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loverslakes · 3 months

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if only to say you’re mine 💌 a byler valentine’s ficlet 💌 also on ao3 (renamed, repost from valentine’s day 2023)

"I think it's kinda cool how everyone's more eager to celebrate the little things now, after almost losing so much," Will ponders after Max voices criticism at the frivolous decorations around Hawkins High.

He notices a head of dark waves near Will's locker up ahead, turning to walk in the opposite direction, and pointedly chooses to ignore it. Will has never really been a skeptic—though he's never gotten to celebrate the day of Love, he likes seeing the people he cares about be giddy about it.

Like the year his mom had just started dating Bob when he was twelve, flowers were delivered to the front door during breakfast, and he saw her smile for the first time in a long time. And when Lucas asked Max to be his valentine when they were thirteen, and he got all the steps wrong—Max laughed at him, but Will noticed the flush on her cheekbones as she accepted his offer. Or when he watched Jonathan scramble to accomplish the perfect long-distance gesture for Nancy when Will was fourteen, which he thought was kind of dumb, but still.

Now, Will is sixteen, and the town he grew up in has finally found a new normal after years of war. It's February 14, 1988, and the hallway is covered with construction paper hearts and pink garlands.

"I mean, yeah, that's sweet. It's just like—who's going to come and clean this up by tomorrow? Does it not feel like a waste to you?" She poses, and Will shrugs.

"Are we talking about how Valentine's day is a waste of energy and money? Because I completely agree," Dustin interjects, joining them in their walk down the hall, and Will is thankful because he's not the best debate partner. He listens as they stop at Max's locker first and then Will's. By the time Will turns his lock combination, the two have moved on to a full-fledged conversation about economics.

"I do support innovation and creativity, but we can't ignore how consumerism is changing the moral fabric of society—" Dustin stops talking abruptly when Will's locker opens.

Will's gaze is trained on the floor as he feels the surface of his face catch fire. If he never looks up, he'll never have to find out if his friends’ heads are angled to the floor just like his. He wonders if he stares long enough, if he stays frozen, that Dustin and Max will just get the idea and continue their debate.

But his friends are Max and Dustin, who aren't normal about anything ever.

And Will knows they are all three looking at the same thing.

A homemade Valentine.

That just fell out of Will's locker.

A cute little handmade Valentine's card is on the ground in front of them, addressed to Will Byers.

"Will…" Dustin sings, drawing out his name, "What is this?"

Will finally snaps out of his frozen state, bending down at lightning speed to pick up the card before either of his nosy friends beat him to it.

"Weren't you just talking about how much you dislike Valentine's day? Why do you care?" Will tries, avoiding eye contact as he (carefully) shoves the card deep into his locker.

"Forget Valentine's day—are you seeing someone?" Max exclaims, "Or is this from a secret admirer?"

Will stutters, too flustered to even think about an answer. His utter mortification is only amplified when Lucas and El join the three of them.

"Did I just hear someone say, secret admirer?" El inquires.

"Why are the three of you being weird—Will, dude, are you okay? Your face is really red," Lucas speculates. Dustin ignores their questions, opting to glare at Will instead.

"Judging by the look on your face, you definitely know who this is from, and you don't want to tell us. What the hell, man!" Dustin concludes.

Max looks around, ducking her head and lowering her voice, and asks, "Wait, is it Jeff from biology? I knew I was right about him."

"No, Max, oh my god, bequietplease ," Will begs, face only growing more flushed, looking to El for help. Four of his best friends are looking at him, facial expressions a mix of sympathy, excitement, pride, and suspicion.

"Maybe it's something new, and Will wants to keep it to himself. We can respect that, right guys?" El urges the rest of the group, and Will is so thankful that his sister can pretty much read his mind. He takes a deep breath.

"Let's just act like no one saw that. Okay? Please?" Will pleads, teeth clenched together, and he's met with reluctant agreement.

"Just know we're happy for you, man. Whoever it is better know he's the luckiest guy ever," Lucas affirms before he receives a death glare from Max. "Other than me, of course," he winces. Will turns to get his book, and they'll probably be late for class, thanks to someone's poor decision-making skills.

"Who's the luckiest guy ever?" He hears a familiar voice say, the only voice missing from this delightful intervention. Will's heart flutters a little bit.

"Will has a valentine," El discloses, raising her eyebrows at Mike.

"Oh," Mike responds, sounding unphased, "Of course he does—it's Will," he acknowledges, and now that Will thinks about it, he feels kind of offended by how surprised the party was at the possibility of Will having an admirer. Mike seems to understand completely. But also, it's Mike.

Mike, who has been close to obsessed with Will ever since they repaired their friendship almost 2 summers ago. Mike, who is so nice to Will all the time that the party doesn't even bat an eye at his behavior anymore. It's so similar to how they acted when they were ten years old, Will thinks that Dustin and Lucas are just so glad to have another thing that feels normal again that they don't think twice about it.

"Anyway," Will groans, signaling that the conversation needs to be over now. "We have class." The rest of them disperse, and Will catches Mike's eye. He notices the rosiness that's formed on Mike's cheeks and the warmth in his expression as he holds Will's gaze for a beat longer. Then, Mike tilts his head, signaling for Will to walk with him to their next class.

…

Will laughs to himself later that day, considering how invested his friends appear to be in his love life while still managing to be entirely oblivious to something that's been right under their noses for almost a year now. He's holding the sweetly made Valentine's card in his hand, flipping it over to find a quick doodle of a ceiling fan in Mike's style, with the words:

I'm a huge fan of yours. Be my valentine, pretty boy?

Love, Mike

"What's so funny?" Mike asks from the driver's seat, looking over at Will as they make the trip to his house from school.

"You," Will teases, getting a hey, from Mike as he takes his hand off the gear shift and snakes his fingers between Will's. Will hums and then continues, "Just thinking about the party. Like, do you think they really have no idea about us?"

"I don't know," Mike wonders, bringing Will's hand up to his mouth to press a kiss on top. "I think everyone's just been caught up with their own shit that a lot has gone over their heads. Plus, we haven't really met the normal friendship standards since they've known us. Maybe they're scared to ask. Or they're just self-absorbed assholes."

"Mike," Will scolds with a giggle.

"I mean, it's fine with me. I like having you all to myself anyway," Mike sighs dramatically as he pulls the car into the driveway. "Except for when I wish everyone could know you're mine and be jealous, which is most of the time." He puts the car in park.

"You're silly," Will teases as he leans over the console to kiss Mike. Their lips move together easily—like they have each other memorized. Mike smiles against Will's mouth, both happy to have each other close after a long day of school—similar to most days, but especially on a day centered around love and romance.

"I love you," Mike says between pecks across Will's cheeks, nose, and forehead. The two trade more slow kisses and giggles until their position across the console becomes uncomfortable, and they realize no one's even home.

"I'm starting to think you actually want them to find out. I have something for you, too, but I didn't put it in your locker because of exactly what happened with this," Will says, holding up the card. “Risky behavior from you, sir.” Mike mumbles something that sounds like maybe I do, then comes around to open the passenger door.

The decision to keep their relationship private was mutual, but largely based around Mike’s worries about how his sexuality might impact his relationship with his family, which is more than understandable. Mike knows how he feels about Will, and that’s what matters the most—everything else, Will is perfectly fine being patient with.

"You never said whether you accept or decline," Mike recalls, eyebrows arched in a question.

"What?" Will asks dumbly, head foggy from all the kissing. He takes Mike's outstretched hand, pulling himself out of the car.

"Will you be my valentine?" Mike proposes again, eyes wide and awaiting a response.

"I'd want nothing more," Will replies, raising onto his toes to press a kiss to Mike's cheek. "And I love you too. Now let’s go inside so I can show you your card. I used watercolor," Will starts, bouncing on his heels in excitement.

Mike pulls him through the garage door and up to his room. It's so simple, loving and being loved by Mike. That's probably why the party hasn't noticed anything—not much has changed, really. The kissing is new, and the excessive hand-holding anytime they can get away with it, and saying that they love each other, yeah. But they've always given each other gifts, and had specified Will and Mike time that the other boys knew not to intrude on, back before things got complicated and they realized that wasn't the most normal thing for teenage boys to do.

For the most part, being with Mike feels like the most natural thing in the world, and Will finally understands how much it means to want to dedicate an entire day to celebrating that.

#ficlet #byler #will byers #mike wheeler #byler fanfiction #byler fic rec #st fanfiction #valentines day #shamelessly sharing here bc i just reread it and theyre so cute we all need some gushy secret rela byler in the tag rn

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gureishi · 3 years

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day 10: broken down the middle

Here’s day 10 of the Human Again prompts. For the master list of all the ficlets, click here.

SaeyoungXReader, T (see cw), words: 2330.

Cw: Detailed description of a panic attack in this fic. These manifest in lots of different ways for different people! I personally get panic attacks in a very particular way, and so I gave my panic attacks to Saeyoung (sry bb).

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜

Saeyoung’s face goes numb.

The news has been on all day, a constant drone from the speakers under the big TV in the living room. The face of the man he’s spent most of his life trying to avoid is plastered all over all his screens. Even in the RFA messenger, the discussion is centered around his father’s trial. His friends’ tone is victorious.

In the bunker, the energy is very different.

Saeran has gone for another walk; over the past few days, his walks have gotten longer and longer. Saeyoung envies his brother’s ability to escape the oppressive air in the house, the unending loop of trial footage and condemnation and speculation.

Personally, he can’t can’t bring himself to turn off the news, and he hasn’t left the house in three days.

He’s keeping it together, more or less. You’re as bright as ever, finding things around the house for him to fix, trying to keep his hands and mind busy. He knows it’s been hard on you, too—knows that the role of caretaker is taking a toll. He’s been thinking of ways he can make it up to you, when it’s all over.

Now, you’ve gone to shower (only after repeated assurances from him that he will be fine being left alone for half an hour or so). He hates himself for relying on you so heavily; he’s weak, he thinks—Saeran has figured out how to cope. Why can’t he?

Alone in his huge living room with only the footage of his father’s trial to keep him company, Saeyoung finds himself frozen on the couch, the robot vacuum cleaner he’d been re-wiring forgotten beside him. His vision is hazy—he’s not sure how long he’s been staring at the TV screen without really seeing it.

And his face is numb. This surprises and frightens him a little. He twitches his nose, wiggles his eyebrows—they’re there, but it feels like his nerve endings have been cut off. It reminds him of the times the agency gave him high doses of narcotics when he was injured so he could keep working without having to take a break. Those time, he’d felt like his head was floating a foot above his throat. This time the numbness seeps down into his neck like frigid fingers tracing his veins.

There’s definitely something wrong with his vision, too. It’s a little like his head’s been wrapped in saran wrap—the rest of the room looks far away. This is a familiar sensation, too: he’s had his airflow cut off or severely limited before, and he knows what happens just before losing consciousness.

But he doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out. He’s been breathing, he thinks—he has! He wiggles his fingers and toes—which, thankfully, still feel warm and alive—and tries to take a deep breath. The strangest part of all this, he thinks, is that he was actually feeling okay, just a moment ago. The sense of overwhelming doom that’s been enveloping him after since the start of the trial has faded into the distance, along with his ability to feel his ears.

Okay. He knows how to do this. He knows what a near-death situation feels like, and it feels like this. And he knows how to cope with that. He tries stretching out his arms, and is unpleasantly surprised to find that the numbness is spreading over his shoulders. He tries again to take a deep breath, but it gets cut off in his throat.

Somewhere very far away, through the persistent buzzing in his ears, he hears his father’s voice booming out of the TV again. Turn down the volume, he thinks frantically. If it gets any louder it’ll kill me.

He reaches for the remote but finds he can’t remember how to turn the volume down. The buttons are blurring together, a confusing blob of colors and shapes that he can’t figure out.

Huh, he thinks, somewhat calmly. Maybe this has nothing to do with the trial. Maybe I’m just having a heart attack.

Pins and needles shoot up and down his arms, which seem to confirm his theory. He can hear his heart now, and he’s surprised by how fast it’s pounding—he’d had no idea. He tries to swallow and finds he can’t can’t; his head is spinning and he lowers it clumsily into his hands, which is when he discovers that he’s crying.

What? He still feels nothing—no grief, no anxiety. Just the vague certainty that he’s dying. He doesn’t understand why is face is wet, as if tears have been pouring out of his eyes for some time. For how long…?

His head continues to spin, and he finds he can’t sit upright anymore. He curls himself into the couch, feeling nauseous—he wonders if he’s been poisoned. He knows it doesn’t make sense, knows he hasn’t seen anyone but you and his brother for days, but…but…

The cold fingers reach his chest, and he thinks, no, not poison, but it’s as if he’s been possessed, like his soul is trying to claw its way out of his body. He wraps his arms around himself and scrunches his eyes shut against the bursting, popping lights filling his vision. He waits.

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

You find him like that: curled into the fetal position on the couch, his arms wrapped around his middle, his eyes shut, tears pouring down his cheeks.

Oh no.

“Babe… Hey. Hey. Can you hear me?”

Wrapped in a bathrobe, your hair dripping onto your shoulders, you kneel beside him. You’ve seen Saeyoung at his most scared and his most desperate. You’ve soothed him when he’s woken up screaming, when he’s forgotten where he is, overwhelmed by flashbacks of his past. This is a new one, though; luckily, this time it’s something you understand.

“Saeyoung…honey. Can you hear my voice?”

Careful not to touch him, you crouch by his side, talking softly into his ear. What you’re saying doesn’t matter—you just need him to focus on something that’s not inside his own head.

“Ya…I hear—but…I feel really sick, I…” His voice is slurred, but trying to talk is good. You have to breathe when you’re talking.

“Baby, can you do something for me? Can you lift up your arm?”

He shakes his head. He’s hugging himself so tightly you couldn’t unwrap his arms if you tried.

“Please, babe. Just give me one arm. Trust me.”

He shakes his head again, but at the same time he lifts up one arm for you. Immediately, you see his face relax a little, some of his tense muscles triggered to release by the oxygen that’s forced into his body as he moves.

Gently, you take his arm, and stretch it up, then out. He doesn’t resist, so you try shaking it a bit. You hear him take a breath.

“Honey, I know you feel like you have to lie down, but I need you to try sitting up,” you say softly, slipping a hand under his head. His face is wet with tears and sweat, and his hair sticks to his forehead.

“Can’t,” he mumbles in that same slurred voice.

“If it makes you feel worse you can lay back down right away, I promise,” you coax. You scoop his head up with your arm and he tries to help you, using his other arm to prop himself up. “Good job, baby,” you murmur, guiding him into a sitting position. He opens his eyes a tiny bit, wincing at the light, and you see that his pupils are huge in his pale face. You take his other hand. “We’re just gonna move your arms around, okay?” You pull his arms toward you, away from his body. Then you shake them. He mutters something incoherent, but you see a little color returning to his cheeks. “How does that feel?” you ask him, now stretching out his hands, rotating his wrists.

“Funny,” he says, his voice a little clearer. “My body feels like rubber.”

“I know, babe. Hey, look at me?” You place your hands on his shoulders and rub them, and he blinks as if he’s trying to get you into focus. “Can you feel your arms?” you ask. He wriggles them on his own this time and you feel him take another breath.

“Kind of,” he says. He blinks frantically and his eyes focus on you. “Were numb, but…”

“Yeah. Can you try to take another breath for me?” He takes a slow, stuttering breath. It catches in his throat, and he coughs. “You had a panic attack,” you tell him softly. “The more you breathe, the better you’ll start to feel.”

“Never had a panic attack before,” he mutters, trying another shaky breath. “Thought I got poisoned.”

You almost laugh, shaking your head. “Leave it to you to have more experience with getting poisoned than dealing with your anxiety. Can you take another breath for me?”

You count for him, making him inhale for four counts and exhale for eight. A few more tears leak out of the corner of his eye.

“Take three more breaths like that for me, baby. I’m going to get you something. I’ll be back before you’re done.”

You rest his hands in his lap and dart into the kitchen. You hear him taking two unsteady breaths before you return. This time, you sit beside him on the couch.

“I’m gonna put an ice cube against your cheek,” you tell him. “It’s going to feel cold, but it will help you.” You twist the ice cube tray with both hands and catch a cube in a dish towel. Gently, you press it against his cheek, and a shiver runs through his body. Good. As you move it over his face, you feel his neck muscles relax, just a little bit. He closes his eyes again. “Babe, can you try to stand up?” you ask.

“My legs are still kinda numb,” he admits. He sounds a bit more like himself. “I’ll try, though.”

He stands, a little wobbly on his feet, and you rise with him.

“We’re gonna do some jumping jacks—no, seriously, trust me. We’ll do it together. We can just do five.”

You start jumping and, though he looks skeptical, he follows suit. After five, you have him do ten more. Then another ten.

He looks at you with clearer eyes. You can hear that his breath has deepened.

“Wow, that—really helped,” he says.

“Is your face still numb?” you ask him. He shakes his head.

“I still feel a little nauseous and dizzy. But I can feel my nose again.”

You smile. “Good. Let’s get you some water.”

You go to the kitchen again and you hear him moving around, jogging back and forth. He takes the cup you offer him with sure hands, and he sips it carefully.

“Babe? Do you think we could turn the TV off for a little while? Or at least mute it?” you suggest.

“Let’s mute it,” he says. “At least for now.”

Relieved, you take the remote and mute the TV. The sound that’s been pervading the house for the past three days is finally cut off. You take a deep breath, and Saeyoung does, too.

He sits on the floor, facing away from the TV, and you sit in front of him, taking his hands.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Apparently I can’t be left alone even for a few minutes.”

You rub his hands, pleased o feel that they are starting to warm up. His blood is flowing again. “You are a very strong and self-sufficient person, Saeyoung,” you tell him firmly. “It’s normal to have anxiety when your father is on trial—even when is is…who he is. Because of all of that. It is normal to need help in this situation.”

He shakes his head. “I wasn’t even feeling bad when it happened,” he says. “I was feeling better and then suddenly—like, my heart stopped working?”

“That’s normal, too,” you say, wiggling his arms again. He relaxes them, letting you.“You’ve been through this with me before. You know it doesn’t always happen when it makes the most sense.”

He takes another long, slow breath. “I thought I was ready to deal with whatever happened,” he says slowly. “Everything’s playing out exactly how I wanted it to, but…I guess I wasn’t as ready to deal with it as I thought.”

You move closer to him and he leans into you, so you wrap up in your arms, cradling his head against your chest.

“Handling it doesn’t have to look like celebrating. Or feeling calm. Or knowing what you’re supposed to feel or think or do. You are handling it.”

“Uggghhhh.” Saeyoung groans and squeezes you tight. “What would I do without you?”

You run a hand up and down his back, along his spine. “You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for,” you tell him. “You would be fine.

He nuzzles his face against your shoulder. “Maybe so,” he says. “But I’m lucky I never have to find out.”

Over his head, on the TV, you see the trial dragging on. The end is inevitable, you think: whether it’s later tonight, or tomorrow, or next week, Saeyoung’s father is going to lose. The twins are going to be safe. They are going to be free.

But right now, that all feels so far away; right now, the figure who has loomed in Saeyoung’s nightmares ever since he learned to recognize him is everywhere, and Saeyoung feels happy and scared and guilty and relieved all at once.

You brush his sweaty hair off his forehead. In the distance, the security system chimes; Saeran is home.

“It’s going to be okay,” you whisper into Saeyoung’s hair, meaning nothing, meaning everything.

“I know,” he says.

#mystic messenger #mysticmessenger #mysme #mm #human again prompts #saeyoung choi #707 #saeyoungxreader #707xreader #fanfiction #fanfic #drabble #ficlet #this stressed me tf out to write tbh #but more smut coming tomorrow so #yyaaayyyy

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piracytheorist · 3 years

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Fanfic Self Promo: KnightRook

I decided to make a few self-promo posts on my older fics, starting with the ones centered on KnightRook! All are short one shots or drabbles, but they’re worth a little promo after all this time. They’re in a list of older ones first.

Missing Knight | T, 2.4k words, written 16 Oct 2017 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Speculative fic about Detective Rogers meeting the girl who, unbeknownst to him, is his own daughter.

I wrote this a little after 7x02 aired, before we knew anything more about Killian’s daughter. I was completely off with it, but I’m still quite happy with it.

A Young Tempest | G, 1.3k words, written 20 Oct 2017 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Killian Jones raises his daughter and learns things along with her.

Another speculative fic about Killian’s history with his daughter. Once again, completely off, but it’s one of my favourite stuff I’ve written.

A Song for Goodnight | G, 1.8k words, written 28 Nov 2017 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Alice Jones I sings a lullaby to her son. A long time later, Killian Jones sings the same lullaby to his daughter. Warnings: Canon character death in the past.

I have feels about Killian singing his mother’s lullaby to his daughter. Some of these made it into this fic.

Untitled ficlet of Killian thinking about the white elephant he gave Ella | Tumblr link

A Family by Choice | G, 3.3k words, written 04 Feb 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: The curse is broken, everyone’s memories are back, and Roni with Weaver find a way to remove the poison from Rogers’ heart. But it’s not easy nor perfectly safe, and it might just as well pull that family apart again rather than bring it back together.

This one is a little sad, as usual with me. But again, lots of feels.

The First Rain | G, 590 words, written 25 Mar 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Alice is finally free and gets to explore how being under the rain feels.

This one includes only Alice, but it’s got a lot of focus on KnightRook. (If you thought you’d find happy stuff on my fic, you thought wrong. KnightRook was brimming with angst and I milked the hecc out of it)

Mother’s Day | G, 650 words, written 14 May 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Modern AU. Alice makes something for her papa for Mother's Day.

I felt that Killian deserved a little more love and appreciation for raising such a kind human as Alice all on his own. Father’s day doesn’t get as much appreciation as Mother’s day, especially considering it’s usually after school starts summer break. So I felt that in a modern setting, Alice would choose to celebrate her father and their love for each other on Mother's Day at some point.

Poor Old Man | G, 530 words, written 12 Mar 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: While in the tower, Killian realizes he's growing old. But not alone.

There’s a sea shanty with the same name, but only the title has a reference to the story. I just thought that it would be interesting to see Killian, who’d spent his centuries in Neverland not expecting to survive his revenge mission, realize that he’s not only actually growing old, but that he’s also got someone to love and love him back as he does.

Sad drabble of “What if Killian hadn’t managed to save Alice from being pulled into her worst nightmare in the finale?” Like, really sad. | Tumblr link

Sad Old Hook drabble in direct response to the fic above, because he did end up old and alone. Be sad with me, people. | Tumblr link

Marks | T, 1k words, written 15 June 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Little Alice wonders why she doesn’t have any marks on her back, like her papa does. Warnings: Mentions of past physical abuse of a teenager

If you know me, you know I headcanon Killian having multiple scars on his body, many particularly from the time he was a indentured servant as a kid/teen. Being the only one who Alice sees in her first years, she thinks that she’ll grow to have such marks on her body. This is a bit of a melancholic take on Killian trying to explain it to her.

Untitled ficlet about Old Hook “fusing” with OG Hook, becoming one with him. | Tumblr link

A New Experience | G, 1.3 words, written 19 July 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Killian makes a re-imagining of a storm in the tower for Alice.

Humans have more senses than vision. In this story, Killian does his best to create an experience for Alice by invoking her other senses. (Also nerding out for my music knowledge by adding an ocean drum)

Sad drabble about how Killian seeing his daughter pull away out of fear of hurting him sometimes hurts worse than the curse in his heart. | Tumblr link

Under the Weather | G, 2.2 words, written 12 Nov 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Young Alice gets very ill and Killian tries to help her.

Don’t let my habit for angst worry you, this has a happy ending. The medicine techniques are probably inaccurate, but I wanted to focus on a scenario of Killian trying to heal Alice with the very very limited sources he has.

Remembering Alice | G, 424 words, written 04 Dec 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: After Lucy's birth, Killian can't help feeling sad as he remembers how his daughter is forced to live away from him.

It is what it is. A short angsty thing. Only Killian appears here, but the focus is on KnightRook.

A Merry Little Christmas | G, 1.6 words, written 24 Dec 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: This year, Rogers and Tilly won’t spend Christmas Day on their own.

I don’t participate on Secret Santa and similar events, cause they stress me out over producing a specific kind of content at a specific time. However, all the love people gave to that year's KnightRook Secret Santa inspired me to write a kinda independent contribution, which came out as this. It may not be Christmas yet but the warm, fuzzy feelings are the same!

Untitled ficlet about re-awakened Killian thinking how his true self conflicted with Rogers’ memories and original goals. | Tumblr link

I barely remember writing this one, lol. I think, it may have started as a meta post, then it took a fanfic route on its own. Fics be doing that. I’ll probably post it on AO3 at some point, too.

Outward-Bound | T, 2.5 words, written 20 Mar 2019 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Old, dishevelled, broken-hearted Hook is drowning his sorrows in alcohol, when he happens upon a familiar face, someone he never imagined he’d see again. Warnings: Depiction of alcoholism

Oh, this be sad! Again, only Killian appears, but the KnightRook feels are prominent.

Sad (shocking, I know) drabble about Killian being taken away in the ambulance in 7x20 | Tumblr link

The Dreams That Won’t Come True | G, 2.1k words, written 14 Sep 2019 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: Killian and Alice find a way to be together through their dreams... but it doesn't end up being what they expected.

That made me sad. Almost made me cry when I first wrote it, and I’m very hard to cry.

Bonus Fics!

Untitled ficlet with Robyn and Killian; three moments between them | Tumblr link

Accepting Happiness | G, 1k words, written 26 Nov 2018 | AO3 link | Tumblr link Summary: A little after reuniting with Alice, Killian takes a moment to try and let everything sink in. Hooked Queen, open to your interpretation.

Some introspective thoughts on how Killian and Regina would feel, right after the climactic ending of the finale, the one set before the final scene. Only Killian and Regina appear, but KnightRook is in focus.

#KnightRook #kr ff #Alice Jones #Alice Jones ff #Killian Jones #Wish Hook #Wish Hook ff #piracytheorist writes

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mean-scarlet-deceiver · 3 years

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1 - I love the image of Thomas singing ABBA. Does any other engine like music to that degree? 2 - Do any engines have any idea of how human reproduction works? Has there ever been a moment where an engine makes a sex joke just because they know what it means and that it will make every human around lose their minds?

1. Rhythmic singing seems to be a thing In Universe, so I don’t think it’s a stretch that music is popular among engines.

In general, I imagine engines get more into the rhythm than the melody side of things, given that their own lives are soaked in rhythm.

That being said, I’ve posited Henry liking Romantic art pop (like, very early, kinda-moony Genesis, for instance) and Gordon having a thing for opera. I love to imagine, too, Bear bringing rock and the 60s in general into the Tidmouth sheds (with the exception of Henry, who is—covertly—sympathetic, the rest mostly go into grumpy, square ‘wtf even is this rubbish’ mode. They’re the wrong damn generation, okay?)

Also, while the TV writers have gotten many things wrong, and while the episode itself is kinda trash, I think they were (for a change) dead forking on with Edward loving his brass band (and probably any happy, live, local, outdoor sort of music… I doubt he has a too-discriminating ear).

As for our Sodor friends in particular, in the later multicultural and Spotify ages, at some point they will surely get exposed to drum-heavy African pop. And (again, given the “rhythm” thing) I think it will be an instant hit.

2. LOL. Okay, I didn’t think of that scenario—engine makes sex joke to just slay every human in the vicinity. That’s inspired.

I did once post a ficlet where my OC, exchanging insults with his driver, innocently deploys one that’s sexual and that, honestly, uses words of whose meaning he has no idea…

… and the driver just sort of dissolves into hysterical wtf-am-i-even-doing-with-my-life existential crisis.

In general, from what we see of Sodor in general, there is a strand (not the whole story—but definitely a strand) in the humans’ behavior where they treat the engines like children. Also, they are repressed Britons during a repressed age (for the first half of book series, anyway). So, railway and dockyard and etc. workers or no, there is a widespread code of “no, engines don’t need to know that stuff.” (They may have a LOT of fun with the on-going game of “who can give the most ridiculous answers with the straightest face” when an engine asks the meaning of some sort of curse word or comment.)

Of course, the engines themselves have eyes. But, given that they are made and work in the same environment that the humans have made, the ones who figure it out are not, I believe, chomping at the bit to broadcast their discoveries to everyone else.

Though I’m sure those conversations between trusted friends of “you’ll never believe what I saw in the yard last night” are hilarious... with lots of off-base speculation and terribly awkward mechanical vocabulary used to describe humans’ “hidden parts” as well as any coupling, servicing, or maintenance acts that they may witness.

#chatter #tw: sex #ttte analysis #ttte headcanon

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moonlightpastime · 3 years

Note

Hmm gonna throw Mistaken for Couple + Sleep intimacy Zakkura your way for whenever you might want to play with it. :3 (Also possibly revealing my secret identity with this prompt lol)

Oooooooo! Delicious lil combo indeed.

(also sorry. it’s me. of course this turned into basically a mini-ficlet on it’s own lol)

Hmm...okay. Imma be a basic, trope-y bich then lol. Scenario I’d probably play with in a canon-ish setting would be Cadet!Cloud and Zack kinda bumping into each a couple times- maybe brief mission overlaps or something after Modeoheim? And since they’d hit it off so quick that just continues. And of course people take notice. For one thing it’s weird for a First Class to be hanging around and all. And sure Zack’s got a reputation of being pretty chill and outgoing. What surprises the other Cadets is Cloud. Because Strife’s always been stand-offish and stuff.

So of course the rumours start flying. And there’s the mix of usual nasty ones “Sleeping with Fair to climb the ladder.” ect. But there’s also some squad-mates of Cloud’s who don’t think that’d really be the case. Maybe there’s something more genuine there- though it’s still a bad idea considering Zack’s basically one of their CO’s.

So one mission comes along and Zack kinda meets up with the tail end of this little sortie that the cadets were off training in. It runs later than they planned so they all just decide to camp it out and head back to HQ the next morning. Being the country boys they are- and with that ‘weird’ chemistry Cloud and Zack are pretty quick to get things organized and get a legit pretty cozy camp.

Only a sliiiight problem in that they don’t actually have enough space in the trooper tent. Meant for a four man squad, not five. So of course, SOLIDER Fair slings his arm around Cloud’s shoulders and says, “Then I guess this guy’s bunking with me.” since Zack’s been packing his own small tent for his mission. Cloud flails and blushes a bit. “O-oh. No I can do watch duty.”

Zack just rolls his eyes and jostles the blond. Puts on his friendly ‘commander’ voice. “We’ll do it in shifts Cadet. Just like always.” So they work out a quick schedule. Couple hours each so they can all get some rest after their busy training. Cloud’s got first shift since he ‘volunteered’. Zack takes the last one- because he’s slightly evil and loves being the one to wake up/break down camp.

Of course once they turn in, Zack isn’t really tired- always too much energy- so he wanders over to keep Cloud company. He’s sitting a way off from the camp. Away from the fire they decided to keep burning. Tends to help deter monsters anyway. Zack nudges Cloud with a knee as he comes up behind him.

“Aren’t you cold man?” He asks. Eyeing the wind tugging at the cadet’s clothes. Cloud shakes his head. Something almost wistful on his face.

“This is nothing compared to home.”

“Nibelheim right? That’s out west ain’t it?”

“Mm.”

They shoot the shit for a while, before Cloud gets a little flustered. Tells Zack he should rest since he’s waking up the earliest. And Cloud needs to focus on his job. So Zack puts on a little show of stretching and yawning- and NO. Cloud is NOT staring. He’s keeping WATCH.

Eventually Cloud gets tapped to head to bed. Hesitates for like an HOUR outside the tent. Or at least that’s how it feels like to Zack who of course isn’t sleeping. Scares the living day lights outta Cloud when he finally scoots over and tugs open the flap. Grinning up at the cadet, one eyebrow raised.

“You coming?”

Cloud shuffles in obediently, takes another age getting outta his boots, gloves combat gear. Just leave him in those baggy navy fatigues. The space is still pretty small, but Zack figures it’ll be fine. Cloud isn’t exactly a big person. (not that he says that. Out loud.).

Eventually Zack whines at him enough to get the other settled down anyway. The bedrolls really aren’t the most comfy thing, but they’d found pretty even patches of ground to set up their tents over so it could definitely be worse. Zack wiggles his closer to Cloud’s when the other very, very stubbornly won’t move himself. Logically it’ll keep them warmer and Cloud’s gotta be at least a little cold from watch right? Just makes sense. They tussle a bit, before Zack actually gets Cloud to relax again. Even crack a smile and it makes Zack’s chest feel warm. Cloud’s the first one yawning. Long, very busy day and he doesn’t have the same ridiculous energy as a SOLIDER (pointed look at Zack.) So Zack quite bugging him- as much- and they both settle in. Can hear the distant crackle of the fire and the two squadmates talking quietly outside. Thanks to his enhancements he catches little snippets of their conversation on the wind.

It surprises him a bit. Hearing people speculating him and Cloud are a ‘thing’. He shrugs it off more or less because he’s been around enough to realize Cloud’s kinda isolated. Honestly he feels bad for the people who don’t give the blond a chance. They’re missing out. Bit time, in Zack’s opinion. Cuz Cloud’s nice. And smart. And honestly just fun.

Warm too, now that the night time chill’s starting to fade from his skin. Zack snuggles up closer to soak some of it in and share his own. Habbit. Jungle kid after all. Prefers the heat to the cold any day.

He’s not really tired, not yet, still got that vague adrenaline pumping through his veins. Always kinda is. But there’s something kinda...mellowing about Cloud. Gives him something to focus on other than that constant itch to ‘get up, move, do something’. It’s nice. And pretty cute how Cloud’s hair falls in his face when he shifts. Can tell the other’s drifted off for real now. All those senseless little twitches and sounds. Used to freak Zack out a little bit when he first got enhanced. How he could catch the rhythm of someone’s heartbeat if he tried. But Cloud’s is nice.

Zack wasn’t really expecting to sleep that night. Usually has a tough time of it when he gets sent on missions that are way too easy. Takes a lot to tucker him out. But the next thing he knows he’s catching a voice. Snapping out of sleep. Something kinda soft brushing his face. Tickles a bit.

“U-uh. Sir?”

Hm. Cadet sounds weird. Almost nervous but Zack’s used to that. People act odd around him. SOLIDER status and all. Even Cloud gets kinda jumpy about it sometimes. But not as often as others.

“It’s nearly four a.m. Sir.”

“Oh right. Thanks. Go catch a few winks. We’ll be oughta here before long.”

“Sir!”

The tent closes again in a faint rush of chilly air and Zack yawns.

Gets a mouthful of hair for his efforts and sputters a bit. Blinks open and.

Oh.

Huh. Well that’d explain the extra warmth. He’s honestly not sure from the tangle their in if he’d moved in the night or if it’d been Cloud. Maybe a collaborative effort. But Cloud’s all tucked up against his front. One slender hand curled in the front of Zack’s heavy shirt. Zack’s got Cloud all wrapped up in a mix of their bedding and his arms. He’s done that since he was a kid. Grabbin’ up pillows and stuff to cuddle.

He thinks he prefers having someone to snuggle up with instead.

It’s super dark out. That weird hour before the sun starts to come up. Still enough to make out that funny little wrinkle of Cloud’s nose as the other grumbles in his sleep. Zack chuckles, leans back a bit so he doesn’t end up with another mouth of hair.

“You’re okay Spike. Get some more sleep.”

Takes a bit of careful shifting and wiggling to get them somewhat untangled. Doesn’t really succeed in keeping Cloud asleep either. Blue, blue eyes blinking open heavily. Makes a little mumble that could be Zack’s name. All confused and tired. Makes the SOLIDER chuckle again.

“At ease.” He says with a grin. Maybe a bit softer than his usual. If Cloud was like, actually awake, he’d grumble at Zack for real. Running joke with them. Started the first time Cloud thought he had to be all ‘formal’ and stuff around base. Dumbass.

They’re...friends.

...right?

#moonlight writings #prompts #asks #ficlet #final fantasy vii #ffvii #Zakkura #Cloud Strife #Zack Fair #ubububu I love these boys too much ^^"#hope this was at least SORT OF an answer to the prompt lol #thank you for the ask!

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thousandsunnywrites · 4 years

Note

How about law meeting a girl who has the same energy as Luffy and tends to touch him in some way all the time, her favorite being ridding on his back. He has long since given up trying to get her to stop, only to find out when he teams up with the straw hats she’s Luffy’s sister by blood. The oldest of Ace Sabo and Luffy.

Law

Law x f!reader; romantic

⤷ a/n: g o l l y this ficlet was a whopping 2.7k words 😭😭i really do love picking on law; also ps this isn’t proofread yet so enjoy the rawness ty

----

“traaafFFFYYYY!” He stumbles forward to balance the sudden weight tossed on his back, hands instinctively grabbing the legs wrapped around him. His life was never like this, until you came around.

It was a regular night in the submarine, Law doing his routinely watch through the sub’s finder. What the hell is that, he zoomed in to get a better view of the blurry image, hm, what is that?

He found a floating bucket under the sea with a tightly sealed lid and a hole carved on the upside with a plastic straw sticking out. Confused and hoping it was some lost gold, he made Bepo fish out the container and check it out. Instead of finding what he hoped to uncover, he discovered a limp body of a young female.

“It’s not breathing, captain! What if it’s been purposely tossed into sea... what if...” his words begin to trail off when the horrid realization of the sea being the graveyard to rest the corpse crossed his mind. He shrieked. They messed with the dead! They’re going to die! He watched too many Asian horror films to know where this is going.

Not before long, Law sighed out of annoyance, moving Bepo’s paw from the right side of the chest to the left, instantly calming down his tremors and leaving the poor bear sheepish.

Footsteps approach Law’s office and busted through the door. Low and behold, it was no other than Penguin and Shachi.

“Cap’n!! What’s wrong? We heard Bepo scream!—” Penguin tugged on Shachi’s sleeve, forcing his attention to the corpse curled in the bucket. Bepo covered both mouths before a squall was ripped from their throats, “Shh... it’s alive.”

“Room,” the iconic blue sphere encapsulates the room as Law unsheathes his Kikoku, “Scan.” The sliver glint of the sword flickered against the blue hue as it perused the physique. Producing no results, he sheathed his sword. “None” was all he could report.

“Oh thank god!” Penguin leaned over the large wooden pail, examining the face of the woman. “She’s kinda cute,” his hand reaches out to caress her cheek. “Mind if I say that I saved her?” He bantered with a sly smile.

“Move outta the way, lemme see!” Shachi shoved Penguin, an instant grin apparent inside his face.

“Stop fucking around.” Law jostled the apologetic duo to hoist majority of the body’s upper half out the bucket. “Bepo-ya, grab the feet”

“Roger!” He saluted before doing as told.

“Pen-ya, Shachi-ya,” their attentions turned to him, responding with a “Yes, boss?”, to which Law replied, “Get out.” As they left, the captain and first mate transfer the patient to the resting ward and laid her on a more comfortable bed.

“Catch some sleep, Bepo-ya.”

“What about you Captain? Who’s gonna watch her if she wakes up?”

“I will. Go ahead and sleep. Lack of sleep isn’t good for your fur.”

Bepo bowed, trusting all will go well since the captain was watching over her, and left to do as told. Meanwhile, Law pulled out a chair and raised his feet atop the bed. It was going to be a long night.

Surely, he must’ve fallen asleep because next thing he knows, he’s the one in bed and his crew bustled in the kitchen. It was a different ruckus this time; it wasn’t the same morning liveliness he knew, no, it was something more like... a party?

He made his way to the kitchen, head slightly pounding due to the loud vibrations bouncing off the walls. Swinging the kitchen door open, he’s faced with a festive bunch surrounding a stranger. Who the hell is she and how’d she infiltrate my ship?

Now on alert, he reached for his sword, preparing to attack but was stopped by his lovable white bear, who had multiple syrup stains resting on his fur. “Captain!!! Look!! She’s awake!!”

Who?

Oh yeah, the bucket girl.

“Yeah man that was suuuuperrrr crazy! I really thought I was gonna die out there!” A guffaw rumbled in the room, the crowd listening intently to what you have to say, “dude there was this big—and I mean big— whirlpool! With nowhere else to go, I just hid in a good ol’ barrel and hoped for the best.”

“Woah, you’re so cool Y/n!” The crew chanted as Law made his way through the crowd, sitting rightfully at his bench, head against his propped up hand.

“Hey, you must be the captain!” You greeted him with a hearty laugh while you reached over to the opposite side to pat his back, unintentionally thrusting his body forward with every rough pat.

“Don’t touch me,” he pulled away and dusted himself off, “I take it you’re better. Any pain?”

Completely ignoring his question, you continued, “Yeah how rude of me, I’m Y/n!!! I’m sorry for intruding so suddenly, it’s just I thought I was gonna die out there because—“

He held up a hand and finished the same sentence you said prior, “Yeah, yeah, there was a whirlpool and you thought you were gonna die, so your pea-sized brain said to stuff yourself in a barrel and hope for the best, yes, I’ve heard it earlier.” He said all in one breath. This amount of stupidity reminded him of a certain captain he was supposed to meet soon.

Instead of feeling offended, a big cackle bursted in the suddenly tense room. “I like you!” Slamming down your fist on his table as a sign of determination, he saw that same look of craze. Oh, how he could never forget that gaze.

“From here on out, I’m your crewmate now.” Cheers erupted from your mates, picking you up in rejoice to congratulate your recruitment.

“No, everyone quiet. You are not a part of my crew. Find yourself another place to loiter in. We don’t accept stowaways here.”

“Yeah no, it’s fine! I’ve been looking for a crew anyways.”

“I am captain of this ship and when I say I will toss you overboard if you insist you’re a Heart Pirate, I will toss you—”

“Y’all I’m hungry, got any food? Preferably meat, yeah?”

“Do not feed her.”

They feed you anyways despite his protests. He didn’t need another one like him on his ship, let alone in his crew.

“By the way, what’s your name Mr. Captain?” A piece of meat was ripped right off the bone. What a slob, Law grit his teeth, and as if I’ll accept her messy behavior. I’m tossing her right off the sub when she’s done.

“It’s Trafalgar Law!” Penguin chimes in, beating the captain to his own introduction. He grunts in annoyance. “Address him as Captain or doctor,” added Bepo.

“MMmmmmm,” your face twisted comically after a brief ponder, “Too boring, how ‘bout Lawsy?”

“No.”

“Trally?”

“Not a chance.”

“Gar.”

“Just shut up, I’m losing brain cells from you. Address me accordingly.”

“Okay, Traffy.” You burped as you chugged down the last of the juice.

Law could only sigh, because even if he threw you overboard, he’d still be stuck with you.

And that’s how it all circles back to Law giving you a ride on his back while walking along in the designated plaza. This is how his normal looks like nowadays. And nowadays, he doesn’t complain, even if he hates being ordered around, he just does it. His crew speculates him having only a soft spot for you, but he denies it every time. It was obvious though.

Today was the day he and Luffy agreed to meet at Dressrosa to take down that son of a bitch named Doflamingo. Everything was going as plan.

“Hey, Tra-guy!” The strawhats called putting from the other end of plaza, stirring a commotion contrasting the daily chatter of the citizens. He scans around and only sees Zoro, Usopp, Robin, Franky out of the troublesome gang. Where’s Luffy?

His grip tightened to hold you in place after your legs thrashed around in excitement, that never leaving irksome grin plastered on your features as always. “Stay still,” he sneered as he forced your legs to settle.

“Woah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Y/n,” Usopp whispered to Nami, to which she nodded in agreement.

“My, they have gotten quite close,” Robin’s chuckle was covered by her hand.

“Wow!” Franky drawled out, his stance in his usual super pose, “Since when did you two get together?” The glint of his shades gleamed as Law approached.

Law simply responded with a “Never” and carried on with discussing the plan that Luffy and most likely his crew won’t follow suit—but it was worth a shot. Hell, he didn’t even bother to explain it to you, knowing you’d do your own thing anyways like what you were trying to do now.

“Traff, Traff, Traff!” With every chant, you kicked your legs outwards to catch his attention.

“What, what, what.” He propped his arms upwards to readjust your sagging position caused by the sudden movements. The strawhats paused their chatter, noting that the stoic doctor had no sign of vexation on his face. That was a first.

“I’m hungry,” you smooshed his cheeks together. With a lilt, you asked, “Food?”

He casually nods, telling you “Later”, inattentive to the cheek smooshing and now cheek pulling. Nobody said anything, but it was obvious he had a soft spot. I mean, nobody can touch him—let alone his face— like that. If they tried, they’d be in a million pieces.

“Guys!!” The scream approached fast along with a mob of angry citizens following, “Got the meat! Now run!” The strawhat captain zoomed by, dragging the rest of his crew and allies along with him until stopping at a hidden alleyway.

During the time of escape, you hung your head down as Law transferred you from his back to his chest, face-to-face, in one swift motion, so you never caught a glimpse of the runner.

“‘Eyyyy, Tra-guy! Didn’t even notice you’re here!” The man gnawed on his meat while stuffing the leftovers into his big orange bag.

“Glad to see you too, Strawhat-ya,” he greeted back, eyes meeting with yours for a hasty second before trailing his gaze to your relaxed lips. It was intimate, seeing you close to him, bodies pressed together, arms around his neck and waist whilst his rested on the underside of your thighs. You and him always been together since the day he was held at gunpoint to recruit you, so it was normal for him to have some form of physical contact, whether it’d be hand holding to prevent you from straying away or the constant elbow hitting the back of his head while you whistled a verse or two. Giving you piggyback rides was common, so why did his heart start racing? This is what he always did, what was so different that could make him feel heated?

His chain of thoughts broke when you ripped yourself off of him to hug Luffy. “It’s been so long,” the shorter make cried, “I missed you Y/n! So nice seeing you out here! Especially with Tra-guy.” Seemingly impossible, your arms drew him tighter to you. “I missed you Luffy. God, I’m so happy to see you alive, I read all those articles. Really making big moves out there, kiddo.” Dramatic tears flowed out both his and your eyes, basking in the nostalgia and memories you shared.

To you, it was a touching moment; but to others, it was a cloud of confusion.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Usopp’s question dripping in disarray. But, their confusion was unparalleled to Law’s. That’s who you reminded him of—Luffy. He fell in love with someone who’s basically Luffy. He fell in love with Luffy’s sister. He fell in lo— no. No he’s not in love, what is he thinking?

“Huh, that’s a shocker,” Law’s lips were dry, mouth slightly agape as he watched the two monkeys hit it off.

Parting ways as the sun retired for business, Law took you to the hotel he had a reservation for. He was definitely gonna ask about Luffy. Grabbing the keys, it was a nonstop travel to the bedroom. Gotta hand it to Mingo, the bastard is a sick fck but he has some classy taste. The hotel was flooded with the natural shine of the moon, decorations silk and simple to compliment each other and the luxurious smell that was hard to miss.

Immediately upon entering the room, the first thing you checked was the fridge, searching for sweets whilst Law leaned idly against the doorframe as he watched.

“Yes, they have kinder eggs,” you shoved an egg in his field of view, “See?” He lowered your hand away from his face and ran his calloused fingers against his hair. It was a long day today, and he was tired as hell, but in this moment, all he wanted to do was to watch you.

“Want some?” Already munching on the Cadbury you found, you waved your face in front of his to break his daze.

“What?”

You simply pointed and broke off a piece to lay it against his outstretched palm.

“No wonder you seemed familiar to me,” he started, “You’re his sister.” Responding in a hum, he continued, “How did that happen? Sister by blood or by choice?”

“By blood dummy,” you popped a jawbreaker in your mouth, “We grew up together. If Ace and Sabo were being a jackass, I’d beat their ass flat. They were such bad influences! But seemingly in a good way..? They were like brothers to me too, ha, I was kinda like their mom if you really think ‘bout it,” Your mouth stopped sucking as the words you said became more and more sentimental. “I miss them. Ace, Sabo, and Luffy. But I’m happy. I guess it’s just... with everything... it’s nice seeing him alive and laughing. Enjoying life. And happy! Must’ve been hard on him all by himself. Besides, I can’t bear to lose another brother, not again.”

“I understand,” naturally that was his response, being that he could empathize since he did lose a sibling, a mother, and a father—twice— because of people. The world was fucked up. No other words were exchanged, effectively ending that convo.

You dug through the multiple bottles of wine, haphazardly throwing them away to search for more candy. A set of hands joined you on this search, crouching right beside you.

“Seems like you need help.” He offered a tiny, yet genuine, smile, to which you smiled back.

After endless digging, you found a can of whip cream and laughed as you sprayed a heaping load on the doctor’s nose before running around. He chased after you, grunting and hitting his long limbs against the small obstacles you placed, and lost you after he moved said objects to clear the path. You climbed onto the wall and pounced on his back, causing him to fall down completely, the cream crushed against his pointed nose and marbled floor.

“I win,” you sat on him as he struggled like a caught spider underneath your weight.

“Okay, I concede. Get off me.”

You flipped him over so his face was towards the ceiling, which was dark after you turned off the lights, and laid back on his chest. His chest had a subtle, yet rhythmic rise to it and made you fall asleep without trying too hard. You peeped a sigh of content before snoring away.

He admired how peaceful you looked when he wasn’t busy babysitting you. The moonlight doused your features in a soft light, turning even the harsh features into something delicate like a flower. The way your lips parted to let out obnoxious snores, the way your hair is tousled in a perfectly imperfect manner, the way your eyelashes contrast your skin tone, the way how there’s something about this moonlight that makes him wanna just lean down and plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

So he does.

You barely felt it graze against yours.

His hand caressed your hair with feathery light touches and his other brushed against your cheek.

Only the moon knew about the endearing look hidden in Law’s eyes that night; it was that same endearing look that showed he was in love.

#one piece #one piece scenario #law x reader #trafalgar law #okay this was self-indulgent #Law is a simp

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ifeveristoday · 4 years

Text

A very belated happy birthday to @gracenm. I wrote you a Boom! verse ficlet post-Hellmouth, which I know you haven’t read completely - but this is all speculation and will never happen in the comics anyway. 😂

In Case of Emergency 1/1

Buffy wasn’t surprised when she turned around and saw Angel, his hands stuffed into his pockets and looking apologetic. It should worry her that it wasn’t surprising. After their ordeal in the Hellmouth, there was this new awareness that she could only describe as Angel-sense. Other vampires – and Xander had their own distinct signals that alerted her when they were close. Angel-sense felt different. It irritated her.

She crossed her arms and stared up at him. “What’s wrong now? Is there an evil epilogue we have to fight?”

Angel shook his head. “I just wanted to say – I’m sorry.”

“You’ve already said it. It’s fine. You can go.”

“Buffy –”

“Nuh-uh. Save it. I appreciate what you did – it was a really big help,” Buffy held up a finger. “But you don’t have to do it anymore. I’ve got it under control. Kendra and I, we’re working stuff out. But you need to be in LA and doing…your stuff.”

“I didn’t come about that,” Angel said. “I’m sorry about what happened when we weren’t fighting for our lives.” He grimaced. “I’m not good at sharing personal information.”

“You don’t say,” Buffy said dryly. “Because telling a girl you’re a vampire with a soul is top secret information, even though I’m a Vampire Slayer and it’s my job to know that sort of thing.”

“I panicked,” Angel admitted. “I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

“My best friend is a half-vampire teenage boy,” Buffy said. “Kinda gave me a crash course in changing my perspective on things.” She sighed and looked up at the sky. “I get it, okay? You feel guilty about lying and now you’re here to make nice. Fine. I’m over it.”

“It doesn’t sound like you’re over it.”

“Because it sucked,” Buffy snapped. “I thought –” she bit her lip. “It was an intense situation. But I knew you had my back, even though I’m a stranger. And maybe we were becoming friends.”

“We were,” Angel said. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Well you did. And I get to be mad about it, okay? I don’t have hundreds of years to be all mature and graceful about people hiding who they are.” “That’s not fair. You’re the Slayer.”

“Yes. And I’m also grounded for life thanks to that Hellmouth field trip, and I’m going to be late if I don’t finish this for my mom.” She waved a sheet of paper at him.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a grocery list. Eric’s grilling for dinner tonight and Mom finally let me out of the house to go somewhere besides school.”

“Oh.” Angel rubbed the back of his neck. “Need a hand?”

“There’s not going to be demons at the grocery store, Angel.”

“Oh. Right. I’ll just go.”

Buffy took in his hunched shoulders and dejected expression and sighed. “Do you know anything about cuts of meat?” She wrinkled her nose. “Actually, you probably are the best person to ask.”

He gave her a small smile. “I’m more of a liquid diet guy these days. But I can help you out.” ~/~ The fluorescent lighting in the store made Angel look even paler, and Buffy was aware of the other shoppers’ glances as they passed by. She nudged Angel. “Have you ever thought of using self-tanner to cut down on the glare?”

Angel didn’t look at her as he checked the butcher’s display case. “It makes too much of a mess.”

“You didn’t!”

“It was the eighties. I don’t want to talk about it.” Angel pointed at a tray. “Strip steak. It’s tender, grills quickly, and it’s on sale.”

“Perfect. I’ll take three.”

As the butcher wrapped her purchases, Buffy studied Angel. Aside from the paleness, Angel looked like a regular guy. Well, a regular tall guy. Who wore black everything except for his red shirt, and he would not look out of place at an open mic night at her favorite café. She tried to imagine Angel standing in front of a microphone singing, and went blank. That was ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as Giles being a regular performer at the mic nights. Angel caught her staring and she whirled away; her face suddenly warm. He handed her the package, his fingers brushing against hers. Buffy felt the Angel-sense prickle all over and pulled back quickly, the package tucked up protectively against her chest. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“I just need to get some rolls and then we’re done.”

“I’ll meet you outside?” Angel shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry. I just need to be…outside.”

“Oh. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you outside then.” ~/~ Angel felt better as soon as he stepped out into the dark. It was too bright in the grocery store, and there had been more people than he anticipated. He realized his mistake in accompanying Buffy to the store as soon as he stepped through the automatic doors. There were too many human smells and noises and he could hear Buffy’s heartbeat over all of it, the steady thump thump and then acceleration when he caught her looking at him.

It was the way she was looking – her features unguarded and soft as she gazed at him. There was no trace of the furious hurt girl who said with cold finality, “Don’t touch me.”

He shouldn’t have gone looking for her. His wounds healed a day after they escaped the Hellmouth and there was no reason for delaying his trip back to Los Angeles.

Except he felt the need to explain – a stupid and wild need that bordered on pathetic. Please don’t be angry with me, Buffy. I’m sorry, Buffy. It was madness. He wasn’t allowed to feel this way about anything – and certainly not – Lilith had read the future wrong. Buffy Summers had nothing to do with his purpose and he was a fool to stay a night longer in this cursed town.

The sound of Buffy’s sneakers across pavement clued him into her arrival. She swung the plastic bag in her hands. “I’m all set. Thanks for the help.”

“Buffy—” “Angel,” she said at the same time. They shared an awkward laugh and he nodded at her to say, you go first.

“I’m still mad at you,” she blurted out. “I mean, not as mad as I was before. But I was thinking about it while I was in the check-out line and the woman ahead of me had about a million coupons, so I had the time – but, I think I understand why you didn’t tell me. Without you, shutting down the Hellmouth would have been a lot harder. It would have been difficult to focus if I knew you were a vampire upfront, because…no offense, you guys aren’t trustworthy.”

“None taken,” he said.

“And I already thought Drusilla was going to backstab me, so to have two vampires and wondering about their loyalties – definitely would have messed up my concentration. Instead, I had to worry about it being a sick game to you halfway through,” He grimaced. “Sorry.”

“You keep saying that, but that’s not what I need, Angel,” Buffy said. “I get why you thought you couldn’t tell me, but you still lied. I don’t like that. And I need to be able to be angry without you looking like a sad clown painting and making me feel guilty about being mad.”

“I look like –” Angel felt his face. “A sad clown painting?”

“You know what I mean,” Buffy said, exasperated. “I see your face and I get all these mixed-up feelings and I don’t have time for that. I’ve got school and I have to fix my relationship with my mom, and I don’t even know where to start with Giles and my friends. There’s just a lot. I can’t add to it anymore.”

Ah, he remembered this ache. The rejection was as familiar as a well-worn coat. “No. I understand. I’m going to leave.”

“That would be for the best,” she said softly. “But. Angel?” “Yeah?”

“If you ever need help in LA, call me. I owe you a favor.” She smiled. “Or maybe you can show me your favorite spots.”

He nodded, his throat tight. He handed over his phone wordlessly and Buffy entered her name in his contacts, adding a cross emoji next to it. It was a little thing, more of a leaf than a whole olive branch – but he took it with relief. Buffy was still his friend. He needed friends more than ever. In his long decades of experience, one wave of evil usually gave rise to another. It was important that he had the Slayer on his side.

He banished the unbidden voice that said she was anything more. It would never happen.

#boom! verse #my fic #i write things #disaster grumpy bats #the ballad of buffy and angel #buffy summers #angel

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jacksgreysays · 6 years

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Hey there. Would you ever write a story where Shikako has to travel to the Land of HotSprings and see the damage she's caused and the amount of lives she helped took? cause, ya know, I like when Shikako is in despair lol. I love Shikako but it can be argued, she has done more bad than good, for, uh, existing. However, I won't change anything about Shikako, flaws and all.

Yes… maybe? Well…

My immediate thought was to make it related to this ficlet aka, post-canon Kankurou and Shikako hanging out and trying to be less traumatized together.

And like, it would be sort of… Shikako goes to hang out in Sand ostensibly to research the Gelel phenom (and blow up shit in the desert and make a glass canyon) and Kankurou hangs around and is a Theatre Nerd and then when she finally is more at peace with herself, the two of them go back to Konoha and stop by Land of Hot Springs on the way…

Except then I checked the Naruto world map and that makes no geographic sense for Kankurou and Shikako to stop by Land of Hot Springs on their way back from Sand because it is on the opposite side of Land of Fire so…

I mean, I guess they could just be traveling around together for funsies? Like… she’s also been researching other places and Kankurou probably produced an international hit and there’s some pyrotechnics in his show which he might as well have Sparky do anyway…

But that’s kinda… I mean, don’t get me wrong. A lot of my favorite DoS ficlets are the canon-ish semi-compliant chapter responses / future speculation but I think what I just described above is more about Shikako getting closure from the whole shinobi lifestyle as opposed to specifically the Land of Hot Springs (although that is, in its way, the first unstoppable horror).

So I think for something more Land of Hot Springs centric… OH!

So you brought up how Shikako’s existence has done more harm than good in the world and combined with just the whole celestial back and forth of Jashin vs little god that occurred during that arc and also the whole vibe of this asx box event, especially yesterday’s post about mobius stories, I guess what I’m leading into is:

What if Shikako were Jashin?

Or, maybe, not Jashin specifically, but a god of chaos/destruction/suffering. (Although, the thought of little baby Shikako being born with the mark of Jashin on her forehead and it fading as she grows such that she doesn’t know about it, is pretty fun. Because then there’s the cool opportunity of Shikaku RECOGNIZING the symbol when Tsunade brings him in on the situation and it’s kind of this balance in which Shikaku the father and Shikaku the jounin commander are at odds. I mean, of course his father side is going to win–but still. Internal conflict and outside POV for unknowing literal god Shikako is GREAT)

The main problem with Shikako returning to Land of Hot Springs is that I’m pretty certain that everyone with even the slightest inkling of her mission and the aftermath take great pains to ensure that she NEVER HAS TO GO BACK THERE. So either she’s going behind everyone’s back to do so which… hm… canon Shikako would not want to any time soon, but perhaps literal-god-of-chaos-destruction-and-suffering!Shikako feels compelled to do so (either as a Jashin version, to go with that mobius vibe, in which she returns to the beginning and the end or as a non-Jashin version in which the god within her surveys the place of her victory against an older god and also one of her “greatest” acts) or this is, again, a post-canon future fic where people aren’t guarding her against herself as much.

I… would very much like to write this, hbkmzk, but I think I need. Hm… if you’re interested in this ‘verse, please send in a follow up prompt of maybe three or four other outside POVs or maybe a few details you’d like to add to this ‘verse or even a cool title/quote? Or, like, just ask me a few questions about this 'verse and me coming up with the answers should be able to do the same. It’s like… this fic is almost there but I just need a few more pieces for that final push.

Help me out with this ficlet/check out the Ask Box Would You Ever!

#jacksgreyson #hbkmzk #prompt response #ask box would you ever #brainstorm #fanfiction #dreaming of sunshine #naruto #shikako nara #sabaku no kankurou #shikaku nara

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mayonara · 6 years

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Hi ! If it isn't too much trouble, can you write anoter hospital fic? With Dick still the newbie nurse and Jay as a patient in a coma whose spirit grows attracted to him and kinda follows him until he wakes up? (idk my mind is weird sometimes >.

This was actually really interesting to read! I’ve actually always wanted to write a weird spirit ficlet so thanks for sending this!

The strangestthings always happens to the ones that don’t pay attention. Or in other words,the ones who tend to have bad luck. Jason was probably one of them. He knew hewasn’t dead, not exactly. Seeing that he was staring down at his body, layinglifeless on a hospital bed and hooked up to tubes that trailed back to themonitors. Where it clearly showed that he was still alive and beating, thoughjust unconscious. His heart rate was steady, but he was still asleep.

The odd thing was,how the fuck was he looking at himself from up above? Up above meaning, he wasfloating around like some spirit and gawking down at himself. Jason huffed abreath and brought his hands to his face, inspecting them. He was mostdefinitely completely there, a bit transparent if he had to describe himself,but he was still very much clothed and himself.

It was eerie. Almostreminded him of those horror or sci-fi movies. Okay, well, he was probably asci-fi movie himself right now. Since he was hit by a car during traffic, nothis fault, and ended up hospitalized. He was taking a left turn on agreen when a car decided to speed up and hit him right smack on the passengerside, sent his car flying and hitting the light pole. He was aware of himselffor a few seconds, and knew he’d been bleeding, that his body ached and hurt inall places and his head was throbbing in pain. And soon, he passed out. Nextthing he knew, well, he was a fucking spirit of some sort.

Floating around inthe air like he was part of the air. Though he could move around, he figured itwas actually more fun to stay up above versus on the ground. Sighing softly, heswam down and floated right beside his body, eyes squinting in wonder. He couldsee that his head was wrapped in bandages, face all battered and bruised. Hisbody as well seemed to be in awful shape, leg in a cast and strung up and anarm in a brace as well. Fuck, the asshole had done a number onhim. How long had he been asleep anyways?

Jason wasn’t dumband knew that his body was probably in a coma considering his spirit hadsomehow detached itself as odd as that was. While he hovered about, he let hismind ponder when suddenly an idea lit up in his mind.

Maybe he could justtry putting himself back in? Maybe that would work?

Worth a tryanyways. Jason attempted to jump right back into his body, but he was blockedout, ran into a wall or more specifically his body as he was knocked away.

“What thehell?!” hecried and rubbed at his head. Who knew spirits could get injured?

As he was mopingabout, he heard the door click open and immediately ran off to hide himself,only to realize that he probably couldn’t be seen anyways. So he settledhimself back at the top of the ceiling, watching as a male nursed entered theroom.

Jason hummed aloudto himself as he narrowed his eyes at the nurse, checking him out. His body wasfucking fine, muscular and toned in all the right places. Hecould just tell he worked out seeing how those biceps fit firmly into his shirtsleeves and his chest protruding out just slightly. And not to mention he hadbeautiful dark hair, looked soft and silky. He was sure he was good-looking aswell and as if to answer his speculation, the nurse turned around to faceJason’s body, revealing his face in full view to Jason’s spirit.

As expected, he washandsome with sun-kissed skin and pretty blue eyes, a masculine and finejawline with a beautiful pointed nose. Soft yet sharp features, enough to beconsidered a 'pretty boy.’ Yeah okay, he was definitely apretty boy and Jason was kind of sad that he couldn’t exactly interact withhim. Since he was a damn ghost, er, spirit actually.

“HeyJason,” the nurse spoke and that sent a shiver down his spine. He wassurprised he could feel such emotions, couldn’t help but be attracted to thisnurse of his. How silken his voice sound, fluid and gentle. And then when hesmiled, oh fuck, it was blinding and Jason couldn’t handle itanymore. He flew right towards the male and hovered in front of him, eyesleveling down at his name tag.

“Dick,huh?“ Jasonmurmured to no one but himself.

Dick said nothing,hadn’t heard him speak and continued his check up on Jason, examining all hisvitals and running a hand through his hair, touching his forehead to check histemperature and all that other boring medical stuff. When he was finished, hehuffed a heavy sigh and placed the clipboard he’d picked up back at the end ofthe bed. "I hope you wake up soon,” he murmured, giving him one lastglance before he left the room, closing the door shut.

Jason decided tofollow him. Besides, it’s not like he had anything else to do.

Honestly hefelt like a bit of a stalker but well, since no one knew that he existed orcould actually see him, he didn’t feel so bad. Jason trailed behind Dick,watched closely as the man greeted everyone that passed by him, all theemployees of the hospital and even the patients. The expression on his face wasalways kind and soft, genuine.

As he turned thecorner, he bumped into a young boy and swiftly moved to catch the kid by thewaist, preventing him from falling on his butt. The kid’s eyes flickered at himand his lips tugged into a wide smirk.

“Grayson,”the boy said in a familiar tone.

“HeyKiddo!” Dick greeted excitedly and wrapped his arms around the kid,pulling him into a tight hug. “Come to visit me?”

The kid scoffed.“No, I came to visit father,” he muttered, but there was a slightpink crawling up his cheeks, and Jason suspected that he was embarrassed.

“Okay. Say hito B for me then.” Dick then gave him one last hair ruffle, which the kidtook with an immense pout, and let him go.

Dick continued onhis way and weaved through a bunch of patient rooms, checking on them and eventaking the time to chat them up a bit. Jason observed him in curiosity and forsome odd reason, found himself a bit smitten with the nurse. He was justso nice? With the way he treated others, always patient andwore a smile on his face. He was respectful and if someone got a bit out ofhand, like typical people were and whirled up a complaint, he handled itcalmly.

Though Jason didsee him retreat to the break room to cool off, huffing a breath and drinkingsome water to calm himself. So at least he had a method of de-stressing.

After he finishedvisiting his round of patients, Dick went to the bathroom and oh–Jasonshould probably stay out. He patiently waited for Dick to do his business andthen followed him back to the break room once again.

“Hey, so I’moff in about 15 minutes,” he spoke to a ginger-haired woman with rimmedglasses as she was typing away on the computer.

“Cool, be sureto sign off. See you later boy wonder,” the woman smiledteasingly and waved at hand at him as he just rolled his eyes in amusement.

Boy wonder eh?Seemed like they knew each other, quite familiar too. Jason wondered abouttheir relationship, but didn’t have time to think any further about it as hewas whisked away by Dick, floating behind him as they headed towards the lockerroom and oh–he maybe shouldn’t be in here.

But he couldn’texactly turn around and just back out of the room when he found Dick undressinghimself. Had his fingers curled around the hem of his scrubs, tugging it up andover his head and then tossed it onto the bench. And Jesus Christ,his back was damn beautiful with those fine curves along his muscles and god,he just wanted to run his fingers, following the lines that adorned his back.

Technically hecould and maybe he might just try it since it’s not like Dick would feel themand it’s not anything bad. Really, he’s just going to touchand then be done.

So he did. Jasondrifted closer towards the man until he was hovering just behind him, eyesstaring straight at his back and felt a lump caught in his throat as heswallowed. Dick was preoccupied with digging around his locker for a shirt andgod damn, the man was messy. His things were all over the place and nothingseemed to be neatly organized. Though that wasn’t a concern of his and returnedto his immediate task.

Hesitantly, Jason’sfingers hovered just mere centimeters away from Dick’s back before he drew upenough courage and pressed against it. Only to find out, well, he couldn’tactually touch or feel it and it just went right through. Figures. Hewas a damn transparent spirit after all.

Jason sigheddisappointingly and swiped his fingers through Dick once more to pull back tohis side and saw the man shudder.

“It’scold!” he exclaimed and swiftly slipped on a shirt as another shiverrippled through his body.

Oh. Did that havean effect of some sort? Maybe it felt like a wind was blowing by, similar towhat he’d seen in movies. Maybe those movies were slightly real, well at leastsome aspects. Jason was tempted to try again but restrained himself, didn’texactly want to torture the man too badly.

Dick finishedundressing, slipped off his pants and god damn, what kind of nurse was he thathe had such a defined and toned body? His legs were beautiful, lean yet thickin just the right places and okay, that ass. He’d noticed thatass earlier and it was plump and round, but firm and Jason just wanted to copea feel. Not that he could. Violation of Dick’s rights anyhow, but he couldadmire it from afar. Not to mention it was kind of cute that the man worebriefs with tiny little bats on them.

Dick put on someloose joggers and then zipped up a thick hoodie. He reached for his bag andstuffed his scrubs in there before he grabbed his keys. And then he left theroom. Jason followed him all the way down to the parking lot and watched as heclimbed in the car and drove away. He wanted to follow him home, but well, hesupposed he couldn’t exactly leave his body here so he retreated back to hisroom. Found his body lying there just as he’d seen it in the morning.

Maybe he couldattempt to sleep and hopefully his body would come through from the coma. Hewas looking a little bit scrubby now with some hairs growing on his chin andhis hair looking a bit oily for his taste. Ugh yeah, hopefully he could knockhimself out and come too.

Jason settledhimself on the nearby chair, attempting to lull himself to sleep. If spiritscould sleep.

Okay so spiritscouldn’t sleep and he’d been wide awake for days now, had just been hanging outin his hospital room or exploring other places. At least during the day hecould entertain himself with Dick, and that never got boring. He noticed thatthe man would visit his body once a day and greet him before he checked up onhim.

It was kind ofstrange because there seemed to be a bit of tenderness in his eyes every timehe looked at his comatose body, like he knew him. But Jason was sure he didn’tknow Dick from anywhere and this was the first time he’d seen him.

Well he couldn’tfind out too much from being a spirit since he couldn’t quite ask questions, sohe just passed the time by being Dick’s personal stalker. And the more time hespent around him, the more he grew fond of the nurse. He was just sosweet? Good? Nice? Jason didn’t know but there was justsomething about him that was attractive. Like the way he smiled. The way heseemed to always put his all into his job, and how he’d look forlorn when he’dfound something wrong with his patients. It was endearing.

He kind of wishedhe’d just freaking wake up soon so he could talk to the man. It’d been about aweek since he’d somehow extracted himself from his body.

Nighttime had felland Jason hovered before his body, eyes squinting and staring at his pale self.Damn, he looked gross. He was kind of tired at this point of being a freespirit. Couldn’t do much besides observe people and things while he spent hisnights restlessly. It was getting eerie and he was kind of freaking out that hemight just stay this way. He needed to get back into his body and soon.

So he tried oncemore to jump back in, but it rejected him, bounced him right out and Jasonhuffed a sigh.

Come on.

Maybe if he triedto sleep it off again the next time he’d wake up back in his own body. He hadto at least try.

There was a hand onhis forehead, soft and warm, a little bit rough around the palm, but it feltcomforting and he sighed contently as he relished in whoever’s touch it was. Hefelt the hand leave his skin briefly before fingers trailed gingerly down his cheek,a bit ticklish and he almost let out a giggle.

Who the heck?

Jason drew in abreath and slowly fluttered his eyes open. Immediate brightness struck hisvision and he hissed from the sudden intrusion of light chasing away thedarkness. It was blurry and he couldn’t quite see, had to blink a few times ashis vision slowly focused in. Eyes rolled back and he titled his head slightly,felt the hand that’d been touching him jerk away. Heard someone gasp softlybeside him as he turned to place his attention on them.

It was an angel.

“Oh,” theangel murmured, pretty blue eyes wide in astonishment. “Oh—um,” hesaid again and pinched his brows in concern.

“You’repretty,” Jason whispered, mind a little muddled from his deep and longsleep. He couldn’t really remember much and it was kind of hard piecinginformation together, but the first thing that came to mind was that whoeverwas standing in front of him was pretty and it just rolled off the tip of histongue.

“Uh,”Dick stuttered and flushed. “Thanks?"

For some oddreason, something was drawing him to the man and he couldn’t but be attracted,felt like he knew him when he really didn’t. This was definitely the first timethey’ve met, but there was just something about him that he kind of liked and itwasn’t just his pretty face.

"We should um—weshould call the doctors,” the nurse, whose name was Dick as Jason had readhis name tag, said.

“Wait.I,” Jason said and damn his voice was groggy, sounded like he hadn’t spokefor days. “I—Who are you?”

“I’m yournurse, Dick,” he explained and smiled gently. “You were in anaccident and ended up in a coma. It’s been a few weeks now.” And then hesighed gently, eyes a bit glassy as he gazed down at Jason, seemed a bitrelieved at the fact that Jason had woken up. “I’m glad you’re fine.”

Jason blinked,confused at the statement, but there was just something about his expressionthat read a little deeper than a simple nurse taking care of a comatosepatient.

“Do I knowyou?” Jason questioned. Maybe they did know each other and he wasforgetting from his coma times.

Dick chuckled alittle. “No.” Oh, well that’s strange.

“But—”Jason started and Dick hushed him.

“I knowyou, but you don’t know me,” he said and brushed a strand of hair back outof Jason’s eyes, thank god because it was annoying but he couldn’t feel anyenergy in his arms to do it himself. “We um–we met briefly at a coffeeshop. You accidentally took my order and then got me a new one. It was onlybrief, but I just–I don’t know. I remembered you when they brought youin,” Dick explained, nibbled on his lips in anxiousness

“Oh,”Jason said and squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to recall that memory. It wasslowly coming to him, and there it was. He did remember doing that,accidentally took someone’s drink, drank it, and then got called out by Dick.Initially thought ‘what a douche’ only to realize he was the real douche. So hetreated him to a coffee and they talked briefly. He was left with theimpression that Dick was handsome, but didn’t think too much of it since he wasin a bit of a hurry. So that was all lost and forgotten.

Until now that Dickhad rejuvenated his memories.

“I kind ofremember now,” Jason said and wow, that smile, so brightand genuine, was memorizing.

“I’mglad,” Dick said gleefully, lips curved in a pretty smile.

Jason hummedsoftly, also glad that he was able to meet Dick again because fucking, he wassmitten for sure.

“I’m going tocall the doctor,” Dick said and reached over his head to push a button onthe headboard of the bed. “In the meantime, let me check yourvitals.”

He could checkwhatever he wanted and Jason wouldn’t mind, but maybe he’ll reserve that tohimself. “Sure.”

“And…”Dick whispered ever so softly, the color on his cheeks deepening a shade.“We can get coffee after you’re discharged. Um, together. Whenyou’re better of course.”

Jason quite likedthe sound of that and smiled. “Sounds good.”

Now he just had to get himself out soon enough to take Dickout on that first date.

#JayDick #Jason Todd #Dick Grayson #prompt fill #my writing #ask box #spirit #hospital au #coma patient

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