#this is whiplash from my crack fic

[wannaeatramyeon]

Samuel Seo x Reader: Thankful

G/N. Sammy spiralling and soft.

Deep down, Samuel knows that it's not on you to cater to his ego. It's not on you to fix him.

To lift him up when he spirals and plummets. When the fragile thread of his sanity loosens and he nosedives.

Yet he still looks to you. Reaches out, clings on. Using you as his anchor and his beacon, praying that his demons doesn't get to you too.

Doesn't understand the things you see in him, why you want to be with him. How could you, when he doesn't even like himself.

You give him a million reasons. You push through your lips quivering and eyes watering. You smile and plead for him to see what you do.

But how can you compare a king to you? Someone that holds his universe in the palm of their hands?

How can he ask you to settle for being his queen when you are his heaven and beyond?

Samuel is pathetically thankful, grateful during his better moments. Words he can never express, feelings he doesn't want to admit.

But he tries to show you in other ways.

Your fingers trace over his tattoos.

There's a new addition.

Samuel doesn't think too much of it. His body is covered. What's a few more lines on his tapestry?

He should hate how sentimental this is, how he has marked himself with someone else.

But no matter what happens-

If by chance fate has something cruel in store. If you realise that he is only speaking the truth of his worthlessness-

He can never forget you. Never forget the way you make him feel.

So he keeps you there. Your name. A permanent mark.

On his skin and over his heart.

[sunsburns]

imagine asking wade if he still likes you when he’s literally inside you LMAOOO I just know he’d be so flabbergasted

i know a normal people fan when i see one (18+, fluff)

but jokes aside, and dicks inside, wade would likely get whiplash; his head turning so fast he can hear a crack in his neck, staring at you like you're crazy because just seconds ago you'd been running your gentle hands over his skin. your fingers brush against the divots of his scarred skin, your cheek pressed to his chest, humming softly, close enough that your lashes tickle whenever you blink.

wade's a little out of breath, sticky with sweat, and miraculously, rendered speechless. to others, a rarity, but with you, while still rare, is more frequent, especially after sex.

sure, he drops a joke or two, but there is a window where wade likes to sit there, holding you, skin against skin, in silence; listening to the sounds of your shaky breaths as you come down from your high, the sounds of the bedsheets ruffling with slow movements from the both of you, even the sounds of the old crackly fan on his ceiling.

and so, in that small window of silence, the two of you lay there in a warm embrace, listening to each other's heartbeats as wade's dick slowly softens inside you.

but then that small window starts to close, the silence breaking with you. you shift, turning to press your chin against wade's chest while looking up at him, "hey," you whisper, a smile growing against your lips.

"hi," he whispers back to you, but he continues to stare at the window, watching the soft light of the rising sun peeking in through the white lace curtains you picked out, a part of you in the dingy apartment he shared with blind al.

"we've officially gone at it all night. fucking like rabbits. and i can't believe i'm saying this but, i'm fucking spent. i might need a few weeks to recover. i asked for a bone and you threw a whole skeleton at me, peanut."

you snort, rolling your eyes, "yeah, right."

"okay, fine, a week is too long." wade hums, he finds your hair and runs his hand over it, twirling a strand around his finger, "i'll be good as new by tonight or at least by the time you scroll to read another fic of me, of course."

you're still staring at him, and wade, ever the observant, notices. he shifts, sits up, holds onto your waist, and brings you up with him. you have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan, sensitive to the way he's touching you, the way his dick keeps you full.

wade raises his brows (or at least, where his brows would be), "what? is there something on my face? i know i'm ugly but i thought we were past that. your staring is making me a little self conscious, sweetbuns."

"wade?"

"yes, cupcake?"

"do you like me?"

"what-?" he stares at you, eyes wide and nearly popping out of his head. "do i- what? what the fuck kind of stupid ass fuck ass question is that? you think i don't like you? we literally fucked all night. literally did every position in the book. i let you peg me! you might be the only person on earth that matches my freak-"

"yeah, i know but-"

"bitch, i'm literally still inside you."

that's when you can't help but laugh, grinning against his neck when he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. you love the way his body emits warmth, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer like you want to live inside his skin.

wade holds you, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. and he groans loudly when you say, "you never answered my question."

"oh my god," he huffs dramatically, "of course i fucking like you. like no shit."

"okay, great. i was just making sure."

[bangtanshelves]

JJK Fanfic Recos

Hi. These are some of the fanfics I've read.

I've read A LOT but I'll only be including the ones I really enjoyed reading.

I'm in the process of recollecting them, please bare with me.

I'm also updating this post often, so whenever I end finishing a fic I like I just post it here. hehe

💓 - Fluff ❤‍🩹 - angst 🥵 - smut 🚨 - violence/drugs 🤪 - crack ⭐ - fav 🎣 - latest addition to the list

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. SERIES ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

My Love is Here - @/solemnreads

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (so much angst, I love it), 🥵 summary: "You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened."

Knife's Edge - @/readyplayerhobi

Completed ✅

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵, 🚨 The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

Four Seven Eight - @/jiminrings

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (fic made me cry) ,🥵 you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

Close to you - @/muniimyg

Completed ✅ ⭐

genre: 💓, 🤪 It should've been easier than this, right?In which oc and Jungkook sleep together and he can't get over it.

Falling Skies - @/fortunexkookie

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

Please Love Me - @/ahunderedtimesover

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

Lowkey - @/xpeachesncream

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 In order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, Jeon Jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the way of dating.

Hotter Than Hell - @/chateautae

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Jungkook, Lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he's unsure of. Embarking on his journey for the answers should've been easy, if it weren't for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. Kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover Lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and Jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

An Ode to a Broken Heart - @/smoochkooks

Ongoing... ✍

Genre: ❤‍🩹 (bro I've been crying over this fic for days), 🥵 (future smut)  you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. now it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.

Mutual Help - @/personasintro

Ongoing... ✍ (this is also posted on AO3)

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 (damn... that's all i can say)  in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

Way Back Home - @/solemnreads

Ongoing... ✍

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (please i really love angsty fics, fite me), 🥵

"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is" he asks you with tears in his eyes. You look down at the sight of your son with an oxygen mask on his face while your daughter is sleeping on the couch near the wall. You look into his eyes, broken, and sad. You've dreamt of this day for years, wondering how he would react. But here you are, hoping he could've meet the twins under different circumstances. "Yes... they're your children."

Strawberry Kisses - @/pixieknj

Ongoing... ✍

Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 (Chapter 1 has been posted, but its something else) Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. ONE-SHOTS or TWO-SHOTS ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

The Right Choice - @/honeytae

Genre: 💓 for as long as you've known Jungkook, you would think that you're witnessed all sides of him. But when you notice the way he's looking at you right now, you think you may be wrong about that.

Rainy Days - @/rklve

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Your life choices left not only yours, but Jungkook's hear broken in pieces. Now you're back in town, and just like Pluto, even if its cold and dark he tends to orbit around his sun forever.

High Demand - @/bunnyhugs77

Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🚨 A modern day Romeo and Juliet

SOJU - @/hoseoksluna

Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

Lost & Found - @/kooktrash

Genre: ❤‍🩹 (if you squint), 🥵 your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

Bottle Up Old Love - @/wintaerbaer

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

Pink Sapphire - @/jiminrings ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹(please I'm a sucker for this) ,🥵 Having Jungkook as a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. Your relationship's perhaps become so easy that Jungkook doesn't think sometimes— and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

Will it fit? - @/jeonsweetpea

Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🤪, ❤‍🩹 (just a little bit) So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can't exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom...

Break up with your Boyfriend - @/spideyjimin

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook, the campus fuckboy, has decided to make you his next victim, but you're far from being like any of his previous hookups. You're not single. You're actually in a very long-term relationship with Baekhyun, the man you consider the love of you life, but it's for sure something that won't stop Jungkook. He wants you, and he's going to do absolutely everything to have you, even falling in love.

Paint me naked - @/gimmethatagustd

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he's not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

I hate you, I love you - @j/ungblue 🎣

Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends... and you're absolutely in love with him; he's in love too—just not with you.

How to Get a Guy - @/taeshobipop 🎣

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He's loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you're absolutely bizarre. But there's a silver lining— Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he'll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungook can continue persuing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn't want to tbe the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?

[mingtinys]

[11:45 p.m.]

pairing : song mingi x gn!reader

fluff , humor , comfort fic

warnings : thunderstorms

word count : 0.7 k

requested ? no

a/n : i am not the least bit ashamed to admit this was slightly inspired by that one ouran host club episode. it is my comfort episode. sue me.

Typically, you're one to enjoy a good Summer storm. You're rather fond of the cozy peace they bring. Especially late at night, when the heavy rain starts to sound like static and lulls you into a deep sleep. Interrupted only by soft rolls of thunder and the occasional blue flickers of lightning.

But the one tonight is far too aggressive for your taste.

The rain is deafening as it continues its onslaught against your poor window. And each startling crash of lightning precedes an even louder boom that shakes the room. Rattling picture frames that hang delicately on the walls.

You won't be sleeping tonight. That's for sure.

Anxiety wraps its nimble fingers around your heart and squeezes with each subsequent lighting strike. Digging its claws deeper and deeper until you can't take it anymore.

Your comforter is quickly tossed to the side, skin exposed to the chilly night air in your desperate escape. You tiptoe your way to the living room, searching for the giant scaredy-cat you know is likely up calming his own nerves.

And sure enough, there he is.

Cuddled up on the couch with the fuzziest blanket he owns draped over his shoulders. He's mindlessly acrolling through his phone with his headphones on at full volume. You can just barely make out the faint song playing through them.

You creep up slowly so as not to spook him, though it doesn't do much good. Mingi still flinches as soon as your shadow casts across the room with yet another flash from outside. Whipping his head around so fast you're surprised he doesn't get whiplash. But he quickly recovers, laughing at himself once he realizes it's just you.

He slips off his headphones and lets them hang from around his neck. "Storm keeping you up?"

"Yeah."

"I thought you liked storms," he frowns.

"I do, this one's just a little..."

Mingi hums. "I get it. Come, sit." He pats the open spot beside him and you sit. His arm wraps around your shoulder, enveloping you into his blanket cocoon and pulling you in until you're smooshed against his side.

"Did the storm spook you too?" You ask, resting your head on the junction of his neck.

"Pfft, no, I like being awake–"

A giant crack of lightning strikes the pavement outside a little too close for comfort and startles the both of you. Mingi even lets loose a sharp string of curses. It makes you giggle, which unwinds the knot in your stomach just enough to tease your boyfriend.

"You were saying?"

But then the power flickers as the wind picks up and you're eating your words. Tensing at the near-instant karma for teasing Mingi. The wind is the worst part, in your opinion.  You hate how it howls and bellows as it whips around the corners of your home. It echoes through your head, sending you into a spiral of anxiety. Heart racing so fast you can feel its pulse in every limb.

Until suddenly, it all stops. Muted by calming tunes blasting through the headphones placed over your ears.

You glance up at Mingi, pulling one side back. "Are you sure you don't need them?"

"No, I'll be okay. Besides, I'm your big strong boyfriend, it's my job to take care of you." Mingi puffs his chest, looking rather proud of his heroic act.

"You're such a dork."

He just smiles and shakes his head at your comment. Then taps through his playlist to find music he knows you like. "Just try to get some sleep," he says as he readjusts the headphones and presses a long kiss to your temple.

To his credit, the headphones do a wonderful job of blocking out the storm. You wouldn't even know it was still ongoing if it weren't for the way Mingi jumps up every so often. Completely defenseless against the rampage outside now that you've taken his only protection. And even though each time you look at him, he reassures you with a tight smile, you know he's dying a little on the inside with each boom of thunder.

So, eventually, you coax him to lie down and tuck his head to your chest, holding him with your arm pressed over his ear. He hums when your fingers slowly toy with his hair, the vibration of it tickling your skin. Within seconds, he's fully melted into you. The both of you slipping into a slumber with the storm now nothing but background noise.

taglist: @dontwannaexsist

[sh1-n0bu]

can i request something?? can you do modern relationship with scara??

✿ 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖! ✿

characters: modern!scaramouche x nb!reader

warnings: modern au!!!, fluff, crack, my poor attempt at humor, scara has a bad relationship with his moms, written with high school au in mind, scara being bad at feelings, headcannon format, raiden shogun goes as raiden shino since shogun is a title rather than a name and all…

notes: when that one song u used to religiously listen to when u were younger and cringier suddenly comes rushing back in for a fic idea

oh dear gods, where do we even begin with this one?

tsundere to the max and we all know, his moms knows it, you know it, the entire school knows it, even the online friends he plays games with knows it

which explains on how you knew that scaramouche had a crush on you the moment he started showing small signs of it. waaaaayyyy before he even understood his own emotions and feelings and came to terms with it

safe to say, he is super easy to read. like, a motherfuckin open book that’s full of illustrations made for kids. at least, that’s how it feels to you anyways

has a bad relationship with both of his mothers and his older sister but at least he tolerates his older sister better than his mothers, which is a good thing. at least he has someone to turn to when something goes wrong

him, his mom ei and his older sister are carbon copies of each other alongside his aunt. the first time you went over to scara’s place to prepare for an upcoming exam, you almost got whiplash from just how many similar purple people were there

like… low-key concerning with how you easily mistook his mom ei with his aunt or his older sister with his mom ei

safe to say you made a fool out of yourself for the first few meetings with his family

his other mom, miko, is very… eccentric to say the least. teasing, sly, quick-witted, charming and charismatic. you and scara joke around that miko was a fox or a demon in her former life

his older sister, shino, is quite the sweetheart one the other hand. quiet, reserved, socially awkward and friendly if you go over how her normal face looks so emotionless and dead. reminds you of a soldier or a puppet with how shino is so willing to fulfill ei’s wishes or words to the T

his aunt, baal, is an absolute sweetheart. the ultimate sweetheart actually. such a sweet woman she is with her soft words, warm smiles and motherly affections. she offered you a hand-made cookie when you were about to leave simply because you were scara’s friend!

yes, you cried to the amount of kindness and scara made fun of you for it

you would never peg someone as mean, introverted and arrogant as scaramouche to be friends with the popular, soccer kid from school did ya’? well you are wrong because scara and childe are best friends!!! as childe claims

the ginger-head made a bet with scaramouche saying that you two’s friendship won’t last. cue scaramouche and his over competitive ass coming over and latching himself to you to make sure that your friendship would last

AKA childe’s plan to make scaramouche realize his feelings and come to terms with it has officially started!

likes to occasionally play video games such as wuthering waves, minecraft, resident evil, silent hill etc etc. hates first person shooter games cuz it’s so not his style and he hates the annoying boys that he comes across during the game

will never say it nor mention it but sometimes he plays those ‘using not a single part of your brain’ type of games like playing as dentists or doctors. hell, he even likes to play dress up games from time to time. he just loves the aesthetics and the different designs of the clothes, itches that inner aesthetic lover part of him. but he will NEVER mention it or be caught playing it. scaramouche would rather die

something tells me that his music taste would be more leaning into electronic or scene music. odetari, 6arelyhuman, kets4eki — you name it. sometimes, enjoys those gentle and soothing sounding anime openings too

he has sanrio plushies. more specifically, hello kitty ones

had an obsession with the cute white cat growing up and he never grew out of it

the moment he first found out that you like plushies or pink things or sanrio related things, he knew he gotta gift you anonymous sanrio gifts on your birthday or on special occasions. it was his early stages of courting you

was absolutely appalled when he was found out because whaddaYA MEAN HE LIKES SOFT AND THOSE STUPID PLUSHIES AND SANRIO RELATED THINGS?! NUH-UH, YOU MUST’VE SAW A DIFFERENT PURPLE HAIRED, BOWL HAIRCUT HAVING GUY CUZ SCARAMOUCHE WOULD NEVER LIKE THOSE STUPID THINGS!!!

he aint fooling anyone

takes his relationship slow since he has some big trust issues yet also attachment issues. pick a struggle tbh

had a panic attack after he officially, finally, after years of crushing on you, like literally acting like your boyfriend years later when he asked you out on a date because woohoo!! he asked you for a date \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/ but also shit, what type of a first date would you like ლಠ益ಠ)ლლಠ益ಠ)ლ

yeah, he had to do something he hated the most. ask his moms and sister for advice

after a lot of talk, discussions, secretly stalking your social profiles or you in general to see what you would like, scaramouche decided to take you out for an arcade date

you two had fun, he was glad you had fun, played bunch of different games together and even managed to win a cute matching plushies and keychains!! kuromi for him and melody for you. he was so glad that you liked it but he won’t say it out loud

walked you home after your first date, to your front door and bid you good night and “hope you had fun tonight, idiot” chu!! on your cheek before making a mad dash back home

the type of boyfriend who would lovingly bully you

“why the fuck are you wearing that? it’s making your stupid face look cuter than normal”

“who in their right mind would choose the green one? yellow looks better on you. no, the soft pastel one, not the bright one you idiot”

“you wanna die? who said i was ever gonna stop loving you after you turn into a roach? i’m gonna keep you in a special glass case until you change back dumbass”

yeah… just say you love them already, scara

your contact name on his phone is literally my idiot٩(╬ʘ益ʘ╬)۶

would lovingly call you names as he leaves soft kisses on your face

“you’re a fucking idiot but it’s fine, you’re my idiot”

[thatoneidiotyoulovesomuch]

I think it's so funny how much Danny's personality changes when people put him in fanfics.

This is coming from someone who only reads My Hero Academia x Danny Phantom crossover fics so this could be unique to that specific subcategory.

But I get whiplash on how people write him. In fanfics, he always seems to be this ticking time bomb and who is kinda angry and on edge all the time. Who has that whole protect obsession. (Which I don't really like at all, but that's not what this post is about) who cracks jokes sometimes but it's not that often

I guess it's a more realistic depiction because of all Danny's trauma it's still startling though because I still watch Danny Phantom every once in a while.

And in the show he's pretty laid back when he's not hunting ghost and even when he's fighting he's cracking jokes and stuff. What's especially jarring though is in the show Danny doesn't really help out fellow bullied kids. He's often like "dang that sucks at least Dash isn't after me though!"

I just think it's funny.

[totallytatum]

whiplash

Asshole! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary; just a little push and pull argument between you and joel. feelings are hurt and joel is just an asshole.

warning; language, arguing, angst (?)

word count; 621

divider ; saradika-graphics

" Are you fucking serious ? "

The silence was so loud, if you listened hard enough you could hear your heart beating profusely. He shifted slightly, looking at the ground and shoving his hands in his pockets.

" Darlin' list- "

You were quick to interrupted him, " are you fucking serious right now Joel? " You could almost hear it, you heart audibly shattering. Your voice cracked and tears began to sting your eyes. Refusing to let them break tension you sucked in air, setting your lungs on fire. He still remained silent, eyes darting all over your face before going to speak again.

" I just...I-It was never suppose to be... it was never suppose to be a thing. "

"So? You think I didn't know this? But it did, it turned into a thing. It turned into something! Admittedly you nauseated me. You put on this big ass scary man show and it sickened me. How you act towards everyone, especially Tommy, your own brother Joel, sickened me. How you lied to Ellie, sickened me. Everything about you sickened me Joel. "

" Thanks. "

" But it changed. It all changed and this just happened. You happened. I happened. This happened....It just happened. And now? Out of the blue it's just too much? "

The guard you had put up was failing and the true pain you felt was beginning to show, it could be heard in your voice. The struggle between words. Your nose red between the frostbite weather and the raw emotion. Joel stood in front of you, his exterior still blank as ever. No emotion laid anywhere, if you didn't know him- you'd think he was pissed. Everything about him was stone, except for the private nights, the secret touches shared between you two in the warmth of your own homes.

" You're getting to comfortable. Too emotional. Too invested. I can.. I just.. You're going to get hurt. I'm having my doubts... with all this. With you. " He sighed, taking a deep breath and looking at the sky. It wasn't that he was scared of growing emotion anymore, he was scared of you becoming apart of him. Another person lost if something went wrong.

" I-it's okay to have doubts Joel...we..we can get through them. " You were begging at this point, pleading not be left behind.

" Sweetheart- "

" Don't call me that. "

" Okay.. I just, we don't have..we don't have what Tommy and Maria have. "

" What? What do they have we couldn't get? "

" They have this.. they have this.. this. this... "

" Love? What makes you say we don't have that? I didn't think I had to say it but fuck! I love you asshole! "

He took a step back, swallowing harshly. " Do you love me? " You asked, taking in the long pause from him. Shaking your head quickly, you began to back up, shoving your hands into your pockets, " So that's a no. Got it. "

" I don't know... I don't know okay? I want to be sure, I just.. I don't want you to be another person lost. Another person gone. "

" This is fucking great. This is great- "

" I just want to be certain about you and I'm not. I should have stopped this a while back. I-I'm sorry.. I'm sorry- "

You could hear whatever else he was saying, back turned , feet crunching in the snow you made your way past the doors of they Tipsy Bison. Tears swimming down your face and snot running from your nose, you sobbed boomingly.

Opening the door to the bar, Tommy stepped out. " Mouse? You okay? Mouse- "

You didn't stop. You kept going, you kept going until you reached your front door. Tommy looked around to what could have the source of your emotional state. Quickly landing eyes on his brother.

" Joel- "

author's note ; I know this isn't a fic or a drabble, but merely more of a conversation piece. An argument, but I thought about this a lot and it was heavily inspired by a scene I saw. but I hope you guys enjoy it noneless.

[stobinesque]

A Cure for All That Ails You 🥪

For Lex's Spicy Six Summer Challenge! Thanks so much for putting this together, @thefreakandthehair! rating: T | wc: 6k | cw: none | tags: Stobin, Fluff, Post-season 3 prompt: “How did you go through life so far without knowing how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?” I took inspiration from the recipe in this post when writing the fic. I have also been informed by my partner that reading this may, in fact, make you want a grilled cheese, so there's a recipe handy if you need to sate your hunger afterwards. [ READ ON AO3 ]

Light slants in through the window at too sharp an angle, and Robin blinks away the blurriness from her eyes. Her head is bent at an awkward angle, tucked into the crook of Steve’s neck. He’s snoring loudly in her ear.

Robin pushes herself upright on unsteady elbows. Most of the achiness in her muscles has faded by now. The worst of her injuries had been some whiplash, and the persistent ringing in her ears from the fireworks.

She looks down at Steve—his bruises are still healing, a mottled yellow-green painting his eye socket and cheekbone. That’s the least of it. She knows there’s worse hidden below the blanket from the cracked ribs he’d gotten up from the Russians.

It’s been five days.

Robin stares down at her hands where they’re folded in her lap. She squeezes them into fists. Stretches them wide. Tries to convince herself that she can connect sight and sensation to the fact of her body’s existence.

It’s been five days.

She’s alive.

Slotting herself back into the world that she’d known before she plummeted into the depths of the earth has felt impossible.

Though maybe that’s because there’s nothing left to slot herself into.

No school to return to, yet. No job to speak of—its remains a pile of rubble at the outskirts of town. No friends who know what happened.

No old friends, anyway.

There’s Steve.

He doesn’t quite feel like a friend though. He’s something…more. Something that exists beyond her understanding of what friendship or even love used to be. She’s never had a sibling—never wanted a sibling—and neither has Steve, so neither of them know enough to gauge if the weird, intense bond that’s sprouted between is sibling-like in nature. But it doesn’t feel like something so simple as that. She feels at once like she chose him, and like he was a gift to her from the universe.

It’s been five days. And he’s already the most important person in her life.

Robin sighs, and squeezes her eyes shut again, listening to the echoing silence of her house. It’s Tuesday. Her parents had taken the first few days after Starcourt off to help take care of her and Steve. Not that they were necessarily a huge help. But they’d made soup, and helped Steve with his bandages when needed. And it was just…nice to have them around. Their presence was grounding. Not so much because they were an especially calming pair, and more because their existence was so fundamentally at odds with the remembered atmosphere of the bunker and the tunnels, that seeing and hearing them made it almost impossible for Robin to forget where she was.

But today is their first day back at work, and the silence feels tangible. If she closes her eyes for too long she’ll be back in that cell, hands tied together, while a man spits sludge at her and asks what she knows; threatens to hurt her little friend if she doesn’t give up the intel he needs. Never touches her, never hurts her, but speaks with a glint in his eyes and a leer on his face that sets her teeth on edge and makes her stomach flip.

It’s been five days.

“Steve.” Her voice is hoarse, desperately scraping up her throat. She wants to hold his hand— rain bearing down, staring blankly at joined hands, linked fingers as her heart races—“Steve.”

Steve’s head rocks back and forth, and a small whine escapes him as he stretches and blinks against light. “Robs?” he voices is soft and slurry; it almost makes her smile.

“Morning, sleepy head.”

“Mmph.” He sits up, squinting heavily as he stares at her. His hair is all mussed, sticking up in every direction, and a thump of fondness beats in her chest, because she’s pretty sure that there aren’t many other people who get to see Steve “The Hair” Harrington without his signature coif. Maybe she should feel bad that she’s having such a stereotypical straight girl thought about it, but it’s not like she’s happy he’s in love with her or anything, it’s just…he’s hers now, and the way he’s trusting her like this makes her think that maybe she’s his now, too.

She’s never been another person’s favorite person before.

Her parents like her, sure. Love her, even. But she’s pretty sure she’s not their favorite person. She’s too anxious. Too loud, in the wrong ways, and never quiet in the right ones. She thought at one point she was Barb’s favorite person, but then Nancy came along and you can’t exactly ditch someone as easily as Barb ditched her if they’re your favorite person, right?

God, she needs to think about literally anything else right now.

“I’m hungry.”

Steve’s stomach growls the moment she says it. He scrubs a hand over his face and glares into the open air, like he’s offended his body has physical needs. “Me too, apparently.” He pushes himself upright, looking around the room. “‘time is it?”

Robin glances over at her clock. “Eleven.”

“Ugh. I want to sleep forever.” Instead, he pushes himself up and to a standing position. “C’mon, let’s go make some breakfast.” He reaches out a hand to her, and she accepts it with a decisive nod.

“That sounds like a great idea. Although I’m really more in the mood for lunch fare? At the very least something heartier than breakfast. Well, not heartier, because really a good breakfast should be pretty hearty since you’re eating for the first time in several hours and your body needs the extra boost. But, still, breakfast foods are so limiting, you know? Like, why are pancakes only a breakfast food? And eggs? I guess eggs can be an anytime food, but they’re usually a breakfast food, and for some reason there are some types of egg preparation that are extra especially breakfast-food-only. Like, who’s ever had an omelet for dinner, you know?”

“Robin.”

“Yeah?”

Steve stares at her for a beat, and for a second her heart rate kicks up—like going on some dumb little monologue about breakfast food is going to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back and makes him realize he doesn’t want such a weirdo for a friend.

He smiles. “I love you.”

Robin thinks she should balk at that. He’d just confessed to having a crush on her five days ago. She doesn’t want them to go on with him carrying a torch for her that she’ll never be able to accept.

But… Well. Robin’s not exactly an expert on romance. Even less an expert on reading people. But she thinks she’s figured out the secret code to Steve Harrington, and he’s not looking at her with tortured, lovelorn puppy eyes. He’s looking at her like she’s the sun. Like she’s some miraculous thing. But there’s nothing romantic there. He’s not staring at her mouth, or her chest. He’s looking at her like she’s nothing more and nothing less than the best thing he’s ever seen, and like that would be true no matter what she looked like.

She shakes her head. Smiles. “Love you too, dingo.”

“That one’s new.”

Robin shrugs. “Just possibly watching you take a bunch of punches to the gut from Russian spies made me feel like ‘dingus’ was a tad unfair.”

Steve laughs. “I’m flattered, but you can call me dingus all you want.”

“Okay then, dingus. What’s for breakfast-lunch then?”

“I think that’s just called ‘brunch,’ Bobs. But, um…how about soup and grilled cheese?”

“Only if you’re cooking, or want cold cheese on toast.”

Steve stops in his tracks and turns to stare at her. “Robs…do you not know how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Robin shakes her head, feeling her cheeks warm a little. She’s more than capable of fending for herself when it comes to food. Can even cook a couple of staples. And she’s great when it comes to baking, and recipes with highly detailed instructions. But grilled cheese always felt like one of those kinds of things that are deceptively complicated. Like the fact that it’s supposed to be so simple is exactly the thing making it so hard. She was certain if she ever tried it’d come out a half-burnt, half-unmelted-cheese mess. “No…?”

“How did you go through life so far without knowing how to make a grilled cheese sandwich?” Steve looks genuinely distressed by this newfound knowledge.

Robin shrugs. “Never seemed important, I guess. Never really liked them when my mom made them, so I never bothered to figure out how, even once I realized that you can make them with cheese that isn’t glorified plastic.”

Steve gives her a despairing look. “Please don’t tell me your only experience of grilled cheeses have been ones made with Kraft singles.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you!” She says brightly.

Steve looks to be on the brink of tears.

“Hey…it’s okay, Steve. I promise you can pop my good-grilled-cheese cherry!”

Steve’s expression, if anything, grows even more pained. “Please, for the love of God, do not put it like that.”

Robin just grins at him, watching as he opens her fridge to take a look around. He rummages around for far longer than seems necessary for sussing out ingredients for a grilled cheese, but maybe he’s just taking stock of the contents for later? He comes back bearing all the cheeses currently residing in the Buckley fridge (sans the package of Kraft singles): a sharp cheddar, pepper jack, muenster, and swiss. He sets them down on the counter in front of them “Okay, pick one to three of these.”

Robin throws him a skeptical look, but points to the pepper jack and the muenster.

“Beautiful, okay. Now, lets see…” Steve sweeps his gaze across the kitchen, taking stock of the cabinets. He makes for the narrow one crammed between the stove and the sink, pulling it open to reveal the small stock of spices. He moans in disappointment. “I’m taking you grocery shopping after this. This is pathetic, Buckley. What do you all even eat?”

Robin shrugs, feeling a little self-conscious. “Mostly pasta, and sometimes roasted veggies, I guess?”

Steve turns to look at her, and his gaze is a little too sharp. A lot too knowing. The semi-judgmental look drops from his face, and is replaced by something more…tender? “Okay, yeah, me too, until I figured out how to cook for myself. My parents weren’t really into the whole ‘family meal’ thing.”

Robin shrugs. “Mine either.”

Steve looks surprised. “Really? But…I don’t know, they seem like they’d be into that kind of thing.”

Robin snorts. “What makes you say that?”

“Your parents seem to actually like spending time with you.”

“Do they?” Robin’s never gotten the sense that they hate being around her or anything. But sometimes she feels more like an inconvenient stray they took in than their kid.

Steve shrugs; stares down at his feet. “More than mine, anyway.”

“Yeah, well. Something tells me that’s not a high bar to clear.” Robin doesn’t know much about Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, but the fact that it’s been nearly a week since their son almost died and she’s seen neither hide nor hair of them speaks for itself. “But, no, my parents think that family meals and the ‘standard nuclear family’ are capitalist propaganda designed to create corporate drones who will destroy the planet. So. No family dinners. I don’t think it ever occurred to them that the reason some people do it is to have an organized reason to spend time with their family.” Robin tilts her head, considering. “Then again, they aren’t really into ‘organization’ in general.”

Steve nods with a small frown. “So…we both have fucked up parents, but in directly opposing ways?”

Robin hesitates. “I don’t know if I’d call them ‘fucked up,’ but they’re definitely not what you’d call functional parents, no.”

“Well, it’s a travesty that you’ve made it through 17 years on this planet without a proper grilled cheese, so I’m going to do the best I can with your meager offerings, and then we’re going to go shopping so that you’re armed to the teeth for any future grilled-cheese-making expenditures you may wish to embark on.”

Robin raises an eyebrow and shoots him a look. “I think Dustin’s rubbing off on you, buddy.”

Steve blinks and visibly plays back what he just said. “I don’t know where any of that came from,” he whispers in a joking panic.

Robin pats him on the shoulder. “It’s alright. Comes with the territory of befriending someone with an obnoxiously large personality.”

Steve grins at her. “Looking forward to it.”

Robin’s heart turns to goo and the smile she shoots back at him feels like it might split her face in two. “Me too.” Robin places her hands on her hips and turns to stare at the spice shelf. “Now, what exactly do you think we’re lacking on the spice front?”

“Robin, I don’t think we have time for me to list every single thing this cabinet is missing.”

“Fine, then tell me the things you wish were in it right now.”

Steve sighs. “Red pepper flakes, for one—although I guess if we’re using pepper jack for this it’s less important. It still makes me despair for the food you’ve been making before now that you don’t have it, though. And, uh…I guess herbs other than oregano and basil? Those are fine, but some variety would be nice, you know? Where’s the sage? The thyme? The rosemary? I guess we can go with oregano for now, though.” He pulls the jar from the cabinet and sets it on the counter. “Other than that I guess this is all we need for now— Oh!” Steve grabs the container of black pepper from the cabinet and adds it to his pile of ingredients. He keeps staring up at the cabinet, hands on his hip, and a small little frown on his face. "I’m still definitely helping you all stock up, because even if you’re just eating pasta and veggies you should still be using more spices than you’ve got here.”

Robin stares at him. “Steve Harrington…are you a cooking nerd?”

Steve’s head whips around and he stares at her, mouth agape. “No? What? Take that back right now!”

Robin crosses her arms over her chest and shakes her head. “Nuh-uh. You are, aren’t you? You taught yourself a bunch of cooking tricks and have them all memorized. You can launch off onto little rants about flavor profiles and culinary technique, can’t you? I bet you have cookbooks stashed under your bed, or something.”

Steve fish-faces at her, waving an accusatory finger in her direction. “I’m…you…how did you know that?”

Robin laughs, delighted. “Genuine guess. But you do? Oh, that’s delicious. Becoming friends with you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. The Steve Harrington lore is long and varied. You should be studied for science.” She throws her head back with a pleased cackle.

Steve is just staring at her, dumbfounded, a light dusting of pink on his face.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Steve shakes his head, and his eyes lose a little of the glassy quality they’d gained. “Nothing.” His hand reaches up to pinch at his nose for a second before falling away. “I just…do you mean that?”

“Do I mean what?”

“That being my friend is the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”

Robin blinks at him slowly. “Yeah? I mean the how of it wasn’t ideal, but even without the Russians we were already on our way here, right? The trauma just sort of…fast-forwarded it.”

“I…” Steve looks around the kitchen like he’s looking for an emergency exit. “Yeah. I guess.”

Robin feels her face fall. “Do you…do you not feel the same?”

“No! I mean, yes!! I just…” Steve rakes a frantic hand through his hair. “I’m not, uh, used to people liking me that much. I guess.”

Robin frowns. “What are you talking about, dingus? You were literally Hawkins Royalty!”

Steve huffs in frustration. “Yeah, but that’s not…being popular isn’t the same as people liking you, you know?” She doesn’t. Or, maybe she can guess, based on what he said in the bunker. But it still seems…wrong, somehow. Like everything she understood about the world is backwards.

Steve keeps talking, before her thoughts can spiral away from her. “Sure, I was popular. But my only actual friends were Tommy and Carol, and they…I mean, they weren’t bad friends, I guess? Terrible people, sure, but they were actually pretty…I mean, for all the fucked up shit…they always had my back?”

“Until you wanted to stop being a douchebag, you mean?”

Steve grimaces. “Yeah. I think they were…all three of us, really, were trapped in our own misery too much to let other people’s happiness pass without punishment. So I don’t think they liked when I tried to find some of my own.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

A part of Robin wants to ask What about Nancy? the question poised at the tip of her tongue. But he said himself that he’s not in love with her anymore. Robin’s not sure how much she believes that, because he seems pretty smitten whenever she comes up in conversation—not that it’s happened a whole lot in the week since The Bathroom. Then again, that’s also sort of how he talks about her, and Robin’s reasonably sure that his crush petered out about as quickly as it appeared. Once the drugs were out of his system he admitted that he hadn’t really thought of her like that until Dustin had suggested they’d be good together, and after her bathroom confession he realized that while he did love her, it wasn’t actually romantic.

She doesn’t know anything about how Steve and Nancy broke up, though. Doesn’t know what baggage is or isn’t there—maybe it was just a regular teenage break up; goodness knows she doesn’t trust the Hawkins’ rumor mill as far as she can throw it. But she does know that he didn’t offer any caveats to his initial declaration—I’m not used to people liking me—and Robin's not going to go around shining lights in dark corners unless he does so first.

Robin’s stomach growls.

“Okay, sappy hour’s over. I’ve got to eat something stat, or else I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

Steve shakes his head like he’s shaking loose cobwebs and leaps into action. He’s not finished gathering ingredients, though, apparently. He bustles around the kitchen until he’s added the butter bell, a few cloves of garlic, a loaf of bread, and a small jar of honey to his haul.

“What the fuck.”

Steve points in her direction with the spatula he’s materialized out of nowhere. “Just trust me, Bobbin.”

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Last time I did that I wound up trapped in an elevator to a secret Russian base.”

“Ouch.” There’s a genuine grimace of pain on his face.

“Too soon?”

“Maybe just a little.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries.” Steve turns to the stove, where he’s already unearthed and deposited one of the two frying pans in the house. “Now, let’s get started. First things first: the butter. The goal is to make the outside of the sandwich as tasty as the inside of the sandwich, so you’ve got to find a way to imbue the bread with flavor.”

Robin nods along. “Sure. What’s that got to do with butter?”

“You’re killing me, Buckley,” he says with a beleaguered little groan. He gestures to the frying pan. “First we’ve gotta imbue the butter with some flavor, so that the bread can soak it all up—which is part of why I wanted pepper flakes, but we’ll just have to make do with herbs and black pepper, I guess.”

Robin watches as Steve takes what seems like an obscene amount of butter and plops it into the pan, followed by a small handful of the oregano, a couple shakes of pepper, and a pinch of salt. “Okay, so now we’re going to turn the heat on—at low, we don’t want to burn anything—and we’re just gonna let that sit a bit until the butter melts and we start to smell the oregano on the air.”

“So…we just stand here and watch?”

“You can stir a bit to encourage the butter to melt a little quicker. But otherwise, yeah. Leave it alone. Let the butter and the heat do their thing together.”

“And then what?”

“Well, that should take about a minute or two, so now we can work on assembling our sandwiches. Sadly, you’ve only got Wonder Bread. Next time I’ll pick up a loaf of sourdough or something from Giant Eagle.” Steve waves the spatula through the air. “Or maybe we can make a quick loaf together.”

“Ugh, I hate baking bread.”

“…you know how to bake bread, but not how to make a grilled cheese?”

“…yeah? Baking makes sense. It’s just instructions.”

“I…yeah, okay, that makes sense.” Steve pulls a couple slices of bread from the bag, and starts spreading honey onto each one. “So what’s wrong with baking bread?”

“It’s sticky, and kneading the dough takes so much time, and it’s never the right consistency. I prefer, like, cakes and stuff. Brownies are perfect. Cookies are okay.”

“So: batter over dough, got it.”

“Exactly.” Robin joins Steve in spreading honey onto two slices of her own. “So, why the honey?”

“The sweetness adds some depth of flavor. Honey, butter, and cheese is a flavor profile without compare.” Steve stares in the direction of the pan. “Oh, shit, I forgot the most important ingredient! The garlic. Okay, drop what you’re doing. I should have thought to say this when I was talking about the herbs! The whole point is you want to get all your aromatics going at once, and what is garlic if not the world’s single most powerful aromatic? Nothing, I tell you. Nothing. But that’s okay, we can salvage this.” Steve grabs a couple cloves of garlic, a knife and just fucking…smashes the garlic with the flat of the blade.

“What the fuck…” Robin whispers to herself.

Steve just keeps moving like he isn’t getting up to absolute kitchen-wizardry, peeling away the papery skins from the cloves and tossing their mangled forms into the pan.

“We can give that another minute. The oregano might crisp up, but better to have crispy herbs and garlicky-butter than perfectly toasted herbs and sad, garlic-anemic butter.”

“I’ll just have to take your word on that, dude.”

Steve grins at her. “See, you do trust me.”

“Against my better judgment.” Robin deposits the second honeyed-bread slice on the plate in front of her. “Okay, what next?”

“Cheese!” Steve shakes out a few slices each of the pepper jack and muenster, layering them onto two of the four slices of bread spread out in front of them as the kitchen starts to fill with the scent of herbs and garlic. Robin’s cooked with garlic before, but usually she just chops it up and dumps it into the pot or pan along with everything else, so she’s never had the experience of smelling it on its own. She’s shocked by how much the scent makes it smell like a whole gourmet meal is already close to completion. She thinks back to every time she’s ever been over someone’s house while their mom was cooking and said something like wow, that smells great, Mrs. Johnson, and wonders if the only thing that’d actually been on the stove at that point was some garlic and herbs.

Robin shakes the thought from her head as she realizes Steve’s been monologuing. “…at this point you’ll want to turn the heat up a little.”

Robin nods again like she’s been following along this whole time. “Sure. Okay. Sandwich into butter, that makes sense.”

“Not sandwich time quite yet. Not a closed one, anyway. We want to be able to watch the cheese reach its melting point.” Steve drops two open-faced bread-with-cheese not-yet-sandwiches into the pan side by side, before reaching to turn the knob on the stove up to ‘5’. “Now we wait.”

Robin leans an elbow against the counter, staring intently at the sizzling pan. “How long?”

Steve shrugs. “Until the cheese starts to melt, or until it feels right. Some cheese melts more quickly, and some breads toast faster than others. You’re kind of aiming for the middle point of melty-cheese and golden-toasty-bread.”

Robin nods, and stares into the pan, fixated. Her grandmother’s voice floats through her head—a watched pot never boils, sweetheart. Robin knows it's an idiom, but she’s only ever had it said to her when she was literally watching a pot, waiting for it to boil. But Steve’s doing the same thing, watching as the garlic in the pan turns golden and crisp, and the butter bubbles and pops, and the edges of the bread begin to brown up.

Out of nowhere, she wishes there was music playing. She misses dancing around Scoops with him after close.

“What’re you humming?”

“Huh?” She hadn’t realized she’d been making any sound.

“The little,” Steve twirls a finger through the air and starts humming back at her, and Robin almost starts laughing.

“Apparently I was humming That’s What Friends Are For.” It had been on the songs on the closing mixtape they’d made together, but at the time she’d mostly added it as a joke.

Steve smiles at her, and it’s soft and cheesy, like the sandwiches sizzling away in the pan. He picks up the melody from her, extending a hand for hers.

“Steve, I’ve got two left feet.”

“Yeah, I know that, Robs,” he says, long-suffering, and takes her hand into his anyway. He resumes his humming, and yanks her into a little slow dance, spinning her around the kitchen like they’re two newly-weds, or care-free teenagers at the prom, blissfully unaware there are portals to hell beneath their feet. Except they’re better than that: two best friends dancing in the kitchen together after saving the world, while one of them teaches the other how to make a grilled cheese sandwich.

Robin takes over humming some of the lines when she thinks the song switches over from Dionne to Elton or Stevie—which she can’t quite bite back a snort at, when the thought drifts through her mind—and they carry on like that. They’re probably not really following the progression of the song, because neither of them are actually singing, but Robin has snatches of the lyrics running through her head as she concentrates on not stepping on Steve’s feet, and letting herself be dramatically dipped at odd intervals.

Steve hums the melody that Robin thinks matches up to knowing you can always count on me, and she finds herself leaning her head against his chest. His arms come up to wrap around her, and she burrows herself into his embrace. There are stupid little tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, but it barely even phases her. She feels no need to reach up and dash them away before someone can sniff out the sign of weakness. It feels silly, almost, to be so worked up about dancing around the kitchen in her sock-feet with this boy she’s barely known for a month, tentatively liked for a few weeks, and has loved for all of seven days. But that’s where she is, and she doesn’t think there’s any place she’d rather be.

Eventually Steve’s voice tapers off, and he slows them to a stop in the middle of the room. She stares up at him, her vision still a little blurry with tears. Steve’s looking down at her like she hung the moon, and leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. It sends the new tears spilling over, and she collapses back into him. “I’m so glad you made it out of there, dingus,” she says into his chest, right over his breastbone, his heartbeat thrumming against her lips.

“Yeah, me too, Bobby.” He squeezes his arms around her tight.

“…do you think the grilled cheeses are done now?” Her voice is still muffled from her face being buried against his chest. For all that she’s been swept away by emotion, she’s still really hungry.

“Mmm, well, it’d be hard for them to be done with only one slice of bread, but they might be ready to close and flip.”

Steve gently disentangles them and shuffles back over to the stove. The cheese does seem to be nicely melted now, and Steve hums in satisfaction, closing each sandwich with the other two honeyed slices of bread, before taking up the spatula again, and flipping each one with a little flourish. Robin cuts her eyes at him “Am I supposed to be impressed by that?”

Steve smirks. “Are you not?”

“Remains to be seen, Harrington. You might be all flair and no substance. The proof is in the pudding.”

“Well, they should be done in another few minutes, so you’ll get a chance to taste for yourself.”

The bread of the cooked side of the sandwich facing up at them is nicely crisped. Buttery and golden—almost brown in the center, and along the edges—and Robin can feel her mouth watering. She won’t say it until she knows for sure, but it certainly looks like one of the best things she’s ever tasted. She wants it in her mouth immediately.

“Cooking involves so much waiting,” she whines.

“So does baking.”

“Yeah, but unless you’re making bread, all of the waiting happens at the end. With cooking you’ve got all these mini waiting times: you’ve got to wait for the water to boil, or the pan to heat. You have to wait for something to cook the right amount before adding the next thing. You have to wait for the actual thing you’re cooking to cook enough on one side and then you’ve got to flip it and wait that same amount of time for it to cook evenly on the other side. It’s maddening! I don’t know how you do it.”

The corners of Steve’s mouth twitch. “I guess I’ve never thought of it like that. And it’s different with something like this, because this is pretty low on prep work. But with most things you always have stuff you can be doing during the waiting times. You have vegetables to chop, or you can get a head start on washing the dishes you used. If whatever you’re making involves having two pans or pots going you can time it so that you’re always doing something in at least one dish. And a lot of stuff involves active waiting. Like, you’ve got to stir the pot every now and then, or you have to slowly add something to the pan. And, I don’t know, I kind of like the pace of it. Having to keep track of all the little variables. It’s soothing.”

Robin squints at him. “You’re a weirdo, Steve Harrington.”

“Am not!”

“Are too! You’re a tiny little weirdo, who managed to convince the entire populace of Hawkins that you’re a cookie-cutter little rich boy. I’m almost impressed.” Robin pokes him in the chest. “You’re a weirdo, and a nerd, and a dork, to boot!” She’s grinning so wide again her cheeks ache. “And you’re my favorite person.”

“Well you’re my favorite person and you are also a weirdo, so there!”

“Stevie, I think we all already knew I was a weirdo.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” Steve picks up the spatula again and carefully shuffles the sandwiches from their warm, buttery home. “Stuff your face so I don’t have to hear you yap any more,” he says. There’s a touch of faux-annoyance in his tone, but there’s no edge to it, and Robin can see a smile just as wide as her own plastered on his face.

“Okay, gimme the goods, Harrington.” She makes grabby hands at the chipped plate he’s deposited the first sandwich onto.

“Alright, alright, hold your horses.” Steve hands the plate to her, finishes scooping his own sandwich from the pan, and turns the heat off. He stares down at the plate in his own hand with a considering look. “I think we can skip the soup; I’ve already spent too much time talking your ear off about the grilled cheese. If I have to walk you through making soup, we’ll be here all week.”

“I know how to make soup!” Robin squawks, a bit offended.

Steve casts another despairing look at the spice cabinet. “See, somehow that’s worse.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at him. “Rude.”

Steve holds up his free hand in surrender. “Hey, I’m just of the opinion that if people are taking the time to make food for themselves it should taste good.”

“You've had soup here before!”

“Yeah, and I’ve also been concussed all week!”

“Rude!” She shouts again. She flaps her hands in his face. “And, I’ll have you know that my French onion soup is amazing!”

Steve narrows his eyes. “I cannot accept that. There is no thyme to be found here.”

“What is your obsession with thyme?”

“It’s not an obsession! It’s a spice cabinet staple!”

“Ugh, whatever. Let’s eat before I murder you out of sheer hunger.”

“I don’t like the link you’re making between those two concepts.”

Robin pats a hand on his cheek as she walks past him to the tiny table tucked against the kitchen wall. “Don’t worry, babe. The giant meat monster put me off of cannibalism.”

“Thanks,” he mutters after her. “That’s so comforting.”

Robin folds herself into one of the vinyl chairs at the table, and Steve drops into the one across from her. She picks the grilled cheese up off the plate with careful fingers, grease immediately welling up from the soaked bread and running down her fingers.

It smells…divine, actually. The bread is perfectly crisp, and she can smell the garlic wafting from it. She leans forward to take a tentative bite, careful of burning herself, and can’t bite back the full-throated moan that pours out of her. Garlic and honey break out across her tongue, followed by the heat of the pepper, and the fatty goodness of the cheeses. “Oh my God,” she groans, fully ignoring the etiquette of waiting to swallow before talking as she speaks around her mouthful. “I’m in love with you,” she says to the sandwich, and she thinks she’s going to cry. There might be actual tears welling up again. This sandwich is better than most orgasms she’s hand—and sure, maybe she doesn’t really know what she’s doing with herself on that front, but up until this moment she also didn’t know what she was doing when it came to making a grilled cheese sandwich, so it feels like a totally reasonable to comparison.

“So…you like it, huh?”

Robin’s head jerks as she tears her gaze away from the sandwich and looks over at Steve, who has a giant, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Oh, shut up, asshole.”

“I’m not the one practically orgasming at the table, Bobs.”

“Am not.”

“You definitely are. I’m flattered, really. I didn’t realize my prowess extended this far.”

Robin flaps a hand in his face. “Ew, disgusting! Stop that!”

Steve throws his head back and cackles. “Oh my god, the look on your face!” He reaches up to wipe away a stray tear, and tilts his head back down to shoot her a fond look. “Seriously, though, I’m glad you like it.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but smiles at him anyway. “Yeah, thanks for making it, dingus.”

Steve smiles right back. “Anytime, dingo.”

Robin takes another bite. In this bubble of space, with a song on loop in her head, a smile on Steve’s face, and the taste of the world’s best grilled cheese on her tongue, Robin thinks that maybe, just maybe, everything is going to be alright.

[maaarshieee]

⎯⎯ ୨ This Guy's In love With You Pare ୧ ⎯⎯

ੈ♡˳ Alhaitham x Male!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 6.9k words ┊ Fluff + Crack + Hurt/comfort *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

written as part of @yae-publishing-house's MODERN AU EVENT! yeah i made it into a school thing as well BUT THE SONG I BASED IT OFF WAS IN A SCHOOL SETTING... the song is the title, made by 'parokya ni edgar',,, we need more male reader content and this song came across my yt reccs once again so i HAD to write smth based off it,, have a good day/night!! ALSO THIS GOES TO MY FELLOW PINOYS,,, kausapin nyo naman ako tangina HAHAHA,, pare means bro/dude,, honestly i think this isn't good enough but huddsa,, long fic hehe (more in tags 💕)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: gay struggles, in denial of gay feelings AHAH, teens but same personalities, oblivious!reader, brief misunderstanding (reader is thought to be against gays), slight angst if you squint near the end, finding out your sexuality in the worst way possible /j, ooc alhaitham?, a whiplash of events and memories??? HAHAHAHA

"I'm telling you, that guy likes— loves you, dude."

Those words seemed to slow down time for you, the book in your hand long forgotten as your heart leaped up your throat. Heat spreads throughout your chest, creeping up your neck and to your cheek, and you aren't sure if it's from embarrassment from your friend's, Kaveh, assumption, or rage for such bullshit ideas he had started sprouting out of his good-for-nothing mouth. Blinking incredulously at Kaveh, who was, surprisingly, staring back at you with a rather serious expression, you shook your head in disagreement, glaring at the blonde beside you. When Kaveh said that you two needed to talk about something urgent, you should've known it was just one of his annoying antics, dragging you hurriedly all the way to the rooftop of your school for a silly joke.

With a soft sigh escaping your lips as your mind finally processed his nonsense, you threw a punch at Kaveh's unsuspecting arm, making him yelp in pain and glare back at you. "Hey! What the hell is that for!? I'm serious, you know!?" He hissed in pain, rubbing his aching shoulder as you proceeded to read once again, rolling your eyes. You couldn't believe you skipped lunch just for this, now you're hungry and distracted. Closing your book with a slam, you hit the hard cover against your forehead.

The burn on your cheeks hasn't left as your thoughts lingered on Kaveh's words. Alhaitham? Your long-time best friend? Love you? The thought seemed so absurd when Alhaitham acts like he could barely tolerate you. He was a student of high honors, always on top and taking the rightful title of Valedictorian. Alhaitham, without much effort, was impeccably famous all over school, both for his flawless marks and impressive looks, and his rather arrogant personality, mixed in with his logic-based mentality. Even if he wasn't well-liked across the school for his harsh comments and condescending impression of everyone, girls and boys alike couldn't help but swoon at his handsome but cold charms. And you? Well, you're just a normal student in the same school, with somewhat decent grades. One of the only reasons you haven't failed as much as you would've thought was because of Alhaitham. He told you one day that since he's your 'friend', he's obligated to at least ensure you won't drop out of school and have presentable grades for when you're bound to go to college. You weren't famous either, and there wasn't really anything about you that stands out, other than being Alhaitham's only friend, inside and outside of your school.

Plus, the only reason you and Alhaitham have stuck together for this long is that you've been friends since childhood, your parents being very close with one another and so the connection you've created ever since was difficult to sever now. Not like neither of you wants to part anyways, so you've grown fond of each other over the years, even if Alhaitham wasn't very expressive of it, so it would leave others to wonder if the two of you are truly friends or not. Both of you would always bicker, with Alhaitham scolding you for not taking your studies seriously and you remarking about him studying too much. Being with him only felt natural, being by his side a majority of the time you spent at school and home, letting him study at the seat next to you while you did anything you wanted to. Study sessions always included him, as well as lunch breaks, the end of school, holidays, and summer.

"You're thinking about him right now, are you?" Kaveh's voice snapped you back to reality, jerking your head away from the cover of your book as your eyes narrowed at the smug expression he wore on his face, arms crossed. "Don't tell me you love him too?"

Like a ticking time bomb, you could hear your heart pound against your ribcage in your ears, faint ringing in the distance, before your brain suddenly exploded at his accusation, your mouth forming into a snarl. "What!? Are you crazy!? We're both guys, Kaveh!" Although you were scowling at your friend that sat beside you, fuming at his nonsense blabbering, the heat on your face only intensified, and Kaveh was quick to take notice, teasing you even more. There was no way you'd like Alhaitham! Sure, he's been part of your life for so long that being without him feels utterly wrong, that you'd seek his company and would choose him over everyone else, doesn't mean you have romantic affections towards your best friend! That was just it, best friends, completely platonic and only favoring him more due to the time you've spent together, and knowing each other better than anyone else. And you're (somewhat) certain Alhaitham shares the same sentiment.

Kaveh was just being ridiculous, and you've had enough of it. You're going to prove to him that your best friend doesn't harbor feelings for you in that way, only seeing you as a trustworthy companion worthy of his time and friendship. With a scoff, you stood up from where sat, leaving Kaveh sputtering curses under his breath from your punches.

Sunlight peeked through the curtains of your room, dust and particles dancing from the light it brought as the cool wind made the plants sitting on your window sill bob and flutter. Right outside your door, you could hear the faint chattering of your family all across the living room, watching a comedy movie together, without you. Usually, you'd never miss out on the chance to be with your family to bond with them... But the past few days have left you in a daze and chaotic realization. You couldn't believe that you were saying this but... Kaveh may be actually right. Standing motionlessly in your bathroom, facing the mirror inches away from your face whilst your hands gripped the edges of the marble sink, your brows furrowed and eyes unfocused as you thought about your observations on Alhaitham, cold water dripping down your face.

At school, you've begun paying much more on everything Alhaitham does. From the way he talks, looks at people, reactions when others try talking to him, and certain things you do to get a rise from him. And to your horror, you've found out that Alhaitham does favor you over others, just not in the way you originally thought of.

Alhaitham has always looked at other people with this layer of frostiness no matter who they are, though he still does regard teachers and elders with a minute sense of respect, his eyes were still sharp as ever, calculating and impassive. But when he turns to look at you, you've taken note of how his eyes ever-so-slightly softened at the sight of you, the ice that would freeze strangers with a mere glance would melt, and instead of gazing at you with simple familiarity, you could sense a sort of fondness in his eyes as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. What surprised you the most was when you often caught him staring at you— more specifically; your lips, when he had thought your attention was somewhere else, and not on him. Sometimes, he'd even subtly glance at your lips whilst you spoke to him, then return, maintaining eye contact with you, as if he was hinting at something he desired to do with them...

Alhaitham would typically avoid any sort of physical touch from others, and neither does engage in it. Why should he when he barely knew them, nor the fact that it was completely unnecessary? But when you wrap your arms around his shoulders as you walk down the halls together, nudge him with your elbow or lean against his body, he never spares you a glance, nor pushes you away. He never does, in fact, he seemed to rather indulge himself with your touch, relishing the warmth your hands bring and sometimes even initiating these touches himself. From wiping away messy crumbs from your lips, gently but firmly grabbing your wrist to lead you to the library where he always is, and pinching your cheek to wake you from your slumber to prevent you from getting caught by the teacher. You also noticed that he'd grow a tad bolder on some days, his touches lingering on your body, but would quickly return his hand to himself, flipping a page of the book he was reading. But you could tell, it was written all over his face, that he longed to touch you for longer periods, perhaps even hold you in his arms... Though, he didn't, not wanting to risk being the cause of making you uncomfortable.

You knew Alhaitham was very aware of how others would only come toward him to attain knowledge and assistance from one of the most brilliant students of the academy, hoping that if they managed to befriend him, their grades would exponentially increase! One thing they never took into consideration, though, is if they were up to Alhaitham's standards. But what are Alhaitham's standards? Does a person have to be sophisticated and at his level of smartness to befriend him? No, of course not, he could care less about who's smart or not, but no one will ever reach up to his very specific standards because, simply put, his standard is you. If Kaveh hadn't opened your eyes to this perspective of your dear best friend, you would've mistaken everything he has done for you as simple things friends do for each other. How come you haven't noticed it before? Were you so oblivious to this fact that you never caught wind of the double meaning of his actions that he only seemed to do for you? Using the excuse that you've never dated anyone yet was even too foolish! You hadn't realized that to everyone, it was fairly obvious and that it was only you who hadn't recognized that his feelings were more than platonic.

Hell, even your parents knew and they didn't even tell you! Cruel, you felt utterly betrayed by everyone you knew. But you were ultimately more upset at yourself. Seriously, who would buy you something that you had offhandedly mentioned a few years back, something that even you had forgotten, and give it to you on your recent birthday? Who else would buy you your favorite treats and snacks whenever he passes by a convenience store on the way to your house? Alhaitham would only ever agree if you were the one to ask him to help you with your studies— everyone else will be ignored and rejected. Alhaitham would only ever hear out criticism if it's from you. Alhaitham would always let things you did that didn't bide with the rules of the academy slide, pretending that you totally didn't accidentally break one of the bathroom doors with a click of his tongue and a brief scolding to be more careful, before pacing away from the crime scene.

You, you, you— it's always been you. Your belief that Alhaitham would never fancy a girl because his taste was too refined was a swing and a whole fucking miss from the actual truth, hitting you with the force of an oncoming truck. He wasn't interested in girls, not because the girls in the academy never aligned with his type, no, it was because he was fucking gay!

And you should've known better than to convey to Kaveh every single realization you've gathered throughout the span of a whole week, taking pleasure in watching you have an internal crisis at your conundrum. "I told you, and you didn't believe me!" Kaveh had a smug smirk on his lips that you longed to smack off his face. "Alhaitham is really fucking gay for you, bro." He relished your exasperated reactions, both hands on your face as he laughs out loud, slapping his knee. You buried your face further into your hands the more Kaveh teased you, face practically on flames on how hot it burned. A thought struck you, and you pulled your hands away from your face, eyes meeting the swaying leaves of potted plants that were littered across the rooftop of the academy (courtesy to Tighnari), the impending summer heat prickling the skin of your face, blinking away the brightness of your surroundings.

"Why hasn't he confessed to me then?" You asked no one in particular, eyes trailing back to your hands. Kaveh, who was stuffing his face with his lunch that he had brought up to the rooftop, without missing a beat, replied; "Because you're stupid enough to not see he's head over heels on you so he thinks you're straight." Frowning, you turned your head toward him with a raised brow, confused. "Think? But I am straight." Kaveh paused for a brief moment, before letting out a humored snort and shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah right." That was his only comment and this earned another angered punch on his arm.

"Agh! Stop punching me when I'm only stating facts!" Kaveh huffed, rubbing his bruising arm once more, before smirking at you again, pointing a finger at you. "But with how much you're paying attention to him and acting weirdly, he'd confess to you sooner or later."

What he said made your heart race, because you had your own growing suspicions, as much as you'd hate to admit it. The moment Alhaitham detected your growing awareness of his affections toward you and hadn't distanced yourself from him upon revelation, he was becoming more audacious. Just a few minutes ago, before you ran off with Kaveh up the stairs, Alhaitham's managed to caress your cheek with the bullshit excuse that there was something on your face, and you knew that he wasn't hiding his true intentions either anymore, enjoying seeing you at a loss of words when his hand rested on the small of your back to lead you somewhere instead of typically grabbing your wrist, or compliment you out of the blue, even if you didn't do anything particularly outstanding.

It was so natural for Alhaitham, to let his actions speak so loudly what he truly felt without a trace of shame in his handsome features (wait, since when did you start thinking he's handsome?), with a confident poise, honeyed words that were a huge contrast to his stone cold character would roll off his tongue so smoothly that you'd find yourself drowning in his intense emotions. It throws you off, catches you off guard, makes your head all fuzzy, and then suddenly, you're hyper-aware of everything he does. Just for how long was he waiting for you to notice, so he could proceed without such excessive caution? He's been hanging out in your house every day, after every school, doing nothing in particular together. Since when has Alhaitham undoubtedly fallen for you? Understanding the only possible truth that Alhaitham had never spoken to you of his true feelings was because he was, what, afraid to risk a friendship that has lasted since you were children? It still baffles you to this day.

Despite Alhaitham's actions, you find yourself... yearning for more. How come? Well, you're certainly not gay. Perhaps you just enjoyed the attention he gave you? (He's with you every day, and doesn't pay mind to others. All of his attention has always been on you.) Perhaps you were just reassured that Alhaitham truly did like you and didn't think of you as a horrible person that he's stuck with? (Wait, since when, were you insecure—?) Whatever, it was, it isn't because you're gay! You don't reciprocate those romantic feelings on your best friend (how can you be so sure?)!

After a long, unbearable silence, you leaned back against the wall and ran your hand through your hair, heaving a deep sigh. This was all Kaveh's fault. Ever since he said those not-so-bullshit words to you, you've never been so conflicted about what you think of Alhaitham, and, unfortunately, of yourself. You weren't even sure if you were straight or not because you'd never had a crush on a girl because Alhaitham was the one hogging most of your attention.

"Yeah, I know."

Tonight is the night you will die.

And it is all your parents' fault.

They just had to ask Alhaitham over for dinner, and your mother had to suggest that he should sleep over for the night. Right after you told them that you had finally realized his feelings for you too! They mean well, that's for sure, but holy hell, you're about to lose your mind with how nervous you are. It wasn't the first time Alhaitham would be sleeping over at your house, but it was his first time sleeping over with both of you aware of one's feelings for the other. The urge to scream and run off by jumping out of your window has never been stronger. But you stayed, already taking out the extra mattress your family bought for Alhaitham's use whenever he stayed over, his pillows and blankets, placing them right on the floor, next to your bed. Tidying up your bedroom distracts you, straightening your sheets and comforter, and watering your plants. By the time you finished, your mother called you down for dinner and to open the door for your best friend.

Though you were originally anxious about Alhaitham's sleepover, you knew you could trust Alhaitham not to step over the line and make you feel uncomfortable. You were certain that it was the opposite of what Alhaitham would want, and that even if he does harbor romantic feelings for you, he would never force it upon you in a way that would leave you to tears. So you pretended it was as if you were unaware once again, acting how you'd normally do when Alhaitham would come over; excited and already dragging him inside your home to greet your parents (he calls your parents 'auntie' and uncle' and it was the last nail of your coffin filled with ever-so-late awareness).

And dinner was the same as always, filled with happy chattering and laughter, all of you not minding Alhaitham's bluntness nor his ramblings once one of your parents brought up a topic that piques his interest. They've known Alhaitham for as long as you have, growing fond of the boy as if he was their own. And you can tell that he shares the view, given how he was softly smiling the whole time you had dinner. After that, the two of you went straight to your bedroom when your mother rejected both of your offers to help in the kitchen and began talking about anything that comes to mind; be it school, plans for the next few days, a hobby, interesting facts or your annoying friend, Kaveh. At this point and time, the unspoken feelings he has for you completely slipped from your mind as the comfortable presence of your best friend settles beside you, listening to you rant about a new video game that was going to be released in summer, beaming in excitement, soliciting a quiet chuckle from Alhaitham.

But Alhaitham had to bring you back to reality once the both of you were tucked in comfortably in your own beds, ready to finally call it a day and just fall asleep. His words, though soft and low, his soothing voice turned into unpleasant ringing in your ears with the words he spoke. "Hey, are you still awake?" It was a simple question, but it made you stiff on your bed, squeezing your eyes shut to hide the fact that you were still awake, biting on your bottom lip. "I have something to confess to you." The pits of your stomach twisted as your heartbeat quickened as you had a sliver of hunch about what was about to transpire. Then, like a bucket of cold water was thrown all over your body, the grip you had on your sheets tightened when you heard the hushed shifting of his clothes, his presence nearing your form, your back facing him. "I like you more than you could ever imagine." He whispered against your ear, his hot breath hitting your skin, shivering upon the contact. Your breath hitched at his confession, your head spinning at how hot your cheeks burned, but you kept your eyes closed, not giving a single care anymore even if he knew that you were still awake. For a while, the both of you stayed like that, waiting for something to happen, for one of you to make a move with bated breaths... Before Alhaitham eventually pulled away from your 'sleeping' form, a small sigh left his lips. "C'mon, wake up." Alhaitham persisted, "Stop pretending to be asleep." He poked your side, and your body twitched, now scowling in annoyance and further embarrassment at your ticklishness. He tried a few more times, but you continued to ignore him, trying your best to fall asleep.

Fine then, Alhaitham huffed through his nose. He could deal with you tomorrow morning, after all. So he went back to his bed, lay down, and fell asleep with a smile on his lips. What Alhaitham didn't expect was for you to fully ignore him for the next few days. Upon waking up, he was surprised to hear from your father that you had woken up quite early before he could and managed to silently prepare yourself for school without waking him up. When Alhaitham got to school, he spent his classes all alone in his seat, your assigned chair that was always beside him always empty in every class the two of you shared. You've skipped classes beforehand, but he never thought you'd skip classes you had together. And while you'd often hang out with Kaveh on the rooftop to eat lunch, he was surprised to see Kaveh at their usual table without you, with Kaveh not knowing where you were because he had not seen you for the whole day. It's been like that ever since his verbal confession, with you skipping classes, exchanging seats with other students just to be far away from Alhaitham, and even not going to school at all. It may not show, but he was extremely worried.

It really wasn't your intention to avoid Alhaitham. You genuinely wanted to talk to him after what happened in your little sleepover, but being near Alhaitham would send your heart into a fucking frenzy and you'd be too lightheaded to properly speak to him. For the sake of your own survival, you had to avoid him until you've maintained a clear head around him. You didn't mean to worry him, and you definitely didn't mean to give him the wrong signals. After every school, he'd stop by your house, asking if you were home or if you were okay, and your parents would continuously deny him from entering your home as per your wishes. You kept leaving his messages on read too, the guilt slowly accumulating in your heart until it was about to burst. Messages from Kaveh told you that Alhaitham hasn't notably been doing well, lunches spent worrying about you or studying even more, and bags forming under his eyes as he thought of the possibilities as to why you were avoiding him.

Honestly? It sucked. You don't even remember the reason why you're avoiding him anymore in the first place, but the butterflies that filled up your stomach keep fluttering at the mere thought of Alhaitham, your heart beating so fast you believe you were about to die from a heart attack. Just why were you feeling like this? It was as if you were some lovesick girl that couldn't approach her crush— you dropped the glass of water you were holding in your hand, and the sound of shattering glass was akin to how your view of your entire life has shattered right before your eyes.

Was that it? The reason why your thoughts would race when you see him? The reason why your heart pounds so hard when he sends a smile your way, only for your eyes to see? Why you intrinsically stick by his side when you find him in the midst of a crowd? Why you feel much more relaxed with him than being in a room with a girl who was hinting that she liked you? Is that the reason why your mind has always been infested with the thought of your best friend? That when you go out with others, you'd be thinking wistfully of Alhaitham because he wasn't there with you? The constant longing, the envy you feel when girls stare for far too long, the absolute pride you feel when he wins at international academic contests. You felt goosebumps form on your forearms as you gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. Holy fuck... You were...

"Sweetie?" The sweet, gentle voice of your mother entered the premises of the kitchen with a small gasp escaping her lips when she caught sight of the shattered glass littered across the floor, rushing towards your paling form. "Are you okay? What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost!" She queried worriedly, wiping away the cold sweat that formed on your forehead as you wrapped your arms around your mother, bathing in her loving presence and burying your face onto your shoulder. "Dear me, you're shaking! Just what happened?" Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, you finally found your voice to speak.

"I think... I'm gay..."

Silence...

Then you heard your mother hold back a snort, and your heart broke to a million pieces at this utter betrayal. But she wasn't making fun of you, the hug she was giving you says that much, but she was quite amused that it took you this long to figure it out. Caressing the back of your head with her hand and a tender kiss on your temple, she cooed lovingly as she felt your tears wet her shoulders, reassuring as much as she can that she accepts you wholeheartedly, you were her son after all, nothing could ever change that fact. Just as your breathing was beginning to sync with hers, gradually calming down on your own terms in your mother's arms, she suddenly whispered; "We've known since you were little."

You choked on your spit, startled at her as-a-matter-of-fact tone of voice, pulling away from the hug as you stared at her with wide, unbelieving eyes.

"What do you mean by that!?"

For the first time that week, you finally met Alhaitham outside of school.

You were on your way to the grocery store to buy some ingredients before tonight's dinner, not paying much attention to your surroundings as your head was lost in the clouds. The skies were painted with warm orange, red and yellow hues as the sun began its descent, the moon peeking around the corner for its rise. Kids across the street were beginning to retreat back into their homes, waving their goodbyes and promising to play with each other once again the next day. It made you feel nostalgic, it felt like it was just yesterday when you were as carefree as the children in your neighborhood, playing with friends. Well, if you count running across the grass fields while Alhaitham read a book from afar as 'playing with friends'. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, though it was quickly wiped off when a hand suddenly gripped your wrist with such force you thought that they were going to break it. A sense of urgency washed through your body as the peace and tranquility of your walk were ruined by the unexpected perpetrator who grabbed you, but before you could land a punch on their face, you were swift to stop yourself from doing so upon recognizing who it was.

"Alhaitham, what the hell— hey! Let go, man!"

You wriggled in his grasp when he started dragging you away from the direction of the grocery store, lightly hitting his back when his grip only tightened on your wrist, panic rising in your mind. You had no intention of dragging your avoidance on Alhaitham any longer, deciding that you'd come face to face with him once you start attending classes completely to make up for your absences and skipping, but you hadn't anticipated that you'd meet him on your way to buy some ingredients, much less drag you to the park. Eventually, you gave up on trying to escape confrontation with Alhaitham, the guilt that you'd been ignoring for the past week gnawed on your insides as you followed him on the familiar path. You recognized this part of the park, at the edge of the forest where your parents would chastise you for always trying to cross the rickety fence that separates the park and the forest. Being the rowdier child, you'd always try to climb the fence only to be slapped in the face by Alhaitham's small hand. His steps finally came to an end in front of the lone tree that the fence had to swerve around to not chop it down. It was a tree you were fond of, climbing up its branches just to shake off leaves onto Alhaitham since he liked to read under its shade, giggling at his angered yells.

Letting go of your wrist, Alhaitham crossed his arms and turned to face you with a very cold look on his face, a type of expression he has never directed at you before, sending shivers up your spine. You couldn't help but give him a sheepish smile that wavered under his suffocating gaze, rubbing the back of your neck. "Haha... Hey..."

"You have a minute to give sufficient reasons, not excuses, as to why you've been avoiding me for the whole week; so much so that you're willing to risk your academic records for the sake of not coming eye to eye with me," Alhaitham demanded, not asked, of you, his eyes narrowing at your anxious fidgeting. Swallowing the shame that rose up to your throat, you opened your mouth to try and explain yourself, but the only thing you could make out was a small meek noise, before shutting your mouth once more, eyes boring onto the grass that flowed with the wind. A minute has passed and neither of you has said a single word, Alhaitham's stare slowly intensifies with every passing second, and you shrink down on yourself as the impulse to run away, to avoid him again grows more and more tempting. Just as you were about to open your mouth to attempt to speak, Alhaitham let out a long, drawn-out sigh, his expression once filled with seriousness morphing into a much somber one, averting his gaze from you. Caught off guard by the sudden change of mood, the words on the tip of your tongue were blown off by the wind at what he said in a low, gentle tone as he took a step toward you. "I... Apologize if I made you extremely uncomfortable with my confession..."

Darkness was slowly engulfing the skies as the stars began to twinkle down on you, faint chirping of crickets can be heard all around you as fireflies, one by one began lighting up on the spot where you stood. Ah, you remember now. During your childhood, you'd throw rocks at Alhaitham's window, in the dead of night, to sneak him out to the park, to the spot you'd always hang out at the edge of the forest to watch the fireflies light up the night sky, dancing and fluttering around the tree where you shared a lot of memories together. You'd force Alhaitham to catch fireflies with you, and every time he'd begrudgingly agree, you'd be graced with the image of a usual stoic boy turn into a carefree, fun-loving boy that laughed as much as you did, running around to catch more fireflies that you then roll onto the grass as he trips. Your heart clenched at those memories, your eyes now staring deeply into his teal eyes that glinted with indefinite shades of maroon, the sincerity sinking deep into your skin as he continued to speak, the yellow lighting highlighting his pretty face, filled with regret and a forlorn frown etched on his lips. "I just want you to know that you needn't return my affections for you and that I would never force them onto you. After all, I've known you forever and... I would love to keep the friendship we've made..." If it wasn't for fireflies lighting up your darkening surroundings, you wouldn't have seen how his eyes began to glisten, the way his hands lightly trembled as he forced himself to stop it.

"You still have a friend in me that you can depend on." Bowing down his head, his bangs completely covering his eyes, hands both clenched into fists at his sides. "So, please, if you could just forget everything I said and..." Everything after that part became muffled in your eyes, your emotions fluctuating inside your mind. But you know for certain that you weren't about to reject Alhaitham, no, not when your heart thrummed at the thought of his touch, not when the tips of your ears burned at the sight of him after so long. The years you've spent with Alhaitham were only filled with meaningful experiences with one another, and not short of joy. There were times of disagreements, of days where the days were filled with rain as the two of you loathed one another with such intensity, in the end, you would make up and fix what needed to be fixed, learning from past mistakes and understanding each other on a whole different level. You don't spend much time apart, and when you do, both of you long for each other, as if a piece from a puzzle has been torn off, and once that piece was put back to its rightful place, it will cling onto each other for as long as they could, basking with the other's presence and filling the void of loneliness that drilled into your hearts.

Without a doubt, you love Alhaitham, you've always had, and you regrettably only learned only now, letting him go through years of yearning and then heartbreak for your cowardice. So, in the heat of the moment, with the light that's faintly emitting from each firefly that danced around like stars in the night blurring into the background as you took a step forward, inching your faces close to each other until you could feel his breath against your lips. Alhaitham's breath caught in his throat, about to recoil from your proximity, only to be stopped by your hands holding onto his broad shoulders. After a brief moment of hesitance, you closed your eyes and closed the gap between you, your arms slowly wrapped around his neck as you pressed your body against his. He went frigid under your touch, eyes blown wide at the sensation of your lips pressed against his, clearly inexperienced, but eager to express that you had struggled to show him in simple actions and through words. When you were about to retract from the kiss, suddenly becoming insecure at his lack of reciprocation, Alhaitham's hands firmly gripped your hips, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss that you had initiated, by your own free will, and guided your lips to properly kiss until the fuzziness on your lips traveled all the way up to your head, growing weak on your knees.

Once you've finally parted to breathe some air, you buried your face onto his neck, your lips trembling at how good he was at kissing. Geez, what the hell? You could barely think straight after that. Maybe it was the sudden spike in adrenaline flowing through your veins when Alhaitham had dragged you back into this old spot of your childhood, now came crashing down after the kiss full of bliss as you lean your weight against Alhaitham's body for support, his arms wrapping around your torso. Letting out a shaky breath, you murmured against his skin, "'M sorry for avoiding you... I hadn't meant it— I just grew afraid for no reason when you suddenly confessed, even if I knew you had romantic feelings for me for quite some time..." The grip you had on his clothes tightened as your voice grew more and more silent, barely above a whisper at this point, and yet Alhaitham heard you loud and clear, amidst the loud chirping of crickets and the sounds of leaves swaying along the wind,

"I drowned in so many emotions, I was so overwhelmed just at catching a glimpse of you... Then I realized that, yeah, I'm fucking gay too." He let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in, his embrace tightening around you reassuringly, encouraging you to go on. Choking back a sob, you shamefully tried to stop your tears from falling, heart painfully pounding against your chest, "And it fucking upsets me for not realizing that I've loved you from the start, that in my whole life, I thought I was straight when in actuality, I was just oblivious with how I felt towards you... I'm so sorry, Alhaitham..."

Ah, so that's how it is. It wasn't sheer disgust of his feelings for you, nor he had made you extremely uncomfortable. It pains him that he had thought of the worst, jumping to conclusions without further proof to solidify his assumptions on how you felt. He had boasted that he thinks based on rationality and logic only, but when it comes to you? His mind becomes a jumbled mess of emotions, it was as if his heart took full reign of his mind and body. "Please don't apologize, I understand." He whispered softly, his hand caressing the back of your head and playing with the hem of your shirt. He could feel your heart beating against his, body shaking as you held on desperately to his clothes. "I apologize for confessing at such an unpleasant time, for making you go through such a rough actualization of your sexuality..." The rumble of his chest at each word he spoke was enough to reduce your cries into nothingness, sniffling and wiping your tears with your hands.

With a soft grunt, you laid your cheek against his shoulder, completely melting in his arms the both of you got down on the ground, Alhaitham leaning against the tree and you on his lap. "Okay, let's stop apologizing to one another... I think we're even now..." Alhaitham agreed with a nod, keeping you close to him as he watched the fireflies finally disappear into the night, the moon now high above the skies. Pulling your head away from his shoulder, you peered into Alhaitham's eyes, a curious glint in your eyes. "Where did you learn how to kiss like that?" You questioned him, knowing full well that he's never been in a relationship, both due to his personality and adoration towards you. "I read books." His response left you speechless, staring at him with pure disbelief. Alhaitham only raised a brow at you, the corners of his lips curling up into an amused smile. "What? It proved to be effective, right? You were shaking against me after we parted."

Heat blossomed all throughout your face and onto the tips of your ears as you glared daggers at Alhaitham, strongly flustered upon recalling your kiss. True, it did leave you quivering, but he didn't have to rub it in your face! "You fucking nerd..." You grumbled under your breath, slapping a hand on his arm. Stupidly enough, you felt butterflies annoyingly flutter inside your stomach when Alhaitham let out a wholehearted laugh at your reaction, something you haven't heard in ages suddenly emerging out of nowhere. Perhaps it was the influence of the nostalgia of his memorable spot you've revisited after all those years, it was a place where you remember most of his laughs, giggles, and bright smiles.

God, you hated love. It was so sappy and cliche and it makes you impeccably dumb. Ugh. You could feel yourself cringing at the words you were about to say. "Ah but... that was my first kiss, and you can really tell I'm not really good at it..." Alhaitham hummed in acknowledgment, signaling for you to go on. "Could you... teach me how to kiss? Perhaps give me a live demonstration too?" You suggest, your hand cupping his cheek as you adoringly caressed it. A smug smirk stretched his lips as he leaned his face close to yours once more, only inches apart. "Of course, I'll gladly lend my knowledge to such an eager learner."

And with that, Alhaitham pulled you into a slow, passionate, and loving kiss. Two missing pieces finally put together, languidly moving against each other, taking the other deeper to devour more. The faint vibrations of your phone in your pocket were ignored as the minutes went by. You'll apologize to your parents later on, knowing full well that they'd forgive you without a second thought if they knew you were making out with your childhood best friend in your secret spot in the park.

Well, they don't need to know about that part, but you honestly couldn't care less at the moment, too lost in the bliss of finally, through years of obliviousness, being together, as the world intended you to be.

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[thatstheproblemwithnapkinman]

new fic time

you can read it below the cut here on tumblr or over on ao3

I'm Stuck in this Life, and I'm Stuck in these Pants

Rating:

Not Rated

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

Gen

Fandoms:

Batman - All Media Types

Justice League - All Media Types

Relationship:

Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne

Characters:

Bruce Wayne

Dick Grayson

Clark Kent

Justice League (DCU)

Additional Tags:

Emotional Hurt/Comfort

its crack and hurt/comfort so have fun with that

enjoy the whiplash

no beta we die like jason todd

Dick Grayson Needs a Hug

Dick Grayson Gets a Hug

Dick Grayson joins the Justice League

Hurt Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson Has Eldest Daughter Syndrome

Probably ooc

Bruce Wayne is Trying to be a Good Dad

One Shot

Language: English

Summary:

"Do you want me to join the League?" The League would assume it was an open question, but Bruce knew it was directed at him. This moment was in complete contrast to years of conversations about protecting their identities and keeping their former partnership a secret. He needed to speak up.

"You are one of the best, you deserve the right to choose." He responded, consciously keeping his voice in Batman mode.

aka Dick get chosen to join the League but before he does he has to face his inner demons

Notes:

this started as a crack fic and became hurt/comfort so be aware, it's also the longest single chapter work i have every written at 6082 which is short for some people but me and my adhd tried no beta reader obviously so any mistakes are there for good now. i did a sweep but again, it's tagged and i've warned you so no telling me i spelt something wrong or used the wrong version of there ok *points at you*

Bruce had been working with the Justice League for over a decade, taking solo heroes and turning them into a team. They knew each other's strengths and weaknesses and can bounce off of one another during combat. It took time but they truly were a single unit. He's proud of what they have accomplished.

The rest of the League weren't on the same page. Sure, they all worked well together, but then there's Batman. He kept to himself, was never on the watchtower when he wasn't needed, constantly avoided talking about himself, and looked like he hated being with them. After years of working together, everyone had revealed their identities, some by choice, some accidental. Everyone but Batman. No one in the League knew who he was. They knew very little about him, other than that he's completely human (probably) and that he's from gotham. He doesn't even let them in his city, with strict rules about them working there. something about "human rogues" and "dangerous for supers". They disagreed with the rule, but without explicit permission from him, they couldn't enter. And no one was about to argue with him.

The time had come to propose new members for the League. Everyone was allowed to submit up to one person to join, and unless there were any serious objections, they would put it to a vote and the person with the most votes would join the League, provided they wanted to of course. But no one had ever turned down their offer before, who would refuse to join the Justice League?

The majority of the League didn't put anyone forward. Barry had suggested Wally, not as a new member but as his replacement given he was looking to retire from the hero game, and given that Wally had left the Titans recently, was available. Batman had said that would be discussed separately at a second meeting as replacements were a different conversation. No one had spoken otherwise, until the nominations got around to Superman.

"I do have a nomination this year. I've worked with this person a lot and I believe they would be an excellent addition to the League. They have been in the game for almost 10 years and protect an entire city on their own. He truly is one of the best."

A chill went down his spine and Bruce suppressed a shudder. That could apply to multiple people, a lot of heroes have been around for a while. But very few were responsible for a city, and there was only one person he knew that was close with Superman.

“I nominate Nightwing for the League."

Honestly, he was surprised it took this long for Dick to get nominated. He was one of the most capable heroes out there, having worked alongside the League before as both an independent hero and as the leader of the Titans. He worked well with others, as Bruce would know given he was Robin for a decade. He trusted no one more in the world. Batman fought well with the League, but he was constantly thinking about how to work with their moves. watching himself and others, predicting what they would do so he could make sure he wasn't interfered with. But with Nightwing he could just fight. They knew exactly how the other would move, and on instinct could follow through. He knew they would both protect each other.

"...Batman?" Superman broke him out of thought

"Hn"

"Do you object?"

Having him on the team would mean he wasn't alone. He had someone there that immediately understood his plan and was much better at communicating with the others. He would be a bridge, a bridge that provided support for everyone. Bruce would also have an excuse to work with him more. He did sometimes miss the conversations they would have in the field, the snarky jabs at rouges, the smile on his face whenever he managed to make Bruce laugh.

But having Dick on the team put them at risk. It wouldn't be too hard for the League to figure out that they knew each other. They could dig and find a connection to Gotham and then to everyone else. Maybe something he'd say would cause a memory to resurface for one of them, a memory of Batman during the time when Dick wore the cowl, and they could see that Nightwing happened to disappear during that time. It was too risky.

He opened his mouth to object, but no sound came out. Dick had taught him a lot, one of which was to trust him. Dick was his own hero now, and he could weigh up the decision. He deserved the chance.

"No."

"Ok then, as no one else was nominated, that negates voting. Batman, could you give him watchtower access and request him?"

Trying to figure out how he could manage this, he got up and moved over to the console on the side. Dick had watchtower access, they all did, but he went through the process of giving it anyway, all it did was throw you a message saying they already had it, which Bruce dismissed. That was the easy part. bracing himself, he tuned into the comms.

"Oracle."

"What's up batman?" Babs always cloaked her voice, even on the bat exclusive channels, but he could still make out her speech pattern and a sliver of her accent.

"I need you to relay to Nightwing that he is requested in the watchtower."

"Y- yeah." The surprise wasn't hidden at all. "Everything ok? Do you need me to send it to anyone else?"

"No."

"Right, I'll let him know." Static on the line told Bruce that Dick was in the same room and they were discussing it. He was in Gotham that night, helping out while Bruce was with the League, and must have stopped into the watchtower. "Yeah, ok, he's on his way now."

Bruce hung up. He felt bad not thanking her but he had an image to uphold. The League all thought oracle was an AI program, and it would be weird. Not for someone like Clark, who would thank automatic doors half the time. But Batman? People would be worried.

He'd barely made it back to the table when the zeta-tube whirred to life.

"Entering, Nightwing, B-01"

"Wait, hold up, there's a B?"

"I know he isn't Titan anymore but weren't they T?"

"That was really fast, like he was expecting it..."

Bruce tuned them out and turned to face his former partner, now only a few feet away.

"So... why exactly was I requested?"

Complete confidence in his voice. If Bruce didn't know him, he would assume he was comfortable. But he could see the minor tension held in his chest, the way he rubbed his thumb along the side of his index finger, how his footsteps were almost silent to not disturb. Dick was confused, curious, and concerned.

Superman stood up. "We held nominations for a new member, and your name was put forward. We deliberated and would like to extend an invitation to join the League."

Dick stood there. He was completely still and looked in shock, and was staring directly at Bruce. They could see each other's eyes behind their dominoes thanks to the lenses in them, so he could see Dicks locked onto him, narrowed as if to ask 'what the hell is going on?'. If he hadn't opened his mouth, Bruce would've walked over to check on him.

"Do you want me to join the League?" The League would assume it was an open question, but Bruce knew it was directed at him. This moment was in complete contrast to years of conversations about protecting their identities and keeping their former partnership a secret. He needed to speak up.

"You are one of the best, you deserve the right to choose." He responded, consciously keeping his voice in Batman mode.

He was so proud of what Dick had become. He'd outgrown Robin, had gone far beyond what Batman could be, and had truly become the best. No matter how much he tries, it's hard to keep the affection he had out of his tone.

Dick noticed, and softened his posture. He started towards him and Bruce felt the League tense behind him. Normally he wouldn't allow anyone that close without reason, yet to them, here he was, letting this almost stranger into his personal space. Ignoring them, his eyes remained locked onto Dick until he was alongside him, forcing Bruce to turn around and face the League.

Every set of eyes was on him as Nightwing clapped him on the shoulder. The last person who'd tried anything like that had ended up with a batarang in their hand. Batman wasn't a people person and that was to be respected. The rest of the League tensed, prepared for bloodshed that would never come.

"Well, if Big Batsy over here gave me the stamp of approval, I would be insane to reject it immediately, although I am going to need some time to consider."

The majority of the room looked shell shocked as Bruce took his seat and Dick shuffled to stand behind him, resting his arms on Bruce's shoulders.

"I mean, this is a very big decision and I would at least like to discuss it with my team."

Flash spoke up. "But I thought you left the Titans? Wally said it was something about trust issues."

Dick snorted.

"Wally’s right, the endless debates about identities and how valuable they can be started to get on my nerves. If you must know, we disagreed on if I can be truly trusted without revealing my identity, so I chose to leave, along with Wally and Donna. With B over here, I assume you don't share their sentiments." He tugged on the bat ears as he spoke, a gesture he'd been doing since he was Robin, and something they both found comfort in.

The League was still in shock over how Batman was letting someone be near him, let alone play with his cowl. Bruce should've stopped him, kept up the act, but he was tired and he was happy Dick was this comfortable around him, after all the time they spent at a distance.

He sensed the rouse of working alone was coming to an end

Dick was having too much fun.

Sure, he was honoured for the invite, but messing with Bruce in front of the League was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. Of course, he wouldn't jeopardise their identities, but just getting to poke the bear would bring him so much joy. Making the Justice League lose their minds watching this random hero from Blüdhaven get close and personal with Batman and walking away unscathed was the highlight of the year, and it was clear Bruce was also enjoying it.

Well, he was tolerating it, which meant he found comfort in it and didn't growl at him.

He'd take it, after all the years they spent at each other's throats. Dick's later teenage years as both Robin and Nightwing hadn't been the most pleasant. He was a teenaged boy who'd spent every day at school and then came home to be ordered around. He needed his freedom and he'd gotten it, albeit by less than peaceful means. But after he came to terms with being fired, and had recovered from Jason's death, he'd started mending their relationship, and now they were closer than they'd ever been. So he was absolutely going to stand too close to Batman and put the League on edge.

It was even funnier given he'd met most of them before, back when he was Batman. Not that they'd know it, he made an excellent brooding, works alone, Dark Knight Batman. Even as he actively worked with Damian, Tim, Steph, and Babs. But he'd kept up the mythos, kept everything in the dark, and had seamlessly given the mantle back to Bruce once he was ready. As far as the League was concerned, he'd never been here before and was no different than the other ex-Titans.

At least, he hoped that. A hope that was crushed when Hal Jordan opened his mouth.

"Ok, but explain why you have the code B-01 for the zeta tube? The Titans were under T, and as far as I am aware, no one was under B."

This is where the real fun begins.

"Yeah, I've asked B the same thing, but he said it was due to clearance issues, that T had restrictions and I needed to be separate from that. I'm honestly surprised he didn't just throw me in with you guys, make me like 3-6 or something, but he's paranoid and didn't want to risk anyone finding it so..."

This seemed to confuse him more.

"What kind of clearance?"

Dick walked around the side to lean against Bruce, folding his arms and crossing his right leg behind his left.

"Oh, y'know, being able to use the Gotham tubes."

He feigned innocence, knowing the storm that would erupt from those few words. And indeed it did, as shouts echoed around the room in disbelief that someone other than Batman can enter Gotham.

After a few minutes of this, Dick saw something click in Superman's head. Dick had worked with Clark a lot, and had been inspired to take the name Nightwing from him. Clark was the only member of the League that knew Batman had a Robin, although he'd never personally met anyone besides Dick and probably assumed Batman worked alone now. He also knew Clark hadn't pieced together that Nightwing was that Robin, which was surprising given he took his name from a Kryptonian myth that Clark had told him once. But we see what we want to see and as far as everyone was concerned up until this moment, Batman and Nightwing didn't know each other.

But Clark had seen it. He'd seen Robin tug on Batman's cowl. He'd seen how Robin was the only one Batman allowed to get near him. He'd seen Robin's eyes light up telling him the story of Nightwing and Flamebird. Nightwing was Robin. An older, stronger, all-round better fighter and strategist, but still the same little shit he'd always been. The Man of Steel had finally figured it out.

"Robin?"

Silence fell and everyone turned to face Superman.

"Who?" Barry tilted his head like a dog, a move that almost caused Dick to snort at.

"You know, Robin. Batman and Robin? He used to have a 12 year old kid dressed like a traffic light follow him around everywhere..?"

Nothing.

"Wait, did no one else meet Robin?" all eyes remained locked onto him.

Breaking the silence, Diana, who had been quietly watching this unfold, made her way over and stood next to Batman with tension throughout her body.

"Batman-"

"Hold up, Nightwing still hasn't explained anything, like how he can enter Gotham, and who is this team he has if he isn't a Titan anymore?" 

Dick unfolded his arms and placed his hand on Bruce’s shoulder. He gave a subtle squeeze, asking if he could explain. After a second, Bruce shrugged, the signal for yes.

"When I was 9, B took me in and trained me. He taught me how to fight, but he also showed me how to be a detective. Once he knew I could handle myself and be an asset, he let me go out with him. I chose the name Robin and to wear bright colours. We worked together for a decade before I outgrew being his sidekick and became Nightwing, operating solo in Blüdhaven or with the Titans."

"I thought Robin died..." Superman looked straight at Dick, locking eyes with him as if his mask wasn’t there.

This startled the two of them. Maybe Clark knew more than they thought. Bruce shifted under his hand, letting him know he was there. This was still a tough subject for them both, given how their current standing with Jason was. 

“Well, I’m clearly not dead so… Don’t know what to tell you, Supes.”

Clark furrowed his brows and looked down. The journalist was clearly unsatisfied with that response yet chose to let it go. The rest of the League shuffled around, obviously uncomfortable with the latest development. Dick took that as his cue.

“Welp, with that revelation I shall leave and ponder your offer. Good morrow fair Justice League.” Tipping his head into an incredibly dramatic bow and sweeping his arms out, he turned on his heel and headed for the Zeta Tube. He’d had his fun but the mention of Jason had brought him back to reality and he wanted to leave. A nice, long, warm shower awaited him at home.

Pondering was hard. Dick discovered this as he sat in his shower, the water falling on his face. After making his way back to his apartment in Blüdhaven, he’d climbed out of his suit and straight into the shower as his thoughts finally hit him.

Holy shit, he’d been invited to join the League.

He knew he’d been a vigilante for longer than most of the members, save for Batman, Superman, and Captain Marvel. But that still didn’t diminish that fact he was chosen to join THE superhero team. 

Dick loved being on a team. He was a leader by nature but he also liked bouncing ideas between people. He knew he wouldn’t be in a leadership position but he wouldn’t be seen as less. He would be an equal and that was all he needed. Besides, he would be working with Bruce, someone that knew his abilities and just how useful he could be. 

“Oh. Ok, that need for approval will be promptly filed away in the ‘things to bring up in therapy’ folder,” he mumbled to himself. He’d been working on his people pleasing tendencies and desperate need to prove himself and be more, yet clearly not enough. Wally called it his ‘eldest daughter syndrome’ and he couldn’t really disagree. He did put the weight of the world on his shoulders sometimes. But this was why he needed a team, people who he could rely on when needed. People who could help remove some of that weight. People he could trust. The trust issues that came with being a bat never really go away, huh.

He stood up, turning the shower off, and wrapped himself in a towel. There was no point in thinking about it any further. His answer was obvious. He opened the bathroom door and made his way into the main room, where Batman was waiting for him.

“You are so lucky I put a towel on.”

Bruce grunted. Dick rolled his eyes in response.

“Seriously, I could’ve walked out with nothing on and that would have been traumatising to both of us. Imagine me having to explain to everyone why you can’t look at me, how embarrassing that would be.”

“Hn. I came to congratulate you.” Dick couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto his lips at that.

“Thanks B. I'm still a little shocked if I’m being honest. I know I’m not an unknown vigilante, but not only being noticed, but getting nominated and accepted is a big deal.”

Bruce stepped closer, pulling his cowl down and placing his hand on Dick’s shoulder. Dick looked down at the ground, sheepish in the face of actual affection.

“Dick, you have been doing this for longer than almost everyone. You’ve helped save the world countless times and been a beacon of light and hope. Not only to the rest of the world but to me too.”

His head snapped up and he met Bruce’s eyes. After a second it was Bruce that looked down at the floor.

“I know I haven’t always been the best, firing you and acting the way I did after Jason… But you have made me proud, Dick, never forget that.”

Almost without thinking, Dick wrapped his arms around Bruce. Since he’d become Nightwing, they hadn’t been very affectionate with each other. They never really were but when he lived at the manor, when he was Robin, he would find comfort in Bruce’s arms after a bad night on patrol or after he woke from a nightmare. This was one of the few moments of vulnerability they shared and Dick knew to let himself fall into it. He felt pressure on his back, and he was enveloped in the embrace. He didn’t want to let go but knew Bruce wouldn’t if he kept hold. He almost didn’t, wanting to keep this moment going, but Batman had important work to do tonight. Gotham wouldn’t stay quiet for long. 

As if the powers of the universe were listening, beeping echoed from the cowl and the two separated. Bruce grabbed the comm and listened to whatever was going down, before turning to Dick.

“Don’t feel like you must rush this. I trust your judgement and know whatever you decide will be the right choice.” He moved back towards Dick before hesitating. Dick wasn’t sure what he wanted, but after a few seconds, he found his hair being ruffled. Just like when he was Robin. 

The pressure left and with a breeze, Batman was gone. Dick debated throwing his suit on and going to help, but he’d had a long day and needed the sleep. He would catch up with Bruce in the morning, after filing ‘Wanting the feelings he had as Robin’ to his therapy list.

“Has he decided yet?”

Bruce was glad his eyes were covered, otherwise the Flash would’ve seen a very un-Batman-like eyeroll. Wally was settling into the team well after Barry departed a few days prior, but he was clearly impatiently waiting for his best friend to arrive. That is, if Dick chose to join the team at all. It had been a week with no hint of a choice. Bruce didn’t want to push him, this was a big decision, but he also wanted to get the rest of the League to stop asking him. It was as if they were children, poking him and asking ‘are we there yet?’

“He has not, and I will not push him for a response.”

“But he said he would think about it, surely a week is long enough.” Wally paced back and forth as if he was trying to solve a complex math problem. 

“I am aware of that, but it is a big decision.”

“UGH I’m gonna call him, see if I can get him to choose.” He sped over to the tubes, punching in the coordinates for what Bruce assumed was Central City. 

“Recognised, Flash, 0-7.”

“Stupid tower and it’s lack of phone signal. How hard is it to install cell service up here…” His voice fading away as he travelled off the tower, finally giving Bruce room to breathe.

It was his turn for monitor duty, which he was supposed to do with Green Arrow, but had let Oliver off for the night, due to a gala he needed to attend. He himself was supposed to be there but unfortunately Bruce Wayne had come down with a nasty case of the flu and so wouldn’t be attending. The was partly true, Bruce had caught the flu and was suffering because of it, but no one would notice if Batman was quieter than usual. 

The silence he was enjoying was promptly broken by the Zeta Tube announcing the arrival of Clark.

“Entering, Superman, 0-1”

“Hey Batman, how’s the case going?” “Hn.”

“Good good. Don’t worry, I’m just here to pick up something before heading back to work. You’ll be left to your silence again soon.”

Bruce turned back to his files as Clark moved around the Watchtower. Of course, he wasn’t working on the file, but rather keeping track of where Clark was in the room. He was awful at keeping his emotions off his face, and Bruce knew he wanted something. No doubt it was Zeta access to Gotham for the night. Clark was covering the gala for the Planet and even with his speed, it would be quicker to go straight there instead of via Metropolis. He knew Clark was getting closer to him as he moved around, and finally, when he gathered the courage to stand right behind Bruce, did he turn around to face him.

“What do you want, Kal?”

“Well, I wanted to ask if I could have access to the Gotham tubes, just for tonight while I’m working there.” “You can just fly across the bay from Metropolis.”

“I- Yes I can but I would rather no one know Superman was around Gotham, and I believe you do too.”

Bruce sighed, his patented ‘Tired Dad Batman’ sigh as Dick labelled it after he managed to elicit the sigh on many occasions. Clark was right, he definitely didn’t want anyone thinking Superman was operating in Gotham on a night where Batman wasn’t. It would send the wrong impression and risk the exposure of the other Bats. 

“Hn. Fine. You can have one time access to the Tube nearest the Museum.” Bruce got up and made his way to the console.

“Oh, wow, err, thanks.” Clark stammered out as he followed. He started to put in the access code and was almost done when the tube roared into life, the screen showing the connection coming from the Batcave.  Both men turned to face the tube as a human outline started to appear. Bruce let a small smile creep onto his face as the announcement was made.

“Entering, Nightwing, 3-6.”

Dick stepped through onto the Watchtower and was immediately greeted by Bruce and Clark. He threw his iconic grin onto his face and threw his arms out

“Whoops, didn’t realise you guys were using the tube. Sorry about that.”

Clark tilted his head slightly, as Barry had when he’d been invited. Guess it was a midwestern thing. Bruce, however, just turned back to the console as he spoke.

“I see you had Oracle reassign you.” “I figured you were busy.”

“Yes.”

Dick snorted and made his way past Clark, who followed him with his eyes.

“Wait, Nightwing?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you number 3-6? We don’t have that many members so you should be a lower designation.”

Dick kept the smile on his face. 

“Inside joke, and when Oracle is the one giving me access, I couldn’t not ask.”

Clark looked as if he wanted to pry deeper, but that was cut off by Bruce.

“Superman, you will arrive about three blocks from the museum. I assume you can find your way from there.”

Clark turned back to the tube and nodded. 

“Recognised, Superman, 0-1.”

Then he was gone.

Dick turned to Bruce, and was met with a smile.

“Wally just left. He went to call you.”

“Oh, well I guess I’ll just call him back later. I didn’t come to see him.” Dick shrugged.

“Did you need something, or did you just want to test your new designation?”

“Ha, both. But I knew you were up here and working on the Fear Toxin case and came to offer help. That and tell you my decision. I figured it was pretty obvious I would accept.”

“I wasn’t so sure.” Dick frowned at Bruce. “You’ve just left your team, one you lead, to join one with people that don’t exactly trust you.”

“Hey, they don’t trust you either. Now there’s two of us.” Dick tried to deflect but after almost 20 years, Bruce knew to ignore this.

“I was unsure if you’d want to join a team so soon, let alone one where people already are weary of you. My reputation is something I’ve built but now people know you and I have been working together for a long time. The tension has been higher in the past week. I’m yet to be called out, though I suspect people will attempt to gather information from you on the incorrect assumption that would be easier. I wanted to leave the decision to you, but was tempted to inform you of how it has been in case that would change your mind. I don’t regret offering you a place on the team. If I’m being transparent, I would enjoy having you here, someone I can trust without any hesitation. But I want you to make sure it’s right.”

Dick inhaled sharply. Bruce had thought about this, and was actually being open with him. Since their meeting in his apartment, Dick had thought about it a lot. He’d jumped between joining and not, missing being part of a team but worried about how it would affect him and Bruce. When Wally had told him he’d be replacing Barry as the Flash, including joining the League, Dick had the only serious doubt about it. Not because he didn’t want to be on a team with Wally, he was his best friend. He just didn’t want it becoming another Titans debacle, where he was incredibly close to Wally and Donna, but everyone else questioned him because he hadn’t revealed his identity. 

That hurt. Being a bat meant wearing a mask and protecting your identity for the sake of everyone else. If even one of them was unmasked, it wouldn’t be too hard to figure out the rest. So he never did. He couldn’t risk any of them. He couldn’t risk his family. And in protecting one, he lost another. The Titans slowly withdrew from him, getting more and more combative, and it resulted in a disaster of a mission.

What should’ve been a simple rescue after an earthquake ended up with Dick having to call in Superman to help. His plan had been solid but everyone other than Donna and Wally had abandoned it in a sort of coup. What they hadn’t planned, however, was exactly how the building they were operating around would collapse. Dick had studied the building’s structural integrity using blueprints and footage of the earthquake, and had constructed his plan to evacuate at the right speed and in the right order to minimise extra strain on the weakened foundations. This required to start from the central part of each floor and work outwards, maintaining the balance of the building. This ensured it wouldn’t crumble under the weight down one side. He’d been in the process of explaining this when the team had run off and started rescuing whoever they could access first, which altered the building’s centre of gravity as they shifted piles of rubble, and caused a complete collapse. 

Dick had called Clark immediately, a vulnerable moment where he’d screamed for Superman out of pure fear, who’d helped in recovering the bodies of those that didn’t make it, and after arriving back at Titans Tower, Dick had packed up his stuff and left. He’d dropped his bag at his apartment before going out on his bike. He hadn’t paid attention to where he was driving and the next thing he knew, he was outside the gates to the Manor. Driven there on instinct. He hadn’t gone in, just sat outside for longer than he should’ve, before driving back to Blüdhaven and beating the shit out of some corrupt cops, something that was incredibly cathartic. But part of him regretted not going up to the door and asking if he could stay a while. He missed having people around, and being alone in his apartment didn’t help with his thoughts. He knew it wasn’t his fault the team didn’t listen to him. He did everything he could. But people had died on his watch, and he’d called for help instead of handling it by himself. He was a leader and he’d let everybody down. 

A cough brought him back and he looked up to see Bruce had made his way over and placed his hand on Dicks shoulder. He’d missed it during his spiral, and Bruce had noticed. He could see his eyes through the cowl, new lenses that polarised for each other but no one else, and they were full of concern. Dick hadn’t spiralled like that in front of Bruce for a while and it was clear he was worried.

“I- I’m just thinking about the last mission I had with the Titans. Maybe it was time for me to leave leading behind me.”

“Dick,” Bruce brushed the hair that had fallen onto his face behind his ear. “We can’t always win. Sometimes we try our hardest and we lose. But we have to move on. I know this is hypocritical coming from me, but that’s why we have each other. Me, you, Robin, the Batgirls, everyone else. I know how much it hurts, I know the pain and anger and fear you feel inside. I felt it when you got shot, I felt it when Jason died, and I feel it every time one of you gets injured. But we are there to support each other and keep ourselves from getting lost in that pain. You taught me that. So I’m here to support you, and anyone else here will say the same thing.”

He coughed back his tears. Bruce knew what he was doing but made no move to get closer. That would be on Dicks terms.

“I want to be in the League, but I’m scared of messing up again.”

“You didn’t mess up. Clark told me what happened, how your team ignored your plan and acted in a way that caused the collapse. You then called for help when you knew you couldn’t do anything more. That’s why we are here, to help when needed.” Bruce sighed, but this time it wasn’t out of annoyance for Dick, but annoyance for myself. “I know I trained you to be the best. I know you put so much pressure on yourself to save everyone. To be there for everyone. And I know that is my fault. But you are not capable of saving everyone. No one is. Not me, not Wonder Woman, and not even Superman. That’s why the League has so many members with different strengths. Our strengths fill holes in others weaknesses. You would do that. You’re a natural leader who sees the best in everyone. You have an ability to light up the space and make people feel comfortable. You are one of the smartest people on the planet and could take over the world if you tried. Which, please don’t try to take over the world.”

Dick let out a sob as he laughed.

“I don’t plan on it yet, but if I do I’ll make sure to give you a few minutes' notice before I begin.”

Both men let themselves be vulnerable for a minute, holding each other and laughing. If the other Leaguers had been there, they would’ve lost it at the sight of Batman acting like… a person. The League probably believe all the rumours that Batman is a local cryptid, or maybe they prefer the vampire story. He’ll be able to find out, probably from people asking him about it.

Dick pulled himself back from Bruce and looked back up at him. They’d both been crying, but they both needed it. They’d both learned to be vulnerable sometimes, even if progress was slow. Bruce put his hand back onto Dicks shoulder, steadying himself. They moved apart and he straightened himself out.

“I’ll be okay, B. Besides, the moment someone else walks into the room, I’ll be all happy again.” 

“Dick.” Bruce tried to grumble but he could hear the compassion that lay underneath.

“Ugh, fine, I will deal with it, Mr Hypocritical.” 

Bruce smiled at that, knowing how this discussion would go if it continued. Dick knew it too, and soon they were standing next to each other, staring out the window at Earth.

He bumped Bruce, who bumped him back. It felt so calm, the two of them together. Not as Batman and Robin, but as Bruce and Dick. Father figure and first son. Two decades of fighting together, training together, learning together. He was going to have a lot of fun working with him again, this time as individuals. 

But more than that, he was looking forward to playing the League. He was ready to ruin them, to make them doubt themselves. He wanted to see how far he could go before Batman would step in, and knowing Bruce, it would be pretty far.

He was going to be ok.

Notes:

i hope you didn't hate that, it was a brain worm that bounced around in my head for weeks and i'm glad i was finally able to get it out oh, and the inside joke is that 3-6 is the date dick debuted in the comics, March 6th 1940, so for the non-us americans it would be 6-3 but they are american so... the title is a lyric from inertia by ajr, which i listened to whilst writing this (specifically the acoustic version) it's so good and can be found on youtube or spotify

[takeyourcyanide]

Rationality; a Supposed Loss and Deterioration

AO3

Fandom: Soul Eater

Character(s): Franken Stein, Spirit Albarn

Word count: 2 408

Tags: Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Age Regression, Age Regression/De-Aging, It’s Not Paranoia If They’re Really Out To Get You, Triggers, Paranoia, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Short One Shot

Summary: Stein spends the entire day pacing after receiving a particular alert. Spirit comes home, and is not very happy with his agitated demeanor.

Notes: A mutual of mine once said that it seems that I use writing as defragmentation. That perfectly describes whatever this is, and another fic I might post. This is sort of an exploration, as well - a dissection to a degree. A lot of my fics are.

Multiple trains of thought raced within Stein’s skull, all being derailed once their tracks would abruptly break, sparks flying from where they’d be cut off by sometimes nothing and sometimes something. The same sound he’d heard in the morning was playing endlessly in his mind, the same feeling, that sensation which spread throughout his limbs, gnawing on his insides, remaining almost effervescent in the way that it’d bubble up and nearly cause his body to bust open.

His extremities twitched every once in a while, odd muscle spasms often occurring, as he paced back and forth and back and forth through the short corridor of his and Spirit’s small apartment for hours on end. Soon, he found that his calves would ache with each step that he took, the floor rubbing against the forming and formed callouses on his toes, even his lower back seemingly a little sore.

But he could not stop his vessel from moving, not until that sensation which left him ticking, his head often jerking to the side, his shoulders rolling and cracking, dissipated.

There were still some leftover tremors in his hands, which he found almost funny. The same individual who’d regularly involve himself in any form of danger for the sake of feeling alive and euphoric was the same individual who was shaking at a mere sound, at a message of sorts, at something he could not even name without becoming jittery and agitated.

Surely they were coming for him. Surely. They’d ask who that ‘they’ even was, and perhaps it was those included in that… broadcast. Perhaps it was anyone. But it must’ve been those included.

Stein was lucky not to have experienced whiplash with the amount of times he’d whipped his head around, up, and even down, to check for any sign of an approaching figure. He could feel their presences. They were inside of his apartment. And each time he’d arrive at the end of the hallway, near a source of light and near the kitchen, he’d freeze briefly to cautiously check for those figures, before turning around after hearing and feeling someone’s breath on his neck, only to be met with nothing, except for the occasional oddity. He was being teased, taunted. Mocked, even.

For a moment, he flapped his hands, he beat on his arms, he pulled at his hair, he ripped the skin off of his lips with his teeth.

There was nothing he could do about it. If he were to hurt or even murder someone, perhaps Spirit since he had been awfully conspicuous lately, he’d be deemed as criminally insane. Imagine if he were to tell the judge and jury just why he’d been so violent. He didn’t want to be stuck in a psychiatric institution for the rest of his life because he got a little too agitated one day. But what about those coming for him? Would it not be self-defense? Was Spirit involved as well? He wasn’t, was he?

He darted back down the hallway, no longer walking, but running from the presences. He stopped once he entered his bedroom, making sure to check everywhere for the same person that was… broadcasted loudly to him. Once he found nothing - though he still knew there was someone in his apartment waiting to get him, playing with their food before devouring him - he grabbed his stuffed, stitched-up rabbit swiftly, holding it by one of its long, floppy ears and bolting out of his room, shutting the door behind him.

He brought the plushie to his chest for a moment, his chin resting on its soft head, as he embraced the toy, hoping that maybe it could soothe some of that pent-up sensation coursing through his body. And while it did nothing to get rid of what seemed to be his anxiety and agitation, it did cause a pleasant warmth to spread in his heavy, pressured and dense-feeling chest, contrasting, yet blending in with the noise.

He trudged closer to the kitchen, closer to the blaring light, ignoring the pain in his feet and legs, and the aching in his knees and hips.

“Oh, hey, Stein.”

There was a figure. The figure of his weapon, standing in the kitchen, digging through the cabinets. He hadn’t heard him come in. What else hadn’t he heard? What if someone else came in - or, really, broke in - and he was much too lost in his own internal landscape to notice?

He whipped his head in every direction he possibly could, their oppressive presences replacing and becoming the air he breathed.

He silenced a whimper. He silenced a strained, somewhat frustrated, exhausted groan. His body was becoming gradually more cumbersome to move and maintain any semblance of control over.

How was he supposed to interact with the scythe like normal? He needed to. He could not, but he needed to. He wasn’t in the mood to be yelled at and chastised. Therefore, he needed to, though he knew he wouldn’t. He did not wish to interact with him at all.

“Stein? What are you doing? You pacing again? Why are you just standing there?” Spirit tilted his head in suspicion, walking up to Stein, apparently having given up on finding a snack. “You really need to go shopping. It’s your turn, you know. We have, like, nothing.”

“What time is it?”

“What?”

“What time is it?”

“God, I wish you’d stop mumbling for once. I have no clue what you’re saying-“

“What time is it?” He, even more agitated than before, repeated with an accidentally whiny emphasis. He was antsy, he could not help it. He hadn’t the energy to interact, not when he knew how annoyed Spirit would be, how far from calm he’d be - which would only continue to worsen his growing distress. Spirit always had to be mad about something. Why couldn’t he ever just shut his fugly mouth and leave him be?

“It’s seven o’clock.”

“What day is it?”

“It’s Sunday. I went on a date. Remember?”

‘Barely.’

He was much too focused on the prospect of hearing an alarm again to remember what year it was, much less what day it happened to be.

“You’re always on a date.”

Spirit scoffed as though it weren’t the truth. He was always so offended, always on the defensive.

“That’s not true!” He moved towards the living room, Stein curiously following him. He wanted to gauge the now sitting boy, to figure out precisely what he should be suspicious or not suspicious of him for. He should always be suspicious, and he always was. They were conspicuous. Did he sell his information to the one broadcasted? Surely not. Though he couldn’t help but question it. Perhaps he did. He did not want another broadcast.

“Can you turn off the emergency alerts on your phone?” He did not want to ever hear another one, though he certainly would at some point. Just voicing what they were was enough for him to shiver, the sensation worsening as it rolled down his spine.

“Ohh… You got one, too, then?” He kicked back on the sofa, his feet lying crossed on the coffee table. “Yeah.. it was kind of unnerving. Some guy’s wanted for a bunch of murders and kidnappings and shit, and apparently he was last seen somewhere, like, half an hour or so away from us. He’s on Lord Death’s list- I heard some first years ended up with the mission.”

That did not answer his question. And he did not want to talk about it.

That same painful sensation sent shocks throughout his chest, throughout his arms and legs. His forehead began to throb, leaving him to wonder if his brain was finally about to explode, the rims of his eyes a little sore. He clumsily, sloppily rubbed one of his eyes with his free hand, as he yawned, finding that he’d forgotten to wear his glasses for the entire day. No wonder his eyes hurt.

“Honestly, that rabbit just screams you,” he pointed at the stuffed toy in Stein’s hand. “With all of the stitches, and how mangled and disturbing it looks. It’s pretty cute, though. …Are you going to sit down? Do you wanna watch something?”

“Mm-mm,” he hummed in disagreement, beginning to rock himself on his feet, that antsy, restless feeling not leaving him. Noisy, noisy, noisy.

“Why are you being so pouty? It’s annoying.”

Pouty? What had he done wrong? And even if he was, how could he not be a little pouty? After a long day of chronic agitation and failing to repress regression episodes, was he not allowed to be a little pouty? After being quite literally woken up by one of the few things that is able to illicit something akin to a fear response from him, was he not permitted to be a little fussy? No, he was not. He was not some sort of baby, after all. Everyone gets unnerved by things sometimes. Get over it. Suck it up. Don’t be so pathetic.

But how was he being annoying? He wasn’t venting to him, he hadn’t told him anything. He wasn’t seeking his comfort, or any sort of assistance from him. He wasn’t pestering him for anything. What was he doing that was so terrible?

“And you’ve been even weirder than usual lately. I wish you’d at least respond to me. I don’t know what psychiatric thing is going on with the you, or what psychiatric thing you want me to believe is going on with you, but It’d be nice if you’d pretend to be normal or human for even just a little while.”

“He’s coming for me,” he muttered under his breath, little titters escaping him despite his increasing agitation, as his lips twitched to the side. Spirit had often told him that his face twitched when he’d speak, when they’d converse. He noticed a lot of facial twitching, and twitching in general. Involuntary spasms. He found it odd. He found everything about him odd.

“Who’s ‘he?’” He gazed at him, looked him up and down with an expression that made it obvious just how bizarre he thought he was. He stared at him as though he’d said the dumbest thing in the world. He appeared almost repulsed by him. “No one’s coming for you. You’re fucking ridiculous. You used to actually be somewhat logical. I seriously can’t even speak to you anymore- no one can,” he sighed, his eyes seemingly telling him he perceived himself as being above him, as being better, more logical. How insulting. “Whatever. Gone are the days of having a rational conversation with you.”

Stein immediately walked away. What was even the point in trying to argue with him, or explain his side of things when he’d only be looked down upon, when he’d only be told he was being ridiculous and apparently faking some sort of issue? What was he even faking? What incentive would he have to fake anything? Attention? But being strange in the eyes of others did not typically bring anything good. He didn’t think he was acting all that different than usual. But any time he was even more “off,” or was having an even worse day than is typical in terms of the noise, he was often accused of apparently exaggerating or lying. But what the fuck was he lying about? He hadn’t told him anything? Was he lying about them coming for him? Was it because he’d giggle when he’d tell him that? But he didn’t mean to. His laughing didn’t mean was happy or faking. It just happened. It happened a lot when he’d get agitated and anxious. It could happen in his brief moments of euphoria, but he wasn’t euphoric. Why couldn’t Spirit understand that his body did things against his will? He didn’t feel like laughing. He didn’t know why he did. It was paradoxical, sure, but it just happened. If anything, giggling meant he wasn’t feeling too well a lot of the time. Not always, of course. But sometimes. Sometimes his happened at random, when he wasn’t feeling particularly any way. Sometimes it was a result of something negative, and other times it was a result of something positive, though that was fairly rare.

He opened his bedroom door, peaking into his room and checking for anything about to jump him. He checked behind the door, shutting it and locking it. And he crawled into bed, his comforter over his knees, as he held his rabbit tightly to his chest, rocking himself back and forth in an effort to calm himself.

He did not want to pathetically cry, he was not the type to cry, he never experienced the urge to cry. He hadn’t cried in God knows how long, so why now? Was it because of those idiotic regression episodes? But even when he was physically small, he did not weep. He wanted to be rational.

He nibbled on his lips, he nibbled on the fingertips coming to rest unconsciously against his lips.

He was supposed to be the logical one. He was supposed to be rational. Was he not logical anymore? Where was he? He was lost. He was supposed to be the smart one. He was supposed to be intelligent. He was supposed to be rational.

But they were coming for him. But he was supposed to be calm and rational. He typically was, was he not? He was grounded, down to earth. Where has he gone? Perhaps he’d finally lost himself to the madness. But he wasn’t supposed to irrational.

He knew this would happen, didn’t he? But he was being rational. Someone coming for him was the truth.

Where was he? Where was everything? Where had everything gone? He was finally gone, most certainly in the eyes of others. They’d made it clear how insane they thought he was for a variety of reasons- whether it be his violence or.. this.

He was supposed to rational. There was nothing left. But he was rational. This was rational. What did he mean by ‘gone are the days of having a rational conversation with you’? What did anyone mean by anything? Why did he have to interact with those who did not want him around? And where was he?

But they’re here. That is the truth. He was not. That, too, is the truth. There was a weight on his chest. And he wanted to brutalize Spirit.

[https-furina]

✎ the best gift.

ft. kaeya x fem!reader

w.c. 1.3k words

content: fluff, reader does not have a vision, established relationship, this is a little bit more chill because it’s a birthday fic <3

notes: happy birthday vivi ( @lovevivi444 )!! here is some birthday kaeya fluff that i hope isn’t too sickeningly sweet or ooc because i’m not great at writing for kaeya. mwah have a great day my lovely!

waking up it just feels like an average monday morning - of course it does. you’ll roll out of the comforting grips of your bedsheets, stumble to the kitchen and pour coffee into your system like your life depends on it. only then can you venture into the society of mondstadt city, more specifically to the knights of favonius headquarters where you work as a library assistant to lisa. the routine was engraved into every last fibre of your body by now.

there’s a tight feeling on your hips, strong and resisting against your attempts to roll out of bed like you planned. brows knitted, you finally open your eyes. golden light pours in through the cracks of your curtains, insinuating that sunrise had already began its course for the day - crap! you’re late. you try to supress your panicked gasp as you realise, shooting to sit up so quick you have a moment of whiplash.

“give in, will you?” a familiar voice moans sleepily and it’s then you come to your senses that the heavy feeling keeping you locked to your bed is your long term boyfriend, the knights of favonius’ very own cavalry captain (you had questioned him on the cavalry part, he refused to answer.)

“kaeya, i have- no, we have work!” you exclaim softly, aware that your sudden state of being wide awake was not rubbing off on your boyfriend, who is very much barely awake. his eyes are half lidded, hair tussled as he buries his face further into the pillows at the break of harsh light into your bedroom.

“no, we do not,” kaeya huffs, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you back down to lay with him, “don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?”

you purse your lips as you try to think - clearly he’s right and you have forgotten but you’re too stubborn to outright admit that. he has enough ego without another stroke to it.

“…i have not forgotten…” you mumble as kaeya’s thumb rubs circles into the bare skin of your midriff, exposed from your shirt hitching up when he pulled you down. kaeya quirks an eyebrow and you puff your cheeks, looking away from him.

“love, it’s your birthday,” kaeya says it with an ounce of displeasure, pressing a kiss to your head for a second, “lisa permitted you have the day off.”

your mouth forms the shape of an ‘o’ for a mere second - how fixated on work did you have to be to forget your own birthday?

“that still doesn’t clear your name, you still have to go to work.” you scold, running a hand through soft navy blue locks. kaeya makes a small noise of enjoyment at the feeling of your fingers smoothing along his scalp.

“wow, don’t want me around on your birthday?” kaeya teases, moving his hand up to cup your cheek, “i’ll go to work if my girlfriend is so insistent…”

his voice trails off as he moves to sit up, sheets falling from his body as the warmth of his hand leaves your cheek. you’re quick to whine, hands grabbing at kaeya’s arm in an attempt to anchor him down to bed as he had done with you moments prior. amusement is written all over kaeya’s face and you know he’s basking in having his ego stroked - of course you wanted him around, he’s not stupid. he just wants to hear you say it so he can relish in making you embarrassed.

"stay," you grumble hesitantly, chewing the inner of your cheek. you wish you could slap that smug look off his face, "but can we uh- sleep a little longer?"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

only when daybreak finally disturbs your sleep enough to frustrate you do you rise from the comfort of your bed. kaeya is nowhere to be seen but there's the lingering scent of pancakes wafting through the house - the one that the pair of you shared at the heart of mondstadt. that thought still feels like a fever dream to you. you almost bump into the door frame when you get too lost in thought, kaeya flickering a worried glance in your direction.

"and you talk about my booze problem," he jokes, earning a scowl from you as you arrive at his side. he presses a sultry kiss to your head, "good morning, birthday girl."

"i'm not the one spending my wages at my brother's tavern, i'm sure diluc would like to agree," you muse, flashing a wink in his direction as he scoffs, followed by a chuckle, "did you poison them?"

your question is directed at the neatly decorated pancakes plated on the kitchen table, even topped off with a bouquet of cecilias and windwheel asters in your favourite vase at the centre of the table. kaeya sends you a look, as if warning you to make one more unnecessary (yet playful) dig at him.

"your birthday doesn't give you free bully-your-boyfriend passes." he huffs a little dramatically, pulling your chair out for you - an attempt at a romantic gesture in favour of your birthday. if it was any other day the bickering the two of you have committed to would most likely result in him pulling the chair from under you, only to cradle you moments later on the kitchen floor when you're throwing a tantrum and giving him the silent treatment.

"it should."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

almost the entire day is spent with kaeya whisking you away to the multitude of shops of mondstadt, hiding in the occasional alley when you spot someone from the knights. you scowl at kaeya for skipping work but he merely grins back in tandem with the mischievous sparkle in your boyfriend's eye that never seems to dull.

when kaeya is drained of shopfronts and you've had your fair share of physical gifts - it was his love language after all, as well as endless words of affection - he tugs your hand in the direction of windrise. in the past you had spent a lot of time at windrise, listening to the wind through the leaves above you and watching the windwheel asters spin. kaeya knew you had peace of mind here, away from work, society and the act of socialising.

that's why the cryo vision lays a soft blanket atop the blades of long grass, holding your hand as you lower ono the fabric carefully as to not ruffle it. he admires you as you do so, making sure you don't topple or hurt yourself too drastically. he drinks in the particular way you've styled your hair for your birthday, the light layer of a gloss left on your lips and how your eyes glitter like a sky of a thousand stars when you catch sight of the orange and pink hues of the sunset in the distance.

"still going to scold me for ditching work?" he chuckles as he sits beside you, one of his knees raised and the other straightened in front of him. you roll your eyes, sending him a look but he knows you can't argue back now. you favour quality time, something rare when kaeya gets thrown amidst paperwork and commissions so frequently. some days the only time you see your boyfriend is when you pass in the halls of the headquarters, sharing fleeting glances that you treasure dearly.

you lay your head on his shoulder gently, a small exhale leaving your lips as the sun lowers further. the breeze calms, as if disappearing with the sun. kaeya presses a kiss to your hair, breathing in the familiar, lingering scent of your shampoo that he's so used to breathing in every night.

needless to say, kaeya knows you're cherishing this gift more than any of the others - he has no qualms with this. you could utter that it was the best gift of them all and he'd been ecstatic that you simply loved him that much. all you ever needed was him; his touch, his presence, the rough spots of his hands when he takes his fingerless gloves off. it was almost as if he found a place to belong.

© https-heizou 2023.

[gildengirl]

Just reread DJGC (with the epilogue), and here are some of my thoughts that literally nobody asked for...

Cynthia sucks.

I wish we got to see more of Abby and Cammie bonding (especially over Matt).

I also wish we got to see more of Abby and Macey bonding (especially over how much Cynthia sucks).

I feel like Ally teased us with Abby/Joe pretty hard in DJGC, it's through Cam's POV so she probably misread the situation (but you know Tina had to be trying to gather intel and was spreading some WILD rumors about these two).

It's not that funny, but it kinda cracks me up thinking of Zach disguising himself as an old man. Crazy eyebrows, an even crazier white wig AND a fake mustache. Cam has to tease him about it in the future. Please.

Zach just jumps out of a moving train with a parachute. No biggie.

"Dad died, and ever since then, you've been a ghost." Has anyone recovered from that? Because I haven't. Nope.

Zach giving Cammie his jacket is just... their whole interaction in that scene is so cute.

"Joe Solomon does not cry." FALSE. He most certainly does and it most certainly makes me cry.

Abby really thought "Why not?" and kissed Joe just to try and snap Rachel out of her denial. "Well, *looks at Rachel* someone had to do it." Exactly what conversations did Abby and Rachel have about Joe that led to this moment???

"Don't be a ghost this time." Aww, my heart...

"She deserves better. She had better." "Matthew's gone." "And whose fault is that?" Screaming, crying, sobbing on the floor. This whole scene.... WRECKS me.

"It's good to hear your voice, Abigail." Joe who? I don't understand, what's Abby/Joe? I've never heard of that. (Headcanon: Tina for sure has the phones at Gallagher bugged and she is 100% experiencing whiplash right now).

"Sloppy of you to get shot, love." This line alone might make the DJGC epilogue my favourite epilogue lmao. It's maybe the most Tabby thing we get in the series and I'm absolute TRASH for it. Like, Townsend calls Abby "love" and that's canon.

I may or may not have written a fic extending their conversation on the phone but it's never seeing the light of day.

[bbangsuns]

don’t break my heart again | r.c

warnings: angst, slight nsfw themes, rafe is just a little ooc but not much, terrible writing, mentions of drug addiction and overdoses, ward cameron. i think that’s it?

a/n: part 2 to this fic. this won’t have a lot of smut, but if you guys want a 3rd part with just smut i’ll write one <3

a/n part 2: i’m not happy with this ending at all i might redo it soon 🧍🏽‍♀️also this isn’t beta’d so sorry if there are any mistakes

word count: 1.4k

after your talk at the chateau with the pogues, you made the decision to head to your brothers house for the first time in a few weeks, wanting to rest as much as possible before you talked to rafe.

you knew it would be difficult to sleep after everything that happened, but you never expected it to be damn near impossible. after tossing and turning in bed for what seemed like years with the big red ‘1:37 A.M.’ taunting you from your alarm, you decided to go for a walk on the beach to hopefully tire yourself out. climbing out of bed and putting on your shoes, you opened your window as carefully as possible, trying to not wake your older brother up and slipped out, extremely grateful for the fact that you lived in a one story house.

the walk to the beach was peaceful, the sounds of nature soothing your nerves almost instantly. arriving to the beach in 10 minutes, your eyes were immediately drawn to the figure sitting near the shore, your body tensing up once again. however as you moved closer, you were almost positive you knew exactly who it was, and your suspicions were confirmed as soon as you got close enough and spoke.

“rafe?” his head whipped around so fast you thought the poor boy would get whiplash. he went to stand but you stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, opting to sit down right next to him. you could feel his eyes on you and turned your head, and even in the low light you could see his bloodshot eyes and swollen lips, assuming he’s been picking and biting at them all day. you went to softly reprimand him for his bad habit, but he beat you to it.

“i’m so sorry, doll. you have no idea how much I regret saying those words to you. i was just so fucking frustrated after my fight with ward and i know you were just trying to help me feel better, and i know that’s no excuse but i wasn’t thinking.” he breathed out, his voice cracking at the last few words. staring at the broken boy in front of you, you couldn’t help but bring your hand up to his cheek, caressing it lightly. rafe’s eyes fluttered shut and his shoulders sagged slightly, leaning into your touch and you took this opportunity to speak.

“what you said really hurt me, rafe. it made me feel so small and belittled. now, i know you weren’t in the right state of mind because of ward and i tried not taking it so personally, but god hearing that from the person you love more than anything is something that shakes your core no matter how badly you wish it didn’t.” you said it with a voice so full of hurt that rafe felt a shiver go down his spine, hating that he was the cause of all the pain you’ve been feeling over the last few months. he went to open his mouth to speak again but you shook your head, signaling you weren’t finished so he closed his mouth, staring at you.

“i know you’ve been going through a lot with ward and the high expectations he has for you, but the way you’ve been coping has been hurting me and our relationship. every time you have a fight with ward and storm out of the house, i stay awake wondering when or if you’ll come home. and if you don’t come home, i imagine the worst scenario, asking myself if you got into an accident because you drove home high, or if you took it too far this time with the cocaine and you overdosed somewhere i wouldn’t be able to find you. it terrifies me beyond words, rafe, and i don’t know how much more i can take before it’s all too much.” by the end of your confession you were crying again, the tears spilling out of your eyes and your breathing becoming erratic. you removed your hand from rafe’s cheek, pressing your palms into your eyes harshly, attempting to keep the tears from falling anymore.

rafe didn’t know what to say, his heart breaking all over again at the sight of you crumbling in front of him. he felt his hands shaking, his own tears slipping out at the fact that he’d been neglecting you and making you sick with worry for so long. he truthfully hated himself for it, but he felt the desperation in him, the need to try and fix your relationship any way he could. wiping his face, he grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your eyes, using one hand to hold both of yours, his other one was now on your cheek, turning your face towards him. his thumb stroked the skin, wiping away the tears that continued falling.

“i’m sorry for never noticing how much you were hurting. i’m sorry for pushing you away when all you wanted to do was help me. i know i haven’t shown it for a while, but you’re truly the best thing that has ever happened to me and i’ll do anything to show you that. whatever you want, i’ll do it because i can’t stand to ever lose you.”

the way he spoke to you, the slight panic in his voice and watery eyes, you knew he was being genuine. but, there was a part of you that was still skeptical, scared that he wouldn’t be able to keep his word and he’d slip back into his addiction, and you don’t think you’d be able to handle that cycle again. rafe noticed your hesitation, his stomach sinking at the idea that you wouldn’t want to stay with him after what he’s put you through. as he went to say something else, you interrupted him.

“i want you to stop using drugs, rafe. if you can’t do it on your own, you can go to a rehab facility on the mainland and i’ll go with you, maybe find an apartment there or something. but i need you to do it, love. if not for me, do it for yourself. i wouldn’t be able to handle something happening to you all because of that shit you’re putting in your body.” you spoke with a certain determination, almost demanding that he stop chasing a high, and rafe wasn’t dumb. he knew that if he didn’t get his shit together, you wouldn’t stick around to watch him slowly kill himself, for fear it would kill you inside too. so, he agreed to quitting, not willing to risk seeing you walk away.

“i’ll do it. i’ll do whatever it takes to fix things between us, i just don’t wanna lose you.”

you looked at him, a small smile on your face knowing he would never truly lose you. you kept that thought to yourself as you leaned in, placing your lips on his to which he kissed back immediately, moving his hand to the back of your neck to keep you close. you broke the kiss only to seat yourself on his lap, and you connected your lips as soon as you sat down, wrapping your arms around his neck. biting your bottom lip, rafe took advantage of the small moan that left you and slid his tongue inside your mouth, taking control of the kiss. sliding your hands under his shirt, you tugged at it, wanting to remove it as fast as possible. he pulled away from your lips, quickly removing his shirt and attached his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he left a trail of wet kisses all the way to your collarbone. rafe moved you off his lap, laying you on the sand and hovering over you, one hand slipping under your shirt, his thumb and index finger grabbing your nipple and rolling it between them, causing a low whine to leave your lips.

“rafe, don’t mess with me. just make me feel good.” it came out as more of a whine, a small pout on your lips. after going so long with him not touching you, you just wanted to feel all of him, sand be damned; you’d deal with that annoying detail later. rafe just laughed at you softly, leaning back on his feet to look down at you.

“whatever you want, baby”

that night you didn’t leave the beach until almost dawn, not wanting to risk anyone seeing anything, but you both left feeling the happiest you’d ever been in a long time. pure ecstasy was flowing through your body knowing that you and rafe were going to be okay and that your relationship was going to be stronger than ever.

[bratshaws]

through the hourglass 47. brb x oc

a/n: hello my connection IS trash uwu

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: beatrice ripping a new one on her parents uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12/13/14/15/16/17/18/19/20/21/22/23/24/25/26/27/28/29/30/31/32/33/34/35/36/37/38/39/40/41/42/43/44/45/46

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-

She was very nervous, wringing her hands together as she looked between the door and her phone to check the time. After the conversation with Evelyn and Shells - and Rooster - Beatrice decided to call her parents over to talk. They didn’t know why, but they wouldn’t say no especially since Nikki was a good excuse to visit after all.

Beatrice chose to do this when she and Nikki were alone, just the two of them would be enough for her brain to manage instead of worrying if something would set Rooster’s protectiveness off and well…make her parents even more upset.

She cleaned the whole house, she made sure everything was pristine in between feedings so her mother would have no reason to complain about a dusty corner or some dust bunnies that were so small she couldn’t even see it. Beatrice looks down at her phone again, cracking her fingers with her brows low and jaw clenched, muttering to herself that she was going to lose her mind soon enough.

When the screen shone with a message, the fears dissipated just a bit when she saw who it was.

Roos (13:30)

They there yet,gorgeous?

Bea (13:30)

Not yet Roos…but they’ll be here soon…I I am really nervous.

Roos (13:31)

I know pretty girl, but you can do this. You are stronger than you think…if you need, talk to me until they arrive.

Bea (13:32)

I don’t want to bother you at work,though…

Roos (13:34)

Baby, you’d never. You know I love hearing from you and you know I’ll do my best to help you out…now, tell me what’s been going on, let’s ease that mind of yours.

God,she loved him so much.

Beatrice squealed a bit out of happiness, pressing her phone to her forehead as she bounced on the spot because how is he real?! Honestly this conversation was already helping her out more than she expected it to, just to ease her mind out of things.

So she told him about the cleaning, about taking Nikki out on a stroll with the dogs, about almost cutting her finger off while preparing herself a sandwich because she was so nervous about today. But he listened and he offered casual commentary and made her laugh and forget about the constant desperation that her parents often made her feel.

She hoped everything was going to go well, she really did, she didn’t want…to break the relationship between them, that’s the last thing she wanted but she really needed to tell them everything.

Especially since her siblings knew nothing about the party either, they just assumed that she asked for it so their parents did that. They were a bit suspicious about the cousins being invited to a party that Beatrice arranged but didn’t question much about it…until Beatrice contacted them.

They were all shocked,Guillermo was the least shocked of them all and when he was about today ‘well they are family’ Beatrice cut him off so quickly it gave everyone whiplash. She was honest to God, tired of Guillermo and her parents treating her as if she knew nothing about life, about her life. Every other sibling was quiet in the group chat as Beatrice ripped a new one on Guillermo, word after word after word, it was like a punch she was holding back for years.

Every time Guillermo tried to speak,Beatrice cut him off and told him to shut up because she wasn’t done.  It lasted thirty minutes. Thirty minutes of Beatrice writing down everything she had ever felt ever since she moved out of the house, ever since she started working at the Hard Deck, ever since she met Rooster, it all came crashing down in a barrage of curses and words that only made the situation heavier…but not unbearable.

Guillermo was quiet after that, it took him a few seconds to write a ‘sorry’ and then excuse himself from the group chat. Beatrice felt awful at first, thinking that she had hurt her older brother’s feelings with how she was speaking but was more than happy to hear about her other siblings’ support when she voiced her feelings.

It was a long time coming, they all said, and they all agreed she should talk to their parents. And now here she was, waiting for them to arrive…

How would she even open this conversation? With a “hey mom hey dad, listen you two fucked how big time” or “why do you always treat me like a child I thought we ran over this before.” But she couldn’t find a better way to do it, honestly, all she wanted was to resolve this now.

Her humor has gotten better, sure it wasn’t great but she was no longer slumping around looking sad and defeated. It was a long way to go but at least she could see pieces of herself slowly returning. 

She still felt…iffy about her appearance and her body, even if Rooster didn’t and was always very vocal about how beautiful she was and she wanted to believe him,p. She knew he was genuine but there was just so much in her head she still had a hard time figuring out the truth.

She also had a bit of time to think, especially why she considered her problems less than Roosters. She told him before that she wasn’t someone who could compare experiences with him, hell, look at what he does, what sort of thing should she compare with? It’s not easy because her issues were always tossed aside, ever since childhood so she couldn’t really see herself as somewhat deserving of worrying about such issues.

Beatrice knew he underwent a lot of stress, a lot of fear and she didn’t want to add to it, even if it was unhealthy and very uncalled for. He said that he doesn’t mind listening to her opening up about her problems, then why was she still worried about it? Maybe deep inside the goblin voice just snickered that one thing that she says could be enough to break Rooster away from her…which wasn’t true, it’s even proven before…

She was giving herself a headache and with her parents arriving that wasn’t a good thing to happen. After telling Rooster goodbye and letting him know she loved him so much, she turned the phone down on the counter, rubbing her face with both hands “Okay.” She looks over where Nicole is on her bouncer, the three dogs surrounding her, guarding her almost “Your mama is going through it Nikki.”

Nicole shifted her green eyes from the dogs to her mother who was now supporting herself on the counter, letting out a soft noise when she met the same green irises “Heah, your nonna and nonno made me….kinda sad, it wasn’t fun and I hope we can all come to a conclusion because I am tired of this.” 

And Jesus Christ, she just wanted to enjoy her married life with Rooster. God, it was like her parents considered Rooster to be her babysitter more than her husband! She knows how much they like him - now - and of course they sometimes ask him things that obviously should be directed to Beatrice.

Rooster was always kind enough to direct the question to Beatrice himself and she’d always reply genuinely…honestly, this was getting out of control and the more she thought about it the more she wanted to resolve it.

They didn’t do that to anyone else.

Not Gui,Sabrina,Marina,Michael or Leo.

Why is it alwaysher? Why was she always the one with the baby questions and the constant body shaming? Why? What have her cousins accomplished in their forty years in life? Hell,she fucking had a photoshoot and was the face of a collection! 

God, she was getting angry.

Beatrice rolled her shoulder, clenching and relaxing her fingers as she tried to calm herself down, “It’s so unfair.” she laughs bitterly, pacing around the kitchen with Nicole and the dogs’ eyes following her, “Like, what am I? Am I just, I don’t know, something they still haven’t figured out yet? What the hell! I have the right to be upset, the right to tell them how what they did hurt me and for them to stop it!”

Yeah, she was going to do that, she had to do that, they couldn’t keep doing this. It was for her mental health and for everyone else’s, including Nicole.

Nicole wasn’t their baby, she was their granddaughter, so there are rules to be expected already and they’d come from Beatrice and Rooster. “At least you are too small to have anything but milk,Nikki…because your nonni can be very surreptitious when it comes to breaking the rules and making sure they do what they think it’s right and just, feed you cake or something.”

And then complain she gained weight.

It was a vicious cycle…and Beatrice had to put it to an end.

The doorbell rang and Beatrice pulled her phone to see her mother’s face zoomed in, her thick glasses on the bridge of her nose “Bea? Hello?” she taps the camera with her finger, “Oh, is this on? Rafael is this on?”

“Mamma–”

“Hold on,” cue to more tapping from her father, the clicking of his nail against the glass cover only adding to the weirdly humorous scene, “Helloooo,Beatrice, is this thing on?” he kept on asking and since they weren’t going to hear her, shocking, she just decided to leave the kitchen to open the door.

Jolene followed her close by while Eleanor and Jack stayed with Nicole in the kitchen, the white dog however was on high alert, standing between the bouncer and the open door. Beatrice sighed, hearing their voices from the outside before looking down at the auburn colored pitbull whose little dot brows just raised up in a ‘go on’ expression, standing by Beatrice’s side, “...alright,” she takes hold of the knob, “Here goes nothing.”

“Beatrice!” her mother’s tone startled her, widening her eyes in surprise when she was quickly engulfed in a hug, kisses pressed all over her cheeks, “Oh my sweet tesoro! How are you?”

“I’m f-”

“How’s Nicole? Is Bradley home?” she steps around Beatrice, “Hello Jolene! I brought you all the food, there’s just so much, I’ll put it in your kitchen!”

“There was no need t-”

“Oh did you change the living room? Oh this is so nice,Bea, I love the way the colors blend.” and so on. Beatrice could only stay by the door, watching her mother’s voice falter until she was gone in the kitchen, saying hello to the dogs and then going a higher tone when she saw Nicole. “Oh,Bea! Jolene’s puppies are protecting Nicole!”

“Yes, yes they are mamma.” she closes the door after her father enters, leaning down to peck her forehead, ‘Hi,papa.”

“Hi,tesoro.” Rafael looks around the house for a bit, “Did Bradley repaint the walls?”

“Oh,uh, no,I did.” she says, “When I was–”

“With Nicole?!”

“...I was early in the pregnancy,I…had a lot of free time,papa.” she frowns, not liking that sudden accusatory tone coming out of her father’s mouth, “Just…why don’t we join mamma?” did he think she was so irresponsible to the point she’d paint walls with her newborn daughter around? 

She couldn’t be angry, the conversation should be done with a clear head and there was no way she’d be able to show her points to her parents with anger pumping in her veins. Beatrice stood a few feet behind her father as he too entered the kitchen, his deep voice getting higher when he saw Nicole, “Hello, my little angel, oh you are asleep, nonno isn’t going to pick you up.”

“Well, she’s a heavy sleeper,” Claudia says as she opens her daughter’s fridge- wait the fridge?! “Honey, you two need to fill this fridge a bit more, I don’t see enough stuff for you two.”

“Mamma,what–” Beatrice speed walks to the fridge, grabbing the containers in her mother’s arms and laughing dryly, “Mamma you didn’t say you were going to put it in my fridge!” she sing sang the sentence with her teeth grinding together, the annoyance only faltering when Claudia walked to the opposite side of the kitchen to take a look around.

Oh great.

“You know, I don’t think we saw a lot of the kitchen before Nikki was born.” Claudia picked a red colored spoon and looked around with a neutral face, “I think it’s nice.”

“...but?”

“But you know, there is some um…” she waves her hands in a circle, “How do I say it, oh is it safe to leave Nikki here?”

Beatrice clenched her jaw, her grip on the plastic containers almost breaking them. She set them down with a bit more force, but not enough to make her parents notice it, inhaling before speaking, “Well, mamma, you see I was actually thinking of teaching Nikki how to be a sushi master and offer her a meat cleaver to start practicing.”

“Beatrice,” her father’s voice, even if he was smiling a bit, “Don’t be sarcastic. You know what your mother mean.”

“...mamma, she’s far from the stove, she’s close to the door and she’s surrounded by the dogs, she’s safe. I’d never leave Nikki in an area where she wouldn’t be.” but her mother, although she looked a bit offended and miffed, just continued her stroll around the kitchen - Beatrice almost screamed when she saw her mother’s index finger rubbing the grout on a counter, rubbing it against her thumb to check for dust or something. “...anyway, do you guys want something to drink?”

“I’d like some water, tesoro.”

“We have sparkling water,papa, Can I get you one?” her father nodded, folding his arms on the kitchen table while keeping his eyes on Nicole.

‘Well’, she thought, ‘better cut everything short before I back out.’

“So.” she interlaces her fingers on the kitchen counter after giving her father the water bottle, both of them looked up at her with expectation and Beatrice had to ease out a breath because she didn’t know how to start this. Come on, she had a plan and now she couldn’t do it? “...well,I…I wanted to talk to you guys about the party–”

“Wasn’t I wonderful,tesoro? Everyone was there.”

Beatrice ignored her mother’s chipper tone, tapping the sides of her interlaced hands on the marble top, creating a gentle rhythm as she thought about what to say next, “Mamma, listen. I,we, appreciate everything you are doing for us, for Nikki…but you two shouldn’t have thrown that party without telling me.”

Cue to her father getting confused, “We did tell you–”

“No,no, what you said was ‘we are going to have a little get together as a family to celebrate Nicole’s birth’ when I asked if it was only us as in me,Brad and the nuclear gang you said ‘yes of course.’” she didn’t want to raise her voice, especially because of Nicole, but her anger was making her shake a little bit, “You- that was something we should decide, myself and Bradley. There was no way in hell we’d worry about throwing a party with ALL of my family members because of Nikki.”

“Well they wanted to meet her.” her mother says, still confused, “So we thought–”

“There was no we.” she cuts her off, “I– she’s our daughter. Whatever happens with her has to go through us first, that’s what I mean! You didn’t throw a huge party for Éwoyn when she was born.”

“Well, Leonardo said he didn’t want it.”

Beatrice tossed her arms up in exasperation, a befuddled noise coming out of her mouth, “So Leo can choose but I can’t? What is up with that? Why wasn't I told? Why were we surprised to see so many cars there? Why?”

Rafael frowned, “Tesoro, you are making a big deal out of this. It’s just a celebration, we wanted to celebrate Nicole.”

“But–oh my God, this is hell.” she couldn’t believe they still couldn’t get it, holding her face up by her palms in front of her eyes, sighing heavily against her hands, “That isn’t the point! The point is that you can’t step in like that, this is something that should’ve been said to me and Brad! If you said ‘hey can we throw this big party with everyone?’ we’d say no! Because we didn’t want it yet! It’s like…it’s like you two still see me as a child! As…a little baby who can’t control herself or can’t come up with her own opinions or can’t take care of my own daughter!”

She breathed in and out heavily, running her hands through her hair, “...and-and bringing the triplets? Really? I only invited them to the wedding because it was my way to say ‘hasta la vista’ and never see them again! Hell, you two know everything they did to Bri and Mari, why do you keep inviting them over?!”

“Beatrice, they are family,’ her father sounds like he’s about to regret his explanation, “And family sticks together over little issues.”

“...little issues? Little issues? I’m sorry, but since when being an open flirt to our partners was a little issue? Since when was Melinda jabbing at Marina taking too long to get pregnant was a little issue?” her eyes stung but she held back the tears, “Since when is treating me and my body like I’m less a little issue?”

And there’s deafening silence, the atmosphere was thick with discomfort of everything that Beatrice just let out a quiet grunt, supporting her weight on the counter top as if she felt her whole soul leaving her body, making her feel almost deflated. She felt bad and yet she felt proud of voicing it to her parents, she felt proud of saying what’s been clogged in her throat for days now.

“...you never told us that, Beatrice.”

“...if I did would any of you believe me?” They both opened their mouths to reply, “Be honest.” then slowly closed them, earning a bitter smile from her daughter, “That’s what I thought.”

“Well, then,” Rafael says after uncomfortable levels of silence, “What do you want us to do?”

“...I want you two to apologize!” she looks at them like they grew three heads, “Wh-how- I want you two to acknowledge you shouldn’t have done that, that I’m an adult and I should know what should happen and what shouldn’t! I’m…I’m tired of being treated like a child, I’m tired of being mistreated by others, I.am.tired! I deserve to be heard,I deserve to be seen, fuck I am only now learning I deserve to be loved! GOD!” 

Amazingly Nicole doesn’t wake up after her mother’s sudden outburst, but she does blink her eyes open when she hears the soft crying coming from Beatrice…which then makes Nicole sob quietly, whimpering with her little arms stretching to Beatrice in hopes to comfort and be comforted. And Beatrice wasted no time in going over to her to pick her up, keeping her little head tucked on the curve of her shoulder.

It was a very uncomfortable moment for all of them, but it wasn’t until Rafael sighed, sending Claudia a look that he spoke again, “We’re sorry,Bea, we never wanted to do this to you. We overstepped.”

“And we’ll be careful when inviting your cousins.”

“...really?”

“Yes, you are right, we’ve been letting that slide for too long.”

And for a second, Beatrice felt like her old self again.

-

Rooster got home in a hurry,Beatrice hadn’t messaged him after the meeting with her parents so he was in the dark for most of the day. He didn’t want to appear freaked out, more than he was, as he walked past the door. He greeted the dogs as he got inside, tossed the keys away and then heard music coming from the living room.

Little Bitty Pretty One

Come on and talk-a to me

Lovey dovey lovey one

Come sit down on my knee

He was surprised and amused already, walking deeper into the house to see his wife, his beautiful,gorgeous, absolutely incredible wife, dancing with Nicole in her arms. Singing along to the song just like her father did to her…that is until she noticed him staring, “Roos!” her smile was brilliant as she adjusted Nikki in her arms, rushing over to him, “Hi!”

Rooster smiles confusedly but leans down when she puckers her lips up to meet his,  holding back a groan when that pretty mouth of hers tries to deepen the kiss, “Mhm,” he arches his brows as he pulls back, “Good talk with your parents?”

“Great talk,” she whispered, “Great,great talk,” and he got another kiss, “I’m sorry for not messaging you after,I was…really tired. So me and Nikki took a nap after they went home.” 

“That’s okay gorgeous, did you and mommy have a good time though, huh?” He immediately makes Nicole grin that gummy grin, little arms stretching towards him so he picks her up, “Oh you are so cute,” he murmurs against her cheek, kissing it repeatedly as he holds her close, “You and your mom will be the death of me.”

But he was so happy to see the little spark of Beatrice return, his heart felt lighter, his body felt lighter, everything felt lighter, “Well, she got it from me,” she immediately teased him, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “So, are you hungry? My mom left a lot of food as always.”

“Hmm,yea I don’t mind that.” he follows her to the kitchen, “You look beautiful.”

And he let out a sigh of relief when she turned around, blushed and smiled.

She was coming back alright.

“How was work?” 

He places Nicole down in her bouncer, earning a few more giggles from her when he tickled her tummy, before he walks up to stand behind Beatrice, wrapping his arms around her waist, “Blue skies and hummingbirds.” he chuckles, “It was fine, met some of the new recruits today?”

“Yeah?”

“Bunch of kids that have no idea what’s going on, but yeah. It was fun.” he buries his face on her neck ,”...I’m so glad to see you smile again. I missed seeing you like this.”

“Honestly so did I Roos…it’s…still a process but I’m feeling a lot better.” she says as she leans back against his chest “And my parents agreed to take care of Nikk while I work so..everything is fine.”

He just grins more, inhaling her sweet lavender scent while keeping her within his grasp, “No complaints, suggestions or questions?”

“Nope, after what I said they just accepted it.”

“Ohhh you have to tell me gorgeous,” he brings his lips to her ear, “I’m dying to know.” and she immediately shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath fanning the shell of her ear.

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Hi Prince! Thank you so much for the ask! <3

Hmm, since I've had huntlow brainrot for nearly a year, I think I'll go with my five favorite fics for them:

A Guard By Any Other Name

They wake in a forest filled with wildflowers and tall, waist-wading grasses, soft summer sunlight pouring through the surrounding thicket of towering trees in misty slivers. Beautiful is the first word that comes to mind when Willow takes it all in, a feeling that intensifies tenfold when her gaze lands on a figure sitting in the shade of a magnificent tree, feather-veined leaves spilling from long, lithe branches like rainfall frozen in time. It doesn't escape Gus's notice that the inner Hunter has chosen a willow tree as his sanctuary, chuckling to himself as the two of them approach him. "I was wondering when you two would finally get here," the inner Hunter affectionately teases, glancing up from the book he'd been reading — From Bones To Earth: A Study Of Wild Magic — to greet them with a radiant smile. "So, journey to the center of my mindscape," he prompts, squinting in the direction of a winding path leading through the denser, darker part of the forest. "Well then, we'd better get started."

Gold Rush

"They're staring at you because they think you're cute," Willow says with a small shrug, like it's an obvious fact, and Hunter nearly falls off the steps. "What?" Hunter's voice cracks about an octave higher than its usual register. "No, that can't be it," he insists with a half-hysterical chuckle, batting the absurd notion away with a wild wave of his hands. "I'm not— no, it's got to be something else." Willow stares at him for a moment, head tilted to the side. "Wait," she says slowly, brow furrowed in genuine concern. "Do you really not know how attract— um. I mean…has no one ever told you that before?" "Do you think I'm cute?" Hunter ventures in a soft, awed voice, and Willow's heart skips about a thousand beats. He's never looked more adorable than he does in this moment — fluffy blond hair coiffed in a windswept halo around the top of his head, dark eyebrows pulled upward in stunned disbelief, plush pink lower lip jutting out ever so slightly in a stupefied pout — and titan have mercy, Willow is so far gone on this boy. She's never been so stupid in love with anyone in her entire life, but this boy downright threatens her IQ.

She Has A Type (And It's Bad But Sad Boys)

"This is weird," she says after a few moments, and Hunter's heart sinks to the depths of his writhing stomach. "Talking to you like this," she clarifies, whiplash sending Hunter's heart soaring so high it nearly leaps right out of his mouth as Willow leans forward, hands coming up to rest on the sides of his face. "Mind if I just—" she asks, fingertips finding the grooves where his mask meets the curve of his jawline, and gently tugs it upward, exposing every bit of pale, scarred, blushing vulnerability underneath. "Hunter," she says, breathing his name between them like a sigh of relief, bursts of golden light from the string of fairy lights dancing in her pale green eyes as she stares up at him with a smile that could turn the dark into daylight. Her hands drift between them in mid-air, like she isn't quite sure what to do with them, fingers twitching like she wants to reach out and touch him, trace the line of his jaw, the curves of his cheekbones, the swell of his lower lip. Or maybe he's just projecting. He needs to leave. He wants to stay.

The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter

"Is this…did someone write a romance novel about grimwalkers?" Hunter asks, turning to see Willow peeking at him through the gap between her fingers, face flushed an adorable shade of pink. "And you used to read it?" he asks, lips pulling up into a smug little smile. "It was a really long time ago!" Willow blurts out, rushing to defend herself. "Way before I ever met you, back when everyone still thought that grimwalkers were just the stuff of fairy tales and folklore. Obviously it's completely inaccurate — I mean, grimwalkers don't feed off of witches' magic like basilisks or vampires, and they certainly couldn't craft an engagement ring out of a piece of their own—" "Ah, bup-bup-bup! No, no, no, no, no spoilers!" Hunter exclaims, covering his ears and shaking his head. Willow pauses mid-ramble, eyebrows arched in surprise. "So, this book," Hunter ventures, gaze flitting between Willow and the bright blue glowing galdorstone illustrated on the front cover of the novel held in his scarred hands. "You said it's a series? As in, there's more?"

Advanced Friendship

Maybe friends routinely catch each other mid-air. Hold each other in their arms like they're holding their own raw, beating heart. Feel that heart quicken and leap into their throat every time the other so much as smiles at them. Maybe friends start fires inside each other's chests that feel like they could simultaneously warm a winter village and burn down a rainforest — a heat so powerful it spills past their ribs and sinks into their skin, igniting their cheeks in bright, ruddy bursts. Maybe friends tell each other they mean the world to one another. Link their pinky fingers in an unspoken promise. Tilt their wrists so that their hands are pressed right up against one another's, like they just couldn't get close enough. It's more than anything he's ever done with any of the others, and it definitely feels different. Maybe it's…advanced friendship? Hunter glances up at her, breath catching at the way all the stars in the night sky seem to dance in her bright green eyes as she gazes back at him, that signature soft smile she seems to reserve just for him tugging at the corners of her lips as a delicate shade of pink blossoms across her cheeks like spring hydrangeas — and a wondrous swell of hope sparks to life inside his chest, because the last time Hunter checked, friends don't look at each other like that.