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talesofesther · 7 months

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what once was mine | ch 1

Loki x Reader

Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: A long overdue mini-series for one of my favorite characters of all time. I had this idea when season one of Loki first came out, but never got to writing it, and now with season two coming, I decided to finally do it. There are two important things that need to be said before we head into it though; firstly and most importantly, I will not be following the show's plot at all, this story will only be focusing on the relationship between Loki and the reader, after all that's what it is about and I don't want it to be unnecessarily huge; secondly, this story will be mostly told in moments, which means that not every single scene happening between the characters will be written down in length. Lastly, I do hope you can all enjoy it. <3

Masterlist

Things felt worthless. Everything suddenly seemed unimportant. His whole life, everything he knew, felt small and frail. Because here, infinity stones were mere paperweights.

Loki scoffed as he pushed himself up from the floor, one hand coming up to tug at the collar still wrapped around his neck. This place made him feel as if his brain was melting, it was all too much, too sudden—sacred timeline, variants. A sense of utter helplessness started to weigh heavily in the pit of his stomach.

Yet he couldn't hold himself back from sitting at the single table in the middle of the dim-lit room. The checkered image of the Avengers right in front of him seemed to be taunting him.

This was still the same day, right?

Or maybe not, Loki wasn't certain anymore; it sure didn't feel like the same day.

For a split second, as he looked down at the red, round device resting on top of the table, he thought about how everything here looked so old-fashioned. It was almost ironic, for a place out of time.

Loki couldn't help himself. His curiosity got the best of him eventually. But if anyone had their whole life just a click away, they'd probably do the same.

So he watched, through glimpses passing on a screen, a life that was supposed to be his. He watched his mother die, and then his father; he watched as Thor called him a brother with a smile on his face again, and as they made earth a new home for Asgard. Loki's eyes were already a pool of tears as soon as his mother's lifeless body had appeared in front of him, they cascaded down his cheeks freely, leaving behind a damp path of a lifetime worth of mourning, now seen in less than a minute. The loss somehow felt greater, because now he wouldn't even have those moments to begin with.

But suddenly, amidst the moments of suffering and mistakes, an unfamiliar face appeared. She had a smile on her face most of the time, and even through the static of the image in front of him, Loki could clearly see the glint in her pupils, the crinkle beside her eyes. She was quite captivating, maybe that's why it took him a second to realize she was smiling at him.

A frown etched itself in Loki's eyebrows, he leaned forward on his chair as he pressed play again. Curiosity and... apprehension twirled wildly inside his stomach.

The moments with her were endless. Walks on the beach, shared ice creams, quiet nights watching a movie, dancing together in a dark kitchen, the golden rays of a sunset shining against her hair in a memory tucked away like a treasure; and even a moment of her talking with Tony Stark and the others, while her hand held tightly onto Loki's, the other Loki, that is. All of them looked futile, a simple existence Loki would never have considered fit for him; so why did these moments feel important?

Inside TVA's lonely room, Loki held his breath until his lungs ached. His heart was threatening to jump out of his chest and his eyes were stinging for a whole new reason. He could feel the shaking of his own hands. That look in her eyes, it was one of love, anyone who saw would know it. But the cause of the sudden lump in Loki's throat was the fact that this look was always directed at him. That love in her eyes, that smile on her lips; was for him.

Several minutes went by with him silently looking at the paused image of her on the checkered screen. A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks, and he wasn't sure why yet. If it was for the shock of learning that someone could love him this much; or because of the envy, the longing for something that wasn't even his, not really, he never got there after all.

There was a hole in his chest, a missing piece of something he never had. Loki didn't even know her name, yet a part of him was screaming it anyway.

He eventually moved on, and almost threw up when he watched Thanos take his life from him. Loki watched his brother cry over his lifeless body, yet he wasn't seeing her.

And despite the boatload of information thrown at him, the questions clouding his mind were only; who is she? Where is she?

Lost. Loki felt more lost than he probably ever did in his entire life. He had just watched what was supposed to be the rest of his life, yet... it wouldn't be. So what now?

He sat down on the small stairs of the room, burying his head in his hands.

And then there was this girl; smiling and laughing and holding his hand as if he had been the best thing to ever happen to her. This feeling, warm and heavy, squeezing Loki's heart, was a foreign one—he couldn't quite place why that look of pure adoration in her eyes was directed at him.

He needed to know who she was. He needed to find her and ask her why. He needed to know what she was, or- would be to him.

The sudden sound of the door opening startled Loki, he watched as Mobius walked into the room, his steps overly cautious. "Loki? Nowhere left to run."

Gulping back a sob clawing its way through his throat, Loki took a deep breath. He slowly glanced up, voice calm and defeated as he asked a question he already knew the answer to; "I can't go back, can I?"

Mobius simply looked at him, his eyes holding some kind of sympathy as he spared Loki from hearing the truth out loud.

Loki pursed his lips, his gaze slowly trailed back to the screen on his left that again adorned a paused image of the mysterious girl. Her lips were turned up just slightly, dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and she held a slowly melting ice cream in one of her hands. "Who is she?" he asked quietly.

Placing his weapon on the table, Mobius let out a long sigh, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about her."

The words made Loki snap his head towards him, a frown coming to his eyebrows immediately.

"She..." Mobius hesitated, "she is someone almost as annoying as you."

"That doesn't answer my question." Loki nearly sounded offended. He got up then, taking slow steps towards Mobius. "She seemed... important, yet I don't know who she is."

"I'm afraid you haven't met her yet."

"Then tell me who she is."

Mobius grimaced; "I don't think it's my place to say it."

"That's absurd," Loki scoffed, "it's my life we're talking about here."

"How about we help each other then, hm?" Mobius offered, and when Loki only frowned at him, he continued; "a fugitive Variant has been killing our Minutemen."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "And you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him?"

A small smirk came to Mobius' lips; "That's right. You help us stop him. I get you an opportunity to meet her and you can ask her whatever questions you want to know."

A meeting with someone didn't feel like much for his end of the bargain, but that same voice inside Loki was still screaming a name he didn't know how to spell. He had to know.

"Deal."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki #marvel #loki series #loki x you #marvel x reader #loki x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #what once was mine #loki fanfic #my story #loki laufeyson x reader

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risuola · 6 months

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REAL LIFE SURPRISE — GN. READER x GOJO SATORU

Life has been heavy on your shoulders lately, so instead of going out with your friends on a halloween night, you decided to stay in bed, catch up on the last episodes of JJK and just rest. With that in mind, you fall asleep while watching the second season, but what you couldn't prepare yourself for is the voice that wakes you up.

cw: none really, except for anime spoilers, season 2, but everything written happened already in the anime — 1,4k words

a/n: it's just my brain babbling, don't mind me. I had this idea for a long time now, it's written quickly so errors might occur!

It was halloween night, you're alone in your house. Life has been heavy on you lately, so you decided to stay at home, binge watch anime - you had few eps of your favorite anime to catch up on. You've been so busy for the past few weeks that you weren't even thinking about watching JJK, so this seemed like a perfect opportunity.

And you did just that; snuggled with blankets, you put the second season on. First part somewhat eased your mind. Gojo's memories really filled you with melancholy, it cleared many things from what you watched in the first season. Then the Shibuya arc started. It was exciting, even though you kinda knew what will happen, you read the manga, but the animation just hits different.

Your eyelids began growing heavy, the pillow below your cheek seemed to suck your consciousness away and finally, you just passed out. The sounds of episodes playing in the background did nothing to wake you up, even the light from the screen wasn't bothering you as you dozed off into the dream lands. And you'd probably be sleeping until morning. You'd wake up not knowing where you really stopped watching, but that's okay - you can always start over, you loved the anime after all. But you didn't sleep that long.

You woke up nervously, the sound of a long hum made your eyes flutter open in an instant. You noticed the screen in front of you, it wasn't playing anymore, the video stopped and you recognized the scene from the manga - Gojo just got sealed into the prison realm, but when you looked closer, you could tell the screen was glitching. It never did this before.

"You're awake," the voice reminded you of itself and you almost shit your pants. Someone was in your room, someone was inside your house. And the tone... it seemed oddly familiar, you felt like you know it from somewhere, but there's not a single person you could really tie it to. But you knew the voice, you knew it for sure.

Without thinking much, you grabbed the first thing near you. Armed with the soft-cover notebook you jolted up, ready to aim the deadly weapon at the intruder, but your heart stopped at the sight.

A man was there, sprawled on the chair next to your desk. His long legs clad in black pants were spread widely as he was sitting comfortably, leaning against the backrest as if he wasn't inside your house. But it wasn't his large form that shocked you the most. It was his features. A human, but ethereal in every way. In the faint light of the led strips on your wall, you could tell his hair was light, maybe even white, just as the thick row of lashes that framed his eyes. His face was gorgeous, too perfect to be real but he was real, he was there.

"Let me turn the light on," he chuckled, noticing how much you struggled to see him in the pathetic imitation of lights. He got up, nearly hitting his head on the cheap chandelier in the middle of your ceiling and once his long fingers flicked the lights on, you nearly passed out. He really had white hair and it was easy to tell that it was white by nature. There was not a single discoloration near his roots nor a sign of it being dyed. It wasn't a wig either. And his eyes... bright blue, almost glowing with their crystalline beauty.

"What the hell is going on?", you asked, still gripping the notebook for dear life as if it was going to harm anyone. You probably couldn't kill a fly with it, not to say this tower of a man.

"Hmmm, I'm probably just as confused as you are," he replied, this time dropping his weight onto the edge of your bed. "I got sealed, my bad. I suppose the prison realm sent me into some kind of different dimention."

You blinked at him, taking in the information but your brain refused to register it properly. What the hell does he mean he got sealed?

"It's quite odd actually," he continued, "I can't really feel any cursed energy in here, or maybe my six eyes are not working all that well in this world. I hoped you'll tell me what kind of dimension it is. Ah, sorry, how rude of me. Gojo Satoru, nice to meet you."

"The fuck you mean Gojo Satoru?!", you nearly screamed, throwing the notebook at him, doing about as much damage as you suspected. None. He just dodged it. "It's not a dimension, it's the real world. You do not exist, you're a character from anime, for god's sake..."

"That's harsh, sweetheart," he chuckled.

Maybe it was a prank? Maybe your friends wanted to scare the shit out of you, maybe it was a cosplayer? Very good one, but it would make more sense than him being here. How the fuck he even got here? You're sure you locked all doors and windows were closed as well. And why was your computer stuck on the frame in the video?

"It's not funny," you whined, getting up from the bed and leaving the room to check on the doors. It really frightened you to see that everything was exactly how you left it. It was closed in the same, very odd way you always do it, with the upper lock twisted two times, the lower one twisted just once and the key still hanging from the keyhole. The windows were just as you left them as well, all closed except one in the kitchen - the one that's too small for anyone to squeeze in and it had an anti-mosquitoes mesh outside. You were also on the 7th floor. What was going on?! "It's really not funny..."

"You seem really nervous for someone who just woken up, you know?", the man followed you and when you looked at him, he was standing next to the entrance to your room, leaning against the doorframe. "I must admit, I can't really recognize myself in the mirror, I remember my face slightly different."

"Yeah, like this?", you grabbed your phone and showed him your homescreen. Embarassment of having his picture both there and on the lockscreen you pushed away, it wasn't important right now. His gorgeously blue eyes scanned the wallpaper, the orbs glistened in the harsh light of your screen and you listened to the soft hum he made. You suddenly realized why his voice sounded familiar. It was Gojo's voice. Or rather his voice actor's...

"Oh yes, that's more like it," the man gave it a nod and then turned to look at himself in the small mirror on your wall. "Still handsome though. What you think?"

"You are gorgeous, but THAT'S NOT THE POINT," you almost screamed. What do even do in this situation?

"Well, I suppose I'll stay in this world for as long as my students get me out of the prison realm," he said matter-of-factly, shrugging with nonchalance, completely unbothered by the way he isn't supposed to exist in this world. "What about the cursed energy? Are you heavenly restricted or-"

"There's no such thing as cursed energy in real world. No six eyes, no limitless, no cursed spirits, domain expansions, no nothing. In this world we are just flesh and bones. Strength is measured in brains, muscles and money. Nothing else."

"That's interesting," he paused for a moment, taking in the information. You could tell he was more confused than before but still, he was keeping himself together better than you.

"Listen, it's not like I don't believe you but... is there any way you could prove that you are Gojo Satoru? I mean, I don't even know if it's possible... Fuck, you're not supposed to be anything more than an animated drawing," you shook your head, slowly feeling paranoid. If that was a joke, it really was a good one.

"Prove? I mean, I'm not sure, never needed to confirm my identity," the man chuckled. "If I don't have my powers in here, it might be complicated. But you can check, I'm not dressed as anyone. It's my hair, my face. Jujutsu uniform, though it's slightly bloodied now. I have my blindfold with me."

"Sure, sure... Nevermind, I'm just confused. I'll wash your clothes, I guess... tomorrow I'll get you something to change. You can stay here."

"Thanks, sweetheart," he smiled at you. Stupidly attractive.

Deep down you wished you're sleeping. Maybe it's your brain that's playing tricks on you, maybe it's just a fantasy. There was no way this man was standing here, in your little kitchen right now, waiting for his tea to be made. There was no way he could somehow get out of the screen and just... materialize in your little studio apartment. There was just no way, right?

Right?

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epicbuddieficrecs · 4 months

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Favorite Buddie fics of 2023!

Every single year at @epicstuckyficrecs I used to do a fic rec at the end of the year with my favorite fics. I figured I should keep the tradition going! So, without further ado, these are my favorite Buddie fics (in no particular order) published in 2023! (you can also check out some other favorite Buddie fics of mine here)

If you have any favorites that aren't in this list, don't hesitate to share them in the comments! :)

Complete

find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief

let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-Season 6, Getting together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.

Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)

Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

come with me, together, we can take the long way home series by allisonRW96/ @homerforsure (Canon compliant | 105K | T to M):

Get me through the night; Make me feel alright (Post-S3 Finale | 11K | Mature): After an emotionally-gutting reunion with Abby, Buck turns to old coping mechanisms. Eddie helps him find a better way. In Uncertain Times, The Uncertain Rules Apply (Pre-S4 | 22K | Teen): Covid comes to LA. Eddie copes. Or doesn't. Holding out for Something More (Stuck in Reverse) (Post S4E3/Lone Star Crossover | 26K | Teen): LA is coming out of lockdown and the world is returning to some sense of normalcy. But going back to the way things were hurts more than Buck expected. While his therapist challenges him to confront what he really wants, the team takes a trip to Austin... and El Paso. so far from being free (S4E4: 9-1-1 What's Your Grievance?, S4E5: Buck Begins | 46K | Teen): That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible.

Kink Club AU series by Princessfbi/ @princessfbi (Canon Divergent - Different First Meeting, BDSM, Dom Eddie, Sub Buck | Complete | Explicit): Canon compliant one shots where Eddie works at a Kink Club as a side hustle and meets Buck there before his first shift in 2x01.

The Warmth (of You) (25K): aka where Buck and Eddie first meet at a kink club before the firehouse To Weather the Storm (With You) (21K): aka the fallout of Buck finding out the dom he met at a Kink Club is his new coworker Safe Here (With You) (20K): aka Buck and Eddie handle working a shift after their first scene The Building Pressure (of You) (15K): aka Buck reaches out to Eddie after he leaves Abby's place in 2x07 An Offer to Torment (You) (14K): aka Eddie is all twisted up inside about what to do with Shannon. Buck offers himself up for some much needed holiday stress relief.

like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): Evan gave up trying to explain what happens to him after his parents forced him to have a talk with one of their friends, supposedly a pediatric therapist, and cruelly hinted that if Evan didn’t stop seeing and talking about his “invisible friends” as if they were real then his parents would send him far away to places where they lock children up in padded rooms. “Look,” Evan says quickly, forcing out the words before he gets too scared to speak,” I—I know this is going to sound crazy, but, um, ever since I was a kid I can see ghosts.”

tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia

All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

Don't They Know It's the End of the World? by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Fallout 4 AU, Post-Apocalyptic | 32K | Mature | Warning: Violence): After being put in a cryogenic sleep for over a hundred years to wait out an apocalyptic event, Eddie Diaz wakes up, too early, to find his son has been stolen from his cryo-chamber. Scared and alone in a frightening world he doesn't recognize, Eddie is willing to do anything to get his kid back.

but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

WIP

And here are my favorite WIP that I really hope will continue to be updated in 2024! 🤞

for all the haunts and homes of men by euadnes/ @kananjarus (Canon Divergent, Post-Apocalyptic, Station Eleven Crossover | WIP | 11/? | 96K | Mature | Warning: Violence): The year by the old calendar is 2025. Home is gone. Home is a failed rescue mission and an echo of a memory. Home is a lost boy living in a wooden house by the sea. But first, there was a promise. Christopher, when it's safe, I'll take you back to your father. Buck had all but given up on keeping it after the world had died and everyone in it. But just as some oaths refuse to be forgotten, so the same can be said about the endurance of love.

Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 104/? | 283K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 10/? | 25K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

Right Where You Left Me by hyacinthusbloom/ @thebloomingheather (Canon Divergent, Post-S4, Angst | 89K | 20/? | Explicit | Warning: Rape/Non-con): "Therapy?" Eddie suggests. Buck almost laughs, but instead says, "I'll go if you go." Because he had fully expected him to be chicken shit, to disagree, and instead Eddie, the bastard, replies, "Deal." Or Buck never tells anyone that he slept with his therapist and deals with the butterfly effect years later.

Innocence died screaming, honey, ask me I should know by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Demon Buck, Canon Divergent | 7/? | 12K | Teen): Buck is a demon with the power to help with pregnancy, childbirth, and infant health. When the Buckleys make a deal asking for someone to help 'save their baby', Buck leaps at the chance as it will give him what he's always wanted: a life on earth. But demon deals are tricky and neither of them gets quite what they're after. This is Buck's journey as he navigates growing up on earth and remembering how to help those in need.

#epic buddie fic rec #buddie #buddie fic rec #buddie fic #buddie fanfic #buddie fanfiction #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 fanfiction

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beskarandblasters · 3 months

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Was it all a dream?

Chapter Three: But it's not real and you don't exist

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Series summary: You’ve always had vivid dreams, an escape from your monotonous life. But one night, something appears in your dreams that keeps reoccurring; a pair of brown eyes. -Or- Two people, in completely different parts of the galaxy, find each other in their dreams and try to make sense of the strange connection they share.

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), switches between Reader and Din’s POV, story takes place in the dream realm and the real world, takes place somewhere between the end of season two/Book of Boba Fett/beginning + middle of season three, eventual smut, line between reality and dreams gets blurred, use of Mando’a words and phrases, no use of y/n

Chapter summary: In your dream, you confront the strange man and find out who he really is.

Word count: 2.9k

Chapter warnings: first date awkwardness

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs

You

The brisk wind stings your eyes. The air is thinner, harder to breathe. You look down at what’s beneath your feet; a sharp drop. Bad idea. The world feels like it’s spinning around you, nausea pooling in your stomach.

Stop. Close your eyes and breathe, you tell yourself.

You try and ground yourself as best as you can, accepting that you’re aware you’re dreaming again before opening your eyes slowly, keeping your gaze outwards instead of below you.

You’re in the mountains, no idea where exactly. Is this planet even real? Wherever you are it’s beautiful, despite the cold air and the dizziness. The moon is full and bright over the horizon line. The sky is decorated in beautiful shades of purple. And the mountains are graced with a light layer of snow. A pinch of snow lifts off the mountains, carried by the wind. You look over your shoulder and look for a place to go that isn’t at the edge of a cliff. More snow. More rocks. It’s better than falling. For a split second, you wonder what would happen if you just walked off the edge of the mountain. Would you wake up? Would you die?

That’s a question you’d rather not answer right now, despite the curiosity. You’re the only set of footprints here. Maybe you really are alone for once.

Carefully you step through the snow, keeping the pressure on your feet light for fear of waking something up or causing attention to yourself. But it seems you’re the only living thing even here.

Until you hear a sound in the distance.

You turn and see him, at the forest’s edge. Where did he even come from? Where do you go from here? Do you run? Do you hide? It doesn’t matter because you can’t do anything. You’re frozen with fear. He’s coming toward you and you’re having flashbacks to the last time this happened.

Run. Get out of here. Wake up.

But.

You.

Can’t.

And you shouldn’t. You need to be brave and confront him. It doesn’t matter if you’re scared. What’s going to happen here anyway? You’re dreaming.

“Hey,” the man says softly, grabbing your arm.

He must see the panicked expression on your face.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How do I know that?” you say, eyes trailing down to the blaster on his hip.

He follows your gaze and grabs the blaster. You take a step back in fear but he just tosses the blaster over his shoulder, landing with a plop in the crunchy snow.

“Do you believe me now?”

“…I guess?” you sigh, searching for eye contact but he doesn’t give it to you. Instead, he keeps his gaze on the ground, your hands, or even your lips– never looking you in the eye.

“Do you know where we are?”

“We’re dreaming, that much I know.”

“But you don’t recognize this place?”

“Nope. Do you?”

“No…”

“I don’t understand why we seem to be connected.”

“I don’t either. I asked-”

“You asked someone about this?”

“I did. I take it you didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“I asked a Jedi.”

“Wow, you must be important if you know a Jedi,” you chuckle, hoping that he’ll appreciate the self-deprecating dig you just made but he doesn’t say anything. He’s lost in thought, staring off into space with an expression on his face that looks like he’s trying to put the pieces together.

“…Hello?”

“Her name is escaping me,” he says, snapping himself out of his trance.

“Oh. Well-”

“She told me I had to talk to you if I wanted to try and understand all of this.”

“I guess? But I’m just about as lost as you are.”

A sharp shiver runs down your spine. It’s impossibly cold, the wind harsh and biting. You look down at your clothes, something you never thought to do until now. You’re wearing a long-sleeved shirt with linen pants. If this is what you’ve been wearing in previous dreams then you don’t remember. Whatever. It doesn’t matter because it’s not shielding you well enough from the elements, not here at least.

“You’re cold,” he says, not like he cares but more so like he’s stating an observation.

“Thanks for stating the obvious?”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m trying to… ground myself.”

“I get it.”

“This is new for me. I never used to remember my dreams. Let alone be aware that I’m in one.”

“I remember my dreams every night but this is new for me, too.”

An awkward, uncomfortable silence hangs heavy in the air between you, too. You glance over at him, standing in the snow. The wind blows his curls back and the bright moonlight illuminates his brown eyes…. Maker, those eyes. How they used to scare you. But now you’re here with him up close, you can read nothing else in them besides confusion.

He’s bathed in the purple glow of the sky, looking at his surroundings and trying to ground himself as best he can. It’s hard to do that in a dream where nothing is real. None of this is real.

Is he real?

“Are you… real?” you blurt out. Probably not the best thing to ask him as he’s in the middle of disassociating but it just slipped out.

“What? Of course, I am,” he says. His head snaps back in your direction but his eyes look past you.

“How do I know that?”

“Well, are you real?”

“I think so but now you have me second-guessing.”

“Both of us panicking is doing us no good.”

“Can’t we just wake up whenever we want?”

“Yes, but… I don’t want to.”

“You don’t?

“No, I… need to find out more about this; about you… I want to trust you, I think.”

He folds his arms, the black sleeves tightening with the movement of his biceps. His brows are furrowed like he’s lost in thought, staring down at his feet and trying to piece all of this together.

“Okay… We’ve established that both of us are real.”

“Right,” he affirms.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

He pauses, brow furrowing even deeper at your question.

“We’re not going to build trust if you don’t tell me your name,” you point out.

“My name is Din,” he says after a beat of silence.

It’s a start.

You tell him your name and you feel the tension start to dissipate. But it doesn’t last long.

“Where are you from?” he asks.

There’s just one problem.

You don’t remember.

“I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I can’t remember.”

“That’s odd.”

“What about you? Where are you from?”

He stares off into space before a look of realization hits his face. He can’t remember either.

“I can’t recall…”

“Then how do we know that we’re real?”

“We’re real. I know we are.”

If he’s real can I touch him? What happens if do that?

“Walk with me,” he says, leading you away from the edge of the mountain and into the forest.

You walk beside him, wondering where he’s taking you but also not feeling nervous about it. The back of your hand brushes up against his. He’s real even if this place doesn’t feel real.

There’s a part of you that wants to trust him; that wants to learn more about him. Out of the corner of your eyes, you glance at him as he walks, eyeing the saunter in his step, the way he carries himself, holding his head high. His body language reads as someone who’s confident. But if he’s so confident why can’t he look you in the eye?

Before you have time to ponder the idea any further, he stops at a small stone cave, facing the tree line and illuminated by the majestic purple light seeping in.

“It’s not much but I can build us a fire here.”

“S-Sure. Thanks, Din,” you say, sitting at the mouth of the cave and watching as he collects small twigs and branches off the trees, aiming for ones that aren’t dusted with snow. He collects a bundle of pine needles, too, before heading back to the cave.

He sits opposite you and arranges the sticks in a tent-like fashion, setting the pine needles down in a nest beside it. He takes a stick and a flatter piece of wood, rubbing his hands together with the stick swirling in between them. Watching him do this makes you realize you’ve never actually built a fire before, not like this at least. There are no trees on Sullust. Everything you know about trees and flora on other planets comes from the library where you go to learn about far-off places that feel like they can actually sustain life, unlike the toxic cloud of gas that is Sullust. The process seems tedious and it pleasantly surprises you that a complete stranger is doing the most to keep you warm. Even in a dream where at the end of the day, none of this really matters.

Once he gets a small ember he dumps it over the nest of pine needles. He takes the needles in his hands cradling the small and fragile life he just worked hard to create. He places the small fledgling of fire at the base of the tent of sticks. Soon enough the flame catches, growing into a fire steady as a beating heart. And then it’s just the two of you, sitting across from each other with the fire in between, watching the way the light dances on the walls of the cave. It’s silent but not uncomfortable. It feels like you two have known each other a long time yet somehow you forgot the connection you once shared.

“I know we don’t remember where we’re from but… Do you remember what you do?” you ask.

“I’m a bounty hunter,” he says, not looking at you but looking at the flames. The fire lights up his already warm eyes, illuminating the brown into a shade of amber.

“Really?”

“Yes? Is that surprising?”

“To me I guess. Where I’m from everyone does the same thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“We all work in a factory.”

“You can’t remember where?”

“No, but… it’s kind of nice not to. I don’t like where I live.”

“I see.”

“Do you?”

“I guess. I don’t really have one place I stay at lately. I’m usually all over the galaxy.”

“That sounds like a dream.”

“Yes… But it would be nice to have just one place where I could feel at home.”

“Looks like we both have something we could learn from one another.”

He smiles, still looking down at the fire, but it’s a smile that he’s still unsure of.

“Din?”

“Hm?”

“Are you this shy normally?”

He freezes and you fear you might’ve overstepped.

“How do you know I’m shy?”

“You won’t look me in the eye.”

“Oh.”

“It’s alright. You don’t have to if you don’t-”

“I don’t look like this normally.”

“No?”

“No, I don’t. I’m not used to this. I feel like I’m out of my element.”

You cock your head to the side and watch as he leans back against the wall of the cave, closing his eyes. Now that you’re not so afraid of him you can admire how beautiful he is. His strong arms strain the fabric of his black shirt. His facial hair is patchy (albeit in a cute way) and his nose is strong— it suits him. His hair is brown and curly, slightly matted down but you don’t know what from. He’s not wearing anything on his head. And his eyes. Maker how you wish he’d look you in the eye.

“I like how you look,” you say, the words slipping out absentmindedly as you admire him.

“Really?” he says, his eyes flying open and finally locking with yours.

“I do. And I know I don’t know what you look like outside of here but I’m sure you’re just as… handsome,” you say. You want to call him beautiful but you don’t know how he’ll react.

A boyish, lopsided smile graces his face, revealing a dimple you didn’t notice before. He opens his mouth to speak just as a large shiver runs down your spine.

“You’re still cold,” he says, getting up off the ground.

“I’m okay. Really-”

“Shh,” he says, sitting beside you and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You can’t deny it feels nice for him to hold you like this. You lean into his touch and try to gauge what he smells like. He smells clean, like fresh laundry. It’s a comforting scent.

“Tell me more about yourself. What’s life like for you?” you ask, turning and looking at him.

He meets your gaze and doesn’t stray away from it. Maybe he’s finally building the confidence you know he deserves.

“Lonely. Ever since my son left it’s been just me.”

“Your son?”

“He’s not mine. I took him in,” he says quickly.

“Oh okay. Where is he?”

“Training with his own kind. Before him, it was just me.”

“So you got used to having someone else around and now you’re alone again?”

“Yeah… exactly.”

“I’m sorry, Din. I know what it’s like. When I’m not at work I’m alone… all the time. It’s nice and all until it’s not…”

“Right. Sometimes it’s nice being able to do whatever I want whenever I want but at night… that’s when I feel it the worst.”

“I get it,” you say, keeping your eye contact with him locked.

“It’s nice to know that someone does,” he says, leaning into you closer.

You’re so close to him, feeling his body heat, taking in his scent, looking at all of the details on his face… his lips. Maker, his lips.

Without thinking you lean forward and kiss him, feeling his facial hair tickle your skin but in a welcoming, inviting way. He’s stiff at first, startled by your sudden move but soon enough he’s melting into the kiss.

“I’m sorry,” you say, pulling away but still ghosting his lips.

“You’re sorry for that?” he chuckles. This time his warm breath tickles your face.

“Yeah-”

“Don’t be,” he says, interrupting you and going in for another kiss.

His hand moves to the back of your head, keeping you against his face. The only thing on your mind is to be closer— as close as you two could possibly be. Your hand cups his cheek, brushing your thumb over his facial hair. It tickles him slightly and he lets out a small chuckle into the kiss. Just as you’re shifting positions to straddle him, he slips away from your grasp. You’re falling into inky black nothingness.

When you open your eyes, you’re met with the ceiling yet again.

Kriff. Just as it was getting good.

It all felt so real. He has to be real. There’s no way someone that deep, complex, and… beautiful is just a product of your subconscious. He was so warm, so kind, so gentle with you. It makes you long for someone you’ve never even met in real life.

But back to the original question… He has to be real, right? He said he didn’t look like that in real life. That alone has your mind racing. What did he mean by that? Does he look different entirely? Does he wear different clothes? Is his hair different? Maybe his eye color?

Or he really does look like that in real life and he perceives himself differently; he’s insecure.

Regardless, you’re fixating on him, your dreams when you sleep start to slip into maladaptive daydreams. And you fantasize about what he’s like and what it would be like if he were here with you right now and—

Your alarm clock interrupts you. There’s no time for dreaming. It’s back to reality and another shift at the factory.

Din

He wakes up frustrated, grasping the air at nothing. You felt so soft, so delicate in his lap just now. Your skin, your scent, your lips were so inviting, putting his anxious mind at ease. He too thinks about what it would be like if you were here with him, pressed up against him in the small cot of the Razor Crest. He thinks about what it would be like if your sweet voice was reverberating off the metal walls. He thinks about what your skin feels like and what it sounds like when you cum and—

Don’t get carried away, Din, he tells himself.

As he gets up for the day reality settles in. He realizes that… he likes keeping you separate from his day-to-day life. As terrible as that sounds, it’s the start of a relationship without any strings attached, no real-life implications or consequences. It’s a secret for you two, not to be influenced by the world around you. If you’re even real, that is.

That doesn’t mean he won’t fantasize about you, however. And deep down, part of him knows that you do exist, tucked away in a part of the galaxy he doesn’t know if he can find.

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#wiad #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin series #din djarin x you #din djarin x fem!reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #ppcu fanfiction

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riaki · 5 months

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knitted hearts | kento nanami x reader

pt.3 of christmas event! i wrote this for u genie ily 🤍 cw: established relationship, he (over)works at that financing company from before, two (2) petnames

the lights are still on.

that's the first thing kento immediately notices when he gets back; the office clocked him overtime, and so he's late. regrettably, again.

in the past, whenever that's happened, he'd have sent you a text beforehand and came home to a dark apartment; eaten something quick before getting into bed and slipping beneath the soft covers where your resting warmth melts away the stress of the day between his shoulders and his eyebrows.

tonight is different, it seems. the city buzzes with a quiet hum, light snowfall blanketing the roofs and muffling the sound. the holiday season is in full swing; normally, he wouldn't care to know. or remember. if not for the lame decorations around his workplace and the chocolate advent calendar you've been diligently (force) feeding him every night, he wouldn't've noticed at all.

he closes the door quietly behind him, careful not to make excess noise in case you're asleep as he slips his shoes off and hangs his jacket up. after all, you might've just been absentminded or tired, and forgot to switch the lights off. and you blame him for being lost to time.

it's quiet in the house; not dead silent, though. there's soft, ambient winter jazz flowing from somewhere in the house, and the faint sound of the fridge humming, paired with something that's baking in the oven. the scent of soft vanilla and orange settles gently over his shoulders, as if to welcome him home. his half finished coffee sits in a porcelain mug on the stained counter; you'd accidentally made too much for him, leaving you with a puddle of bitter caffeine that couldn't even be finished with your combined efforts. you'd promised him you would chug it over text, but clearly that didn't happen.

he's ready to go through the motions of a quiet night spent unwinding alone when he hears your voice— after endless hours of aching at a desk, clacking away on a mechanical keyboard in the dreariest environment imaginable, it soothes him like no vacation fantasy he's ever known.

"nami? is that you?" you called. your voice is coming from the shared bedroom; you sound tired, and kento can just imagine the sleepy look on your face. he's never been inclined to use the words 'cute' or 'pretty' to describe someone before, but if he had to choose, then he'd use them for you.

he walks down the length of the hallway, undoing his tie and gently tugging it off his neck as he reaches the threshold to your room. the air is warm and soft; it seems so much easier to breathe the closer you are. like the crushing weight of work he puts on his lungs dissipates into a cloud of melting frost.

"i'm home, sweetheart." he's surprised at how rough his own voice sounds; it's almost unfamiliar. he needs your rejuvenating touch; at least, that's what he decides the instant he sees you. you're sitting right in the middle of the mattress, something lumpy, tacky, red and green bundled up in your lap. with something between a sinking realization and a fluttering in his chest he recognizes it as the sweater you've been making for him. you're finishing it up, it seems, from the formerly-wide bundle of soft thread that's been reduced to a meek little crimson string on the white sheets.

it's one of your new interests. you seem to be taking up a lot of those, lately; kento feels as though it's his fault, for never having the time to take you out. yet you're always so patient despite his busy schedule, adjusting to portion out a chunk of time from your own just to accommodate for him. it's unfair, and so one night he vowed to do more for you over a glass of red wine and a fancy white table cloth, freshly cleaned and pressed. that was one of the rare times he'd been able to take you out like you really deserved. "and don't call me by my last name. you're allowed to use my given," he sighs, rather exasperated, but you both know there's only affection behind it.

you perk up, a bright look in your eyes that melts the last of the frost buried in his chest and beneath his eyes. he crosses the room to stand at the foot of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt a few to let himself breathe. and he doesn't miss the way your eyes linger, so he clears his throat, and you spring to action.

"i finished your sweater, ken. can you put it on?" you ask eagerly, and he's briefly reminded of a young boy with pink hair like raspberry chocolate and a golden retriever demeanor. a soft feeling pushes at the back of his heart, sending mushy gushiness through his veins at the sight.

you scoot close, holding it up for him to examine. in all honesty, it's not terrible; you get an A for effort, at the very least. the five reindeer look more like those urban folklore creatures, and the tree looks as though it could use seven more centuries under the sun-- but other than that, it's a perfect first try.

"i'd love to, darling, but i..." he doesn't get to finish, because you seem to wilt a little, and it already feels like that crushing burden over his diaphragm is back, but this time it's exceedingly and guiltily unpleasant, so he retracts his words.

"alright." he succumbs with a tired sigh, letting his eyes flutter shut and removing his glasses to rub the spot where the frame has been digging into his skin; normally you'd do it for him, but you're busy adjusting the fluffy pom poms (he didn't see those before) on the sweater's cuffs, so he does it himself.

he hears the tell tale shift of the soft bedding and he opens his eyes again, only to be met with a very expectant look on your face.

"put your hands up."

"...pardon?" a small amount of resistance to your antics is always present, at first. by now he knows you expect it. but this time, it may be much worse.

"you heard me! arms to the sky." he likes your laugh, a lot. it jingles like a gentle wind chime.

"i can put it on myself. i'm not a child," he says, a little cross, but you're undeterred. as per usual. not like he minds.

"please?"

kento doesn't particularly view himself as a man with a great many ambitious, or zealous ideals. still, he isn't a pushover and has a strong resolve. unfortunately for him (fortunately for you), when it comes to you, it doesn't take much for him to crumble. if you willed it, he'd get down at your feet.

with resignation, he kneels down on one leg, as if you're about to knight him. he waits patiently, holding his arms up, and he can practically feel your giddy smile.

soon enough, you're slipping it over his tangled blonde hair— with a little bit of effort and a lot of scratchy fabric. it's too big here and too tight there, hanging off his shoulders oddly and the sleeves are uneven. but it's cute, too-- in the way that a toddler's crayon doodles are endearing, so are your amateur efforts. what matters to him the most, is that you've handmade it for him.

nothing an industry company factory could achieve.

"so? how do you like it?" you prompt as you start to mess with the collar, pinching and pulling the fabric so that it suits his form appropriately. he doesn't ever remember you asking for his size, but you seem to know it anyway.

"it's warm," is his only input. he knows you'll complain— but it's fun to hear you whine.

you frown. "is that all?" there it is— a small, sweet little pout; the minute down tilt of your lips. your fingers dance over his collarbone as you pull the collar of his button up over the rim, and his breath hitches in his throat. kento wonders if you can feel his heartbeat or notice the way his adam's apple bobs when he swallows.

before you— or he— knows it, he's pulling you down to sit on the knee that's still propped up, catching you by the rest and meeting you halfway to press a gentle kiss to your lips. he's met with a muffled sound of surprise that quickly melts into a laugh; he can feel you smile against his lips and he wants to devour it.

"so i take it you like it?" you whispered as you lean in, hands leaving the unwieldy sweater to thread through his hair, messing it up to your heart's content after he slicked it to the side. you taste sweet, like chocolate and caramel-- he must've missed the advent sweet for today.

his only response is a small hum— you can feel the vibration, so you chuckle again and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling away breathless from the kiss to knock your forehead against his, gazing into his eyes. there's an undeniable well of warmth behind your gorgeous irises; if he had the time, he'd get himself lost in them.

"good, because i have socks on the backburner and you'll be getting a scarf next."

whenever the lights are off, kento knows you've gone to bed already, without him. but he thinks he could get used to scratchy, hand-knit clothing if it means they'll always be on and waiting for him after a long day of dreaming in front of a desk, all about your smile.

not proofread my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and/or plagiarize !

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munson-blurbs · 1 year

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Chapter 2: Don't Know What You've Got Till it's Gone

Collaboration with the Dustin to my Suzie, @corroded-hellfire 💚

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: You and Eddie are getting closer, and his friends can't help but notice something between you two. But when you receive devastating news, the pressure of being his upbeat, optimistic Sunshine becomes too much to handle.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, description of Eddie's scars, controlled use of pain medication, angst

WC: 6.6k

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“Yeah, well, next time I tell you not to be a hero, you’d better listen to me.” A man’s voice stirs you from your sleep. You gently roll over onto your side and see fuzzy shadows behind the curtain that separates you and Eddie.

“Hold on, Harrington,” Eddie pushes himself up slightly, an edge to his voice. “What do you mean by next time?”

“He’s still out there,” a younger voice pipes up. “We wounded him, but—” He stops abruptly, turning his stocky frame towards the curtain. “Hey, can your roommate hear us?”

“She can!” you chirp, and utterances of shit and shut up fill the room. “Don’t worry; I won’t tell anyone about your nerdy D&D secrets.” Eddie had spent the better part of the last few days explaining the ins and outs of the game, taking far too much pride in his Dungeon Master status for a man pushing 20.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Eddie calls out. “You decent? Want you to meet my friends.”

“Sorry, did we wake you?” A girl asks, but your view of her is obstructed by the curtain. “We have a tendency to be a little…”

“Loud?” The older of the guys offers. “Obnoxious? Grating?”

The boy shrugs. “That’s just the way we roll, man.”

“What do you mean ‘we?’” The first guy retorts.

“I’m all good, Eddie,” you say. Now that you’ve given the all clear, the older boy tugs back the curtain. You recognize him as Steve Harrington, who graduated with you last year.

“Steve,” he says, sticking out his hand for you to shake. “And, FYI, I do not play Dungeons & Dragons.”

You can’t help but let out a snort of laughter as you shake his hand and introduce yourself. “A shame. Eddie makes it seem like such fun.” At your sarcastic tone, Eddie flips you off, but you ignore him and continue. “We, uh, actually graduated together.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, eyebrows shooting up so high they almost blend into his perfectly coiffed hair. “Huh. You think I’d remember that.”

“I mean, it’s understandable you’d forget,” you say with a shrug. “You had just lost the last basketball game of the season.”

“Ouch,” Steve says, holding a hand over his heart. “But that doesn’t excuse the four years we were in the same class.”

Wincing, you give Steve another shrug. “More like seven. We went to middle school together, too.”

“Well, shit,” Steve says, running a hand over his face. “Yeah, I was a douchebag.”

“Was?” a feminine voice chimes in. Steve rolls his eyes and turns to the side to reveal the younger guy and a girl your age that are sitting next to Eddie’s bed.

“Robin, right?” you ask. She perks up in her seat, seeming pleasantly surprised that you know her name.

“Yeah,” she says.

“You’re in band, right? I’m friends with Vickie, and I know she’s mentioned you a few times,” you explain.

“R-Really?” Robin asks, eyes widening.

“Mhmm,” you hum in confirmation, watching an unmistakable grin grow from cheek to cheek. You’ll have to follow up on that another time if you have a moment alone with her. “And you are…?” you start, turning towards the curly haired boy hoisting himself up on crutches, braces adorning his teeth.

“Dustin Henderson,” he affirms. “Artificer: Master Inventor and future Hawkins High valedictorian.” You shake his hand, giggling as the three older friends roll their eyes in unison at his introduction.

“Don’t forget ladies’ man,” Robin taunts, and Dustin hoists up two middle fingers in response, fumbling to keep the crutches secured under his arms.

“Sunshine here is a ballet dancer,” Eddie says, trying to steer the conversation away from the topic of love. You watch as Steve and Robin exchange an amused glance, with the former mouthing Sunshine and the latter just shrugging. “She does, um, pointe?” He looks at you hopefully.

You nod. “Yup! I’ll be right back at it as soon as this bad boy heals up.” You gently pat your leg, grimacing as even the lightest touch sends sharp pains down to your toes.

You talk with the group for a few more minutes, swapping gossip about people from your graduating class, until Mandy knocks on the door. “It’s time for your appointment with the surgeon,” she says politely.

“Surgeon?” Eddie asks, brows crinkling in confusion.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammer, leaning on the nurse as you maneuver into the wheelchair. “Just, um, protocol with this kind of injury. Make sure everything’s good and all that.” He seems to buy this answer, and you breathe a silent sigh of relief. “It was nice talking with you all!”

Once you’re out of the room, Dustin turns to Eddie. “So,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Sunshine?”

“Shut up, Henderson,” Eddie grumbles, throwing a pillow at the boy.

“Yeah, be nice to him,” Robin teases. “That nurse just took his sunshine away!”

“So, are you involved with this sunshine?” Steve asks, an amused expression written all across his face.

“No, not like that,” Eddie says, suddenly finding the hem of his scratchy blanket fascinating. “Just friends.”

“You guys get along well,” Robin says, more statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees.

“And she’s beautiful, yeah?” Robin asks, raising her eyebrows at Eddie.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says.

“So, what seems to be the problem?” she asks.

Eddie groans, dropping his head back against his pillow. Never mind the fact that Steve “ladies man” Harrington–an actual ladies’ man, not like Henderson–is in the room, but Eddie’s never been particularly comfortable talking about his experience—or rather lack thereof—with girls. There’s also the fact that he was literally attacked by bats from an alternate dimension, barely escaping hell with his life intact. And you’re so bright and sunny and the total opposite of what Eddie brings to the table.

“It’s just that she… I mean, I… you see, we—.”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Munson. Stop playing games. We all see the spark,” Steve says, crossing his arms over his chest indignantly.

“There’s a spark?” Eddie asks quietly, lifting his head from the pillow and infinitesimal amount.

“I knew it!” Dustin exclaims loudly, earning an angry shush from someone passing through the hallway. “Look at the stupid grin on his face! Eddie wuvs his Sunshine!” He leans over to pinch Eddie’s cheek, but gets his hand slapped away.

“I don’t love her!” Eddie hisses. “Now, if you idiots could stop bothering me about this, and we can talk about anything else.”

“Okay, we’ll stop,” Robin agrees, but the mischievous smirk on her face says otherwise, “when you look me in the eyes and can tell me you don’t have feelings for her.”

Eddie lays back down and pulls the covers up over his head. “Goodnight and goodbye,” he mutters, despite the fact that it’s only 10 AM.

Steve yanks the covers back down, laughing when he sees his new friend scowling. “Calm down, man,” he says, sitting down on the starchy blanket, careful not to bump into Eddie. “We’re just messing with you. We’ll behave now.” He shoots Dustin and Robin a warning look, and the two grumble their apologies.

“‘S fine,” Eddie mumbles. “I’m tired anyway, so…” He lets his gaze fall to the doorway.

“Yeah, of course,” Robin says with a small smile. “We’ll visit soon.”

“Get well soon, buddy,” Dustin lowers his voice as quietly as he can—which isn’t saying much, given his normal volume. “The kids of the future are counting on more of your sadistic campaigns.”

As Eddie slips into a medicated slumber, he makes a silent prayer for sweet dreams. Your image appears in his mind, and he can’t deny the warmth it brings him.

Shit, he thinks. Those morons were right. I have a thing for Sunshine. He hopes that he’ll dream of you now that he’s admitted his crush.

No such luck.

The skies are red and gray, strange bursts of some sort of lightning fill the air. Weird shrill squeals fill the dead air. Eddie’s body is full of pain, searing and bleeding wounds making it difficult to breathe. Quick gasps leave his lips, his hands clutching at the ripped shreds of his shirt.

“Eddie! Shit!” Dustin’s voice rings around Eddie. The shorter boy is somewhere in the distance, not too far. “Steve! SOS! SOS!”

Soon, two pairs of hands are on Eddie’s body, trying to help, but only making the pain worse. He tries to steal himself against it, but it’s no use. The tears come, hot and thick as they build up in his eyes. The fear, the desperation, the pain. It’s all too much.

“Eddie?”

It’s not Steve or Dustin’s voice that Eddie hears above it all. It’s yours. But what are you doing in this God awful place? It’s the very last place that Eddie wants you.

“Eddie!”

The darkness in the sky fades, a subtle light beginning to shine through. Then, the next thing he knows, Eddie is blinking his eyes open in the bright hospital room, his face sticky with the trail of tears. He rubs at his eyes with the heels of his hands. Once his vision is cleared, he sees you being wheeled into the room in the wheelchair you were brought out in. Your face is pinched in concern and it takes Eddie a moment to realize you’re concerned for him.

“Can you wheel me over to Eddie’s bed instead? Thanks,” you say to the transporter, who does as you request. Eddie scoots over and pulls down his blankets, silently offering you the space next to him. Biting your lip, you look around as if you’re debating, before pushing yourself up onto your good leg and holding out your arms for balance. Immediately, Eddie reaches over and takes your hand so you can use him to steady yourself. Shooting him a grateful smile, you’re able to situate yourself on the edge of his bed.

The transporter looks like he doesn’t know if he should be allowing this or not, so he quickly puts his head down and leaves the room with the wheelchair. Eddie helps you get situated next to him before he pulls the blankets up over both of you.

“Another bad dream?” you ask once you’re comfortable.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs.

“Was it as bad as the first time?”

“At first. But I heard you calling me a lot earlier this time. Got all nice and light again before I opened my eyes. How’d it go with the surgeon?”

“Oh,” you say, averting your eyes. “Nothing special. Just going over X-rays and tests and stuff, ya know?” You clear your throat, anxious to have the subject changed. “You know when you’re getting out of here?”

“Not yet,” Eddie says, sinking back against his pillows.

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get out?” you ask.

“Honestly? Get a fucking cheeseburger. This hospital food is shit. I mean, come on. What a man gotta do to get something better than gray mashed potatoes and lime Jell-O?”

“Okay,” you say with a giggle. “After you get some good food, what are you gonna do?”

“I dunno,” Eddie says with a shrug. “Haven’t really thought about it.”

“Oh, come on,” you say. “What’s Eddie Munson’s big dream? Be a big rock star? World tours? Opening for Ozzy? No—Ozzy opening for you.”

Eddie scoffs, gently nudging your shoulder with his. “Before all…this…happened, I was thinking about moving to Indianapolis after graduation. Get involved in the music scene there.”

“Indianapolis?” You wrinkle your nose. “That’s honestly super boring. You survived an earthquake and you’re only gonna go to the state capital?”

“Fine,” he whines exaggeratedly, smiling as he does it. “How about…Australia? I can be, like, a kangaroo farmer.”

“Is that even a thing?”

“It is now.” His loose, tangled curls brush up against the part of your shoulder left exposed by the pale blue hospital gown. “What about you? New York City? Maybe dance on Broadway, or be one of those…Christmas, kicking girls?”

You snort out a laugh. “A Rockette?”

“Yeah.”

“Eh,” you shrug, pushing away the thoughts of the news you’d just received from the surgeon. “New York’s nice to visit, but I need someplace warm. I’m thinking of going to California.”

“Just don’t forget about me when you’re a big Hollywood star,” Eddie teases, though there’s a hint of seriousness in his voice. “And if the movie you’re dancing in needs a band, you know who to recommend.”

“Of course. But do you really think I could get Tears for Fears to play?” His shove is a bit harder this time, making both of you groan as you laugh. “Kidding, kidding. You know Corroded Coffin will be at the top of my list. If you’re not too busy with your own gigs.”

Never too busy for my Sunshine, Eddie nearly blurts out, but he says instead, “will do.” He’s silent for a bit before asking, “Why didn’t you go to California?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you going to college in Indiana and not California?” Eddie tries again. “I mean, you said it yourself: the entertainment scene is much better there than here.” He scrunches up his nose. “Actually, why are you even in college?”

You bark out a laugh at the bluntness of his question. “Um, because that’s what people do after high school?”

“You don’t have to, though,” he quips. “Think about it, Sunshine. College will always be there, but if you wanna pursue dance, you’ve gotta do it while you’re young and, uh, limber.” His cheeks blush a delicious shade of pink.

“Yeah, well.” The truth comes tumbling out before you can stop it. “My parents didn’t think it was a good idea. Just dancing. They wanted me to go to get my degree; build a ‘solid foundation’ or whatever.” You trace invisible spirals into the blanket as you speak. “My dad told me that he could never tell his friends that I danced for a living, because they would, and I quote, ‘think that his daughter was a stripper with daddy issues.’”

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “First of all, stripping is a noble profession, and I do not approve of any stripper slander in my home.”

“We’re not in your home,” you point out.

“I do not approve of any stripper slander in my hospital room,” he amends, flicking your forehead with his thumb and middle finger. “And, second, do not tell me that you made a decision about your future based on the opinions of your dad’s old-ass friends.” He groans when you remain quiet. “Seriously?”

“I just didn’t want to upset them,” you mumble. “The only reason they allowed me to study dance is because I’m also majoring in education. I could be a dance teacher.”

“Do you wanna be a dance teacher?”

“Someday,” you admit. “I taught some classes at my studio for the little kids, and I really liked it.” You gnaw at your lower lip.

“But?” Eddie presses, letting his thumb graze against yours.

“But it’s not what I want to do now,” you relent. “Right now, I want to go on auditions and maybe get cast in a play or a cheesy music video or a goddamn commercial and…and dance.”

Eddie gives your hand a quick squeeze before pulling back, not wanting to cross a boundary when you’re so vulnerable. “Then you’re gonna dance,” he murmurs. “We’ll get outta here and move to Cali, and you’re gonna dance.”

A month ago, the prospect of dropping out of school to dance professionally would have you downright terrified. Terrified of failure, of your parents’ inevitable disappointment, of finding out you’re not good enough. But now it only fills you with regret, because that dream became impossible with just the shifting of some rogue tectonic plates.

“Okay,” you say softly, once again wearing your hopeful façade. “Sounds like a plan.” A plan you’ll both easily forget once you’re back out in the real world, faced with the problems you’ve been shielded from within the hospital walls.

The two of you lay there talking about your futures until sleep overtakes you both. Eddie’s the first to drift off; you stay awake for a bit, consumed by echoes of today’s appointment with Dr. Sanoj. What was supposed to be a brief meeting about scheduling your surgery turned into something much more devastating. You rest your head on Eddie’s chest, only allowing yourself to unravel when you hear his soft snores. The combination of the energy expended by crying and the drowsiness from your meds allows you to sleep, still hiccuping from tears as you fall into a dreamless slumber.

Neither of you hear the soft click of crutches as Dustin hobbles back into the room. “Forgot my—son of a bitch, I knew it!” he whispers, slinging his left-behind jacket over his shoulder. “Steve and Robin are gonna lose their shit!”

The next morning, Mandy arrives with breakfast and medication. In front of each of you, she places a plate of runny scrambled eggs, fruit that is described as “fresh” but most certainly is not, and a small carton of orange juice. It’s strangely domestic, and you can’t help but imagine you and Eddie eating together in your shared home. You’re making pancakes or waffles or frittatas—anything better than the food in front of you. Eddie’s frying up bacon, wearing an apron that says Kiss the Chef, and you do, over and over and—

The rattle of your pill cup snaps you from your fantasy, and you dutifully swallow the pastel tablets with a swig of juice.

Eddie grins when Mandy gives him his meds. “Hello, beautiful,” he croons, making grabby motions with his calloused hands.

“Sorry to disappoint, Mr. Munson; no more painkillers in this batch,” Mandy says, laughing at his pout despite herself. “Dr. Franklin wants to speak with you; he’ll be making his rounds in a few minutes.”

“Oooh, Eddie’s in trooouble!” you sing-song, flashing a grin at him.

Rolling his eyes at you, Eddie downs his pills and leans back against his pillow. “Would be used to it. Was in Higgin’s office enough.”

“Oh, Eddie,” you say with a sigh. “Did you go down to the cafeteria while I was asleep and make some big dramatic speech on one of the tables? At least tell me that someone videotaped it for me.”

“You’re hilarious,” he says, tossing his empty paper cup at you. The giggle you let out has his stomach feeling tingly, and he’s sure it’s not from the medications.

There’s a knock on the open door to your room and an older man steps inside, a clipboard tucked under his arm. “Hey, Eddie. How are you feeling?”

“Better. Thanks, doc,” Eddie answers. “What’s the word?”

“Well, glad to say everything looks good. All lab results are normal and you’re healing up nicely. Of course, some injuries still have a ways to go, but there’s no reason you can’t be home for that.”

Eddie’s immediately thrilled. Finally, being able to get out of the hospital where he’s been poked and prodded and it’s impossible to get a good night’s sleep because of all the beeping equipment and nurses constantly checking on you. But as soon as the excitement came, it went. Because leaving the hospital also meant not spending most of the hours in the day by your side. No waking up to your laughter as he tells shitty jokes over your shitty breakfasts. No more saying, “I told you so” when Shelby confesses to the other twin, “I’m still in love with you” on your daily soap opera binges. No more constant sunshine.

“That’s great,” Eddie tells the doctor, his heart not behind the words. “When am I sprung?”

“Should be good to go tomorrow morning. I’m just gonna head back to my office, dot the i’s, cross the t’s, put my name on the X. You know, all that official mumbo jumbo. I’ll have Mandy get everything together. Your prescriptions, your discharge papers, and whatever else you’ll need.”

“Sounds good,” Eddie says, nails scratching at the blanket in his lap.

“Any questions for me?” The doctor asks. When Eddie shakes his head, the doctor gives him a smile and pats Eddie’s leg.

“Oh, I have one,” you say, raising your hand from where you’re tucked up in bed. “When is he cleared to shower? It’s like sharing a room with a donkey.”

The doctor lets out a small chuckle. “Eddie, you are officially cleared to take a shower. If you think of any questions, just tell Mandy. She’ll make sure I get the message.”

“Will do. Thanks.” Eddie nods his head at the man as he steps out of the room. Eddie turns his head to see you grinning at him. While it’s a beautiful sight, it now gives him a melancholy feeling.

“You’re being freed!” you call. “You can go get that cheeseburger tomorrow!”

“Should I sneak one into you?” Eddie asks, his smirk not packing its usual punch.

“Oh, please do,” you say. “God, I can practically taste it.”

“Or smell it? Like, how apparently you’re smelling me?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. Part of him is a little embarrassed because the two of you were sitting so close together just last night.

“You’re not that bad,” you tell him. “I probably smell vile.”

Not a chance, Eddie thinks. “All right, well, I guess I’ll go take a shower then.” He stands up from the bed and over to the small pile of clothes Wayne had brought him the other day. Just some old t-shirts and comfortable pajama pants to sleep in, but it was still nice to have a touch of home.

Once Eddie has closed the bathroom door behind him, Mandy comes in to check your vitals.

“Heard the good news,” she says as she reads the numbers of your blood pressure. “Gonna be weird having a room to yourself? You guys have been inseparable.”

Your face heats at her words and you look down at your lap as she scribbles something into your chart. “S’fine,” you say with a shrug. Mandy looks down at you, a knowing smile on her lips.

“Uh huh,” she says as she clicks her pen. “Well, all your numbers are good. They stay this way, you’ll be headed to the operating room before you know it. Need anything?”

“No,” you say, downcast eyes on your blanket.

A bang from the en suite bathroom has both you and Mandy craning your heads in that direction.

“I’m good!” Eddie shouts. “Just dropped the shampoo!”

It makes you chuckle and Mandy shakes her head, fondly. You think she’s going to miss him, too.

“I’ll see you soon, I’m sure,” you say to Mandy as she heads out the door. Sighing to yourself, you cuddle up in your blankets and decide to have a five minute pity party. Not only are you facing multiple surgeries over the foreseeable future, but Eddie won’t be here by your side to keep your spirits up. Sure, maybe he calls you his sunshine, but you’re positive he isn’t aware of how much he brightens your days too. The water turns off in the bathroom and you quickly wipe your hands over your cheeks, trying to catch any pesky tears that may have slipped free.

The curtain in the middle of the room is opened—it’s only ever closed anymore if a doctor or nurse needs it to be for some reason. It allows you to see the bathroom door open, but before you see him, you can hear Eddie mumbling to himself.

“Man knows how to do laundry. What the hell is this? A fucking toddler shirt?” When you finally see him, your breath is caught in your chest—for two reasons. One, the teenage girl in you can’t help but respond this way to seeing the guy you have a crush on without his shirt. Two, you’d never really heard the whole story of why Eddie had to come to the hospital, and seeing the puckered and pulled flesh of his chest makes your heart ache. There’s bruising leaving purple and brown spots on top of red and pink gashes that are healing. It looks painful and searing against his otherwise pale white skin.

You know better than to stare. Obviously he’d assume you’re just staring at the scars, not admiring the small but sculpted muscles beneath them. It takes a Herculean effort to pull your gaze from his body and look down in your lap.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbles as he stomps over to his pile of clothes. He rummages through them until he finds another shirt. He’s quick in slipping it on, then turns towards your bed. Taking the few steps over in your direction, he sits down on the bottom corner of your bed. When you look up, there’s half a smile on his face as he plays with a small white cloth in his hands. “Believe it or not, this used to be a shirt that fit me.” He holds the cloth up and you see it’s a Guns N’ Roses shirt that’s been shrunk until only a child could fit into it. “My uncle must’ve shrunk it. Guess that’s payback for all the times I turned his white shirts pink because I left a pair of red boxers in the washer.”

“Led Zeppelin is better anyway,” you say, gesturing to the shirt he’s currently wearing.

“So, uh,” Eddie says, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with the too-small tee. “You saw the scars, huh?”

“I did,” you say in a quiet voice. His cheeks turn red and it breaks your heart. “No, please don’t be embarrassed, Eddie. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Shutting it again, Eddie shakes his head. “I, um… they just. They’re—what I mean…”

“Eddie, take a breath. It’s okay.” You go to reach for his hand, but you can’t bend enough due to your injured leg. Eddie shifts so he’s facing you and leans the rest of the way so you can take his hand. “There’s no scar you could have that would make me think any less of you. Plus, you haven’t seen my leg. It looks pretty gnarly.”

“Gnarly?” Eddie asks, looking up at you underneath his eyelashes, the tiniest smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I’m preparing for that California life,” you tease him. “Gotta fit in with the surfer dudes.”

Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “As soon as you get the OK, I’m booking our tickets.” He shoves the pillow out of the way and sits on top of the blanket. “I can’t afford first-class, so coach will have to do.”

“Lucky for you, I’m not a diva—yet,” you add, excited to play along with the fantasy game he has going on. “I can handle a few hours with the common folk.”

“And we thank you for gracing us with your presence.” Eddie’s eyes flit back to your leg. “When do you think you’ll be good to go?”

Dr. Sanoj told you that between surgeries and recovery, it’ll be at least six weeks, but you bite back that information. “Any day now,” you lie. “Just waiting on those discharge papers. But you know how that can be, with all the sign offs. Everyone’s gotta cross their t’s and dot their i’s.” Good God, shut up, you think.

“Cool,” Eddie nods. He looks deep in thought, tongue poking out in concentration. “Yeah, all right. I can make it work.”

You smile, rolling your eyes playfully at his commitment to the bit. Your pain meds start to kick in, and you drift off into a hazy sleep.

While you’re passed out, there’s a soft knock on the door.

“Oh, she’s asleep,” Eddie hears a woman’s voice softly murmur. There’s a slight creak as she sits in the chair next to your bed. “My sweet girl. Mom’s here.”

Your mom. Eddie uses his elbows to push himself up, pulling the curtain back a few inches.

“Um, hi,” he says, not realizing how nervous he is until he actually starts talking. “Are you Sunshine’s mom?”

The woman’s brow crinkles. “Sunshine?”

Eddie’s cheeks tinge pink. “Yeah, I, uh, I call her Sunshine,” he stammers, nodding in your direction.

“Then, yes, I’m Sunshine’s mom.”

“She, um, she’s—I call her Sunshine because she brightens up my day. Probably the only person in this building who doesn’t hate my guts, let alone like me.” He wants to stop talking, but he can’t. “I have these nightmares, y’know? From the, uh, earthquake thing. And she always pulls me outta them. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I go home tomorrow.”

Your mom gives Eddie a sympathetic smile, gently stroking your hand, minding the needle poking into it. “Well, she’s always telling me how much you make her laugh. Lord knows she could use some happiness in her life.” She sighs. “I just hope her new roommate is as kind as you.”

“At least she’s getting outta here soon,” Eddie offers, “so even if she has a shi—bad roommate, it won’t be for long.”

“Six weeks isn’t exactly ‘soon,’” your mom says. Her gaze doesn’t leave your face, so peaceful in your sleep.

“Wait, six weeks?” Eddie nearly chokes on his own tongue in surprise. “No, she told me that the doctor should clear her in the next coupla days.”

Your mom shakes her head. “She’s got three surgeries to fix that broken femur, plus recovery time. The reason it’s only six weeks is because she’s young and healthy.”

Eddie feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. Why would you lie to him? Get him pumped up about the prospect of moving to California, living out your dreams together, for it to all be bullshit?

Tears prick at his eyes. Maybe this was all just a joke, a stupid prank on your part. Make the Freak think that someone actually cared about him, laughing behind his back the whole time.

Maybe it’s best that he’s leaving tomorrow. Then he won’t have to listen to you drag him along for your own sick entertainment.

You wake up around dinnertime, stretching your limbs as much as your limited mobility allows. It’s a far cry from your usual limber exercises, but it’s enough to get the blood flowing through your body.

An episode of Wheel of Fortune plays from the TV in the corner, but it’s blocked by the curtain. Eddie probably closed it while I slept, you think. That’s pretty much the only time you two keep the room divided; every now and then, you forget and wake up to the sight of Eddie Munson sleeping next to you.

“Eds? You awake?”

“Yup,” is his terse reply, with no enthusiasm behind it.

You open the curtain with a grin. “Are you grumpy because your novelas aren’t on?”

“Nope.” He keeps his arms crossed over his chest, left ankle draped over his right.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, frowning. “Did something happen while I was sleeping?”

“Yeah, actually.” Eddie finally allows his gaze to meet yours. His usual friendly doe eyes are clouded with anger. “Your mom stopped by.”

Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Did she say something that upset you? I told her that all the murderer stuff wasn’t true, and she believed me—believed you.”

“Actually, we talked a bit about you.” The acid in his tone is enough to burn.

“What about me?” you ask, only becoming further confused by this conversation.

Eddie huffs out a humorless chuckle and licks his tongue across his teeth. “Really thought you had me, didn’t you? Think you could pretend to be all buddy buddy with me just to mess with me? Get in my head?”

“What? Who’s in your head?” Part of you wonders if this is all some medicine-induced stress dream. “Eddie.” You push yourself up as best you can, leg aching and body suffering from general soreness from being cramped in the bed for so long. “What are you talking about? What did my mom say to you?”

This time when his eyes cut to you, there’s more than anger there. There’s fury, pain. The sight makes your heart ache, and the fact that this look is directed at you is making your head spin.

“Just a couple of days, huh?” Eddie pushes himself to the edge of his bed so his legs hang off the side. His glare burns your skin and you feel yourself wanting to shrink down and out of sight. “That’s how long til the doctor will clear ya?”

Part of the puzzle of why Eddie was mad was starting to kick into place. Shit, you think. Mom must’ve said something about the surgeries.

“Eddie, I—.”

“Lied? Yeah, you did. But what’s that matter when you’re lying to The Freak?”

Guilt gives way to anger in your gut as he throws this accusation at you. Not once, whether in high school with him or after, did you think of Eddie as a freak. You’ve never agreed with those who called him names and treated him as lesser than.

“I didn’t lie to you because I think you're a freak, Eddie.” It comes out strangled between all the emotions vying to be expressed through your voice.

“You sure about that?” Eddie narrows his eyes at you, and it’s hard to see a trace of the laughing and smiling Eddie you’ve become so close with.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you grit out. “I lied becau—.”

“Well, what possible other motive could there have been?” Eddie questions. His hands are gripping the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning almost as white as the linens.

“If you would just listen to me!”

“So you can lie some more?” Eddie scoffs and shakes his head. “Well, screw California.”

Confusion is suddenly back in your mixture of emotions. California? Why bring up that joke now? Unless…

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. “You were actually serious about going to California?”

“What?” he practically barks out. “You weren’t?”

“Eddie, I thought that was a joke,” you say with a disbelieving laugh. “Some made up fantasy to get us through spending all our time in these four plain-as-fuck walls.”

“Of course you weren’t really going to do that with me,” Eddie says, a sneer curling his lip.

“Because I didn’t know it was real!” you try to explain.

Eddie throws up his arms, grimacing as it tugs on his stitches. “Why wouldn’t it be real? Is me having a future that unbelievable?”

“What the hell are you on?” you hiss. “Eddie, you need to finish high school. And I need to get my bachelor’s degree. We can’t just be fucking off to California like it’s no big deal!”

Eddie bites his thumbnail before responding. “Let me get this straight. We narrowly escape death during this…earthquake…and you wanna just go back to our normal lives? Like we weren’t given a second chance to live?” He’s pacing around the room now. “My neighbor? Max Mayfield? Harrington told me that she’s blind now. She’s fucking blind and in a full body cast!”

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, but he continues frantically walking back and forth without acknowledging you.

“And Jason Carver. Jason fucking Carver! I hated that son of a bitch, and now he’s dead. All those times he was a piece of shit to me and I wished something would happen to him, and now it did.”

“That’s not your fault,” you try. “You didn’t cause the earthquake.”

Eddie shakes his head. “That’s all I thought about: death and sadness. And then I met you.” His eyes are shiny with tears. “Someone who liked spending time with me, who believed in me, who had these crazy dreams just like I did. A…a friend.” He wipes at his face clumsily, embarrassed to be crying. “But you’re just like the rest of them, huh?”

“That’s not fair—”

“Y’know what’s real fuckin’ funny?” Eddie smacks his hand on his bedside table. “The other day, Harrington said that we—you and I—had some kinda ‘spark’ between us.” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Guess he’s just as full of shit as you are, Sunshine.” When he says the nickname now, it’s full of venom; there’s no trace of the sweet, goofy guy you’ve gotten to know.

“Eddie, if you would just let me—” But yet again, Eddie doesn’t let you attempt to explain any of the situation. The fact that a part of you somewhere deep inside is fluttery because Steve saw a spark between you and Eddie is something you have to put away to examine at a better time.

“Good luck with your surgery,” Eddie says. “Too bad the doctors can’t cure bitch.”

It feels like a punch to the gut, the air being knocked out of you. Your mouth opens and your lips move, but no sound comes out. There’s a crack in your heart, but it quickly feels like it’s been soldered closed with the anger bubbling up inside of you. Your lungs reinflate, the blood pumps heavily through your veins, and your fists clench where they rest in your lap. The urge to lash out is strong. And at this moment, you’re so very weak.

“You know what, Eddie? Fuck you. And hey, good luck getting to California with those murder charges on your record.” The moment the words tumble out of your mouth you wish you could take them back. Eddie stepped over the line, but you ran right past him. “Shit, I didn’t—.”

Suddenly you’re not looking at Eddie anymore. He’s pulled the curtain closed, the last glimpse you get of him is a raging fury in his eyes. And you can hardly blame him. The only thing that stares back at you is the gauzy white curtain still swaying from the forceful yank.

“Eddie…” The television volume gets turned up to an ungodly volume, making you cover your ears and impossible to have a conversation over.

You spend the rest of the night with your ear pressed to the pillow in an attempt to drown out the baseball game he’s watching. Given his penchant for yelling about the absurdity of sports, you doubt he’s even paying attention to it, but the broadcasters’ monologues about fastballs and strikes curtails any attempt to speak to him. You barely touch your dinner, and Mandy tuts at you worriedly, but you insist you feel fine.

In reality, you feel nauseated. You said a horrible thing to a wonderful person, and you really hurt his feelings.

Maybe we can talk it through in the morning, you think, trying not to get your hopes up. Maybe we can apologize and move on.

When you wake up the next morning, his bed has been slept in, left unmade while he’s probably in the bathroom. The curtain is pulled back; an excellent sign that he’s ready to hear your apology, and possibly forgive you. As soon as he comes back, you’ll give it a shot.

“Gonna be quiet around here for a bit without your buddy, huh?” Mandy says from the doorway. She walks over to Eddie’s bed and starts stripping the sheets. “You get to say goodbye?”

“Not yet,” you admit. “I’ll have to catch him before he leaves.”

Mandy’s brows furrow in confusion. “Honey, his uncle came and got him an hour ago.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “He didn’t tell you?”

All you can do is shake your head.

“Probably didn’t wanna wake you. I’m sure he’ll stop by and visit.” Mandy curls the sheets into a ball and tucks them under her arm. “I’ll be back with breakfast and meds.”

As soon as she’s gone, you burst into tears. Eddie left without saying goodbye. He left thinking you don’t care about him or believe in him. He left without his Sunshine.

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drowninginredink · 21 days

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Favorite Albums: choose 9 and then tag 9 people!

For my own sanity, I didn't include musicals because I could fill up a whole other 3x3 grid with them, and comparing musicals to non-musical theater albums is weird.

Those last 4 that you definitely don't recognize are by Old Earth who you should definitely listen to if you want artsy ambient indie folk with really intricate guitar. My absolute favorite artist by far, and also the most obscure artist I listen to by far.

Electric by The Pet Shop Boys — I think this is my favorite album period. I am still pissed off that Tom Scott called it "not that great" in the old Technical Difficulties podcast. Maybe I'm biased because it was my favorite album when I was 14 and because it's where I really fell in love with the Pet Shop Boys. God I love them. So much. I'm way too excited for the new album and I worship geowayne's website where he analyzes all their songs. I probably should have put another PSB album on here, but there isn't another where I'm in love with every track. Plus honestly so many of my favorite tracks of theirs are B sides. They still release B sides with their singles, and this album cycle, the B sides are honestly better than the actual singles. Anyway electric is pure synthy electropop and I adore it in that way you can only love something you first heard at 14.

Pure Heroine by Lorde — I read a quote somewhere where Lorde said she tried to really put all of being a teenager into the album, so much so that once she became an adult, she probably wouldn't understand or like it anymore. I can definitely say that I'm not nearly as attached to it anymore now that I'm an adult, but God, it was my life when I was 13. She really did capture the unique ennui of being a teenager. I wrote a novel in eighth grade, and I wrote at least half of it to tracks from this album. Also, hot take: Royals is my least favorite track by a lot. Buzzcut Season is my favorite.

My Head is an Animal by Of Monsters and Men — God, this one was my life when I was like, 12. I fell in love with folk there, and I'm still in love nearly a decade later. Another album where I still love every track.

Strange Trails by Lord Huron — hey look, an album I actually discovered and came to love as an adult! The fact that I love Lord Huron's brand of folky horror/fantasy/western music that tell stories with characters should not surprise anyone. Also, if I had to describe my experience with schizophrenia in one song, I'd choose Meet Me in the Woods.

The Tragic Treasury by The Gothic Archies — Look. Hear me out. Is it a album based purely on A Series of Unfortunate Events? Yes. But. Is it also an album where I genuinely love every track and have genuinely been known to just throw it on shuffle? Yes. I mean I think of one lyric from this album, like, weekly. I swear it's not just ASOUE brainrot that makes me like it so much. If it'd ever gotten a vinyl release, I'd absolutely own it. I wish it had gotten one.

a low place at The Old Place by Old Earth — honestly this is probably only my favorite Old Earth album because it's the one that I was able to actually get on vinyl and being able to play that vinyl is so lovely. I mean, it's good, but so is everything by Old Earth. Then again, Less Words is my favorite single track by them and it is on this album. Look. All the Old Earth albums I've listed here are, at most, 20 minutes long. If you like ambient artsy indie folk with lyrics that are there more for the way they sound than their meaning, try one.

light shaped by Old Earth — god the lyrics to this one. Normally I don't like Old Earth for the lyrics but. "It gets old/then it's done" and "what if it's just some song that gets you home" and especially "I'm holding your arms/and you're holding my eyes/and I lie like the right thing to do" are all just so great. And so is the middle track with no lyrics.

... until they're called by Old Earth — have you ever heard an album so good that you a) just played the whole thing and danced to it in your basement nonstop for the full 12 minutes, and then b) wrote a poem about the experience? People talk about finding God, but dancing to that album was the moment I found athiesm. The beauty of us all being here for no reason, just feeling things and living and doing our best to make something beautiful out of it.

Two Torches, at a Place Where Three Roads Meet by Old Earth — I'll be honest, I don't have much to say about this one. They're just a really solid three tracks.

... Yeah okay I really like Old Earth. Don't judge me.

Thank you @cygninae and @thehistoryone for tagging me! I'll tag @ven10 (I'm surprised neither of the people who tagged me tagged you), @weirdthoughtsandideas (ditto), @70snasagay (hmmmm i wonder what you'll put), @cat-boy-tom, @thetreetzar, @buncoreclown, @notthatalex, @unfortunate-sapphic-disaster, and @roach-in-the-kitchen. No pressure, obviously!

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yannaryartside · 1 month

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In defense of the "I am sorry" sign

images by @drrav3nb

Been thinking about how I think their relationship got closed not despite the sign but because of it.

The "I'm sorry sign" is introduced by Carmy as a method of de-escalation of conflict in the middle of service, something that will allow the people involved to talk about the issues later. The issues are hurt feelings, unclear expectations, miscommunications, and other stuff that can happen when everybody is anxious and trying to go through service by the skin of their teeth. In the season finale, we actually see them use it in this context, but most of the season we feel they used it for things that they actually should be talking about, not just leaving for later.

The "later" part never comes. Across season 2, they used the sign to avoid discussing things they felt scared/guilty about. But, being fair, neither Carmy nor Sydney were ready to discuss what was coming between them. Carmy has depression, anxiety, and abandonment issues that he cannot even process, on top of a relationship that doesn't make him feel completely good, even if he doesn't know why because everything is so great. Sydney is jealous; we don't know if she has processed her feelings for Carmy yet. But she also was counting on him to guide her through this process, and she feels that if she fails, it will be on her, not his lack of leadership, or, yk, that she has never done anything remotely as difficult before. She is drowning in fear, and she wants some sort of support.

STOP Syd and Carmy were explosive/confrontative in expressing their frustration; Sydney is mostly implosive; she deals with her frustration in private, and it takes a lot to make her explode as the others do. She primarily deals with Carmy with bitter questions and sarcastic treatment (she is better than me), and Carmy responds with exasperated attempts to explain himself; he gets defensive the way we know he is used to defending herself in his family (fishes).

But the 'sorry sign' is actually something that they use to stop the escalation of their (personal) conflict. I think the moment they use it in "Bolognese" is a perfect example. They both use the "I am tired" explanation, which is kinda true, but they are not going to the "core" of the issue. But, if anything, they knew they were hurting each other by raising their voices and assigning blame, and they decided they didn't want to hurt each other in any way.

They applied the sorry sign to move to harmony, even with shaky bases. Is a noble intent. It is kind of amazing that by the end of this conversation the conflict is kind of left behind, and they can laught at stupid jokes again. They can be each other again, they can be what they are with each other, even if the pain/hurt is somewhat still there. After all, they are bussines partners only.

What I want to say, is that they could have easily antagonized each other this season and decided not too. I know it doesn't seem as much, but many couples struggle with this; they can take a "are you vs. me" attitude. Carmy and Sydney pause and decide to recognize the other's point of view and needs, and they set up expectations for the future. Mainly, Sydney is clear about the behaviors she will not tolerate, and Carmy expresses his intentions of not disappointing her and how important she and their relationship is to him. Idk if I am explaining it well; I like the fact that they prioritize their partnership, even if they don't know the true nature of it yet. Carmy has a lot of fault on this because, again, it feels like she is covering for him in many ways, but still, the intent is noble; there is love behind it.

#I just think that in this part of their relasionship #they were kind mature and healthy #at least they were not intentionally hurting each other #sydney adamu #the bear #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #sydney x carmy #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto #the bear meta #carmy x sydney #sydcarmy

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notashadowbutawave · 3 months

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i almost posted this on the true detective subreddit episode thread but thought better of it:

I've gotta say… I feel like a lot of complaints people are having about this season of the show don't pass muster objectively when held up against Season 1. Melodrama, "unrealistic" dialogue, complaining about being shown too much about people's personal lives and not caring about the characters…

There is so much unrealistic dialogue in season 1. The way Marty and Rust during their video interviews just come in talking about some big philosophical idea or "life wisdom" nugget in the middle of the episode (nobody talks like that IRL). The scene with Marty's daughter and the princess crown, for example. Marty cheating on his wife multiple times isn't like, objectively "more interesting" than Evangeline's sister having mental health issues or Liz being sexually promiscuous and a mess.

I've seen season 1 probably 10 times and I adore it but a lot of the angry comparisons people are making to S1 kind of just come off as straight up misogyny at a certain point. Like it rubs people the wrong way because it's women. Complaining about Liz and Evangeline going to the dredge without backup but when Rust and Captain America Marty Hart do something like that it's believable?

I don't think anyone's obligated to like the season by any means but you can just say you aren't feeling it as opposed to trying to make these apples-to-apples comparisons to season 1 that really don't hold water; I think people are just a lot more willing to accept this type of storytelling when it's about men and kind of has a fetishization/shame angle with masculinity in general. Like S1 is very masculine but it's also a love story. idk. I'm gay so I should probably stick to Tumblr for talking about this show, ya'll are wild.

----

idk watching people who are probably white dudes complain on Reddit that we are seeing too much "native culture" on the show strikes me as really icky.

i recognize that these are reddit comments and not like, actual media criticism but i think it says a lot about how people are conditioned to understand storytelling in general. like there's still so much fucking misogyny and white supremacy in our mainstream media and i realize a lot of people wouldn't say it out loud but i think they genuinely just find it exhausting that they're being asked to contemplate the interior lives of native alaskans and women by watching this show lmao

(that's not a value judgment about how well it is doing at depicting Iñupiat culture because i'm not the person who gets to make that judgment but it REALLY rubs me the wrong way that people can't STAND even seeing it depicted)

(i think the fetishization of the American south also has a lot to do with it, like people are very willing to accept the aesthetic style of the American south as a vehicle for crime/mystery/possibly supernatural storytelling because it really doesn't challenge any conceptions they might have about the genre) (it helps that Woody Harrelson and Matthew McCounaughey are native southerners with great acting talent and natural screen chemistry who really took Season 1 to a higher level, in no small part thanks to their uncredited script doctoring. with lesser actors I think the story falls flat as hell because you need them to sell a rich relationship and complex inner lives with their performances because SO MUCH of their relationship is subtextual) (so when people see these great acting performances in the context of a police procedural set in Louisiana i think they're very pre-conditioned to elevate it to an almost mythical status in the genre because it doesn't present TOO many challenges to a conventional worldview about who has power and agency in stories)

like I said i've watched season 1 probably 10 times. it's very good. but it does MANY of the same things that people are complaining about regarding season 4/night country in terms of showing a lot of relationship/sexual drama for the leads and their Tragic Pasts. they just don't like it. which is fine. i just think it's a disingenuous angle to approach criticism of the show.

like if any actor other than McConaughey were doing Rust's monlogues in S1 it would not have been very good because it would have come off like self-serious edgelord shit, which is what it actually was (pizzolatto sucks) before it ended up in the hands of competent producers and performers. instead it really comes off like a man who has suffered and developed this worldview genuinely, within himself, not as a way to wield power over others but to protect himself from harm.

anyway....

for my part, i wanna know what the fuck is up with the spirals and the bad CGI polar bear visions and i'm going to be disappointed if it's not just some massive red herring designed to freak people out a little because that's what we deserve.

but in terms of like, the characters' lives, i generally find them very interesting. the opening scene of episode 3 with annie genuinely moved me to tears. annie seems like a fucking cool person and i would love another flashback about her.

i love that liz is a fucking asshole who is constantly being forced to confront her own behavior as racist, self-centered, impulsive, etc.

i love that evangeline is a very lonely person just barely keeping it together. kali reis is putting on an amazing performance. also, for the record, i'm VERY gay.

i wanna know more and there are only 2 episodes left and i hope it sticks the landing so i can write a big actual essay about what it did well from a storytelling perspective!

gosh i just love serialized fiction on the television

#true detective season 4 #true detective night country #night country #true detective spoilers

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valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn · 4 months

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Episode 2 of What If Season 2 poked the Peggy hornet’s nest and did exactly what I thought it would.

So, for context, in this reality Yondu actually handed Peter Quill over to Ego when he was supposed to, and within just 6 months Ego was able to corrupt his son into a conqueror, so they invade Earth together. Peggy is director of SHIELD at the time, and she and Howard work together to assemble a proto-Avengers team to stop them. The team consists of Hank Pym, Bill Foster, T’Chaka, Thor, Wendy Lawson (who I think is from Captain Marvel), and… wait for it… the Winter Motherfucking Soldier.

Yes, for real.

And because I know you’re thinking it, the excuse given is that he is in the hands of the Russians during this time, so Peggy and Howard couldn’t possibly have known about it UwU. Anyway, when they see him there’s a super drawn-out moment where they both think they recognize him (and it’s while he still has the mask on, so while this probably wasn’t intentional I actually read that as yet another middle finger to Steve, as Peggy could apparently recognize Bucky even under his disguise while Steve couldn’t). And then, Howard says, I shit you not: “I'd heard the rumors, but even if they’re true, the man we knew is long-gone, Peg, and we have bigger fish to fry.” And then later in the episode, with no segway from that to this, there’s a scene where they’re all together and the Winter Soldier has his mask off, and actually speaks.

So, at least in this universe, Howard and Peggy are 100% aware that Bucky Barnes is in fact the Winter Soldier. Later on in the episode Howard attempts to get through to him, but only when it becomes a necessity to save the world (because he is about to kill Peter Quill while Hank is trying to convince him to turn on Ego), but it’s still pretty damning. And then at the end of the episode, rather than trying to rehabilitate him, they just let him go. Like, it’s not the same situation as Steve where he was out cold and unable to do anything, they could have taken Bucky in and tried to break his programming, but they didn’t. It’s left ambiguous what will happen to him after that, so it’s not like they sent him back to Hydra, but Hydra is still out there in this universe, so my hopes aren’t high.

TLDR; this episode attempts to handwave away the very strong possibility that the Howard and Peggy of the Prime Timeline knew what was happening to Bucky, but in doing so unintentionally made them look so much worse.

I don't... I can't even... WTF did I just read? (not you of course, I mean, what is wrong with Marvel?) 🤦‍♀️

So they use Bucky while brainwashed and/or still with Hydra's BS in his mind, and they don't even care to help him out after? They see a victim and they use him and then turn away from him, not caring about his well-being? And, I assume, Howard and Lady Brexit are still framed as good guys? And how are they any better than Hydra in that story?! The absolute nerve...

Once I read the spoilers a few days ago and saw they were going to have her as Director of SHIELD, I just knew they were going to absolve her of everything and never have her answer for any of her actions. And of course the only one who says he had "heard rumours" was Howard, not her. She's an angelic glorious being incapable of doing anything wrong. What in the absolute narrative protection is this...

Howard and Miss Brexit couldn't possibly know about Bucky... yeah, right. Except for the fact that they knew what Zola had done, because Steve told them, and they still willingly worked alongside him, even gave him a nickname. Oh Arnie, my beloved, wasn't it fun when you tortured Steve's best friend? Let's have some beer. I don't see how Miss "I shoot innocents when I'm jealous" Brexit could have recognized Bucky considering she didn't give a damn about him after Steve risked his own life against her wishes to save him, but apparently in this she can tell who he is even with a mask on? Damn girl, did you inject the serum in him yourself?

And I'm sorry but what is this... “I'd heard the rumors, but even if they’re true, the man we knew is long gone.” Excuse me? Oh, good enough to use but not good enough to save? How is the everloving hell is that even a line?! Oh my god, Marvel, just say you hate Bucky and go. I don't get it, what, he's the guy who ruins their beloved Steggy nonsense and they can't help themselves, they have to drag him through the mud for daring to be more important to Steve than Miss Brexit here? (And I say that as a non-shipper but holy crap, this is nuts.)

Not even in another timeline are these two somewhat redeemable. And Bucky is fucked up no matter what. Typical.

So the Infinity Saga had Stark as their golden boy and now it's Agent Brexit's time to shine... Will the Hero Cinematic Universe ever provide any heroes of narrative protection or are they going to choose the bad ones only? Oh, you're a soldier kidnapped, tortured and brainwashed? Go ahead and make amends, you monster. Oh, you willingly worked for the TVA and tortured and killed because you wanted to? Poor you, let us frame you as good and pat you on the back, you sweet thing.

Wow, I got mad in this one. Sorry. I have the Bucky feels right now 😜😂

#I'm so happy I'm not watching this series #anti peggy carter #mcu critical #what if spoilers #pro bucky barnes

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pacific-coast-hockey · 14 days

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Well, I did a corny post last year after the last home game about how much I appreciate the Cudablr community and I thought I'd do one again this year. It truly has been another year of good times on the internet and in person! However, a lot of this season was really colored by the kind of catastrophic depression I was dealing with from like mid-November to mid-March and it was pretty hard to live laugh love with these teams under those conditions. So I thought instead I'd do a bullet list of some meaningful moments to me this season:

taking @whoredeleau, @msmargaretmurry, and @kitebird-hockey to Sharks games this year and getting to see all of their reactions when the 1.800.injured ad comes up

additionally, taking Becs to a Cuda/Bakersfield Game and her watching one of the face offs with a short king line vs the Condors and bursting into laughter, saying "oh my god, it's just like Mighty Ducks 3!"

also kb being like ".....what is wrong with #3?" at a Sharks game and me having to explain like, oh that's Henry he does everything wrong but we love him anyway

wandering around the Tank before warm ups once, bored as hell, and recognizing @unbenchthekench from behind bc he was wearing a Kähkönen jersey and I was like no way anyone else on planet earth has that jersey. And it was him!

making kpop hearts with @18minutemajor at the All Star Classic at the players and falling in love with the Admirals Russian goalie, also the way the entire arena went apeshit for Shakir rolling up right before the end of the Skills events

going bananas with @bunnymcfoo when Shakir did his rookie lap and everyone around us is being like...who is that noodle call up....

also the Cuda Classroom game and the way Bunny and I both full body flinched when the kids started screaming

the number of times @tausendsorgen and I turned to each other during Cuda games going, "and in the middle of this stands Tanner Kaspick..."

honestly just the amount of dancing and singing in the stands I did this year...like in this economy we have to find our joy where we can, and sometimes that is singing and dancing along to 30 second clips of Avicii and Taylor Swift and Pitbull and Journey and "Fancy Like (Nikolai Knyzhov)"

and of course, not to be outdone, my besties Waldorf and Statler finding out the opening game next season is the weekend they're out of town and the ensuing debate I was treated to over whether or not Statler should skip the wedding

Weird year for me AND the Cuda, but not without impact or meaning, honestly. Maybe it's not exactly the same as last year, maybe the team vibes were weirder and the content was worse and I still don't know who Jack Thompson is and at this point I'm afraid to ask and I was struggling personally through it all, but it's still like. Idk it still meant something. I made beautiful new friends, I spent a lot of time with cherished old friends, I watched my flop team fail to connect their passes, and even when it was hard for me personally, me, Cuda, everyone, ee all still showed up. For me, Barracuda Disease: Year 3️⃣. We'll see what next year has in store!

#kaspershark.txt

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aesteraceae · 2 years

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2AM

Relationship: 3Racha (Chan, Changbin, Jisung)/fem reader

This fic was created for the @skzseasons may event!

Tags below the cut!

Word count: 7,142

Ao3 Link!

Tags: polyamory, songwriter & producer!reader, sub bang chan, sub Jisung, sub Changbin, dom reader, mentioned Chan/Changbin/Jisung, mommy kink, Noona kink, biting, nipple play, Changbin is a brat, semi-public sex (kind of, they're in a locked studio), voyeurism, foursome, 3racha is horny, dacryphilia if you squint, spanking, blowjobs, Praise kink, degradation, sadomasochism, face fucking, objectification, cum play, light pet play, edging, orgasm control, feminization

Notes: Mommy kinks are super fun to write, so I had a lot of fun with this one ^^

3racha's dynamic as a whole is so much fun, so it was a no-brainer to use them for this prompt.

If you enjoy this, please reblog it! It motivates me to write and I really enjoy hearing feedback, even if it's just an emoji or two <3

Tags: @sunnyville36

(Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!)

· · ────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The studio is pleasantly warm, the AC blowing hot air into the room to combat the chill of late fall.

Changbin lies over the arm of the couch, tapping out a beat on the leather cushions while he goes over the lyrics he'd written so far. His brow is furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, and you can tell he's frustrated. Jisung is sitting on the floor, back against the couch, obviously half asleep but still making a valiant effort at humming a melody.

Chan's hunched over his desk, clicking away at the audio files they'd recorded so far, and grunting softly every few minutes. His shoulders are tense, bunching up with stress and exhaustion, held tight like he'll collapse if he lets it go.

And you're in the middle of it all, lyrics sitting abandoned in the little notebook you brought.

The night had started well, ideas flowing easily, inspired by the changing season and all the metaphors that came with it.

But after a few hours the motivation slowly dwindled, and while you knew when to call it a day, "rest" doesn't seem to be in 3Racha's dictionary.

"It's getting late." You say, unlocking your phone to see that it's already well past 2 AM. The building was likely deserted by now, but of course it wasn't out of the ordinary for them to stay up this late.

Taking the opportunity to work with 3Racha had been an easy decision, but you really wished you'd known just how often they did this before you accepted.

Jisung snorts, obviously aware of the irony with the phrase "getting" late. You nudge him with your foot and he grins, stretching his arms above his head.

"It is late. And we've been working for quite a while." He says the words around a yawn, snuggling back into the couch like he planned to sleep right there on the floor.

"We've gotta get this finished, Ji," Changbin says, but he yawns soon after, and you know fatigue when you see it.

"You guys can leave, it's cool. Get some rest, it is pretty late."

Bang Chan, ever the leader. Jisung rises, moving to get his bag, but you put a hand on his shoulder.

"And I'm assuming you plan to stay here?"

Chan takes off his headphones, and you don't miss his wince at the ache of blood rushing back to his ears.

"Yeah, I have to finish this track. I won't be long."

You lean back on the couch, crossing your arms, and take in the situation. Jisung was eager to leave, eyes struggling to stay open, but he was obviously unwilling to leave Chan alone here.

Changbin was hyperfocused, still chasing a thread of inspiration that would ultimately lead him nowhere. You knew the feeling well, and it was easy to recognize.

He was most likely not going to leave until he finished the verse or fell asleep on the spot.

Or, unless you helped him relax.

Chan, however, was a completely different beast.

You'd worked with Chan before. While this was the first time with 3racha as a team, you often came to help Chan with lyrics or production, a fresh set of eyes when he got stuck.

You'd seen Chan like this. His eyes are bloodshot and drooping, blinking a bit too hard to be normal. His hands are shaking around the mouse, making the headphones clatter, and the more worrying part is that he doesn't even seem to notice.

"Okay," you clap your hands together, making Jisung jolt and Chan wince. You send them both an apologetic smile but carry on. "I don't think anyone's being productive right now."

Jisung shrugs, Changbin sighs, and Chan opens his mouth to protest.

"Nope, I'm hearing none of it, especially not from you. We are taking a break. I'm going to get water, and we're all going to think about things that aren't working for at least 20 minutes."

Chan still doesn't seem pleased, so you amend the statement. "It's that, or we

all

finish up work for tonight and go home to sleep. Those are the choices, pick one."

"There's water in the mini-fridge," Jisung adds, helpful, and you smile at him even as Chan glares.

Changbin seems hesitant, but he hands over the notebook when you hold out your hand for it.

Jisung's already put his phone and headphones away, so you move on to Chan.

He looks pissed.

"Noona, I really don't think this is necessary."

You just smile, "Ah, but that's the thing! It's not your decision to make. I know, it's a hard pill to swallow for you."

The tease was a little uncalled for, but it did get on your nerves sometimes. You didn't care when he did it for Changbin and Jisung, but when he directed his orders at you, it made you want to slap him in the face. Only a little, but still.

Chan scoffs, straightening up in the seat, squaring his shoulders.

"I'm not a child, I think I can figure out when I need a break or not."

You glare right back at him, "Your hands are shaking, Chan. When was the last time you had water or looked at something other than a screen?"

Chan opens his mouth and closes it again, and you can practically see him do the math in his head.

"Six hours," you inform him, taking his headphones and replacing them with a cool water bottle.

Jisung gives Changbin a bottle and Chan breaks with a sigh, untwisting the cap and drinking. You're handing him another bottle the moment he finishes it, and some of the tense energy seems to drain from the room.

"Good. 20 minutes starts now."

…-…-…-…-…-…-…

20 minutes did not work.

Chan lasts all of 5 minutes before he starts getting restless, rolling around in his chair and sighing dramatically as if you're going to give him attention if he does it loud enough.

At least Jisung and Changbin are well-behaved. They're curled up next to each other watching some nature documentary, one they offered to watch with Chan as well, but he refused.

"Chan, stop sighing like a princess trapped in a tower. What's your problem?"

Chan looks up, caught red-handed, and you just raise an eyebrow.

"I feel better now. Can I please work? I have an idea."

"Write it down. I'm not giving the headphones back for another 15 minutes, so you're shit out of luck there."

Maybe you were being mean, overstepping a boundary or something, but Chan doesn't blow up at you. Instead, he pulls out a pad of sticky notes and obeys, writing something out and stocking it onto the screen of his monitor.

"Good job. That wasn't hard, was it?"

You're just teasing, but Chan's eyes widen and his ears go pink. You have to break through the wave of 'that's adorable' that floods your system to respond, but you're fairly certain it doesn't show on your face.

Your tiny tiny crush on Bang Chan, (and Changbin and Jisung, for that matter) was irrelevant right now. He was probably blushing because you embarrassed him, because you just spoke to him like a dog.

Oops.

Instead of something annoyed, however, Chan just says, "Thank you." And turns around in the chair, playing something on his phone again.

... Huh.

Chan didn't seem angry, or annoyed, or even like he was going along with the teasing. He seemed sincere.

You feel eyes on the back of your neck and look back to see Changbin and Jisung watching the exchange. Changbin's giving you a knowing look, one far more suggestive than you'd expected to ever see from him.

Jisung's trying to hold back laughter, pressing his face against Changbin's shoulder.

"What?"

Jisung snickers, quickly progressing into full-bodied laughter, and Changbin can't help but join in.

Chan, however, is fuming, ears practically glowing red, though you can't tell if it's embarrassment or anger.

"Could you two not be insufferable for ten minutes?" He hisses, carefully avoiding your gaze.

"What? What's funny?"

"Nothing!"

"Chan's just being a sub."

"Changbin, for fucks sake!"

Chan looks just about ready to punch Changbin in the face, glaring and huffing, and this is the opposite of what you wanted.

"Alright, everyone relax, Jesus Christ."

Jisung and Changbin's laughter dies down and Chan looks more mortified than angry now, which was only a little better.

"Okay. I'm confused? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, noona, you didn't do anything. Chan's just being horny, that's all."

Oh. Oh.

Sometime in the last few minutes, Jisung has shifted from beside Changbin to on his lap, and Changbin's drawing little patterns on his stomach.

Oh.

You... You might have missed something important.

"I can... I can go? I don't- um, I'm not sure what you've all got um, between you so I think I'll just... Go. Yeah."

Now you're the one blushing, finally putting together all the pieces you'd just brushed off as them being close. The little glances, jokes you didn't understand...

You needed to leave. Now. Maybe then you'd keep some of your dignity and not look like a complete idiot, or worse, a creep.

"Noo, noona!" Jisung whines, sitting up a little to reach for you. He looks small like this, wrapped in Changbin's arms, which is just the weirdest fucking thought, oh my god.

"None of you know how to explain things," he huffs, glaring at Chan, who's now got his face hidden in his hands.

"Okay, listen. It's not weird, yeah? If we thought it was we would have asked you to leave ages ago. But we didn't, so it's not weird." One of his hands gestures wildly as he speaks, the other one held securely in Changbin's grasp.

"Chan isn't weirded out by you either. He's embarrassed because what you said turned him on, and that was funny to us because we've had to listen to him pine over you for months."

Chan lets put a mortified groan, and you sit back down.

"You're the worst friends ever, for the record. Fucking horrible."

"You're the one who got all hot and bothered over a little praise, that's not our fault."

Chan looks up and you think he's actually going to punch Changbin or something, but he catches your eye and stops in his tracks.

You just stare at each other for a while, time slowing to a stop as you take in his expression. He's embarrassed, sure, cheeks almost glowing with heat, but there's also something bright in his eyes, like anticipation or hope.

"What do you want me to do about that?"

You ask, voice barely above a whisper. Chan gasps, his grip tightening on the armrest. "I- what? You don't have to- I'm sorry, this is so weird, you don't have to do anything!"

Why was that so

cute? Chan's words should be making you feel even more awkward, maybe even annoyed by his evasiveness, but you can't help the endeared smile on your face as he rambles out apologies and excuses.

Your voice is more of a purr when you speak next, cutting off another apology. "That's not what I asked, Chan. What do you want me to do to you?"

He literally whimpers, covering his face with a hand and pulling one of his legs up to his chest.

"Damn, noona. You're good at this."

You have an idea.

It was probably stupid, and might get you kicked out for real, but you're already here, it can't get much weirder.

"Hey," you start, turning away from Chan for the time being to address Changbin and Jisung.

"Has it just been Chan pining over me, or you two as well?"

Changbin seems startled by the question, cheeks flushing, but Jisung grins. "Yeah. We fuck a lot, you know, and we'd always fantasize about if you were there, telling us what to do."

You blink at them, waiting for the outraged protests, but they never come. Changbin's pretending to watch the documentary again, cheeks pink, and Jisung looks somewhat annoyed rather than embarrassed.

"Huh. Then, are you both okay with doing that now? I have an idea."

Jisung jumps off of Changbin's lap, moving to stand in front of you like an obedient dog.

Changbin puts down his phone and nods, his previous cocky attitude gone as if it had never been there.

"Good. And Chan? Are you okay with this? You can call it off at any time, any of you can."

He looks up, confused at first at being addressed, but he nods after a second.

"Okay. Let's use stoplight safe words, yeah? Green for good, yellow to slow down and talk, and red to stop." Jisung bounces on his heels, impatient and growing more so by the second, so you decide to hurry along.

"Chan, get up for a second."

He blinks at you, confused, but eventually his brain catches up and he stands, stepping toward you.

"Come sit on my lap, honey."

You take Chan's spot, patting your spread thighs for him to settle down on.

"What? But- I'm... I'm heavy." His voice is small, confused and scared, and you can't help but coo at him. "Shh, honey. Just follow directions, I'll worry about everything else."

Something melts in Chan's expression, and after a moment of hesitation, he walks back over, slowly lowering himself on your lap. He doesn't fully sit, hovering above you on his knees, so you hold his hips and guide him down.

He gasps at the contact, face somehow getting redder, and he looks away.

"God, you're so pretty when you blush like that."

He immediately goes to deny it, but you just shush him.

"Let's lay down a couple ground rules, yeah?" You direct it at Changbin and Jisung as well, who jump to attention.

"Number 1, none of you can touch yourselves or each other without permission." Jisung pouts but doesn't protest, so you continue.

"Number 2, if I tell you to do something, you do it. If I say you are something, like pretty, or cute, you just accept it and don't deny or protest."

Chan looks back at you, outraged, but you level him with a warning look. "These are in effect now, unless someone has an issue with them."

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, eventually sighing deeply and looking away again.

"Number 3, I want to hear every little sound you make. Every gasp, every moan, every

scream.

I'm taking full advantage of this room being soundproof. If I catch you muffling your noises, I'll stop touching you. Understand?"

Changbin curses under his breath, and you smile.

"Okay. I might add rules later on if I deem it necessary, but that's all for right now. Any questions?"

"What should we call you? Noona, or something else, like mommy?"

You think the question over for a moment, imagining how the boys might say both names, around moans or through tears.

"Either one. Mommy or noona, nothing else."

Changbin raises his head, a challenge in his tone. "And what if we don't? Will you punish us?"

There's a tease in his voice, something condescending and rude, but you just smile at him.

"If you want to go ahead and find out, be my guest. It'll be Jisung giving you your punishment until I finish up with Chan here, so I suggest you get it out of your system now, before my hands are free."

He curses again, louder this time, and you blow him a kiss.

"Alright. Let's get started, then."

You take Chan by the hips again and pull him closer, chest to chest, and ignore his yelp.

"You two, get on the floor by my feet and start getting each other off. Do whatever you need, but you're not allowed to take clothes off, and you need to ask me if you want to cum."

They jump on the opportunity, Jisung practically pulling Changbin down to the floor with him and into a kiss.

Sloppy moans and sighs quickly fill the room, so you turn your attention back on Chan. His dick is pressed right against your stomach, so close you can feel it twitch.

"Can I kiss you, honey?"

Chan nods, tongue darting out to lick his lips. You hold his jaw as you lean in, keeping him still as you press your lips to his.

He reciprocates as much as he can with his jaw held so tight, little gasps and sighs escaping every so often as you deepen the kiss, guiding his lips apart and sucking his tongue into your mouth, mapping out every inch of the wet space.

When you finally pull away Chan looks wrecked, tongue hanging out of his mouth for a few seconds, like he'd forgotten what to do with it without you there to guide him.

Fuck, this was going to be

fun.

If Chan got this overwhelmed from just a kiss, you can't wait to see what happens when you actually touch him.

"Fuck, hyung, you're so hot. Noona, you're making him such a slut already." Changbin moans, fingers tangled in Jisung's hair while they grind on each other, both turned so they can see what you're doing to Chan.

"I'm not a slut!" Chan snaps, ducking his head into your shoulder, and you can't help but laugh.

"But you are, Channie." Changbin's voice is low, almost a growl, only getting deeper every time Jisung rolls his hips. "Such, fuck, such a little whore." Jisung adds, far less coherent than Changbin seems to be.

"All noona did was kiss you and you're already shaking. Is he hard, noona?"

Chan's whining against your shoulder, shaking his head every so often. "N-no, I'm not a whore!" He says, voice shaking, and worry floods your system. "Chan, color?"

He gasps, choking back a sob, "Green. I'm green, I like it, just- it's a lot."

You nod, securing an arm around his waist as your other hand combs through his hair, gentle and grounding. You stay like that for a moment, letting him breathe, and once he doesn't seem on the verge of tears anymore, you tighten your grip on his hair and pull his head up.

"Tell them, honey. Are you hard from just a kiss?" Tears spring to his eyes again but you can tell it's from embarrassment this time as he raises a hand to cover his face. "Yes. I'm- fuck, I'm so fucking hard."

Changbin groans and Jisung lets out a delicious little whimper.

"Good boy. You're so good for me." You praise, sliding both hands down to his hips. You squeeze, gently at first and then harder, making sure he can feel your nails digging into his skin. "Mommy, fuck!" He hisses, back arching, trying to press further into your hands.

There's something about the way he says

mommy, desperate and shaky, like the word is unfamiliar to his jaw but forces itself out anyway, purely out of wanting to please you. You can't help but groan, using your grip on his hips to grind him against you.

Chan gasps, grabbing at your arm as you repeat the motion, rolling your hips up to meet him.

"Jesus Christ, Jisung,

fuck-"

You glance up, just in time to watch Changbin toss his head back, falling back on his elbows as Jisung grinds on him, both hands pinching at his nipples.

He shaking, gasping for air, and you can see his thighs tensing, see the euphoria slowly spreading across his face.

"Jisung, stop right now."

Your voice is sharp, and Jisung stops, more out of being startled than actually wanting to obey.

Changbin whines, reaching for Jisung's hips to make him move again, but you snap your fingers.

He pauses, staring at you with a mixture of frustration and annoyance.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. What did I tell you to do if you're about to cum?"

Jisung climbs completely off of him, trying to hide the smile on his face.

"Fucking- stupid fucking rule-"

He cuts himself off on a groan, too embarrassed to touch himself with you staring him down like this but almost frustrated enough to do it anyway.

You heave a deep sigh and kiss Chan again, tapping his thigh once to signal him to get up.

He does, even if you need to steady him a bit.

"I hadn't even started with Chan yet, so you get to have

me give your punishment."

Changbin sits up, sensing the dangerous edge in your voice. It's intoxicating, seeing the fear and excitement in his eyes, knowing that you're the reason for it.

"And because you interrupted Chan's turn with your disobedience, you'll get him off while I punish you."

Changbin's breath hitches, and you smile.

You end up sitting on the couch with him over your knee, pants and boxers pulled down to his ankles while you rub small circles against the skin, just to see him squirm.

Jisung kneels in front of you, kissing and biting at his thighs, scratching his nails against the soft skin. He was excited when you asked him to help punish Changbin, but if you were reading Jisung right he wouldn't be well behaved for very long.

That was fine, though; You liked a challenge.

Chan's sitting next to you, petting Changbin's hair as he waits for your cue to start fucking his mouth.

"I'm going to spank you until you can make Chan cum."

Changbin perks up, glancing at Chan's dick by his face with anticipation.

"But, Chan will be fucking your mouth. You'll go at whatever pace he wants, or whatever pace I tell him to go at. Do you understand?"

Changbin noticeably deflates, swallowing hard. He'd underestimated your intensity, but you'd make sure to correct that mistake.

He nods, small, more of a shift really, and you smack his thigh. He jumps, snapping his head back to look at you, outraged. "Verbal answers, Changbin. Do you understand?"

"Fuck, yes! Jesus Christ."

You can't help but roll your eyes, grabbing him by the hair to guide him onto Chan's cock.

"Such a mouth on you, Jesus. Let's hope you're just as good at giving head as you are at mouthing off."

"He is," Chan whispers, eyes already closed as Changbin sinks onto his cock, hands scrabbling for purchase on the couch.

"Grab his hair, guide him. Just take what you want, baby, use him like a toy."

Changbin whines, thighs pressing together, and Jisung laughs, prying them back apart.

He slides between them, lazily jerking his cock while he sucks another hickey into his hip.

"Oh, do you like that?" You dig your fingernails into Changbin's ass, smiling when he jolts. "Do you like the idea of Chan using you like a toy? Having him fuck your mouth like you're just a Fleshlight, nothing more?"

"Fuck- god that's hot, shit." Chan groans, guiding Changbin's mouth in slow, deep thrusts.

His eyes are glued to Changbin's face, refusing to leave even when you lean over to kiss his neck.

"Binnie here's got a thing for being treated like an object," Jisung says, ever the helpful one, and you reach over to run a hand through his hair as a reward.

"Once, I used him as a footrest while I wrote lyrics. He was so hard afterward, all I had to do was pinch his nipples before he came."

Changbin groans, kicking Jisung with surprising force, and you wind your hand back and bring it down on his ass with a sharp

smack.

He gasps hard enough that Chan lets him up to breathe, stilted moans and whimpers at the leftover pain.

"Plus, he's got the pain tolerance of an ant."

You smack him again, a little lighter this time, but he still flinches away.

"You're so helpful, Jisung. Thank you, honey."

Changbin scoffs, glaring back at Jisung. "Kiss ass."

Another smack and all traces of smugness leave him, replaced by pain and pleasure.

"You talk so

much.

Get back to doing what you're good for, bitch."

Chan helps him back onto his dick, moving faster this time, and you make a little game of matching your slaps to the soft noises he makes.

He's sobbing after a few minutes, nails digging crescent-shaped bruises into Chan's thighs as his pace picks up again, now fully fucking his mouth. Chan's head is thrown back, one of his legs pulled up onto the couch for more leverage to thrust his hips back into Changbin's mouth.

Jisung joins in, smacking Changbin's thighs, right over every hickey and bruise.

Changbin gargles something, sounding urgent, and you pull his head off of Chan's dick.

"Gonna cum!" He shouts, tongue rolling out to still lick Chan's cock even with your hand in his hair.

Jisung grins, somewhat feral, and he leans in and

bites Changbin's hip, hard.

"Oh my god, oh my god- Fuck!"

"Don't you dare cum without permission, slut. Make Chan cum first, can't you do the one thing I asked?"

Changbin starts again with renewed fervor, licking and sucking while Chan gasps and moans above him, startled by the sudden change in enthusiasm.

"Oh my god-" He gasps, tossing his head back against the couch, and you can't resist pulling him into a kiss.

He tastes like sweat and heat as he moans against your mouth, high and desperate. You can't focus enough to keep spanking Changbin so Jisung takes over for you, whispering things in his ear and biting anywhere he can reach.

You don't pay him any mind, too preoccupied with Chan, with his masterful tongue even as he comes undone. "Please, mommy, I'm close," he pants, lips brushing against yours as he speaks and you don't want to pull away to give him permission, so you just kiss him harder, intense and

hot, and Chan seems to take the hint.

He groans, hips bucking up and shoving his dick deeper into Changbin's mouth, making him gag and moan around it. Chan pulls him off then, letting his head rest on his thigh while he rides it out. You reach for chan's dick, sliding your hand over it even as Chan whimpers from the overstimulation.

"So fucking hot. Did you swallow, Binnie?" You turn to him, hips still grinding into nothing, mouth sealed shut.

Jisung moves to whisper into Changbin's ear, "Go on, show her. Show noona what you like to do with Chan's cum."

Changbin leans up on shaking arms and kisses Chan, wet and sloppy, and oh.

Changbin didn't swallow, he held chan's cum in his mouth, and now he's kissing Chan with it.

Chan whines into the kiss, lapping up the cum from Changbin's tongue like a puppy, even making sure to lick up the excess that escapes their kiss.

"Holy fucking shit." You whisper, entranced, and Jisung climbs onto the couch next to you.

You don't pay him any attention as he starts pulling your clothes off, still too focused on Changbin and Chan, who've now started grinding down against each other. It's too good of a show to chastise them for it, and you suppose they both earned the reward.

Jisung bites your shoulder,

hard,

And you yelp. "Hey! You've ignored me this entire time, noona. I've been patient, I even helped! They'll entertain each other, please, I want you to touch me."

And just like that, your attention couldn't be further from the kissing pair next to you.

Jisung is flushed and pouting, annoyance bright in his eyes, and you can't help but feel a little guilty. That's alright, you'd make it up to him.

"Oh, you poor little thing," You push him back against the couch and straddle his hips, dragging your wetness over his aching dick. You're not sure when he got naked, probably before he undressed you, but you were too preoccupied to notice either action.

Now, though, it was hard to focus on anything other than your nakedness, how the warm air makes your nipples ache, and how perfect Jisung's dick feels against your cunt. He's not the biggest, smaller than Chan but a little bigger than Changbin, and suddenly your hit with the image of the three of them, lining their dicks up and checking which one was biggest.

Chan won for biggest, but you had to admit that Jisung's looked absolutely delectable. It curved upwards towards his belly button, decently thick and veiny, and you can't decide if you want it in your mouth or your cunt more.

Jisung reaches for your hips, not guiding your motions but supporting them, just looking for something to hold on to while you're taking him apart.

"Shit, please. I'm not gonna last long to begin with, please, I need you, noona."

You smile, bracing a hand on his chest to get more leverage to grind on him, "Aw, what an easy little pet you are. Are you gonna cum just from me grinding my pussy against you? Is that all it's gonna take?"

He gasps, turning his head away to try and hide his face in the couch cushions.

He's so pretty like this, cheeks a pretty pink, and you can tell your moans are getting to him. He's twitching against you, pulsing, and you're sure that you could feel his heartbeat if you focused enough. "Please, noona- I'm not gonna last, please!"

"So pathetic, I can't even fuck you properly without you cumming on the spot. Fine, cum, I'll just fuck you through it."

You finally reach for his dick and line it up with your pussy, sinking down in one smooth movement.

Shit.

You can't even tease him like this, entire body so insanely sensitive that you have to take a breather. It was easy to ignore the way you soaked through your panties while watching them, always more focused on dominating, but now, finally being stimulated after what must have been an hour now, it's overwhelming.

"You're so tight, oh my god-"

Jisung looks like he's just seen God, head thrown back and hips twitching, just begging you to move.

Some of the teasing spirit returns to you as you slowly start to ride him, long, deep strokes keeping you both on the edge.

"Fuck, so good. And to think, I'll only get it for a second because you'll cum so soon. Really a shame."

Jisung shakes his head even as you feel him twitch inside of you, watching his abs tense with the force of his upcoming release.

"Don't deny it, slut. You're going to cum, I can feel it. Do it, I want to feel it fill me up, I want to watch you whine when I fuck you through it."

Jisung moans, back arching, and his hips snap up once, twice, and-

You don't do this enough, you decide as Jisung cums inside you, sobbing and loud, holding onto your hips for dear life.

"Good boy." You keep riding him, shuddering at the wet slide and the absolutely obscene noises it makes.

"Fuck, look. Chan, Binnie, come look." You lean over Jisung, caging in his head with your arms. He takes the opportunity to pull one of your nipples into his mouth, which is not helping your attempts at being coherent. Changbin squeezes your ass, spreading your cheeks to get a better view of where your pussy takes in Jisung's cock.

"Can I touch, mommy?"

You can almost feel Chan vibrating with energy behind you, but your voice is so shot you can't do anything but nod.

He leans over your back and kisses your neck, almost reverent in his touch, and you feel that familiar curl in the pit of your gut.

The wet slide of Jisung's dick inside of you, his desperate moans directly in your ear, Changbin kneading your ass, and chan's lips on your neck, it's all too much to handle.

You feel a scream building in your throat and muffle it by pressing your lips against Jisung's, speeding up and swallowing down every whine he lets out.

Changbin snakes an arm around your hip and draws tight circles around your clit and you're done for, thighs clamping down around Jisung's hips and sinking fully onto him, scratching at his shoulders for something to hold on to.

When the world stops spinning you sit up, rising up off of Jisung and back into Chan's arms. He cuddles up against you while Changbin helps Jisung up, and you notice the wet spot underneath him.

"Oops. Sorry about your couch, Chan."

He just shrugs, burrowing deeper into your shoulder, and you hold him tighter. "This has to happen again. Immediately."

Changbin muses, the most lucid of them, already cleaning Jisung up a bit with a towel.

"Give me like 3 days to remember how my legs work and then I'm down," Jisung says, words still slurring together.

"I give it 48 hours, tops, before he's sending you nudes." Changbin smiles, approaching you with a fresh towel. You let him clean you up, unsticking from Chan for a moment. His touch is gentle and grounding, and you definitely feel less sticky when he's finished.

"Thank you, honey. You've got this aftercare thing down, huh?"

You can't help kissing his cheek before he turns to Chan, smiling at the way he flushes pink.

"I do it a lot. These two turn into liquid after they cum, so I usually do it."

You just hum, standing up to retrieve a towel of your own.

Chan manages to get Changbin into his lap while he cleans him up, so you take the opportunity.

He jumps when you start kissing down his back, but he doesn't stop you.

Chan does whine a little when you have to turn Changbin around, but he's quickly sated with a kiss.

Changbin looks confused as you clean up the sweat and cum off of him, but you pause when you see that he's still hard. He notices the moment you do, turning his head to the side and hiding his face with a hand.

"Did you not cum?" You ask, massaging one of his thighs, and he shakes his head, just a little.

"I got distracted by Chan, I wanted to make him cum, and then you were fucking Jisung and I sort of... Forgot?"

You put down the towel and sink down to your knees, smiling up at Changbin's blushing face.

"Well, that just won't do, will it? I didn't edge you that hard just to not see your face when you cum."

He looks down at you, startled, and you just smile, licking a long stripe up the length of his dick. He gasps, head falling back, and you can't help but laugh a little.

"You- you really don't have to, I'm okay." You smack his thigh, smiling again when he winces.

"Binnie, you earned this," you whisper, pulling one of his thighs up and over your shoulder.

"You took your punishment so well, and you took such good care of Chan and Jisung for me. You've earned a good, hard orgasm, and I'm going to make sure you get it."

"Really, it's okay. You don't have to worry about me. I've gone without cumming before, I'll be fine."

"Changbin, I want to make you cum. Can I?"

There's something hesitant but hopeful in his eyes as he says,

"Okay."

His voice is timid and low, and you wrap your lips around his tip.

Changbin wasn't the biggest, but he made up for what he lacked in length with thickness. There's a distinct satisfaction with having him in your mouth, full, stretching your lips wide.

He breaks out in full-body shivers when you reach the base, hands fluttering around for a moment before he decides on putting them on his thighs, back arching with pleasure.

You trail a hand up to his chest, cupping one of his pecs just to hear him whimper.

His thighs are shaking, and you can tell he's trying not to fully pull you into him, you can tell he's holding back.

"What is it, Binnie? You're shaking like a leaf."

He turns away, caught red-handed.

"I- it's nothing, I'm sorry."

That's bullshit and you both know it, so you turn your head to press kisses against his thigh.

"Tell me, honey. I just want to make you feel good."

The muscle jumps under your lips, still on edge, and you soothe him with a soft squeeze.

"I... It's- it's embarrassing." Changbin's face is fully buried in his hands now, bright red, and you hold back a smile to make sure he doesn't feel mocked.

"I think at this point we can get past a little embarrassment, yeah? I mean, your dick was just in my mouth."

He nods and takes a deep breath, finally peeking an eye out to look at you.

"You... Um, can you... Could you humiliate me?" His words are barely above a squeak but you can still understand him, and you smile.

"Of course, honey. But I was doing that earlier, and you didn't get like this about it. What else do you want me to do?"

He pulls one of his legs up to his chest and hides against it before he answers. "Can you, like... Call me girly things? I mean, like- treat me like a girl? I know it's weird, I'm so sorry!"

You coax his leg back down and rise up to meet him on the couch, keeping his thigh over your shoulder so he ends up almost bent in half. He yelps at the new position but you don't pay him any mind, instead leaning down to whisper in his ear.

"Ah. You want me to treat you like a little whore, huh? A slutty little girl?"

The reaction is immediate and oh so satisfying. Changbin gasps and his cock twitches against your leg, eyes sliding shut.

"Y-yeah..." His voice is barely more than a whine, shaky and soft, begging for something you're all too willing to give.

"Does my baby girl want mommy to touch her nipples?"

Changbin shudders, eyes slipping closed, and he can only manage a nod.

"Use your words, slut. Tell me, tell me how much you want it."

"Please," he whines, barely audible, reaching for your shoulder.

"Please what? I can't read your mind."

He huffs, frustrated, and you just smile at him while he works out what to say.

"Please touch my nipples, mommy. Please, I need it."

You lean down and wrap your lips around one of them, pinching the other, and Changbin

sobs.

"Mommy!" He gasps, burying a hand in your hair while you bite and suck, making his back arch and hips buck with every flick of your tongue.

"God, I love how you sound. Keep moaning like that for mommy, okay?"

You can see tears in Changbin's eyes as he nods, mouth opening around another desperate whine.

Changbin's writhing by the time you finally pull away from his nipple, lips bitten red and cheeks flushed.

"You're so pretty like this, all flushed and desperate for me."

You wrap a hand around his cock, rubbing circles on the tip, and he practically chokes on a moan. "Mommy please, please make me cum, I need it," you muffle his begging with your mouth, digging your nails into his thigh while you jerk him off, swallowing up his desperate moans.

He throws his head back after a moment, chest heaving with effort, and you pull back to look at him properly.

He's flushed pink from head to toe, legs shaking, hips bucking up into your hand with what little leverage they have. He's

loud, louder than he ever was before, whining and moaning at anything you do, even if it's just a heated look.

He's desperate for you, and the feeling is almost enough to drive you insane.

"Is my little girl going to cum? Do you want to cum for mommy?"

Changbin sobs, loud and needy, voice shaking, "please, please let me cum, mommy!"

"I'm going to count down from 3, okay? When I get to 1, you can cum."

Changbin whimpers but nods, eager to please you, to follow orders.

"Three,"

You speed up your strokes, leaning over to bite hickeys into his neck and shoulders.

"Two,"

Changbin sobs, scratching bright red lines into your back as he braces himself, that heat threatening to explode.

"One."

Changbin wails, thrashing like a wild animal as cum coats your fingers, sobbing and shivering as you stroke him through it.

Gently, you take his leg off of your shoulder and place it back down, retrieving a towel to clean you both up.

He's still jittery when you finish, shaking with aftershocks every so often, and you smile as you snuggle up beside him, pulling him up against your chest.

Jisung had long since fallen asleep, not even stirring with how loud Changbin was, but Chan was still awake, so he snuggles in closer to you as well.

"Thank you."

"What for?" You reach up to run a hand through his hair, resting your head on his shoulder.

"All of this. Helping us relax." You raise an eyebrow and he laughs, sheepish, "Alright, helping

me relax. It means a lot."

Chan's voice is soft, even a bit nervous, and it makes your heart rate spike a little even with how tired you were. "Of course. This was really good, 10 out of 10."

He snorts, but there's still something distant in his eyes.

"Alright, what is it?"

Chan breaks almost immediately, "Okay, just- you don't have to."

"Respectfully, you couldn't force me to do anything."

"Right. Well, all I'm saying is that I get like that... Decently often. And this... This helped. Not even just the sex, you telling me to relax and making me do it. It took away the internal stuff of thinking I should be doing more, because I can't. It's just... It's nice. So, if you're up for it, could we do this again? Or even regularly, if you want?"

Instead of an answer, you reach up and press your lips together.

"Stupid Channie," you smile against his lips, "As if someone could deny you three?"

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textfromthelookout · 2 months

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Did you hear of the news?

I have. :(

Everyone else has their tributes so, here, a summary of my experience with Dragon Ball.

I was in fourth grade art class. A kid had the February 2005 issue of Shonen Jump, back when Shonen Jump was still physically printed here. I recognized Atem on the front cover because the Blockbuster around the corner from our house had DVDs (I think they were DVDs and not VHSs then since I distinctly remember it having a menu and special features) of some of the later episodes of Duelist Kingdom and my brother and I watched them on repeat. So I was like oh, hey, what's this? They make books of that stuff? I don't remember the conversation but the kid ended up giving me that issue, and I took it home with me.

There were a LOT of significant, groundwork things happening in that issue, now that I think about it. We were just beginning to see Sanji truly in action against Pearl. The Dark Tournament was in it's early stages still with Roto fucking around and finding out against Kurama. Sakura shears off her hair in a move that rearranged sexualities the world over. The reason Atem was on the cover was because Yu-Gi-Oh Millennium World was just debuting its first and second chapter. Bleach wasn't even serialized yet. And Dragon Ball, of course, was also there, about a hundred and fifty chapters ahead of everybody else.

Keep in mind that this was my first experience with manga, period. So my very first experience with Dragon Ball opened on this:

and ended on this:

Yeah. Truth be told, at the time Yu Yu Hakusho piqued my interest more than Dragon Ball (a guy fighting with plants? how creative!) but I never did forget these chapters. I thought the art style was so different from the others.

At some point after this, probably between several months and a year and a half, the TV happened to be on one evening when Toonami was airing Dragon Ball Z. Oh hey, I said, I recognize that art, I know those characters. So I hung around and watched some of episode 281. Two things about watching that episode stick with absolute crystal clarity in my mind to this day. Firstly: Buu choking Vegeta out with his arm freaked me the FUCK out as a child. I could not tell you why I had a fear reaction to it but hey, there you go. The second is this:

Specifically I remember 'You died once. If anything happens to you now, you won't exist anymore. There'll be nothing I can do to bring you back.' Not precisely word for word over the years, but Schemmel's tone of voice on this particular lineread. If I had to guess I'd say it was because at that point in my life, uh, death was kinda permanent? So wait, what do you mean died ONCE. Doesn't that apply to everyone?

This still wasn't enough to get me super invested in it though, it just didn't seem like something that would appeal to me that much. So a couple years go by, I don't think about it all that much, and then of course, TFS hits the scene and drops DBZ Abridged. So you know. As a shithead middle schooler with a shithead sense of humor I thought it was the best damn thing since sliced bread. (My biggest character flaw is that I still think a lot of Season 1 is genuinely funny)

And that was really the extent of my interaction with the franchise for the next several years. Say what you will about DBZA but they did manage to put it all together such that someone who had a nonexistent concept of what the original context was could grok it with not a lot of effort. Some time in high school, I think I was around 15, I decided to bite the bullet and read all the manga, as much to increase the funny factor of DBZA as sheerly for the sake of being able to say I had. Stick it to the other weebs, y'know. Now they can't say I didn't know anything about good anime. This was unfortunately at a time when all that was available online were dirty poor-quality scans and questionable translations, but read it I did. I went 'yep, that sure is about what I expected', and proceeded to get on with my life. GT came and went, I looked up and saw Battle of Gods coming out and went 'oh hey that's still a thing huh', kinda was peripherally aware of all the divisiveness of Super as it was happening, didn't really pay it much attention, just stuck to DBZA and quite a lot of wiki-ing.

And then, this time of year about three years ago now, in the middle of conversation with @prophecydungeon, Dragon Ball somehow came up. Something to do with 'Even though I'm not hugely into DBZ's story or whatever Toriyama does have some great character designs' (yes I was referring to Vegeta and Future Trunks at the time, no i will not stop being predictable, yes i am a parody of myself). They eventually brought up the DBS Broly movie and said, and i quote: 'that was a solid 1.5h of unbelievably fun and wacky animation'. Having seen the Gogeta vs Broly part of it on twitter and been like 'damn that animation's kinda off the hook actually, good for them good for them', my response was to be like. Oh word? I've got a spare hour and a half to kill, sure, fuck it, why not, time to watch DBS Broly.

I think that movie was precision crafted to hit me in the hyperfixation, if we're being honest. Opening on a solid 20 minutes of Lore and Worldbuilding and then having most of the rest of the runtime being mindless slobberknocker fun by way of some of the hardest animation flexes ever? I was done for.

In summation. I have been aware of Dragon Ball for a lot of my life, in that its presence was pervasive and enduring as I grew up. I may have been late to the game of actually wholeheartedly enjoying it, but enjoy it I do. Dragon Ball is the roots of a vast tree of anime, and in reading it I began to understand why that is. I respect it for that, and I love it for that. My current fixation may have shifted, but as far as time devoted to one individual thing goes... it took me a year and a half to watch my way through all of the anime and read all of the manga. ALL of it. So there's something good in there, I'd say.

#rip to a legend #text from the mod #tangentially related: i am not actually dead #it's just that between school and my job and the pirate brainrot #(the previous four months of which was feverishly consumed with a 16k word project)#i have had neither time nor impetus to make dragon ball funnies #there is also the fact that my stupid autism brain is still fuming over the website changes #that have fucked up the Aesthetique of the text posts and made them much more annoying to get in a usable form #thus adding steps to what was a simple and comfortable process #and aforementioned idiot dumb brain has not stopped pitching a bitch fit over the inconvenience.#i know it's a stupid hangup. believe me i am fully aware. but there is so little i can do about it #so i am sorry about my long absence. i really truly am.#especially to the asks that have been chillin in my inbox for all this time now #it's just that they're interesting questions that deserve me giving 100% of my brainpower to them ya feel #i want to devote appropriate attention to these little funnies and not phone it in or half ass it LOL

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arkhamsrevenge · 7 months

Text

Season of the Witch

Jason, with the whole Arkham Knight thing over is at the manor recovering from the torture and trauma. One day he meets someone that might understand him more than he could ever realize.

“Where is it?” A young woman appeared in the middle of the Batcave. Bruce, still in his cowl, turned to you. “Where is my limited edition signed copy of Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein in mint condition?” He knew this would be a gamble. This woman is a witch of the most dangerous sort. Dark longhorns protruded out of your pale forehead. She was seething. Her eyes started to glow green. “I will destroy this place. Where do you get off stealing from-”

“Here.” A quiet voice from behind you calls your attention away from the Batman. A VERY large man stood behind her offering the book to you. “I wondered where he got this.” The woman became calmer once seeing her book was safe. Your eyes stopped glowing as you approached the person holding your book out to you. The man holding your book was handsome, but scarred. Not just physically but mentally as well, you felt turmoil and pain in his presents. She takes the book and nods her head. “Thank you.” He nods and shrinks back into the shadows then listens as his footsteps leave the cave and enter the manner.

“That’s my son Jason.” You turned back to Bruce now showing his face.

“Cool. Take my shit again and I’ll destroy this place. Got it?” Her eyes turned green again with warning.

And with that you vanished.

A couple days later Dick found himself walking into a small fabric store in downtown Gotham. It was run by no one other than the witch, who isn’t happy with his adopted father at the moment. Jason actually agreed to leave the house and tag along with him.

“Hey Little Wing, I’m going to check in on a friend. She runs a fabric stop downtown. Wanna come?” Jason looked up from his Jane Austin book and originally shook his head. Jason had been locked away and cut off since he abandoned the Arkham Knight persona and moved back into the manor. Dick remembers Bruce bringing him home. At first Dick didn't recognize Jason until Bruce told him. He and Alfred stayed awake for days looking after Jason. It took 4 months for Jason to look at Dick and Bruce. It took at least another 3 months before Jason started to speak in general. He still doesn’t speak all that much but at least he’s willing to leave the mansion sometimes when prompted. Dick told Jason that the witch he met yesterday would be there as she owns the shop. It took a little more convincing before Jason said yes to coming with him.

“Spooky I’m back!” Jason’s eyes almost popped out of his head as the witch he saw yesterday but you didn’t look like yourself. You had no horns. He felt disappointed as he liked your horns. In Jason’s eyes you shouldn’t have to hide yourself but know why you did.

“Uh Grayson, go away I’m busy this week and don't have time to- oh, Jason hello.” Jason nodded again at the women in front of him. “Grayson piss off.” She growls. “I don’t have time to “whip up” something for you because you and whoever are in an argument or you forgot a birthday or anniversary gift for someone. I have too many customers for that this week.” The witch said tidying up your shop. “Aw come on Spooks, don’t be like that! I always pay well.” Jason elbowed his older brother for being dense.

“That’s not the point dickhead.” He mumbled.

“You just want someone to talk to about books. Bruce told me he heard you talking to Alfred about how impressed you were with the quality of her mint condition-”

“Can it!” Jason growled.

“Huh…. well as of right now you, Dick, and Bruce are now allowed in or around my shop. He took my shit and you only come in when you need something and it pisses me off.” Grayson’s cheek got red as he realized what he had done to his friend. “But Jason?” She called turning back to the brothers. “You can come in anytime. I would love to talk about literature with you.”

“What’s your name?” Jason asked flat toned.

“Y/N L/N.” You answer. Jason nods again. “If you’d like to meet me at the bookshop across the way tomorrow, I’ll show you some of my favorite books.” Jason again nods and leaves with Grayson. Back at the manor, Dick enthusiastically told Bruce what had happened.

“You were right. They took to each other immediately. But we aren’t welcome back for a while.” Bruce only chuckled.

“I figured.”

Jason woke up that morning and actually wanted to get up out of bed. He took a shower, brushed his teeth and headed downstairs feeling proud that he was able to complete those tasks. Some days he doesn't want to get out of bed, some days he doesn’t want to leave his room but today was different.

“WOW! UP BEFORE 12!?! AMAZING!” Dick teased. Jason felt annoyance flare up inside him.

“Master Grayson!” Alfred scolded. “Master Todd is excited about his day and you will do well to support him today.” Dick pouted like a three year old and muttered an apology. Jason nodded to Alfred then headed out the door. Jason was surprised to see that you were already waiting for him at the book shop. You had two cups in your hand. Panic started to bubble up in Jason, he hoped you weren’t a coffee drinker. Caffeine does not mesh well with his anxiety.

“Good Morning Jason, I got you some herbal tea. Got one for myself too.” She said in a monotone voice. “If you don’t want it, just say so, no feelings will be hurt. I’ll drink both.” Jason started to calm. He nodded and reached for the tea. He wanted to thank her but words fought him. She didn’t take a second thought and led him inside.

“Hello Felix, hello Sasha.” She greeted the people behind the counter. “Hello Darling!” Sasha said excitedly, hugging you. “How are you? Who is this?” Jason swallowed and opened his mouth.

“This is Jason. He and I are going to be here for a bit.” Sasha blinked and smiled.

“I’ll close! This way you can be yourself.”Sasha gasped and looked at Jason. “I-uh.”

“He knows Sash. Don’t worry.” Jason breathed in and out. You were taking care of everything and didn’t even know it. Jason started to feel weirdly safe until he realized Felix was staring daggers into him.

“Felix?” Sasha called. The man broke eye contact with Jason and turned to Sasha. “Come on love! Say hello!” Jason was very good at reading people and he could tell right away that Felix had a thing for you but for some reason he is with Sasha. Felix put on a good face and stretched out his hand to Jason when he caught s glimpse of the scarred up skin on Jason’s hand.

“Dude…was your hand ran through a shre-”

“Finish that sentence and I’ll make you eat your tongue.” You sneer, eyes starting to glow. Felix dropped back. Sasha turned to her boyfriend and scolded him then closed the blinds. Once they signaled that they were good, you turned back into the horned witch Jason met two days earlier. “The horns scare the locals. One time a mob wanted to burn me alive cause they thought I was the devil.” Jason nodded his head. You saw his eyes become soft as if he wanted to apologize for others behavior. You waved him off and took his hand. Jason was about to pull back as he didn’t want you to feel his rough hands. Immediately you dropped his hand. “Sorry, I should have asked first. Is it OK if I take your hand?” Jason nodded but still felt uncomfortable. “No it’s not. That’s OK. Come, I want to show you something.” Jason didn’t know how she was guessing his emotions and feelings then realized, you're a witch. Duh. Wait. You can feel it, feel everything he’s feeling. The pain, panic, rage…calm. Felix then put a hand on your shoulder to which you jumped back and hissed in pain.

“Felix!” Sasha gasped. “Your ring is made of iron! That burns her remember?” Felix looked like he was the one who got hurt and stepped back. You look at your shoulder, a burn mark has formed but quickly healed up. Jason’s eyes caught yours.

"Sorry." Felix mumbled then went back behind the register.

“I’m good.” You reassure him. “ Come on.” Jason nodded and followed you to the back of the library. You looked back and relieved a glass case that had an original Jane Austin manuscript. Jason’s eyes lit up. You felt yourself smile a little, seeing him excited over something you feel light. Jason looked at the manuscript in aw. “Do you wanna look at it closer?” Jason’s head snapped to you. His heart started to race. With a lift of her hand, you made the book float out of the case and hover in front of Jason. “I can flip through it if you want. Obviously, I can’t let you hold it.” Jason watched as the pages flipped, seeing Jane Austin’s notes and thought about her story. Once the book was placed back in its case Jason and Y/N spent the day looking through books and giving their opinions on them.

Jason was in a good mood when he returned to the manner. He didn’t feel like souring his good mood so he tried to sneak back up to his room. Once he closed the door and turned around the light clicked on. Dick had been waiting for him.

“You spent all day with Spooks and you thought I was gonna let that go?” Jason rolled his eyes.

“Come on. Come ON! Tell me what happened!” Dick sounded like a teenage boy who's never been around a woman before trying to get this brother who is a stud to tell him the mysteries of the women. Jason shook his head and grabbed his book. “We went to the bookstore.” He said casually.

“For 8 hours?!” Dick asked. Jason flinched at Dick’s loudness. You had been soft spoken when talking to him, so accommodating but that’s because you are a witch. You feel things very deeply than most. Jason smiled as he felt something in him start to heal, slightly. All he knew was, you were going to pick him up tomorrow after your shop closed and take him to an apothecary. Whatever that was, Jason was just happy he found someone like him but instead of causing destruction, heals. Suddenly dread started to bubble in him, he destroyed almost everything he touches…what if.

“Don’t.” Dick’s voice broke through Jason’s thoughts. “Don’t get in your head. Remember the feeling she gave you.” Jason’s eyes squinted, not happy that Dick was able to read his mind so well. “Look, I've known Spooks for a long time. When we first met, she lost control of her power because someone close to her cut her wings off and did other harmful things. Jason felt like cold water was poured on him. “She…never really recovered from that. For years, she went around killing a lot of uh...people…who....” Jason knew what Dick was doing. He was trying to censor things so Jason wouldn’t get triggered. “It’s not your story to tell, so don’t tell it. Dick nodded then patted Jason’s leg leaving him with his thoughts.

It was a bad day. Jason couldn’t move and everything hurt. His body ached as the weather changed and hurt his joints. His head was foggy and pounding, yet he wanted to get up and see you. Would you hate him if he cancelled? Jason couldn’t even focus on one thing before slipping unconscious. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep but while later his scenes came back, his body wasn’t aching as much, his head was less foggy and a dull headache was all that remained. Jason opened his eyes to see candles around his room, the smell of lilac and vanilla was faint but comforting. He started to sit up when he caught someone walking in with a metal tray. He knew it was tea as Alfred often carried tea in for Jason on his bad days. Which is why his breath stopped when the person who walked in spoke.

“Oh good you’re up.” Jason snapped his head to the voice. It was you, horns and all. You’re here? Why? He tried to speak but still didn’t have the strength. “Don’t even try. You’ve been out for most of the day. Your body is still not 100%. I made tea though, it should help with the pain.” Jason’s brow furrowed as you helped him sit up. Once the pillow was propped against Jason’s back, you brought the tea over. “It’s a compilation of Vervain, turmeric and honey.” Jason blinked. Where the hell do you get your tea. “You should feel special. I don’t make tea from scratch for just anyone.” Surprisingly he huffed a small laugh out.

“You…made…” You nodded. “Sure did. Vervain is to help you sleep and the turmeric is for the pain. Honestly, I don't like prescription grade stuff honestly.” You say handing him the cup only to see his hands shaking. “Are you strong enough to hold it?” Jason nodded, not wanting to feel weak. He took the tea from you and got as far as his chin before his hands gave out, yet no pain came. Instead Jason opened his eyes to see the cup and tea surrounded in a green light. The cup turned upright and the tea placed itself back in. Jason turned to you, your hand was up controlling the cup. “It was a good effort.” You say matter-of-factually. The cup set itself down on the bedside table. Though his joints creaked, his heart started to warm him.

“Thanks.” Jason finally got out. You waved him off.

“I wanted to show you my apothecary didn’t I? All the herbs that’s in your tea I got.” Jason nodded. A question still lingered. He didn’t ask but wanted to know so bad.

“Did you…make me feel better?” He asked. “No.” You said flatly. “I don’t use magic on unconscious people unless I 1. Know them well or 2 life threatening.” Jason tried to hide the relief on his face. “I’m not going to make you uncomfortable.” You say in a soft voice. Dick’s voice entered Jason’s head and he found himself wanting to ask you about your past. But for today, he just wanted to be in your company.

It took three days for Jason to fully recover from his episode but after a couple weeks he was with you at your sewing shop helping you restock.

“You have a lot of fabric that you sold.” He said, picking up tons of boxes with ease.

“Prom season is upon us.” You say. “A lot of rich parents want a one of a kind dress for their spoiled brats.” Jason laughs. You’re funny, you make him laugh and he feels safe with you. He hopes you feel the same with him as these past few weeks. You’re a nice friend for him to have and you seem to be liking him too since Dick and Bruce were still not allowed in or around the shop. “Ah.” The rest of the day went off without a hitch. You had ordered Belly Burgers for delivery as you both don't like socializing. Unsurprisingly, you knew his order for Belly Burger. Jason went home that day with a weird feeling in his stomach. He noticed it when you offered to drive him home.

We can take my bike.” You had said. Jason half expected an actual bike instead of a badass motorcycle. Jason then showed you his bike and proposed a race jokingly but instead ended up racing with you through the streets of Gotham. When he got back to the manor, Jason felt happy for the first time in a long time. You had made him feel like a person again and he actually enjoyed himself with another person. Jason made his way up to his room and opened the door. He made his way to his bed, put his things down and made his way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

“How’d your date go?” Jason rolled his eyes and turned to his other brother, Tim who was dating Barbra. “What? I can’t ask?”

“It wasn’t a date.” Jason mumbled brushing his teeth. Tim smirked in the door frame.

“Then why aren’t you calling me names right now?” Tim said, leaning against the frame.

“Because he’s in a good mood.” Barbra chimed in, standing by Tim. “Why doesn’t everyone cram into the bathroom?” Jason grumbled, spitting out this toothpaste. Tim and Barbra laughed. “It’s nice to see you happy Jason.” Jason whipped his mouth and faced the two not knowing what to say to that so he just nodded. With that, Tim and Barbra left so Jason could head to sleep. He didn’t know what he’d see you next but couldn’t wait till he could.

The Joker had escaped from Arkham again and to top it all off, he went on a rampage blowing up buildings and yours was caught in the crossfire. No one could get a hold of you. Jason couldn’t get a hold of you. Panic was rising in him quickly as he watched the news report in the Batcave. No one had been found in the wreckage yet.

“Any sign of her?” Dick asked. Bruce shook his head. Jason felt his temper rising.

“After everything he did to me,” Jason growled. “You let him live and look at what he’s done yet again.” Jason’s voice started to rise. Tim and Barbra looked at each other while Dick stood between Jason and Bruce.

“Jason I-” Bruce didn’t have time to finish. A portal opened up in the Batcave and a body dropped out. It was you but you were moving very slowly as if you were hurt. Jason raced over to you.

“Where have you been? You weren’t answering your phone I thought…” He trailed off.

“Sorry.” You sounded in pain. “I was busy getting shot.” You revealed a bullet hole in your shoulder, a bullet was still in. “Felix decided to confess, broke up with Sasha,” You took a breath and continued while Alfred started to sit down and prepare to get the bullet out. “I rejected him and he got mad.” Jason pulled you up carefully, holding you so your back was against his front. Helping Alfred get a better angle of the bullet. Meanwhile, Jason was thinking of eight ways to kill Felix. “He’s dead.” You assured Jason. Bruce’s head snapped towards you. “Relax Holier than Thou, he died when my shop collapsed.”

“I don’t understand.” Dick started crouching down to your level. “Why aren’t you healing instantly?” You didn’t really feel like talking anymore. Your head was swimming and you were getting weaker.

“Iron bullet.” Jason guessed. You nodded. Finally, Alfred got the bullet out and your skin pulled itself together. You exhaled fully and focused on getting your breathing back to normal.

“Thank you.” You breathed looking at Alfred.

“Of course miss.” Jason shifted behind you, thinking he was going to help you up, you started to move until he stopped you.

“Hold on.” You then felt one of his arms under your legs while the other supported your back. You wrapped your arms around his neck, a little uncomfortable with the closeness but that was because you were weak and couldn’t defend yourself at a moment's notice. “Relax. I’m just taking you upstairs. You’re gonna need a couple hours to recover.” Dick’s mouth dropped. This witch, the same witch that threatened Batman a couple months ago, wasn't protesting when Jason was holding her. Carrying her. He couldn’t believe it. Jason made his way to him room, carrying you up many grand staircases.

“Ya know I could have walked up myself if you just waited 30 minutes.” You muttered trying not to blush.

“Yeah but you look like you were going to pass out, so I figured you could pass out on a comfortable bed.” Jason answered. You hummed. “You’ll be sleeping in my room, I wanna keep an eye on you for the next couple hours.” Your head snapped toward Jason who laughed at your reaction. “Do you think I’m the type to take advantage of someone weaker?” You rolled your eyes.

“That’s not why I reacted that way, you moron.” You mumbled. “This is just weird for me.” “What? Someone carrying you?”

“Someone caring.” Jason stopped and looked into your eyes. Once again words escaped him so he continued to carry on to his bedroom. Once he got in, he placed you on the bed and closed the bedroom door.

“I like my privacy.” He said turning to you. You were looking at his book collection. “Which one are you looking at?”

“The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.” You say. Jason pulled the book off the shelf and made his way over to you.

“Get comfortable.” Jason said. You raised an eyebrow. “Just…do it.” You got comfortable on Jason’s bed. He sits next to you and opens the book.

“You’re going to read to me?” You ask. Jason nodded. “Why?” You ask looking down. Jason swallowed.

“I care.” You look back at him, but he was already flipping to the first chapter. Jason doesn’t know what chapter you fell asleep on, but he woke up the next morning cuddling you. His arms were around your waist keeping you close. Jason smiled to himself, but then remembered who he was and shot up in bed startling you.

“What?!” You asked. Jason shook his head. “Nothing…bad dream.” You nodded.

“Do you-?

“Want breakfast?” He interrupted scrambling out of bed. “Uh sure.” With that Jason was out the door leaving you very confused.

You teleported down to the kitchen, already changed in new clothes.

“Good morning Spooks! You staying over again tonight?” You opened your mouth to answer but Jason again interrupted you.

“No. She’s leaving after breakfast.” Dick looked between the two of you looking just as confused as you are. “Oh uh…where are you going to stay?” Tim asks.

“At my apartment.” You answer. Barbra gasps. “YOU HAVE AN APARTMENT?” You nod.

“Did you think I lived at my shop?” Tim nodded.

Breakfast was silent and odd as no one could understand why Jason was acting so distant now. You had your suspicions but didn't say anything. When it was time to leave you said thank you to Alfred and Bruce again for helping you. Alfred then gave you tubs of some easy reheat meals for you to take home. Knowing better, you didn’t refuse. You sent them back to your house via magic of course, as Jason walked you outside. Once you crossed the threshold to the outside, your horns disappeared not wanting to draw too much attention.

“I’ll drive you home.” Jason said, throwing you a helmet. You caught it then, got on Jason’s motorcycle. You wrap your arms around his waist, noticing he was pulling away slightly, still you didn’t say anything. It was a long awkward drive to your apartment and it didn’t get better when you got off the bike. You open your mouth to say goodbye when Jason speaks first.

“I don’t think we should see each other for a while.” You hum. “OK.” You answer turning away and making your way up the stairs that lead to your porch. Jason grabbed your arm.

“OK? That's all you have to say? You’re not mad?” You sighed and turned back to Jason who was the confused one. “I told you. I’m not going to make you uncomfortable.” Jason let go of your arm and watched you as you disappeared into your apartment. What he didn’t see were the tears running down your face when you closed the door. He cares, huh? You swallow the lump in your throat and the tears fall rapidly.

“Y/N?” Jason didn’t even try to cover the worry in his voice from the other side of the door. “I know what I said last time hurt you but Dick’s been freaking you cause you haven't been answering him.” No answer again. It’s a lie. Dick wasn’t worried, Jason was. You hadn’t contacted him since he dropped you off at your apartment. It had been a month and Jason just wanted to give you space hoping you’d reach out. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, pride was always going to be his downfall. He started going out with Dick and Bruce on patrol again, even took up a vigilante name, Red Hood. Jason did try to track you down when he was on patrol but only found your shop, now rebuilt (Bruce had a hand in that), closed for the day. It’s like you were actively hiding from him. And actually you were not, until now. You had walked into your apartment building about 5 minutes after Jason arrived, you were currently hiding in the stairwell, waiting for him to leave. You were hurt and still wanted to keep your distance. Dick had actually contacted you for a case a couple weeks ago yet never mentioned if he told Jason or not. From what Jason said, he didn’t. You closed your eyes and when you opened you were back in your apartment when you heard Jason knock again

“If you’re there please open up.” You considered but stayed in your spot not wanting to move in case he heard. You hadn’t spoken to Sasha, who was taking the news of Felix’s betrayal hard. She didn’t want to be around you or anyone at the moment which you understood otherwise you would have asked her to come out of her apartment and tell Jason to go. Somehow, she must have gotten your silent message because you heard the door across the hall open.

“She’s not home.” Sasha’s voice rang out.

“Do you know where she is?” Jason asked.

“No. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.” Yikes. Easy Sasha.

“She told you what happened?” Jason sounded pissed.

“No. But I’ve been listening to you for the past half hour and putting the pieces together. You won’t see her. She won’t make herself known to you if you have hurt her. I haven't seen her either. I said some things I regret.” You just smiled. I already forgave you Sasha. “She told me about Felix…and how he died. I just can’t believe she left him there though.” Your breath hitched. You didn’t tell Sasha that Felix had shot you because she started screaming at you and then slammed the door in your face.

“That’s because he fucking shot her.” Jason growled. Sasha gasped.

“He-what? Shot her? What-I-she didn’t-” Sasha babbled. “Now I feel even more like a jackass. If you do find her, tell her to come see me…tell her I’ll listen and that I’m sorry.” You swallowed roughly.

“If I ever find her.” Jason mumbled and seemingly walked away. You waited for the apartment building door to open and close then for the sound of his bike driving away. You then went over Sasha's wanting to patch things up.

About 10pm, you were designing a wedding dress for Barbra, who called your store yesterday to ask you to design and create her wedding dress. You accepted.

“Oh and Jason won’t know I called. We are all letting him sweat it out.” You didn’t know how to respond to that.

“That isn’t necessary but I will have the designs ready for Thursday when you come in.” Barbra thanked you then hung up. You were almost done picking out the fabric when you heard the window to your living room open. Boots touched the ground and a voice cut through the silence.

“Y/N?” Your jaw dropped, there is no way he broke in. You stepped out of your room to come face to face with the Red Hood. You folded your arms.

“Seriously.”

“You weren’t answering my calls.”

“You said we shouldn’t see each other for a while. I wasn’t going to pick up and have you say you changed your mind only to have you change it again and say you don’t want to see me. I don’t play those games.” You say flatly. Jason takes off his mask.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” You blink.

“OK.”

“OK? That’s all you have to say?” You shrug. “I came all this way for an ‘OK’?” You scoffed.

“What did you expect? That I fell into your arms crying and saying how miserable it was without you? I know you're a romantic but books don’t portray real life well.” You knew you were being cold but that’s what happened when your heart gets broken, the cold numb feeling comes back. Jason could feel it and knew he wasn’t going to get a breakthrough while you were like this.

“Look…I came to say I was sorry and I said it. I mean it too. I was just scared of feeling close to someone again and I made a rash decision. When…when you want to talk, I’ll listen.” And with that he was back out the window. You closed it and went back to picking out fabric.

You had been so busy making Barbra’s dress that you almost missed the bell going off at the front door.

“Y/N!” Barbra shouted. You turned to her only to meet the eyes so Jason, not that you were surprised. He’s been watching you from the rooftops every night, well the Red Hood has. It seems that with the gain of this guardian angel, many have ventured to your shop more and more as they feel safer with the Red Hood watching over this part of Gotham. “IT LOOKS AMAZING! But..why aren’t you using magic?”

“Because I like everything done by my hand.” You answer plainly going back to pinning the dress. The base of it was done with a satin white train. Flowers and lace were scattered about the border of the gown.

“It’s far from done, but I need to make sure it fits you right.” Barbra nodded excitedly and took the dress into the changing room. Jason stood next to you, surprisingly the silence was not uncomfortable…for you at least. You spoke first.

“The Red Hood?” Jason chuckled.

“I needed something to do.” You hummed and finally looked at him. His eyes were brighter and clear. And OH MY he was huge! I mean he was big compared to anyone before but he put on a ton of muscle. “You seem good and the shop has been busier.” You smile slightly.

“So you stalking me isn’t just a nightly activity?” You ask, thinking he was going to blush but he didn’t, but he did smirk. “Gotta make sure you don’t come crashing into the cave again. Though I have no problem carrying you like a princess if you need me to.” Jason’s smile widened as you blushed, not expecting him to be so…cocky.

“Well?” You both turned to see Barbra in the dress you made. You looked over the dress, of course it looked beautiful on her but something was missing. THE VEIL! You turned to pick up a manikin head that was holding the veil you made. You brought it to Barbra and placed it on her head. You then pinned some places that you wanted to fix, not noticing how intensely Jason was watching you until you heard. “Jason she’s not gonna catch fire if you blink.” Barbra snickered. You didn’t look back at Jason, only shook your head. “There. Carefully take off the dress and I’ll make the adjustments for you.” Barbra nodded and went back into the dressing room.

“You made that?” Jason asked.

“I don’t get good business cause I’m pretty.” You retort, making Jason laugh.

“Fair enough.” Jason said. “Ouch!” You turned back to Jason who was holding his hand, he then pulled out a pin. “Fuck.” He hissed. “Note to self, don’t touch any projects that are half done.” You made your way over to him and held his hand in yours. A nettle prick was leaking blood, you looked up at him to ask for permission. “Go ahead.” He whispered. With that, your fingers started to glow and Jason’s skin started to pull itself back together. “Thought you were supposed to be a deadly witch.” His voice was low, just enjoying being close to you.

“I am.” You answer. “So don’t go around announcing I healed you. I’ll lose my reputation for being ruthless.”

“Should I leave you two alone?” Your head snapped to Barbra who was holding the dress and smiling widely. You let go of Jason’s hand and took the dress from Barbra.

“I’ll finish the alterations then send it to you.” You say setting up the dress to start the altercations.

“Thank you Y/N. Truly, it’s so magical.” You laugh.

“I’m glad you like it.” Barbra then jumped on you, giving you a big hug. “Oh.” You say hugging her back. She let go and handed you an invitation.

“Please come. You are hand making my dress. Please.” You smile and accept the invitation.

“Of course.” You say, not really wanting to come to a social event. On this side of town they don’t care that you’re a witch if you hide the horns but the socialites of Gotham don’t like you at all. Thinking you are in service to the devil. With that Jason and Barbra left the shop leaving you to get back to the dress.

Finally, the wedding was upon us. You ended up making Dick, Jason, and Tim custom suits. During that time, Jason made sure to come to every appointment even ones that weren’t his. You two had been patching things over, him flirting with you every chance he gets and your witty responses always making him want to mess with you more. But now, you want to run and hide. The people in the room with you started pointed and whispered about you. You can hear them.

“It’s her.” “The one with the horns? I don’t think so, I don’t see them.” You just wanted to say congratulations to Tim and Barbra then leave. You felt like you were crawling in your skin.

“She’s pretty though…probably how she seduces her victims.” Your heart felt like it was shaking your body. Trying to calm yourself down you went to look for a drink when you almost ran into Jason. “Oh! My gosh, I am so-” You started. When he handed you a drink.

“Gin?” You laughed out a breath and took the drink thanking him.

“That man really shouldn’t bother with a creature like that.” You took a sip trying to ignore it.

“Say that again and see what happens.” Jason sneers. The man and women stutter excuses trying to make it seem they weren’t talking about you. “Piss off.” And they did. Jason looked back to you and offered his arm. You raised an eyebrow. “What? This is the only time I’ll be polite like this. Take advantage of it.” You took his arm and he led you to the rest of the Wayne Family. When Barbra saw you, her and Tim almost tackled you, thanking you over and over again for the clothes you made. “It was nothing really.” You try to brush off but of course they didn’t let you.

“We also told all the press that it was here where we got our wedding attire from.” Barbra said excitedly. “You might need to hire more help.” You shook your head.

“I’m magic, remember?” Barbra’s brow furrowed.

“But you said…oh.” She breathed. “The ones you do yourself…you do for people that mean a lot to you.” You nod and see Dick start to tear up.

“Don’t make it weird Dick.” You say finishing your drink. Jason takes it and places it on the bar. Bruce then made his way over to you guys.

“Tim, Barbra? Congratulations. Y/N, a word?” He asks, offering his arm. You nod and take it. Once you were far enough away from the group Bruce spoke.

“I must apologize for stealing your book a year a ago.” You smile and look back at Jason, who of course was looking back at you. Making sure you were alright. “I’m glad you did.” You answer. Bruce nods and gestures to Jason to take you back. He’s by your side in seconds and offers his hand. “Dance with me?” You smile.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

By the end of the night, you and Jason had run off into the many gardens of the Manor where the wedding was held. You took off your heels as you both walked and talked for hours. Jason notices how the plants would perk up more when you pass, how dead leaves came back to life and how wounded trees repaired themselves. A deadly witch? You couldn’t be. Not to him.

“You can wear your horns ya know.” He said. You chuckle and show them. “I like them.” Jason says, touching them fondly.

“I noticed.” You say. “You're the first to not be uncomfortable with them.” Jason hummed.

“I’m never uncomfortable with you. Just..stupid sometimes.”

“So am I.” You whisper looking at the flowers. Jason’s hand came on your cheek. He turned your head back to face him. He takes both hands to the side of your face and kisses you. You kiss back and laugh as you pull away.

“What?” Jason asks, smiling.

“You kissed me underneath the moonlight in the rose garden. Can you be any more sappy?” Jason laughed then dipped you, making you gasp.

“Don’t challenge me.” With that he went in for another kiss.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x y/n

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