#tumblr is eating all my tags ugh i hate this

[farfromstrange]

Ease The Pain | Matt Murdock x Reader

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!Reader

Summary: Matt helps to ease your period pains.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), vaginal fingering, description of blood and period pain, use of "Good girl", hurt/comfort, praise kink

Word count: ≈ 3.1k

a/n: I love how Tumblr just keeps not showing my works in the tags so I have to post them again. Fun. Anyway! My period pains are the fucking worst. I hate my life. If men like him were real I'd sure feel a lot better. Anyway, I wrote this in like an hour or so because I'm that desperate. Hope you enjoy!

Pain. 

That’s all you can feel in every inch of your body. The core of that pain lies in your lower stomach and back, but it has already spread to your head and the rest of your muscles, even your legs, and feet. 

It’s Saturday, and you should be up and enjoying your free time but instead, you’re bound to the bed while the worst cramps of your existence ripple through your uterus as it brutally sheds its lining just because you chose not to get pregnant again this month. 

Every position you try feels only comfortable for a split second before another surge of pain appears somewhere in your body, mostly your stomach, but every time a cramp hits, your head seems to explode too, and shifting is futile. 

You’ve tried everything you could think of. Painkillers, heat, curling up into a fetal position, standing up, sitting down, you even took a hot shower, but none of it managed to take the pain away for more than a minute or two. So you have accepted defeat, realizing you don’t stand a chance against the monster that is mother nature. You decide to suffer in silence until the cramps ease up, which could take another day or two. 

Every once in a while, your eyes flutter close and you find yourself blinking back to life a few minutes later disoriented and almost shaking from the pain. Another wave of cramps tears through your body, keeping you wide awake as you roll onto your side and pull your legs up to your chest. 

The door to the bedroom opens and it creaks, which makes you grind your teeth. You feel the sudden urge to tear the glass apart, nerves thin from exhaustion, and the noise only adds to your pain.

“Sweetheart,” Matt’s voice is gentle from where he’s standing against the door frame. 

You bury your face in your pillow. “Go away!” you groan. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” he says. 

“You’re right, I’m not, but there’s nothing you can do about it. I just hate my fucking body right now and it hates me.”

“Well, at least you’re not pregnant.”

You lift your head to glare at his stupidly attractive person. He’s not wearing a shirt, that bastard, and his grey sweatpants are hanging dangerously low on his hips. 

He ducks when you toss a pillow at his head. “Fuck off!”

He wants to laugh, but the sound of your pained moan into the pillow has him sprinting toward you. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m so sorry. If it’s that bad, maybe you should take some more Advil.”

He strokes over your upper arms, pulls the hair out of your face, and presses feather-light kisses to your shoulder blade, which feel soothing at first, but the cramps ruin it for you once again. You’re forced to switch positions, curling up on the other side of the bed. 

Matt follows, sitting up against the headboard on his - previously your - side of the bed.

“I’ve already taken the full dose today,” you tell him. “If I take any more, I’m gonna have more problems than my fucking uterus stabbing me to death. Ugh!”

You hate this. You’re in pain, exhausted, and bleeding so badly, you’re sure you’re going to have to go to the bathroom soon. Every last contraction of your uterus has you cursing Eve for eating that stupid apple. 

His hand moves from your arm to your lower back. Gently forcing you onto your stomach, he starts digging his fingers into the sore muscles of your pelvis. You sigh. Now that is something you haven’t tried yet, too embarrassed to ask him for help with something like this, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You keen into his touch, letting him loosen your muscles one by one. The cramps continue in the front, but the tension in your back finally releases and gives you a second to breathe. 

“You need anything?” he asks, leaning over to nuzzle his face into your neck. “Tea, maybe? More pillows? Or do you want me to run you a bath?”

Sleep threatens to take over. “No,” you slur. His hands are working wonders and you start to question how you even deserve him. “Keep going. Feels good.”

Your approval is all he needs to knead firmer at the flesh protecting the bone of your pelvis. You melt into the mattress. His lips move back to your shoulder, leaving messy kisses over your heated skin.

“Ow, fuck!” The next sharp cramp directs itself toward your entire front, tearing your abdomen apart. “Why does this keep happening?” you cry. “I hate this!”

You’ve been suffering from periods for so long, you should have gotten used to it, but every month feels different, and sometimes worse.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says. “I wish I could help you.”

“Yeah, but you can’t. Too bad!”

That was rude.

You whimper a small apology into your pillow.

“It’s okay, I know you’re in pain. If it helps to yell at me, go right ahead.”

You want to laugh, but you’re too worn out to make any other sound than pained puffs of air from deep within your chest.

Another harsh cramp has him moving his arm around your body, his hand continuing the massage on your stomach now, and you can’t help it; The pressure offers sweet, sweet relief for the pain that has kept you on edge for the past eight hours and his touch sets every fiber of your being on fire. You push your hips back, wanting him to push his fingers deeper into the flesh. In response, his other arm comes to rest around your shoulders from the front, and he pulls you flush against him. 

In his attempt to make you more comfortable though, he accidentally brushes over your sensitive nipples, and you moan, so oversensitive from the hormone outburst, it hurts. 

He “accidentally” does it again, just to test a theory, and when you moan again, louder and higher this time, Matt realizes he just opened Pandora's box. You wouldn’t have asked him to even if it killed you, which it might, and he read somewhere that orgasms produce enough oxytocin to help with period cramps. He knows you don’t care much about studies, but he can’t deny that there is something plausible about this theory. Most importantly though, he just wants to help you. Hearing how much pain you are in hurts him, and he wants to stop your suffering in whatever way he can. 

“I have an idea,” he breathes into your ear, fingers moving lower until he reaches the hem of your sleep shorts that you haven’t bothered taking off. “Do you trust me?”

Goosebumps erupt on your skin. He keeps sending electrical shocks down your spine with his touch alone and no matter how hard you try to refuse yourself such a lucrative treat, your body has a mind of its own during this particular time of the month. Even though you’re in pain, the arousal is only a foot away. 

He pulls at the waistband when you don’t answer, letting it slap against your skin. It’s not painful, but you can feel the burn spread from your stomach straight to your core.

“But-” you try to interject. 

He won’t let you. “Do you trust me, angel?” he asks. 

“Always,” you say without hesitation. 

“Then let me help you.”

You’ve never done this before. You’ve never let him touch you during your period before, ever, not since you got together. You’ve always felt far from sexy, bloated and bleeding, and moody most of the time, if you’re not uncontrollably eating whatever you’re craving before puking from the pain, but you can’t help the whimper that passes your lips this time when a certain gush of wetness that isn’t blood starts coating the walls of your cunt. 

He’s shirtless and so incredibly hot, he looks almost biteable. His muscles flex, you can see every last dent in his bicep, and it grows seemingly two sizes every time he moves his hand to touch you. 

The way he’s almost choking you with his elbow has you clenching around nothing. And it hurts because God, you’ve never been this sensitive, not even after several rounds of sex with him, but you don’t care. Your clit pulsates and it rubs against whatever fabric is closest. The friction is bittersweet. You try to move your hips to feel the same jolt of electricity again, to get rid of the pressure resting between the sore folds of your cunt, but you can’t seem to find relief.

Matt grows confident in his actions and starts to cup your breast ever so slightly. You gasp, tears shooting into your eyes. Your brain is fuzzy. Your body tingles. Your nipples get hard the second he brushes them, and the more he squeezes, the harder they seem to get. Your skin flashes hot. You’re not sure what feels better – the hand on your stomach or the one on your breast. 

“Do you want to stay like this or can you sit up against the headboard for me?” you hear him ask. 

In your state, you can either nod or shake your head, and you’re not sure which one is the better option. The curled-up position is the only one you can feel comfortable in, but if you don’t sit up, he can barely touch you. It’s a desperate situation and you’re so overwhelmed, you want to cry — but it���s not a question of wanting anymore, you need to cry because your body is a bundle of hormones and your mind isn’t yours to command. 

He tilts your head toward him to kiss you. “It’s okay,” he whispers, “I’ve got you.”

You whimper again, tasting the coffee on his lips. 

Slowly, the hand that once rested on your stomach inches lower and lower and lower until… you throw your head back into the crook of his neck and he tightens his grip to make sure you don’t slip away. 

The moment he presses his calloused fingers to your clit, your vision explodes. You try to spread your legs while at the same time scratching at his arms and pulling at the dark hairs that adorn them. Your muscles are too sore to throw your leg over his hip, a familiar position from the many lazy mornings spent drowning in each other, and you can’t seem to find another way to get his hand closer either. He’s already cupping your pussy with his entire hand, drawing circles on your clit, and with how swollen it is you jolt with every stroke, but it’s still not enough. You need more space. 

“Wait,” you say. “I need… can you…”

The systems in your head completely shut down. 

He reads your mind. His hand slips away, pulling you up with him against the headboard. Instead of forcing you to sit up though, he places you over his lap, a pillow under your stomach, and your legs spread over his thighs. The slight bow in your back from the positioning of his knee works better than any position you could have thought of. 

“Better?” he asks.

You spread your legs wider. There’s enough space now, you can move freely and still roll over if you need to, and the sheets can easily muffle your moans.

“Sweetheart, talk to me,” he strokes a hand over your exposed ass cheeks, “are you okay?” 

You don’t want to imagine the mess you’re making, lying naked over his lap while actively bleeding out of the very folds he’s touching with his skilled fingers now. You’re wet enough for him to slide across them, returning to your clit. 

“Just touch me,” you whine. “Please, Matthew, just touch me.”

And for the love of God, you think, don’t think about the sheets. 

“Anything you want, baby. This is about you,” he says and finally, God finally, he gets to work.

There has to be something he takes to make his fingers feel so amazing every time he touches you. He never fails to amaze you with his skills. The fingers he uses as fists more often than not to beat criminals senselessly only do good for you. They comfort you and bring you pleasure where and whenever you need it most. He would never hurt you, especially not with his hands.

You cry out when he picks up the pace. “Matt,” his name is only but a breath on your lips, “Your fingers…”

“What about them?”

“I need them,” you say.

His thumb stays on your clit while he circles your entrance with his ring and index finger, pushing in only slightly and you hiss, as he expected, from the soreness of your walls.

“Fuck!”

“Relax,” he tells you. 

He moves his fingers deeper, slipping right in, the wetness and heat of you engulfing and hugging him like you were made to take him. He sighs and curls his fingers inside, finding your g-spot with ease. He knows exactly where to press to have you crying out in ecstasy, and you have to bite down on the sheets to keep yourself from screaming. 

Pain is the last thing you can think about. All you feel is the burning pleasure in your core, the electricity that spreads through your cunt like an explosion and rests in your lower stomach as the biggest knot you’ve ever felt, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel the pressure that has your legs shaking as it waits to be released.

All the while Matt keeps massaging your back with his other hand, matching the circles he draws on your clit and the thrusts of the two fingers that he has shoved deep inside of you. With every painting he draws, you inch closer to the edge of release. It’s only moments away, you can feel it. 

The sounds you’re making are incoherent, muffled through the sheets, but he can tell from the way you’re bucking into his hand that you’re closer than ever. 

“You’re doing so well for me, sweetheart,” he’s purring the gentlest of praises into your ear, “You’re such a good girl, letting me take care of you. You deserve it. You deserve to feel good.”

You moan, reach for his shoulder, and cling to his skin for dear life. Your legs start to shake around his hand, locking him in place. You’re thrashing around wildly, not letting him finger you but rather riding him in a way that has you coming faster than you thought possible. 

Matt only chuckles. “That’s it, take what you need. You can come whenever you need to,” he says. “And I know you need to, baby, so do it. Let go for me and come.”

“Oh, fuck, Matthew!”

Your walls spasm around his fingers as you come apart. You’re crying, moaning, possibly even screaming and you clench so hard around his fingers, you’re scared you might break them.

His tongue is silver, trained, and too damn good at articulating words that drag out your orgasm to the point it hurts, especially now. “That’s it. Let it out. I’ve got you.”

It wouldn’t stop. You’re wasted, exhausted, and spent, but you can’t stop from pulsating heavily around him. 

Only when the pleasure turns into an uncomfortable soreness does the wave of the orgasm start to ease back into the ocean. 

Your clit is aching, swollen, and wet from how coated his fingers are, and you can already feel the wetness trickling down your thigh. The blood, you think. It’s not just arousal or your cum, you’re sure of that. 

The bed probably looks like a crime scene now. You have to change the sheets. Not even as you’re crying, quivering from the intense orgasm, you can help the shame from swallowing you whole. He can’t see it but he can smell the copper. It has to be more than uncomfortable.

You whimper when you finally come down from your high, still holding onto his arm.

“The sheets,” you manage to choke out. “Matt, I’m so sorry…”

He shushes you. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I can’t not worry about it. I just bled all over your sheets.” 

He helps you sit up and into his lap where he holds you close to his chest.

“It’s just blood, baby,” he reminds you with a gentle kiss on your lips. “I don’t care. It’s natural. Besides, have you ever seen me not covered in blood?”

The crinkle in his eyes is playful and you manage to laugh softly.

“Hm?”

“No, I guess not,” you say. “But still…”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing.”

Your head drops to his shoulder. “I love you.” There are a million other things you want to say, but for now, those have to be enough. 

The pain is gone, finally, and you can breathe again without getting an excruciating headache. He hugs you tight to him, stroking your hair and kissing your scalp to make sure you’re okay, that you know you’re safe and that he wouldn’t go anywhere. He’s with you, until the end of the line.

“C’mon.” He manages to tear himself away from you eventually. “Let’s take a shower, yeah?”

You pout, feeling his dick more than hard in his sweatpants underneath you. “What about you?” you ask.

Matt shrugs, pulling you in for another kiss. “I’ll take care of that.”

“We can-“

“No,” he cuts you off with a finger to your very tired lips, “You’re too sensitive for that. Let’s wait another day and then we can think about it, okay? I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you already are.” 

Thanks to your hormones, his considerate nature has you crying like a baby in seconds.

He is confused at first, touching your contorted features in worry before he reminds himself that it’s normal. You’re more emotional than usual, but it’s okay because your body is doing unspeakable things that no man could ever understand, and you’re going to feel better soon enough. The world just sucks for now, then maybe again in the next twenty minutes if you happen to come across the picture of a very cute dog or watch one of your comfort movies, but you’re going to be fine. 

So instead of making fun of you for something you can’t control, which he never would but he knows that some of the men in your life have and it scarred you for life, he holds you to his chest and tells you, “You’re going to be okay.” And he keeps telling you this until you manage to stop crying and are smiling again, thankful and so in love, you forget how fucking awful you feel for just a second. 

It wouldn’t take long for the pain to reappear, but until then you could enjoy the relief in the arms of the man you love.

Having Matt Murdock by your side is much better than painkillers, and much more effective, too.  

And as you lie there on his lap, his arms around you and his lips on yours, you can’t help but keep wondering,

How did I get so lucky? 

[snifekinner]

do norway and iceland for the siblings meme ??

oh FUCK yeah i willl!

who hogs the game consoles?

they band together to hog them from everyone else. denmark is bouncing on the sofa just barely clinging onto his ability not to snatch, because nor and ice are locked in a tiebreak which has been going on for a full hour. he wants a turn so badly. nor and ice will deathmatch until they both starve to death or one of them wins, whichever is sooner.

who usually causes the fights?

norway. they both have low emotional intelligence but iceland is slightly more switched on (he's younger, he has younger friends). one might say he's securely attached. norway is very avoidant-dismissive attachment: he causes fights by getting too clingy, but sometimes also for being too distant and cold.

who steals the others' clothes?

norway steals everyone's clothes. iceland wouldn't want to steal norway's clothes. he doesn't even really like borrowing stuff off norway because you can never be sure if it's been washed recently.

who eats all the good snacks before the other can get any?

neither - norway will guard the snacks vigilantly to make sure ice gets his share, and iceland isn't the greedy sort, he never takes more than his share. denmark, however...

which one gets the top bunk or bottom bunk?

iceland goes top bunk because he's ever so slightly shorter, and because norway doesn't like not being able to get to a door easily. nor also goes bottom bunk because he wakes up during the night a lot so it's easier to get out of bed and go for a wander without disturbing ice

who speaks up when the other asked for no pickles?

lmao we all know it's nor speaking up for ice. it's not even a shyness thing, ice just hates being difficult with service workers.

which one likes to go into the other's room, fart, and immediately leave?

shared behaviour. probably more iceland because he's the little brother and everyone knows little brothers are the scum of the earth.

which one bails the other out of jail?

gonna say iceland bailing norway out of jail. norway's been arrested for snufkin-style crimes (trespass, vandalism, grand larceny). iceland doesn't get arrested, partly because he's not the type to break the law and partly because there's like 4 police officers in iceland and he knows them all by name

which one won't stop repeating an embarrassing story about their sibling as a child?

norway norway norway. not just one embarrassing story but multiple embarrassing stories. constantly. you ever heard the phrase, "to dine out on a good story" meaning it's a story you can tell loads of people over dinner? nor has a six course banquet about ice's childhood stories.

who do they each think the favourite child is?

they both know it's denmark.

that said, i did have a great story going with my friend anna (bruh idk what your tumblr is anymore, lmk so i can tag you) where ancient scandinavia (i.e. norway's mum) and he had a really fractious but interesting relationship. he always thought he was her least favourite but it was because she recognised he could use magic like her and wanted to make him tough. it was such a great story ugh, i should write a fic about it

ed: ITS @nyoiiceland !!! 💖

anyway thanks for the ask anon! if u wanna pm your blog i would love to send an ask back!

[pinkwinesupernovas]

(this is a lot of yapping sorry in advance babe)

dear zel,

i miss you rn so i'm writing this for you in english class and probably the class afterwards knowing me, (edit in printmaking period two, yes i am still writing this hehe)

i'm gonna be totally honest i'm literally writing my english assesment about you bc i was lost for inspiration and the promt fit soooo it's about our freindship hehe ily. i'm not totally sure if i'll submit this one for the final thing but writing about you makes me happy which is sappy as hell but i don't feel embarassed abt it bc you make me feel very safe to be embarrassingly sappy with you <3 i will send you the thing eventually even if i don't hand it in for marking but i don't think i'm allowed to post it cause it's school related so i'll send it on discord when i finish the first draft hehe <3 (i wrote 600 words about you in one hour that is lowkey scary)

also i'm going to yap about you nowww because i love youuuu mwah <3

i'm literally so glad we're friends, i'm not sure what our first interaction was but i think it was for your event?? and i am forever grateful for it i'm so glad we're friends you're literally one of my fav people i've met on this app i love you with my whole heartttt

one thing i loveee abt you is that i don't feel scared to spam your asks or tag you in one million things, idek what it is but you make me feel very safe to be sappy and clingy and i love that bc with most people i overthink whether i should send them things but with you i don't even hesitate bc ik you'll respond well and i love thatttt <3 you also match my enthusiasm and send lots of asks back and i love that sm <3

i literally adore talking to you bc you're such a sweet and kind person i'm lowkey in awe of it like how is one person so lovely you just light up the world ugh i love you sm, you're so fun to talk to and i just love you smmm (i hate timezones but six hours will not seperate us i love yapping with you too much)

alsooo just so you know, in my mind we're in a field of flowers together picking flowers and yapping while we eat pastries from a cute little bakery and drink like iced matcha or something that's my dream <333 i wish we could live closer bc i just know i'd love baking with you and stargazing and just dong cute little things whenever we wanted, just know that whenever i like your posts thats actually me mentally giving you a flower or two bc ily <3

also what i feel for you can be kind of wrapped up with a few songs so here: birds of a feather by billie, glue song by bea and clairo, the last one by maisie, feels like by gracie, and lots more but those are the songs that i can't listen to without thinking of you <3

ahhhhhh i'm still at school and stupid school wifi blocks tumblr AND discord (i've tried literally EVERY vpn i can it's so annoying ughhh) so i'll have to send this when i get home but just know i was thinking of you allllllll day at school and i miss you and i love you sm <3

okayyy this is written proof that i'm literally a proffessional yapper i've been adding to this on my notesapp throughout the day so i'm going to shut up now byeee i love you i'll send this when i get homeee <3

don't apologize oml

ALSO ARE YOU KIDDING ME IM GOING TO CRY LUCY THIS ACTUALLY MEANS SO MUCH TO ME you're not real

omg you wrote about us??? i would love love love to read it 🥹

you're right our first interaction literally was for my event which im so grateful for omg!!! cause we'd been moots for a while but i was very scared to interact w you but you engaged w my event and it made soooo happy

you're adorable and this right here made my whole day, i was feeling very sick in the morning and throughout the afternoon which HAS NOW DISAPPEARED SEEING ALL YOUR NOTIFS literally beaming w happiness rn

i love you so much, wayyy more than how much words can convey <333

[vgilantee]

bestie hi hello please help 😭

the masterlist link thingie for the 141omegaverse chronological posts is just taking me back to the big cod one and i have not been able to locate it otherwise, mayhaps where would that be?

also hi random checkin now bc yes, hows your day going? have you been eating and hydrating and all the stuff? <333

ugh tumblr hates me. i’ll add the tag to here so in theory you should be able to find them! i’ll fix the link up when i get home ^^ i do also have the cod masterlist tagged with the omegaverse tag

my day’s good! end of financial year down here so just at work making sure the accounting is input. lots of numbers… def hydrated and snacked up!

[princess-perfection]

from "The Chic Diet"

THINSPIRATION

“Sweat is just fat crying”

“Do not reward yourself with food—you're not a dog”

“Nothing tastes as good as being skinny feels”

“Do it for the thigh gap”

“Coffee, smokes and cold Diet Cokes”

“Hip bones and collarbones” “Eating isn't very Chanel”

Ohmigod, reblog, right? Every chic girl, no matter what her age, is obsessed with thinspo and fucking eats that shit for dinner. It's super satiating. There's a different type of thinspiration or fitspiration for whatever kind of mood you might be in, too. Those 13-year olds on Tumblr have really got you covered.

Feeling lazy? Go read some ridiculous inspirational quotes about “doing today what you won't regret in one year”. Er, guess I should go for a run now. Feeling hopeless? #Beforeandafter! Feeling ravenous? Go on an infinite scroll-fueled journey through a neverending compendium of candid photos of runway models. Ooh, Frida looks super skinny there. Gawd, look at Anja's hips. Abbey Lee's cheekbones—I die. And Vlada's clavicles? So jelly.

When you are really unable to drown out the annoying bitch that is your empty stomach, head for the darker side of thinspo. All of those angled shots of thigh gaps and artsy snaps of ribcages are really effective for quelling your appetite and making you hate yourself. These girls mean serious business. Gawd, I wish I had that kind of dedication.

Ooh, that one's kind of extreme. Like, I can literally see her bones, and not in the good way. Holy shit, her spine is like that of a fucking Stegosaurus. And, whoa, let's scroll past these uber quickly. Um, are those types of GIFs even allowed? They're kinda porn-y. Okay, now that's just porn.

Uh, I didn't really need to see your Post-Impressionist suicide collage note, spiraling-down-to-85lb, whoever the hell you are. Talk about sadsies. Er, what's with the razorblades? No, don't do that! Ohmigod, why are people taking pictures of blood? Is that a dead person?! Um, close window.

Ugh, now I really need a Xanax. So upsetting.

...But those shoulder blades that I just reblogged are totally my thinspiration. Ooh, let's go look at the tags for Alexa Chung and Snejana Onopka. Ohmigod, this blog is totes amaze—follow! And, like, did you see that picture of that girl's legs in those adorable knee-high socks? Gawd, I'm such a heifer. Time for a 5-day water fast!

[ellcrys]

15 questions

Tagged by @itstimetodrew~!! Thanks for the tag!! ☺️

1. Are you named after anyone?

No, I don't think so! I think my parents just went through the list of baby names for girls and settled on Joanna lol.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Uhh... I teared up watching one of the episodes of Blue Eye Samurai a couple days ago but the last time I Cried was on my flight back to Boston last Friday rewatching episode three of The Last of Us lmaoo. (I was like SURELY I won't cry on my nth rewatch... #rip to me)

3. Do you have kids?

*Puts on my meme hat* What am I a child bride?

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

Swimming and soccer growing up. I did ballet for like a year or two also when I was like 5. Since graduating college I haven't really done any sports, just working out at the gym pre-pandemic and then at home since the pandemic, although one of my friends is trying to start a pickup soccer group which I'll probs join if it takes off. Do want to get back into swimming again also. That's on my 2024 todo list. I've tried running as a hobby enough times to know that I suck at it and that I hate it lmao.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Does anyone not? lol

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Hmm, probably their outfit; I enjoy seeing people's different styles!

7. What's your eye color?

Brown <3

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings!!

9. Any talents?

Ugh, no?? I can't think of anything lol. Being a procrastinator and the ultimate lazy bum (only half joking). idk man, I used to be proud of my writing and amv skills but I haven't seriously tried to write anything in probably a decade and I don't think I'm ever getting back into making amvs lol. Letting things go/being resilient maybe? I'm at the point in my life where everything is just 'it is what it is', but I think I've always been good at moving on from things tbh. Life's too short to dwell.

10. Where were you born?

Wisconsin of all states lol

11. What are your hobbies?

Nothing creative anymore, that's for sure (#rip). Uh, I love going out and doing things. I'm the furthest thing from a homebody so being trapped at home during the pandemic drove me nuts. Things I do on the regular include visiting independent bookstores, art museums, and seeing shows. I try to travel/see someplace new on the regular, whether that's going out of state/country or walking through a new neighborhood in the Boston area. I love eating, definitely a foodie. I read a lot (more fanfic than actual lit these days whoops) and watch a lot of tv. I also enjoy just walking around and people watching (will frequently walk around the neighborhood/city without any real purpose in mind as I go crazy if I'm cooped up in my apt for too long). I also love sending snail mail and exchange postcards monthly with a friend in London, and send holiday cards/postcards to family/friends when I travel. I guess documenting my interests on Tumblr can also be considered a hobby considering how much time I spend on here lmao.

12. Do you have any pets?

No, but I plan to adopt a cat when I (hopefully) get my own place!

13. How tall are you?

5'4" :')

I'd love another two inches... just two measly inches :')))

14. Favorite subject in school?

Growing up, probably math. I was good at it, and I loved how logical it was. I also really enjoyed chem, probably because it was the most math adjacent science (hilariously though, I hated physics). In college obviously computer science, my major. Though I've always loved my literature classes also.

15. Dream job?

Man I'd love to open and own an independent bookstore/cafe. Dream job for real.

Tagging (if you want!) @lordsardine, @goldshitter, @akechikurusus, @popflythesky, and anyone else who wants to do this!

[captainaikus]

TW: ✨spicy✨ thoughts ahead 👀 you’ve been warned 😌

Belle. belle. bElLe. BELLE.

what. RIGHT. do you have. to make me malfunction like this??????

WASHOUT???? I am. Just. I cannot okay.

The lifting their chin with your forefinger???? The caging them to a wall???? The making them suck on your thumb????? ✨magnificent✨

Isagi is actually a babygirl. My man’s acts like he’s all that and then some on the field but we all know he’s eager to get home and whining for you at the end of the day. Like TELL me that this man doesn’t love being degraded and put in his place. UGH.

AND RIN!!??? He hates losing so much but yet here he is, flustered and desperate in front of you. And he was so so so determined to win too, awwww poor baby. I just KNEW jealousy was gonna play a factor into his cause come on now, Rin gets so jealous so easily and it’s the cutest thing ever. Almost cuter than him in a crop top.

BACHIRA. BACHIRA. BACHIRA. First of all. Your first Bachira fic was amazing and definitely worth the wait. But seriously. Baby thought he was gonna get away with teasing you all week? Sweetie, there are consequences to your actions you know? THE WAY HE WAS SO OBEDIENT AND GOOD. UGH. I can literally SEE him smirking up at you with your thumb in his mouth, all hard and desperate, while in his knees. The messing clay hands makes it even more fun. Toki is an interesting nickname, I’ve never heard it before. What’s it mean? OH!!! And have you ever seen that kind of fanart with a ship where it’s a two part?? Where one is talking to their friends while the other it talking to theirs?? And it’s a light shading to highlight the handprints on their bodies??? Which are also the others signature color??? UGH THAT BUT WITH YOU AND BACHIRA. PLS I CAN SEE IT NOW. Have I mentioned that Bachira is my favorite?

How are you btw?? How’s the other blog coming along? Uni still tiring? Are you taking breaks 🤨?? Eating 🤨?? Drinking water 🤨?? Don’t forget to take care of yourself love 😤😤. (I saw all of this with aggressive concern and affection btw).

As for me, Im doing pretty good. I’ve got midterms and final exams coming up. Ive Gita a few assignments to do tonight but nothing too hard, just kinda long. But winter break is almost here so Im really excited for that. Im currently craving fresh bread atm. Specifically with broccoli and cheese soup 🥹🥹. Anyways. I hope you’re taking care of yourself!!! (pls take care of yourself 😭❤️) *sending aggressive virtual hugs*

- ✨ anon

forgot to include in my last basket but like Belle 😭😭😭. you’re turning me so dominant. in THAT way. what am i supposed to do now huh 😭😭😭. all this dom energy and no pretty boys to take it out on 🥹🥹🥹. i blame you (lovingly). take responsibility (affectionately). - ✨ anon

I um (°ー°〃) ... i don't regret it (kiss it better slowed and reverb made me do it and its my fav song now) and i had a panicky moment cause washout wasn't showing up in the tags - turns out if i use links it doesn't show up in the main tag- smh tumblr. you had 1 job. just. 1 job.

Giving back character analysis of how i see the boys-

Rin got two fingers shoved down his throat ( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ )... hes lucky i didn't make it three

Isagi (sub leaning switch) is babygirl material. On the field he plays mean and rough, but when you're in charge? You can make him whimper. He is very shy when it comes to being in bed and on some days he just doesn't care (you'll see that when the other version is out) coming to terms with subby 'sagi; he is so innocent and cute, he will get turned on from the simple things you do.

Thigh fucking is his fav cause he whines and moans, begging you to let him cum.

Rin (dom leaning switch) - i have already decided on a nickname for him (sequel to my tears your comfort) but i'm caught between the two- so i gotta toss a coin to see which one we're rolling with. You wanna incite a reaction from this guy? Make him jealous. It's actually surprising that despite doing meditation and yoga, his patience snaps like a twig when he sees you dancing with another man despite knowing that you're loyal to him.

Rin wears designer clothes, but if we think abt him wearing a fishnet vest under a crop top for a second... time to fuck his brains out

He subbed his way through this one if you get it you get it Bachira (sub leaning switch fite moi) This is the first time I introduced him properly on the blog and poor baby ended up getting punished. He can already pull off a pretty good ahegao face for a start, so... convince me that he isn't a sub leaning switch. And YES! I know that image of handprints over each other- Bachira's would be orangey/ red and your's is white/gray , Bachi got less on us tho- there is more of it on him. I gave so much of a spoiler away for my tears, your comfort for Bachira and his edition of your words my hurt is not even out yet smh.

So for the nickname in Meguru's case... I really wanted it to be 'Harry' - cause harry POTTER (ik you get it- Bachira is the least creative when it comes to nicknames) and for me, I don't see names as a way of categorizing gender? but i thought some people wouldn't like being called Harry so i played safe and used toki instead which is the japanese word for pottery. or i was thinking abt keeping the nickname as 'nendo' which means clay as well- but Harry clicked... (might change the nickname to that when i release your words my hurt + sequel bachira edition)

ik bachira was your fav- i put it first for a reason (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)و

coming to the part of establishing the reader as the dominant one in washout... it was purely self indulgent and i'm gonna let myself a little loose and say that i'm not a submissive person is a dom/ major dom minor sub and since i've writing a sub reader for too long, my patience snapped and... uh yeah dom came out.

(and i like the fact that we're making people dominant here)

I'm doing alright! Uni is going great, i was late to class by twenty minutes and had a girlboss moment with answering questions (yes i am THAT girl) forgot to take my gloves today and i had to wash out the dirt again (these books are too old like 1940s old) i finished drinking over 2 bottles of water - i don't know how many gallons it was but i knew i needed it cause staying hydrated is important

٩꒰｡•◡•｡꒱۶

I actually ate more than usual today- lasagna, ice cream (gave me a sore throat- very smart isabelle. just had to eat something cold in cold weather when yk its not good for you), fries and chocolates. sausage and rice too but we won't talk abt that

as for the other blog...yk the drill moot; crying abt oliver and becoming mutuals with people who are active on my main blog and interact with me (∩˃o˂∩)♡

Oof exams! Good luck with that- and take it easy okay? *thinking if i should make a set of hcs for stuff like this* broccoli and cheese soup T-T (wants to have soup too) i hope you have your meal and savor it.

And yea i'm taking care! *busy watching moomin*

*sending back hugs*

[alectology-archive]

I posted 4,689 times in 2022

659 posts created (14%)

4,030 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@tigraine-mantear

@phantomxblood

@longsightmyth

@macbethwitches

@liesmyth

I tagged 4,363 of my posts in 2022

Only 7% of my posts had no tags

#q - 908 posts

#wheel of time - 707 posts

#the locked tomb - 588 posts

#text - 508 posts

#aelia reads wheel of time - 305 posts

#wot book spoilers - 270 posts

#art - 211 posts

#animals - 166 posts

#tropes and narratives - 152 posts

#rand al'thor - 151 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#unless this really does take place centuries after the last battle in which case it makes zero sense to create a ‘dragon’s peace’ after rand

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

"To be Aes Sedai is to be what you decide it is," Rand said, his stump still held behind his back. "Moiraine cared. You could see it in her, even when she was calm. The best Aes Sedai I've known are the ones who others complain aren't what an Aes Sedai should be."

I mean the scene is already touching for many reasons because rand tells nynaeve that he appreciates how passionate and caring she is but god don't I love him for pointing out that nynaeve and moiraine are actually really similar.

272 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

#4

The forsaken are so fail and cringe. All of them want lews therin carnally and only lanfear is the one brave enough to admit it.

276 notes - Posted January 9, 2022

#3

“Anyway, I don’t like how many of these spells are about sheer control,” said Palamedes.

ugh just thinking about how palamedes was the first one to possibly understand that the megatheorem added up to something heinous. the constant theme that the tests in the facility at canaan house have is violence on the cavalier, consumption of the cavalier, dehumanisation of the cavalier, and palamedes cares so much for camilla that he was immediately alerted to the sort of direction the whole thing was headed.

501 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#2

By the way I love how harrow is an absolute bitch in gtn. She has no chill whatsoever. She will kill herself before she asks somebody to help her. She refused a glass of water after not eating/drinking anything for 27 hours just because gideon offered it to her. She approved of gideon kicking third house ass because she hates their vibes even if gideon technically violated her rules by engaging them in the first place. She wakes up long enough to contradict palamedes when he calls himself the greatest necromancer of their generation before fainting again. She hates dulcinea's guts because she wants her girl.

1,258 notes - Posted October 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Elayne Trakand

44,227 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[hyacinthsgirl]

The two of them sat all wrapped up in a blanket against the long night. Their old apartment creaked and let in the icy fingers of the cold winter, but moments like this managed to keep off the chill. Chris was the only person that liked poetry as much as Graham did. Maybe it was because he raised her, maybe it was just in her nature, but it created a small world for the two of them. He had a small, black book open and read lines to her. They talked and laughed until the drowsiness hit. (1/2)

‘Can’t be too comfortable- can’t just enjoy a moment for awhile’ Sleep dragged him down mid-sentence, words bubbled up slightly as he tried to hang on. ‘Come on.’ He thought ‘I work in the morning, stay awake.’ As his vision blurred, he put the book down and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was annoying and he didn’t want to let the sleep overtaken him as at always does. No, he needed to move and jump and shout to scare it off. Through a hazy mind, he forced himself to scoop her up and stand with her in his arms. “Here, Chris, point in a direction, anywhere!” She pointed, and he barreled forward, roaring like a bear to shake sleep down from the rafters. When he reached the spot on the opposite wall, he stopped yelling just as quickly as he started. “Okay, where to next?”

     HER LOVE for poetry was born years before she could understand the meaning of most of her favorite works. First came the love for assonance, for images connected to one another, for her dad’s voice and his warm hands flipping one page after the other while Chris rested her head against his shoulder. Words warmed her up more than radiators and blankets. When she was bored or didn’t have much to read, she’d take one of Graham’s books and reread all those poems on her own, but it wasn’t the same thing. Letters didn’t rise from their page to spin together like they did when his voice gave them life. They stayed shadows on a snowy ground, projected scenes and landscapes into her head but never painted them before her eyes. It was a tad sad. Thankfully, though - she thought with half-closed eyes, curling up against Graham under the blanket - she was still young enough to ask him to read something to her over and over again.

     Slowly Graham’s yawns grew longer and more frequent, and Chris looked up at him. He was forcing himself to keep reading, but she was too smart not to recognize the signs of growing sleepiness on his face. On the one hand she wanted to tell him they could stop reading for tonight so that he could rest, while on the other… ah, she was just a little girl, no older than nine, and she wanted nothing more than one more poem, one more verse before bedtime. She was cruelly selfish in the way all children are - even the special ones. How could she be blamed for wishing for more words in spite of another’s needs?

     Her father himself solved her moral dilemma. He closed the book and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Chris thought he’d now tell her it was time to sleep - an order she’d follow while feeling a little dissatisfied inwardly. In fact, Graham took her in his arms and jumped on his feet, making their blankets fall behind him on the couch like late autumn leaves. Chris threw her small arms around his neck and laughed, the few crumbles of sleep hidden in the corner of her eyes falling down as soon excitement replaced them. In that bright chaos, she didn’t know in which direction she pointed her finger; she was aware only of Graham rushing in that direction and roaring, just like one of the wild animals described in the last poem he had read her seconds prior. When they reached the corner of the living room, Chris was still laughing. The sound of her amusement drowned her dad’s question, which she answered after a while, not only with words but also with a big grin and her stretched-out hand pointing at the door and the corridor. “There! Let’s go there!”

     Bedtime wouldn’t come anytime soon tonight.

[wheelsup]

a friendly bet

category: fluff/humor, spencer x reader warnings: briefly jealous Spencer word count: 1.34k A/N: this blurb was requested by loml @rigatonireid! the prompts are: "you're absolutely dreadful" + "you're my favorite know-it-all"

Spencer Reid really does know it all. His intelligence might be the most attractive thing about him — tied with his face, his hair, his height, his kind eyes.... Maybe Spencer Reid is just overall attractive and you love everything about him, inside and out.

So yes, you’re completely biased on the topic of your boyfriend, but you are aware not everyone shares this fondness of his brain.

He can’t really help that he corrects people all the time — his impulse just takes the steering wheel and makes his mouth move before he can consider if it’s appropriate to comment. The rest of the team is familiar with the quirk, but even they still take offense from time to time.

And the strangers you meet on cases are even less receptive to it. Local law enforcement tends to think that the FBI only shows up to throw their weight around their city, and Reid’s little know-it-all interjections only increase the tension.

It makes it that much harder to get along with them, which isn’t always something your team can afford when the stakes are high. So, you decided to make him a friendly bet that he couldn’t go one whole day without correcting someone on an instance it wasn’t truly necessary.

“I thought you liked my rambling?” Spencer’s bottom lip curled into a pout that you quickly smoothed away with your thumbs.

“I do! I just… think it might make things easier if you hold back a little. Some of the guys here are getting their feelings hurt.” You laughed and stroked his cheek, coaxing a smile out of him. Your proposition wasn’t a criticism of him. It was of everyone else.

“There’s no way I correct people that much,” Spencer scoffed and rolled his eyes, playfully pushing your face away from him like you were being ridiculous.

“Then take the bet and we’ll find out.”

And sorry to say, there was a way.

Not an hour into the day, the vein on Spencer’s forehead was at danger of bursting through his skin. It only came out when he was angry or deep in focus, and you really couldn’t pick which of the two were causing it now. (It was a bit of both.)

This morning, you were trailing about thirty feet behind everyone when coming into the station and Spencer, being the good boyfriend he is, held the door open for you the extra ten seconds. The receptionist at the front desk subsequently chewed him out about ‘letting all of the cold air come into the office’.

That was Spencer’s first test of the day.

Surely, every person in the world knows that’s not how thermodynamics work. Not even close. And if she didn’t know that, that was definitely cause for concern. So really, this felt like a necessary time for Spencer to speak up. For her sake.

But he saw the way your eyebrow quirked up and he knew it was a challenge. It was too easy of a win for you. So he decided to bite his tongue and apologize for the inconvenience.

His second test rose from an argument between Morgan and Prentiss. The barista Hotch picked up drinks from messed up the team’s order and they discovered they were short one coffee. Both threw empty threats at the other and insisted they needed the drink more, but it had come to a stalemate.

“Emily, I worked late last night.”

“What happened to ladies first?” She slid the cup to herself, and Morgan snatched it right back.

“I’m not seeing any lady here!”

Before Emily tossed her chair at Morgan’s head, Hotch suggested they just flip a coin to make it totally fair.

Spencer’s brain was screaming inside: The odds of a coin toss are actually 51/49! Trials have shown that a coin favors landing on the side that was facing up when it was thrown, so really, whoever picks that side has a better chance!

It isn’t so much a correction as it is a fun fact. A harmless little fun fact, surely people would like to hear it! He should share it, they’ll love it.

But you remembered Spencer telling you about this once before, and your eyes are narrowing on him with a smug expression.

‘Come on. Tell them’ your face seems to say. He knows it’s bait, and he doesn’t bite. Thirty-seven minutes into the day. He can do it.

And to your surprise, he did last. For a while. (A while being an hour and twenty-four minutes.)

After the morning briefing, Spencer saw some young male deputy follow you into the conference room. Where you were working. Alone. Why the hell did he need to speak to you alone?

He’s tall with cover-boy good looks (much like Spencer himself), but the thing that Spencer hated most about him was the way he’d been looking at you all week. It’s a nicer word than Spencer would use — he’d say it was more like staring. Watching. Creeping.

Yeah, that’s the one. He’s a creep and Spencer’s very suspicious of him.

So, he did what anyone would do and hid behind a tall potted plant near the window to peek into the room through the blinds. (It’s very inconspicuous, they should use him to go undercover sometime.)

“Can I help you with something?” You gave a polite, tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah, I was just, uh—” he forced a laugh and rubbed his neck in some lame attempt to be charming that made Spencer roll his eyes. “I was wondering if you could fill me in on the investigation.”

He placed a couple of files onto the table next to you and rested a hand on the back of your chair.

You blinked uncomfortably between his sudden proximity and the flirtatious expression adorning his face. “Oh, uh, did you miss the briefing?”

He shook his head no. He was there, he was just making an excuse to come talk to you.

“Could you talk me through it again? I guess I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.” He flashed a smile and leaned his elbow on the table, effectively boxing you in with his whole body.

Before you could tell him to kindly fuck off, you got distracted by the sound of rustling leaves. Then four seconds later, Spencer burst in through the door.

“Actually!” he huffed, a little out of breath, “Goldfish have a long-term memory ranging from three to five months.” Once he catches it, he crosses his arms over his chest and straightens out his spine to make himself bigger. “So you should be able to figure it out on your own. Unless your brain is smaller than a goldfish’s, of course.”

You have to clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from laughing at the deputy’s beet-red face. Spencer scrambled to pick up the files and shoved them back into the deputy’s arms as he “gently” ushered him out the door.

“That was cute of you.” You left a soft kiss on that protruding forehead vein that was finally beginning to go away. “You lost, by the way.”

.

“There’s no way you’re making me do this.” Spencer stood in front of your bathroom mirror with the grimmest expression on his face.

“Sorry, cutie, but you lost,” you teased, preening his hair into place.

A few weeks ago you saw an old picture of Spencer with his hair slicked back, and it’s all you’ve been thinking about ever since. You thought it made him look model-level good and begged him to do it again, but he was of a different opinion. Now, he had no choice in the matter.

“I can’t go to work like this, I’ll look like a joke. There has to be something else!”

“This is the only thing I want.”

He sighed, shoulders sinking as his whole body deflated. “You’re absolutely dreadful.”

You planted a sloppy, exaggerated kiss on his furrowed brows and continued combing the gel into his hair. “And you are my favorite know-it-all.”

-

visual aid (tumblr wouldn't let me insert it ugh)

-

taglist: @ellesgreenaway @suburban--gothic @sturmmhond @ssa-sarahsunshine @mercy-burning @reidspurple @mediocre-writer @honeyboysteezy @blondefrnk @andreasworlsboring101 @ssa-m-187 @calm-and-doctor @drayshadow @s1utformgg @reidgifs @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @you-sunshine @altsvu @reidtheprettyboy @goose-eats-god @sonnydoesrandomshit

broken tags: @iamonlyhereforcriminalmindsthings

[weasleylangs]

if you don’t know, let me go - f.w

Pairing: Fred x Fem!Slytherin!Reader Summary: It’s always seemed like they’ve been dancing the line between friends and more, so why does he take a different girl to the ball? Warnings: Some swearing, pining that one character is too much of a dummy to see, a bit of angst but it eventually becomes fluff I promise, jealousy but nothing toxic, underage drinking but it’s like one line. Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: This is my first fanfiction in literally forever, so any feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open if you like this and want more! Also this got stupidly long fast, I can barely write book reviews on Goodreads without writing a novel so my bad, I’m sorry if you don’t like long fics. (Also cross-posted on AO3 as the tumblr tags don’t seem to be my friend right now.) 

- Also, thank you so much to @lumosandnoxwriting for answering all my questions on how to get back into writing!

Send me an ask or a dm if you would like to be added to a tag list!

---------------------------------------------------

“Do you think he’s going to ask you?” 

It’s Wednesday afternoon, late enough for class to be over but too early for dinner and Y/N’s attempt at understanding anything in her potions textbook is broken by Alicia Spinnet talking to her. Despite the fact she hadn’t said a name, Y/N knows immediately who she was talking about and she shrugs in response, closing her book and accepting that studying was not on the table for the rest of the night now the ball has been mentioned. 

“Probably not.” She deadpans. Y/N’s been trying not to get her hopes up that Fred would ask her to the Yule Ball since it was announced three days ago. Alicia’s already been asked by George- who immediately did a dramatic reenactment of some muggle proposal he’d seen in a movie as soon as Dumbledore announced it. But Fred had been more reluctant to ask anyone, despite people’s assumption that he could get anyone he pleased. Y/N only hoped this was because he was too shy of taking whatever they were from friends to lovers.

No one really understood how the outspoken and mischievous redhead became friends with the snarky Slytherin girl, but 6 years into their schooling people have stopped questioning it. They had formed an unexplainable bond the second they met on the train to Hogwarts when they were eleven years old that may have included both shouting at blood purists and now it seems to have evolved into something beyond just a friendship. 

Lingering stares, soft touches, the fact neither of them had really dated anyone else because they were too caught up with each other. Everyone, including their friends, have all placed bets on how long it’ll take for the two of them to ‘fess up and finally get together.

“What makes you say that?” Alicia asks, genuinely. She’s heard first hand the teasing George and Lee give Fred over his feelings for Y/N in the Gryffindor common room when they think they’re alone so she finds it hard to believe he hasn’t even hinted at them going together yet. 

Y/N shrugs. “I just think if he wanted to go with me, he’d ask me by now… Y’know?” Alicia can’t really deny her logic. Fred’s never been the one to shy away from being outspoken about anything really in the whole six years she’s known him, so even she can admit it’s weird that Fred hasn’t asked her.

“Maybe he just assumes you guys are going together?” Alicia starts, and before Y/N can argue back, she holds up a hand, “I’ll ask him after dinner tonight. I can guarantee Lee or George will join in and you’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!” Y/N shakes her head and laughs, and starts packing her things, mumbling about Alicia is a meddler and that she’ll see her later.

-

Y/N’s walking to the Great Hall for dinner when it happens. Adrian Pucey, star quidditch chaser for the Slytherin team slinks up next to her and scares her enough to almost drop the books she has clutched in her hands. She’s never had a problem with Adrian- their parents are in similar friendship circles so she sees him at family friend events outside of school, but she’s never considered him a friend either, which is why his approach to her is so odd.

“Sorry about that,” he laughs, shoving his hands in his pockets as Y/N clutches her chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” she starts, “You’re just very quiet. I’m used to being almost tackled to the ground when I see friends.” She laughs, but she doesn’t miss the awkward tension in the air and she can’t help but assume what’s coming next. 

“I just wanted to ask if, uh, if you don’t have a date to the ball… If you’d like to go with me?” 

Y/N gulps. She knows she shouldn’t be putting all her eggs in the Fred Weasley marked basket, but she can’t help but remember her conversation with Alicia only an hour ago.

‘You’ll have your date by Transfiguration tomorrow!’

Adrian senses her hesitation and lets out a breath that sounds like he’s almost laughing. “You’re waiting for one of Weasley twins to ask you, aren’t you? Fred, right?” She hates how easily he caught on.

“Adrian, I- Ugh, I’m sorry. But yeah… I am.” She feels her cheeks heat up in embarrassment at someone she’s not even friends with pointing it out. She can’t help but think maybe this is a sign though, that if everyone else is expecting it, why hasn’t he asked her yet? 

“No, it’s all good. But the offers on the table if he’s too pussy to ask you out.” He gives a kind smile as he walks off to catch up with Marcus Flint who’s drilling Malfoy about quidditch plays.

She exhales slowly and finally makes it to the Great Hall. She scans the tables looking for her closest friend in Slytherin- Daphne Greengrass and once she finds her, she quickly makes her way over to her. Dinner is relatively uneventful since she’s sitting with her house, and George manages to catch her eye at one point and mouths ‘miss you’ to which she laughs and says she misses him back.

She’s about to get up and leave when the last thing she expects to happen, happens. She hears Ron exclaim loudly that Fred can’t make fun of him for not having a date because he doesn’t have one either. Y/N feels her heart start to race, knowing if anyone’s going to prove a point to Ron, it’ll be Fred Weasley. She doesn’t hear what Fred’s reply is but Harry and Ron both scoff, and one of them says ‘ask a girl out if it’s so easy then.’ 

Y/N’s about to approach the Gryffindor table when George’s eye catches her, and he shakes his head. Fred has already thrown a scrunched-up piece of paper at Angelina and her heart sinks. 

“Angelina! Will you go to the ball with me?” 

As Angelina laughs and says yes to Fred, it feels like the whole Great Hall is either watching their altercation or watching Y/N in pity. Her heart now feels like it’s in her throat, and she needs to get out of the room before she cries or yells at Fred. She pivots on her heel and is met face-to-face with Daphne, who nods in silent agreement that they’re going back to their dorm. 

Y/N is halfway down the long tables with the door in her sights when she spots Adrian out of the peripheral of her eye. She can tell he’s looking at her in pity and in a weird way, she feels the need to show defiance against Fred Weasley. She needs to show she doesn’t need pity, especially right now, that she can get a date herself. So she stops in front of the Slytherin quidditch team and slightly smirks. 

“That offer to the ball still on the table?” 

-

Daphne spends the night taking Y/N’s mind off the Weasley family. They sit in their dorm together, once again trying to study for potions which eventually leads into ball talk yet again. Daphne can tell the idea of going to the ball with anyone who isn't Fred is unnerving for Y/N, but there’s no backing down now.

“That was kind of a badass move, y’know?” She starts, treading lightly as they eventually reach the elephant in the room, ‘Asking Adrian after what happened.”

It doesn’t feel badass to Y/N. She feels like she’s cheating on the redhead that owns her heart, but she knows that’s ridiculous. Fred clearly has no form of feelings for her and she’s decided to get over him. 

“It’s nothing…” She starts and she sees Daphne’s eyebrows raise. They’ve been roommates every year since they started school together so they’re both aware this is a big lie. “I didn’t want to go alone. Everyone else had dates already and Adrian’s nice. Plus, he did ask me before…”

Daphne nods, not wanting to press further. “Have you got a dress yet?” It had said on their packing list for the school year to bring a dress or dress robes so everyone’s already well prepared. Y/N nods and walks towards the closet before pulling out a floor-length silver gown with lace detailing. She smiles shyly as Daphne gasps in awe. 

“Eat your heart out, Fred Weasley!” For the first time all night, Y/N laughs. She knows she’s going to look stunning in the dress and while she has no ill resentment towards Angelina for agreeing to go with Fred, she can’t help but feel a little bit coy knowing Fred’s going to see her in it. 

- 

She’s sitting at her desk in Transfiguration the next day when he finally acknowledges her presence. She’s twiddling her quill in her fingers, dreading the moment the troublemaker waltzes into the class. His usual seat is the one next to her, while George and Lee sit in front of them but she can only hope Alicia takes the hint and sits with her before Fred does.

She doesn’t get her wish. She’s about two seconds away from dozing off when the seat screeches against the hardwood flooring below them and she looks to her left to see Fred smirking.

“Hi love,'' he starts, the nickname not feeling out of ordinary, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.” He says, and it’s true. He hadn’t seen her since class yesterday. He had looked for her before dinner to tell her about the prank he’d pulled on Filch with George while she was studying and he’d barely seen her during dinner. 

Her heart starts to speed up at the nickname, and she forces down the bile she feels growing in her throat. “Yeah, I just ate dinner and went to bed yesterday. Been studying for potions. Sixth year is hard.” She’s trying to be short and sweet and maybe a little blunt but Fred doesn’t pick up on it. “Heard you asked Angelina to the ball too.” She’s hoping to whoever’s listening to her prayers that the jealousy isn’t evident in her voice and by the dopey smile that grows on Fred’s face, her prayers were answered.

“Yeah! Ron was being such a prat, telling me I couldn’t make fun of him for…” But she drowns his voice out. It might be a bitch move, but she really doesn’t need to hear the who, where, when and why he asked Angelina out. It’s clear to Y/N that Fred didn’t even notice her existence at dinner and that stings more than she’d like to admit. 

She can barely concentrate during class. Fred has never really shown to care about any academic success, so he spends the entire period trying to entertain Y/N and get her to speak to him but she’s being stubborn and Fred can’t help but wonder what he did wrong. He starts to think maybe she’s just had a bad day, but when the bell rings and she storms off without even saying goodbye to him he’s dumbfounded.

“Trouble in paradise, brother?” George teases when he sees the frown adorned on Fred’s face. 

“Have I done anything to upset Y/N?” He questions and he sees the way George and Lee both give each other a look. They know something he doesn’t and that leaves a feeling of uneasiness in his chest. Y/N and himself have always been closer than her and George and especially her and Lee. He was there for her when her parents were fighting constantly when she was 11 and when Marcus Flint started bullying her in 3rd year. He was even there when she cried to him last year about the guy she loved and how he was so stupidly blind to her feelings and while she didn’t give a name, Fred was dying to go punch whoever it was for not realising he had his best friend’s heart.

“If you have, it’s not up for us to tell you, mate.” Lee states and he hides behind George when he notices the scowl on Fred’s face. Lee knows better than to get between him and Y/N, but he isn’t wrong. 

“Look, Alicia said she was fine when they left the library yesterday evening,” George starts, and he knows he shouldn’t be lying to his brother and best friend, but it’s not a huge lie, and maybe it’ll push his oblivious brother to realise what he did to upset his best friend, “She was at dinner last night when you asked Angie to the ball and then she went to her dorm with Daphne. Heard something about her saying yes to Adrian Pucey asking her to the ball…” While George made extra emphasis on the fact Y/N witnessed Fred asking Angelina to the ball, Fred’s eyes glaze over in rage when George mentions Adrian and he has a feeling his twin has got the wrong idea.

“I bet Adrian did something to her. Fuck him, honestly.” And before George and Lee can stop him, Fred’s stalking out of the classroom with Adrian Pucey in his sights.

- 

Fred doesn’t find Adrian until later that afternoon, standing on the pitch and clad in his quidditch robes, yelling at someone who Fred assumes is Montague. He thinks now is probably a bad time to confront him, but he's blinded by the thought that he’s hurt Y/N. 

“Pucey!” He shouts and when Adrian turns around, he chuckles and smirks at Fred. He was expected this later rather than sooner, specifically during dinner, but he guesses now will have to do. 

“What?” He asks, but they both know why he’s here and he’s just enjoying riling Fred up. 

“What did you do Y/N?” Adrian scoffs at this and shakes his head which confuses Fred. “What did I do to Y/N?” Fred stands his ground, chest puffed up. Adrian might be a fair bit shorter than Fred but Adrian hasn’t got anything to be scared of. Sure he’s seen Fred throw a punch or two and he’s definitely been on the receiving end of a bludger from the Weasley during a game, but he knows he isn’t the one that hurt Y/N here. 

“I think you should be asking yourself that, mate. Y/N only agreed to going to the ball with me after you asked Angelina out right in front of her.” This causes Fred to look at Adrian in confusion and Adrian laughs at Fred again. He’s confused, why would asking Angelina out hurt Y/N? 

It turns out he said that out loud, because two seconds later Adrian is responding to him, “Because she was expecting you to ask her, Weasley.” 

Adrian doesn’t even wait for Fred’s reply before stalking off to the Slytherin change rooms and Fred’s left standing on the pitch, wondering why the ache in his chest is almost debilitating at the thought of hurting Y/N and questioning why he feels the need to throw up knowing she’s happily going with Adrian Pucey. 

-

Fred’s next port of call is finding Y/N. After his talk with Adrian, he needs to find out why she expected him to ask her to the ball. He would’ve happily gone with her, but to Fred, she hadn’t even dropped a single hint at wanting to go with him and when she’s finally located, she’s in the library with Daphne. 

“This is my exit cue,” Daphne mutters as she notices the redhead roaming around the library looking for Y/N. She doesn’t even have a moment to question Daphne before the seat in front of her is suddenly occupied by the last person she was hoping to see again.

“Why are you going with Pucey?” Is the first thing that leaves Fred’s mouth, and it wasn’t what Y/N was expecting. She splutters, only for a few seconds, before eventually replying.

“He asked me.” 

Fred’s eyebrows furrow, but didn’t Pucey say she wanted to go with him? “A little birdie said you wanted to go with me. So, how come you’re going with him.”

Now Y/N scoffs and Fred can’t help but notice how many people are scoffing at him today just for asking questions and it’s getting annoying. “You didn’t ask me. He did. So, I said yes. Don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.” She’s intentionally being short, hopefully not spilling anything about her feelings for the boy in front of her. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to go with me, Y/N. How was I supposed to know?” At this, Y/N goes from feeling hurt to angry and she can’t explain why her hands start to shake. 

“How were you supposed to know?” She exclaims loudly which causes her to receive a rather nasty ‘sh’ from Madam Pince and a few O.W.L students surrounding her. 

“Have you seen the way we act around each other Fred?” She’s now whisper yelling and the confused look on Fred’s face as she says this just aggravates her further and she’s convinced no one is this daft and he’s pushing her buttons on purpose. “Because everyone thinks we’re fucking dating already, Fred. You have to constantly be touching me, we’re always together, you call me darling and love and you kiss me on the forehead when I fucking bring you sugar quills from Hogsmeade because they’re your favourite and whenever you have spare money you always buy me Honeydukes chocolate because you said you like seeing me blush when you buy me things. You’re telling me now that we’re just friends?”

If the ache in Fred’s chest was almost debilitating on the quidditch pitch earlier, right now it feels like he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. Her cheeks are flushed, her fists are clenched, pieces of her hair are falling out of her bun that’s resting on top of her head and, worst of all, Fred’s noticed the tears of anger and frustration pooling in her eyes.

She sighs before continuing, trying to compose herself so he doesn’t see her crying over him, unaware he’s already noticed the tears threatening to fall. Her voice is sad and broken, and it feels like the ending point for her. 

“I was just stupid enough to assume this year was the year we would finally admit we’re more than friends, Freddie. But I guess all this time it’s been one-sided. I hope you have a good time at the ball with Angelina.” 

Fred grabs her wrist as she starts to pack up her things and looks at her, scanning her face for any form of emotion. “Let me go, Fred.” She looks at him with pleading eyes and he lets go of the grasp he has on her wrist.

Fred doesn’t try to stop her again as she hastily packs up her things and he sadly watches her leave the library without turning to look at him. 

-

Y/N doesn’t care if it’s considered dramatic, but she lays in bed and cries for the rest of the day. While she hasn’t gone through a literal break-up, it feels like her friendship with Fred is over. At least, she’s decided, it’s over until she gets over her feelings for him. 

Daphne tries everything in her power to comfort her. She rubs her back, plays with her hair and even puts on ABBA to try and get Y/N to dance just to cheer her up. Y/N feels horrible she’s basically conned Daphne into babysitting her breakdown but Daphne constantly reassures her it’s okay. 

“Do you want me to go beat him up? I might be short and weak and he’s the size of a tree but I could take him.” Y/N sniffles a laugh at this, and smiles. She’s truly grateful for everything Daphne’s been doing for her and she makes a mental note to get her an extra special Christmas present next time she goes to Hogsmeade. 

However, it turns out essentially ending the friendship with Fred ends her friendships with most of the Gryffindors. She was expecting this, but when George can’t even meet her eye in class her heart breaks into even smaller pieces. George has always been like a brother to her, someone she could tell anything too without worry of being judged. He was the first person she told when she realised she liked Fred and Y/N was the first person, besides Fred, that George told his feelings for Alicia for. 

Y/N feels alone but she’s stubborn so she refuses to show it. She sits with Daphne in every class, essentially kicking poor Cassius Warrington who’s been pining after Daphne for 3 years into a different spot in class and she sometimes even sits with Adrian during lunch. It turns out they have a lot more in common than just the fact they’re in Slytherin and pure-bloods and Y/N’s pain in her chest is slowly but surely disappearing. 

While her feelings for Fred still exist, her heart slowly feels like it’s being mended. It’s only when she spots Fred sulking during lunch one day that the ache returns. She was usually the one who he went too when feeling bad- him being too embarrassed to go to George. She hopes he’s okay, but she shakes the idea of approaching him, knowing he’s got Angelina to keep him company. The pang in her chest stays a little bit longer that day. 

-

The Yule Ball arrives quicker than expected and Y/N and Daphne spend all day getting ready with a bunch of other Slytherin students. It’s nice, while they don’t all usually get along, the house loyalty between them is unmistakable. 

Most of them are acutely aware of Y/N’s ‘Weasley Situation’ and while some of them give her pity looks, most of the younger girls have expressed their jealousy that she’s going with Adrian. This makes her laugh and shake her head and she often replies that boys aren’t all that and no boy is worth being jealous over. She feels like a wise mother almost, never wanting them to feel the way she’s felt the past few weeks.

Daphne and Y/N arrive at the Great Hall together, giggling about how bad Y/N is at walking in heels and placing bets on how quick they’re going to come off. While Daphne is counting her galleons in her purse to confirm the bet, Y/N catches a glimpse of Fred and Angelina. He looks so handsome, his dress robes a mixture of gold and black and she can’t help but think how well they’d go together. But when she looks at Angelina she feels like she’s going to pass out.

Angelina is stunning, and there’s no doubt about it. She’s in a floor-length dark purple gown that compliments her skin perfectly and Y/N thinks if Fred was going with anyone to the ball, she’s glad it’s Angelina. 

Cassius and Adrian soon appear by the girls and take their arms into the Great Hall that’s been transformed to look like a winter wonderland. The roof tonight is bewitched to look like a winter, snowy day and Y/N can’t help but admire it. She’s grown up with magic her entire life, but she can’t help but constantly be amazed.

Adrian pulls a flask out of his dress robes jacket which makes Y/N snort and he smiles happily at her. Of course he snuck Firewhiskey into the Ball. The action reminds her of something Fred would do and she shakes her head, trying to get the boy out of her mind, tonight of all nights.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.” Adrian states as he takes a swig of the flask, and she feels her cheeks heat up. She can hear the sincerity in his voice. “You don’t scrub up so badly either, Pucey.” 

“A dance, m’lady?” He jokingly bows to Y/N and she smiles while she takes his hand and he leads her to the dance floor. As Adrian twirls Y/N around the dance floor, albeit messily because neither of them paid attention in dance classes held by Snape of all people, she forgets about the redhead who’s stare is burning holes into the back of her head.

“You’re a shit date, y’know.” Angelina laughs and Fred’s broken out of his trance. “Shit, Angie, I’m so sorry.” 

Angelina isn’t wrong. She’s a smart girl, and she’s well aware of Fred’s longing stares towards the Slytherin girl. “Did you know? That you wanted to go with her?” Angelina questions, out of sheer curiosity. Even she was shocked when Fred asked her, but she was too dumbfounded when he asked and with everyone watching at dinner, the pressure to say yes was immense but it was not worth all the pain and heartache she’s watched her two friends go through. 

“At the time? No, definitely not. She’s…” He trails off as he tries to find the right words, “She’s always been there, y’know? I just assumed she’d be in my life forever and what we had was what we’d always be… It felt normal, like I didn’t feel the way I feel about her with you, or Katie or Alicia but it felt like that’s how you’re meant to feel about your girl best friend?” 

He looks over at them again, and the gross feeling of jealousy rises in his throat. “But then she said yes to Pucey, and all I can think about is how no one should be holding her but me and that he'll walk her all the way back to her dorm tonight and probably kiss her and I feel like throwing up, and...” He pauses and looks at Angelina and the pity in her eyes is obvious. “And you don’t think about your best friend like this.” 

Angelina watches in pity as Fred clearly drowns his sorrows in pumpkin juice and she drags him onto the dance floor. She’s not letting Fred have a bad night and she refuses to have one as well. Fred is one of her best friends, and even though she might not be the girl he wishes he was here with, she’s determined to cheer him up somehow. 

Fred finally starts to have a good time when he spots George slyly leading Alicia out of the Great Hall and he loudly wolf whistles causing a red hue to form on both their cheeks and George to flip Fred the bird as they leave. Angelina spots Y/N grab her purse across the room while Fred’s distracted and she quietly leaves just after George and Alicia.

Alone.

“Y/N just left, Fred. Alone.” Fred’s confused why Angelina is telling him this when he looks over at Daphne and Adrian, who both look at him like ‘Go you fucking idiot’ and before he can even mutter a goodbye to his friends, he’s out the door almost as fast as George was.

-

He finds Y/N sitting on a bench in the courtyard. She’s looking up at the stars and Fred stars to recall last summer when she visited The Burrow. She spent all night trying to point out constellations to Fred and as he watches her mutter to herself, Fred wonders how he didn’t realise that they were in love this entire time.

He clears his throat, careful not to startle Y/N and when she turns Fred can see the hesitation in her face as she quickly goes to jump up and leave. 

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have stolen the prime make-out spot of the night.” She awkwardly laughs but then quickly realises Fred is alone. “Nevermind… Where’s Angelina?” 

Fred shrugs, and sits down on the bench she was sitting on originally. Y/N stands awkwardly before sitting down next to him. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s missed being close to him. The warmth that radiates off him despite it being the middle of winter causes her to shuffle just that slightly bit closer to him and Fred can’t help but smile. 

“You look beautiful tonight. I know Adrian probably told you already, at least I hope he did, but you deserve to know.” Fred could feel himself rambling and he doesn’t miss the blush that rises across Y/N’s neck and cheeks. It’s the exact same blush that appears whenever he buys her chocolates and his heart soars. 

“Thanks Freddie,” the nickname feels foreign on her tongue, “you look pretty handsome yourself. I hope Angelina told you.” She retaliates and Fred hates it. He hates the awkwardness between them. He wants nothing more to wrap his arms around her and hold her close but they feel like strangers. 

“Thanks,” he laughs and Y/N looks at him confused. “Did you have a good night?”

“Can we not have this awkward small talk? I’m sure Angelina’s waiting for you somewhere.” Fred’s taken aback by her abruptness and stares at her for a few seconds. “What?” She asks when she notices Fred looking at her like she has nine heads.

“Angelina’s not waiting for me. Is Adrian waiting for you?” He asks but he doesn’t want to know the answer. He’s gone through a rollercoaster of emotions these past few weeks and he truly doesn’t want to know if another man is waiting for her to sweep her off her feet and walk back to the Slytherin common room. But when she shakes her head, Fred lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. 

“I need to apologise.” He blurts out and Fred wants to smack himself in the head. This was not the romantic moment he had envisioned in his head as he followed her outside into the courtyard. “I need to apologise for a lot of things. Mostly, for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am, and also for not asking you to the ball and for ruining our friend-” 

“You didn’t ruin our friendship.” She cuts him off but she doesn’t know what else to say. “You didn’t. I did, if anything.” Fred has to stop himself from starting an argument on who ruined the friendship but he wants to backtrack. Did Y/N just ignore him confessing his love to her? 

“Well, I’m still sorry for not realising how ridiculously in love with you I am?” He tries again sheepishly and Y/N gives him a double-take. She heard him the first time but she was convinced it was just her ears playing tricks on her or Fred being a menace. After all, this is Fred Weasley in front of her, he’s always looking for a joke and as she’s about to accuse him of pulling a sick, twisted prank on her, she looks at him properly.

And he’s looking as serious as he did the day he told her he plans to open a joke shop with George after they graduate. 

“You’re in love with me?” She asks quietly and her heart is racing again. She thinks back to the day she accidentally confessed to Fred and how she’s spent the last few weeks trying to fall out of love with him just for him to admit he’s fallen in love with her. “Fred, if this is some sick and twisted joke I will never forgive you.” 

Fred almost looks hurt at this, that she thinks he’s capable of something that cruel. So instead of speaking, he softly cups her face in both his hands and runs his thumbs across her cheekbones in a loving manner. He looks her directly in the eyes and Y/N doesn’t think she’s breathed in the last 30 seconds.

She’s been craving being this close to Fred for as long as she can remember. Their lingering touches were never this intimate and right now, she feels like she can look into Fred’s eyes and see into his core, his soul. And he can do the same to her.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, and Y/N gasps before nodding, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips against hers. 

As he leans in his eyes flutter close, as do her’s. Y/N hasn’t kissed a lot of people in her life, but nothing could ever compare to the way she feels right now. The love and adoration Fred is pouring into this kiss almost brings tears to her eyes and she can only hope he can feel the love and adoration she has for him back.

Their lips move in perfect synchrony, neither of them pushing each other too far, but when Y/N drags her fingers through Fred’s hair and he lets out a groan, she can’t help but pull away and giggle. 

“I’ve missed hearing you laugh.” Fred’s arms are now wrapped around her middle and he’s leaning down to press his forehead against hers. Now he has her in his arms, he’s never letting her go. 

“I’ve missed having you make me laugh, Freddie.” She says sincerely and it’s Fred’s turn to blush. He knows they need to eventually leave their little bubble of happiness they finally have but he doesn’t want too. But he knows they need to talk about what happened, about them, what they are and Fred so desperately hopes this means Y/N is his. 

She senses Fred’s thinking and she looks up at him, doe-eyed and innocent and Fred’s heart melts. 

“Stop overthinking.” She mutters, running her hand through his long hair again and Fred almost looks like a cat purring as he feels her fingernails rake across his scalp and he leans into her touch. “Can’t help it. Don’t want to lose you again.” 

Her heart pounds, this is all she’s ever wanted to hear and now she wants to hear it every single day. So she tells him exactly that.

“I’m yours, Freddie. As long as you’re mine? If you don’t know what you want it’s okay, I promise we can take it slow-” Fred cuts her off, laughing as he kisses her again and he feels how warm Y/N’s cheeks are, as she blushes over Fred silencing her with a kiss. When he pulls back, her face is flush, her hair is falling out of her bun. It reminds Fred of that day in the library, except this time, the happiness in her face is unmistakably there, and finally he’s the cause of it. 

“Of course, I’m yours, darling. I’m never letting you go.” 

- 

Late the next morning, when Y/N is trying her best to sneak out of the Gryffindor sixth year boys dormitory with a dark purple hickey adorning her neck, she spots three 4th years whose names she doesn’t even know, giving Ron Weasley five galleons. 

Ron sees her, and smirks. “My bet was at the ball. Thanks, Y/N, you and Freddie boy have made me a very rich man.”

 ---------------------------------------------------

[bitch-im-your-biggest-nightmare]

Getting panic attacks at grocery stores sound pretty bad until someone with an unusually deep voice comes around (Corpse x Reader)

Warnings: fluff, angst, anxiety, panic attack Summary: Y/N is groceries shopping and gets a panic attack, because its too crowded and the Y/N tries to call their friends but nobody is picking up and Corpse notices and decides to help them. Request: Yes  A/N: Sorry for how slow my requests are going! Ugh I need some more confidence man. I’m always active on Tumblr, but I never find myself to posting/finishing the requests I get. Sorry if I don’t get yours done! I’d rather do the ones I really enjoy so I actually have a good time writing. Sorry if I sound like an asshat.  Tags: @save-the-sky @alilshit @whatifwedo@hughugh20@fleurmoon @bi-andready-tocry @itsminniekat@yoongi-holland@loraleiix @hacker-ghost @fanworrior@marvelous-musicals @annshit @unknown-and-invisible@letsloveimagines @babyhoneystvles 

-------------------------- -------------------------- -------------------------- --------------------------

Y/N hates grocery shopping. Too many people and limited time. She hated it there, actually she hated it anywhere. She hated social interaction in general. She’d rather curl up in bed and hang out with her cat, not go out and do random shit. But in this case, it wasn’t random. Y/N was seriously running low on food and knew she couldn’t be relying on Doordash and Uber Eats for everything. As much as she despised it, she needed to. So, she got her ass out of her apartment and went to her local Save A Lot to get the goods.

The place was crowded and her anxiety was getting the best of her. As she pushed her cart around and filled it with junk food, all she could feel are stares. She felt like everybody was judging her, like they all looked at her cart and thought she was a fatass. It’s not her fault she enjoys food with a lot of sugar, I mean.. don’t we all? It’s not like shes going to die.

Y/N walked around the store, gathering different types of foods and drinks. She didn’t get much, she has a limited amount of money and its not a lot. She was already exhausted, she just wanted to go home. As she put a bag of flaming hot cheetos in her bag, she looked around at her surroundings. She felt the world was just staring at her. She felt the world closing in on her and her chest tightened up, she felt doom coming. She knew straight away what this was, a panic attack. 

She took her phone out to call one of her friends, hoping they weren’t busy. But wen she called, it went straight to voicemail. Y/N sighed, the panic attack was just getting worse. While in this crisis of calling her friends for help, people looked at her like she was crazy. She was frowning and looked generally sad. Her friends were not picking up and she felt a little betrayed. She felt like she was going to die. 

‘Not like this, fuck.’

But then Corpse notices. 

Corpse himself hated leaving his apartment. He’d rather stay in the comfort of his own home where no one could judge him. He liked the indoors, where it was warm and safe from anxiety and pain. But he knew it was healthy to get outside, so he dragged himself out. He wanted to walk around so he just walking into different stores to just look around and not get anything- if that makes any sense. When he saw a girl struggling, he knew what it was. He’s had many panic attacks before and knew how to handle them.

“Hey, are you ok?” He asked Y/N when he got up to her. She looked at him and shook her head no, letting out a stutter. Corpse paused for a second before speaking, “Ok just match my breathing, alright? It’s ok.” 

Y/N listened, desperately trying to match Corpses breathing. She felt like the deep voice made it worse, but maybe it was just the surprise of the strangers presence. She listened to Corpse as he calmed her down, and soon her heart stopped beating so fast and the walls stopped closing in. She looked up at the man and said “Thanks dude.. my friends wouldn’t answer..” 

“Then maybe they weren’t friends.” Corpse joked, but apologized at Y/Ns offended look. “I’ve had attacks like that, just remember to breathe.”

Y/N nodded her head, “Yeah.. yeah. I’ve never gotten one in public before. Thanks for helping.” 

“No problem.” He paused again, looking around the store. “Well I should get going. It was nice meeting you.” then he walked away. 

Y/N watched him go, feeling a little warm inside. She felt like she needed to do something about that feeling, so she ran to him. When she got to him, she put a hand on his shoulder, making him turn around and look at her. She looked at the ground a little awkwardly before speaking. 

“Uhm.. can I get your number?” 

Corpse was a little caught off guard, but smiled. 

“Sure.”

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

Day 21: You, again- Max Phillips

Day 21: You, again - Max Phillips 

Pairing: Max Phillips x Reader 

Warning: Cursing 18 + 

A/N: This story was requested by @phoenixhalliwell​ who is one of my favorite people I talk to on Tumblr. She writes some fantastic Triple Frontier stuff so check it out! Also, this is my first time writing for Max Phillips so I hope you enjoy! 

November Writing Challenge Masterlist 

Day 20: Hello - Poe Dameron 

Monday 

“Ugh!” you shout kicking towards the copier. 

“You know if you break it you gotta buy it, sweetheart,” you jump half a foot in the air before turning around gasping at the smirking face of Max Phillips, your boss. 

“FUCK! You scared the shit out of me! I didn’t even hear you come up behind me!” 

“Oh, no are you ok pumpkin?” Oh how much you hated the pet names. 

You roll your eyes before turning back to the infuriating machine, “I’m fine,” you grind your teeth doing your best to ignore him. It was only too much of a wish for him to leave you alone. 

He leans against the copier and smirks at you, “So I was wondering about dinne-” 

“Listen here Mr. Phillips, I am not interested in anything you are offering. So if you could kindly fuck off that would be great, thank you.” 

He pouts, before crossing his arms over his chest, “you know I could fire you for talking to me like th-” 

You cut him off again grabbing your finished copies and facing him, “But you won’t because then you would lose your best salesman and the company would plummet.” You walk away tightly holding your papers to your chest and returning to your desk. Leaving a gaping Max Phillips behind. 

Tuesday

You bob your head along to the music playing from the small speaker at your desk. Fully concentrating on finishing the proposal for Friday when you feel the presence of someone standing behind you. 

You slowly turn in your chair and see Max Phillips creeping over your shoulder at your computer. 

“AHH!” you scream, “You fucking asshole why do you insist on sneaking up on me!” 

He raises his hands in mock surrender, before lowering them. His signature smirk gracing his lips, “I’m not sneaking up on you sweet-cheeks, can I help it if you’re not observant of your surroundings?” 

You scoff rolling away from him. He leans down closer and you can feel his breath against your neck. “I brought you something,” he says quietly. Placing a small white box on your desk. 

You stop typing momentarily before you hesitantly reach for the box. Fully expecting something to jump out at you. You place the lid of the box aside and look puzzled at a new pair of purple earbuds. Yours had broken last week when stupid Evan wasn’t looking where he was going and crushed yours. 

“Purple’s my favorite color...how did yo-” You look around but he’s gone. No trace of Max at all. You tentatively plug them into the small speaker still half expecting them to blow up and when they don’t you place them in your ears. These were a lot nicer than your last ones. Interesting.

Wednesday 

Lunchtime. The one time a day you can escape the freezing office and get some peace. You had made it a habit over the past few months since Max’s arrival to eat in your car with the heat on so you can finally escape the chill. 

You look in the fridge for your lunchbox but it’s gone. You take out every single bag from the fridge before replacing them. Some fucker took your lunch! You stalk like a cheetah throughout the cubicles before you land upon Tim. Who is greedily eating up your Philly cheesesteak leftovers from the night before as he watches cartoons on youtube. 

“Are you fucking serious?!” you shout startling him, “You took my lunch! Why don’t you just eat your own!?” 

“Oh shit, hmm I can explain...oh fuck… I was just so hungry and it was just there. Your not mad right?” he stutters. 

You can feel your blood pressure rise and reach around him to grab your lunchbox, smacking him upside the head with it before storming out. When you reach your car you note the time and scream knowing you don’t have enough time to go get something. Your head hits the steering wheel and you scream again. 

Suddenly a knock sounds from your passenger window and you jump. Looking up into the slightly concerned eyes of your boss. You put a hand to your chest before putting down the window on the right, “I swear to god I think you are trying to murder me by scaring me to death!” 

“Unlock the door,” he tells you and at this point, you can’t think of a good reason not to. 

You click the button and the door unlocks. Max gets in with a loud rustling sound, closing the door behind him. “For the record cupcake, if I wanted to murder you, you would know. No, I saw you in the fridge hunting for food and decided to be a nice boss for once and bring you lunch, you like empanadas right?” 

You look at him like he’s grown an extra head before nodding, “Yes…? They’re my favorite food...how did yo-”

He hands you the container and tucks into the other one himself. Neither of you saying anything. When the clock strikes 11:25 you clean up the small mess you made and lock eyes with Max. His food sits half-eaten in the box and he’s just staring at you. 

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers but it’s so low your not sure you heard him right.

“What?” you ask.

“I said you’re a mess, here,” he hands you a napkin and you wipe your face. 

“Thank you...for everything,” you tell him smiling softly. 

“Can’t have my best employee starve to death can I?” he takes the containers from your hands before getting out of the car. Leaving you alone with your thoughts. Curious. 

Thursday 

Thirsty Thursday with your old college buddies tonight you decide to dress up for work. Wearing a deep blood red halter dress that stops just above your knees, a black cardigan, and black kitten heels. You can’t help but admire your reflection in the metal walls of the elevator. 

All-day you’d received compliments and it felt damn good but someone was surprisingly absent. The only trace of him you had seen all day was a still-warm guava and cheese empanada on your desk with a note. 

You look ravishing, kitten.

You blush before tucking the note safely into your clutch. When the day finally ends you confidently stalk past his office and you’re disappointed to see it dark. Its occupant already long gone for the day. You shrug, oh well. At least today you didn’t get the shit scared out of you again. 

At the club, your friends are well on their way to being drunk and you take two shots to try to catch up. “LET’S DANCE!” they cheer pulling you toward the lights of the dance-floor. 

You bump, grind, and groove to the music and the liquor flows freely until you find yourself more relaxed than you had been all week. “SHOTS!” your friend shouts heading back over to the table but you’re lost in the rhythm of the music and shout back that you’re staying. 

It only takes a moment before hands snake around your waist and pulls you flush with someone’s back. You gasp when you feel the freezing cold hands pull you tight, and someone’s breath in your ear. “Hi baby,” he whispers in your ear and you melt. Turning around in his arms. 

“You, again. What have I told you about scaring me?” you scoff but don’t move away, taking a step closer. 

He moves his hands up and pushes your hair behind your ears, his hands running down your neck and holding you. His thumbs lazily caressing your cheeks, “it’s not my fault your unobservant of your surroundings doll. But, also I like to keep you on your toes. Always waiting for me to show up. I know you missed me today. I saw you saunter that sweet body past my office before you left...you wanted me to see you.” 

Your cheeks heat and you let out a small puff of air...ah fuck it. 

Closing the distance between you and kissing him softly. You bring your hands up and mess up his perfect hair before he opens to you. He tastes like peppermint and a slight coppery tang and you feel consumed by him. Despite how cold he is you are burning alive. All your senses heightened and you lose yourself in him. The crowded club is gone until it’s only you and him. 

When you finally break to breathe he pulls you close and traces his hands slowly over your curves. “I’ve been wanting to do that for months,” he whispers in your ear, “but every time I got close enough...you would scream and curse at me. Kind of ruined the mood…” 

You laugh and hug him tightly before kissing him again, “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Oh fuck yes,” he pulls you towards the door, out of the club, and towards a new tomorrow. 

Day 22: Distorted Sounds 

Taglist: @josepedropascal​ 

If you want to be added to my tag list let me know! 

[alexwritesfiction]

I posted 6,163 times in 2021

1382 posts created (22%)

4781 posts reblogged (78%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 3.5 posts.

I added 1,032 tags in 2021

#answers - 409 posts

#melting - 101 posts

#mila - 90 posts

#jana - 79 posts

#writeblr - 73 posts

#hey micah - 69 posts

#carmen - 62 posts

#xavier - 54 posts

#rwrb - 51 posts

#writers on tumblr - 44 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#is this too poetic... idk... i just... will always fall for best friends finally realizing that all those times and thoughts meant something

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

i cant.

779 notes • Posted 2021-03-08 10:30:27 GMT

#4

enemies to lovers prompts because i’m self indulgent

i love them? Them? SERIOUSLY, HEART?

i wonder why they make me feel self conscious and careless at the same time and how my heart flutters when i’m around them but also i think i’m starting to not hate them what- oh. Oh.

oh my holy shit have you always been so beautiful or did you have to try on a new face mask huh? i mean, i mean you look so ugly ugh i hate you

oh you think you’re gonna win this argument? well guess who’s gonna tell you they love you and leave you speechless, darling

i must protect my secret at all costs or else they’ll find out and i’ll never live it down no no nope

oh we have to share a bed and you’re gonna kick me out of it? let me just cuddle you in the middle of the night so you blame yours- yeah no it’s because i want to

gOd they’re so infuriating i want to kill them but i would also kill myself on something happened to them—

oh oh you pinned me and now we’re hugging and you’re not letting go and i hate you so much and then why am i liking it- THAT PINCH HURT YOU NINCOMPOOP

so you’re gonna entice me at the ballroom with a dance? well let me just -accidentally- step on your shoe so we can fall together and i can kis- i mean kill you

i want to hate but i love you so for the love of god i swear this is the only time i’m letting you get away with it *proceed to let them get away with it more than only this time*

accidentally kissing each other and liking it and then having a fight because Of Course You Kissed Me And I Liked It But I Cant Tell You I Liked It

holy shit they went through something horrible so of course it’s natural for their mortal enemy like me to comfort them because MORALS and realising how protective you are of them

playfully flirting and hating each other and someone else flirting with them and you getting jealous and realising how possessive you are of them

*if you use these, please send me what you wrote! i’d love to read XD

reblog if you liked these, follow for similar content!

798 notes • Posted 2021-05-15 19:02:18 GMT

#3

friendly writeblr reminder!

it’s good to use cliches! it’s not unoriginal or fake or plagiarised! the trope has been used but has it been done how you’re doing it?

no one ever said “i love this, i hope this is the only one!” they said “i love this! i hope there’s more like this!”

972 notes • Posted 2021-05-06 05:19:50 GMT

#2

gestures that show grief

still not being used to them being dead and using “is” instead of “was” and realising they’re dead and then breaking down again

calling their phone to pretend they’re still alive by listening to their voicemail

being depressed and brooding all the time

isolating themselves and refusing to open up or rest or eat

being in denial about their death to a high degree and pretending they’re still alive ex. still counting them at the dinner table, waiting for them to come back home etc

feeling guilt, thinking they could’ve saved them somehow, that it’s their fault that they’re gone even when it’s not

resentment and hurt towards the person who passed for leaving them ex. refusing to acknowledge they loved them or feeling string hurt because they promised they wouldn’t leave

physical changes like weight loss, sleep loss, withdrawals

being angry at everyone and staying mad at innocent people almost like they’re not themselves

worrying too much about other people thinking they’re gonna leave too

*some of these contradict each other and should be used accordingly

*should align with the personality of the character but grief makes you do things you wouldn’t normally do so mix it up a bit.

1045 notes • Posted 2021-05-14 19:45:48 GMT

#1

writers @ their characters: i love you but i don’t love you enough to not give you trauma

1329 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 12:12:47 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[poc-movie-supremacy]

I’m coming home to you

Christopher wanted to see his Buck today and who was Eddie to refuse? They picked up Buck for a nice day at the pier. When things go from great to catastrophic, will Eddie reunite with Buck and Christopher. Based off this tumblr post by @sexyapplemilk

This story is for @sexyapplemilk/ @fandom-101 @its-like-looking-in-3d

Thank you to @not-falling-but-flying for reading over this long long fic!

I hope you guys like it!

----

Eddie and Buck had the same day off. Well Eddie had the day off and Buck didn’t have work but potato potatoe. It was Saturday so Chris didn’t have school today either. 

Eddie was sitting across from Chris at the breakfast table munching their way through breakfast. It had been a quiet morning so far, Chris was lost in his own thoughts. Eddie wondered if his kid was planning anything, but decided not to put much thought into it. 

“Daddy can we see Bucky today?” The question made Eddie cock his eyebrow. He knew that Buck had been wallowing in his bed for the past few days after he got the news he couldn’t go back to work just yet. Part of him didn’t want to disturb the younger man, but the other part of him figured this could be good for Buck. Also he can’t say no to his kid. 

“Let me ask him if he’s free.” Eddie will probably come over anyways, Buck can’t get mad at him, he had Chris. “Finish your breakfast first though mijo.” Chris shouts in joy and resumes eating his breakfast, bagel with fruits cause eddie can’t mess that up, with renewed rigour. Eddie smiles fondly at his kid while he takes a bit of fruit. 

Eddie made Chris finish getting ready for the day. They had to do Chris’s PT, get changed, fix their hair. Eddie combed his hair back, put on a nice white shirt and a plaid button up, jeans, and some sneakers. Chris put on a yellow stripped shirt and blue pants. He waited impatiently for his dad by the door. Eddie chuckled, unlocked the door then walked with his kid to the car. “What do you want to do for today Chris?”

“We can color or Bucky says he got a new video game!”

“You don’t want to go outside?” 

Chris looks at his dad curiously. Eddie helps him into the car then doubling back to get into the drivers seat. He starts the car and starts to drive. “What could we do outside?” 

“You could go to the park, play on the play structure?”

Chris wrinkles his nose. “Bucky can’t fit on it though, I know, we’ve tried.” Eddie laughs out loud at that. The idea of Buck trying to fit into a play structure is way too amusing. 

“Well okay then, no park, we could… go to the laser tag?”

“I promised I’d go with Denny next week though.”

“Hmmm yea we gotta keep our promises don’t we?”

“That’s what you always say.”

“Well maybe Buck will have better ideas huh?”

“Bucky has the best ideas!” 

---

They get up to Buck’s apartment and Eddie doesn’t knock, instead he just lets himself in. The apartment is eerily quiet and Eddie wonders if Buck wasn’t home. “Buck, Hey Buck me and Chris are here to hang out.” He looks around the apartment for any signs of his best friend. 

“Daddy look.” Chris points up to the loft to the mass on the bed.

Eddie smiles proudly at his kid. “Good job mijo. Go sit in the living room while I go rouse Buck.”

“Can I watch tv?”

“Sure kid.”

Eddie sets Chris up in the living room before heading up to Buck. The bedroom is a bit messy, loose clothes strung everywhere. The blinds are closed and all the lights are off. Any evidence Buck is here is the gigantic mass on the bed. Eddie frowns in worry, before getting to work. He opens up all the blinds and repeatedly pulled the covers off of Buck to force him to get up.

“Dude I have nothing to do today.”

“Nope, you're taking me and Chris, more importantly Chris, somewhere today. Heads up, he’s vetoed the park and laser tag and he’s downstairs. Get changed and start thinking of places to go. I’ll make you something to eat.”

Buck looks at him incredulously. “Eddie, you can’t cook.”

“Yea it’ll probably be toast or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, but food is food and you need to eat.”

Eddie watches Buck calmly. Anger, confusion, acceptance and happiness flit across his face. He gives Eddie a smile before turning around. “Okay Eddie. Anything for my favorite Diaz.”

Eddie knows he means Chris, he still leaves the loft with a small smile.

---

The Diaz’s make Buck a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with some strawberries Eddie found in Buck’s fridge. Buck’s in a white shirt and a plain pink button up. His hair is slightly gelled up and any trace of sadness was gone from his eyes. Happily he let Chris pull him to the kitchen table. “Wow this all looks so good buddy, did you make it?”

Chris beamed. “No Dad helped a bit.”

“You coulda convinced me otherwise.” 

Chris giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes, “I cut up the strawberries.” Buck made a small noise of understanding before starting to eat. Chris quietly colored beside him. Occasionally he stole Buck’s strawberries. If Buck cared he didn’t comment on it.

“So have you picked where we’re going Buck?” Eddie asked.

“Yes actually, May’s been talking about visiting the Pier with her friends and I figured  if it was good enough for her, it’s good enough for us right? You wanna go to the pier buddy?”

“What’s on the pier?”

Buck’s face lit up in a blinding smile. Quickly he starts listing off all the unhealthy snacks sold at the pier. Eddie shakes his head and mock glares at Buck, but he only gets a cheeky grin in response. 

“You’re going to give him such a sugar high. Ugh, if you want to do this you have to put him to bed tonight.”

“You’re going to stay with us for the whole day?!” Chris smile could put the sun to shame. He looked eagerly between his father and his Buck.

“Sure Buddy if that’s what you want.” Chris nodded his head so fast he looked like a bobble head. 

Buck chuckled, “Okay buddy, I’ll hop you up on sugar then have the pleasure of tucking you in.” Buck sent Eddie a teasing smile, only to receive an eye roll in response. 

Once Buck finishes his food, the boys head for Buck’s jeep. They could’ve ridden in Eddie’s truck, but Buck likes driving more than Eddie. Chris’s car seat is transferred to the back of Buck’s jeep and they all pile in. Some top 40s song blares from the radio as they head to their destination. 

The wind feels nice in Eddie’s hair. He stares out the window as he listens to Chris and Buck have an animated conversation. Eddie doesn’t really pay attention to it, but it still sounds nice, his son and best friend being happy.  

“Will you ride with us Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“The bumper cars? Do you want to ride on the bumper cars with us?”

“Oh why not. You sure though, I’ll kick your butt.”

Buck squacks offendedly. “As if, I’m a pro at bumper cars Diaz. In fact I should be asking if you’re okay going against me.” Buck flashes him a cocky smile and Eddie gives him a deadpan stare. He’s impossible yet so endearing. Eddie can’t bring himself to hate it, any of it for a second. 

----

Going to the pier, Eddie will admit, was a very good choice. The smell of fried food and the noise of the amusement park rides was relaxing. It felt like being back at the state fairs in Texas. Buck and Chris dragged him along to every ride and Eddie went willingly. He doesn’t remember the last time he had so much fun. 

Eventually they tired down. Eddie was sitting on a bench next to Buck with a frankly gigantic brown bear on his lap. Chris is watching the surfers surf the waves down below with Buck holding onto his shirt. Eddie let himself relax after spending a whole day running after a child and a golden retriever. When Chris comforted Buck, Eddie snuck a photo of the moment. Buck was smiling sadly up at Chris while Chris held Buck’s chin in his hand. It was so sweet Eddie could’ve gotten a toothache.

He went about saving the photo when Chris started talking again. “Where did all the water go?”

---

So there was a Tsunami in California, and Eddie was in the middle of it. He really can’t have nice things. Immediately Buck grabbed Chris and together they started running off the pier. Man can’t outrun nature though and they were barely halfway across the pier when they got swept away.

---

Buck tightened his hold on Chris as he felt the water slap them around. As much as he wanted to keep Chris with him, he wasn’t stronger than the water. Eventually Buck felt Chris get torn away from him. Debris the tsunami picked up hurtled toward him. He could feel little nicks appear on his arms and legs. 

When he finally broke through the surface, he spotted Chris clinging to a pole twenty feet in front of him. Carefully he angled his body so the water would take him to Chris. When he got close enough he leaped and wrapped his arms around Chris. With the same intensity, Chris clung to Buck tightly. It was nice to have proof that Chris was safe. After hearing the little guy cry out for him and Eddie, he wasn’t letting Chris go anytime soon. 

For a while the duo was at the mercy of the water, but when Buck spotted a half submerged fire truck, he used his reserved energy to swim towards it. Once there, he lifted Chris onto it and then lifted himself onto it. The whole act hurt his leg, but Buck didn’t voice his pain. Quietly he breathed a sigh of relief. The open air stung his fresh cuts and his soaked clothes clung to him uncomfortably. Chris climbed into his lap and rested his head on Buck’s chest.

“Bucky, where’s my dad?”

Buck sighed, not wanted or knowing how to answer this question. “It appears that we got separated when the wave hit, but that can’t be permanent right buddy? When the water recedes we’ll go search for him okay?” Silently Chris nodded. Buck carded his hand through his curls and let his head gently hit against the truck. He breathed deeply once before getting into action.

“Hey superman, can I give you a quick check-up? I wanna make sure you aren’t too injured.” Chris nodded and Buck went about a modified version of the paramedic check up. (He’s been around Hen and Chimney to know it by heart. He also is a certified EMT.)

“You’re all healthy, kid, just a few cuts but that’s okay. Pretty amazing, I need to know your secrets.” Buck poked Chris’s cheek to make him giggle. He succeeded.

“I had you. You saved me.”

---

Somewhere along the way Eddie got separated. In the water he tried to reach for Chris or Buck, but his hand kept getting smacked by debriefs. He did it enough times that he was sure his wrist was sprained. 

When he finally broke free from the waves he couldn’t tell where he was. There were string lights hanging above him and a row of nondescript red buildings. Eddie let himself be dragged along with the waves while he thought of something to do. Buck and Chris weren’t beside him, making him officially alone. He hoped they were still together, the thought of all three of them trying to survive this on their own was enough to puke. 

He clutched onto his St. Christopher’s medal as he searched for someplace to grab onto.  There were inflatable toys, scraps of metal, and spare tires; but nothing safe to actually hold onto. Eddie tries to groan in frustration, but he ends up swallowing a mouthful of water instead. 

After another half-hour he finally sees an awning of a restaurant. He makes his way over and lies down on the awning. He breathes in deeply and lets out a slow breath. He’s safe. He’s safe and alive and all alone. Dread tries to settle in his stomach at the thought of his son. He knows he can’t think like this, but god it’s so easy too. He can only hope that Buck is with Chris, Buck will keep Chris safe. 

--- 

When the water finally recedes, Buck climbs down the truck. The nice lady, Mrs. Violet, hands Buck Chris before climbing down herself. “Stay safe you two. Good bye.” Chris waves goodbye and Buck gives her a megawatt smile. She’s nice company while they were stuck on the truck. Buck hopes they find their husband. He waits to make sure everyone else gets down safely too. 

The winds from earlier have died down. The warmth from the midday sun beaming down on him feels nice. His clothes have dried into uncomfortable messes, but it’s fine. He gave his pink button to use a tourniquet for a man with a bloody arm. 

Chris tightens his hold on Buck, shifts around to get comfortable, then goes lax in his arms. “You don’t want to be let down buddy?” Chris shakes his head. Buck hmmed in acquiescence . 

As an eight year old, Chris is hesitant to let people hold him. He says he’s too old for it now. The first time it happened Eddie called Buck to drink with him. Buck agreed and listened as Eddie complained at how big his kid was getting. The fact that Chris was willing to be held right now meant that he was more scared than he appeared. It made Buck worry and want Eddie. He shouldn’t be here, Eddie needs to be here to console his kid. 

Buck hiked up Chris further up his hip then started walking. He didn’t know which way he should go, just hoped wherever he went would lead him to Eddie. 

---

Eddie fell asleep. He fell asleep on top of the awning waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t a great sleep, he kept seeing Christopher get torn away from him. Eddie shocked himself awake and took stock of his surroundings. The water was gone, leaving in its wake the debris it swept away. Also dead bodies. If Eddie had anything to puke up he’d be hurling. 

Okay, okay, you can’t stay here. You gotta go find your kid. How… Eddie thought. Call someone? Call Buck! Or Bobby or Carla! Hope invigorated him to pull his phone out despite the fact that his wrist was definitely broken. Hope left him when he saw his completely waterlogged phone. Okay Plan A was bust on to Plan B… whatever that was. 

The awning was connected to a pole that he could climb down. Best way to find his kid and his best friend was to look for them. Slowly he made his way to an edge of an awning. Then he edged himself off the edge slowly and feet first. Eddie wrapped his feet around the pole and shimmied down. 

There were a few stranglers around him, similarly confused and lost. He tried asking them if they’d seen his lost kid or best friend. Unhelpfully they shook their heads no. Eddie sighed and continued walking. 

----

Buck’s arms were on fire. His leg was also on fire. He’s pretty sure he was also bleeding something… not good. Holding Chris and walking around for hours in the hot sun hadn’t been kind to him. Buck was still searching for Eddie or a hospital. Finding Eddie was better than finding a hospital, but at this point he’d take either.   

Technically he had found two hospitals already, but they were filled to the brink. The wait was astronomical and there was no place to sit. And there was no Eddie. He let a nurse check Chris out and give them some supplies, water and granola bars, before heading out. In hindsight he should’ve also asked for a phone to call someone but he forgot. 

Chris had long since passed out in his arms. The kid's soft breaths on his necks was very reassuring. It was part of the reason Buck didn’t want to let him down. Another reason was because he wanted to physically pass Chris off to Eddie. Who is fine. He’s healthy and fit and able to carry his kid when Buck finds him. ‘Cause he will find him, Buck can’t not find him.

Chris shifting in his arm brought Buck back to the present. “Bucky? Bucky, I'm tired.”

“I know superman, you’re okay. I heard there's a new hospital a few blocks from here. They’ll be able to help us.”

“Okay Bucky. Can I have ice cream when we get there?”

“We deserve it don’t we? Still need to ask your dad though buddy.”

“Why? He’s not the boss of you?”

“This is a trick.”

--- 

After searching for Buck and Chris for five hours (and getting nowhere his evil mind adds) he’s starting to lose hope he can find them on his own. No one has seen a tall man in a pink button up nor a little boy in a yellow striped shirt. Eddie’s poor heart doesn’t know whether or not to implode at that. By now the sun has started setting. The winds aren’t as refreshing as they once were. 

As he made his way down another debris filled street, two first responders found him. Eddie resists their attempts at checking him over for any injuries at first. He needs to find his partner and his kid, but he’s also tired. The first responders seem to pick up on this. They promise him that they’ll help him find his kid and partner if he just cooperates. This is how they cajoole him into going to a hospital. With promises of phone calls to his kid and a message passed around to the other first responders that Firefighter Eddie Diaz of the 118 is looking for his partner Evan Buckley and his son Chris Diaz. 

This satisfies Eddie a great deal and he then becomes a much better patient. (He’s still grumpy and aloof, but now he’s tolerant). He’s almost fine, acquired a cut on his right arm, broke his left wrist, is dehydrated and exhausted. One of the first responders tosses him a bottle of water on the way to their destination. Eddie finds out when they arrive that it’s a VA hospital set up specifically as a halfway point for the sick and wounded. 

The first responders usher him in through the door and into the hands of a nurse. They describe his injuries, and tell her about his missing family. He’d correct them but the statement doesn’t feel wrong anyways. The nurse takes him to a free cot before giving him a check up too. 

The first responders hit the nail on the head with his list of injuries. Since it’s not severe he doesn’t need to be transported to the hospital right away, although it is recommended. She leaves to go get him pain meds and once again, Eddie is alone. The people in the cots beside him don’t count. Hell one’s unconscious and the other one is having an intimate looking conversion with a loved one. There are tears, Eddie looks away.

To keep himself busy Eddie makes a to do list of what he needs to do next. Find Christopher. Give him a big hug. Give Buck a big hug. Sleep. Tell people he’s okay. Buy a new phone. Buy ice cream. The last one isn’t technically an emergency but forgive him he’s in pain. 

The nurse comes back with a wrap for his wrist and disinfectant and band aids. He finishes his water while she works. The nurse tells him he’s lucky his wound isn’t infected. Eddie nods, mind focused on something else.

“This is awkward, but my phone got damaged in the tsunami and I need to tell some people I’m okay. Is it alright if I borrow your phone and make some calls?” 

The nurse smiles and nodds. She gets out her iphone, unlocks it and gets out the phone app. Eddie takes it gingerly and thinks of who to call first. His parents? Ha. He could call his sisters, but if they don’t know then he didn’t want to worry them. He’d call Tia Pepa but she’s probably with Abuela already so calling Abuela’s home phone is the best bet. 

She’s calm if not incredibly saddened when she picks up the phone. Abuela  lets out a fast stream of spanish that’s said through tears once she realizes its him. He waits patiently for her to finish talking before reassuring her she’s fine. Eddie wants to tell her about Christopher, but he’s worried about Abuela having a heart attack so instead he promises to bring Chris over for lunch tomorrow. He then talks to Tia Pepa for a bit, but there’s not much new to say because Abuela had the phone call on speaker. She thanks god that he’s okay and that he better see her as soon as possible.

When they hang up he immediately calls Bobby. As he waits for him to pick up the phone he gives the nurse a sheepish smile and promises that this is the last call. 

“Hello Bobby Nash, who is this?”

“Bobby? It’s Eddie, listen, my phone got damaged in the tsunami. Buck, Chris and I were at the pier and I can’t find them anymore Bobby.”

“Hey, hey, hey, Eddie, you need to breathe. Okay breathe.” Eddie rubs his hand over his eyes as he takes a deep breath. 

“Okay Where are you right now.”

“The new VA hospital they set up.”

“Okay I know where that is. I’m going to send out a message to keep an eye out for Buck and Christopher. I’ll also ask Maddie to start calling the hospitals to see if they have Buck. We’re going to find them okay Eddie. Buck’s a fighter, we’re going to find him and Chris.”

“I know Cap it’s just-.”

“Hey Hey, this isn’t your fault, you can’t blame yourself for this. Stay there at the hospital so we know where to send Buck and Chris when we find them.”

“Yeah okay, okay, okay.” 

“Okay, are you okay?”

“Umm yeah I’m fine, shallow cut and sprained wrist. I’m fine Cap, it's Buck and Chris.”

“I know that, but I worry about you too. I gotta go, they need me, but take care of yourself okay? Stay safe?”

“Yes sir.” Bobby hung up and Eddie gave the nurse back her phone. 

The nurse left almost immediately to tend to other patients. Eddie took a deep breath before taking the next step. He knew someone had to have a list of patients at this hospital somewhere, he just had to figure out who. Eddie got up from his cot to start looking around. 

The first few people were a bust. Lady #1 was actually a nurse who just finished tending to a patient. Man #2 was actually an off duty first responder helping out. Lady and Man #3 and #4 were family of some of the victims of the tsumai. Eddie was starting to get frustrated. He needed to find his son and partner quickly. The longer they were out there the more Eddie’s insides turned into knots. 

He walked forward towards the entrance and saw a woman with a clipboard. “Hello ma’am is that a list of patients for the VA hospital?”

The woman turned toward him and smiled politely. “Yes it is. Who are you looking for?”

“My son Christopher Diaz. He’s 8 years old and about 4 feet 5 inches tall. He was wearing a yellow striped shirt and khakis. I’m also looking for my partner Evan Buckley. Late twenties 6’2’’ wearing a pink button up, white shirt and some jeans. He has an identifiable birth mark on his right eyebrow that could be mistaken for a burn scar.”

The lady pursed her lips as she scanned through the papers. Eddie tried not to loom or tap his foot as he waited. When her face fell and she frowned he tried not to cry or get violent. “No, I’m sorry sir, I don’t have anyone like that listed here. They could be at another hospital, or,” the lady pointed to a nearby tent, “they could be there.” 

Eddie followed his gaze to the place she was pointing at. “The, the-” black trash bags were piled in front of a stark white tent. That could mean it was only one type of place. 

“I’m so sorry sir, if your family is actually there.” Eddie barely nodded at her, listlessly making his way over to the tent. Part of him wanted to believe that Buck and Christopher was at another hospital, but if they were, wouldn’t they have been found by someone. Wouldn’t Eddie have tangible proof that they were alive? Tears started streaming down Eddie’s face. His knees started to wobble as he started scanning through the list of the deceased kept just outside the doors of the tent.

---

“Eddie! Has anyone seen an Eddie Diaz?!” A loud voice echoed in the background. Eddie frowned. It sounded a lot like Buck, but he- the lady said he was-

“My name is Evan Buckley, have you seen Edmundo Diaz?” The voice was slightly softer this time. Eddie turned around and almost fell to his knees. There, bathed in the LED lights was his best friend clutching his child in his arms. Eddie sobbed and started running to them.

“Buck! Buck!” 

“Eddie?” Buck wanted to run to Eddie, but walking was hard enough. He stayed where he was and let Eddie run into him. It didn’t take long. Buck quickly felt Eddie wrap his arms around both him and Christopher. 

It was then in his best friend's arms that Buck finally let the weight of the day catch up to him. His knees buckled and he went boneless in Eddie’s arms. Said man took it like a champ, first he made sure he had a secure hold on Chris, then he let himself sink to the ground with Buck. The younger man rested his back on Eddie’s chest and relaxed. The uncomfortable, burning pressure on his legs and arms was finally eased. Buck made a happy little sigh and burrowed further into Eddie, just as Chris was doing in his sleep. Maybe he should’ve been embarrassed by it but he just spent over five hours slowly losing hope that he would ever find Eddie alive. It would take the fear of God to separate them. 

Eddie seemed to have the same idea. The arm that wasn’t around Christopher tightened around Buck’s waist. The younger man could hear his partner murmur prayers in what he thought was spanish. Tears, of what Buck hoped was relief fell from Eddie’s face onto Buck’s shoulder. 

“Oh god, oh my god, I thought- I-” Eddie rambled, finding his voice again.

“Hey, hey hey, I’m fine. Me and Chris are all right.”

Eddie made a disbelieving noise. “Okay my leg hurts like a bitch and I probably have one too many cuts, but it’s nothing life threatening.” 

“You wouldn’t lie to me?”

“Not after the day I’ve had.”

“In a minute we should get you checked out.”

“Aww you can’t do it for me?” Buck shifted his head slightly to bat his eyes at Eddie.

“No, an unbiased professional should handle you,” Eddie whispered hoping the night sky would hide his blush. Buck nodded and listened to Eddie breathing. 

“We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Buck whispered, like a mantra. He brought Eddie’s hand up to rest above his heart so Eddie could feel his heart beat. “We’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay,” Even though Buck actually did need medical help, the trio stayed like that a little while longer, basking in the fact that all three of them were lucky enough to make it out alive and to return to each other. 

[buttterknifeee]

I posted 192 times in 2021

134 posts created (70%)

58 posts reblogged (30%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.4 posts.

I added 373 tags in 2021

#tim drake - 50 posts

#batman - 48 posts

#dc comics - 41 posts

#batfam - 41 posts

#dick grayson - 41 posts

#robin - 38 posts

#dc headcanon - 32 posts

#dc universe - 28 posts

#headcanon - 27 posts

#bat man - 27 posts

Longest Tag: 70 characters

#literally writing this because i want relatable asian rep in dc so bad

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

HC that tim and damians sibling relationship is more like death threats to deciding what to eat for dinner in the span of one conversation.

"I hate you so much i hope you die in your sleep"

"Well at least when I'm dead i don't have to see your ugly face"

"ugh I'm kinda hungry tho"

"hey theres this pizza place that just opened up"

"sounds good we should go"

333 notes • Posted 2021-06-04 05:53:31 GMT

#4

When u make fake batfam social media screenshots normalize everyone else having popular/verified accounts and stuff and jason posting from a different burner account each week. (because he’s, yk, legally dead)

He has like 500 accounts that are like “user 34829759838″ with no pfp. And all the batkids interact with all of his accounts like its normal and everyone outside the family are confused af

446 notes • Posted 2021-04-19 06:45:10 GMT

#3

dc give dick grayson a helmet challenge man has been through too many head related injuries/deaths

501 notes • Posted 2021-05-03 05:20:46 GMT

#2

Happy birthday to that tim guy I've had a hyperfixtation on for the past 4 months. I hope they finally make you an adult and give you a mullet again.

Yes this is my art no reposts or u will suffer

871 notes • Posted 2021-07-19 15:22:30 GMT

#1

I roast you based on which batboy you have a crush on

this is all joke btw pls dont murder me in my sleep

Bruce:

you’re either a millenial or you’re into dilfs

you think you’re the therapist friend

you think you’d be the “cool mom” when you get kids

But you’re the wine aunt

or you said you liked bruce unironically but now you actually like him

Dick

touch starved

you’ve never met a “nice guy” who was actually nice and you want that in a relationship

you’re sad right now i can feel it

I dont think you like reading

Jason

you see your first mistake was having a crush on someone with a j name-

please lower your voice 

To sum it up people who crush on jason remind me of this ex friend named Sophia who gave me trauma

no i will not elaborate

You like to focus on the fact that people say jason likes poetry not the part where he kills people often

Tim

you’ve never met a guy who is equal/ greater than you in terms of intelligence and wasnt a dick about it

hopeless romantic but has never had a boyfriend

you probably also like timothee chalamet or other white boys of the month

You might need to see a therapist idk

Damian

How are your grades?

you probably are a daminette enthusiast because you project onto marinette LMAO 

Why do you fall for guys who don’t care about you

get off of minecraft and get your life together

enfp

Duke

Im cutting you guys some slack bc there’s NO duke content ever

youre either a middle child or lonely tho

Alfred

god fears you

1623 notes • Posted 2021-04-11 07:35:15 GMT

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