#why an empty file scary

[madeofmosaic]

me: aight, I'll finally write something tonight! *opens up empty word file* *gets scared because its EMPTY* .... okay maybe not

[marcsburnerphone]

Wish I never came

Captain john price x f!reader

Summary: being johns wife has been full of security and safety and you never thought he’d be the one to taint that.

Warnings: angst(why doesn’t anyone write about how scary price can be when hes angry peepaw is cra), hurt/comfort, 141 task force loves you, price is fucking scary.

Part 2 out now!

—-------------------

Every first friday of the month you bring the boys and your husband a homemade meal to base. It’s been tradition for almost two years now since the first time you did it on a whim, John begged you for a good roast so you surprised him with some and since there was so much you’d brought the rest for his task.

Today you've perfected the dish gaz asked for, they decided rotations on requests now because it became unfair when soap requested meals only he liked 4 months in a row.

You packed all 4 meals in airtight thermal containers and put them in the car before heading towards base about 2 hours away. The military police men greeted you by first name when you arrived and buzzed you in.

“I've never been happier to see someone in my life.” soap rushes you and traps you in a hug while gaz takes the two bags from your hands.

“Good afternoon, wheres simon and john?” you greet both of them with smiles something that was relieving to see in a place like this. The common area was empty during this time of day so it was clear they weren't here.

Before they could answer simon came in, eyes looking more exhausted than usual. He gives a weak attempt at an ‘hello love’ a common and yet sweet name they’d picked up for you.

“I honestly wouldn't go into his office right now hes a little um on edge i’d say.” he grabs his thermal bowl from the bag its always the black one, this way they dont fight over which bowl has more.

“Nonsense simon he’s my husband, im just going to bring him this and be on my way.” simon shook his head turning a satisfied groan at the taste of real food in his mouth to a disapproving one at your persistence.

“love maybe listen he’s under a lot of pressure right now, its really not the time.” gaz interrupts simons beginning of a sentence.

Without another word you just grab his bowl and a fork setting off torwars his office which at this point you could get to blind.

“Are we just going to let her do that.” gaz looks to the two men.

“We warned and she’s right thats her husband i mean worst he’ll do is ignore her, loves her too much to hurt her.” ghost grumbles.

—

The air is tense on your way down the hall but you approach his door regardless as the familiar scent of a lit cigar fills your senses. You give two knocks before walking in.

“Hey just brought you some lunch.” you say quietly as you walk in observing the splay of files on the floor and desk.

He grunts and doesn't even spare you a look which yeah it stings but it was expected.

“Okay then can I leave it right here?” you point at a spot on a coffee table thats somewhat clear.

“Do whatever you want with it, mm not hungry.” he says lowly while taking another drag from his cigar letting the ash fall freely.

“So should i just leave it in the kitchen, i can just-.” you didn't know why you were rambling or nervous even john had only ever made you feel safe. 

“I fuckin said do what you please with it, I’m busy.” the tone made you shiver, and yes maybe you should've just left it and talked to him later but this wasn't a behavior from him you've ever experienced.

“John I-” 

“Jesus fucking christ take the food, leave the food I dont fucking care but get the fuck out of here as soon as you can thankyou!” His voice makes you flinch as he throws a stack of papers on the floor with an unneeded force, he yelled at you for the first time ever and you couldn't even process it. Was time bending or had the air become thin, you didn't know but you took a few weary steps back towards the door and left the food by the entrance on the floor finally closing it, once you were back in the hallway air found it’s way to your lungs as you took a deep breath.

“Hey its okay come on.” gaz was there gently caressing your arm along with the two others catching up behind him in the distance.

They never thought hed talk to you like that but right when they heard that deep threatening drawl boom from the common area gaz was the first one up and out. He was always overly protective of you.

You weren't crying, no but you wanted to. You just closed your eyes for what felt like ages and whispered an ‘I’m okay’ and left without another word.

Once you reached the comfort of your own car your heart caught up with the speed of your brain and tears poured, the last time you’d cried like this had been in childhood. Without another second you sped around the lot and out of the exiting gates wishing you'd never entered them in the first place.

You got a call not so long into your way home, maybe five minutes if you estimated correctly and you almost gagged at the picture of you and john that popped up as he rang you.

The boys were the ones to call next but you just dazed out on the long road ahead, disassociated from the outside world around you. You stopped at a cafe you particularly enjoyed in a town near your home needing to clear your thoughts. 

Price had waited and even started counting seconds to see if you'd pop up on the ring camera he installed to keep an eye on you, it brought him comfort especially when you'd make cute gestures at it or talk to him through it as you brought groceries inside. But now you should've been home an hour ago at most and still no sign of you.

He had not comprehended how loud he could get and he really only snapped out of it when soap appeared in his office with a very disapproving look. Then he finally noticed the look of fear in your eyes or how the sweet smile you always wore was a frown and then his gaze made it to the container he’d grown so familiar with by the door.

“FUCK!” he could cry grown man tears, he spoke to you how he sometimes speaks to his soldiers and the strings in his heart felt like they were on the verge of combusting.

“You fucked up captain.” soap added to the fuel before leaving his office.

—----------------

Anyone feel that chest pain.

Re-blogs and feedback are appreciated 🫶

[oracle-of-dream]

Sweetness #2

Minors DNI

A continuation of Sweetness; Anton caught Sungchan taking advantage of your hypnosis and wants a piece.

Warnings: Male Reader, Big Cocks Riize, Creampie, Standing fuck, Forced entry, Hypnosis, Slight Dubcon, Rough sex

Wordcount: 2.2k

The morning was tense and quiet. You slept the longest, which kept the members shifting between rooms as they avoided the living room.

One by one, they filed into Sungchan's room.

"So now what?" Seunghan asked.

"We just act normal. Nothing happened last night. We just played games, got drunk, and went to bed. That's our story," Sungchan's calmness put order among the chaos in the others.

All except Anton, "Yeah. Nothing happened."

Sungchan raised his eyebrow, "You wanna talk to me about something?"

Anton shook his head, "No, it's nothing."

The members awkwardly left the room, trying to go about their morning. The only one who was brave enough to go into the living room was Wonbin. He walked right past you while you slept on the couch, giving the others the courage to do the same. Eventually, everyone started getting brave enough to move around and make noise.

As Sungchan went to his room from the kitchen, Anton pulled him into the bathroom.

"Anton, what the hell?"

"Don't give me that! What the fuck is with you?" Anton whispered.

Sungchan's face morphed into confusion, "What is it?"

"I saw you last night. I know what you did to y/n."

Sungchan's eyes widened, "You can't tell anyone about that." He thought about how you were faking the hypnosis. "How much did you hear?"

"I heard you tell him to suck your cock," Anton whispered even more when saying the last part of the sentence. "It's not fair that you can have free reign over him after preaching that we need to respect him."

"So I should tell everyone to go crazy on him?"

"No… I've got a proposal."

Sungchan raised an eyebrow, "Spit it out."

"I won't tell the others and Y/n what you did if you can buy me some alone time with him," Anton stuck his hand out for a handshake.

"What do you want from him?"

"You know what– We can never bring girls home, and we've barely had time to get around. So if I see my window, why shouldn't I take it?

Sungchan hated the thought of giving you away for Anton, but he had no choice. The members would tear him apart for being such a hypocrite.

"Fine. I'll buy you time," Sungchan shook Anton's hand, sealing the forbidden deal.

The two exit the bathroom just as you stir from your slumber.

Wonbin was watching the news on the TV near you, "Weather says a bad snowstorm is coming. We'll be snowed in together for the next few days."

"Yay! More time with my boys!" You cheered.

Some cheered, but Sungchan felt a knot in his stomach. Something was going to go wrong.

Anton was tingling from the news– More days with you. He couldn't admit it to Sungchan, but he'd always wanted to sleep with you. Even go for something more if you'd let him, but he never had the chance to ask you out before becoming a part of Riize.

You cooked breakfast for the others. You'd brought food since you knew their fridge would be empty, but there was no way it would last the snowstorm. You were going through your ingredients when you heard someone behind you.

The voice whispered, "Sweetie, can we talk in private?" It was Anton. Trying to command you into another room.

You stood, leaving your ingredients on the counter, and followed him as the rest of the boys watched you closely.

Wonbin spoke up, "Where ya headed, y/n?"

"I need to shower. Anton wanted to help me find the towels," You replied with a smile.

Anton was amazed at how fast you lied. Hypnosis was a scary beast.

Sungchan walked into the living room as You and Anton left it. They exchanged looks, and Sungchan started a conversation loud enough to grab everyone's attention. He was planning a trip into the cold before things got too bad.

Anton led you into his room and locked the door behind you. You could see his cock already bulging in his sweatpants.

"O-Okay, now, Sweetness, I want you to undress for me," Anton shifted his weight back and forth nervously.

You had to swallow a smile as you turned away from him to unbutton your shirt and slide your pants off as slowly as possible.

"You can go faster," He said impatiently.

You ignored him, teasing him as your underwear slid down your legs.

As soon as you were naked enough for him, Anton took your hand, guided you to his bed, and sat you down. He handled you rather clumsily, but you tried to Anton’s wants.

"You're like a doll… I wish you were more like you. I like you more that way," He muttered as he sized you up and slid his pants off.

Anton always wore baggy clothes, but he was an athlete through and through. His back was large, with broad shoulders and biceps that made you instantly smile.

"Sweetness. Lay down."

You did.

"How did he cum like this? Did he say something specific?" Anton muttered as he climbed on you, his hand sweeping your neck. He studied your face closely with tenderness, "God, you're beautiful… And for now, you're all mine. I've got it so bad for you, and I'm too much of a coward to tell you." He kissed your lips, "You still love me anyways, even if I'm a coward, right?"

You finally broke character with a big smile, "A coward?"

Anton flinched, "Y-You–" He climbed off you and covered his cock that was shaking in his boxers.

"Me," You smiled as you sat up. You slipped on a button-up shirt on Anton’s bed but left it open. "This is the part where you apologize for trying to take advantage of me," You raised an eyebrow.

"Right. I'm sorry. I wasn't going to do it– It wasn't you…" Anton hung his head with shame.

"Then, how about this? We keep up the illusion for a little longer. Let everyone think I'm under the spell. Everyone is in trouble, but how much depends on them."

Anton nodded, "And if we do that?"

"Well, you came in here to fuck me, right? We have to keep up the game. Or the others will catch on," You laid back down and put your arms out for him. "Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you. Don't forget the magic word."

"Sweetness?" Anton questioned.

You raised your eyebrows as you waited for his order.

"We're fucking. Right now. But you have to stay quiet. Any noises from you should be you calling me, Daddy," Anton's chest swelled at Daddy.

"Yes, Daddy," You cooed to him.

He took that as his go-ahead, diving into you. His large frame overtook you as he planted himself between your legs. He was excited, holding you down as his mouth crashed into your lips. Anton forgets how big he is as he watches you strain your neck to meet his lips.

"S-Sorry," He whispered as he lowered himself more.

Now his weight was crushing you, his hands tightly wrapped around your wrists as he threw you around without a care in the world.

"Anton, you're being too rough," You moaned.

"Don't be like that. I know you can handle it. You're Daddy's boy, right?" He lifted your leg onto his shoulder, stretching you as he pushed your leg toward your head. "Oh, so flexible~" He kissed your inner thigh as he lifted your other leg to match.

The stretch of your leg muscles burned, but nothing compared to feeling Anton pushing into you, as was rushing to get to the good part. He fumbled, missing your hole twice before slamming into you fully.

"Oh, holy– Fuck!" You covered your mouth to contain your noises. Your body recoiled as you tried to crawl away from Anton, sliding on your back as his cock slipped out of you.

"Don't run."

"It's too much! You're too big–"

Anton grabbed you by your hips and pulled you back into him, pushing his cock back into you. "You can take it," He rubbed your stomach and squeezed your size to encourage you. "Just breathe."

Anton breathed with you, caressing you as you looked into his eyes. "Sweetness. Stay quiet," He commanded as he lifted you onto him. He looked up at you, your nipples poking at his face, as he smiled, "You look beautiful on me, more than I imagined."

Your hands found their way to land on his shoulders. Anton's still were perched on your hips, pulling you down. Somehow he kept having more dick to shove into you. By the end of it, at least nine inches were inside of you. It was shorter than Sungchan's by two whole inches, but inside you, it didn't make a difference as you felt your brain melting.

"I'm all in. Can you bounce, Sweetness?" Anton asked.

You slithered your fingers into his hair and tugged on it, earning a girlish moan from him. "You shove all that in me and expect me to do the work?"

"N-No, of course not… I was kidding," Anton whinced at the pain of your tugging. But when you let him go, he put your hand back on his head, "Again, please."

You pulled on his hair again, and a more manly groan came out since he was ready this time. He lifted your hips and slammed you down onto him, knocking the air right out of you. The sensation shot up your spine as you saw stars on the ceiling. You couldn't bring your neck to relax enough to look down at Anton, and you pulled harder as he picked up the pace.

Anton told you to be quiet, but he was making more noise than you were. The moans, whimpers, the bed creaking, and the sound of your skin slapping together filled the room.

It was only three hits before you were cumming on Anton's stomach. Your fingers dug into his shoulder, and your voice was barely audible, "Wait, please– I need a second."

"No more waiting, I need to cum too!" Anton stood and carried you as he thrust into you, getting even deeper than earlier. Tears ran down your face from the overstimulation. You couldn't stop moaning and didn't stop as Anton lost his mind, pounding into you fiercely until one hard thrust made him spill into you. His cock shot out so much cum.

You twitched, reeling from every motion as Anton came down from his high. His chest heaved, "Did you survive?"

You couldn't answer– your jaw tightened shut.

"Sweetness? You okay?" Anton's voice was concerned when he realized how much he'd fucked you up.

Your hair was a mess, tear stains on your face, and your ass was spilling cum on the floor. You have bite marks on your neck and bruises on your hips.

"Oh god. Um– Y/n, please don't kill me. Let's get you down," Anton gently laid you on the bed, his cock still inside you. "I'm gonna pull out now, try and bare it." Anton pulled out in one quick motion, earning moans from you and turning you into a shuddering mess as you came again. He bit down his pride as he covered you under his sheet, "You lay here. I'll get towels and more clothes for you."

Anton left the room, turning the light off behind him as he slipped his shirt over his head. He fixed his hair and pants and straightened his back before entering the living room.

Seunghan and Eunseok were sitting at the table, staring at him.

"Really?" Seunghan spat.

"What?"

Eunseok jumped in, "Don't you think we could hear that? You weren't even trying to be quiet."

"You're lucky Sungchan convinced the others to try and run to the store with him to get more ingredients. We stayed back," Seunghan looked at Anton fiercely. "Let's talk, Anton."

Anton sat down at the table, "You can't tell the others!"

"You're not in the position to tell us that! You broke the agreement. We all said we'd respect y/n, not fuck him."

"Sungchan broke it first!" Anton wanted to take it back as soon as he said it, but it was too late.

"Explain."

Anton explained what he'd seen the night before between you and Sungchan. Eunseok and Seunghan could hardly believe that he was such a hypocrite.

"Well, if you two can get a pass. Then we're getting on too," Seunghan laughed. "And I know we won't get caught like you two idiots. And you’ll help us, Anton."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we'll tell y/n and the others. Sungchan will kill you for ratting him out. The others will kill you for fucking y/n. And y/n will kill us all for hypnotizing him, but you more because you took advantage of him."

Anton held in his smirk, knowing that you were testing everyone else. He didn't like the thought that everyone might make an attempt on you, but he couldn't ruin your plan. Especially if that meant he'd get to fuck you again.

"Okay, I'll help. But help me clean y/n up before the others get here."

Eunseok and Seunghan looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

Eunseok leaned in, "We'll handle that. Just get towels. We're going to take a shower."

Anton ran off to get the towels, trying not to get hard again as he thought about the both of them fucking you.

[lovelytsunoda]

the scaredy cat support group | logan sargeant

summary: much to her dismay, y/n's friends have dragged her to see the scariest film of the season. luckily for her, the blond sitting next to her in a darkened cinema seems to be just as petrified as she is

pairing: logan sargeant x female! reader

warnings: scary movies & scaredy cats, implications of fear and gore, logan being a sweetie.

"this is such a bad idea."

the theater was packed, groups of people passing by them to get into the auditorium, eager to see the latest blood-soaked halloween killfest on screens. y/n, however, just couldn't get her feet to move. her friends stood just in front of her, worried looks on their faces as they looked back at her.

y/n loved halloween, make no mistake. it was her favourite holiday by leaps and bounds. she loved micheal meyers and ghostface and even freddy krueger.

but she absolutely hated being scared. she was a sensitive soul, and that was why she preferred older horror movies that were limited on the level of blood and guts.

"are you sure you don't want to sit this one out? we told you you didn't have to come." her friend said gently.

"no, no. i came here to spend time with you guys because i love you. and no scary movie is going to keep me from doing that."

she was reassured by the group of college guys that came in after her, with an athletic looking blond hanging back to stare at the film poster with a similar queasy look to the one that she was sporting.

"alright, let's get this over with. but if i barf up my popcorn, it's on you guys!"

they filed into the dark theatre, previews already beginning to play out on the big screen in front of them. their group of five took up most of the row, which, being in a small cinema, only held ten seats.

she sat in the middle, next to gloriously empty seat as she tried to steel herself for what was to come, with reminders to herself that it was all made from special effects, and she could walk out of that theater and into the real world whenever she wanted.

"is this seat taken?"

she look up and towards the soft speaker, who was using his phone flashlight to try and find his ticketed seat. it was the same blonde who had stopped to stare at the poster outside, and he looked a little pale in the face as he sat down next to her.

"not a fan of being scared?" she whispered, offering him some popcorn. "me neither."

"oh good. that means i'm not going to be the only one shaking like a baby." he laughed. "god, i would much rather have gone to see fucking joker or something."

"i wasn't given an option. they just told me that this is what was happening and i was invited if i wanted to. i'm y/n."

"logan."

"will you two be quiet?" the man behind them hissed. "some of us are trying to watch a movie.

logan shrugged, typing something on his phone before showing her the screen.

a movie that hasn't even started yet? i didn't realize that the advertisement for jackass was so interesting

"and turn your damn brightness down!"

y/n stifled a laugh as she watched logan pretend to give the guy the middle finger before slipping his phone into the pocket of his hoodie. the lights in the theater dimmed even further, the feature presentation beginning to unfold on screen.

to her credit, she lasted about half an hour before she jumped, knocking over her bag of popcorn and spilling some slippery buttery kernels into Logan’s lap. she was mortified, but the massage logan typed out on his phone reassured her that everything was fine.

it’s all good, squeeze my hand if u get 2 scared

no points for grammar, but five for being a sweetie.

naturally, it was logan who reached for her hand first, during a particularly gory on screen kill that had y/n squeezing her eyes shut and physically turning away from the screen while logan clutched her cold hand in his.

despite herself, she found Logan’s touch to be comforting. what did that say about her that a little scary movie had her seeking out comfort from strangers? (don’t tell her mother that or she would start singing the jamie walters song and everyone would be miserable) for a minute, she almost forgot that she’d come with a group of friends and was only reminded of that fact when one of them messaged her.

getting cozy over there? see, horror flicks are a great place to pick up guys! just make sure his favourite isn’t american psycho.

she giggled, looking over at her friend, who flashed her a thumbs up before turning back to the screen. that scene had long since passed, but logan continued to hold her hand, and she could feel his muscles tense as a scare drew nearer and nearer on the big screen.

she squeezed his hand reassuringly, only to be clutching it in terror moments later, one hand clapped over her mouth to stifle a scream. Logan reached over her body, almost as if he was gallantly and protectively trying to shield her body with his own.

she was going to fall in love with him at this rate if she wasn’t careful.

the movie finished, winding down in a way that much much calmer, if not eerie compared to what they had seen throughout the course of the film. she was relieved to see the end credits roll, although displeased at the idea of leaving logan behind.

she followed her friends out of the cinema, dropping her empty popcorn container in the trash as she went.

"y/n!" a voice called after her.

she paused, turning around to see logan standing just near the door. she glanced back at her friends, smiling when she saw their excited faces, gesturing wildly towards logan.

she walked up to the blonde, hands tucked nervously in the pockets of her flannel coat.

"hey," she started, rocking back and forth on her heels

"hey." logan grinned, scratching at the beck of his neck. "so, i think you're really cute." just out of her range of vision, she could see logan's friends standing behind him, sticking their thumbs up and whistling in encouragement. "and i was wondering if you wanted to go and get a coffee with me?"

she beamed, looking back to her friends for approval, one last time.

"i would love to. after all, you were my protector in there."

logan smiled. "is now okay with you? there's a little place in the plaza just across the way."

"sounds perfect."

[revelboo]

BEGGING ON ALL FOURS FOR MORE STARSCREAM AND HIS LITTLE HUMAN shield PET

Everything is Alright Pt 2

Starscream x reader

• At some point you fell asleep wrapped in your weird smelling blanket that’s doing blessedly little against the chill in the huge room. By some miracle, your sleep is dreamless and not full of murderous robots. It’s cut short when you wake up to having a giant, alien fistful of junk food dumped on you. Including soda cans and those hurt.

• Starscream watches you fight free of the little nest you’ve made, while swearing nonstop. Up until you look up and spot him watching. Venting softly in amusement as your shoulders hunch and you drop your wide eyes to what he’s brought you, he waits. If he’s going to keep you as a bargaining chip to thwart the Autobots, you’ll need to be fed.

• Junk food. Your captor just dumped a handful of junk food on you- beef jerky, chips, soda, and candy. That has to be a good sign, right? Why bother feeding you if he’s just going to squish you? You just wish he hadn’t dropped it all on top of you. And you aren’t going to think too closely on where this stuff has come from. It’s not like he can just walk into a store and buy it. You’re snapped out of thoughts of sirens and explosions when you realize those fearsome red eyes are scrutinizing you and when you offer up a quiet and very uncertain ‘thank you?’ Big, scary robot freezes. Those wings on his back flick up then back down. Is… he surprised you thanked him?

• While he’s not exactly accustomed to being appreciated, Starscream recovers quickly enough. Of course, you’re thanking him. Your pitiful human life depends on him now. Which is a bit worrying now that he’s actually thinking about it. But how hard can humans be to care for?

• You’re positive that the thank you did take him off guard, a useful fact you file away for later. If it keeps you alive, then you will absolutely fawn over your captor, because you suspect he not only enjoys the attention, he craves it. And that smug, preening smirk paired with those little wing flutters? For a kidnapping killer robot, he’s kind of adorable. Not that you will ever admit that, because you definitely don’t have a death wish.

• Reaching into the empty cube he’s left the human in so it can’t get under ped, he’s only mildly annoyed that it scoots back as if to avoid his hand. Cocooned in that old cleaning cloth as it is, it doesn’t get far before he catches it and lifts it free. Tiny, soft hands clutch at his servos and he can feel its frantic heartbeat as he carries it to set on his desk.

• Heart hammering against your ribs, you swallow down the panic as he places you on a desk before taking a seat and reaching for a huge tablet. You’re not sure what to make of your new found freedom, but you really wish you’d grabbed a handful of snacks before you’d been snatched. You’re hungry.

• Scrolling through reports, Starscream keeps an optic on his new- what, pet? Yes. A pet. Letting out a long drawn vent, he works and tracks you as you stand up still wrapped in your cleaning cloth and dragging it along as you cautiously move around his desk. It only takes a low growl under his breath to discourage you from getting near the edge.

• Your head snaps around to your captor. Yep, he’s watching you. While you’d only wanted to see how high up you were, that apparently isn’t allowed. You retreat closer to him, watching indecipherable alien glyphs scroll on his tablet.

• “Can you believe those idiots? I told them that mine was unstable,” he mutters to himself, refocusing on his work. What he doesn’t expect is for you to wander closer, little face tipped up toward him.

• “They should have listened to you,” you say because agreeing with him has worked so far. And there it is, he freezes and those wings flick slightly. Red eyes dart toward you and away. Then back. He really does crave validation, doesn’t he? And it’s so easy.

Previous Next

[unreliablesnake]

Big reputation (Simon Riley x reader)

Summary: You got injured on the field and now Ghost feels bad. Well, maybe it's not just guilt...

Note: The people have spoken. Soft!Ghost. Fluff. Short story.

In your previous team you managed to enrage a general that you shouldn’t have, and apparently kicking you out of your comfortable position was his way of punishing you. So now you came to meet your new team at the base, already having ideas of who’s who based on rumors circulating in the military. 

There was Price who was fair and relatively calm, Gaz who was loyal to the fault and was a surprisingly nice guy in general once he warmed up to you, and you couldn’t forget about Soap–whose call sign you found utterly ridiculous–who was a big mouthed but reportedly funny Scotsman. 

And then there was Ghost, the man who was a mystery to most. No one has seen his face from the people you talked to about the team, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t get to see it either. But that was okay. Him being a big and scary guy wearing a skull mask that every single person was terrified of was more than enough to make you cautious around him.

Fast forward to four months later, when Ghost became your shadow after a fucked up mission where you got hurt. It happened under his watch so he was probably blaming himself, but he never really gave you a reason why he was always near you. Soap was the one who mentioned him possibly feeling guilty, and since you had no better idea, you believed it to be true.

The big scary guy didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was more like a loyal guard dog that followed you everywhere and scared off people you didn't want to be around.

“You should go to bed, it’s late,” he said one evening after a briefing.

It was only the two of you in the room, everyone had left already, but he was going through some reports before taking them to Price. You let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your thighs as you observed him. He had left the room before, but after it emptied and it was only you in there, he came back with the files. Out of nowhere. Without a warning. He mumbled something about needing a quiet place, but that was a terrible excuse considering he had his room to go to.

For some reason he glanced over at you every once in a while, watching you as if there was something he wanted to say to you. But every time your eyes met, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. He didn’t speak up and you weren’t about to bother him with questions. Ghost was usually pissed if someone asked too many questions, this is how Soap got burned a few times in the past. 

Then something changed. He closed the folder and turned his attention to you again, this time not shying away from making it obvious he was staring. You raised an eyebrow in question, hoping he would say something, but he remained silent. With a groan you stood up and walked over to him, gently pushing the folder away so you could sit on the edge of the desk next to the lieutenant. 

His hand inched closer, just enough to let his little finger brush your thigh. “It’s late,” he repeated his previous statement. 

“I’m not sleepy,” you replied with a shrug. “Why have you been watching me like this? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then?”

Ghost sighed under the mask and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He was toying with it for a few moments, his eyes focused on the item instead of you. “You’re causing me quite a few sleepless nights, Rabid,” he muttered as he pulled out a cigarette from the box. He called you by the nickname that awful general had given you a few months back, and you knew he never did that without a good reason. 

What were you supposed to say to that? I’m sorry? No, that wouldn’t be right. So you chose to be careful with your next words. “You can’t sleep?” you asked him, genuinely interested. 

“Not when all I can think about is you and what I’ve done to you,” he replied quietly. 

“Why, what have you done to me?”

He shook his head, mumbled something like ���fuck it’, then pulled his mask to his nose and lit the cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him getting in trouble for this. Price would be angry, because he believed if he could refrain from lighting a cigar indoors, so could others. So now that Ghost was inhaling the smoke with closed eyes, you didn’t know what to do or say. He would eventually speak up, right? 

Just when you were beginning to think he wouldn’t talk to you, his amber eyes landed on you and he said, “I sent you in there. You got hurt because of me.”

Soap had been right, he really did blame himself. Interesting. “Ghost, that wasn’t your fault,” you assured him. “Shit happens, it comes with the job. Don’t blame yourself.”

His free hand moved to take yours in his, and his long, thick, and gloved fingers wrapped around it gently. “I’m not blaming myself for you getting hurt, I know it comes with the job. I just can’t stop thinking about the what ifs. What if you died? What if you got so injured you would be discharged from the force? What if you were mad at me? What if you left me behind?” This last one made you raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t considered this after what happened,” he told you. 

“Never thought about leaving you behind,” you admitted. “You would mind? If I left and we never met again, I mean.”

Instead of answering, he raised your hand to his lips. “You and me… That would be quite a conversation, wouldn’t it? With your reputation and mine… Well,” he said, and you could see the shining in his eyes that gave away he was smiling. 

It took you a minute to realize he was talking about the two of you being in a romantic relationship. He was right, this would be huge. You were also a lieutenant, he wasn’t your superior, but people feared you both for different reasons. Ghost was… Ghost. All he had to do was stare at someone for five seconds and they would run away screaming. You, on the other hand, were feared because you were unpredictable. One wrong word and you would be at the poor bastard’s throat. 

So yeah. If there was anything to know, people wouldn’t shut up about it. You wondered if he was aware of the bets recruits were making about you. If there was anyone from base you slept with, it would be Ghost according to most of them. Maybe they were right. Maybe that was bound to happen. But maybe Ghost was taking part in the bet for fun. 

“I don’t care about that bet,” he suddenly spoke up. You were terrified for a moment since you had no idea how he figured out what you were just talking about. “I care about you. Would you mind if I kissed you?” 

You were too stunned to respond, all you could think about was the fact he dared to ask you this. You weren’t that close, not with him keeping a comfortable distance all the time. “Right now? Yeah, I would mind. Let’s just get to know each other first, yeah? Maybe over a drink.”

Ghost placed a soft kiss on your hand. “Anything you want,” he told you with a smile before pulling down the mask and getting rid of the remains of his cigarette. 

[tamas-love]

（ 제목 ） THE MORGUE.

PRESENT.⠀⟡​⠀working at the morgue late at night, something seems to be messing with you.

（ 박종성 ） — pairing = fem!worker + deadbody!jay.. ୨୧ warning = eery-ish, jay is a corpse.. ୨୧ wc = 731

a/n : a scary one !! i'm not sure if other people might find it scary, but i HATE morgues, it's the scariest thing for me..

click me! ↓

ㅤ𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐓 your desk, looking down at your time for most of the time. Today was the first day you had a nightshift, and it wasn't that bad. Most of the employees that worked at the morgue had quit their job the next day after working the night, but you didn't understand why.

ㅤ"How's the job?" Your best friend asks, fortunately lying in bed since she was unemployed. "It's not that bad, I just have to watch the cameras and check for any new bodies to store." You reply, messing around with your nails in boredom. 

ㅤ"That's not that bad, did you see anything spooky yet?~" She asks in a playful voice to which you roll your eyes and hang up. It was pretty normal for you to hang up on her at any random time, so she didn't think much of it.

ㅤYou look up at the monitors, showing what the camera picks up. You got a little bored so you put on the headphones, listening to the audio footage that the camera records. "...drop, drop." There was a faint sound of liquid droplets, which could mean a leak from one of the blood drainers.

ㅤTaking off the headphones, you place them down on the table and get up. Going over to the body storage rooms and flicking on the lights. You look around, scratching your scalp a little before going over to the sink area.

ㅤ"Ah, fuck." You mutter, watching how one of the body locker doors were slightly open and dripping with a black-ish colored liquid. You pull open the door all the way, carefully pulling out the roller for the corpse before pulling the body out of the capsule.

ㅤYou stare down at the dead man's face, glancing at the front of the door and checking to see what his name is. "Okay, Park Jay.. Let's clean you up." You say, as if talking to the body for real.

ㅤAs you look into the body capsule which was now empty you saw a little black figure.

ㅤQuickly jumping back before looking closer, there was nothing there. It looked like a pair of eyes and a black fog, but you suppose that you were hallucinating. You turn back to the corpse of Park Jay, rolling him away.

ㅤYou open the file holder, browsing through the files. "Lee.. Kim? Park? Park!" You saw the surname of Park, quickly pulling out the folder and opening it. "Park Sunghoon?" You mumble, before closing the folder and putting it back to its place before picking up the other one labeled as park.

ㅤ"Park Jay, here we are." Talking to yourself, you look at the file and quickly scan through it before putting it back. In the corner of your eye, you see the corpse's head slowly turn to face you. A creepy squelching sound coming from the neck.

ㅤYou turn your head and stare at it, blinking a few times. Suddenly, it sat up. It sat up. It fucking sat up. You scream in your head, freezing in place as the corpse's head turns again and faces you. This time, its neck let out a loud squelching sound and then a crack once it stopped.

ㅤYou stayed frozen, staring at the body of Park Jay. "What the-" As you spoke, the lights went out. Leaving you in a pitch black room with no idea where to go. Behind you, you hear a plop. As if the body fell back to it's original position.

ㅤThe lights slowly flicker back on, allowing you to see around the room again. You look down, and then around. Only to see the body was gone. No way it just got up and left, right? "Jay fu-" As you step forward, you hear something shift behind you.

ㅤIt sounded like the rustling of the paper gown the corpses had to wear. You shift your gaze down towards your feet, a puddle of blood surrounding you. "Huh?" You slowly turn around, only to see his body standing before you. The dim light from above reveals his dead pale skin and lifeless eyes.

© tamas-love on tumblr, © tamas-love on wattpad ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open.⠀⦂ ⠀@nheyri , @uoalirie

[salty-autistic-writer]

For @bucktommypositivityweek Day 1: what they love most about each other

Just The Way You Are

The things Buck and Tommy love most about each other are - ironically - the things they are most insecure about.

His past experiences have taught Buck that people don’t like when he talks too much. Especially when he talks too much about a topic they are not interested in. Small talk is practical. It serves a purpose. People ask a few general questions until they can start to talk about themselves. They don’t want to hear 1000 facts about something very specific. So whenever Buck catches himself getting too excited while rambling, he apologizes and tries to stop himself. It’s fine. He can file the information away in some corner of his mind, telling it to himself later. He doesn’t want to be exhausting.

But when he says, “I’m sorry” after he notices he rambles to Tommy while they are having dinner, Tommy blinks in confusion and says, “What for? Go on.”

What for? Huh. That’s not the … usual reaction.

“I was rambling,” Buck states, confused. “Yeah. And I love to hear you ramble," Tommy says.

Buck's breath falters. Did he hear that right? “You … Really?! You like it?"

“I would never lie to you, Evan," Tommy says seriously. "This is one of the things I love about you most. Please don’t stop.”

Buck exhales shakily. Suddenly, he feels heavy and light at the same time. Are those actual tears in his eyes? Damn. Must be all the childhood trauma hitting him all at once. All the times that he felt like he was being too much while at the same time never being enough. All those moments in which he felt like he was talking into the void because no one really wanted to listen to what he had to say. The disappointment. The anger he directed at himself. Because, yeah, why couldn't he just shut up?!

“Evan? Are you alright?” Tommy asks, his voice now filling with worry. Buck nods and clears his throat. “Yeah. I’m fine. It’s just … Most people don’t react like you just did. They tell me I’m annoying or exhausting or they just give me subtle hints that I should stop, you know? A sigh. A twitch of their eye. Or when their smile gets too wide and too bright so you know exactly that they are just faking it.”

Tommy reaches out and takes Buck’s hand, gently squeezing it. “I see. I’m sorry they couldn’t appreciate you for being your true self. You never have to stop rambling to me. Now please tell me more about spiders, maybe it will help me with my very irrational fear of them.”

Buck chuckles. “Okay. So, uh, did you know that there are spiders who fling their hair at predators?” Tommy raises a brow. “No, I didn’t know that. And I have a feeling it won't help me with being scared of spiders. But go on. Sounds fascinating.” +++

His past experiences have taught Tommy that life essentially is a stage play. People have certain expectations. If you don’t fulfil them, it leads to confusion and irritation. Usually, people don’t want to hear or see the truth. They want to hear and see what they like and what fits their view of the world around them.

It’s normal to play a role and wear a mask, especially when you realize that being yourself leads to a lot of confusing moments. It’s kind of funny most people just assume he's super extrovert and confident, then react bewildered when he tells them his social battery is empty and no, he can’t go to another bar right now. He has to recharge. People look at him and see someone big, strong, and confident. Someone who knows what he wants and who he is. Someone who takes charge. Someone who takes care of others and protects them.

Then comes Evan and he doesn’t leave like the others did. Evan stays and time passes and Tommy realizes he has to take off his mask and stop playing a role because it would be unfair to his boyfriend. It’s a scary moment, really. Because there's still a chance that Evan will look at him differently. That he will leave eventually.

But no matter what Tommy reveals about himself, Evan smiles and says okay and saves the information in his mind so he can remember it later. And he does. He remembers. He remembers that Tommy likes to know the plan beforehand and isn’t fond of having his routine interrupted by a surprise. He remembers that Tommy has to recharge his social battery and needs space for that. He remembers that Tommy doesn’t like certain smells or textures because they physically make him sick. He remembers everything and he never says a bad word about it.

When Evan looks at him, he doesn’t see something he created in his head, he sees all the things Tommy told Evan about himself. He sees that Tommy likes to let go sometimes and that he likes to be taken care of as well, as long as he can trust someone enough. And he trusts Evan. With all the things he didn’t dare to tell other people. When he tells Evan that he usually doesn't get to be the little spoon in bed, Evan first curses Tommy's past partners in colourful ways, then says, "We can both be little and big spoons, depending on how we feel and what we need. And if neither of us wants to be a certain spoon, then we can just turn to face each other. Spoons can look at each other as well."

Sometimes Tommy looks at Evan and thinks: He’s too good to be real.

And then Evan wraps his arms around Tommy from behind, sighing against the back of Tommy’s neck, his breath warm and tickling, and he says, “This is one of the things I love most. That you trust me with this. That you trust me with you.”

Turns out you’re only insecure about certain things until you find the person who accepts you just the way you are.

[spdrvyn]

im begging for miguel x reader where he’s sick/tired/woke up from a nightmare and is in desperate need of shooting. so she takes care of him - pure domestic contentment- grooming him/washing/shaving/brushing hair/towel drying/changing clothes (and socks 🥺)/feeding him - doing everything to relax him and make him feel loved

solace in your sweetness

summary: in the deep trenches of the night, miguel wakes up due to night terrors and you're very deadset on comforting him. no matter how many times he denies you that.

tags: hurt/comfort. very sweet and fluffy. reader isn't a spider-person. fem!reader.

notes: i love this request so so much, i have been ITCHING to do it. thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy reading this one!

Miguel didn't really have nightmares when he was younger. On the occasion that Gabe would bother him to watch a scary movie, there would be instances where he had them, but it wasn't a regular occurence. How naïve was he when he thought that he'd be able to leave those behind in his youth?

It started simple, he would be in the barren, empty streets of Nueva York. Before he would slowly watch every thing dissolve around him, glitch by glitch, pixel by pixel, unable to do anything but to just stand there, before he fell into the abyss and woke up.

The darkest part of his mind had always managed to make the scenario more horrifying, another time it was zombies, another time it was zombies again, but of only Gabriella. There was even a version where he was being chased by the other dead version of himself. He consulted many articles, read and bought a lot of books, and even tried meditating, but none of it worked so he just decided to live with it for a while. It wasn't like they happened every night, no big deal.

Though, it was a big deal to you. Which was his true fear, he didn't want you to fawn over something so trivial. He didn't want you to go out of your way to take care of him, despite how much it would fill the big, gaping hole in his heart.

So when he jolts awake from another night terror, he keeps himself as quiet as possible. He slowly looked over to the side of your bed, relieved to see that you were still in a peaceful sleep. He shifts silently and keeps his footsteps light as he makes his way over to the kitchen for some tea. The calming, minty aroma sweeped his senses, but it'd be better to work right now instead of relax.

He went back to the bedroom, setting the teacup down on the bedside before pulling out a small tablet. He winced as it opened, the brightness of it hurting his eyes even with glasses on. After lowering it, he immediately goes to rifle through his files.

That is until he felt the weight of your head on his shoulders, you looked up at him with a frown. "You're working."

"I am," Miguel spoke like he was caught with a hand in the cookie jar. As embarrassed as he was, it was too late. You should probably be going back to sleep, he remembered that you also had work early tomorrow. "I just got thirsty, go back to sleep, cariño."

A bald-faced lie, would you believe it or would you not? Your brows furrowed and your pout deepened, it made Miguel's palms sweat. Moments like these forced him to think if you really did have superpowers, there were too many instances where it seemed like you read his mind word for word.

"Why are you lying to me, Miguel?" Shock. It was his face, wasn't it? "Did you have any another nightmare? Why didn't you wake me up?"

Miguel's pride had shattered, you were too good at this. A little more and you'd be unmasking every single villain in the city. "You need to be up early, I just didn't want to ruin your beauty sleep." He closed his files and turned off his tablet, this was his fate now.

You all but groaned at his remark, kicking the bedsheets off of your body before stamping out of the bedroom. "Where are you-"

"Stay there, don't move an inch." He didn't want to incur God's wrath, so he obeys. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the pillows, his smell picked up on the scent of food being freshly cooked. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but by the lord, it smelled delicious.

Miguel was left there to wait for a while, this sort of reminded him of his younger days too, granted a lot more blissful. There were times when he was younger where Gabe had nightmares too, he'd come knocking on Miguel's door, asking if he could stay there for a while or if he could play video games with him.

To which Miguel would begrudgingly agree, but he normally tried to keep Gabe as uninterested in whatever they were doing as possible so that he could fall asleep already. This usually resulted in him falling asleep then Miguel having to sleep on the couch, but it was whatever. I mean, he only stopped doing that at the young age of 11.

So now being the one taken care of, it made Miguel feel like there was an outside force tipping the scales. After being a caretaker, one way or another, his whole life, having you step in and take him for a breather was like seeing a fish head on a lion's body.

You came back soon enough with a plate and spoon in hand, it was made clear to Miguel exactly what you were cooking. Tomato sauce with meatballs, you diced a small bit of the beef with the spoon before scooping some soup up, bringing it close to his mouth. "Ahhh,"

"I can eat on my—"

"Ahhhhh."

"For shock's sake—" he quickly took a bite, his eyes lit up as he swallowed. "It's good."

You smiled knowingly, finally allowing him to feed himself as you handed him the plate. "I know," then your expression hardened. "I'd like to talk to you about what you dreamt about, if that's okay with you." Miguel sighed, reaching over to the bedside to take a long sip of his tea.

His heart told him that it was perfectly fine for you to know about what was troubling him for so long now, but his mind, his rationale, told him to shut his trap about anything that could cause you any sort of worry or distress. When he doesn't respond to you after another moment, you lean in closer.

"Miguel, I'm always going to worry about you." You whispered, "That's just how I am, but it's because I love you. I love you so much that I can feel how much you're hurting even when you're trying to hide it from me."

"I love you too," he closed the gap to press a kiss to the crease on your forehead, you released a short breath. "I just- I don't know how to say it, I guess."

You placed a hand on his chest, "I can put the pieces together, I just want you to get this off your chest." He wished he had the ability to deny you, you're his weakness, especially when you bat your eyelashes and look at him so sweetly like you have all the love in the world to give.

He tells you as much as he can about his dream, it's all a mess. There were many parts that he wished he could just go back and erase, he didn't even want to go through with this idea in the first place. But you were so... understanding of him, it felt creepy. Not creepy, that wasn't the right word, but it was unsettling.

Being comforted by someone else always made Miguel feel like the other person had a 'holier than thou' attitude, that or he was horribly pitied to the point where he didn't want to keep opening up anymore. You carried none of those qualities, you simply nodded, listened in pure silence, but you'd chime in with some remarks every now and again. He doesn't know how he got so lucky with you.

You gave him some advice. Miguel's experiences were gut-wrenching which resulted to his night terrors, but you could share the sentiment. To some degree, at least. The advice was to just talk about it, letting that feeling build over time and dreading the next time you fall asleep would result to more casualties in the long run. And that if he had no other people to turn to, you were the first on his roster (granted he'd talk to you first anyway, but that's besides the point).

After putting away his empty plate, you joined him in bed again, it's probably still very late into the night, only three hours until you get up for work, but you didn't mind as long as you got to spend it with Miguel. However he wishes to.

The feeling of yours lips on his forehead, face nuzzled into his hair while your fingers drew shapes into his back.

The way he wrapped his arms around your hips, slotting one of his legs in between yours, and the sound of your heartbeat.

He falls into a blissful sleep, knowing you will protect him from the horrors that lurk in the shadows. For once in his life, Miguel has been taken care of and he's so glad that it's you.

[little-pondhead]

Some fic because I love your au, Fenton is gender brainrot, and little baby dan cracks me up. Full disclosure, my only familiarity with DC is DP crossover fanfic, and a Batman movie I fell asleep during. (If I had a better grasp on the characters I would totally write more :(( i love interactions) also sorry for the weird spacing. Idk why tumblr did that

~~~~~~~~

There was an empty cardboard box on the table of the Justice League’s main conference room. Taped on the top flap, next to a doodle of Fenton’s logo, was a jump drive.

Heaving a sigh, Batman plugged it in and pulled up his screen on the projector. The drive, which was named “little baby dan’s evil playtime”, contained two files; WATCH_ME_FIRST.mp4 and its-a-secreeeet.pdf. He clicked on the video file, and immediately the projector filled with a blurry close-up of Fenton’s goggles.

After a moment of fiddling with the camera, Fenton stepped back, giving a cheery wave. His lab coat and goggles were a pastel pink, which was new. “Heeeeya, Bats! Whoever else is there! If you’re watching this, you probably weren’t there when I dropped the box off, aaand it’s probably empty.”

He clapped his hands together gleefully. “And Connie, if you’re there, this is payback for cussing around my daughter.” Batman was instantly relieved that Constantine wasn’t on base. Hopefully the situation wouldn’t require Constantine’s expertise. (Or any of the Justice League Dark. Fenton seemed determined to drive them all to an early grave with his casual refusal to acknowledge the supernatural air around him.)

“Now, as you’re all heroes, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the whole,” Fenton paused for a moment, as if searching for the proper words. “”You ate a burger on a Tuesday or something equally inane, and it kickstarted a series of events that led to you going insane and evil and murdering 95% of the Earth’s population and now you must fight your evil alternate self, because your time-controlling cryptid Peepaw said so,” shtick, so I’ll skip the backstory. Say hi to Dan!” Fenton grabbed the camera, and Batman quickly jotted down several notes about the concerning number of things the boy had just said.

The camera swiveled around to show Nightingale, holding a strange beast in a manner that reminded Batman of an “elongated cat meme” Nightwing had shown him when he was still a Robin. The creature bared a maw full of razor sharp fangs at the camera. Nightingale adjusted her grip to hold the creature’s paw and make it wave, which evoked a deep growl.

“Haha, he’d kill me if I did that. Dan likes Nightingale much more than he likes me.”

“Because the worst she has ever done is attempt to shoot me.”

The camera had moved, so Batman couldn’t visually confirm that the deep voice had come from the creature, but the voice didn’t match any of Fenton’s previously revealed companions. “Yeah yeah, her aim sucked back then.” Fenton gave the camera a toothy grin that was only slightly less unnerving than the creature’s. “Dan’s not technically me, he’s much more like Dani, actually, but the world would probably end again if we left him with his other... What did you call him?” Fenton glanced offscreen.

“Bane of my accursed existence.”

Fenton chucked. “The other half responsible for his existence.” Batman added more notes to his file. “So, yeah, Clocky left him with us for a bit to help along his rehab. But a certain psychologist-in-training I know says that repressing rage isn’t healthy, and even without a lot of his powers, he can wipe out most of a city in- what, an hour? We tested it. It was around an hour.”

Everyone present shared a look of deep concern. As if able to see their reaction, Fenton quickly held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry! Clocky reset it. Approximately zero people have died from Dan in this timeline.”

“Yet.” Came a furious rumble from off-screen.

“Yes, you’re very scary.” They heard Nightingale coo.

Fenton laughed. “Yeah, we need him- and all of you, -out of our hair for a bit while we concoct more evil plans, and you’re all the least likely to die to him, so you get to babysit! Thanks!”

He reached to shut off the camera before pausing and turning away. “Foley! Which of the furries is the one who really likes animals?”

“Man, do you realize how that sounds out of context?” Foley laughed. “I think Tim said it’s the little one. Damian?”

Fenton nodded and turned back to the camera. “Don’t let Damian try to adopt Dan. Or anyone. Dan will bite their hands off. I mean it!” To emphasize his point, he removed one of his hands.

Batman sighed and added “ability to remove limbs” to a list of Fenton’s powers.

“I’ll include a list of “tasks”” Fenton’s disembodied hand made finger quotes, “we gave Dan to keep him occupied. There’s some at the bottom for you guys. They’re mostly just blatant abuse of his powers for the sake of fun and science. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him mark things off the list and add notes on how it goes. Or you can do it. Or I can steal your cameras. Your choice.”

He thought for a second. “I think you’re supposed to leave, like, pizza money or something, but I don’t think you can get pizza delivered to space. Anyway, thanks for letting me blab your ears off while Dan’s probably committing war crimes for twelve minutes. For your sake, I hope he inherited my interest in space. Good luck! Thanks for babysitting!”

Waving with his still detached hand, Fenton ended the video. Batman closed it and opened the PDF as the few other members present murmured amongst themselves. Most of the pages were filled with a curling script Batman didn’t recognize. The fourth page had a huge, bolded header, reading JP TASKS.

The door opened and shut in half a second as the Flash burst in. “Superman!” The speedster wailed. “I can’t get this thing off of me!”

The Flash waved his arm around, sending small droplets of blood flying as he tried to dislodge the creature sinking his teeth into the speedster’s arm. Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his cowl as Superman quickly lent his super strength in attempt to pry the creature’s jaw open. Dan didn’t budge.

Well, he could certainly see the family resemblance been Fenton, Dani, and Dan. Shaking his head, he turned back to the list.

Task 1: Find Dan. He’s probably attacking someone.

He highlighted the text and crossed it out. This was going to be a long shift.

[Anon, this is me crying over the wonderful gift you have given me. You bastard.]

---

"Do you think Fenton's regeneration powers extend to his..." Green Lantern frowned, trying to remember the word the kid had used but coming up blank. "I dunno. But do you think if we cut off little Dan here, he'll heal back up with no problem?" He gestured helplessly to the scene in front of him. Flash was still screeching about the beast on his arm, and now Superman and Wonder Woman were trying to pry him off. Batman was standing to the side, silently bemoaning the lack of quiet. He just wanted one peaceful shift. Just one. Please.

"I'd like to see you try, hero. And I'm not little." Dan spoke, startling all of them. His grip on Flash's arm tightened, making the speedster squeal before releasing the man and spitting out a mouthful of his blood. Batman noticed that his mouth didn't move despite the clearly spoken words. In fact, when Dan closed his mouth, it was like he didn't have one at all.

"So you do speak!" Superman marveled.

"Of course I do. I am not unintelligent, unlike you lot."

Despite his pain, Flash still made sounds of protest that everyone promptly ignored.

Superman flushed. "I just wasn't sure. It was hard to tell in the video."

"Ah, yes. The video that the Fenton menace sent you. Was there a note for me in the flash drive?"

"Uh, no." In one of his less finer moments, Green Lantern stuttered over his words and moved in front of Batman, obviously lying. Dan merely growled and flew through both men, heading straight for the giant monitor. Batman barely suppressed a shiver. Density shifting? Might as well add it to the list. He could see Martian Manhunter, who was in the back of the room, tilt his head at the display.

Dan ignored the room as he used his entire body to manipulate the computer mouse and scrolled back up to the top of the page. Staring intently at the scribbles no one could make out, the heroes could do nothing but shoot each other nervous and confused glances. More than a few of them jumped when Dan chuckled deeply. Honestly, his tiny body was at complete odds with his baritone voice.

"Maybe rehab will be fun if he's letting me do this." Dan sneered, flashing their reflections a sharp fang. No one wanted to ask what exactly he was in rehab for. The little beast turned his gaze to Batman. "You are the one called Batman, who rules the cursed city, correct?" The dark hero nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. "Excellent. You will be my chaperone for now, just as Fenton decreed it. Good luck, mortal man. Pray, I do not destroy your home a second time."

Without any time to unpack that conversation, Dan promptly disappeared from view. Some blinking text caught his attention, and Batman scrolled back down to the English text, glancing at the next few items on the list.

Task 2: Do not let Dan read his portion of this letter until you have a way to track him. There is no containing him.

Task 3: Keep him with a chaperone at all times. (If you can)

Task 4: Do not let Dan back into Gotham unless you're fine with a sudden decrease in the clown population.

Task 5: Take him for a walk in Death Valley. He likes hunting lizards.

Task 6: Make sure he goes down for his 2pm nap every day.

Task 7: He'll ask for it, but do not give him any burgers for mealtime. It upsets his stomach.

Task 8: Dan gets ONE(1) sweet after dinner before brushing his teeth. Those green pop rocks Batman always carries will do fine; he likes those. :)

A sudden alarm blared from his wristwatch, making Batman tear his eyes away from the screen, indicating an emergency at Arkham. This time, Batman actually sighed out loud. There was more to the list, but right now, he really needed to find their new charge before he killed the Joker, from the sound of it.

[toskarin]

minecraft

-

<rin> the gist of it is that when I was with my ex who just kind of brought things up to start fights, I eventually got numb to it and mentally checked out of arguing. it was always insanely mundane stuff that would get responses (eg asking if a weapon in warframe was meta and taking it personally if I said it wasn't) so I naturally concluded "ah yeah, minecraft won't do that"

<rin> but what I didn't realise is that in response to any attempt to do that in minecraft, I'd go dwarfmode and just build an incomprehensible hyperfixation labyrinth while nodding and going "mhm" every time argument bait was dropped

<rin> this base had literally 300 rooms, connected by tunnels and spires with nothing in them that I constructed in a fugue state and filled with mannequins, but then I realised I had a problem

<rin> that was really really really fucking scary

<rin> what I had ACTUALLY built was a city that could house an entire faction, to scale with some real life towns and fully furnished, in a place where ambient cave noises would play and it wasn't always clear where the next door to the surface (or an airlock into a cavern) was

<rin> and I got so creeped out conceptually by having a massive labyrinth that was made entirely of negative autistic energy, filled with mannequins that I placed seemingly only to scare myself, that I stopped going in most of it and kind of hid in one of the top floors (the one with the terracotta ballroom and the roman style bathing area)

<rin> the end result was that I started building houses inside of the house, smaller basecamps that were less creepy than the massive empty structure, along with numbered signs and routes through it that avoided "the creepy parts"

<rin> the creepy parts were like. exceptionally weird.

<rin> it wasn't even built as a base, but just vaguely attached "expansion" that usually simulated something or otherwise looked like it should have a use

<rin> for example, a series of identical plazas, connected by a central spiral staircase, all with identical underground apartment buildings that flanked all four sides, down to the furniture inside of them, all the way to bedrock

<gf> oh my god babe

<gf> i don't even know what to say. just oh my god

<rin> there were multiple restaurants, and the gimmick of them is that they were identical except for the color of the wool used on the carpet, and there were 20 of them

<friend> rin, are you like, okay

<rin> oh no I'm insane

<rin> genuinely I wish I still had the world file because like, what cool organic horror it was

<gf> yeah that sounds kind of incredible in like a really terrible way

<rin> there were distinctly the small manageable rooms where I was actually comfortable playing the game and then there was the horrifying maze of structures that made up my mental labyrinth further in or something

<rin> total aside, that's why there's the metrolith labyrinths in vesalblood. the "compacted underground urban center built on top of other urban centers" thing struck me as a cool enough concept to keep

[seaslugfanclub]

Hiya! I really like reading your Disney Villains stories. Question could you do a Halloween special and how (Y/n) help deal with the parade and any villains who get scared by some of the scary actors? Thank you <33

Thank you so much for the ask! I hope this is satisfactory, I could only really think of one villain who’s easily spooked ❤️

———————————————————————

Scaredy Villians

“Absolutely not. I refuse to participate in that hedonistic procession.”

“Frollo, it’s a parade for children.”

(Y/N) knew they were getting nowhere with the ex- judge, who was currently barricaded in his dressing room.

While most of the villians didn’t mind Halloween, some even enjoying it (the headless horseman could be seen polishing his pumpkin head around the time) there were always a few outliers.

“Y’know what? How about this, you do the parade and I’ll slip you those ‘magazines’ you like so much?” (Y/N) crooned through the door.

“How dare you try to bribe a holy man-”

“I have the exotic dancer issues~”

A beat passed,

“….fine.”

“Oh my god, thank you. Be out with the rest of the group in 15 minutes, I’ll get you those magazines after the parade.”

(Y/N) didn’t wait to hear Frollos response, instead hurrying down the hall towards the main common area.

“Alright everyone, the parades in 15! Is everyo- where’s Hook?” (Y/N) interrupted themselves, surveying the group of villians, who all began to chuckle and look towards the center of the room.

Hades, with a shit eating grin across his face points to the couch,

“He’s been under there for the past hour.”

(Y/N) groans, rubbing between their eyes as they walk past Hades, to indeed see the infamous Captain Hook halfway underneath the common areas couch. Even from where they were standing (Y/N) could see him shaking. Crouching besides the couch, (Y/N) went to see what the problem was.

“Hook, what’s wrong?”

“I- I’ll tell you what’s wrong!! I’m not going out there.”

“What? Dude, why?”

“He’s scared of spooks, that’s what!” Gaston laughed from the sidelines.

“Scared? Aw Hook, c’mon the parades only an hour long, and it’s for kids too-”

“Don’t patronize me!!” Hook shrieked

“I’m not, what I’m saying is it’ll be toned down. Disney is a far cry from other Halloween festivals, you’ll be fine.” (Y/N) pleaded, the pressure of the parade starting soon causing their voice to strain. But the pirate refused to move.

“Anyone have any ideas?” (Y/N) looked around the room, Facilier grabbing their attention.

“I could ask some of my friends to drag him out from under there, there’s enough shadows tonight for them to force him across the entire park.”

“We want him to go willingly, kids don’t wanna see a pirate passed out from fright.” (Y/N) shook their head.

“I have some Xanax in my clutch?” DeVill chimes in, already rummaging through her bag. Only to be stopped by (Y/N) pulling her hands down.

“What? No!! Your not even supposed to have Xanax!?” They huffed, turning back to the couch as Mr. Smee tried his hand at coaxing out his captain.

“I am not letting those retched cast members get the best of me in front of the entire park!” Hook growled at his first mate. But with that growl came an idea, (Y/N) beginning to jog out of the room.

“Everyone get into your positions! I’ll be right back.”

With that the villians began to file out of the room, some making snide remarks at Hook until the common area was completely empty. Hook waited a couple of minutes before sliding himself out of the couch, not noticing someone plod into the room. Hook straightened his back out, turning around to head back to his dressing room.

… only to be met face to face with a white sheet ghost.

Hook shrieked, leaping a foot in the air, furthering his panic when the ghost grabbed his arms.

“Hook- Hook! It’s ok, it’s just me.” The Ghost pulled back their sheet to reveal (Y/N)’s grinning face.

“You said you didn’t want any of the cast members scaring you, so what if I join you in the parade? I can keep anything from leaping out, and you can tell me if you get overwhelmed.” They explained, causing Hooks mustache to twitch up.

“You… you promise those ghouls won’t pop out at me?”

“Of course, I’ll keep any spooks from even looking at you! But in all seriousness we need to go join the parade, like now.” (Y/N) smiled at him.

Hook thought about for a moment before puffing up.

“If you insist my dear, all right. Lead the way.”

(Y/N) sighed in relief. Flipping down the blanket and grabbed his hook, leading him out of the common room, towards the parade.

———————————————————————

I hope you all like it! I cannot thank you all enough for liking my work ❤️ You guys are amazing.

[hurpdurpburps]

Otherside Picnic Manga Yuri Club Special Story 3 English Translation

SPOILER WARNING: Takes place immediately after the events of File 1 - Kunekune Hunting in Vol 1 of the novels.

Written by: Miyazawa Iori

Translated by: @hurpdurpburps

-

Chapter 3: Ochanomizu, The First Afterparty

"Hey… Earth to Toriko, you okay?"

I waved my hand in Toriko’s face, who was staring into space with her chin propped on her hand.

"Mnnnnnnmm… I'm okaaaaaaay…" Toriko answered fuzzily.

Her eyes were only halfway open, or perhaps just a quarter-way.

"You look like you’re gonna fall asleep though."

"No I’m nooot…"

Liar. It was obvious she'd already reached her breaking point.

As I watched her while taking small sips of beer from my glass, Toriko's eyes finally closed completely. With a droop of her head, she completely stopped moving.

Alright, that's all, folks. Toriko-san has closed up for the day. Great work today. [1]

… What the hell am I supposed to do?

On the table were three empty Tsingtao beer bottles. They were small in size, which should’ve been a reasonable amount for two drinkers, so I was surprised to see Toriko wiped out so early into the night. I’d assumed that she could hold her liquor well, judging from the way she went wild with our drink orders as soon as we were seated.

She’d applied the same heavy hand to our food orders as well. I'd thought that she could finish all of it but that wasn’t the case either. Our plates of cashew chicken (delicious), cumin lamb (spicy & delicious) and water spinach (perfect with beer) sat on the table, mostly untouched.

I don’t think this lass can eat any more…

Toriko was dozing off soundly, so the prospect of depending on her for help seemed unlikely in the near future.

I guess I don’t have a choice.

Resigned to my fate, I picked up my chopsticks and began eating the leftovers.

I wasn’t a glutton, I just simply didn’t like the idea of not clearing my plate. But I suppose it was also because I’d picked up the habit of eating whenever I was able to.

Just an hour ago, Toriko and I had entered the “Other World” [2] via an old building in Jinbocho, encountered the kunekune, fended it off somehow, then fled in a mindboggling state of excitement and fear. In order to return to the real world, we had to take the exhausting route of climbing ten floors on a ladder attached to the exterior of the skeletal building. We’d both been laughing and screaming the entire time, which in hindsight, painted a rather unhinged picture of us.

Isn’t that way too scary from an objective point of view? I think something was probably wrong with us.

After our return, Toriko had kicked up a fuss about holding an afterparty for whatever reason, so we made our way to the station and entered the first Chinese restaurant we saw.

We made a toast and… ended up in this situation before we knew it.

Toriko's chin fell from her hands, and she collapsed onto the table, burying her face in her arms. Sending pieces of shredded lamb into my mouth from the plate that I had moved away so that her beautiful golden locks wouldn't get dirty, I stared intently at the crown of her head, which was facing me.

There’s no sign of black around her roots. Seems like it's not a dye job, but her natural hair colour. Huh…

I continued eating while staring at the head of a woman I didn't know well.

As if on cue, Toriko began to stir just as I was about to finish eating.

"Are you awake?"

"Hmmm…"

"You're sleepy after all."

"I'm not sleepyyyyy…" Toriko replied, her tone foggy and with her eyes still closed.

It seemed like it would take her a while to reboot.

"I thought about leaving you behind."

"Why would you say that…"

"You were the one who said you wanted to have dinner, then you went ahead and fell asleep anyway."

"You can’t do that… Don't leave me behind…" Toriko mumbled apologetically. "It's weird… I'm usually a lot stronger than this…"

"You're kidding."

"I’m serious, usually my face doesn’t even flush when I get like this."

"It's probably the exhaustion. I heard that alcohol tolerance can vary quite a bit depending on your condition."

"Hmm…" Toriko said, rubbing her eyes with both hands. "I guess it's because I met you, Sorawo."

"… Me?"

"Hmm… I guess you make me feel at ease."

"Huh?"

I had no idea what she was talking about. It was a good thing Toriko felt at ease, but I didn't think that had anything to do with me.

Wishing for Toriko to wake up soon, I scarfed down the last of the chicken and cashew.

TL Notes

General note: I adopted a more 'literary' prose style to match the tone of the novels. Hence, the translation in this series will be significantly more liberal than my usual analytical posts. Feel free to ask me anything.

[1] This line in Japanese is "はい終了。鳥子さん閉店ー。おつかれさまでしたー。", which conveys a humourous tone by using a business/shop metaphor for Toriko.

[2] A fun fact about the OP series name is that 裏世界 (urasekai - lit. "Other World") does not translate to "Otherside" exactly. 裏世界 is the term first used by Satsuki, Kozakura and Toriko, and was only adopted later by Sorawo.

The name for the UBL that Sorawo came up with on her own was 裏側 (uragawa - lit. "Other Side"). In fact, Sorawo continued using 裏側 until her first meeting (and briefing about the UBL) with Kozakura in Chapter 3 of File 2 - Hasshaku-sama Survival.

This bonus story takes place before that, which is why Sorawo is still using 裏側 here. I essentially flipped the translations of 裏世界 and 裏側 so that it makes a little more sense contextually.

PS. While I use the term "real world" for the reality in which our characters are from, the Japanese word used in the novels is in fact 表世界 (omotesekai - lit. "surface world"). This is because 表 ("surface" or side facing up) and 裏 ("back" or other-facing side) are antonyms.

The English localisation of the novels follows this terminology ("surface world") but the wordplay gets lost in translation due to the lack of context.

List of Yuri Club's Otherside Picnic Short Stories [my translations]:

1. Shinjuku, The First Meet-Up (新宿、��めての待ち合わせ)

2. Hasshaku-sama Epilogue (八尺様エピローグ)

3. Ochanomizu, The First Afterparty (お茶の水、初めての打ち上げ)

4. Ikebukuro, Cafe Meal For One (池袋、ひとりカフェ飯)

5. Naha, After The Big Job (那覇、大仕事の後)

6. Ishigaki Island, A Dazed Vacation (石垣島、呆然のリゾート)

7. Mercedes AMG, The Backseat (メルセデスAMG、後部座席)

8. Otherworldly Elevator, On The Way Back (異世界エレベーター、帰路)

9. Kozakura Mansion, Pizza Party (小桜屋敷、ピザパーティー)

10. Ikebukuro Bookstore, Meet Up (池袋の書店、待ち合わせ)

11. Hannou, In The Car From The Station (飯能、駅からの車中)

12. TBD

[the-saltiest-saltine]

Enjoy this heartwarming fic about the importance of having reliable nondescript friends in the face of a scary situation. You and her can totally fight off a prospective attacker together, you’re sure - after all, you’ve got the power of friendship!

Yan!Chrollo x Reader

Word count: ~ 1.9k

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, implied voyeurism, implied torture

You’ve got a stalker. You know this for sure.

Wherever you go, you can feel a gaze. 

Your train rides and walks through some of the dodgier parts of the central business district after a busy day have always had their fair share of sketchy characters - it’s been a near-daily part of your life since you first came here several weeks ago - but this feeling was different. It wasn’t some junkie looking for a punch-up, no. It was specific. It was targeted.

What started as a feeling of slight watching in public, became a metaphorical spotlight in your apartment, blinding and irritating. You keep your windows shut and locked, not wanting the biting chill of the smoggy winter air to creep its way inside your residence. This doesn’t stop you from constantly coming home to find your kitchen window wound open, all these stories up. You know it’s definitely impossible for a regular man to get up here from the outside, since your front door is always locked and there’s no balcony.

You wish he’d leave you alone at the library, at least. It’s nice and relatively quaint, a much-appreciated juxtaposition from your otherwise industrial setting, and the least your stalker could afford is some privacy so you can enjoy it to its fullest.

The stare is intense, filled with neediness and darkness. You’re sure the eyes of whoever is creating it are a void, the most unusual colour of emptiness and depravity. You can’t pinpoint any particular reason why this is happening - generally, you’re pretty quiet and unassuming. You have no rich family to pay a ransom, and your organs wouldn’t be worth much. Simply put, a person like you is not worth the trouble.

Your best cure for this feeling so far has been to simply sigh, and open up your latest novel, indulging in a few chapters. The feeling subsides after a little while. Perhaps he gets bored of watching you partake in an activity so unappealing to an outside viewer. Perhaps he grabs out his own book and indulges himself, though you doubt that’s the case (-but that would be a nice thought, wouldn’t it? Imitation is, after all, the sincerest form of flattery).

Tonight, you found a card on your kitchen bench. By the looks of it, it’s not a parting message, rather the opposite. The intricate red pattern on it is almost enough to be considered romantic, but you’re hardly feeling the charm. It’s unsettling, to say the least, but you can’t even bring yourself to be scared. 

If anything, this issue annoys you now. It’s been a long, exhausting day at work. It gets uncomfortably cold if the window's left open. If someone’s going to kill you, they might as well just try already. Being stalked is so tiresome.

You don’t have enough tangible evidence to file a police report, simple sensings of a watcher not nearly enough proof to have police aid you. Funnily enough, this takes the bottom rung on the ladder of reasons why you can’t contact them. You can almost laugh at the thought of even trying. If this persists, you’ll call your friends instead.

Unfortunately, your welcome to this city has been anything but warm. 

Luckily, you’ve got one modicum of hope.

There’s a woman in your life.

She’s beautiful, inside and out. Her smiles are a breath of fresh air in this wretched city. You can’t say you’re exactly dating yet, but whatever tier below it you’ve got now is certainly better than whatever was there before. Something like gratitude, as much as you’re naturally inclined to overlook it, hits you like a truck whenever you’re together.

Unlike you, she’s not new here. She’s been a great tour guide so far, introducing you to practically every street corner, every Indian restaurant, every speck of dirt and faeces on the wrecked footpaths that the slimy Mayor neglects. It’s hard to worry about a stalker when you’re being bombarded with random questions and consumed by her laugh, echoing between the skyscrapers and into comforting mugs of hot chocolate.

The time you spend with her is precious, sacred even. You won’t let the mystery man get in the way of that.

Long before that card made its way to your residence, you did call a friend, the friend, about your problem, getting a response within two rings. You told her about your stalker, sniffling and regularly hiccupping, telling her about how you think there’s someone after you. She was practically frantic, demanding that you come over to her apartment right that instant, barking out her address without hesitation. It’s only fifteen minutes away, she assured. You got there in seven.

She flung open the door at the first knock, saying your name with relief and letting you in. You spared her most of the details as you sat on her couch, not wanting her to put herself in harm’s way. Despite your shaky insistence that you’ll be fine regardless, she gave you some pepper spray to help defend yourself, and some tips on how to hold your keys between your knuckles most effectively.

I’ll protect you if anything happens, she says, her support of you positively admirable. You know she’d try and fight him off if you were together when he strikes. 

You’re certain that your combined forces are enough to fight off a fully grown man, you declared in response - and you meant it. In fact, you added, scratch that, you’re absolutely convinced that your cumulative strength - consisting of four arms, pepper spray, and her high-pitched scream - is enough to fight off a bodybuilder pumped full of anything and everything you can get in the alleys behind the city’s numerous smoke shops. She laughed at that, but you know she still worries for you.

You can come with me anywhere if you’re uncomfortable, she said. Really, if you’re worried, just call me up. I can leave work early if you think you’re in danger, honestly. My manager is flexible enough.

Appreciation swirls around you in waves again. Naturally, you have your scepticism. It’s almost too generous, too forward, something you’re certainly not accustomed to. But alas, you’ll firmly grip whatever opportunities present themselves. She offers you what she can, and you don’t hold yourself back from accepting it with open arms.

You’ve accompanied her to the bar, to the library, to her favourite café. It’s pleasant. It’s peaceful. You’re still being watched for certain, but the ability to have a brief moment of levity whilst in her presence, something to help you forget about work and responsibilities and stalkers, is something to be treasured.

She’s so calming, so sweet, so caring…

And so, so oblivious.

You’ve accompanied her to the bar, to the library, to her favourite café. However, if you were to ask, she’d say with the utmost conviction that you were never there (and that she’d love to show you). You’ve accompanied her on her commute home, made cups of tea in her kitchen, folded dog ears in the untouched novels on her bookshelf, hoping she’ll note the romantic scenes and lines you’ve kindly bookmarked for her. 

She’s promised to protect you. She never questioned why your little whimpers died down so suddenly after she gave you her address. She never questioned how you got there so fast. If she’d been wary enough to use the location services on her phone, she would’ve been able to see that seven minutes was actually a while to arrive, considering you were a twenty-metre walk down the hallway when you’d called.

She simply ate up your little performance over the phone, and in her apartment. And, soon enough, she’ll be coming to yours. 

Yesterday, she told you about the new exhibit at the city’s museum - she went to get a glimpse of it the other day, and it looks promising.

You went to get a glimpse of it too, twenty metres behind her.

The day before, she told you about how she ordered a new drink at a café- it was absolutely to die for, and oh, by the way, did you know that café is her favourite in the city?

You inferred that much from her frequent visits there, following her routine so effortlessly that it became your own. You tried the drink out too, taking sips in time with hers, admiring her profile as she scrolled through her phone. She was so pleased to finally have an afternoon to herself, after a week of hectic shifts.

Something unfamiliar stokes inside of you as you make your observations. Perhaps it’s comparable to a parent seeing their child grow and develop, or a botanist seeing rare flowers bloom, or an astronomer observing the most uncommon and exquisite of meteorological events. It’s something like happiness, something like attachment, something like wonder, something like pride.

On the other hand, you must admit, you’re a little disappointed. She lied to you.

She didn’t tell you about the man she slept with from the bar last week. Technically, you never asked about it, considering that you weren’t supposed to be there, but you’re a man who considers lying by omission to be on an equal plane as wholehearted deception. She promised to never lie to you, but now she has. What should she have to do to earn your forgiveness?

Although, perhaps this encounter was no matter, the sounds she made being enough fuel for your frantic stroking outside her bedroom door, her whines teaching you what to do when you would be in the stranger’s place, a point in time that won’t be too far from now. For the sake of equality, though, you’ll let this one slide. After all, you didn’t tell her about the man’s fate after that night, about your other friend who’d assisted you, about the teeth scattered on the cold basement floor, about the strips of flesh that hung from his back and how you’d apathetically tugged on them.

She’s a very good source of information for you. Truly, you hadn’t expected to spend so long in this city, nor had you expected for the museum to open up again so quickly since your heist two months ago only a few towns over, locked down for precaution (a laughable concept, really). Without her, you wouldn’t have anyone to debate the validity of the Old Testament, the extent that Raskolnikov can be justified, or theories on what happens after death. Also, without her, you wouldn’t have found out about the museum’s new exhibit of Goya paintings so soon, teasingly left out in the open, ripe for the plucking mere minutes away from your penthouse. It’s a temptation you’ve never bothered resisting.

Despite being a Nen user, whoever’s stalking you doesn’t care to hide himself properly. His perfect Zetsu is rendered useless from his other behaviours. You can hear his footsteps outside of the window, see his shadow in your periphery, hear his heavy breathing and salacious groans as he watches you.

If you were more dramatic, you’d roll your eyes. With Skill Hunter available on command, you have no doubt that this fool would lose to you in a fight. You’ve been observing his patterns, feeling his aura, preparing yourself for the inevitable.

You’ve been doing the same for your friend, however loosely you may use the term.

Whatever the man following you wants, you’ll take from him tenfold. You pick up the playing card from the bench, a queen of hearts, and regard it between your fingers.

You’ve got a stalker. She’s got a stalker too. But, unlike you, she won’t have the means to counter his next move.

[fahbev]

Unstoppable Force meets Immovable Object

(That title kinda sucks and is subject to change) If you saw my last post, you can skip ahead. It’ll be pretty obvious where the new stuff starts.

If you aren’t familiar with the “humans are space orcs” genre, I highly recommend searching up #humans are space orcs. I wanted to focus on the implications of being a “space orc”, and the kind of complex it would give someone long term. I also wanted to explore how it would affect different characters differently; so here I present two case studies;

A hippo and a moose walk into a bar. Metaphorically.

The human Sofia sits at the bar. The seats within six feet of her are all empty. She guzzles her fifth citrus drink - apparently most species are affected by it similarly to alcohol, and some weaker species would be dead by the fifth drink. Sofia remains unaffected. She could drink 30 and be unaffected. All her drinks combined are about half as potent as an orange slice. It doesn’t even taste good. She slams her empty goblet on the table, all for show. The conversations nearby hush even further, and the fearful whispers start up again. Good. She should be feared.

The door opens. In comes a gust of wind, and a hulking figure. No one in the bar is talking now.

Sofia slowly turns to face the door. She sizes up the newcomer. They’re big, not twice Sofia’s height, but a few feet shy. Not that it matters, when she’s wrestled creatures the size of bears before. The armor plating though, it sported a recognizable pattern. The forelimbs too, that were an odd combination of insectoid legs and tentacles, were a dead giveaway. This was a rragletatch. One of the most feared species in the multiverse, from one of the deadliest worlds known to the galactic community. They’re as rare as humans too. She smirks. Finally, a worthy opponent.

Some chatter starts up again as the rragletatch begins to walk up to the bar, pretending to ignore Sofia. It was still eerily quite, considering this was a bar, and people were drunk. A few gasps and screams echo when Sofia abruptly stands up, knocking over her stool. Her smirk widens into a grin. She stalks confidently up to the rragletatch stranger, and stands close enough that they can’t ignore her. Several people began filing out of the building, while others chose to stay. “So.” The alien greets her.

“You’re one of those infamous rragletatchen I hear of, no? The ones who are supposedly suuuuper scary?”

“Yes, I am rragletatchen. You’re human, right?”

“Damn right.”

“well then.”

A long pause. Practically the whole bar was listening in anticipation.

“Fight me.” Sofia’s expression didn’t waver. On Earth, she never could have looked so intimidating while staring so far up at someone.

“No.” what? “Oh? You scared? I thought you were supposed to be tough or something.” The stranger didn’t look scared, but they must be. Why else would they not want to fight?

“I’m not scared.”

“Then square up bitch. See who’s stronger. Finally put it to the test.”

“No.”

The whispers now were not of fear, but of confusion.

“I will not engage in needless violence,” the rragletatch continued, “contrary to the stereotype of my kind, I will not harm others if at all avoidable. Attack me if you will, I refuse to fight you.” The rragletatch stood still in a wide, but open stance, as if preparing to be hit. Sofia felt a flash of guilt. Something about attacking an opponent who refused to fight back felt wrong.

“You don’t want to see? Find out who the real champion is?” Sofia pushed aside her feelings and stared up. Unafraid, taunting as ever.

“No. My parents, grand parents and great grandparents before me have embraced a sacred philosophy of pacifism. It saddens me that my kind is known only for cuttthroat violence, only because of our home and biology. I refuse to hurt you. Do you truly wish to hurt me?”

Sofia was a bit shocked to say the least. When she realized her jaw was open and her head cocked, she quickly schooled her expression. That question though... she thought she did. But usually she just liked to brawl. Scare people. Assert dominance. When faced with an unwilling opponent who would not be scared of her... she realized she did not wish to cause harm. She never liked hurting people, that was never the fun of it.

“No.” Sofia sighed. She slouched from her offensive stance and backed over to her seat. “Come, sit with me.” It was phrased like a command, but really it was an offer. Everyone knew Sofia would have a hard time forcing this stranger to do anything. The rragletatch followed reluctantly. Sofia picked up her stool and plopped herself haphazardly on it. The stranger sat more eloquently on one of the many seats next to her.

“I’m Sofia.”

“Yal-sre.”

People moved their seats even farther from the Death-Worlders, or as some call them, orcs. Suddenly, Yal-sre relaxed their whole body.

“Wow.” Yal-sre almost whispered

“What?” Yal-sre made a sound that, in aliens with exoskeletons, tended to equate to a soft laugh.

“To be completely honest, I thought you were going to kill me.”

Sofia barked a laugh.

“hey! I’ve never met a human before! I didn’t want to judge based on reputation due to my own, but you came on pretty aggressively!”

“Yeah, I’m the apex predator ‘round these parts, and I plan to keep it that way. Still though, I ain’t gonna fight you if you don’t wanna.”

“That’s a relief.”

Neither knew what to say next, and suddenly the nearby silence was so loud. Fortunately, a few conversations began to pick back up now that they were talking peacefully.

“What’s your planet like?” Sofia asked.

“My planet, Challrk, is beautiful. It has vast plains of purple vshink, glowing with bioluminescent insects. Sure, they bite. Sure, I’ve been stung, bitten, chased and harassed by many a critter, but Challrk is a truly incredible place. It has high mountains that stretch beyond the atmosphere, and colors some planets can’t imagine. Our sky is orange and pink, if you can believe that. What’s Earth like?”

“Earth. It’s a rough and tumble place, you can’t survive there without being Hardy. I’ve been chased by swarms of wasps and stung repeatedly more than once. I stepped on a bee and couldn’t walk properly for days. I’ve been stung by jellyfish, and went back into the bay knowing they were there with no protection. Unafraid. Earth is rough, our fauna is often hostile and transmits thousands of deadly ailments, much of our flora is poison. Our weather conditions alone could wipe out an entire species instantly. Earth is extreme.”

“i’m sure that’s true, but that’s what you’ve been told. By people who have never been there. People who are scared because they couldn’t survive there. But what is it actually like? What do you remember?”

“I- I remember the heavy storms. I remember punching a goose and having to go to the hospital. I remember- I remember the blue skies. Fluffy white clouds, flocks of songbirds. I remember walking barefoot because I loved the green grass under my feet, not because I was trying to face danger. I remember a loving family, playing with friends. Warmth and love. I remember going in the bay because I loved the feeling of swimming and playing in the water, not because I wanted to be tougher than the jellyfish. Earth is- Earth is a BEAUTIFUL place and it makes me ANGRY” Sofia slammed both her fists on the table, “that all it’s known for is being dangerous.” A few satisfying screams and gasps rang off in response. Sofia looked over at Yal-sre. When they didn’t say anything, “I can’t read your face or body language. Can you give me a description?” This was actually a normal question to ask, in places where species were mixed.

“Uh, understanding, I’ve been there. Pleased that we’re getting somewhere. Uhhhhh, still kinda scared of you though. Sorry,” Yal-sre answered. Sofia gaped for a second, before she gave another rough laugh, knowing she probably sounded unhinged to the alien. “Ah!” Yal-sre yelped, “What- what are yours?” Sofia laughed harder. “laugher can mean many things, in most cases it means ‘amused’. Right now, I am laughing at you, meaning I’m being rude because I find your fear amusing. If there was any non-human who wouldn’t be scared of me, I thought it would be the damn rragletatch. You guys are supposed to be tough shit, but you’re pathetic.”

Yal-sre paused. “Well, yeah. Some of us are tougher than others.”

“Hm, yeah I guess it’s kinda the same with humans. That makes sense. Obviously if you put a fearless human who’s tougher shit than most together with the most timid rragletatch, of course you’d be scared.”

“I’m not the most timid! I’m normal! I’ll bet most humans would be scared of me too, after hearing how “dangerous” we are for so long.”

“Maybe. Humans are tough, but I’ll admit they’re not all like me.” Yal-sre did an odd motion with their... shoulder?

“Translation? I don’t speak shoulder,” Sofia attempted to mimic the motion.

“Understanding, but now amused. Anyway, does it bother you?”

“Does what?” “The fact that everyone is afraid of you? ... even me?”

“I like being feared.”

“Do you?” Sofia took a long sip of her drink - which probably made it look like she was drowning her sorrows - to avoid answering the question. When she was done, she placed the goblet face down on the bar to signal to the bartender that she was ready for a refill. The metal was dented... she had put it down too forcefully.

“Oops.” Though it had been an accident, her voice held no remorse.

NEW STUFF STARTS HERE!

“And yes. I do like being feared.”

“If you say so. I can’t speak to human psychology. Say, did you drink that entire thing?”

“Yup. I had four others too.” “Really? You don’t seem drunk at all.”

“It’s just citrus. Doesn’t affect me. Back home we give much more concentrated juice to our young children, it tastes way better too.”

“Oh, I get it. On Challrk we give concentrated fentanyl to our kids.” Sofia gave Yal-sre a look, even knowing it might not translate across body languages. Yal-sre seemed to get it though; “Yeah, yeah, I know. But it doesn’t affect us! It’s the same as your citrus drinks, fentanyl occurs naturally in the blood of prey animals, and their blood is very nutritious and tasty to young rragletatchen.”

“yeah, that makes enough sense.” Sofia drummed her fingers on the table, “Isn’t it weird? All aliens have biology differences, nothing seems crazy anymore because everyone is so crazy to each other. But when it’s us, suddenly it’s just more proof of how hardened and tough we are. Being immune to citrus or fentanyl doesn’t make us any scarier. Not really.”

“It’s because our planets are no-fly zones. And- I guess there’s a bunch of reasons. Just because we can be dangerous doesn’t mean we’re aggressive though.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“Okay- actually, in a minute I will, but first- I can tell that you want to seem tough. I’m sure you’re plenty tough to back it up, but I just want to assure you that you don’t have to pretend. People will think you’re tough and scary no matter what you do. For better or worse.”  “Body language: unimpressed.”

“Okay I’ll- I’ll stop now. ‘Speak for myself’, as you said.”

“You’d better.”

A small, shy noise from behind the counter. Both “space orcs” turned to look. The bartender’s ears were flattened.

“Excuse me, Mx. is that another refill?” The bartender cautiously reached out to flip Sofia’s goblet back over.

 “... get me a kids’ drink this time, surprise me. This shit tastes like garbage anyway.”

The bartender looked surprised. Sophia was surprised herself, that she was able to read them.

“Right away Mx. And for you... oh- I-” the bartender took two steps back upon recognizing Yal-sre.  “Right, I forgot why I was here. It definitely wasn’t for a drink.” Yal-sre stood up, seeming much more intimidating than when Sophia had approached them.

“Oh.” The bartender backed away farther, making themself smaller as well, “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Actually, Aolli, I think there is. If you come with me out back, there are some answers I’d like to order.”

The bartender - scratch that - Aolli gulped, and dipped their head. Sophia was again impressed by the very Earthly body language. “Coming right up, Sir.”

Pt 2: https://www.tumblr.com/bahfev/715216491195269120/unstoppable-force-meets-immovable-object-pt2?source=share

[laundryandtaxesworld]

There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you

wc: 2.7k | buck & everyone | extremely light swearing, self loathing, sickness | title from you've got a friend in me by Randy Newman | please don't repost :) | ao3 link

—

Viral encephalitis. 

Huh. 

Buck’s heard of encephalitis, (mostly from watching Hannibal, but that’s not here nor there.) 

It’s just he’s never seen someone have a case so close to him. 

It was scary. He’s glad that Chimney is okay and resting at home after his discharge, but he can’t shake the feeling of what if.

He shook his head going down the what if path would do no help. Chimney was alive. That was the most important thing. Maddie was finally married and Jee Yun had her father back. 

Plates clattered as Bobby set down steaming Mac N’ Cheese. It has been four months since Chimney got sick and a week since he got back from his honeymoon. 

“So how was the honeymoon?” asked Bobby once everyone settled into dinner. 

“It was nice, quiet. Exactly what I wanted when I said no bachelor party.” Chimney looked at Buck who ducked his head. 

“That’s nice, at least it’s not a capsized cruise ship.” Bobby joked. Just then the alarm went off. Everyone shoveled food into their mouths before they ran to grab their turnout gear and hop into the truck.

The patient was sneezing when Buck carried them out of the fire. Since Chimney everyone’s been more wary of strange people sneezing on them, but with the smoke it wasn’t much of a surprise for Buck. 

By the time shift had ended and the exhaustion that he felt after fighting multiple house fires in one neighborhood, he flopped into his bed. 

Three days later he awoke with a blinding headache. He groaned. He seriously had to get the flu now?! His limbs felt heavy and he rolled over his head burrowing deeper into his pillow. 

“Siri,” croaked Buck, “Text Bobby.” 

“What would you like the message to say?” 

“Sick, flu. Out of work.” 

“The message says ‘Sick, flu. Out of work.’ Would you like to send the message?” 

“Yes.” 

“Message Sent.” Buck grumbled and pulled the covers up over his head. He could ride out the flu and then everything would be back to normal.

Bobby’s phone pinged as he got into the fire station. He unlocked his phone and looked at the message. 

Buck: Sick, flu. Out of work. 

He typed back. 

Bobby: Thanks for the heads up. Get rest and drink lots of water. 

 Bobby climbed the stairs and walked into his office. He dropped his go-bag on one of the chairs and went to call in a firefighter to cover Buck’s shift. 

Soon the rest of the A-shift plus Dawson (Buck’s cover) filed in and got ready for the shift ahead. Eddie kept looking around even though he knew Buck was out sick. 

“Eddie, stop pouting. You’ll see him in a few days.” 

“Few days is too many.” grumbled Eddie. Hen chuckled fondly, but stayed silent. The siren blared as they finished breakfast. 

“Evan,” someone whispered, “wake up. Evan wake up!” Buck’s eye snapped open. His eyes frantically searched for the voice, but they just landed on his empty apartment. 

“Hello?” He called out. “Who's there?” Buck struggled as he sat up in bed. 

“Evan.” Buck’s head whirled around. Margret Buckley was looking back at him. 

“Mo-Mom what are you doing here?” 

“Evan, oh Evan. Thank you. Thank you!” Margret cried as she quickly walked towards Buck. Buck sat there stunned as Margret softly held his face in her hands, looking at him with love. 

“For what?” he asked softly. 

“Daniel.You saved him, just like you were made for.” Buck looked back at Margret. Gone were the eyes of love, he briefly saw. They were replaced with the eyes he grew up with. Cold and uncaring. 

“Just like I was made for.” whispered Buck. Margret’s hands suddenly disappeared and Buck was left alone in his cold bedroom, his heart breaking once again. 

Buck’s eyes cracked open, his head continuing to pound and a layer of sweat up and down his whole body. His throat parched as he yet to drink water. 

“Buck, why are you still in bed?” Buck turned his head to see Maddie standing in his doorway. 

“m’ sick,”  Buck replied. 

“Well that never stopped you before, did it?” Maddie asked, more angry than he’s heard her before. 

“What?” His body protested as he shifted to get into a somewhat upright position. She walked around to the foot of his bed and his body followed. 

“It’s never stopped you before, Evan. Why is it stopping you now?” 

“What am I supposed to be doing?” Buck tried to rack his muddled brain to see what he was forgetting. 

“Work.” Maddie said almost venomously. 

“Work,” Buck paused, “But I'm sick.” Maddie looked at him. Really looked at him. Her eyes raked over his pathetic sweating hunched form. 

“They’ll replace you, you know. You’re out sick once, they get a cover… they like the cover more,” Maddie trailed off. 

“No, no they won’t. I’m sick. I have a reason to be out.” 

“But they will,” Maddie harshly whispered in his ear.” Buck jumped back, fumbling in bed wondering how fast Maddie was to get right next to him.

“No, no no no.” Buck tucked his head into his hands to try and stave off the pulse that was building between his eyes. Buck took a deep breath. When he looked up again Maddie was gone. Did he fall asleep? What’s going on? He layed back down in his bed and looked outside. Night. Did he waste away in bed all day? He needed to call Eddie. 

After their monster of a shift Eddie dragged his feet as he opened his door. Video game sounds floated to his ears as he heard Chris talking to his friends on the headset. 

“Chris, I’m home!” He got a hum  of acknowledgment from Chris who went right back to playing his game. He sighed as he took off his boots and padded into the house. 

He shucked off his clothes as he turned on the shower. His muscles relaxed as the warm water turned brown with all soot still on him. He finally took a deep breath, it felt like the first one he took all day. Buck has yet to call him, but that was warranted as he probably was asleep trying to get over the flu. 

Eddie pulled out leftovers as he had no energy to even try and cook tonight. In just a few minutes, day old pasta was plated along with a salad and bread. 

“Chris, dinner!” Eddie put the plates on the table as Chris pulled out his chair. Eddie came back with water and placed it on the table. Chris grabbed his fork and started eating.

“How was school?” Eddie asked as he took a sip of water. 

“It was fine. I have a science project about the solar system coming up.” 

“That’s cool. Is it the whole solar system?” 

“Yeah we just have to make a model. How was work?” Eddie finished chewing his salad before responding. 

“It was okay. Some house fires here and there and it was hard with Buck being sick.” 

“What’s he sick with?” 

“He said the flu, so he should be okay to come over on Friday. Chris hummed as they sat in comfortable silence.

 Buck’s eyes snapped open and wearily looked at the clock. 2:30 AM. His muscles felt extremely painful as he tried to move them under his sweat soaked sheets. Maybe he had a fever. He should find out. Slowly and painfully he got into a sitting position. His stomach protested the sudden change in orientation. 

“Buckaroo, I don’t think you should be up right now. You’re sick.” Buck looked around his dark room to see where Athena was. 

“Athena? What are you doing here?” His eyes scanned over the dresser and window. 

“I’m here to see you.” 

“Why?” Buck croaked. 

“Because, I needed to make sure you were okay.” A soft hand stroked his hair. Buck hummed. 

“I’m okay. Just the flu.” 

“Buck?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why didn’t you save him?” Athena’s voice went cold. No longer the welcoming presence that he felt seconds before. 

“Wh-who?” Buck cracked his eyes open. Athena was sitting at the foot of his bed, looking just a bit blurry. 

“My husband. Why is he in the ground and you're still here? 

“Bo-Bobby’s dead?” Buck’s brain was rebooting with the new information, scrambling to remember what he forgot.

“Yes, he’s dead because you couldn’t save him. All the showing off and running into danger and you couldn’t do the one thing you were made for.” Athena sneered. 

“I’m sorry, ” Buck whispered, “I’ll be better.” 

“Sorry won’t fix this Buck. Nothing will fix this.” Tears leaked out of Buck’s eyes as he realized he was the reason why Bobby was dead. The captain he thought of as a father was dead, because of him. He couldn’t save Daniel and he couldn’t save Bobby.

“Athena I-“ Buck started before he realized he was once again alone and sunlight was seeping through the windows. When did the sun rise? 

Bobby hummed as he flipped the pancakes he was going to surprise Athena with this morning. He slipped the pancakes onto a plate the moment Athena walked out of their bedroom. 

“Smells wonderful.” Athena hummed as she kissed Bobby on his cheek and went to wash her hands.

“Just for you.” They ate in comfortable silence.

“Any plans for today?” 

“Probably clean up around here and text Buck to see how he's faring with the flu.” 

“Hmm, flu season. You should drop off some chicken noodle  soup. You know how that boy is when he’s sick.” Bobby chuckled. 

“Yeah, yeah I do. Hopefully he’s at least drunk water,” Bobby paused thinking, “yeah I should make some chicken noodle  soup for him. Athena kisses Bobby goodbye. Bobby got to work on chicken noodle soup for his pseudo son. 

“Evan. It’s time to get up.” Buck rolled over and chased the voice of someone that was lost in his memory. 

“Hmm?” 

“Evan, it’s time to get up.” Buck opened his bleary eyes. Sleep still clinging to his brain. Rough hands traced his cheek and stroked his hair. 

“Evan, it’s time to get up.” Buck blinked to get a clear picture of who was with him, when he saw the short and slowly graying hair of his brother, Daniel. 

“Hey Ev, you with me?” Daniel asked, stroking Buck’s curls softly. 

“Yeah, yeah I'm with you.” 

“Good, I was wondering when you were going to wake up.” 

“I’m up.” Buck made movements to sit up but was slowly pushed back down by Daniel. 

“No need to sit up. I don’t want to make you injured further. ” Injured? When did he get injured? 

“S’okay. I feel fine.” Daniel just smiled at him, withdrawing his hands and Buck missed the repetitive movements. Daniel looked away from Buck. Daniel’s smile dropped as he looked out the window, the LA skyline being overshadowed by the blaring sun. 

“Evan,” Daniel’s tone was serious, “I think it’s time you get up.” 

“I am up,” Buck said softly. 

“Yeah, I know Ev,” Daniel looked back at Buck with a sad smile, “but you do really need to get up now.” 

“Dan-“ Daniel stood up suddenly and walked towards the head of the bed. 

“You need to wake up Evan!” Daniel cried, “Please, you need to wake up.” 

Bobby hummed as he grabbed the tupperware bowls out of his car. He quickly locked his car and sped up to Buck’s apartment. When faced with Buck’s door, he knocked. He waited. He knocked again and waited. Third time around, he was struggling to grab his key ring out of his coat pocket. 

Bobby pushed open the door and walked into the quiet apartment. 

“Buck?” Bobby called out. Bobby set down the soup on top of the island kitchen and glanced around to see if he could see the younger man. Not seeing the 6’2 figure downstairs,  he started up the stairs towards the loft. 

“Buck?” he called out once again. At the top of the stairs Bobby’s eyes shifted towards the bed. There he was. Buck was tangled up in his bedsheets. Bobby softly smiled and moved to wake him up so he could at least eat something. The closer Bobby got to Buck’s sleeping figure, the more worried he got. Sweat soaked Buck’s night clothes and sheets under him and his face was flushed red. 

“Dan-“ Buck called out before scrunching his eyebrows. 

“Buck? Are you with me?” Bobby asked. He walked up next to the man and pressed his hand to Buck’s forward. It was burning up. 

“Buck! You need to wake up for me!!” Bobby grabbed the younger man’s shoulders and shook but Buck made no movement of waking up. Bobby hastily grabbed his phone as he dialed 9-1-1 and ran for the bathroom as the phone rung. 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” Bobby shoved the thermometer he found into Buck’s mouth. 

“I’m at my friend's apartment and he’s burning up with a fever!” Beep. Beep. 106 degrees fahrenheit. Shit. 

“What’s the temperature?” asked the dispatcher. 

“106! Hurry, I don’t know how long he’s been like this!” 

“What’s the address sir?” 

“405 Rose Drive. It’s apartment 4B.” 

“An ambulance is on its way, try and get a cloth with cold water to try and cool the body down.” With that Bobby was the only one on the line. Bobby ran to the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth and ran it under cold tap water. He wrung it out and ran back to Buck. He pressed it to Buck’s forehead and Buck grumbled in his comfort. 

“I know, I know. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” Bobby whispered assurances more to himself than to Buck. Soon after Bobby heard multiple footsteps downstairs. It was all a blur for Bobby. It was the 133 that had responded, he recognized the paramedics. One of them  triaged Buck as the other prepared to get him to the ambulance. They swiftly got out and into the ambulance. 

“Are you riding with him to the hospital?” 

“Yes.” Bobby whispered. How many times would he have to see Buck in pain? He always hated it. 

As Buck was wheeled back, Bobby got to updating and calling everyone. Thirty minutes later Maddie, Chimney and Eddie came flying through the hospital doors with Athena and Hen  just behind them. 

“How is he? Has the doctor said anything?” Maddie asked frantically. 

“No, nothing yet. Probably should make yourself comfortable. We might be here awhile.” Everyone nodded and shifted into seats. They knew this hospital too damn well and Bobby hated it. Before Buck they never went past the glass doors. Now they spend too much time past the glass doors. 

A doctor with a clipboard walked into the waiting room and everyone was on high alert. 

“Family of Evan Buckley?” Maddie shot up. 

“Yes, I’m his sister.” 

“Would you like to come back and talk with me?” 

“No, they’re also family,” she said gesturing toward the 118, “whatever you have to say you can say it infront of them.”

“Okay then,” the doctor glanced at the chart, “your brother has viral encephalitis. It’s a pretty bad case of it and we’re lucky he was treated when he was or if could’ve been much worse. He’s awake, so you can see him. He’s in room 312 and the nurse will come in later to talk about a recovery plan.” With that the doctor escorted them to Buck’s room and left. Maddie looked in the room and saw Buck’s eyes blink open. 

“Hey Mads,” Buck said softly as his eyes landed on his sister. Maddie rushed forward and hugged him as hard as she could without aggravating his IV of antibiotics. 

“Flu my ass, don't ever do that to me again.” Buck chuckled and hugged back. 

“I’ll try Mads.” 

“I love you Ev. I love you so much.” 

“I love you too Mads.” 

“I’m glad you're okay, Buck.” 

“Thanks to you Bobby. Why were you at my apartment anyway?” 

“Dropping off some chicken noodle soup. Which now needs to be thrown away because you're not getting food poisoning on top of this.” 

“I love that chicken noodle soup. It really is  life saving.” 

“Whatever you say, Buck. I’m just glad you're with us.” Buck yawned and Bobby took that as his sign to let Buck rest. Bobby stepped out of the room and thanked god that he decided to make that chicken soup.