#like if you asked me that this is where we would end up two years ago I wouldn't have believed you

[sa1ntd1or]

omgomgomg can we please do the batboys with the “current boyfriend” prank 😭😭 like plssss they would crash the fuck outtt

˖ ֹ੭୧ CURRENT BOYFRIEND TREND ⊹ ࣪ ⑅

ˋ°•*⁀➷ batboys react to influencer!reader doing the "current boyfriend" trend !

ˋ°•*⁀➷CHARACTERS: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Aged up!Damian Wayne

NOTES: lowkey feel like i mightve made tim a bit OCC but at the same time hes a very analytical person and he doesn’t do well with sudden, uncalculated emotional curveballs... ENJOY LOL

BRUCE WAYNE:

TikTok Upload: @/yourusername Caption: doing the “current bf” trend on my boyfriend 

[VIDEO STARTS]

Your phone is balanced on a crystal decanter across the room. Bruce sits beside you on the velvet couch, looking like someone who was dragged into this against his will. But he’s here; suit jacket off, sleeves rolled, jaw sharp enough to cut diamonds.

You tap record, smiling as you nudge him slightly with your elbow.

“Okay,” you say to the camera, voice light and warm. “So my current boyfriend and I are finally filming the storytime of how we met.”

Bruce turns to you slowly, like you’ve just announced an alien invasion.

“…Current?” he repeats.

You smile innocently, giving a small nod. “Mhm!”

He blinks once. Then again.

There’s a pause. “Is there… something I should be aware of?”

You turn to the camera. “This man is so dramatic. We’re starting from the charity gala two years ago. Remember that?”

“I do,” he says carefully. “I also remember introducing you as my partner. Not my… temporary associate.”

You laugh. “You’re overthinking.”

“I’m a billionaire. I have to overthink,” he replies dryly, though his eyes haven’t left yours.

You reach over, patting his thigh affectionately. “Okay, so anyway—he spilled champagne on me and tried to offer me a check for dry cleaning. That was our meet-cute.”

Bruce clears his throat. “In my defense, I didn’t realize it was a one-of-a-kind custom gown. But I did replace it.”

“With a car,” you say to the camera.

Bruce adjusts his cuff. “It was a reasonable apology.”

You grin. “And then he asked me out by scheduling a business dinner and calling it a ‘strategic partnership.’ Romantic, right?”

Bruce shifts slightly, visibly trying not to look at the phone.

“…Can we go back to the part where you said current?”

To anyone else, Bruce looks blank-faced and unbothered, just mildly curious. But you—you know this man like the back of your hand.

The soft frown lines on his forehead begin to deepen, his knuckles slowly turning white. His brows furrow tighter.

But his eyes… his eyes hold concern. A mix of confusion and restrained frustration.

You can’t hold it in any longer, doubling over with laughter as you grab Bruce’s hand, muttering apologies between giggles.

“It’s a prank,” you say breathlessly. “I swear it’s a trend. I love you.”

Bruce sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Don’t do that to me.”

“Sorry, babe. I love you, promise.”

[VIDEO ENDS]

[TOP COMMENTS]

@/urmamalong: he’s not current he’s forever and he knows it @/user10293: she had my man stressing LMAOO @/cocunutstree: is no one gonna talk about how their first date was called a ‘strategic partnership.’ 😭😭

DICK GRAYSON:

TikTok Upload: @/yourusername Caption: “current boyfriend” trend on my bf… gone almost sideways LMAOO

[VIDEO STARTS]

The camera bounces slightly with each step as you walk down the bustling Blüdhaven street, hand-in-hand with the man beside you. Dick’s in a black tee and fitted jeans, hair pushed back by the breeze, sunglasses sitting atop his head. The sky’s golden, the light catching in his eyes just right.

You flip the camera to selfie mode, smiling wide.

“Hey guys,” you chirp. “My current boyfriend and I are on our way to grab dinner before hitting the show at the—”

Dick stops mid-step.

You blink when you realize he’s no longer moving with you, your arm tugged slightly backward. You turn to see him staring at you, one brow raised and mouth slightly parted in disbelief.

“…Current?” he echoes, tone flat. “Did you just call me your current boyfriend?”

You try to keep walking, brushing it off with a casual grin. “Yeah, babe. Lock in cmon—”

“No, no, no,” Dick interrupts, coming to stand directly in front of you now. “Rewind. Run that back. Did I hallucinate or did you say current boyfriend?”

You laugh, turning the camera slightly to catch both your faces. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic,” he replies, eyes narrowing slightly. “You know I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but current boyfriend? Really? Like I’m on a limited-time lease?”

You bite back a grin. “You’re making a scene.”

He scoffs, a hand on his hip. “You made the scene. I was just trying to go get some overpriced sushi with my lifelong girlfriend.”

You burst into giggles.

“And now I’m wondering if I forgot an anniversary or something,” he adds, voice dropping low. “Are you mad at me? Did I miss something? Who even says that?”

You’re fully wheezing now, shaking your head and turning the phone off selfie mode to hide your face.

“It’s a trend, babe. I’m messing with you.”

Dick exhales through his nose, not mad—but definitely offended. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

You nudge him, still laughing. “You’ll live.”

“I better,” he mutters, taking your hand again. “But we’re gonna talk about that wording later.”

[VIDEO ENDS]

[TOP COMMENTS]

@/user1209381: i just know he replayed “current?” in his head for the next 6 hours @/jessicacookies: the way he STOPPED WALKING LMAOOO @/morningcrips: “I was just trying to go get some overpriced sushi” HELP 😭

JASON TODD:

TikTok Upload: @/yourusername Caption: current bf trend except he almost killed me😋

[VIDEO STARTS] 

You're walking through your apartment with your phone in selfie mode, the camera catching Jason on the couch behind you—black tank top, grey sweatpants, arm thrown across the backrest like he owns the place (because he does).

You flip the camera toward him as you walk over, smiling.

“Hey guys,” you begin sweetly. “So my current boyfriend and I are about to—”

Jason looks up. Blinks once.

There’s a two-second delay. His brows twitch.

“…What did you just call me?” he says, voice calm in the same way thunderstorms are calm before they hit.

You give him an innocent look. “My current boyfriend.”

Jason squints. “As in…?”

You hold back a grin. “My boyfriend… right now?”

He stares. Laughs once—just once—and without breaking eye contact, reaches forward and taps the camera off.

The camera is then turned back on again, except the vibe is completely different now.

The two fo you are curled up. in bed, the lighting low and golden. Jason’s beside you, arm slung around your waist.

He’s looking into the camera, dead serious.

“Just so we’re clear,” he says, “I’m not current anything.”

You try to hide your smile.

“I’m not a phase. I’m not a chapter. I’m the whole damn book.” he says, tightening his arm around you. “This isn’t a trial run. I signed a lifetime contract.”

You laugh. “Babe—”

“No,” he cuts in. “Because now everyone thinks I’m on borrowed time. Like you’re gonna trade me in for a newer model.”

You’re wheezing now. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m being accurate.” He looks back at the camera. “Current. She called me current. Like a seasonal boyfriend. Like I’m fuckin’ Pumpkin Spice in October.”

You throw a pillow at him, giggling as he blocks it and grins.

“I’m forever,” he says smugly.

[VIDEO ENDS]

[TOP COMMENT] 

@/poopybanana: not him ending the video HIMSELF LOOL 😭😭 @/bookboyfriendreal: “I’m not a chapter, I’m the whole damn book” he was written by a woman. @/user3022: “she called me CURRENT. like I’m Pumpkin Spice.” okay okay i see @/chaosblossom: he’s gonna propose next week I can FEEL it

TIM DRAKE:

TikTok Upload: @/yourusername Caption: doing the trend EXCEPT I ACC ALMOST CRIED WTF

[VIDEO STARTS]

The camera opens with you walking through the city, phone held out selfie-style. The wind gently tousles your hair, and Tim’s walking beside you; hood up, hands in his pockets, slightly hunched like he’s trying not to draw attention.

You turn the camera toward him and smile. “Hey guys! My current boyfriend and I are on the way to the bookstore—”

Tim glances at the camera, gives a soft smile… and then blinks.

Pause.

You keep walking like nothing happened, but his steps slow slightly.

“…Sorry,” Tim says after a second, trying to keep his voice light. “Did you say current?”

You glance over, feigning confusion. “Yeah. My current boyfriend.”

He laughs, kind of. A single awkward breath of a chuckle. “Oh. Okay.”

The camera catches him looking off to the side.

He doesn’t say anything else, but you know him.

You know that face.

You know that he’s just gone full internal monologue mode. He's analyzing the exact tone you said it in, reviewing the past month of conversations, subtly scanning for signs of detachment that aren’t there. But he’s already halfway to a mental spiral.

You keep walking, just yapping at the camera. He’s still quiet.

“…You okay?” you murmur.

He nods too quickly. “Yeah, no, I just. I wasn’t sure if that was, like… a joke. Or if it was your way of easing into something else. Because, if so, that’s totally fine, I just—” He cuts himself off. “Never mind.”

You stop walking. “Tim.”

He finally looks at you. His expression is so soft it hurts. “It’s okay if you meant it. I just need to know how temporary I am.”

The TikTok absolutely catches the look on your face dropping in real-time.

You throw your arms around him without even stopping the video. “Baby. It’s a prank. It’s a trend.”

Tim blinks. “Wait—seriously?”

You nod, nose pressed against his hoodie. “You’re forever. My ride-or-die. My endgame. My everything. Come on, please know that I would never do that to you.”

There’s a quiet laugh, this time genuine. You pull back enough to see his little smile.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Good. Because I’ve already pre-ordered matching headstones.”

“Wait—why are you crying?!”

“Because I made you upset! And I made you rethink our whole relationship!”

He softly laughs at you, wiping a stray tear. “I should be the one crying, not you.”

“Shut up, Tim.”

[VIDEO ENDS]

[TOP COMMENTS]

@/emodetective: this man was one second away from dissociating 😭@/notahaterjustconfused: YOU COULD SEE HIM THINKING IN PARAGRAPHS @/traumaandbagels: she almost made him cry and then she started crying herself 💀 @/bookishnerd12: matching headstones?? no bc he’s already writing their vows…

AGED UP!DAMIAN WAYNE:

TikTok Upload: @/yourusername Caption: current bf check 😍 (he’s so serious for no reason omg)

[VIDEO STARTS]

The two of you are at a quiet rooftop restaurant: soft lighting, a skyline view, a candle flickering between you. Damian’s in a black button-down, sleeves rolled, silver rings catching the light. He’s sipping from a wine glass, eyes lazily scanning the menu.

You adjust your phone and hit record, speaking in a relaxed tone.

“Hey guys, just out with my current boyfriend tonight,” you say, panning the camera over to Damian.

He doesn’t react right away.

He lowers his menu slowly.

Then he turns to you, calmly.

“…Current?”

You offer a small smile. “Yup.”

He blinks once. Then again. Then sets the menu down.

“Forgive me—are we... breaking up over lobster risotto?”

You almost snort your drink.

He leans closer. “Should I order extra wine.”

You start giggling. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No, you are being dishonest,” he replies, placing a hand over his heart. “I am not ‘current.’ I am forever, irrevocable, contractual—”

You laugh harder. “Damian—”

“I have memorized your Starbucks order, created a shared playlist, and added you to my emergency contact list,” he says, like he’s building a legal case. “I let you put glitter on my face last weekend. You think that’s temporary behavior?”

You cover your face with one hand, still laughing. “I love you, you dramatic baby.”

He leans back smugly. “Good. Then say boyfriend of three years, future husband, and sole heir to your affection like a civilized person.”

You reach over and boop his nose. “Whatever you say, Dami.”

[VIDEO ENDS]

[TOP COMMMENTS]

@/headbuttking: damian said ✨legally binding romance✨ @/user109312: him listing off relationship credentials like it’s a résumé 😭@/putaringonit: future husband? HE SAID WHAT HE SAID

[daeniradraconis]

Right Where You Left Me

So, hello lovelies ✨ I’m currently in Germany watching the Leafs melt down in Game 7, and there is never a better time to post this than during the game. Well, there’s not much to say — hope you enjoy this! I wrote this from an outsider’s perspective, and it’s a little bit of a filler chapter, but we need this to connect a few things for the future.

Themes/Warnings: Hannah Elise Hughes x William Nylander, grief and loss, coma, emotional distress, complicated grief, hospital setting, family tension, fragile health

Chapters: 01, 02, 03

Chapter 3: The Quiet Between

The snow hadn’t stopped all day.

Toronto in late December was always a strange mix of silence and noise. Too many cars, too many people—but somehow, days like this felt still. The kind of cold that bit your skin, but numbed your thoughts just enough to be welcome.

Luke Hughes stood in front of William’s condo building, staring up at it like he needed permission to go in. The small velvet box in his pocket felt heavier than it should. Not that it was much more than metal and memory, but that was the problem—memories carried weight no one could see.

He’d debated even coming. He’d told himself it was stupid. That William didn’t need this. But still Luke had ended up here.

He pressed the buzzer. William answered, his voice slightly muffled. “Hey?”

“It’s me.”

A beat.

Then, “Come up.”

William answered the door in a hoodie and joggers, hair longer than Luke remembered and slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times today. He looked... better. Still tired around the eyes, still a kind of shadow beneath his skin, but lighter somehow. 

Luke stepped inside, shaking off the cold. “Sorry for just dropping by. I should’ve texted.”

“You’re good.” William shut the door behind him. “I’m not doing anything important. Just watching bad TV and pretending I know how to cook.”

Luke smiled, stepping into the warm space. “Still burning pasta?”

“Only on Tuesdays.”

They sat on the couch, easy and quiet. It wasn’t awkward. Not really. It had never been awkward between them, just heavy. Grief made everything quieter, more careful. Like walking through a room filled with glass, afraid to knock anything over.

William grabbed two beers from the fridge, tossed one gently to Luke. “You still not twenty-one?”

“Almost.”

William raised an eyebrow. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

They talked for a while—about hockey, about Jack, about how surreal it still felt to see Luke in a Devils jersey, skating on real NHL ice. William smiled when Luke told him about his first goal, even asked if he’d kept the puck. It made Luke feel good. He’d known William since he was just a kid. Over the years, William had always felt like an older brother to him. And somehow, even now, that hasn't changed.

Then the silence came. The one Luke had known was coming.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the box.

“I found this the other day,” he said, setting it gently on the coffee table. “I forgot I even had it.”

William stared at it, unmoving.

“They gave it to us after... everything,” Luke continued. “Doctors said they had to take it off her for the scans. So I took it. I don’t know why. I think I just... wanted to hold onto something.”

William didn’t respond right away. His eyes stayed on the box, like opening it might detonate something inside him.

Luke took a slow sip of his beer before setting it down, his fingers brushing along the rim.

“I don’t know why I took it,” Luke said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. “I think... back then, I just needed something. You had everything, you know? The house. The dogs. Her clothes still hanging in the closet. Her perfume on the pillows. You were surrounded by pieces of her life.”

He paused, eyes fixed on some far-off point on the coffee table.

“I didn’t have any of that. She was gone, and I didn’t have anything that felt like her. I guess I thought... maybe the ring would help me stay close. Like I could hold onto something real. Sorry…I…I know it wasn’t mine to keep.”

William didn’t speak right away. His fingers rubbed against his jeans, slow, thoughtful.

“Did it help?” he finally asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Having the ring?”

Luke nodded. “Yeah. It did.”

William gave a small smile, almost more breath than expression. “Then I’m glad you had it. You’re right. I had everything else…a little too much, sometimes. It made it harder to let go. But if the ring helped you feel close to her, I think that’s exactly where it belonged.”

Luke swallowed. “Well... it’s yours now. I don’t feel the need to hold onto it anymore. And you signed the papers. I think maybe you need it more now than I do.”

William shook his head gently. “You can keep it, if you want. I’m not sure I can even look at it right now. I’ve had enough of staring at things I can’t change for four years.”

Luke’s voice softened. “Still. Even if you don’t want to look at it right now... it’s yours, Will. You picked it. For her. Maybe one day you’ll want it near. So take it.”

William nodded once. He didn’t reach for the box. Not yet. But he didn’t push it away either.

After a moment, Luke spoke again, his voice more hesitant this time. “I also wanted to say... thank you. For staying. For hoping.”

William exhaled, a soft laugh escaping like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Luke.”

“I do.”

“No.” William turned to him fully now. “Even if I was only her husband for six hours... I was the happiest man alive. And we were together since 2014, Luke. That’s my whole adult life. She was my life. I would’ve stayed longer if I could. God, I wanted to.”

He glanced down at his hands, voice softening. “But yeah, I still feel guilty sometimes. Like… every time I start feeling okay, it’s like I’m doing something wrong—like I’m betraying her just by trying to be happy again. And when I signed the divorce papers last week… Luke, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. In that moment, I felt lower than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Luke’s eyes were heavy with something that looked like grief and compassion at once. “Don’t think of it like that. Please. She would want you to be happy. You held onto her with everything you had—but you can’t freeze your life forever, not for a chance that may never come.”

William looked up.

“We both know what the doctors said,” Luke said quietly. “There’s a point zero two percent chance. That’s not hope anymore, Will. That’s... punishment. And it’s not fair to you.”

William didn’t reply right away. Just stared at his hands again. Finally, he whispered, “It feels like giving up.”

“It’s not,” Luke said. “It’s choosing to live. And I know that’s what she would’ve wanted for you. To keep living. To maybe even—” he hesitated, “—have kids someday. If you want. To love someone again. That’s not betrayal. That’s surviving man.”

William blinked hard. He nodded once, slowly.

“Thanks, kid.”

Luke gave a crooked smile. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

William laughed—tired but real. “You’ll always be her baby brother. Doesn’t matter how tall you get.”

Luke’s smile softened, shifting into something gentler. “Every time I wondered how the hell you were getting through this... I’d see you still showing up. Still breathing. Still walking the dogs. Still being you. You never shut us out. I’m grateful for that, Will. For you. For how you stayed in our lives.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that either.”

“I do,” Luke repeated. “I just wish we had more time as a family. All of us. But no matter what happens—whether you get remarried or move away or anything else—I want you to know, you’re always going to be part of this family. Once you’re a Hughes, there’s no way out.”

William smiled, but it faltered with emotion. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, trying to stay composed.

“That means a lot,” he said quietly.

They sat in silence again, but this time it felt full, not empty.

Luke stood up first. “I should get going. Need to catch my flight early in the morning.”

William followed him to the door. As Luke opened it, the cold air rushed in, sharp and clean.

Luke paused at the threshold. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

William smiled. Luke looked and sounded like a man—it still felt surreal.

“Same goes for you, Luke.”

And when the door closed behind Luke, and the apartment fell quiet again, William turned toward the table.

The box sat there, still closed. Small. Simple. Heavy with meaning.

He walked toward it, stood for a moment, and gently reached out.

He didn’t open it. Not yet.

But he took it back.

And for tonight, that was enough.

—

The Michigan house was quiet except for the occasional sizzle from the kitchen, where Jim moved around with ease. The scent of onions softening in a pan wafted through the halls—something simple for dinner, maybe stew or pasta, but warm enough to fill the house with comfort.

Ellen poured herself a glass of wine. She brought it into the living room and set it on the table beside the couch, sighing as she lowered herself into the cushions. Her knees weren’t what they used to be.

She reached for the box that had been sitting on the bookshelf for years. Inside, a small chaos of memories: photos, drawings, crayon-smudged cards with crooked handwriting, and the kind of things you don’t mean to keep but never find the heart to throw away.

She flipped through them slowly, one by one.

There was a photo of Quinn, barely two days old, tucked into the arms of a toddler with wispy curls and a too-serious expression. Eli. Her daughter. Her first. Her light. The little girl who had looked up at her baby brother and kissed his forehead like she already knew she was responsible for something sacred.

“I’m gonna protect him,” Eli had whispered that day, proud, sleepy and sure.

Ellen’s throat tightened. She traced the edge of the photo with her finger.

Behind her, Jim began humming softly under his breath. She heard the gentle clink of the wooden spoon against the side of the pan—the comforting sounds of ordinary life.

She took another sip of wine and picked up a photo of their first Christmas with all four kids. Jack had just turned four and was wearing a Santa hat two sizes too big. Luke was a baby, mostly interested in trying to eat the garland. And Eli—Eli had flour on her cheeks, a candy cane apron, and the brightest smile on her face as she stood on a stool in the kitchen next to Ellen, holding a misshapen gingerbread man in one hand.

“This is my favorite holiday, Mommy,” she had said, looking up at Ellen with sparkles in her eyes. “I love it so much, every year.”

And she had. Every year, Eli had taken charge of decorations, baking, gift-wrapping, even organizing the family movie nights. She made Christmas feel like something out of a storybook.

Now, the holidays felt dimmer. Quieter. Like the lights were still strung up, but the glow didn’t reach as far.

Ellen’s hand paused on a photo that made her laugh under her breath. It was one of the few she’d saved from the skating rink.

Eli, bundled up in a pink jacket, scowling in the center of the ice, her arms pinwheeling as Jim tried to keep her upright. Her expression was unmistakable: betrayal and horror in equal parts.

“She hated it,” Ellen said aloud, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She turned around on the couch in the direction of the open kitchen and showed the picture to her husband. “Our daughter. The only Hughes who hated skating.”

“I remember,” Jim said with a nostalgic smile. “She said her feet weren’t meant for frozen water. And if we ever forced her to do this again, she’d move to her grandparents’ in Florida so she’d never have to experience that cold rink again.”

“She was five and already dramatic.”

“Well, she totally got that from you.”

Ellen shook her head, but her smile lingered. “And she’s still married to a hockey player, Jim. I would never have guessed that.”

Jim’s stirring slowed, and the silence that followed stretched between them, gentle but weighted.

Ellen’s hand found Elis’s wedding photo.

The sun poured through the trees that day—golden, gentle, and somehow full of kindness. William stood at the altar, barely holding himself together. Eli looked radiant, like she always did when she was near William—their love seemed to glow through her.

Quinn had wiped his face three times before the ceremony even started. Jack had given Will a playful shove and whispered something threatening into his ear, trying to cover up his own tears. And Luke—sweet Luke—had held Eli so tightly after the vows that Ellen had worried for a moment he might actually break her ribs.

Ellen pressed the photo to her chest for a moment.

The wedding had been a dream. A soft, perfect blur. And then just a few hours later, it became something else entirely.

She didn’t cry now. She rarely did anymore. The tears had dried up in the second year, and what remained was something quieter. A hollow ache. An ever-present weight.

Ellen turned toward the kitchen again, watching her husband move slowly around the stove. He’d always wanted a daughter. She remembered the day Eli was born—how he had cried when the doctor said, “It’s a girl.” He had kissed Ellen’s forehead and whispered, “I’m gonna be a good dad. I swear I will. She’s gonna be my little princess.”

And she had been.

The accident had taken something from Jim—something she knew she could never give back. He never said it aloud, but she saw it in how he spoke about her less these days, and in the way he’d sometimes sit alone in the garage, staring into nothing for long stretches. Grief had silenced a man who once filled the room.

Ellen looked back down at the photo in her hand.

Her baby. Her daughter.

Not gone. But not here.

Alive in the most technical way, and yet unreachable. For four years, they had visited the hospital, touched her hand, whispered to her like she might hear it. And every time, they left a little more broken.

Near the bottom of the box, Ellen’s fingers paused on another photo — one that made her chest tighten with a fresh, bittersweet ache.

It was a photo Jim had taken nearly fifteen years ago, on a late summer afternoon. The four kids sat at the edge of the old wooden dock behind their Michigan house, their legs swinging just above the shimmering lake. The sun bathed their skin in a honeyed glow, while the water whispered softly beneath them.

Eli was there — so alive, so bright — curled up with a worn copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone resting in her lap. Her braid was loose, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks, and she was reading aloud with that gentle intensity Ellen had always loved.

Quinn sat close, arms crossed, pretending to scold Jack — wild as ever — who was half-standing, half-jumping off the dock, his shirt twisted around his neck, wearing that wide grin full of mischief.

Luke, the littlest one with soft golden curls and chubby cheeks, sat right next to Eli, kicking his legs and babbling in that sweet toddler way only he could.

Then, in that photo—forever frozen in time—Luke’s face turned toward Eli. With a bright, clear voice that still made Ellen’s heart tighten, he spoke the word Eli had been waiting to hear for so long:

“HanHan.”

The very first time Luke said her name.

Everyone else called her Eli, short and simple — but Luke’s word was different. Full of wonder and love, spoken like a secret just between them. Eli’s face lit up with a smile that held all the joy in the world.

Ellen’s thumb brushed over the photo, her eyes stinging.

Four years had passed since the accident.

Four years since Eli’s laughter filled the house.

Four years since she slipped into silence.

Four years of holding onto memories like fragile glass — beautiful but easily shattered.

Looking at the picture now, Ellen could almost hear Luke’s voice echoing through the quiet house, calling “HanHan!�� as he always did, full of hope and innocence.

She could almost see Eli turning toward him, happiness shining in her eyes, the way she’d drop everything to chase after her brothers, boss them around, love them fiercely.

Tears blurred Ellen’s vision as she whispered to the empty room, “My sweet HanHan…”

The name wasn’t just a memory. It was a thread connecting past and present. The hope that maybe, somehow, Eli was still there — still hearing, still loving, still HanHan to her brothers.

Ellen gently set the photo down and closed the box.

She stood up from the couch and walked toward the kitchen.

Jim stood at the stove, stirring quietly. Ellen leaned against the counter, her wine glass cradled in her hands, the sleeves of her sweater pushed up to her elbows. The silence between them wasn’t heavy—it rarely was. After twenty-plus years of marriage, silence could just mean safety.

Still, Ellen’s voice broke the silence gently. “I saw William last week.”

Jim didn’t look up from the stove. “Oh, yeah?”

“When I was at the PWHL conference in Toronto, I decided to grab a coffee with him.”

“That’s nice of you, honey. How is he doing?”

“He looks… better. He finished therapy and seems lighter, I guess. Smiling more. I’m glad his parents convinced him to do it—it seemed to help.” She paused, searching for the right words. “And… he met someone.”

Jim turned toward her, the wooden spoon still in his hand. Surprise flickered in his eyes, but there was no anger. “Oh? Well, I guess we told him last Christmas to get out there and move on. Who is she?”

“Her name’s Lena Gunnarsson. She’s Swedish too and lost her husband, her first love 6 years ago. Same kind of story.” Ellen’s smile was faint, almost fragile. “I guess, grief recognizes its own.”

Jim raised an eyebrow but waited, sensing Ellen wasn’t finished.

“I think that’s why he’s drawn to her,” Ellen said softly, almost to herself. “Not because he’s falling in love, but because he doesn’t have to explain anything. She just… understands him. No explanations, no judgment. It’s safe.”

Jim set the spoon down on a folded towel, folding his arms. “You think that’s a bad thing?”

Ellen exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s exactly what he needs right now. But when I look at him—really look—I don’t see the same spark I used to. Not the way he used to light up when he talked about Eli or the future he dreamed for them.”

Jim nodded slowly, leaning back against the counter. “He’s been through hell, Ellen. No one would expect him to bounce back overnight.”

“I know,” she whispered. “And I’m proud of him. God, I am. He stayed. He waited. He never gave up on our baby, not really.” Her voice cracked. “But I worry… I worry he’s building his future on a foundation of shared pain rather than hope.”

Jim reached out, resting a steady hand on her shoulder. “You mean he’s settling? Because it’s comfortable?”

Ellen nodded. “Maybe. It’s safer to be with someone who knows the ache, who understands the silence, than to risk the messiness of love again. But that’s not really living, is it? That’s surviving.”

Jim exhaled softly, his gaze drifting away as he absently wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. After a moment, he spoke, his voice quiet but steady.

“You remember what I told William, don’t you? To let go. To find something new.”

Ellen nodded slowly. “You were right. He needed to hear it.”

Jim looked down at the counter, voice quieter. “But now that it’s happening... it feels strange. Different than I imagined.”

Ellen stepped closer, voice gentle. “How so?”

Jim swallowed. “I thought I’d feel relieved. Like a weight lifted. Instead, it’s like... I’m betraying my own daughter. Abandoning a space that should only be hers.”

He glanced up, eyes filled with a mix of sadness and confusion. “It’s not anger, or resentment. It’s... guilt.”

Ellen reached out, her hand covering his. “Jim...”

“I love William. I always have. But this—” He gestured vaguely, “—this feels like I’m letting go of Eli in a way I’m not ready for.”

Ellen’s voice was steady but tender. “Jim, you’re not betraying anyone. You wanted the best for William—because you love him. Because you love Eli. Wanting William to find happiness again doesn’t mean you’re letting Eli go. Eli wanted that for him, honey.”

Jim nodded slowly but his eyes didn’t quite meet hers. “I know.It’s just… emotions don’t always follow logic El.”

Ellen squeezed his hand. “Yeh, that’s true.”

She took a breath, steadying herself. “That’s why I’m scared for William. Because I think he’s trying to do what’s right, instead of what feels right. Because he’s afraid of loving again, not because he doesn’t want to, but because the fear of loss is still so big.”

They stood quietly, the kitchen filled only by the hum of the stove and the steady rhythm of their breaths.

Ellen finally whispered, “I’m just scared for him. That he’s so afraid of losing again, he won’t let himself love again.”

Jim bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“We just have to trust him. Trust that he’ll find his way. Maybe it won’t be perfect. Maybe it won’t look like what we imagined. But it can still be something beautiful.”

Ellen nodded slowly, still holding his hand.

“I want him to have a future that’s more than just making it through. More than just breathing.”

“Me too, El,” Jim said softly, his voice thick with quiet emotion. “More than anything, me too.”

—

The envelope was still sitting on the counter.

Stephanie hadn’t opened it right away—just stared at the creamy paper like it had personally offended her. Now it was splayed open, invitation on display, as if the words might rearrange themselves into something less surreal.

William & Lena

She read it again.

William & Lena.

It didn’t matter how elegant the font was or how understated the navy and gold design looked. To Steph, it was a soft betrayal dressed up in tasteful serif type.

She stood in the kitchen, one hand pressed to her belly like she was physically holding herself together, the other gripping a mug of now-cold tea. Her knuckles were white on the handle. The silence around her buzzed like static.

Mitch stepped in from the hallway, unwinding his scarf and shrugging off the last of the cold outside. He saw her posture first—stiff, braced—then saw the envelope.

He didn’t need to ask.

“Steph,” he said gently, his voice a thread. “You okay?”

She didn’t look at him. Her eyes were locked on the invitation, like if she blinked, it might morph into something else.

“They’re getting married. In Sweden. In August.” Her voice was clipped, deliberate, like if she said it too softly it might sound reasonable.

“It’s like Eli never happened.”

Mitch exhaled, slow. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” she snapped. One hand stayed anchored on her belly like a warning. “He’s marrying someone else, Mitch. Just like that. After everything. After her.”

“It’s been almost five years, Steph.”

“Four and a half,” she corrected. Too fast.

Her voice cracked slightly, then hardened. “They’ve been together since they were teenagers. They married each other. And now he’s acting like she’s just a part to be replaced—like some role that can be recast.”

Mitch crossed the kitchen slowly, pulled out a chair at the table, and sat. He rested his arms on the table, calm and quiet, the way you approach someone who’s standing too close to a ledge.

“He’s not replacing her. No one could.”

“Then what the hell is he doing?” she said, each word sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like settling. Like he just got tired of being alone and picked the next safest option.”

Mitch hesitated, letting the words settle before he answered.

“Maybe that’s all he has left in him, Steph. Maybe Lena isn’t some grand, romantic love—but maybe she’s someone he can survive.”

Stephanie scoffed, moving again, pacing like she couldn’t stay in her skin. Her fingers twisted the sleeve of her sweater.

“She doesn’t even know him,” she said bitterly. “Not like Eli did. Not like we do. She didn’t see what Eli brought out in him. The way he used to laugh around her—really laugh. Like he believed in something. Now he just... floats. Like he’s underwater all the time. And this wedding?” She gestured toward the counter, voice rising. “This feels like a checkbox.”

Mitch watched her, letting her unravel, knowing she had to.

“A freaking wedding?!” she went on, shaking her head. “He couldn’t even call. Just had his assistant send out invitations like it’s some goddamn charity gala.”

“He probably didn’t know how to say it,” Mitch offered gently.

“Oh, but a monogrammed RSVP card says it better?”

“Steph…”

“No, Mitch. No.” Her voice was rising now, more broken than loud. “This is not okay. He doesn’t get to rewrite everything just because he’s tired of being sad. He doesn’t get to bury Eli under this new-life package just because he wants to feel normal again.”

Mitch stood slowly. He approached her like one might approach a wounded animal—deliberate, soft, steady—but didn’t touch her. He knew she needed space to bleed it all out.

“He’s not burying her.”

“He is,” she snapped. “He’s remarrying. That’s not some minor thing. That’s not therapy or smiling again or going back to the gym. That’s permanent. That’s him telling the world Eli is behind him.”

Mitch turned to the counter and leaned against it, arms crossed. His expression was tired but open.

“Steph, it’s been four and a half years. That’s a long time to stand still.”

“She’s still alive,” she hissed.

He looked at her.

“She’s not gone. Don’t talk about her like she’s gone. Don’t you dare.”

There it was—her line. The edge of her world. But Mitch didn’t flinch.

“I know she is,” he said softly. “But you know she’s not coming back.”

Stephanie shut her eyes. Her jaw clenched so tightly the tendons stood out along her neck. For a moment, she looked like she might scream just to clear the air.

“I hate that you say it like that,” she whispered. “Like it’s just a fact we’re supposed to accept. Like you’ve made peace with it.”

“I haven’t,” Mitch said. “I just... made space for it.”

“She was my best friend Mitch,” Steph said. Her voice was barely audible now. “We were supposed to raise our kids together. We had names picked out. We made stupid Pinterest boards. She would’ve been this baby’s godmother.”

Her fingers found the edge of the counter, gripping it like a lifeline.

“And now I’m supposed to send a gift and wear pastel and clap for this new chapter like none of that mattered?”

Mitch moved to her, slowly, resting his hands on her arm. She didn’t pull away.

“No one’s asking you to pretend.”

“Really?” she said, half-laughing, half-weeping. “Because this?” She pointed at the invitation. “This feels a hell of a lot like pretending. Like we’re supposed to accept Lena as the sequel and call it healing.”

He guided her to sit, crouched beside her, never letting go of her hand.

“Steph. You’re right. It’s unfair. It’s messy and yes, it feels wrong. But maybe for Will, it’s taken everything just to get to the point where he can even try again. Maybe this isn’t a betrayal. Maybe this is the bravest thing he’s capable of.”

Her eyes were glassy, red-rimmed. Her hands trembled.

“I don’t want to see him happy if she’s not there,” she whispered. “Is that insane?”

Mitch shook his head. “It’s not insane. It’s human.”

She looked away. “I just don’t want him to live a lie. He loved Eli in this big, messy, all-consuming way. And now he’s marrying someone who fits into the grief. Who doesn’t make waves. Who doesn’t make him feel too much.”

Mitch exhaled through his nose. “Maybe that’s all he can handle.”

“But is that love, Mitch?” Her voice cracked again. “Or is that just... not drowning?”

He didn’t answer. Just held her hand.

“Does it matter?” he said finally. “If it keeps him alive, if it gives him peace... maybe we don’t get to define it.”

“I want more for him,” she whispered. “Even if he doesn’t want it for himself.”

“I know,” Mitch said. “Me too.”

They sat like that for a long time. The kitchen ticked with the quiet hum of the fridge, the distant creak of winter settling into the house.

Then Steph stirred again.

“And you know what else?” Her tone shifted, sharper now. “She’s going to be one of us. A Toronto WAG.”

Mitch blinked. “Steph…”

“No, I know it sounds petty, but it’s not. You remember what it was like—Eli was part of our crew. She was real. We weren’t brunch-photo wives, we were actual friends. A unit.”

She rubbed at her face with her sleeve, half laughing in disbelief.

“And now Lena gets to wear the jacket? Sit in our row? Be invited to wives’ game night and act like she belongs?”

Mitch watched her with quiet sympathy.

“It’s just a label, baby.”

“You know it’s not,” she said. “You know what that space meant. Eli was the soul of that group. She loved it.”

Mitch wrapped his arms around her. This time she melted into him, boneless with exhaustion.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “But I also know this baby is coming soon. And your hormones are setting fires.”

Stephanie let out a choked laugh, half sob.

“So I’m irrational?”

“I’m saying you already lost Eli once, and now it feels like you’re losing her again. And that’s terrifying.”

She nodded against him, the tears finally free now. Her shoulders shook.

“I don’t want to be this bitter,” she said finally. “I don’t want to hate someone I don’t even know.”

“You don’t hate her,” Mitch said gently. “You just miss Eli so much you don’t know where to put it.”

Mitch whispered, “We’ll go. We don’t have to smile. We don’t even have to stay long. But I think we should go. For William. For Eli.”

“Alright,” she said, voice low. “But we’re sitting in the back. And I’m wearing black. No exceptions.”

Mitch raised an eyebrow. “Black? Like funeral black?”

She gave him a look that was part mischief, part steel. “Exactly.”

He laughed softly. “You’re going to be a real joy at the wedding.”

“Someone’s got to keep things interesting.”

Mitch shook his head, smiling as he pulled her into a gentle hug again. “Deal.”

—

Jack pushed open the hospital door with a soft creak, stepping into the quiet, sterile room where his sister lay still — fragile as a glass sculpture, untouched by time but entirely changed by it. The faint beep of monitors was the only sound, steady and constant.

He stepped inside, slow. Careful. Like if he moved too fast, the moment would shatter.

It smelled like antiseptic and flowers that died three days ago.

Jack swallowed hard, the weight of five years and ninety-seven days pressing on his chest like it wanted to break something inside him. He hadn’t been here in weeks — between the season, the travel, the rehab — but today... today he couldn’t stay away.

He eased into the chair next to her bed, eyes scanning the stillness of her face. Peaceful. Pale. So fucking familiar. And so far away.

“Hey, big sis,” he said softly. “It’s been a while, huh?”

He reached for her hand — warm, soft, weightless — and curled his fingers around it. Holding on to something that felt like her.

“You took a long nap,” he whispered, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth, weak and cracked. “Five years and ninety-seven days. But who’s counting, right? Just your favorite brother keeping tabs.”

His thumb ran over the back of her hand, slow and rhythmic.

“I told myself I’d come every other month. Sit here. Talk. Let you know what’s going on. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

He swallowed.

“I just... I hate seeing you like this, Eli. You’re here, but not. Breathing, but silent. It’s like someone hit pause on your life, and we’re all just... waiting. And every time I walk in, it feels like you’re going to wake up. Like you’ll roll your eyes at me and say I’m late or my hair looks dumb.”

He laughed — quiet, rough.

“I don’t want this to be what I remember when I think of you. This frozen version of you.”

He sat back, dragging a hand down his face, then sighed.

“Anyway. Catching you up.”

He sniffed and cleared his throat.

“Mom and Dad are... well, they’re Mom and Dad. You know. Stubborn and weirdly optimistic in ways that make no sense. Dad’s golfing like he’s on the senior tour. He’s either on the course or on YouTube watching some guy named Sven talk about putters. Mom’s pissed because he’s ‘wasting his damn knees’ but she’s been crazy busy, too. She took this new position with the women’s Olympic team — she’s basically coaching the coaches. Yelling at them and bossing them around. She’s so in her element it’s scary. You’d love it.”

He smiled faintly.

“They miss you. I mean, they won’t say it—not directly. But it’s there. Like... Mom still folds your hoodie and leaves it draped over the back of the chair, like you might swing by. And Dad—he keeps your old voicemail saved on his phone. Listens to it sometimes when he thinks no one’s around. Just stands there in the garage like he’s fixing something, but he’s not. He just... misses you.”

His jaw flexed. “They stopped saying your name after the second year. Like if they say it, something will snap.”

A beat passed.

“Luke’s in the NHL now.”

He gave a small laugh.

“I know, right? Baby Luke. He’s fast, cocky, impossible to deal with — so, basically perfect. You missed his first game. You would’ve hated missing it. He had your name inside his glove. We both did. He’s doing great. I mean, I live with him, so I also know that he leaves wet towels on the floor and eats pasta at 2 a.m. straight from the pot like a gremlin, but still. He’s killing it. I’m trying not to murder him. Mostly succeeding.”

Jack exhaled, shoulders slumping.

“Quinn... Quinn’s dating someone. Kinda. It’s a mess. He’s doing that thing where he’s emotionally constipated but still somehow kind of in love? He keeps texting me for advice like I’m some sort of love guru. I’m like, ‘Bro, I’m still figuring out if I’m emotionally available enough to own a plant.’ You’d be yelling at us both right now.”

He grew quiet.

“And then... there’s William.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck.

“He got married again.”

The words hung there, blunt and bare.

“It was a few months ago. In Sweden. Beautiful place. It was... nice. Really nice, actually. Candles everywhere. That soft, muted golden light you always loved—the kind that makes everything feel a little quieter. Everyone looked gentle, a little sad. Which, I guess, made sense.”

Jack shook his head, a pained smirk curling.

“I told him I was happy for him. And I am. Sort of. But it also felt like watching someone wear a jersey with the wrong number. You know?”

He hesitated.

“She’s not terrible, Eli. That’s what sucks. She’s... gentle. Respectful. She talks about you. Doesn’t pretend you never happened. She gets it, in this weird way. She lost someone, too. I think that’s the thing — they’re not really in love the way you two were. But they’re broken in the same shape. And I guess sometimes, broken finds broken.”

He went still again.

“But she’s not you. She’ll never be you.”

Jack drew in a shaky breath.

“Stephanie came to the wedding with Mitch. Nine months pregnant. Emotional as hell. She wore a black dress. Like, full black. Said it was ‘formal mourning attire.’ Mitch tried to stop her from wearing a damn veil. She was fighting him in the parking lot. You would’ve laughed your ass off.”

His face softened.

“She still talks about you like you’re gonna walk through the door any second.”

He looked at Eli again.

“I do, too.”

A long silence. The kind that settled deep.

“I had another surgery,” he said eventually. “Shoulder again. Missed a small part of the season and the full playoffs. Rehab sucks. But I’m doing better. Next year I’m back. I’ll score one for you. First game. Even if it’s ugly and I trip into the net, it’s yours.”

Jack leaned forward, his forehead almost touching her hand.

“I don’t know what’s left of you in there. I don’t know if you hear me. If you’ve heard anything.”

His voice broke.

“But I love you, Eli. I love you so fucking much. And I miss you. Every day. Every goddamn day.”

And then — something shifted.

A twitch.

Barely there.

A squeeze.

Jack sat up fast.

“Eli?” he whispered.

Her eyelashes flickered. Once. Twice.

And then her eyes opened.

Wide. Unfocused. Fragile as glass.

Jack’s heart slammed into his ribs.

“Eli,” he breathed.

She blinked. Her mouth parted. Confused. Silent.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eli.”

And for the first time in five years and ninety-seven days, Jack Hughes finally felt like he could breathe again.

[physics-of-one-piece]

By the way!!!! If Cora really had a kid, and Doffy somehow did learn about their eixtence before deciding to kill his brother, would it have changed his mind? Or, at least, made him hesitate to pull the trigger?

“It would hurt. And for a moment, I would hesitate. But in the end, I’d still pull the trigger.”

Also, all these asks about the hypothetical Rosi/Reader 3-5 year old kid inspired me so have this little what-if thingy.

***

Doflamingo entered the kids bedroom.

Buffalo and Dellinger were standing over a lump under the blanket of Law’s bed. A lump that was crying and sobbing underneath the covers.

“He doesn’t want to come out, Young Master,” said Buffalo. “I offered him ice-cream, but he doesn't want it.”

“I offered him candy, too...” said Dellinger, pouting, like he didn’t understand why every kid didn't want candy.

“It’s fine,” said Doflamingo, noticing the way the blanket seemed to curl into itself at the sound of his voice. “You two head out. I need to talk to little Corazón here.”

The two headed out, and left Doflamingo and the boy alone.

Doflamingo waited, letting the silence do the work for him. However, it seemed the boy was more than fine continuing to cry under the blanket even with Doflamingo there.

So, Doflamingo broke the silence. “Just because you hide under it doesn’t mean I don’t see you.”

When the boy didn’t get out, Doflamingo let out a dramatic sigh, reached for the blanket and pulled it off him.

A small blond boy with golden blond, wavy hair sat on the bed, curled up into himself, crying. The blond boy wore a white, long-sleeved dress shirt and long navy blue trousers.

“I want daddy.” the boy said.

“He’s not going to come.” said Doflamingo patiently. “The dead can’t walk, or talk, or live. So your father won’t come.”

The blond boy sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks. It reminded Doflamingo of his brother. He looked so much like Rosi when he was a kid that Doflamingo physically fought not to reach out and hold him.

“Where’s -” Another sniffle broke through the boy’s hoarse voice. “- mommy?”

“She’s in my cabin,” Doflamingo answered. He put on a friendly smile on his face. “It’s really big and nice. Do you want to see it?”

The boy shook his head, his thick blond waves of hair tousling back and forth with the small movement.

“Do you want me to show you around the ship?” Doflamingo asked. Getting a tour by the captain himself was something he only gave to Law.

Another shake of head. Only more sobs and whimpers.

“What do you want?” Doflamingo asked, feeling a desparation he hadn’t felt since he was eight, when he was trying to get food for Rosi. “Toys? Candy? Food? If you want to see your mommy, we can go see her.”

All he got were sniffles and shakes of head. Something inside Doflamingo’s chest ached.

“Just... Stop crying.”

Doflamingo knew it sounded cold. He didn’t mean for it to sound cold, but it wasn’t like he could change his voice. His voice wasn’t quiet or soft like Rosinante’s, and he wasn’t about to pretend it was. He wasn’t about to lie.

Not like Rosinante did to him.

“The quicker you stop crying, the quicker you can do something about it. Don’t you want to get strong to kill me?”

That made the boy stop. It was as though the boy got startled by the words, shocked by them, to the point where his crying completely stopped, and he looked up at Doflamingo, revealing his shocked, wide eyes through the blond bangs.

They were reddish-brown.

“I don’t want to kill you, Uncle Doffy,” said the boy, his voice breaking on the title, like the thought of hurting Doflamingo hurt him.

“You don’t need to lie.” said Doflamingo, still smiling. “I understand if you want to.”

“I don’t want to!” yelled the boy, a firmness and determination in his voice — a conviction. He wasn’t going to budge on that. “Hurting people is wrong! I’m not gonna hurt anyone!”

The boy stared up at him with firm reddish-brown eyes, unblinking.

“Fufufu! Well, look at that. You do have a spine. About the wrong things, but there’s a spine. That’s good. You’re not completely helpless.”

“But,” said Doflamingo. He leaned down next to the boy’s ear. “That conviction of yours is going to melt like snow under the sun once you see the real world, little Corazón.”

The boy stared at him with wide eyes.

“We’ll see if you’re weak like your father or strong like your uncle.” Doflamingo chuckled. “Now that’ll be fun, fufufu!”

“But, before that...” Doflamingo snatched his nephew under the arms, lifting him up. The boy let out an ear-piercing shriek. “We have to catch up on our uncle-nephew bonding time, fufufu!”

Doflamingo pulled the boy close to his chest, putting him to sit on his forearm, small and fragile in his arms. Doflamingo kissed him on the head, ignoring his nephew’s shifting attempts to get out of his grip. It wasn't going to happen, not with how small the boy was compared to Doflamingo’s hand. He was like a baby in Doflamingo’s grip. The kiss on the crown of the head made the boy stop moving.

He looked up at Doflamingo as though he was seeing him for the very first time.

Doflamingo cradled his nephew — his nephew, he was an uncle! — close to him, and headed out the room.

***

Tagging some people cus I think they might like this: @fanaticsnail @moonbaby26 @ohnomyhooves @doffyslittledove @shanalikeanna @mandiemegatron @magnoliandew

[marauder-misprint]

hellooo congrats of 1k followers !!! you’re one of my favorite writers and I wish you 1000 more followers <3 also requesting a friends to lovers w barty crouch jr with prompt "i've loved you since the day you threw a rock at me in first grade." !!

Hi and thank you ❤︎ I changed 'first grade' to 'six' because that's the age they'd be. I suppose it could've been 'first year' but it works better with six. Trust. ❤︎ I love writing fluff. Fluffy fluffy fluffy.

1,000 Followers celebration

Hope y'all enjoy ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Good aim

Barty Crouch Jr. x Slytherin!reader

2.7k words

cw: fluff, Reader and Barty being assholes, friends to lovers

The Crouches lived down the street from you. You met Barty when you were both playing outside. He was using magic to set things on fire. You were tossing pebbles and seeing how many times they would skip before stopping. You said hi to Barty and introduced yourself. He told you his name, but that’s it. You stood next to him as he burned things for a while, until your mother called you back inside. 

That was only the beginning. You would watch Barty burn things whenever you were outside together. You weren’t as good with your magic so you hit things with sticks and rocks until they broke. Barty helped you break some bigger things and once you managed to make something explode. You both giggled about it for at least ten minutes. 

Your young friendship wasn’t perfect. You saw him outside before a party your parents were taking you to. You went out to say hi and to show him your dress. 

“I don’t like dresses,” he said. 

You scrunched your face and frowned. Your father said your dress was beautiful. You started to walk back to your house, but then you saw a decent sized rock on the road. You picked it up and hurled it at Barty. It hit him in the middle of his back. You didn’t stay to see his reaction; you ran to your parents for the party. 

You were young and Barty was your friend. The thrown rock was water under the bridge by the next time you saw him. You didn’t apologize for it and he never brought it up. You were just two kids having fun outside, casually causing destruction to the neighborhood. As you got older, your friendship persisted. Eventually you got introduced to each other’s parents and you spent time at each other’s houses. You ended up getting sorted into Slytherin together at Hogwarts and that sealed it. You would be best friends forever.

“Bartemius!” you yelled, barging into the boys’ dorm during your sixth year.

“Oi! Don’t you knock?” one of Barty’s roommates, Martin Reyes, shouted as he hurriedly pulled up his pants. 

“Nothing I ain’t seen before, Reyes. Where’s Barty?” 

He jerked his thumb toward the bathroom. You crossed the room and rapped loudly on the door.

“Bartemius!” 

“I said wait for me in the common room!” he yelled through the door. 

“Got bored.” You turned around and sat on Barty’s bed. 

“And you’re not going back out?” Martin asked. 

“Nope. Need to light a fire under his arse.”

“What are you two getting up to now?” 

“Best I don’t say. Don’t you want deniability?” 

“Right,” Martin said as he grabbed his school bag. “See you in Potions then.” 

Martin left the dorm and you fell backwards into Barty’s pillows. You closed your eyes, knowing you still had a little bit before Barty came out of the bathroom. You figured he woke up late. That wasn’t too uncommon for him. You hummed to yourself while you waited. 

“Told you to wait in the common room,” he said when he finally opened the door.

“And I said to be ready by seven. It’s seven-twenty.” You swung your legs off the bed. “Reg’s practice only goes until eight.”

“So we have plenty of time!” 

“Just grab his things and let’s go.” 

Barty grabbed Regulus’ school bag and followed you out of the dorm. You found an empty classroom, which wasn’t difficult being that breakfast wasn’t over yet. You both sat down on top of one of the desks and Barty started digging through the bag.

“Anything good?” you asked, trying to look inside as well.

“Looks like the usual. Books, essays, his quill and ink… Why did we think he had anything for us in here?”

“It’s Regulus. He’s always hiding stuff from us. Gimme the essays.”

Barty handed you the various parchments and you started to scan them. Nothing. It was homework that was due later in the week.

You sighed. “We’ll need to nick these later. His Charms essay is brill. Potions is good as ever and Defense… lazily done but still better than my half-assed usual.” 

“Oooh! What do we have here?” Barty pulled out a small black book from the bag. “This isn’t a textbook.”

You snatched it from Barty’s hands. He whined in protest but didn’t try to get the book back from you. You flipped through the pages, a grin spreading across your face.

“Not as good as a diary, but he’s reading poetry,” you laughed. “It’s romantic!” 

“Our boy’s gone soft,” Barty groaned playfully. 

You handed him the book and took the bag from his lap. You riffled through it and went through every pocket. There was a rip in the bottom, which you found odd. This was Regulus’ bag. He wouldn’t keep a ripped bag. He could have it replaced in seconds with a trip to Hogsmeade or with an owl order. You shoved your hand through the rip and found a neatly folded letter. You opened it.

“Barty. Barty. Barty!” you said, hitting the side of his arm as you read it. “REG’S GOT HIMSELF AN ADMIRER!”

“What?” Barty asked, practically falling onto your shoulder to see what you found.

“This!” You aggressively waved the letter in his face. “It’s a fucking love letter! This is so much better than poetry!”

“Who is it?” 

“Dunno. No name.”

“Damn.”

“Time to go find our seeker.” 

Regulus was not happy to see that you and Barty had his school bag when he walked into the Great Hall after his quidditch practice ended. He grabbed it from where it sat on the table and briefly looked through it.

“What’d you two do to it? Ink going to explode?” 

“Hmm, no,” you said with an innocent look on your face. “But we’re wondering… Does anyone have a thing for you?” 

If you and Barty hadn’t spent years annoying Regulus at this point, you wouldn’t have noticed the slightest tinge of pink that appeared on his ears. Your innocent look shifted into one of success as you nudged Barty’s foot under the table.

“I mean, someone must. House of Black, seeker, smart, dare I say a handsome bloke,” Barty listed off. “Right? You’d say he’s handsome?” he asked you.

You nodded. “Handsome, yes. Not my type though.”

“So, Reg, who’s your ladylove?” Barty asked, grinning.

The pink spread to his cheeks and he wouldn’t meet either of your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You sure? Mr. Lion Heart, Epitome of Art, God of the Broom, Dispeller of All Gloom?” you asked.

Pink turned into crimson. 

“Assholes. You two are assholes.” Regulus grabbed an apple and stormed out of the Great Hall while you and Barty burst into fits of laughter. 

“He’s going to hex you one day,” Pandora said from a few seats down.

“He’s already hexed us. It’s his love language,” you replied. 

For the rest of the day, you and Barty were on the lookout for Regulus’ revenge. It usually came in the form of a painful hex. But by the time you crawled into bed that night, you were unhexed. The next day came and went, as did the next. 

“He is going to get us back, right?” you asked Barty. 

“Eventually. Always does. Guess he’s taking his time.” 

It wasn’t like Regulus ended his friendship with you over teasing him about the love letter he had hidden in his bag. He gave you the cold shoulder for the rest of that day and then went back to normal. Still, like Barty said, he always got his revenge on you and Barty. It was a back-and-forth that you had going since third year. 

Regulus had a plan. He knew something and he was going to use that knowledge in his revenge. Which might not end up actually being revenge. It could, being that there was a chance it would destroy your friendship with Barty, but Regulus had a feeling that it wouldn’t. He had to wait for the right moment to reveal what he knew. 

He found you in one of the rare moments after class when you weren’t with Barty. You were in the library, trying to finish an essay for Transfiguration before you lost all ability to focus for the weekend. Regulus sat next to you. He didn’t take out anything, not even a book. 

“Yes?” you asked. 

“I’m not the only one with an admirer,” he said coolly. 

You hummed. “I’m sure lots of people have them. Yours just happened to write you a letter with poor poetry. You should give them that book you got.”

“I know who my admirer is. A book isn’t going to help them,” he chuckled. “But, I also know who yours is.” 

That got your attention. You set your quill down to prevent any rouge ink blots. You clasped your hands together in front of you and turned your head to Regulus.

“I’m listening.” 

“Oh, I’m not telling you.”

“Then why tell me I have one?” 

He shrugged. “Felt like something you should know. Good luck on that essay.”

Just like that, he was gone. You stared at your essay. How were you supposed to focus now? Regulus knew you would want to know who it was; he knew you wouldn’t be able to work on homework any more. It would only be a matter of time until you came back to the common room so he had to work fast. 

He headed to his dorm. He needed butterbeer, firewhiskey and a small vial that contained a potion he had been saving for a special occasion. Regulus decided that occasion would be today. He cracked open one of the butterbeers and waited. 

“Reeeeeguuulussssss,” Barty drawled, entering their dorm. “I’m bored.” 

Subject one had arrived. 

“Here,” Regulus said, tossing one of the butterbeer bottles to Barty.

He caught it and opened it. “Thanks.” 

“Why aren’t you off causing trouble?” Regulus asked. He needed to make conversation until you arrived. 

“Apparently, McGonagall’s essay outranks me,” Barty sighed as he sat down and put his feet up on his desk.

“Can’t get into trouble alone?” 

“It’s more fun when she’s around.”

“Okay, and you can’t bother Reyes? Or Rosier, Snape, Mulciber, Avery?” Regulus asked. 

“You’re trying to get rid of me after giving me a drink?”

“‘M just reminding you there are more than two other people who tolerate you.”

“I think you more than tolerate me, Black.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Crouch.”

“How come you’re not out with your secret lover?” 

“We have plans for later this weekend. Not that that’s important.”

“You know who it is?” Barty gasped, jumping up from his chair. “Who?”

“Right, because I’d tell you that.”

“I’ll find out eventually.”

“You’ll find out when I want you to.” 

Barty took a long swig of his butterbeer. 

Their dorm door swung open with a bang, revealing you. Subject two. You glared at Regulus.

“I was trying to be productive,” you announced. You slammed the door shut behind you. “You are a complete arse, Regulus Black.”

“What’d he do?” Barty asked.

“Disrupted my studying!” 

Regulus smirked. You walked past Barty to sit on his bed, grabbing a butterbeer from Regulus’ desk as you passed it. 

“Sure, help yourself to one,” Regulus said dryly.

“It’s payment for making me do homework on a Saturday!”

“I’m not making you do anything.”

You waved your hand in his direction. “Technicalities.” 

Barty drained the rest of his butterbeer and eyed the firewhiskey. 

“Mind if I break into the good stuff, my dear and lovely friend, Reg?” Barty asked, giving him a crooked grin that said he was going to pour himself a cup whether or not he said yes.

“It’s already open.” 

Barty’s grin widened. He helped himself, pouring a double, and then held the bottle in your direction, offering to pour you one. You held up your butterbeer. He nodded and took a sip before returning to his chair. Regulus watched him carefully. 

“What’s with that look?” you asked Regulus.

“Huh? Nothing.”

“No, you look like you know something.”

“I know lots of things.”

“He’s not feeling particularly generous with his knowledge today,” Barty told you. “Apparently he knows who his secret admirer is and he won’t tell me.”

“He claims to know my secret admirer as well,” you said, rolling your eyes.

Barty choked on his whiskey. He gave Regulus a worried glance. 

“I do know,” Regulus said with a sly smile. “Barty knows too.”

“You knew that someone fancies me and you didn’t tell me?” you gasped, tossing one of his pillows at him. “Asshole!” 

“That’s correct,” Barty said, trying to school his expression. Something felt wrong in his brain, but he couldn’t identify it. 

“Some best friend you are! I thought we told each other everything!” you exclaimed. Your words were accusatory but your tone was playful. 

“Not everything…” 

“Not everything? Bartemius, what haven’t you told me?” 

“I’ve loved you since the day you threw a rock at me when we were six,” Barty blurted. The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

You stared at Barty with wide eyes as your brain tried to process what he just said. Barty looked away from you with a bright red face and turned to Regulus. 

“What did you do?” he asked him with a strained voice. 

“Testing if I brewed my Veritaserum correctly. Sounds like I did,” Regulus said smugly. 

You turned to Regulus. “Veritaserum?” 

He nodded, standing up and moving toward the door. “I’ll give you two some space.” 

Once he was gone, a thick silence fell over the dorm. Barty had put his cup down on the desk and leaned over his knees with his head in his hands. He had been content loving you in secret. You understood him so perfectly. You knew when the burning and destroying things was covering up something else. You listened to him rant about the pressure his father put on him to get excellent marks so he could go into the ministry like he did. You held him when his mother had a health scare. And you had been there for so long. 

“Barty?” you asked softly. 

Physically, he wasn’t far away. All you would have to do is stand up and take one step and you’d be right in front of him. Mentally, you knew he was spiraling. That’s what Barty did. 

“Barty,” you repeated when he didn’t respond. 

He still didn’t move or say anything. He was preparing himself for rejection – waiting for you to say he was just a friend, basically a brother. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you watched his body shudder with a shaky breath. You stood up and took the one step toward him. Then you crouched down to be at his eye level. You ran a gentle hand through his messy hair. 

“Since we were six?” you asked. Your hand came to rest on his upper arm. 

“I’m going to murder him.”

“Well, we’ll have to tell him the serum doesn’t last long,” you said with a soft laugh. “You love him too much.” 

Silence. 

“Barty. Since we were six?” 

He nodded. His head was still in his hands. He couldn’t bring himself to look at you. He didn’t want to see the pity in your eyes as you tried to let him down gently. 

“You know, that makes me look bad, right?” 

“How so?” he grumbled. 

“Since we were six?” you repeated again. “I didn’t realize I loved you until last year.” 

Barty slowly looked up. His face was still bright red, but now he looked shocked rather than embarrassed and furious at Regulus. 

“You… you… you love-”

“I love you, yes.” You laughed and took his hands in yours so that he couldn’t hide his face again. “It just took me a lot longer to realize it.” 

“I mean, I’ve heard most people don’t throw rocks at people they like.”

“Most people don’t like having rocks thrown at them.” 

“I liked how you had good aim.” 

“Only you, Barty… Only you.”

Then you pressed a kiss to Barty’s cheek.

“Oi, I thought you had good aim.” 

You raised your eyebrows, unsure of what he meant. 

“You missed,” he said before taking his hands out of yours to grab your face and crash his lips onto yours. 

You understood what he meant. You had missed. 

Tags: @navs-bhat, @faceache111

[mokulule]

Dead on MAYn - Day 1

Trope | Ghost Culture is Weird Word | Bones Situation | Jason meets Danny as a ghost. Dialogue | "Wait, you can see me?" Warnings: this is rather angsty and I almost made myself cry writing it. It also has Jason crawling out of his grave. This particular ficlet does not have a happy ending, but I imagine one for the AU, I will explain at the end for those interested. -

It was a rare cloudless night in Gotham Cemetery. Those were the best nights because in the pale light of the moon Jason almost felt physical enough to touch things. He couldn’t of course, but it still made him feel like maybe he could, that he was more than a shade, that he existed at some point as more.

A figure walked alone along the paths and Jason followed them with his eyes. He supposed it was a nice night for a walk, but it was still an odd thing to do. When he got closer he could tell it was a young man who couldn’t be much older than Jason was. Unexpectedly instead of walking past him, he looked up and met Jason’s eyes.

“Wait, you can see me?” Jason asked in surprise at the stranger who looked straight at him. He halfway expected the tired blue eyed gaze to slide right off him as they aligned on someone behind him as had happened so many times before - but they didn’t. They stayed focused on Jason, met his eyes and there was the slightest uptick of his lips before he spoke to Jason.

“I can.”

Such simple words, and yet they brought such strong hope into Jason’s chest, he felt like he could soar, but a sudden thought brought him straight back down to Earth.

“Are you here to collect me?” He certainly didn’t look like the grim reaper. In fact he looked pretty regular in his worn jeans and dark canvas jacket. His black hair was messy and he had nothing like the sort ominous important aura you’d expect the grim reaper to have. That didn’t stop the chill down Jason’s back when he replied:

“In a way.”

“You see,” the stranger continued tilting his head looking from Jason and then down to his grave thoughtfully, “I heard rumors of a ghost stuck to his grave, so I came to investigate.”

Jason unconsciously folded in on himself, rubbing an arm. So it wasn’t normal. One would think a graveyard would be full of ghosts, but it wasn’t. It was just him. “So what’s the verdict?”

“Well, I see the problem alright. You’re still tethered to your body. Probably something to do with this weirdo city, it’s got a strong grip on you.” He looked around with a frown.

A shiver went through Jason as he looked down at the well-kept ground that hid his rotting corpse six feet under.

“It’s not as bad as all that.” The guy rightly read his expression. “Body’s probably not in that bad a shape, you’re taking baby steps to becoming something like me.

Jason swallowed and looked back up at the seemingly human being before him. “And what’s that?”

“Something both alive and dead,” he shrugged. “Anyways, the way I see it you have a choice to make. One-“ He held up a finger - “We let things be as they are, see where this brings us.“

He waved his hand around encompassing Jason and his grave.

“Two.” Another finger joined the first. “I sever the tether and allow you to move on.”

Jason felt like a hand was squeezing his non-existent heart. He didn’t want to die. He knew he was already dead, he’d after all been right there when it all exploded, but right now he wasn’t gone. Even so, the idea of staying here alone until whatever was happening finished happening was torture. He couldn’t do that.

“How long?” Jason should have specified, but the guy seemed to know what he meant.

“Probably years.”

Years. Jason couldn’t do it. He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily before meeting blue eyes head on - and it was really curious the way that was the only color Jason could see.

“Is there really no other way?”

Thick eyebrows rose in surprise, then drew together. “You’re not even considering being allowed your rest?”

Jason laughed humorlessly. “I’m a ghost ain’t I? Unfinished business and all that.”

Jason’s murderer was still out there, and so were so many others who would hurt and kill people like Jason - Jason’s people.

Something flashed across the guy’s face, but it was quickly dismissed. He shook his head. “No, look, if you don’t want me to sever the connection, I will visit you when I can?”

But Jason had seen it, that flash of something on his face. “No, please.”

He floated forward and grabbed onto the guy’s jacket, surprised to actually feel the fabric real beneath his fingers, instead of his hands going uselessly through him, but that wasn’t important now. “You thought of another option!”

He grimaced and then to Jason’s shock leaned his forehead gently against his. His skin was cool, definitely not warm like a human's, but it was real real real. The simple touch sang in his soul.

“It is not a good option, Jason.”

Jason startled at the mention of his name, momentarily moving away but then quickly moving back in desperate for touch, desperate to feel anything other than despair. It was not strange the guy knew his name, it was right there on his fucking tombstone.

The guy welcomed him, allowing him to lean his forehead back against his. Then a hand cradled his head, fingers digging slightly into his scalp and Jason would have choked on a sob if he actually breathed anymore, instead he just hurt.

“I swear, I will visit you.”

“Tell me.”

“Jason, I am not supposed-“

“Tell me.”

The guy’s shoulders raised and lowered. Even his cool breath let go in a sigh could be felt against his face like a breath of air Jason hadn’t been able to take for who knew how long now.

“I could give you enough power to let you merge back with your body.”

“Why is this even-“

“Jason,” he said intently, grabbing and holding each side of Jason’s head so he could look at him. He spoke fast as if he knew if he gave Jason a moment to speak he would interrupt, “I am not supposed to interfere like this. It will have consequences. I won’t be able to help you. I cannot disturb a body laid to rest, you will end up down there and have to dig yourself out, do you understand?”

Jason stared wide-eyed into intense ice blue eyes that seemed to almost glow. The concept was horrifying- but the idea of years of loneliness was worse. His jaw tensed in determination.

The guy shook his head mutely in disbelief.

“What’s your name?” Jason asked, suddenly realizing he wanted to know.

“If you go down this path you won’t remember it anyways.”

“I still want to know it.”

There was an immense sadness in the gaze that met him. “It’s Danny.”

“Danny please, I can’t stay like this for years.” Jason knew he wasn’t fighting fair, but he was Robin and when you were a kid fighting crime you learned to use everything at your disposal.

Danny wavered, then finally, “Alright.”

His right hand moved down to Jason’s chest and for a moment it felt like something inside him was tugged forward like a pull, then there was a pulse. If Jason had ever imagined what a defibrillator felt like this had to be similar, it felt like a kick to his chest. It was a flood of power filling up every inch of his being.

Suddenly, Danny fell to the ground with a gasp. Heavy, green glowing chains weighed him down, around his ankles and wrists and, to Jason’s horror, tight around his throat. Danny fingers turned white as they tried fruitlessly to pull at the band locked tight around his neck. His mouth opened but no sound came out.

“No!” Jason screamed, and the force of it came out as burst of wind rustling every bit of greenery around them. But Jason didn’t have time to think about the fact that he could apparently affect his surroundings, because a glowing green portal had appeared in mid air at the other end of the chains and they were hastily reeling a struggling Danny in.

He flew forward, desperately reaching out. When Danny mentioned consequences, he hadn’t really realized they were consequences for Danny. Somehow Danny got his feet under him, tried to dig his heels in, he reached for Jason.

Jason was almost there. Their fingers were just about to touch, just a little more- the tether to Jason’s body abruptly went taut, stopping him dead in mid air. No! Jason was helpless, useless.

The last he saw of Danny was a look of resignation as the portal swallowed him up.

There was a moment of stunned silence. He failed. The only person who could see him, who could touch him. Then he screamed, a sound like no other that had ever left his throat. Almost as if Gotham herself responded the previously clear night was swallowed in clouds and it started pouring rain.

He sunk to the ground over his grave. Not that he could feel anything. It was an illusion that he actually sat on the ground. The rain poured right through him, splattering on the dirt below him.

His hand hovered over his chest. He could feel it humming, the cool power of Danny’s parting gift turning into a burning blaze in his rage. He would not waste it. He looked down at his grave, at the soon to be experienced horror.

He would make it.

He would find Danny.

-

Jason awoke with a gasp, eyes wide and unseeing. There were plush walls all around him. His fingers struggled to gain purchase. He could barely breathe. He had to get out! Finally the fabric tore. The was a sharp pain in his fingertips, under his nails. Wet warmth dribbled down his fingers.

The was something important. Something he couldn’t grasp.

A pulse in his chest lent him strength and his fist went through the wooden barrier with a crack. He pulled his hand back thoughtless of the way pointy edges scratched open his forearm. Dirt fell down and he coughed. The was no more air. Still he pulled at the edges of the hole, uncaring of the dirt that fell down choking him. He coughed and spluttered and fought to get out. Through the dirt. He didn’t know how he did it, only knew as he clutched grass, that he had to go.

He stumbled forward, on stiff awkward feet.

A bright light. A high pitched screech. Then nothing.

-

Hope you liked it! I don't know if the feelings I intended to come across worked as well on paper as in my head since I've just written it today and it's not had a chance to sit and get a proper edit. For those interested, this basically leads into canon, from my memory of reading the Lost Days comics Jason is hit by a car after crawling out his grave so that's what's going on at the end there. Then ten-ish years later Jason and Danny will meet again and get a chance at a happy ending, not that it will be easy. Jason cannot shake the feeling he's met Danny before and Danny is pretty tightlipped, cause he don't want Jason to get in trouble. I don't wanna reveal everything cause I do want to write it, though I can't say when, and I need to figure out how long I want this to be.

[carmenlikeme]

COWBOY LIKE ME: PROLOGUE

pairing: Jack Abbot x rescuer!reader

summary: After an unexpected storm hits Pittsburgh, the entire city stops. Floodings and destruction everywhere. Jack ends up trapped for two days at PTMC. When he's finally allowed to be outside, he ends up at the frontlines of the disaster, back to his MASH unit days. Abbot works right next to the rescuers, helping them stabilize patients before they reach the hospital. He meets an interesting person amongst the rescuers, and the magnetic pull is too hard to ignore. Will he give in?

OR

Where Jack Abbot meets an eccentric doctor in the middle of a catastrophe, and finds light in one of the darkest places imaginable.

genre: romance, slowburn, hurt/comfort, sprinkled comedy, idk what else, highly medically inaccurate, heavy dialogue for the first chapters.

wc: 2.3K

warnings: age gap, (reader is in her late 20's, jack late 40's) major natural disaster, medical trauma, PTSD, mentions of war and violent situations, graphic depiction of injuries, mentions of COVID and death. Will edit as I write more.

a/n: hiii!! this is the prologue of my story, it's mostly a set up of characters and storyline, I hope you enjoy it! I'll be posting chapter one in the next few days hehe

you can find the masterlist HERE!

"How are we doing?"

Gloria asked as she walked into the never welcoming Emergency Room. Robby stood in the middle of the nurse station, his eyes glued to the board as his mind raced to gather his thoughts and course of action. 

He barely registered Gloria’s voice until she stood next to him. He was sure she’d asked something more; her piercing gaze made it obvious. She blinked repeatedly, a silent question, and only then did he snap out of his world and sigh, as if he could handle her right now. As if he could handle anything else right now. 

"So far, so good, but we have a lot of people coming in just seeking shelter. Power is out almost everywhere in Pittsburgh, and according to Abbot, there are already entire neighborhoods that got wiped off the map."

Gloria didn't respond; the only answer between them was lightning and thunder outside the ED. The rain was heavy and unrelenting, but the real problem was the number of traumas they weren’t getting; just a few, something they could handle in a couple of hours. 

That meant people couldn't reach them, and God knows how many would come once the rain stopped.

It also meant that his adrenaline junkies; or as others called them, students, were fidgety, which was never good.

Shit, it even made him fidgety. He didn’t know that looking at all of those empty rooms would make him feel like that.

"Yeah, I heard it's bad. I'm trying to get you as many supplies and food as soon as possible, but all roads are blocked. How's everyone?"

He stopped blinking.

"Skittish, suicidal, damn; I'm sure they're about to jump out of the building at any moment. I would too."

She stayed quiet once again.

"Yeah, I can't reach my family either."

Robby finally looked away from the board, he sighed once more. Gloria didn’t seem to move, she was oddly calm for a situation like that. It wasn’t foreign to her, in all their years working together, she never flinched. Not even at the peak of the COVID crisis, even then, she was counting patient satisfaction scores.

“I’m sorry. I’ll ask Kiara if she can reach them.”

“Thanks. I’ll be in my office if you need something. I heard it’s all hands on deck.”

Just like that, she left before anyone could ask her anything.

Abbot joined the conversation just as Gloria left. He looked a little bit tired, but he was as sharp as ever. On the other side, Robby felt like something horrible was about to happen and he didn't have any form to stop it. Abbot was the complete opposite, a good man in the storm, —no pun intended—, the clear and calm mind in the middle of chaos. Robby would lie if he said he wasn't a little jealous of him sometimes.

Jack didn't ask about Gloria, despite his shameless eavesdropping from behind. Instead, he looked at the board along with Robby. It wasn’t time to activate full emergency protocols, but he knew it was close. Still, that wasn't the intention of his impromptu visit to the nurse station.

"Did you hear? They declared state of emergency, and they're getting rescue teams down here to help us."

It had been a bad couple of days. The rain came out of nowhere, and it only got worse, slow, relentless, and destructive. Before anyone realized, people couldn't leave their houses and some of them were already compromised by the heavy rain. It was still somewhat salvageable but less than 12 hours ago it got worse, with high speed winds that threatened to make everything worse, the city was on pause. Still in the middle of chaos.

Worse part? Immediate response was already at max capacity, and they had barely touched the surface of the catastrophe. 

"Well, I now thank my old concrete apartment complex, at least I know it won't fall apart."

Jack scoffed, his hands going to his face in early defeat. If it weren't for the hospital being in a relatively safe zone, and their emergency protocols in place, he was sure they would be underwater too. But at the moment, it felt like they floating on a bubble under the ocean.

And it could burst at any second.

"Is it true?"

Princess walked towards the two men, her phone in hand, showing them a video. Robby had to put on his glasses to see, but even then, they still weren't sure what they were looking at.

"They say a rescue team from Mexico is coming due to the disaster."

Princess flipped the phone slightly towards her to speed up the video, where now a dozen people with orange jumpsuits could be seen getting ready to board a plane.

Abbot was immediately interested. He’d heard about those rescue groups and knew a bit about them, was never able to see their work up close to thank them for their labor. The wicked part inside of his brain sparked at the idea of seeing that in action.

"They're called topos." Princess’s Filipino accent slipped on the last word.

“Topo? As in mole? Like the animal? That’s Tagalog.” 

“And Spanish.”

Perlah joined the conversation and pulled out her own phone to show them more pictures of the team. She knew a little about them too, but it was also mostly a mystery to her.

"Oh, yeah, I know them. They're like rescue nomads.” Abbot said, finding a granola bar in his pocket and opening it as he spoke. Robby took a piece without asking. Princess and Perlah followed suit, which forced him to find another one for himself.

“What does rescue nomad even mean?” McKay asked, sneaking next to Abbot.

Robby bit the inside of his mouth and took a look at the oddly clean board. No one wanted to say anything, they feared the minute they would mention it, patients would fall from the sky into their ED. Something about everyone gathering there started to bother him. Those were the moments when he needed Shen to crack a joke and hope for the best, maybe even throwing the Q word, and just end their misery altogether. 

“They’re specialized lightweight first responders, any type of disaster you can think of, these guys can be there by yesterday and help you solve it. Last I heard, they were helping people in Spain due to their flooding. They even have K9s they train themselves, but they’re not your standard government issue rescue, they’re all volunteers.”

“Specialized in floodings?” McKay asked as she peeked beside Robby, trying to catch a better glimpse of the people they were talking about.

“Specialized in everything. Flooding, earthquakes, hurricanes, explosions, fires, you name it.”

“Damn, so they’re pretty badass.”

“Oh, so they’re those people who get under the rubble to pull people out?” Perlah scrolled, looking for more videos and pictures. By that moment, Dana was coming back to the nurse station, which immediately made Robby walk away in silence as he knew what was coming.

“Yeah, that’s why they’re called moles.”

“Wait, how do you guys have wi-fi and I can’t even get—?”

“Looking for anything here, folks?” Dana asked, which made Perlah and Princess scatter immediately. McKay tried to be more subtle, turning back slowly as if she’d just been there to grab a chart. Abbot disappeared before anyone even noticed.

“You’re scary.” Robby whispered, taking one of the coffees Dana offered him. She laughed, taking a sip of her own as she settled beside him. “Is your family okay?”

The hospital was safe, it seemed as the only place like that, for now. The worst of the heavy rain started right in the middle of the shift change, so they were working in a forced on-call rotation. Right now, most of the night shift was sleeping, at least the ones who could. 

“Yeah, they left for Florida to visit the grandparents before all of this. At least I know they’re okay. What about you, is Jake okay?”

Jake. A whole unexplored topic for Dana to poke until he caved. Robby looked to the side before laughing to himself.

“He’s good. He’s talking to me now, which is way more than I expected. He and his mom are in a safe zone.”

“Well, yeah. I’m sure he’s feeling guilty about how he talked to you. It’s been almost a year.”

Dana didn’t push further. She didn’t have to. Instead, she stood next to Robby. He knew she was trying to comfort him, but at the same time, Dana would never escape the chance to try and pull him out of the gutter, no matter how much he grumbled about it.

“Stop looking at the board, it’s bad juju,” Samira whispered as she passed by. She had that same energetic bounce as the PittFest mass casualty hit.

“You believe in that stuff?” Robby asked, glancing one more time before walking away.

“You don’t?”.

Sixteen hours and at least two gallons of coffee later, Abbot and Robby started to despise the once beloved cafeteria sandwiches they were eating. Food supplies were still running low, so they were working with what they had and stretching it out as much as possible. But in all honesty, as their once-endless stack of coffee dwindled, things started to get very worrisome.

Doctors could live without food. They’d die within the hour without coffee.

It was noon when the rain stopped, or at least eased enough not to drown anytime you tried to come out. There was still an eerie silence as people mopped the entrance of the ED, but it seemed as if catastrophe was just creeping behind them. The TVs came back on, power was restored all over the hospital but they were told it could disappear again at any second. Gloria still made sure to come back and demand not to use any type of non-essential device, so everyone made sure to charge their phones somewhere she wouldn’t check.

Patients trickled in quietly. The cafeteria, waiting room, and other parts of the first floor turned into a shelter for those who couldn’t get to their home in time, or for the unfortunate unhoused who arrived at the shelters too late. By 2 o’clock, the ED was partially full.

“Hey, Robby,” Dana called from her spot. He walked over, giving Mel a few instructions for an incoming patient. Dana tapped her pen against the desk with a quiet sense of urgency, something she only did when facing a difficult choice. She allowed him to continue speaking even as he stood next to her. 

“Command is asking for backup: emergency, surgery, and a nurse. Oh, and anyone else you can spare. Seems like the rescue guys are working overtime. ETA for transport is ten minutes.”

“Oh, yeah…” Robby looked around, scanning the ED before grabbing one of the phones to call surgery. “Can you call Abbot? He might be sleeping, but I need someone up front when I’m gone.”

“I’ll go wake him up myself. Do you want Jesse or Mateo in the field?”

“Either is good, ask them if— hello?” 

Robby turned around right as Dana headed towards the call rooms, waving goodbye. 

“Yes, Dr. Stevens, command just called. They need at least one from surgery on the field, plus anyone you can spare.” 

He paused, the always unfortunate Whitaker walked by, just close enough for Robby to motion him over. “Garcia? Yes, she’ll be great. We leave in ten. Whitaker! Get a jacket, we’re leaving.”

“A jacket?” Whitaker whispered to himself and walked towards the locker rooms with more urgency than expected.

In the meantime, Robby took a final walk around the ED before heading out, but just as Jack walked next to Dana, go-bag in hand, he knew that wouldn’t be necessary. Jack would tackle him before missing the chance of running point at the triage zone. 

“Get any good sleep?” 

Robby didn’t stop walking, falling in step with Abbot as they reached the ambulance bay. 

“I never miss the feeling of sleeping on the floor, but I’ll manage.”

“You can always steal one of those plastic chairs from the cafeteria.”

“And risk hurting my back again? No, thank you.”

They were the last ones to join the group.

Garcia snapped out of her phone but didn't say anything. Abbot dropped the bag on the ground. Rain needled the pavement, the faint wail of sirens layering over the already high tensions in the air.

“Got everything you need?”

Everyone nodded. Abbot stood in the middle of his newfound team and Robby. Silence filled the cracks. His mind raced to find some reassuring words, but he came out empty. He sucked at it. Finally, the transport unit showed up.

“Any words of encouragement, chief?” Abbot inquired once everyone was settled inside. 

Robby’s gaze hit him, exasperated. 

“Okay then. Let’s go.”

Finally, something broke the silence.

“Uhm, where are we going?”

Garcia, barely spared Whitaker a look, pressed lips into a line. Her fingers squeezed the backpack.

“Triage on site. They need someone to stabilize patients before they reach the hospital.”

Robby held onto the door, Abbot still urged him to say something. But maybe nothing was better.

“The van will take you as close to the disaster zone as possible,” he mumbled. “But there’s about a five-minute walk to reach the rescue teams.”

He paused.

“Good luck.”

Robby stopped himself from closing the door.

“Wait, I forgot.”

He smiled widely, unapologetic. 

“We’re out of coffee, try to bring some back, or else.”

“Coffee?” Garcia snarked back, deadpan. “Even the Waffle House back in Washington is closed. Best I can give you is mud with stevia.” 

“Damn” Mateo muttered. “Not even a limited menu? We’re in deep shit.” 

“I know a Chinese place that’s still open, but they don’t do takeout today. Marco is out.”

Robby sighed in true defeat.

“Then just get the coffee. Organic.”

“Gravel is up to your taste?” Garcia suggested before Robby closed the van’s door for good.

Any sparkle of joy died almost instantly.

The silence was immediately replaced by the rattle of the van. No one said anything, or rather, no one knew what to say. They feared they were getting into something bigger than themselves.

And oh, how true that was. 

© CARMENLIKEME 2025. All rights reserved. Do not repost, modify or claim as yours.

[honeygrahambitch]

"Will," Hannibal said as he entered the living room holding the hamster's cage, "Will, it stopped moving."

"What did you do?" Will asked as he opened the lid, "Dr. Whiskers, wake up."

"I sneezed next to the cage. Then he fell like this."

"Hannibal, you killed Dr. Whiskers," Will declared after poking the poor thing, "For the ninth time."

"Maybe we should tell Maeve this time. The store will run out of identical hamsters. And to be honest, I'm tired of them," Hannibal said as he placed the box on the table.

"Two things," Will said, "First, she would be destroyed and second, did you sneeze on purpose next to him? Dr. Whiskers the 8th died because you dropped a spoon next to his cage. And we know what happened to Dr. Whiskers the 4th, don't we?"

"How long will you keep reminding me of the fact that I vacuumed the hamster?"

"Respect his title, will you?"

"No, I will not, he doesn't have a Ph.D., Will, I do. He is a ball of fur who lacks consciousness. He has zero awarness. All nine of them."

"Okay," Will said and sighed, "Tell Maeve the same thing. Look your 7 year old daughter in those big doe eyes and tell her what you told me."

"We can say he escaped outside."

"So we can watch her look for him every day from now on. Smart, doctor Ph.D."

"Where are my car keys? We are getting another dust bunny. And don't interact with me today, or next time Dr. Whiskers will find its end down your throat."

"I wish you were joking," Will said as he handed Hannibal the keys and grabbed the cage on their way out.

[theothernads]

𓂃 ִֶָ𐀔 SUMMER: — WHEN THEY TAKE YOU TO THE BEACH — OT7 𐙚 ˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

─────────────────────────────────

✧₊⁺ SYNOPSIS: The things they would do if the sun was shining, and the only thing on the itenary was going to the beach

ִֶָ࣪☾.pairing: bf!Enha x f!reader ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

✧₊⁺ warnings: suggestive, kissing, innuendos, biting (?), teasing, skinship, swearing so MDNI

word count: 2k+ ₊˚⊹♡

DREAM LIBRARY: 𖤐⭒๋࣭⭑

ִֶָ࣪☾.[NOTES]: okay, can you believe this was in my drafts since last year?? me either. but, i finally finished it and i am so glad that i did. i lwk giggled whilst writing this. ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

────────────˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚────────────

LEE HEESEUNG ✧₊⁺

◇beach house, beers by the beach, and sleeping on the sand.

• Heeseung gets SO giggly. Like, he may be the oldest of Enha, but he was born to be the maknae.

• He's literally telling you what shirts to wear, and when you looked at the choices, they looked exactly the same.

"Babe, they're the same," you say. To which Heeseung gives an offended look before holding them 2 inches from your face as if it swayed your decision.

"They're not even the same colour."

"They are."

• Anyway, bro books a little room, beach house thing but it's so impulsive. He just was scrolling and came into the room and was like: "you wanna go to the beach?"

• And you would be like: "Yeah, sure."

• "Good because we're going tomorrow."

• "..."

• So if we skip to the beach day after the panic packing, Heeseung always makes sure to give you the lightest bags before checking into the room.

• And he's so glad it turns out nicer than the price

• I feel like he wouldn't even unpack, he would just wear his shorts and t-shirt with a cooler full of drinks before saying: "let's gaur 😎"

• You made sure to get his headphones instead of earphones, knowing he would definitely lose it.

• Anyways, he sets down the mat, sits with you and is silent only for a few minutes before he's giggling and kissing you all over.

• You have no idea where his burst of energy came from, but he's laying underneath the sun with you, lips planted at the corner of your lips, and it swelled your heart up to the point you were breathless when he was done.

• And then, he's back to being silly as he gets his phone and drags you to the water. You nearly trip, because he's tall as heck, and you can't keep up easily.

• Once in the water, he's taking the most gf pics of you for your Instagram, and you do the same. And right after you give his phone back, he smirks.

• He's defo the type to tackle you into the water.

"Babe."

"Yeah?" You asked whilst examining a shell you found. He didn't reply, and the next thing you know, you're gasping in alarm and screaming when he tugged you to the cool water by your waist.

You couldn't see until your head bobbed above the surface of the water and you rubbed your eyes.

Heeseung was giggling beside you, his pink hair drenched, a wide smile that broke your current glare. But the way his smile darted back at you made your nerves soften. And you weren't truly angry.

"Asshole."

• Anyway, Heeseung apologised but it was an excuse to see you drenched in your swimsuit. He kept that secret to himself though.

• Would defo take pictures underwater, making you take videos of him. And he would take one of you two together, and would attempt to take a video of you and him connecting lips in the salty water.

• But he ended up missing the whole shot because it was way too shaky and there were way too many bubbles lmao.

• Anyway, when you're back in the sand, you're sitting between his legs as he dries your hair with a towel, the sun hitting both you and him as it hits 5 pm.

• But the day isn't over yet- he grabs the cooler and takes out two beers with the softest smile ever filled with tenderness, his hair slicked back, brown eyes staring into yours as if you were the shoreline crashing into his thoughts.

• You and him drank the beer, sensing his sincere gaze on you. He would defo comment how he wants a 2nd one, and you would laugh and tease him about not getting drunk.

"I'm not carrying you if you pass out on the beach." You sigh and look at your boyfriend, who has almost finished eighty per cent of the drink.

"Babe, I'm not going to pass out."

• He's an awful liar because he did end up sleeping on the warm bed of sand.

• So you took the opportunity to buy a bucket and spade, and you dug around his figure.

• Soon enough, Heeseung went to itch his nose but found a gravity weighing his hand in place.

• Bro thought he was in sleep paralysis, but when he opened his eyes, he saw you giggling behind a blue spade, trying to conceal the cheeky grin. And he realised you trapped him underneath heap of sand.

"Really, babe?"

"That's what you get for thinking you would stay awake."

• But all in all, if he slept then, he would be plenty awake for the night (iykyk)

PARK JONGSEONG✧₊⁺

◇big summer hats, heart sunglasses and yapping sessions.

• Jay is the type to just plan.

• He loves planning in a way — but not loud planning, more like planning for what to do in that intimate time you and him have together for the summer. And what other way than...

• The beach!!

• Oh, when I said he's a planner — he is a planner. In fact, he planned it down to the type of specific sunscreen you wear. You didn't mind it because you were slightly incompetent in taking care of yourself sometimes.

• Jay would put you in charge of packing some clothes, bathing suits, and he would plan the food.

• Outside food? Nahhh

• It's Jay food this time. And he wraps them all in pretty foil, packs them in his aesthetic picnic basket.

• That he totally borrowed from you, and didn't order it for himself!!

• You added a bow on it to ease his denial <3

• Anyways the beach!! He picked the perfect day, perfect time.

• You couldn't be more happier! And oh — Jay loved you in your bathing attire, but...

• SUNSCREEN!!! He would pull you back and make sure to put it everywhere.

• When you grumbled about how you didn't need sunscreen that much, he would huff and press soft kisses to your back, shoulders, nape, stomach, and suddenly, you liked applying sunscreen!!.

• And since you were in charge of outfits...

"Jongie!! I got us hats, matching ones!" You exclaimed, digging into the back of the car.

Jay didn't mind it—not until you pulled out some kind of huge, straw-like hats the size of a supreme large pizza. He gaped.

"Babe?"

You just shoved it on his head, and you were both matching, and of course, you took a picture. He was confused in the scene, but you knew he secretly loved it because he didn't take it off. A win is a win.

• Once settled, he doesn't go in the water just yet, but you and him definitely have a sandcastle competition of who can make the most royal castle ever.

• You tried so hard for yours. And he pulled out his own skills, making it smooth, his lips jutted out in small pout of concentration, black hair falling easily over his eyes.

• You found it thoroughly adorable, but, even then, you kept working.

• He won. Like damn. It was insulting. You spent so long doing your one, but he made about 4 castles, perfect shapes, seashells that he popped out of the sand.

• This time, you pouted.

• Jay, being the complete softie, gave a chaste kiss and awarded you the sandcastle Queen. 🤭

"You just made me win because you're smitten," you sighed, crossing your arms as you stared at your lone castle with an empty moat.

Jay chuckled, pulling you into his arms from behind, tucking your head under his chin.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"..."

"No," you mumbled with a hidden smile.

• For the water, he would let you dip yours and his feet in, walking up to the shore until knee deep.

• I don't feel like he wouldn't push you in aggressively, but he would definitely bridal carry you in.

• Even if you said no.

• He would giggle and set you in before joining you, hugging you in the water.

• You would be lying if you said it didn't make you heat up and hide your face into his neck.

• After that, a picnic was needed. So were his glasses.

"Jongie, we're under the umbrella, why are you wearing sunglasses?" You asked, unpacking the picnic with him.

The sound of foil crinkled in the air, and Jay hummed, as if pondering.

"Baby, it's tradition, a canon event—"

"Or, you're old," you interjected, making Jay scoff.

Next thing you knew, he snatched away your sandwich and bit into it.

You, in equal retaliation, tackled him to the ground.

• The food was so delicious. You wanted to eat everything (including him) WHO SAID THAT??

• But, real tradition was having ice cream, so, whilst you and him waited in line, he began expressing his deep love for his all time loved songs.

• Bon Jovi, but how he desired to replicate it with his guitar. Jane, as he called her.

"Jongie, do you have to name your guitars like they're your children?"

"Absolutely. And technically, they're your children as well," he said, so serious that it made you laugh.

"I never realised I embraced motherhood so early." You nudged his side. He, in response, wrapped an arm around your waist, facing you with an easy, but sincere smirk.

"No wonder why you're glowing."

What a flirt.

• Regardless, the day was spent with you and him talking.

• Talking all the way until the sunset appeared and made his skin glow more honey than ever.

• What a perfect way to end the day.

"Jongie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I eat you?"

Jay gave a bewildered chuckle before jokingly offering an arm to you. He didn't expect you to actually bite into his bicep though.

"Wait, why did I like that?"

"Jay!"

SIM JAEYUN✧₊⁺

☾. Sandcastles, ice creams, cannon balls, sweet kisses all around

• Sim Jaeyun. Was. Absolutely. Hyper.

• Summer was here? The first ray of sunshine? He was up and damn ready to get to the beach.

• It was a little spontaneous, but you didn't mind it.

• But, he was enthusiastic. Tomorrow, 9 am get up, 11 am LEAVE ON THE DAMN DOT.

• You thought he was joking. But then...

The blanket was cocooning you into the bed, but did Jake particularly care? Not really.

In an instant, he came to the side of the bed, and YANKED the blanket so hard, you woke up.

Groaning, you tucked your head under your pillow. "Jake, what's the deal?"

"The deal was the beach! It's 9.02 am, and you're not awake," he said, hands on hips, and you could hear the sulk woven in his voice.

"What time did you even wake up?" You mumbled. And he scoffed.

"Literally 9.00. On the dot," he said, making you glance up. He was in his robe, as if he showered, with damp hair. You raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you dressed? Did you not brush your teeth?"

"Multi-tasked," he answered simply. And, you think he brushed his teeth in the shower as well.

• Once you did get up for the beach, he blasted some songs, literally jumping in his drivers seat.

• You were convinced he would stop at the side of the highway when a certain part came. He didn't.

• Yet.

• Anyway. The beach was slightly busy, but Jake was so passionate, carrying all the bags for about 10 minutes until the perfect spot appeared.

• You're glad he didn't make you carry much. You're still his pretty princess after all 😞🩷

• When you did find the spot, he literally dropped everything and swam to the ocean.

• You couldn't stop him. Because he literally jumped into the water, clothes on and all.

• You gaped, but you couldn't restrain him. Not when he bobbed his head up the water and grinned like he had experienced something he yearned for.

• After setting up the picnic place yourself with a blanket, he got out, literally shook his head like a dog.

• And then, sandcastle wars!!

• You were determined. If his passion was getting up on time, yours was getting a perfect land for your castle.

• Except, yours looked so pretty with the shells, sticks, seaweed.

• And his?

• Looked like a sad excuse of a hut💔.

• So, he broke yours.

As you happily patted about the sandcastle's exterior, you felt a presence behind you, like a shadow. With a slow turn, you met his gaze.

"Yes..?"

"Let me help you," he said with a smile that was too sweet to be true. Even then, his smile broke your defences, and you nodded.

Biggest mistake.

As soon as he got the spade to pat with you, he just happened to pat too hard, causing a few thousand cracks to appear.

And then, it absolutely broke. Along with your seashells. And sticks. And seaweed. Your shoulders slumped, a tide of desolation washing over you within a second.

"Jake..." you whined, hitting his shoulder so hard he fell back into the sad, laughing.

But with your genuine pout and dejected gaze, how could he just laugh.

With a tender hug, he engulfed you from the side, pressing kisses to your cheeks, jaw, neck until you let a smile curl at your lips.

"There's my girl... I'm sorry," he said, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

• Now, was pictures. Whilst you rebuilt your sandcastle, he took about a thousand too many pictures.

• You told him to stop. But he shook his head, saying you looked way too adorable and amazing.

• You think it was an excuse to just pics of you in a bathing suit. He could just say it.

• It's not like he's full of shame 🤡🥀

• For the rest of the afternoon, you and him took selfies with filters, silly ones and cute ones.

• And the best ones were when you saw his grin light up your damn phone. As if his smile was the treasure locked inside your phone only for you to see.

• And, of course, ice cream!!

• You had a classic vanilla cone whilst he had an ice lolly. It was so refreshing, especially after that very unfair sandcastle war.

• Though, you caught him staring, calculating something before he shyly smiled.

"What?" You asked with a huff of laughter. Jake shook his head, lips wrapped around the lolly. But you knew he was scheming inside that gorgeous brain of his.

"You can just say it, you know?" You said again, making him turn.

His brown eyes glinted, sparking before he held the lolly away from his mouth, and advanced to you with deliberate slowness and a sly grin. Butterflies tickled your belly, but you pursed your lips and didn't move.

"Don't move, okay?" He demanded softly. You nodded, and he took the chance to lean in, so close. When he was a breath away, he connected his lips to yours, and you couldn't help but deepen it.

Jake was swift, but thorough, and you felt the tip of his tongue swipe the corner of your lips. You flinched. And he just giggled.

"You had ice cream on your face."

"You couldn't be normal about it?"

"No."

You rolled your eyes but saw him cringe all of a sudden, as if he tasted something else. When he turned to you, it was in horror.

"I think I ate sand."

PARK SUNGHOON✧₊⁺

☾. Comfortable, mutual, sunbathing, sunglasses.

• When the beach idea was proposed, it was when you saw a tiktok.

• Whilst in bed, you turned to Sunghoon, who was on his own phone, and asked him: "beach plan this week?"

• And, without sparing a glance, he pursed his lips. "Yeah. Sure."

• And that was it. Tbh, that is how it always is. Sunghoon is very blunt about it, but his cutesy couple side comes out later.

• You know? When he's wrapped around you like a cocoon in bed? Legs and arms thrown over you like you're the sausage pillow. 🤨

• And he had that pouty lips, hair falling over his face.

• You don't mind it.

• Anyway. Planning was quite swift and neat. Bet, he already had a beach bag with designated spaces for sunscreen, sunglasses, towels and a separate one for drinks and food.

• He insists on packing your bag as well. Separate bags, neat, organised.

• You packed the snacks, though, and even then, he came and packed it all in for you.

"Hoonie, I can do it myself," you protested as he gently steered you to the stool, and took over. When you said that, he put a finger to your lips, and you raised both eyebrows in stunned shock.

"Baby, just let me do this, yeah?"

Ugh, he used that soft tone that always hypnotised you, and made you listen to him. You immediately let him, and well, who could resist a soft-spoken Sunghoon?

Absolutely no one.

• And off you went.

• The car wasn't completely silent. He listened, you talked. You talked, he listened.

• Music played and he sang his lungs out like an eighty year old man recalling the first moment he heard said song.

• You recorded him. Don't tell him. It's blackmail material, duh.

• And, at the beach, he let you find the spot and agreed, followed like the lovesick fool he was.

• He helped you set the blanket, umbrellas, and stood behind you as you crouched in your swimsuit.

• As much as he admired every inch of your skin, he didn't want other people to stare.

• How rude of those people 😞💥

• So, he was your shield as you fixed the umbrellas and towels. What a man!!

• The water was something you and him left last. For now, you and him laid down, you on his bicep and he purposely flexed them.

• You smiled, and closed your eyes, feeling nothing but the murmured conversations, the sun beaming on yours and his skin, and his hand idly playing with your hair.

"Hoonie?".

He hummed in gentle acknowledgement. You snuggled closer to his side, making him smile silently.

"I'm glad we came," you said over the crashes of the waves on the shores. Sunghoon felt himself melt into the ground.

"I'm glad you're here," he mumbled. You peeked an eye open at the warm words, blaming the tingles from the sun.

"Me, too."

"Nah, I said it first. I win," he interjected, totally breaking the sentimental moment. You scoffed, shoving him in the side softly.

"It's not a competition." You huffed with slight laughter.

"Don't care. I made the rules. And my rules say that I love you more than you could ever love me." He closed his eyes, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

You can't believe he oh so casually admitted the love he held for you. Or that he thinks that you didn't have the same amount of colossal love for him. Honestly, if you could measure your own devotion in the form of the ocean, it would dry up instantly.

"Love you more." You tried again, seeing his smirk.

"Nope. Denied."

• After that, the water was so perfect.

• He tentatively got in after you waded through quite a good distance, until the water swallowed your torso.

• Worried as always, Sunghoon grew protective and literally came to your unneeded rescue.

• He literally hooked hands around your waist, and you giggled.

• Until you looked at him. His skin sparkling with droplets, adorning him as if the ocean had personally given him jewellery to accentuate his features.

• Blushing under your gaze, Sunghoon simply looked away, slightly timid.

"What?" He asked lowly. You saw the shyness bubbling inside his eyes.

"Don't you think you're just... amazing? How could I not stare at you, Hoon?" You exclaimed, hands around his nape as if you were explaining a crisis to him.

"Baby, it's not that deep," he reassured with an amused smirk. You shook your head as if he didn't understand. Which, he didn't. He didn't understand how you could just eat him up, and then preserve him inside your lungs and flowing cells.

"You're so handsome, it's annoying."

"You don't find it annoying when we're in bed though—"

"Sunghoon!" You covered his mouth with your hand, eyes wide whilst he chuckled.

• After the water, he dried you off before he did so himself. He dried your hair, arms, legs.

• Well, he couldn't resist the affectionate pat to your thigh.

• How could you blame him?

• You found him so handsome, but he found you absolutely... delectable.

• Vampire fr. 💪🏼👹

• Did you know how much he had to resist from biting your thighs? Nope.

• So, when you yelped and hugged your knees with another stunned silence, he just shrugged, as if so normal

• And he gave no explanation to that.

• And you just accepted it.

"What was that for? I'm not a boxing pillow thing—"

He began laughing at your description. "You're cute, baby."

Soft-spoken Sunghoon came out, and you just let him, letting him consume your heart whole.

KIM SUNOO✧₊⁺

☾. Sunsets, gossip, playful swims, strolls through the beach.

• Now, Sunoo is honestly the type to want to plan this day for weeks or smth. He checks the forecast every day.

• You think it's helpful, and you know his intuition is correct

• He is the sunshine himself.

• So, when he suggested the date, it was about 2 weeks away AND you would be staying at a nearby Ar BnB.

• And Sunoo wanted some food, he wanted sweets, he wants MEMORIES. And he will make them.

• No doubt 💥‼️‼️

• He picks a specific beach, definitely from a tiktok, definitely a place where pictures could be taken, and somewhere chill af.

• Heck, even the Air BnB was so minimalistic but perfect for just the two of you to hide away and cherish each other with nothing by the waves crashing in the distance.

• So, the beach in question was nearly empty. When you asked him how tf he found it, he just smiled and steered you to the beach.

• He helped you set up the picnic, but if your hair got messy, he would pull hair clips outta nowhere.

"Where did you get these?" You asked as he slipped the clips in to hold your hair away from attacking your own face. He just giggled with that beaming smile of his.

"Magic. I just have it as inventory," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. You shook your head with a small smile.

Except, you saw the black pearly clip he used and raised an eyebrow.

"Those are mine, aren't they?"

"Yeah."

"And you told me you i must have misplaced them?"

"... Yeah..?"

• Now, the whole day started with water.

• The logic?

• Tire yourselves out and then be rewarded with food, with something sweet — ice creams, sundaes, whatever.

• The water... was a moment 😃

• He got one of those ridiculous ass toy guns and kept hitting you with the water.

• So you, in return, got under the water and pulled him down.

• Cue dolphin ahh scream 🐬

• No, but after drying up, Sunoo would cherish you wholeheartedly.

• Drying your hair, heck, offering privacy by holding the towel and hinting compliments whilst you quickly dried off and changed.

• Obviously, you would swat his arm, but he said sorry.

• But he didn't mean it LMAO💀

• And pictures? Don't get him started. He thought it would be funny to put a time-lapse of you and him eating.

• It was nothing aesthetic unless you want to count the amount of times you and him stopped talking just to eat.😭

• Sandcastles and faces in the sand were a MUST. Smiley, angry, love heart faces were printed into the sand, showing the stamp of your love for each other.

• The real night began when people left at sunset.

• But you and him?

• That was the star moment.

• Up on the cliffs, where the barricades were, you and Sunoo stayed with the blanket, talking.

• Talking about literally everything!

• How you love the beach, or the ice cream flavour, or even that you were grateful to even be out.

• He would not interrupt even once.

"And then — hey, are you listening?" You asked, suddenly aware he was just staring at you as he hugged his knees. Sunoo, smitten as heck, simply nodded with that soft smile, the type of smile where it made you rethink why you hadn't met him earlier.

"Why aren't you... commenting? Did I break you?" You inquired again with a grin, staring into his amber eyes.

"You could never break me, my love," he said with a shake of the head. "I mean, sometimes you do when you try and spoon me in bed—"

"Shh! We don't need to talk about that!" You said, laughing as you cupped his mouth, utterly close to him. He connected his hands with your waist and leaned into your chest, listening to the rhythmic heartbeats.

"I don't mind it," he commented from under your hand, even placing a kiss to your palm. A tingle hit your chest, and you bit your lips from smiling too hard.

• Along with gossip sessions, he loved taking photos of the moon!

• The moon was well in the sky and he couldn't miss the opportunity.

• And well, when he was in the pose to take a picture, the breeze swept over him as if knew he was a Prince.

• You were enamoured. Whilst distracted, you got your own phone, snapping a picture of him.

• In your photo, the sun was taking a photo of the moon.

YANG JUNGWON✧₊⁺

☾.Teasing, sandcastles, writing messages in the sand, night walks...

• Jungwon was... excited.

• Ever since you planned it, he kept singing it randomly

• You know, adding his own lyrics to random tunes, voice cracks, and passionate.

• You didn't question it.

• Heck, planning to find the space to stay for a day or so was hard.

• He kept scrolling, adding to wishlist, scrolling, adding to wishlist. You were there for 2 hours and ended up with 50 rooms to choose from😮‍💨.

"Jungwon, shut up for, like, a minute—"

"Nah, look at this! There's a pool! We could—"

"Then, what's the point of the beach!?" You exclaimed with a huff of laughter. Jungwon gave a sour look, hooking a hand over your stomach and pulling you close with the laptop in hand.

"It's the vibe," he replied, kissing your neck. You giggled and shook your head.

"Look, how about we get a room with a room, TV, kitchen and a view?"

Silence.

And then: "yeah, sounds good."

• On the day, he was helping you out, buckling you in, putting the beach bags in the back.

• Off you went.

• As soon as you got into the room, you and him dashed with all the essentials.

• You and him applied sunscreen to each other, and he lowkey was smirking as you applied some to his neck.

• You just gave a 🤨⁉️.

• And he shrugged, applying sunscreen to the side of your legs since you were knelt between his legs. "Nothing..."

• Okay. Well.

• The scheming came to light when you were in the water, getting the doughnut floaty and all ready.

• Unbeknownst to you, one second you were standing on your two feet, and the next?

• You felt his hand coil around his ankle and pull you in. And you shrieked.

• When you bobbed your head above the water, you splashed him so hard, he had a mouthful of saltwater.

• And he did not mind. Lmao😭

• He even thanked you.

• Freak.

• It turned into a splashing competition, and then a hugging competition (?) where after he blinded you with water, he hugged you, spun you around in the water and dove both of you in again.

• Now, both of you were full of saltwater 🩷

• Once those shenanigans were done, you and him made sandcastles.

• Having only one bucket and spade, he didn't have the heart to compete, so together, you made one.

• And you got water, seashells, and a stick.

• You stuck on the decor, and he would obviously video your utter concentration, finding it adorably ridiculous.

• Says him.

• Because right after, he was drawing a love heart around said sandcastles, making sure the point was symmetrical.

• Talk about adorably ridiculous and being a SIMP😹.

"The love heart looks good, Won," you said, coming up behind him hunched over the ground.

He didn't reply, but kept focusing on the area under the heart, fingers meticulously carving in some words. Curious, you looked over his shoulder and melted.

"JW+Y/n's abode".

When he saw your pouty lips and endeared gaze, he just held you close.

"We'll get a home one day. As big as this with no neighbours," he said into your shoulder. You raised an eyebrow and met his eyes over yourself.

"No neighbours—?"

"So you want people hearing us—?"

You cupped his mouth and glared, but he started laughing as if he didn't hit you with embarrassment.

• Oh, the real moment begins as soon as the moon is high, and the people were gone.

• At around 9 am, he is handing you an ice cream, and debriefing with you.

• Oh gosh, he could hear you yap for hours. And he would be so attentive that he noticed the ice cream about to melt.

• So, he would guide it to your lips. You thanked him before graciously continuing your yap session.

• Oh, both of you yap so hard. He's having his ice cream, vanilla, classic.

• And he'll say random stuff like: "if vanilla was a vegetable or fruit, I feel like it would be a fruit that grows from trees."

• And you would pat his head like "okay <3".

• Those beach walks are the damn best.

The beach was dark, the sea crashing as always. And Jungwon came back after throwing away the ice creams. And he hooked his hands around your waist, pulling you in.

"You wanna taste my ice cream?"

"How? You just threw it away?" You asked, laughing again from his randomness. Jungwon shrugged, pulling you flush against him.

"Like this," he said lowly before kissing you with a perfect fit, deep and moving. You clutched his arms, and he groaned.

When he pulled back, his eyes were dazed, blonde hair fluffy in the breeze. You shakily breathed.

"Jungwon?"

"Yeah, lovey?"

"I didn't taste the ice cream," you admitted, looking at those warm eyes of his. He scoffed and pecked your nose.

"You wanna go again?"

"Oh yeah, for sure."

NISHIMURA RIKI✧₊⁺

☾. Floaties, frisbee games, salty kisses, boyfie pics.

• Lowkey, he wanted to go to the beach, but now he's the one that doesn't even get up.

• You stormed into the room, wearing your pretty summer outfit over your swimsuit, and now — this bear of a boy is snoring away🥀.

• So, there is only one thing to do.

• Jump him.

• He literally jolted awake and yelled so loud in that deep voice of his.

• But you didn't get off. You stayed on until he was repeatedly hitting the mattress.

• You win.

• To avoid getting jumped in the first place, he got up with those duck ahh lips pouting at you🐥.

• But he saw your impatient glare and he got up

• He can't be bothering his Queen, you know?

• So, since you packed the last bits, he carried it into the car and all.

• And the car ride?

• It was blasting music. And you had to admit, your goof of a boyfriend had impeccable taste 😫.

• The drivers definitely looked at the car and judged. Or admired.

• Anyway, getting to the beach, he was RACING you. As if it was a competition.

• It totally wasn't.

• Well, until you found the spot and got there faster since you carried less things.

• He just stuck a tongue out at you.

"Cheat," he yelled to you as you laughed at the chosen spot.

"You were the one that didn't want me carrying them," you reminded him, to which he didn't have an argument back.

"Touché."

Next time, he would remind himself to make you carry at least one bag. He totally will remember.

No, he won't. He's too smitten.

• Okay, so, setting up, he found the frisbee and without even saying anything, both you and him got into position.

• It was fun for the most part. You tried to catch him out by throwing the object down low. He would do a dramatic football dive whilst you just laughed at his face.

• But.

• With his tall ass height, whenever he threw it, the frisbee would fly way overhead.

• It wouldn't be a problem.

• Well, it wasn't until it hit a man into the back of the head.

• You ducked so fast out of view that it left a flustered Riki to tend to himself. And apologise to said man.

• No more frisbee games😮‍💨.

• Water it is!

• Riki, being impulsive, literally bought those thick floatie thing where you could sit on it.

• So, he wanted to 'graciously' put you on it first.

• But that mischievous glint didn't go unnoticed.

• Unfortunately, it was too late. He flipped over the floatie and, in turn, you as well. You yelped as the water engulfed you.

• Once you rubbed your eyes and hair away, you literally began to chase him.

• Curse him and his long legs and giggles. Despite having salt in your eyes and mouth, you couldn't help but smile.

• His laughter brought a flutter right down to your chest. And his blonde hair would be sticking out all over the place like a messy toddler.

• But, seeing you all far away, he decided he would go to you.

• And then, he would hug you from behind, swinging you about and man, you felt so warm with his arms around you.

• Safe. Secure.

"What if I cannon ball both of us right now, like, in a second?" He said as he tightened his grip, breath hitting your right ear. You scoffed.

"I would drown you," you replied with feigned hostility. Riki whistled.

"Wait, that's kinda hot—"

"Riki, what the fu—"

Too late. He took that personally and swung both of you into the water, but all that time you tried to resurface, he made sure to keep those safe hands of his around your waist.

Once your head bobbed above the cool water, he knew you were about to scold and whine at him, so he did what any whipped boyfriend would do.

He shut you up with a kiss. Which worked because he physically felt your muscles loosen, your breath hitch, and your hands to lock around his nape.

It was salty but everything about it was sweet. Ironically.

When he pulled away, you smiled as if you had rebooted your whole system. He adored that look.

"Riki?"

"Yeah?"

"Our floatie is floating away."

"WHAT?!"

• He swam all the way to get it back. This time, he made you sit on it, promising not to flip you over.

• Promise kept. For once.

• After that, ice cream and food galore. He shared his food with you even though you had your own ice cream.

• It was a thing — sharing with each other.

• He would give you his and then stare at you, as if he was seeing you for the first time again.

• You just gave a look of bewilderment before giving back his ice cream. And he would literally eat from the same place you did.

• What a freak. And flirt.

• But how can you resist. You literally had to get your phone to capture scrumptious photos of him.

• Honey skin, damp hair pushed back, those sharp eyes of his glittering as he stared out at the horizon.

• Perfect.

• He was your boyfriend? Wtf 😫 how??

• It's funny you thought that because he was thinking the same thing.

• "My girlfriend?? No way??🫠⁉️"

"Riki?" You said as you and him laid on the blanket, head on his bicep. He hummed in response, his deep fluttering through your chest again.

"It was fun today," you said softly. And he literally had to resist the urge to squeeze your cute ass head. Instead, he just rolled so he could wrap his other hand around your waist too.

"I'm glad. I had fun, too. I always do with you."

"Aw, is Mr. Nishimura getting soft right now?" You teased, kissing his chin. He scrunched his face up, as if it pained him to hear that.

"No way. Just uh..." He mumbled again, making you giggled.

"Just what?"

"Just shut up." He threatened gently. You shrugged.

"Or what? What you gonna do—"

And he kissed you again to shut you up. Totally worked.

Your brain rebooted and you forgot what you were about to say. Riki smirked and pulled back as you just huffed.

"You're annoying, I hate you."

"I love you, too."

"WAIT, YOU JUST SAID—"

"Don't ruin the moment!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

ִֶָ࣪☾.[NOTES]: thank you sm for reading this far <3 pls let me know if you guys found it funny and accurate!! Thanks for reading!

REBLOGS+ LIKES, COMMENTS are appreciated

[5trrr]

☀️Bob Reynolds One Shot☀️

“like a creep”

masterlist

summary: Stopping at a motel while on a mission turns into the team separating into partners and sharing rooms. You and Bob get paired up only to find your assigned room only has one bed…

warning: dry humping, bob and y/n are creeps for each other

word count: 3414

"I'm glad I got stuck with you." You spoke, arm nudging Bob's as you headed toward your assigned room. "Could you imagine me in a room with John? For a full eight hours? No way to escape?" You shivered at the thought and Bob couldn't help but smile. "I'd kill him. Myself, if I had to."

Bob had his usual boyish grin on his face as you walked, eyes switching between you and the carpet you followed. Well...the smile was usual to you.

You two had clicked as soon as he joined the team. You were the second newest after him and you felt it was only right for you to help him. You had been in his place only a year earlier. Now, you were close. Friends. You were the only one other than Yelena that he felt truly comfortable around. Safe enough to not glance over his shoulder when you were behind him or jump when your hand brushed his arm. He felt natural around you. Like himself.

Bob let you pass him as you neared the assigned room. You pressed the key into the hole. "Hopefully not." He whispered. He followed behind you, holding the door open over your head as you skipped in.

You froze in front of him and he barely stopped himself from walking right into you. He cleared his throat as he backed away, eyes following yours to the bed. Bed. Singular. Not plural, like the sweet lady at the desk had promised they had.

Your eyes instead moved to a small couch by the adjacent wall. Bob seemed to notice it too. You turned slightly to see where he was looking, a groan leaving you as his eyes switched between the couch and you. You glared playfully. A warning. A promise that you would be the one ending up on the couch. His smile didn't falter. He knew what you were thinking.

You ran for it first, throwing your bag so it landed on the couch. Bob's hands each grabbed one of your arms, holding them to your side as he lifted you. You kicked in his hold but he ignored it, dropping and pushing you onto the bed.

"Cheater." You growled, face down on the mattress, as your bag was thrown and landed beside you. You pushed yourself up and slid to the edge of the bed. "I'm not sleeping comfortably in this bed and making you sleep on...that." The couch had a small hole on nearly every corner of the cushions, questionable stains, and stuffing coming from the top of it.

Bob's grin still had his lips spread wide as he settled down on the couch. He looked so big on it, his knees higher than his hips when he sat normally. It looked like it would barely be long enough for a child. "Oh, but you want to sleep on it?" He shook his head. "You're not making me do anything."

"Bob." Your voice was firm when he looked away, busying himself by digging through his bag. "You're not sleeping there. You can't even lay down." He ignored you, or at least tried to. You could still see the crease of his eyes as he fought back his laugh. "Just-" You spluttered. "You can..." He slowly sat up, waiting patiently for you to finish. "We can share the bed." You finally whispered.

Bob perked up at your suggestion. His eyes ran over your face. Trying to see if you were kidding or not. You weren't. You looked so sincere and genuine as you held his eyes. "Are you sure?" He asked quietly.

"Yeah, of course." You nodded. You seemed unbothered by the thought of sharing a bed. Your voice was so even and calm. He didn't know how. He could feel warmth on his skin from just thinking about it. "It's not like we haven't slept in the same room before." You shrugged. It was true. You had woken up many times to him on the floor beside your bed, curled up with nothing but his clothes to keep warm. All he ever told you was nightmares. "It won't be that much different. You'll just be closer."

Bob swallowed thickly as his head bobbed up and down. You giggled as he grabbed his bag and set it on the other side of the bed. "See?" You hummed. "Was that so hard?" He grumbled faintly, trying to act like he didn't like the idea of sleeping next to you.

You stood to give him more space. "Do you wanna shower or am I okay to go?" You asked. He swallowed thickly as you stared up at him. Your eyebrow raised at his silence and his head shook quickly.

"I'll wait til the morning." He spoke quickly as you tucked bottles from your bag under your arm. You nodded and slipped away toward the bathroom, unaware of the way he followed with his eyes.

Bob groaned as soon you disappeared behind the door and the sound of the water hitting the ground filled the room. He flopped down, landing on the bed with a huff. He could run while he was able to. He thought about it. Opening the window and jumping, running, sleeping on the side of the building or the roof until morning. Save himself the embarrassment of sleeping beside you. He knew it wouldn't end well. He either wouldn't be able to sleep, too distracted by how close you were, or think himself to sleep and wake up more tired than he already was.

The smell of berries filled the motel room. He took a deep breath, holding it in. It somehow masked the scent of old cigarettes and the musky smell all motels seemed to have. He curled around the pillow you had tossed to him. He always wondered what the smell of your room was. Every couple of nights when he ended up in there after a nightmare, the smell of your room always calmed him. You always smelled sweet, like a warm pie. It surrounded you and he couldn't think of another scent that would fit you more. The smell of it calmed his racing heart, his head burrowing into the pillow as his eyes shut.

It was so late, nearly midnight already, but he wasn't tired. All he could think of was you. His mind raced with all of the times he had woken in your room. When it first started, you would find him curled outside of your door in the morning. He was too scared to knock and disturb your sleep, but you were the only one he felt comfortable enough to come to. He felt like a child, but staying alone with only his mind in those nights after a nightmare was torture. After the first couple of nights, you began leaving your door unlocked. His visits grew more frequent. You'd wake with him sleeping on the cold floor beside your bed nearly every night. He would wake later with a blanket over his body and a pillow under his head.

"Bob?" Your voice was breathy as you whispered his name into the room. "Are you awake?" Your words snapped him from his haze of your smell and...well, you. He stood and you sighed a breath of relief. "Oh, thank god." You laughed nervously. "I forgot my bag. Would you mind bringing it to me, please?"

Bob was on his feet in an instant, your bag held delicately in his hand as if it were an ancient artifact. His eyes found you as he neared. You were behind the door but your shoulders and head peeked around just enough to watch for him. He watched back. Your skin was wet and warm and glistening in the bathroom light. He tried to keep himself from staring but it was nearly impossible. You just looked too good. His eyes found yours again, already smiling at him, and he blushed. Had you noticed him staring? He prayed you hadn't as he handed your bag over.

"Thank you, sweets."

The door shut before he could say you're welcome, or nod, or even comprehend what you said. Sweets. It was a new one from you. You had called him many names in the past, but none of them felt as good as that. It set something right in his mind. He shuddered as his words repeated in his mind. He didn't know how long he had stood there, taking in your words and the rush of berries that attacked him when you held the door open.

Bob jumped at the sound the door clicking unlocked. He threw himself to the side, barely settling on the bed before you came out. He lifted his head as if he had laid down after helping, as if he hadn't stood outside of the door like a creep. His eyes found you and he fought back a groan at the sight. You only wore sweatpants and a tank top but he swore it was the best you had ever looked.

The berry scent followed you, filling his nose as you crawled onto the bed. You settled quickly, your face flushed from the heat of the water. His face, however, was flushed from...everything. The way you looked. The way you smelled. The way your eyes scrunched at the corners whenever you looked at him. You called him sweets.

Fuck, he could feel heat flooding south. He turned onto his side facing away from you so you wouldn't see the tent beginning to form in his pants.

"Thank you again." You whispered as you brought the comforter up to just below your neck. "For getting my bag. You saved me." You giggled. He pulled the comforter over himself too before turning, his need hidden. "Imagine if I had to run out here and get it? Oh, god."

You laughed and laughed at the embarrassing idea, but he was imagining it. He had been since he joined the team and you sat next to him on the team's monthly movie night. You had smiled so warmly at him as you introduced yourself. You had that same smile every time you talked to him since.

"You're being quiet." You whispered sleepily. You were half asleep already, the warmth of the room slowly lulling you closer to sleep. "Is something wrong?"

"N-No." Bob settled up on his pillow so you were face to face, only inches apart. You were unbothered by this but he was sweating. "Just tired." He tried to reassure you.

You fought to keep your eyes open, worried about him even in the arms of unconsciousness. "Try to sleep." You whispered, your mind finally winning and your eyes closing.

Bob wanted to sleep. He wanted to so bad, but the sight of you so close and the feel of his hardening cock brushing his boxers was too much. His eyes ran over you. Your arms settled at your sides, the blanket lowering just the slightest bit. Your chest was only covered by your shirt now and he could see the evidence of your lack of bra. Your nipples poked against your shirt and all he wanted to do was take them between his fingers and into his mouth. He felt like such a creep, staring at you like this while you slept, but he couldn't help it. He shoved his head into the pillow to finally stop his wandering eyes, but his mind replaced them. Images of you flooded his mind and he groaned, shoving his head deeper into the pillow until he was finally able to force himself to sleep.

You awoke at some point in the early morning. Three am, you knew after glancing at the small bedside table. You swallowed thickly, your throat dry and mind fuzzy. Wondering what had woken you up, you moved to try and slide off the mattress. Something wrapped around your wrist to stop you.

Your eyes found Bob, who had scooted closer in his sleep. His hand was wrapped gently around your skin, only there to keep you from leaving. He was still asleep though, chest rising and falling slowly with each breath. You smiled at the sight. He looked so calm. Sweet and pretty as his eyes moved, eyelashes fluttering slightly.

You forgot about finding what woke you up, instead using your free hand to gently swipe his hair from his face. His brows furrowed at the touch and you pulled it back. You were worried you woke him too. Something under the comforter moved. Your eyes followed it, squinting. It was right where his...His hips rolled slowly into your clothed thigh. Was he...Your question was answered before you could even register it, his hips pressing against you again. You slowly pulled the comforter up enough to peek under it, fighting the urge to push your leg forward in time with his hips. His bulge pressed so close to you. You could feel the imprint of his cock with each push.

It felt wrong to stare like this, but you couldn't help it. His eyebrows pinched in the most frustrating way and his lips opened slightly, a whimper falling from them. You nipped your own lip at the sight. He was too pretty like this. You knew this was wrong. He was asleep. He trusted you and only you enough to fall asleep with and you were watching him like a creep.

You had to wake him up, despite the awkward conversation you knew was coming. "Bob." You whispered, a shaky hand reaching out to push at his shoulder. "Bob, wake up."

His hips bucked again and he whined before he finally seemed to wake. He nuzzled his head closer to the comfortable smell of berries. He could tell something was wrong when his nose hit something solid. His eyes finally opened. Your throat. He had his nose pressed flush to your throat, sniffing like a dog following a bone.

"Oh, god." Bob pulled back. His eyes were wide and fearful and worried and embarrassed. "I am so sorry." He whispered. His voice was exactly what you imagined it would sound like. So whiny and up an octave with the speed of his breathing. "I-I-I'm..." He looked like he was about to cry.

"Shh..." You shushed quietly. "It's okay." He sniffled and tears formed in the corners of his eyes. "No, no. Don't cry, sweets." Your words were rushed as you tried to help him, but they had the opposite effect.

Bob groaned as you called him sweets again. "F-Fuck." He panted, hips pushing forward again. "Don't call me that." He whined and all you could do was stare.

His bulge was still pressed against you. He could have scooted back, removed himself from your reach, and left to deal with himself. But he stayed pressed tightly against you. You hoped it was his head doing that and not the one on the tip of his cock.

"Please..." He whimpered and you swore it was the prettiest noise you'd ever heard. He wanted to stop his hips so bad and run far, far away, but the need building inside of him wouldn't allow it. "Please, don't hate me. I'm so sorry." The tears finally spilled down his cheeks. You pouted at the sight of your sweet boy so sad. Without thinking, you leaned forward and kissed them away. His hips bucked at each touch of your lips on his skin. "I'm such a creep. R-Rubbing on you like this. Waking you up. I-It's okay if you hate me after tonight. I understand."

You smiled. After saying all of that, humping your leg like a dog in heat, sniffing on you...You smiled so gently at him, like he was the most beautiful thing in the world. "I could never hate you. Especially not for this." You murmured as your thumb swiped under his eyes, wiping the remaining remnants of his tears away.

It took him a moment to register your words. "You..." He swallowed thickly. "You don't hate me?" His eyes glanced hopefully up at yours.

"I don't hate you." You nodded. "Quite the opposite actually."

You giggled and he could feel himself calming. His mind calmed, at least. His cock felt more excited than it had ever been. It almost hurt how bad he needed you. He pressed against you again. Slowly.

"W-Why?" He asked quietly.

You hummed with a smile. "Who wouldn't want a pretty boy humping their thigh?" Your voice was teasing and your leg moved with him.

His body jolted forward, a hand reaching down to hold onto your thigh. "Oh, f-fuck!"

"Shh..." You cooed, wiping away hair that had slipped onto his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes squeezed shut. "We don't want the others hearing." He nodded instantly with your words and his hips sped up against your leg. "What were you dreaming about?" Your hand reached under his chin and forced his eyes to meet yours.

Bob's mouth fell open in your hand. "You." The word slipped before he could stop, the pleasure in him growing and clouding his mind. He wanted you so bad. "I mean-"

Your lips interrupted his train of thought. They pressed against his like this was normal. Like, he hadn't just admitted to having a sex dream about you. "Sweet boy..." You murmured into his mouth and he melted against you. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that." Your tongue slipped into his mouth when he opened it to agree.

His other hand landed on your thigh, squeezing it in his hands as he forced it up. He rutted against you, hips stuttering. He was already so close, but he didn't want it to end. Not ever. He wanted to wake up every day to you. To please you. To be yours.

You watched him intently, a smile curling your lips. "Are you gonna cum?" You hummed against his skin as your lips trailed down to his jaw. "Gonna come in your pants, sweet boy?"

"Oh..." He panted. He nodded desperately. "Y-Yes. Yes." His head tilted back, a sigh leaving him at the feeling of your lips. His eyes slowly opened and met yours. His voice was meek when he finally spoke again. "I-If that's okay with you."

Your mouth fell open at his words. You groaned lowly and latched your lips onto his neck. "Come." You gasped when his hands tightened around your skin, moving against you so fast you could hardly keep up. "Fuck, sweets." His hips stuttered and you knew he was right there. He just needed one last push. "Now, pretty boy. Cum for me. I know you can do it."

Bob moaned loudly and he did as he was told. His hips stuttered and slowed until he stilled against you. He could feel the sticky mess inside of his boxers, a slick sound emitting from the blanket when his hips twitched.

The room went silent. You could see the gears clicking in his head as he finally had a moment to think. His head slowly rose from the pillow. His eyes glanced over you, your thigh still between his legs.

"I..." He began, but paused. He didn't know what to say. Sorry? I liked that? Thanks for letting me hump you? Worry and fear were loud behind his eyes. He finally decided. "I hope we can...still be friends?”

Your eyebrows raised at his question. You released his chin and he whimpered at the loss of your touch. "Are you friend zoning me after humping my thigh like a dog?"

"No, no, no." He sounded panicked now. Maybe he was...just a little bit. He shook his head frantically. "I just- I want to be more, but..." He swallowed thickly. "I wasn't sure if you did."

You shook your head. "You're too sweet." Your hand buried in his hair and pulled him closer. His lips pressed desperately to yours, his tongue darting out to poke and taste your lips. You tasted so good.

"So..." He mumbled against your lips. "Does this mean we're..."

"This means you're mine, sweets."

Meanwhile...

John was confused when he first entered his room. He had made sure to tell the receptionist he would only need a single bed, but there were two twin sized beds on the opposite wall...Oh, well.

[davrinsleftpectoral]

A Word with Friends: Davrin week edition 

*taps mic*

Hello! I’m your host for the week, DLP. I spent way too long looking at ridiculous words. I was angry at the English language for not having words for the specific thing I wanted. My sister @blackwall-my-tiny-husband said I annoyed her about it. I looked for a word for one afternoon and discussed it with her when she got home. But she ended up finding this one and I enjoy the way this one sounds when spoken out loud. I think it feels good in the mouth. Thank you @hedwigoprah for starting such a fun game and trusting me to pick a word this week lol.

Rules: Use the challenge word to write a sentence or scene and then tag a few friends. Happy writing! 

I included definitions from multiple sources. Anytime I see the word for the week, that is something I do, to really get a feel for the word, so I thought I’d share my research with the class.

This week's word is susurration 

Noun

the indistinct sound of people whispering

whispering, murmuring, or rustling. “The susurration of the river.”

In modern usage, we use the word to name a gentle sound characterised by a soft murmuring, persistent whispering, rustling, or even a barely audible buzzing.

I chose this word to be able to be paired with Davrin week, if you wanted. No pressure to use it that way of course, but Davrin is a pretty cool guy. Just saying.

Today’s Davrin prompts are 

Shepard/hunter, nature/nurture 

 

==

Davrin crested the hill ahead of Glandival and Cagan. They were coming along more slowly. At 10 and 4, their stamina naturally didn’t match his. He smiled at them fondly, thinking he should find a place for them to camp for the night. They’d been tracking the halla heard since shortly after sunrise and it was well into the afternoon. The children had kept true to their word, neither had complained about the journey. But he could see their fatigue showing.

Huffing and puffing they came to stand beside him. Cagan came in close and hugged his leg. Davrin reached down and patted his son’s pink haired little head affectionately. Glandival was looking out over the woods before them. She was a very observant child, even at just 10 years old. She wasn’t wild and restless like her mother. Instead, she sat back and took everything in, always watching and noticing things that even Davrin sometimes didn’t see. She did have her mother’s bright pink curly hair, something all their children had inherited, but that was just about the only trait they shared. 

Where Esha loved to explore the ruins and find artifacts, Glandival had no interest in them. She was drawn to the forest for entirely different reasons. Glandival was drawn to the animals. She shared a bond with Assan that was entirely different than his own. She also was exceptionally good with the halla, and loved learning how to track them and watch over them. Her natural shepherding instincts were something Davrin and Esha were happy to foster in her.

The susurration of the wind through the leaves was all he heard until Assan let out two cries. His signal that he’d spotted a herd. Davrin searched the skies again and spotted Assan in the air, circling an area not too far off. 

“I see Assan has found us a herd. I know you guys must be getting tired. Should we stop here for the evening? I’m sure we can catch up to them in the morning.” Davrin was curious what the pair would say.

“I can keep going,” Glandival said, lifting her chin, daring him to say she couldn’t. Davrin looked over to Cagan. He was younger, smaller than his sister. He wasn’t particularly interested in the halla, he just loved going with Davrin any chance he got, and had begged to come along. Cagan looked up at him with distress. Davrin could see that he was tired, but he didn’t want to say it. 

“Okay, if you say you can keep going, we will. Cagan, would you like to ride on my shoulders? That way you can help me spot the heard as we get close?” Davrin asked.

Cagan immediately perked up at the offer of a ride and the chance to be useful in their trek. Davrin lifted the boy up easily, and he squealed in delight at being up so high and close to Davrin. Davrin looked over at Glandival, smiling. He enjoyed the warmth blooming in his chest, something he seemed to feel near constantly when he was with his children. He had never expected to have them, but now with 4 and one more on the way, he was living a dream he didn’t know he’d wanted. 

“Let’s go see some halla.”

==

Tagging to start: @strugglinggranola @serensama @tkwritesdumbassassins @thedissonantverses @tacoteddy22 @thecraftybaroness @himluv @notyourmamasdeerbat @bubblecat-co @mythals-whore @operative-arrow @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @seaglassmelody @sidneysussex @biowaredisasterbisexual @woundedsoul12 @genjyoandgojyoandhakkai @jenn2d2 but anyone can jump in if they'd like! If you do it, tag me! I’d love to see what you do with this word.

@datvcompanionweeks thanks for a great prompt list!

And a bonus meme featuring my rook Esha and Davrin.

[allisluv]

Finnick Odair who considers everything with reader to be his first! Also they never had the chance to properly fairly and safely develop their relationship until probably d13/post rebellion and now he feels the rush and gets nervous and imagines things and whatnot. Do you think in the beginning he’d be confused on why his meticulously crafted Capitol Charmer persona suddenly doesn’t work anymore?

i yapped so bad and idk if any of it makes sense but we move! this is giving me ideas for finnick and shy!wifey ugh i miss them. also this is the first time i've wrote properly in like a month so please be nice or i'll cry (/hj) <3 // tw: mentions of finnick's trauma and slightly nsfw content? idk not really but i'll add it anyway

oh my heart is melting !! finnick is so nervous when he's around you; i am talking palms sweating, heart racing, mouth dry, stumbling over his words kind of nervous--- and that scares him. not that he's scared of you; he's just scared that the persona he's crafted so delicately, so carefully, over the years is beginning to crumble. and honestly? he's got no clue who he is, not after spending years mastering the act of being different people to suit the situation and the people around. he doesn't know how to be finnick. he just know how to survive, and that is by being the capitol darling, by being whoever you want him to be.

after the war, there's a hell of a lot of self-discovery (not only for the victors, but for people as a whole), and the first time finnick and you go out on a date-- a proper one, not a propo for the capitol or thirteen --, he's so nervous that he nearly ends up knocking over a candle and setting the only rebuilt restaurant in four up in flames. hes so nervous that the table shakes as his knee bobs under the table, and when you reach across to take his hand in yours, telling him to relax and just be himself, he doesn't know what to do with that advice.

...because he doesn't know who he is!

there would be a lot of conversations between you and finnick about finding your sense of self again, even when the relationship between the two of you progresses from something sweet and easy-going to something more serious and long-term. finnick would suggest having date nights where the two of you try something new each time in an effort to figure out what you really like and what you were told to like if that makes any sense at all.

and you are so right about finnick classing everything with you as his first! if anyone asks who his first kiss was, he'll answer you without a second of hesitation (because florence in primary school didn't count and the people from the capitol definitely didn't). you were the first person he made love to, the first person he had sex with (yes, there is a difference, especially to him), the first person he genuinely thought about a family and marriage with, and the first person he slept safely beside.

and, boy, does he intend for you to be the last, too.

[starlightafterastorm]

Ok i am SWAMPED right now but I've gotta share the concept of an angsty plot bunny with the kingdon fandom because The Pitt is invading my brain and distracting me from my other hyperfixation.

(I also have so many thoughts for a non-angsty very fluffy sweet plot bunny but this one is running around in my brain non-stop right now)

Have a very long outline after the cut

Concept:

Med School AU

Where "she fell first" Mel and "he doesn't know he fell until he realizes he's already fallen harder" Frank have a drunk one - night stand after Frank broke up with his girlfriend (Abby???). Next morning, Mel is in the kitchen making breakfast, Frank comes in and asks if Mel got him home safe because he doesn't remember kissing Mel and sleeping with her. He woke up in bed alone. He thought it was a dream.

EX GIRLFRIEND (ABBY???) SHOWS UP. Asks Frank to get back together. Mel excuses herself.

CLICHE PREGNANCY TROPE. TRAUMATIC MISCARRIAGE.

(Between med school and Becca and parental trauma Mel wouldn't have chosen to keep the baby anyway but it's still an incredibly emotionally and physically complicated time)

Yolanda in med school with them??? Yolanda is the one who drives Mel to the clinic and helps her with the aftercare??? The only one who knows the full truth??? Which partially fuels Yolanda's complicated feelings of "Langdon's a great doctor and kind of one of my closest friends but also I kind of resent him for this situation so I'm going to snipe at him any chance I get"

Angsty conversation where Frank is majorly concerned about Mel's health and finds out she's recovering from a miscarriage. He doesn't know the baby was his but he's mad cuz the guy Mel slept with should have been more careful with her and Mel tells him it's ok. She knew what she was getting into because he "only wanted her because he was drunk". It drives Frank crazy because who would ever treat Mel like that?

Mel/Frank drift apart. Because of Abby? Becca? Covid? Issues with money and Mel's mom's death and whatever's going on with her dad? combo of all of those things? Unclear right now.

SMASH CUT FLASH FORWARD.

Past The Pitt season 1 and Mel/Frank reunion.

Past rehab.

Past divorce.

Past rekindling the friendship and codependency and solid ground and Mel being adored by Frank and the Langdon kids.

Frank tells Mel that she's beautiful and he's so in love with her. Mel says "that's not possible. you've only ever found me attractive when you're drunk and you've been sober for over a year now"

“I love you.”

“…I don’t know how to believe you.”

And that hurts more than anything Abby or Robby has ever said about how much he’s disappointed them.

Cue Frank crying on his therapist's couch because Mel straight up refuses to believe him, Yolanda shaking her head and laying down the truth to Frank after all these years, Mel just like "I thought we settled this matter years ago? Why are you stirring up my hurt again??"

Mel knows what it's like to love Frank without being loved (knowing she's loved) in return. That's normal to her.

Poor baby compartmentalized all her feelings and she doesn't know what to do if that dynamic changes.

Meanwhile Santos is on the side with no idea of any of the history or context at all of what's going on with Frank and Mel and Yolanda somehow refereeing the two of them but she's ready to throw down at any time.

"Do you want me to castrate him for you?" the scalpel is already in her hand

"No thank you, Trinity. He just reminded me that i'm not the kind of woman who is meant to be loved or wanted in the typical way that a man wants a woman"

"... Did he fucking say that to you??? Where's Garcia??? She'll help me hide the body. Dana will too."

long aggrieved sigh from Mel. "No, Trinity."

This obviously ends up happily but I need the 50k angstfest of Frank rethinking every conversation he's ever had with Mel with the knowledge that she was in love with him and he was in love with her but he didn't know he was.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"Why would I disrupt our friendship? I'm clearly not your type and then you entered a serious relationship. My feelings were my burden to carry."

I could probably add more to this just sitting here right now but I needed to get this out.

The angstttttt

[jellofish-plant]

Another Day of Sunsets

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader Genre: Angst, Romance, Drama

Summary: You met Jason Todd in the chaos of Gotham, but your dreams of becoming a stage actress and his relentless fight to save the city pulled you together only to pull you apart. Inspired by the themes and tone of La La Land, this is a story of two people who loved each other deeply, but not enough to compromise the dreams they chased. Years later, in the soft glow of what-could-have-beens, your paths cross again older, wiser, and forever changed.

A/N: Before you continue reading please que "Mia & Sebastian's Theme" by: Justin Hurwitz while you read. Trust

[Masterlist]

Gotham was never kind to dreamers.

But that didn’t stop you from trying.

You arrived in the city with two duffel bags, a half-finished script, and a fire in your chest that refused to die out. Gotham was where you were going to make it. Not on the silver screen or some sun-drenched California stage, but in the city's tucked-away corners: underground theaters, rooftop poetry slams, basement jazz clubs where the lights were low and the audience held their breath with every word you delivered.

And then you met him.

Jason Todd crashed into your life like a thunderstorm uninvited, loud, and impossible to ignore. He was late to your first show, slipping into a seat in the back just as your monologue began. You noticed him right away: leather jacket, bruised jaw, eyes like bottled storms. When it ended, he clapped louder than anyone else.

You saw him again a week later, leaning against a lamppost outside the same theater.

“You were good,” he said, offering you a coffee he didn’t ask if you wanted. You took it anyway.

That was how it started.

You were chasing stardom; he was running from ghosts. In the quiet hours between auditions and patrols, you found a strange kind of peace. Jason would sneak into your apartment window at 2 AM with takeout and bloody knuckles. You’d read him your lines while he stitched himself up. He hated when you cried at auditions gone wrong, and you hated the way he flinched at loud noises.

Somewhere between the silence and the chaos, you fell in love.

But Gotham has a way of making lovers choose.

“Come with me,” he said once, on a rooftop overlooking the Narrows. “We can go. Anywhere you want. I’ll disappear. For you.”

Your throat closed up.

“And your mission?”

“Screw it.”

You looked at him, eyes burning.

“No. You wouldn’t be you without it.”

And you wouldn’t be you without the stage.

So you stayed. And he stayed.

And the days turned harder. The silences stretched longer. The I love yous began to feel like bandages on bullet wounds.

Until one night, he didn’t come back.

No call. No message.

Just absence.

You mourned him like a death. Cried until your voice cracked and you couldn’t audition anymore. But life didn’t stop. You kept acting. Kept breathing. Eventually, the grief folded itself into a quiet corner of your chest.

Years passed.

You made it.

Your name appeared in lights. Your face on magazine covers. You smiled on red carpets and talked about the art of performance, never about Gotham or the boy who kissed you on fire escapes.

Then one rainy night, back in the city for a charity event, you ducked into a quiet little jazz bar to escape the flashing cameras.

And there he was.

Jason.

Older. Still beautiful in that tragic, devastating way. He was playing piano something soft, something familiar. You didn’t think he played. But you knew the song. It was yours.

Your breath hitched.

He looked up.

Your eyes met.

No words.

Just recognition. And something else: gratitude. Forgiveness. Love, perhaps, in the way only past lovers understand.

He played the song until the final note faded into silence.

You stood.

Smiled.

And left.

Outside, Gotham rained gold in the streetlights. You hailed a cab. As you pulled away, you looked back once, just once, through the window.

Jason was still at the piano.

And you were still in love.

But some stories aren’t meant to have second acts.

Just beautiful first ones.

Fin.

Tag list:

@dreamzaremyrealityy @not-herexo  @a-brilliante-mariposa @fandomtrashsblog @roastyyytoastyyy @cliosunshine @thesunxxtodd @deadbeatphobos @mxxnechos

[madnesshyperfixation]

General C00lkidd Headcanons 

Now that we’ve done 007n7 we obviously must do C00lkidd next! Cause I got a lot while in the process of making 007n7’s headcanons.

Very short attention span, 007n7 had to do the key jingling a lot when he was little (Think of that one Markiplier video where he was jingling keys at u lol) 

In his real body he has tiny little nubs for horns, not even sharp yet just two little raised bumps. 

His tail has an upside-down heart/spade shape on the end. 

Speaking of his tail, his tail works on dog logic, meaning that if his tail is wagging, he’s a happy boi. 

Absolutely obsessed with the spooky scary skeleton song, 007n7 had to play it for him constantly some days. 

Halloween is C00lkidds favorite holiday. (totally not because he can dress up as a skeleton with a little radio blasting spooky scary skeletons all night) 

Was a very small bapy 

He was also a Velcro Baby, did not like to be separated for very long 

For a very short time he had a pet mantis named Stick, he found the mantis in the backyard when playing, he was surprisingly diligent with Stick for the short amount of time he had them. 

One time when C00lkidd was little (around 6 years old) he caught 007n7 putting veggies in the brownies and said, “Are you trying to get nutrition in me?” (based off an irl occurrence) 

C00lkidd had to be convinced to eat the brownies that time, and to his surprise (and not 007n7’s) they tasted the same as regular brownies. 

Needed to be on a child leash for a good while. (I wonder why) 

ADHD Central  

Has on multiple occasions when he was little, tried to eat 007n7’s burger hat. (If the Noob head were able to scream, they would have in those moments.) 

Loves to crush up the cookies when Dad makes him dirt cake. 

Has a collection of paper bags with drawn on faces of *spooky* movie villains that he has used to scare Dad. 

Has faint memories of Noli but wouldn’t recognize Noli if he were face to face with him. 

The blanket he was wrapped in when found is a comfort object now. 

Well aware that he’s adopted, doesn't particularly care about it that much. 

In that phase where he doesn't want to sleep in his room for one reason or another. (Darkness, Separation Anxiety, spooky shadows. Etc.)  

Was still in that phase when he was Forsaken, he did not sleep well the first few weeks and had a lot of anxiety until he asked 1x (and later Noli) if he could sleep in their bed for the night. (Look I like 1x being a softie sue me he may be the embodiment of hatred but that doesn’t mean he hates kids) 

The Specter let c00lkidd see 007n7 late at night one time, no (unknowingly) twisted form no nothing, because it would cause more anguish for 007n7 in later rounds after that brief moment of hope. (Fuck the Specter we all hate the Specter) 

C00lkidds twisted form causes the uncanny valley feeling for the survivors 

[ingravinoveritas]

Speaking as a trans uk person who grew up under section 28 and is just a few years younger than David, that reaction on the Assembly last night is the most ‘I think in another time, I wouldn’t have been entirely cis’ response I’ve ever seen. I’ve got a couple of friends of similar age and similar ‘I’m cis because I wasn’t able to be anything else’ mindset and just… I hope he’s happy, and I hope his loved ones give him the support around this whatever he decides and feels.

Oh, Anon. I'm sorry, I am so behind in answering Anons and trying to catch up now. But I saw this message when you sent it in and first of all, big hugs to you (if you are okay with that).

Secondly, though, I can't thank you enough for writing in and sharing this, as being a contemporary of David's and trans, your perspective is absolutely invaluable and carries so much weight. I am a non-trans, non-UK person, but I had a similar reaction to what David said on The Assembly, and from the DMs I've gotten and conversations that have happened since it aired, it seems others have, too.

I have more thoughts on this related to what was said on the episode of David's podcast that Georgia hosted, so I am going to try and save a lot of those thoughts for another post in response to the numerous Anons I have gotten about that. But for me, what stands out are two particular things.

One is that this is now the second time that David has specifically mentioned his experiences with Section 28 and homophobia growing up while also getting choked up/emotional about it. In this instance, he was specifically asked what made him start supporting the trans community...and this is what he said. He did not at all mention his nonbinary child--which of course doesn't mean that Wilf isn't part of the reason--but what David goes to directly in his answer is homophobia and Section 28.

What makes this so significant is that he spoke of it not as someone who saw it from the outside, but who had experienced it from within--something I also noticed in his podcast interview with Russell T. Davies, where RTD talks about discovering he was gay and the process of navigating his sexuality and David essentially "fills in the blanks" as RTD is talking, as if he'd gone through it himself.

Seeing David get so emotional--where it wells up in you and fills your chest and something in the core of you tightens automatically no matter how hard you try to stop it--is something I felt like I recognized. Something that comes from a place of trauma, where you don't just remember a certain event or incident, but relive everything you felt when it was happening. And it breaks my heart to think that he has been through things like that and may still be dealing with them now.

I think your comment about "in another time" echoes into this, because that's been another recurring theme in these conversations. It's this idea that David seems to have that his children and the younger generation on the whole can be whoever they want to be...but he can't. As if somehow it's too late for him to change, to be who he wants to be.

In David's recent appearance on Lorraine, she gushed over how much she loves David and Michael together and how people think they are married, and ends by saying, "In another world." That she (and so many others) can plainly see what's between them and that in another world, Michael and David would be together.

We all only get this one life. This one shot at being here, at being alive long enough to find what makes us happy and hold on like hell to it.

...So why not in this time? Why not in this world?

You're never too old to figure out who you are, or to embrace it. To realize that safety is not the same thing as happiness. To let go of being afraid, to finally come out of survival mode and have the chance to just live in the world.

Shouldn't David get to have that same chance?

A few weeks ago, I noticed some fans on Twitter/X talking about TERF/GCs "accusing" David of being trans. These fans immediately leapt to David's defense: "What? People actually think David is trans?" and "No way! David is NOT trans." And while well-meaning, these responses pained me because of the underlying implication that being trans is something that needs to be "defended against" in the first place.

Because it’s not.

Because it shouldn't be.

Because the correct and only answer to "Why do people think David is trans?" is, "If David is trans (or nonbinary, or genderfluid), why would it matter?"

So thank you again for this, Anon. I hope people will really take in the words you've said and understand why you are saying them. And I hope, as you do, that David is truly, genuinely happy with whatever he feels and decides, regardless of what anyone else thinks.

[onlyforosblaine]

THT Season 6 Episode 9

Spoilers ahead......At this point spoil yourself. There's nothing left to look forward to.

I don't even know where to begin. I'm writing this to vent. I'm writing because this was a devastating episode for long time fans of this show and i just need to talk about it.

As i saw this episode i kept thinking about how Elisabeth Moss really said record yourself as you watch the last scene with so much glee. Is she really that clueless or just sadistic?

It feels like every interview she has ever given where she spoke about Nick was to gaslight us into thinking she feels the way we do about these two characters but really she was just playing with our feelings. I WISH i had recorded my reaction to the finale because it was mainly just me saying Fuck you to her.

She said during the episode that her god is the god of love. She lied. Tried to lure us into thinking that means something. She said I love you to the handmaids, trying to throw us off into thinking this epsiode is the one where she will choose love. This was all done on purpose. To set us up. Which is just cruel. Her god is the god of wrath.

To say that Serena is one of them now because she gave up one measly piece of intelligence six seasons in when Nick has given her significantly more throughout this journey is undoing the work of all these seasons. Can't they see this? She says at one point that she thought Serena has changed. When did she see this? When she kept going back to Gilead to rise up in power time and again. Giving up amnesty, everything Tuello offered. And the minute the conversation between Serena and June turned to what she has done to bring up Gilead June gladly says let's not talk about it. Why? Why not talk about her wrongs? Because it doesn't have the shock value for the social media pages to see a villain confront her wrongdoings. It's more jarring to see the good guy go bad.

To say bravery looks good on Lawrence while knowing what was about to happen. They chose to write this dialogue on the back of every brave thing Nick has ever done- disregarding him and all those instances that made us love this character. Again because Lawrence made one good decision in three seasons.

Now to talk about the most painful scene of this episode. It was cruel and i guess what Moss wanted most of all- Shocking. Maybe she knew the script this season was so bad that this is what would get us to watch. I wish she knew we would have watched anyway. For Nick. For the rebellion (that falls flat on the face by the way because it's so poorly written).

The slow motion to show Nick, the fake tears on her part. Making him stop on the steps and doing nothing. She knew she was killing us along with Nick and reveled in it as a director. Completely foregoing everything we loved about June.

How could she not stand up? How could she not at the very least give him the choice to get on that plane? Just a nod, a signal, anything...Didn't he deserve that much after everything? Even if he did choose to get on the plane, he would never tell on her to those on board. He would die even as he made the wrong choice. I know this. Because that's the Nick you showed us for all these years.

I would take a Nick who gives up a half assed plan to save June than a June who doesn't even blink as she watches Nick go up on that plane. They really want us to think that SHE has the moral high ground here?!

Adding that line for Nick, saying that she told him to leave time and again...when? I'll tell you when- it never happened. This is your last ditch attempt to make us believe he's a whole different person. Because you spent the last few seasons convincing us he was forced to stay in Gilead and now you changed your mind. And if he is to be the biggest villain on the show then why torture us by having him ask Lawrence if she was okay at the end? Just to devastate us and play with our feelings. To make us watch for that tiny morsel. Forget making something authentic for the audience that has been loyal to you for so long. Just horrific- the way this was handled!

Forget that people invested in the story you told. I guess it really is just show business. Joke's on me for believing in this story all this time. Thanks to you I'm not going to be watching The Testaments or anything made by these writers ever again. Thanks for the trauma.