#katie does a write

[chenziee]

OPKisstober: Going Merry's Kitchen

Day 8 for OPKisstober: Zoro/Sanji

Zoro was so tired. He had gotten up at one in the morning for watch duty, continuing the night with his morning training once Usopp relieved him. Now, at seven, he wanted nothing more than some food and a good nap.

Lured by the smell of fresh rice cooking, Zoro walked towards the Merry’s kitchen as if in a trance.

“Cook, food,” he yawned.

“Close your fucking mouth, Marimo,” the cook snapped before turning back to his stove. “Five minutes.”

Zoro huffed unhappily before conceding. “Fine.”

“The tea’s ready though, you can have some while you wait,” Twirly muttered with a sigh, gesturing to the teapot and matching cup sitting next to it.

Zoro blinked, before a small grin pulled on his lips. “Oh, nice!”

Walking over quickly, Zoro ignored the grumbling coming from the cook, going straight for the pot. It smelled amazing—high quality sencha, if he were any judge—and as he grabbed the teacup, he realised it was warmed to the perfect temperature. As if Ero-cook knew exactly which second Zoro was coming in for breakfast.

With a smirk, Zoro took his cup, glancing at Prince. The man refused to look at him, but Zoro still leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to Sanji’s lips in thanks before walking away to sit down, another loud yawn escaping him.

It took the cook a good twenty seconds to react after he seemingly froze in place, but then he sputtered, whipping around to point a spatula at Zoro, his face burning red. “Marimo! What are you—why did you—not in front of Robin-chan, you ill-mannered bastard!!”

Raising an eyebrow, Zoro turned his head to glance at their newest, reluctantly-admitted crewmate, who he hadn’t even realised was there. She was quietly reading some giant book at the opposite side of the table with a cup of coffee… and a plate with two sandwiches on it in front of her. Immediately, Zoro frowned.

“Hey, why does she get breakfast?!” he demanded, glaring at the shitty cook who was still going on about stupid shit.

At that, Sanji’s one visible eye narrowed. “Because Robin-chan is a sweet, beautiful lady and you’re an ugly asshole,” he growled.

Before Zoro could shoot an insult back, however, Robin piped up instead.

“You two are so cute. Like little boys not knowing what to do with their little baby-crushes, trying to scalp each other instead of flirting.”

“What the hell is wrong with your head?” Zoro asked, bewildered, while ignoring Sanji’s dramatic flailing and protest.

He only got an unreadable smile in response.

[ Masterpost | Series on AO3 | Ko-Fi ]

[chenziee]

Somebody sava Hakuba, the poor little serial killer is suffering 😔

💙 Fic Sneak Peek 💚

@chenziee has wiped up some good stuff with Cavendish/Bartolomeo from the sfw zine! ✨👏

Thanks @opfandomnews

[heynhay]

you know i got halfway through this before realizing i probably subconsciously ripped the concept from an old tumblr post sorry

[kaylazer]

back on my bullshit (meeting men im in love with). Ben Schwartz is so kind and tall :-) I didn’t totally freeze like when I met the Jonas brothers but the selfies we took are blurry so 😔

(at least I have these bc I told sam to record the whole thing heheheh)

[tundrakatiebean]

Just finished Carrie (book, 1974) after having also watched the movie (1976) and like the bones of this story are good there’s a lot of interesting things you can do with this especially in modern times RE school shooting phenomena vibes and religious fanaticism playing into that but the book has like a weird amount of racism and a lot of “breasted boobily” in it

[chenziee]

🦐🐌☎

🔮 Lawlu/Lulaw Tarot Story Project: Gum Gum no Punch ending 🔮

Have you all found the Silly Neutral Ending written by @chenziee yet? Luffy takes action in typical Luffy fashion! 👊✨

Twitter | AO3

Play the story here!

Follow Luffy as he travels through different tarot cards after meeting a fortune teller to get his Law back! 🤍✨

Guide/Walkthrough: HERE

Contributor Gallery: HERE

All links can be found on our carrd, as well as last year's Twine & Fest!

---

[Reblogs & 💞 greatly appreciated! Please give these lovely creators & our birthday boy some love!]

(@opfandomnews Thank you! 🤍)

[stargazerdaisy]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen

Additional Tags: Post-Episode: s02e11 Day of Death (The Rookie), Healing, Emotionally and physically, tim is emotionally constipated, and lucy is dense at first

Summary:

But now he was faced with the aftermath. The cost of getting her back had been high, for her most of all...It seemed like the worst injury, at least physically, that she was leaving with had happened well after Caleb was dead.

At least three of her ribs had broken or popped out of place when she was given CPR. He broke them when he performed CPR. And now she was wincing and turning away from him in pain.

It was all his fault.

Tim struggles though his guilt at seeing Lucy in pain, after her rescue from Caleb. Bit by bit, day by day, as she heals physically, he heals emotionally.

[merryfortune]

Inspiration Struck on a Serviette 

Written for the Rarest of Rare Pairs Fic-a-Thon

Prompt: Any: Any/Any - Sketching a picture of their lover

Title: Inspiration Struck on a Serviette 

Ship: Brassius/Katy

Fandom: Pokemon Scarlet and Violet

Word Count: 2,002

Rating: G

Warning: None

Tags: Established Relationship, Fluff

   Conventional wisdom would have it that the baking of cakes was a science not an art.

   Every ingredient had to be especially prepared, measured, and mixed or else the results could turn out disastrous. No one liked pancakes which were gluggy or burnt like bricks, no one liked croissants that were soggy or lacked shape, and so on and so forth.

   Brassius would agree but he saw it as more than the interactions of chemicals and heat. He saw it as an artform and one trip to Katy’s bakery and he could not be argued with. Her cake making was absolutely an artform.

   The precision in her hands necessary to craft such intricate fondant or adorable whipped cream displays, Brassius envied her. And the fact that it tasted delicious, too. Well, he might finally put some weight on after a lifetime of being too skinny, quite frankly.

   One trip and that’s all it took. Then he was crawling all over her socials like bugs under a log.

   Though, them both being united by their other profession of Pokemon training, too, helped. It was good to be friends with one another’s colleagues and their hometowns weren’t that far from each other considering that Mesagoza was in the smack bang middle of the distance. 

   Katy, of course, was flattered by the attention. Her humble little patisserie? Getting the tick of approval from a Vitruvian Man like Brassius? Who wouldn’t have their mind at least a little bit blown from hearing nothing but good things come out of his mouth about her and her baking.

   So, Brassius made it a point to make the trip to Cortonda at least once a month, whenever Katy had something new or interesting on the menu. Her good food was dessert for the soul, honestly, and made for excellent inspiration whenever Brassius was in a slump. 

   And in turn to be polite, Katy put in the effort to go to Brassius’s shows and exhibitions. She turned into a vehement supporter of his sculptures and paintings, even when she didn’t really get it. She preferred her portraits to have two eyes, one nose, and one mouth. Brassius disagreed but still, she respected his craft.

   All this banter and catch-ups and other meetings, even outside of League ones, was enough to turn anyone’s eye to wonder because Brassius and Katy just had such an… aura about them. A lovey-dovey one. It was sickeningly saccharine, to the point that Hassel of all people, a diehard romantic, had to tell them to get their act together because he couldn’t take anymore of their schoolkid crushes they clearly had one another.

   An announcement which was completely news to both Brassius and Katy, of course. Sputtering and denial and rambling about how they couldn’t possibly be more than friends. Grass Types were weak to Bug Types and Bug Types were weak to Rock Type moves and one good High Horsepower from Ursaring very well might overcome Suudowoodo’s Sturdy assuming that it's not Terrastralised…

   Yet despite all that bumbling and fumbling, the fluster and the bluster, their fingers interlocked and their faces went red. Their feelings were very much true to one another but to the chagrin of everyone around them, they did not get better. If anything, they got worse now that they were an item off the market.

   All those goo-goo gaga eyes only intensified now that they wore the crown of being each other’s beau. Not even Katy’s customers could escape the way she swooned for her boyfriend and nor could any of Brassius’s artsy-fartsy contemporaries. It was quite shameful but they wouldn’t have it any other way…

  After all, were it not for Katy and the Pokemon League, Brassius would be quite the hermit. Life was quite dull when he didn’t leave the atelier for months of end, either because of his insane work ethic or the dead opposite of depression. Sometimes both. 

   Katy genuinely brought joy to Brassius.

   And for her, Brassius provided perspective.

   Brassius was a very different person to her, after all. From how he carried himself to his thoughts and feelings, and that was part of what made him so attractive to her. He was so full of surprises, the way he saw the world was so different and Katy felt that there was something to learn from that - and much to love about it, too.

   Just as he took inspiration from her and her pastries, Katy aspired to do the same. Though her cake decorating skills were easily top of the class and could put a Gigantamax Alcremie to shame, Katy had much to learn in other artforms. Despite her expertise with a piping bag, a pencil had the capability to prove quite the challenge for her.

   One she was willing to rise to the occasion to like dough. 

   And one she was interested in testing on this visit of Brassius, too.

   Like per usual, for his once a month visit, to have some nice tea and a good treat alongside it, with his sketchbook in tow, Brassius had set up shop in the corner of Soapberry. But this time, Katy would ensure it that he wasn’t the only one who was drawing.

   “At closing,” Katy told him excitedly, holding onto the table and with a big grin, “I’m going to have a surprise for you.”

   “Oh-ho?” Brassius made an interested noise, his eyes keened.

   “Ayup, just you wait and see.” Katy said.

  “Well, I will look forward to it.” Brassius replied.

   Katy let her boyfriend be and he soon had his nose in his sketchbook. Katy, meanwhile, had a skip in her step and her heartbeat, too. She was going to be the very best! Or have a great time trying. Either would work for her.

   So, over the course of the day, when Katy had a spare moment in between monitoring the ovens, serving customers, and other duties that she had as the manager of Soapberry, she was drawing. Just something small, nothing special and it showed in her materials, she was using a pen and some a square of fresh serviette tissue as she thought anything else - like printer paper - might be too big and imposing. She just wanted to make something small and cute. 

   She had the greatest reference and inspiration in store. Just like how Brassius did still life studies of her baked goods or character design based off the customers who came and went, Katy’s eyes were trained in - almost obsessively - with her subject. He, very kindly, gave her a sweet smile whenever their eyes met. 

   The day went by in the blink of an eye. It was as busy as usual - which is to say not too busy since Cortonda was a small town, even with a hustling bustling tourism season - but there had just been so much enjoyment to have had in her little side project. Hence why Katy felt that closing had come far too soon, sooner than she expected but she had much to show for it.

   Empty shelves, a diner which was turned upside down so the cleaners could mop the floors, and of course a completed drawing. It was only the stragglers now - and Brassius too. The shop sign had turned over and the till had been counted. That was that and now, as a result, it was time for the big surprise that Katy had promised Brassius earlier at opening.

   So, Katy came bounding over to Brassius’s bussed table. It was spick and span, tidied up so he could take his leave once Katy had officially locked up, he had his pencil case all zipped up and satchel by his side. He greeted Katy with a demure smile whilst she almost burst with excitement. She was ear to ear with a grin, clutching tightly her very special surprise.

   “Guess what?” Katy said.

   “What?” Brassius echoed, teasing.

   Katy pouted, “You’re meant to guess! No matter, look, look, I drew something and I’m soooooo proud of it.” she said.

   She extended her arms and flipped around her piece of thick serviette paper. She forced it into Brassius’ face, all but an inch from the tip of his nose and he squinted into it. Her arms began to tremble and she squealed, equal parts nervous and ready to be pampered.

   “Well?” Katy asked, bouncing on her heels. “What do you think?” She shimmied and batted her eyes, expectant of praise.

   Brassius lifted his hand and gently took it from Katy’s hands. He positioned it in front of him so he could see all of it and not just some blurry mess of it, either. Katy stepped back, embarrassed that she had been overzealous but Brassius’s quiet, thoughtful expression assured her that he did not mind. If anything, he found it cute.

   Brassius looked over what she had gifted him. He picked up the crinkled, white serviette and admired the penwork now scrawled over it. The big, bubbly shapes with uneven buggy proportions and he slowly put two and two together. It was a person, with eyes and a nose and face, with spiky cactus-like hair and holding what he at first thought was an enormous lollipop then he noticed, it too, was spiked.

   He realised.

   His expression changed and for a moment, Katy held her breath.

   “It’s wonderful.” Brassius praised it adoringly with a sparkle in his eyes. “Truly avant garde, even!”

   Katy giggled, “Ohh, now you're just being nice.” She playfully denied the compliment.

   “No, not at all, I truly mean what I say.” Brassius assured her.

   “Then thank you.” Katy finally accepted the compliment.

   Brassius continued to gaze ever so lovingly at the little serviette doodle. He could imagine Katy all too easily, scrawling it in between serving customers or instructing her workers with the next batch of baking. It was quickly made but not hastily made. Her linework was precise, even if her shape language was still bulbous and amateur. 

   Still, her drawing exuded so much joy and wonder. It was adorable. Her selection of subjects was also impeccable and doubled down on the happy emotions that it embodied. It was, after all, a portrait of him with either cubist or childish proportions depending on which way he squinted. It was a truly solid beginning to a lot of hard work were Katy to continue honing her ability to draw. 

   Brassius utterly marvelled at it and again at Katy. He looked up, eyes soft.

   “Would you like to see mine now?” he asked her.

   “Yes, I would love to.” Katy squealed with a big smile on her face.

   “There you go.” Brassius replied and he turned his clipboard around to face her.

   Katy’s eyes immediately lit up as she blushed ever so faintly. 

   “Is that me?” she asked.

   “Who else would it be?” Brassius teased her.

   He had depicted her as straightforwardly and realistically as he could. He captured all her beauty, all her grace that he saw in her as she worked and he drew in the corner. 

   The linework was delicate. Oftentimes not even there at all to hint to the roundness of her nose or cheek. There was a passionate twinkle in her eyes, the most built-up part of the drawing to best convey the window into her sweet soul.

   “I-It’s gorgeous, Brassius.” Katy exclaimed.

   “It pales in comparison to you.” Brassius assured her.

   “Oh, you!” Katy’s face went redder.

   “I mean it.” Brassius said.

   He put down his drawing onto the table, next to Katy’s serviette. Then, in turn, he took Katy’s hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed over her knuckles, brushing lightly against her hand. Katy swallowed and allowed herself to be ravished by her far too romantic for his own good partner.

   Quite frankly, embarrassing anyone else in the store with this honeymoon routine. They had been together twenty months but they were acting like it had been twenty minutes and ergo giving the impression, they might still be like this in twenty years’ time.

[didsomeonesayventus]

I feel like I may be exaggerating this trait a bit but. I think it is very cute and important that Alear "mirrors" the people he listens to and hangs out with. Changes his response slightly, repeats the words they use. Gets down on their level and tries to convey that he understands them, he's listening. It's like. small. but it means so much to me.

[chenziee]

Look at him! Baby working hard!!

So grateful to be a part of this cute zine, Chopper deserves all the love 🌸 Check the zine out, it's so full of beautiful, adorable words and art ;__;

🌸 Fiction Preview by @chenziee , Spot Illustration by @sweatyhanded 🌸

It's time to recount a moment in time when our fluffy doctor was away from his crew, learning and growing for their sack!

🛍️Shop: https://chopperzine.bigcartel.com/

[youareinlove]

i dont think the bridge in shake it off is that deep but i also don't think harry is the ex man in the song it's probably john m*yer and the new girlfriend is katy since i believe that was one of the reasons why they were beefing (as much as she would like to deny it lol) the fella with the hella good hair is 100% harry 😭 like no one else fits that line.

see i think just about everything on 1989 is that deep because it's such a compact and concise album that says so much at the same time. seemingly simple sentences that actually have a world of meaning behind them is its entire point. also, i think the "hella good hair" line isn't that literal, it's basically a stand-in for "ok i'm gonna hook up with someone else if you are too"

[chenziee]

Shortly after Ace starts dating Marco in a modern AU, Luffy is chatting with Sabo about his latest E.R. trip when when he goes "Actually, Pinapple man was there and--"

Sabo is completely confused for a moment, until Luffy notices and clarifies, "You know that guy. I forget his name. That pinapple guy. Ace brought him to BBQ last week."

It takes Sabo a full minute to process that Luffy just called Ace's boyfriend, the department head of the university hospital, 'that pinapple guy' but when he does... he laughs. He laughs and laughs to the point of tears; he can't remember the last time he laughed quite this much.

He keeps bursting into snickers when he rushes to the store right after.

When Ace gets home that night, there is a pineapple sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, complete with googly eyes and fake glases glued on--as well as having its own plate and cuttlery set out before it, ready to get its own serving of dinner.

Ace doesn't have to look at the name tag that reads "Marco, that pineapple guy" that is hanging on lanyard that's tangled in its leaves before he, too, starts laughing until tears are streaming down his face.

A photo of Marco the Pineapple is set as Marco the Human's contact photo before dinner is even served.

Marco the Pinapple sits at the table for a few days but after a Straw Hats visit, it is deemed that he is taking up too much space and is relocated to the living room, his new home being the top of a cabinet.

By the time Marco the Human visits the ASL household about a month later, Marco the Pineapple is pretty much a family member.

Marco doesn't notice the random pineapple at first--the pineapple that is now wearing a tiny lab coat and a stethoscope--until Ace's cat, Kotatsu, jumps on that particular cabinet.

It's only when Sabo's warning hiss of, "Kotatsu, you know you can't touch Marco, don't you dare" draws his attention that he notices the cat wasn't about to start wrestling with his ankles.

Instead, he was sitting next to the decorated pineapple and staring straight at Sabo as if to tell him to try and stop him.

Marco isn't sure if he's ever been faced with a sight so bizzare... but he would be lying if he said he didn't find it hilarious.

Ace gifts him Marco the Pineapple Jr. to keep on his desk at work.

And Marco loves it.

[jovenshires]

endless au edits: spider-man!spencer au part 3/3

tommy's not a spider-man super fan, okay? it's just his luck. aka 5 times tommy runs into spider-man accidentally + 1 time he doesn't.

[neon-kazoo]

Spontaneous Parenthood

(Prompt by @autocrats-in-love : “Are you my new daddy?” The hero’s child asked, blinking up with wide eyes. The villain sighed. “For the last time, I’m trying to kidnap you! Get in the car!”)

The villain was overjoyed when he learned the address of the hero’s real home and was practically vibrating with excitement as he followed the GPS to the location.

“You have arrived at your destination,” a monotone feminine voice announced.

“Yeah yeah, I see it.”

Villain slowed to a stop just in front of a classic suburban home, complete with grass that almost needed to be cut—such was the life of a hero, Villain presumed; too busy to pull out the lawnmower every weekend. He took in the off-white paint and the layered grey shingles on the roof. Two deck chairs sat adjacent to the front door, and a hydrangea bush in full bloom next to the mailbox. There were no cars in the driveway, and the garage was open and empty, beckoning Villain out of his SUV and into the home.

Once inside, he took in the large kitchen, with shiny countertops and a giant island. The living room was just as overwhelming, plush carpet and huge couch not quite properly filling the huge space. There were more doors on the far wall, but Villain found his gaze drawn to the grand staircase settled to his right.

Start upstairs, then work his way down.

Villain ran his hand along the carved wooden banister until he reached the top, then he headed for the farthest door on the hall.

Surely he could find something to use against Hero in this practical mansion.

The sound of footsteps ascending the stairs behind him sent Villain spinning into the nearest room, shutting the door swiftly but silently.

When he turned around, he saw something completely unexpected.

A child, sleeping in a small bed, tucked beneath a Tinker Bell comforter.

There was no time to process the discovery because outside the door, a woman’s voice sounded, “Yeah, it’s still in the shop. Katie’s taking a nap though, so I think I’m gonna let you go. Yeah, finally some Mommy-time. I can’t wait to actually finish this book.”

The voice faded, and Villain breathed a sigh of relief. This, however, was premature.

A new voice, this one tiny and young, caused Villain to jump two feet in the air.

“Who are you?” It asked, and the villain froze.

“Um…” he searched his surroundings for any plausible cover and found nothing but butterfly lamps and Disney Princess dolls.

“I’m a friend of your Dad’s?” He finally tried, uncertainty lacing his tone. He had no idea what kind of acting it took to convince a child, but he figured that probably wasn’t good enough.

His plan was in ruins, house now unsearchable with two occupants. He couldn’t just leave either, the kid would rat him out immediately.

That left only one option.

“I’m taking you somewhere else,” Villain spoke quickly, poking his head out the door to ensure the woman—presumably this girl’s mother—was gone.

“Where?”

“It’s a surprise,” he replied as he took hold of a tiny hand and pulled the girl towards the door.

Kids like surprises, right?

“Uh uh,” she shook her head. “How do I know you’re not a bad man?”

“I am a bad man,” Villain responded automatically. When she tried to pull away from his hand, he scooped her up and started down the stairs quickly.

Distraction. He needed a distraction.

“What’s with the tutu?”

The girl looked down at her outfit: a pink tutu overlaying a pair of Mickey Mouse themed footy-pajamas, complete with an eye patch flipped up over her forehead.

“I’m a fairy Princess pirate!”

She appeared utterly displeased with Villain’s ineptitude at recognizing her incredibly well-established costume.

“Shouldn’t you have a tiara or something?”

Wrong question.

He watched as she took a big breath and opened her mouth and realized he had to act fast.

He said the first thing that popped into his head.

“We can get ice cream!”

Villain grimaced. His current plan was contingent on a child staying quiet for frozen treats. Not his best work.

Luckily, the promise of ice cream seemed to easily override the kid’s survival instincts. Villain would be sure to mention that to Hero when she gets returned.

Speaking of Hero.

“Where’s my Dad?” The little girl asked as they reached the driveway.

“He’s not here right now, but if you come with me you’ll see him soon.”

He unlocked the car, but Hero’s daughter refused to get in.

“I don’t want to go. Why are you here and Dad isn’t?”

Villain opened his mouth to reply before realizing he had no idea how to comfort a confused child, much less one he was kidnapping.

“Let’s just get in the car.”

The girl seemed to think for a moment before she spoke again. Her face shifted from upset to…curious?

“Are you my new daddy?” She asked, blinking up at him with wide eyes.

The villain sighed, exasperated. “For the last time, I’m trying to kidnap you! Get in the car!”

“Daddy told me I shouldn’t get in the car with strangers,” she said sternly, pouting her lip slightly and planting her feet.

“I- okay, you know what, fine. I will be temporarily filling in the role of father in your Dad’s absence. Is that good enough? Can we get in the car now?”

“Sure!” Her face returned to its usual brightness, and she lifted up her arms and made grabby-hands at the villain. Villain loosed a sigh of relief and bent down to lift the child into the car.

“I can’t ride in the front,” she protested, and Villain froze holding her hovering in front of the open passenger side door.

“…right,” Villain hesitated, looking around for anyone to come catch him in the act and solve this problem easily. If the police were called, he could just drop the child and run.

Unfortunately, the street was quiet, and Villain had no legitimate reason to halt this abduction.

Setting the girl back down, Villain closed the door and opened the backseat.

Taking a second attempt at lifting her into the car, this time, she almost reached the leather seat before stopping him again.

“I need my car seat! It’s in case I get in a axe-see-dent,” she sounded, kicking her feet in displeasure.

Villain groaned.

“I don’t have a car seat.”

“That’s not very safe,” Katie—if Villain remembered correctly—crossed her arms and huffed exaggeratedly.

“Okay…I’ll just go…find one,” Villain murmured, mostly to himself.

Villain wandered absently into the garage in search of a car seat. He saw several things he had missed the first time in his excitement. For example, three bikes mounted to the wall, one suspiciously small and pink and sparkly. If the training wheels weren’t a big enough red flag, everything else should have been: a pink life vest, chalk, sidewalk paint, bubble solution. Villain certainly didn’t take Hero for one to occupied by a giant bubble wand in his free time.

By a stroke of luck, he recognized the seat sitting in a corner.

A few minutes later, after studying confusing safety instruction stickers and teaching Katie a few new words in the process, Villain successfully buckled Hero’s child into the seat.

Villain finally settled into the front, driving away after buckling himself—at Katie’s insistence.

“Play Lil Jon!”

“I told you, this is a kidnapping, I’m not going to play you music.”

Katie went silent, and Villain prayed she wasn’t about to burst into tears.

“When are we getting ice cream?”

Villain adjusted his rear view mirror to be able to keep an eye on the kid. Her eyes were locked out the heavily tinted window and her lip was trembling.

He cursed, internally this time.

Villain blamed innate parental instincts as he pulled into the Dairy Queen, ‘Turn Down For What’ blasting through the speakers.

He could feel the beginning of a headache pressing behind his eyes.

It was going to be a long ride.

[firstdegreefangirl]

Can't Live With Him, Must Live Without Him

“That’s just like you, isn’t it?” She knows the words will cut deep, wants them to hurt, wants Ian to feel even an ounce of the pain he’s put her through. “Overpromise, underdeliver.”

Ian’s face falls.

Good.

“Come on, Po – come on.” She cuts him off before he can win her pity.

“No.” Poppy turns sharply, trying to hide the way she can feel her bottom lip trembling. She blinks away hot tears as she steps into the stairwell. Her legs carry her just a few steps further, barely out of sight, before she slumps against the wall. With the cuff of one hoodie sleeve, she wipes furiously at her eyes.

She won’t give him the satisfaction of making her cry.

Outside, she hears Ian swear loudly, on the heels of a loud clatter. It spurs her on; she doesn’t want to be standing here if he comes back inside.

This time, she makes it all the way to the Grimmpop offices before she stops, dropping into her chair. She folds over, head thumping against her keyboard until she reaches up and shoves it away. It falls off the desk, but she doesn’t care. If she could muster the focus, she’d push everything off the desk. The mouse, the computer, her drink in its gas station cup, all of it.

Instead, she screams into the crook of her elbow, and pretends not to notice when it turns into a sob.

For years, she and Ian have worked together. It hasn’t been seamless, by any stretch of the word, but they’ve worked. Through the arguments and the creative differences and the bickering, they’ve always been able to come out the other side.

This time? She doesn’t know if they will.

Read the rest on ao3 here!

[ontoheartache]

tearing down the walls in my head (this might be done, might not be, but for now it is)

Eddie is going to tell him. 

He often finds himself here, and most of the time he manages to get as far as picking up his phone. A month ago, he even managed to open his text messages and click on Buck's name. It had only taken a glance at the last message Buck had sent him to make Eddie's confidence crumble. A simple chris asked me to pick up dinner. see you at 8 with pizza had managed to remind him of all that he stood to lose. It's a common pattern. 

But Eddie is going to tell him this time. He's made it as far as the firehouse, and Buck is right in front of him, and he's going to tell him. 

He just has to figure out what he's going to say, is all. He's never made it this far before. 

"Gonna stand there all day looking pretty?" Hen asks him, looking over at him from her seat at the table. There's a book open in front of her and a notebook off to the side. She tilts her pencil so that it's pointing at him, then draws a circle in the air in his direction. "You look like a statue, Eddie. Breathe a little." 

He hadn't noticed he was frozen in place, but now that she's pointed it out he notices that his shoulders are painfully stiff. He forces himself to relax, rolls his shoulders to release the tension, and then paints a smile on his face. 

"Just thinking," he says. He avoids her eyes as he sits across from her, instead opting to glance over at Buck, who is currently attempting to shove Chimney off the couch and keep his lead in MarioKart at the same time. By the looks of things, he's mostly successful. 

When he looks away and chances meeting Hen's gaze, she seems almost sad. Her expression is a little too knowing for his comfort level. Eddie doesn't like the way she looks at him as if she's heard all the things he's never managed to say out loud. He's grateful when she simply shakes her head and goes back to reading the book on the table. 

He blames what he says next on the fact that she didn't push him. 

"I'm going to tell him," Eddie says. He keeps his voice low, but her head snaps up like he had shouted the words. "Today." 

She stares at him for a moment, her face falling until she seems to catch herself. Her expression melts into a forced neutrality, but her eyes are still so unbearably sad. "Oh, honey," falls from her lips in a hushed whisper, and Eddie's heart drops. 

She knows something that he doesn't. 

Before he can open his mouth to ask, Buck is suddenly sliding into the chair beside him. He slings his arm over Eddie's shoulder, and smiles brighter than the sunshine when he announces, "I beat Chim on Rainbow Road! First place, baby!" 

Chimney drops into the seat beside Hen and flails his hand in Buck's direction as he says, "He's a dirty cheater. A liar. Don't listen to a word he says." 

"No, no!" Buck laughs, jostling Eddie as he does. "I beat you! Which means I get Maddie all to myself tonight and you have to go somewhere else. You agreed to the terms, Han." 

Hen's eyes widen just enough to catch Eddie's attention. He still doesn't manage to be ready for what comes next. 

"Yeah, yeah. You're suddenly too good for my dating advice now that you've got yourself a girlfriend. I see how it is, Buck." Chimney rests his chin on his hand as he leans forward, grinning maniacally. "Remember this when your sister picks your date outfit tonight." 

Eddie feels like he's missed a step on the stairs. Or several steps. Maybe he's fallen over the railing instead and is rapidly plummeting to his painful demise. It could be any of those things. All of it would explain the way his heart has taken residence in his throat. All of it would explain why he suddenly can't breathe. 

He was going to tell him. 

He really was going to tell him this time. 

Of all the things that have stopped him before, none of them have ever been something that couldn't be summed up as Eddie just standing in his own way. It's always been him. His denial, his fears, his own selfish desire to keep Buck close in whatever way he could. It's always been Eddie stepping in front of himself, building his walls back stronger with every attempt he's made to knock them down, to give in and just say it. 

He was really going to do it this time. He's often found himself here as well, thinking that this time was going to be the day, this attempt was going to be the one. But every time he faltered, every time he stopped himself from knocking on Buck's door or switched off his phone, there was relief. There was a feeling in his gut that told him he never actually believed he would be successful. 

This time feels like a kick to the chest, or like his foot has slipped while rappelling down a cliffside. The world is a little tilted, the sound in his ears a little garbled. His mouth tastes like ash. 

He had truly believed he was going to do it this time. That he was finally going to look Buck in the eyes and say i love you, i'm in love with you, i've been making my way to you since before i ever knew your name, you left my house just over a month ago and i never meant to let you, come back, stay. 

All the words he couldn't find ring in his ears like a siren. Buck's arm around his shoulders feels like the weight of the world. 

Eddie always finds himself here. Always finds himself being just a second too late.