#I have no clue what we're doing anyways

[morecreditthanideserve]

I cannot express how much I love class getting cancelled

[ferronite]

Drawing Every Abnormality - Part 6

O-04-08: Red Shoes

"The sanguine colour of the Red Shoes looks oddly familiar"

Featuring: Vera (Disciplinary Team Member), Eden (Disciplinary Team Clerk), Poussey (Information Team Member)

Wow what a nice pair of shoes I sure hope they don't make anyone commit murder.

Not my best work, not my worst. Guess this is what happens if you draw whilst your arm's covered in bandages. Oops!

Pretty fun interaction to draw, tho I'm not completely happy with the positioning/layout. Oh well~

Vera's an ex-clerk btw. This happens like 2 days after she gets promoted lol. Eden's one of her friends - they got pretty close when they were working together. He uh... didn't take her promotion very well.

She'll be fine, dont worry bout her~

...He won't be, though.

[mikkolas]

WHY NOT US? also known as ALL OVER AGAIN? also known as FUCK ME, DUDE, SERIOUSLY? also known as—(GUNSHOTS). | quote from the crooked moon

[buwheal]

eeeyyyy, got bored and tried to draw you from memory.

how good is my memmory?

[torao-chan]

in random leo facts we feel like sharing today:

i think the amount of times we've accidentally declared "we just have to get the vacuum out of the fridge" has helped our partner realize that while people often know what they intend to say, it is not always the same thing as the words that come out of their mouth.

no matter how simple or complex that thing may be.

[soobiniz]

I JUST REWATCHED PIWON MOVIE AND I HAVE THINGS TO SAY

[kalosian-woods]

hey, synchro anon here!

actually pretty curious about the rest of ash's pokemon during the bond business arc, like they definitely must've witnessed some stuff in some way. same thing with the rest of the kalos gang(except they witnessed the whole thing)

That's a pretty good question!! I feel like a large proportion of that would depend on how their (whoever it is + Greninja/Ash) relationship would've been prior to the whole thing, because it did start with an evolution and a split-second chance in some village no one else has ever seen. Going by AU rules for this, because geez barely anyone was out for Ash-Greninja ngl.

At the start, I don't think a lot of them would react? The birds (Hawlu and Talonflame) are probably more concerned with whatever Noibat is doing, and Serena with her group are dealing with the end of the Showcase season and Eevee herself while Bonnie is poking around places with Squishy and having fun (Clemont is doing Clemont things dw about it :P). Pikachu is the only one apart from Ash that has an inkling as to what's on the horizon and is the only mon that is constantly watching this, but is kind of powerless to stop their folie à deux, so to speak (that's definitely going to be a fic name btw). Tbf, Greninja is becoming Ash, right? Ash wants this. That's their strength, and Pikachu should be is comfortable in his own strength. Soon enough they'll grow out of their facination and become better. They have to. (I think deep down, Pikachu hates it. Not because Ash isn't his anymore, but because Ash isn't Ash. Isn't the one he chose, isn't the one he grew up with, isn't the one he travelled with. This Ash is a stranger. This Ash is leaving them all behind. All that's left is dust and smoke.)

Now that I think about it, wasn't Talonflame out there for the Anistar Gym Battle? While it wasn't there for the actual prophecy itself, bro must've felt the power in the battle and the way everyone held themselves throughout their time there. The focus that even the Professor was having. Talonflame would've definitely picked at Frogadier until he got a short answer, but left it out of his mind after hearing it. Great power in the future? That's called evolving, dummy!

Hawlucha is really going to have his metaphorical hands full with Noibat/Noivern, but I'm sure he's going to notice the difference, especially since he has trained with Greninja before. He knows how stubborn the frog can be, but seeing the way that they're both getting more crazier about the bond without any care for themselves is... not good, to say the least. He's a bit more softer now, so a lot less bickering would happen, but Hawlu wouldn't sit by and do nothing for long. At some point, even the best need to rest to continue on. Noivern has absolutely no idea what's going on but can sense how Ash (and Greninja) are more intense now. It's a bit unsettling, but then again have you seen Talonflame? Maybe it's just the way they express their feelings in battle. In the end, that's still her friends and family!

With the people themselves, Clemont was purely interested in it from a scientific point of view. Recording data of their transformations and documenting it will go a long way in understanding the bonds between people and Pokemon, and also a long way in solving the mystery that is Ash himself. This could be the key to a world where both people and Pokemon can live together! ...But the tent is always empty at night. And why does his own heart hurt when he sees the signal split? And why does he understand Wulfric when he shakes his head at Ash and tell him that he isn't ready yet? Wasn't Ash the ideal (in battling and with Pokemon and with courage most of all)?

Quilladin at first thinks it's cool but then goes on to think it's stupid, but he's probably jealous (...and maybe misses his friend) (and his Trainer's friend too, of course). Luxray thinks it's stupid too but that's their decision, and as long as Clemont isn't doing the same that's not her problem. Bunnelby gives no comment.

Serena has a bit more clarity and confidence with her intuitive nature at this point, or at least after Showcases, and feels very worried for Ash as a result. He used to train a lot before, it's true, but now he's going overboard. Greninja too. They're barely around, and they're getting hurt in ways that people and Pokemon do not get hurt. They're changing in ways... she doesn't like. And maybe it's because she lost the Master Class afterwards when it really hits her that she knows, utterly, that feeling of losing and not wanting to lose. To do anything to prevent that (her aching wrist is a reminder). Maybe... when they finally reach Snowbelle. Maybe that's a good place to talk. After the Gym Battle, he'll totally be a bit more calmer, right?

Braixen was just warming up to Frogadier when he goes back to being a prick as Greninja, so she thinks it's a resurgence of the Froakie mindset™. Pancham totally doesn't care but would not be opposed to oh, I don't know, Greninja actually being free to talk once in a while. Sylveon is just bombarded with feelings all around and just prefers to not be around them, thanks, but can and will step up to the plate later on in her own arc because enough is enough :(

Basically, it's a whole mess with the group lol. No matter how this AU goes, just know that everyone will have very loud opinions on the Bond but will find themselves hard-pressed to find the right moment to address it, because Squishy is gone and oh, no, we need another Princess Key and we lost Noibat to another strong wind, rip, and don't forget the invention about to explode in 0.01 seconds. And also Team Rocket.

[discoreptile]

As of yet unnamed game card art!

[sparrownnax]

Do you ship Judas and Jesus?

oh hey Jedus anon. personally i don't bcus it feels too close to RPF for my tastes, but i do like the concept of "devout traitor x forgiving god-become-flesh". it's an interesting dynamic. the love may have been there but it did not stop the predetermined.

[trans-soapberry]

This head canon is primarily "huh there's some neat little similarities" + "it would be funny" but I've begun to imagine meta Knight as having previously worked for nightmare in some capacity (he left because. Yeah no shit) but specifically what's funny to me is imagining his role in Kirby's adventure being like. Kirby. I must test you to make sure you can kill my old boss.

[justinefrischmanngf]

we ran into a friend of his (kind of a friend of mine as well, i know and like her) last night at the cinema and she was with friends of HERS and idk if he knew them or not bc i came out of the bathroom and they were all just chatting. but like..... i want to know what she thought of the situation............ it's absolutely none of my business and it doesn't matter at all, but i want to know if she was surprised that we were watching a movie together & i want to know what she thinks about the potentials & i want to know just . her thoughts .

[tthoroughfare]

still thinking about ellie's hair but this time about helping her cut it. canon!ellie cuts her own hair. modern!ellie cuts her own hair. every iteration of ellie butchers her own hair this could truly take place in any universe

heading over to her place because you're collecting her to head out, finding her in front of the bathroom mirror in a sports bra, kitchen scissors in hand and shirt thrown somewhere on the floor

just, like, unmethodically chopping bits off

she calls out a 'hey' when she hears you come in, not taking her eyes off what she's doing, pulling one of the foremost strands outstretched then snipping the end off.

"oh, fuck," she says when the piece of hair falls back in place, realizing she's cut way too much off. plus, it's completely uneven.

you scoff at her, coming up behind her and making a show of checking your watch. "is there a reason you've decided to do this now?"

"it was too long. it was pissing me off."

taking her arm, you pivot her around to face you, laughing lightly when you take a proper look. "dude, you've fucked the front up."

"i know, shut up," she whines sheepishly, attempting to turn back towards the mirror, but you stop her.

you examine the pieces, gently swiping them out of her face and trying to get them to sit in a better way. "it's not that bad, it just needs, like... blending?"

"yeah, what do you think i was trying to do?" she replies, words reducing to a short, breathy laugh. a small smile stays on her face as she watches you, eyes flickering over your face while you look at her hair, thinking how to mend it.

"sit down, let me try."

she pulls a little bit of an unsure face, but relents anyway, slowly taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub and handing you the scissors. "i swear to god, if i have to shave my fuckin' head because of you..."

you tut. "can't really make it any worse."

"rude."

"you're rude," you murmur, leaning down and beginning to make some attempt at feathering the choppy strands.

"i'm sweet."

"when you wanna be."

ellie blows air out of her nose and smiles gently in response. your left knee comes up to rest on the edge of the tub, thigh slotting next to her. she automatically shifts her hand onto it, thumb swiping over absent-mindedly as she looks up at you.

it's quiet as you concentrate, brow furrowing subconsciously whilst you try and fix ellie's mess. you didn't really have a clue what you were doing, just trying to make it appear more even without taking too much more off.

anyway, she's content to sit there gazing at you with a tiny, lopsided smile, eyes dripping with adoration as she smooths her fingertips over your thigh.

she breaks the silence halfway through, thinking out loud. "you look good."

you chuckle. when you first met ellie, she was shy around you; but since being together you swiftly figured out once she's out of her shell, she's a shameless flirt. "thank you. so do you."

"want me to eat you out before we go?"

you blow air out of your nose, leaning back to tousle her hair into place. "we're already late."

"i can be quick."

ignoring the way that makes your lower stomach flutter, you move to stand up straight. "did you do the back?"

"yeah, i think it's fine, though," she replies, feeling at the back of her hair.

"c'mere, let me check." you offer a hand to pull her up, and she turns away from you, allowing you to inspect her job. she's right, it looks fine; which makes you wonder how the hell she'd managed to mess up the part she could see, and not the part she was doing blindly.

you prod her in the back, feeling the way she jolts slightly. "you're good to go. that'll be a million dollars."

"ha-ha," she replies, pivoting around to look at herself in the mirror. she leans in, running a hand through the strands. "oh, yeah, it looks way better. thanks, babe."

"welcome." you lean past her to set the scissors down on the sink, pressing a small kiss to her shoulder as you do so. she turns around, taking you by the waist and pulling you into her, pressing languid, deliberate kisses over your neck.

"y'know, that kinda did it for me."

hand moving to thread through her hair, you chuckle at her statement. "why?"

she hums into your skin as she alters her path, mouth moving upwards and over your jaw, lips slotting against your own. "i don't know, 'cause you're hot. and you were, like, basically on top of me, looking all serious and concentrated and shit."

you laugh, taking her by both sides of her jaw, unable to help yourself from kissing her wantingly when you pull her back in.

of course you end up letting her eat you out before you go; ellie on her knees by the bed, your legs slung over her shoulders as she laps at your clit, fingertips pressing into your hips, roaming over your stomach.

you're already late, anyway.

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Tiny Bit of Angst I idiot4idiot I First Kiss I 1.8k I SFW

“We're out of Mountain Dew,” Eddie yells into the living room.

“There's another case in the garage, I think,” Steve yells back, “I'll go look.”

Eddie slams the fridge shut. “No, don't get up, I've got it.”

“Quit being sweet on me!”

He's teasing, it's nothing, but Eddie's pulse jumps anyway, horrified that he's being obvious again. “I'm not sweet on you! I'm repaying my life debt!” Not the whole truth but not a lie either. Satisfied that he's dodged a bullet, he jogs to the garage, grabs the 12 pack from the moderately-wealthy-person's-modest-second-garage-fridge and drops it off at the ultra-wealthy-person's-expensive-and-shiny-main-fridge. He brings two back to the living room, gets ready to leap over the back of the couch so they can resume the movie, before he realizes Steve is MIA.

“You taking a shit?” He yells out.

Steve doesn't answer, which he supposes is answer enough. He resumes his roll over the back of the sofa, cracks his can open, chugs, and waits for Steve to return.

The TV is still paused on Kurt Russell’s rugged face. What a man. Eddie idly wonders what Steve would look like with a beard. He could sketch it out and then hide the evidence in one of his old D&D manuals.

Speaking of Steve…

“Yo, did you fall in?!” No response. “Hello?”

Okay, now it's getting weird. A chill runs down his neck.

Steve is fine. There's nothing to worry about. It's just weird he hasn't responded yet; the downstairs bathroom is ten feet away.

He jumps up, just to check for himself that Steve is okay. Which he is, because everything is fine.

The bathroom is empty…

“Okay, this isn't funny, asshole! You know I have trauma!”

No response to that either. What the fuck.

“Steve,” he yells up the stairs next, “seriously, dude, where are you?”

He takes them two at a time, because there's no good reason for Steve not to be yelling back. He pictures him being chewed on by a last remaining Demogorgon and preemptively starts planning his own sacrifice. Because if Steve is dead on Eddie's watch, killed while Eddie had his head in the garage fridge, he doesn't deserve that second chance at life.

“Hello?” He croaks down the hall. All of the doors are ajar, but that's not unusual. They're forever in and out of the various rooms; Steve into Eddie's, Eddie into Steve's, the both of them into his parents' empty room because they have the better bathroom.

Still nothing from Steve. It's getting ridiculous. He's not being eaten by a monster either, too quiet for that, so what the hell is going on?

He marches into Steve's room and finds it empty too. He almost continues on to Steve's en suite but he stops, notices the comforter on Steve's bed is missing, which is weird. A clue, maybe? He glances around, a look underneath, a peek around the side of the bed, but it's nowhere to be found.

He goes to call Steve's name again but then he hears something, like a sniffle.

The closet doors are shut but between them is a chunk of Steve's blanket, a tiny corner sticking out at the bottom.

Eddie tiptoes over and listens.

Yup. Another sniffle.

He parts the doors gently.

Steve throws the blanket over his head before Eddie can see him, only getting a quick peek at his knees before they disappear.

“Uhh, wha’cha doin’ in the closet, Stevie?”

He thought he'd said it soft enough to not scare him but when he immediately bursts into loudy, snotty tears underneath his blanket, Eddie can only assume he's fucked up anyway.

He crouches down. “Hey, I'm sorry, don't freak out, it's just me. C'mon, man, talk to me, what's going on? You're scaring me.”

“I'm fine,” Steve croaks.

“Yeah…clearly.”

The lump that is Steve groans and then falls over, landing on a pile of old shoes, which he doesn't seem to notice or care.

“I don't want to talk about it.”

Okay. Now that Eddie knows Steve is upset about something, he thinks back to what they were doing before they paused the movie. Which was nothing.

“You said you'd seen The Thing before.”

Steve sniffs. “I have. At Mike's fifteenth birthday.”

“Okay. So why are you freaking out about it now?”

“Why the fuck- Uhh. Yeah. The movie. Scared me real bad.”

Eddie frowns at The Lump. So it's not the movie. Something happened when Eddie got up. Think, think, think!

“The life debt thing?”

Steve doesn't respond. He does curl into a smaller ball, which seems like an answer in itself. What it means, he has no idea. Why would that leave Steve a sobbing mess? It's not like he can undo Steve saving his life! Of course he owes Steve everything!

“Please talk to me,” he begs softly. “I'm not good at this. I'm not Robin.”

He gets a scoff. “Robin is also not good at this.”

True. Just because she's a girl doesn't mean she comes equipped to handle emotional outbursts. She's more of a ‘pat, pat, there, there' kinda gal.

“Would you tell her what was wrong?”

“Yes,” Steve admits after a short pause.

“Would you like me to go get her?”

“No,” he says, barely above a whisper. “But you don't have to stay in here with me. You can finish the movie if you want. I'll be okay.”

“Steve,” he pats what he hopes is Steve's shoulder, “I might not be good at this emotional vulnerability shit but even I know you don't leave your friends crying on the floor of their closet.”

Since he's touching Steve, he can feel the short, hitching breaths he's taking, trying so hard not to be heard.

“I'm fine. I'll be fine,” Steve tries to convince him, “I just need a bit to get over myself. Like a week or…six.”

“Over what?”

He sniffles some more. “Nothing.”

“I'm not leaving until you tell me what's wrong, dude.” To prove his point he shuffles fully into the closet and pulls the doors shut behind him. “There. Our closet breakdown.”

Steve groans, tries giving Eddie a little kick but his feet are trapped inside the comforter, so it feels more like a nudge.

“I'll be over here by this pile of old basketball jerseys when you feel like talking. Number twenty-one? Is that lucky?”

“This is so stupid,” Steve mumbles.

“Hey, you're in charge of this rodeo, just tell me what's wrong and we can mosey on out of here.”

“You sound like Wayne when you say shit like that.”

“Well, he did half raise me. Tell me what's wrong.”

“No.”

“So you don't trust me?” He says just to be an asshole, to get some kind of reaction. “We're not that good of friends I guess.”

That gets him a reaction alright, just not the one he wants. Instead of getting pissed, Steve somehow curls even tighter, near silent sobs emanating from The Lump.

All of this had had a sort of surreal, humorous quality before, finding Steve having a nervous breakdown on the floor like a toddler told to go to bed, but it's getting less cute now.

Eddie gets up and lays the opposite way, head down near Steve's. He wants to bundle Steve up and rock him like a baby, but it doesn't seem like Steve wants that. “If I'm really hurting you…if this is my fault and you want me to go, I'll go, but I don't want to. I want to fix this. What do you want me to do?”

He's quiet. Not actively crying at least. After a long stretch, he mumbles, “Is that what you've been doing this whole time? Trying to fix things? Doing what you think I want because you think you owe me?”

Okay, now they're getting somewhere.

“I do owe you, Stevie, but that's not why… That's not why.”

“Then why?”

He swallows. “Because you deserve more than you get.” There. That's fine. That's platonic and still vulnerable and absolutely true.

“And that's it?”

What the fuck does he say to that? ‘No, actually, I want to treat you like the god damned royalty that you are, not in the fake high school sense, but in the way that knights willingly followed Kings onto the battlefield?’

“What do you mean?” He asks instead, like the coward he is.

“I mean… You close all the curtains in the house when you notice I've got a migraine. You learned to play my favorite songs even though you think they're mediocre. You corral the kids when they get out of hand and start being mean to me. You invite me to family dinner at Wayne and Gail’s. We live together and make breakfast together and spend all of our time together and I guess that's just because we're friends. That's what friends do. We're just friends.” He's worked himself into a fit again.

Eddie can do nothing but stare at the blanket lump and try not to panic. Either Steve has been onto him for months and has finally had enough or…

“Stevie? Why are you crying in the closet?”

“Don't make me say it.”

He chokes on his own sob, months of being good, keeping it tucked away and out of sight, welling up in his chest and in his eyes.

He finds the end of the blanket and pulls until he can crawl underneath too, finding Steve with his head turned away, like he's still trying to hide. Eddie slides both hands onto the sides of his face and turns him away from the floor. He blinks at Eddie, looking every bit like a tragic Prince in a fairytale. Or a baby cow.

“Please,” he begs, voice breaking, “tell me why you're sad.”

Steve studies Eddie, eye roaming over the tear tracks Eddie can't stop, over his trembling lip, the blush that must be painting his cheeks. He's going out on a real limb here, betting it all, but Steve doesn't leave him hanging for long.

“I thought you were sweet on me.”

Eddie coughs out a relieved a laugh. “I am, baby. I'm so sweet on you.”

Steve's face could outshine the fourth of July. “Yeah?”

“Are you kidding? You think I'd crawl back into the closet for just anyone?”

“Oh my god,” he groans, head falling to land on Eddie's shoulder.

“Hey,” he nudges softly, “whaddya say we come out of the closet together?”

“Why do I like you so much?”

“Aww, you sweet on me, Stevie?”

Instead of answering, he throws back the blanket, bringing fresh air, and then Steve basically knocks Eddie into the door, spilling them out onto the floor of his room. He crawls on top of Eddie, pinning him down with all of his jock glory.

"I am so sweet on you."

And then he kisses Eddie. Kisses him like he's been thinking about it just as long as Eddie has, which is a real bitch of a realization. Months they could've been doing this.

He's got two handfuls of jean covered ass when Steve pulls back far enough to whisper, “We have to make up something else to tell Robin. She can't know it happened like this, I'll never live it down.”

"Let me touch your dick and I'll tell her whatever you want. You fought off a bear in the backyard and I was overcome with desire."

"Deal."

[astolfofo]

imagine trying to escape from yan phainon and suddenly you see his second form appearing..... i would die on the post tbh not even pray bc TO WHO?? BOY LOOKA LIKE A WANNA BE GOD

NAH WE'RE COOKED BRO ITS GONNA BE LIKE

"oh im free... hang on i can go hom- WHAT THE FUCK" And its literally just the second coming in front of your door. We might be cooked. Just slightly.

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

If you didn't know any better, you'd have thought you were staring right at the sun.

"What the fuck...?" you muttered. "Isn't it nighttime? Why is the sky so bright?"

You groan. Meh. Whatever. You already got this far, you already had the courage to touch the door, hold the doorknob, and open the door. You might as well go the whole length. It wasn't like Phainon had been home the past few days anyways. The goal was just to get as far away from Phainon as humanly possible so he couldn't catch up to you again.

And maybe this time you'd have a head start too, because you had no clue where Phainon was, and you honestly didn't want to know. All you knew was that you needed to run away before he caught you, unlike the past god knows how many times. It wasn't even like he pointed it out either. You wonder if he even knew, if he ever caught the hint that you didn't like him back.

You gently tap your foot on the road, as if testing water's tempreture. This felt risky. You didn't even plan this, you just simply decided to open the door because he wasn't around.

What if I get caught?

Maybe I shouldn't think about it...

You begin bolting in the other direction, away from the city. You had no clue what was out there, but you were sure you could survive it. You had to.

You can't come back here anymore. You can't do this anymore. Anything but being held in a hostage relationship. Anything but having to see him again, anything but having to come back.

Anything but... there...

You were never told what was beyond the city. You just knew that everyone who went there, never came back. Presumably they died, that would've been the only reasonable assumption to make. Slowly, you take a step back. Then another.

And it seemed like whatever it was... in the sky agreed with your choice too because when you looked up again, you had to squint and cover your eyes.

You'd recognize that face anywhere. Much to your displeasure. That was Phainon. You groan as you slide down one of the nearby pillars. He'd always be around.

And so, it didn't matter. None of it ever did. You could never... in a million years fight that. It might've been best to accept your fate now.

[ddejavvu]

Hiii, hope you’re doing well! I’ve been obsessed with rewatching The Nanny and there’s this episode where Fran (the mc) reveals she has a tattoo but not the place, which leads to Maxwell (her love interest who she has an absurd amount of tension with) wondering where it is. Fran teases him constantly, and Maxwell checks her out endlessly and spends his time thinking about the tattoo and how hot it is that she has one. Could you write smth like this for poly!marauders? Maybe when theyre friends or at the start of their relationship. Honestly you could pull so many ideas from this series for fanfic. Thank youu so much!

"It's gotta be a tramp stamp." Sirius decides, "There's no other place on her body she'd be trying to hide from us."

"She could show us her back," James scoffs, "I bet it's, like, on her thigh or something. Y'know, right by the- well, she'd have to take off her pants. That's why she won't tell us."

"Maybe it's between her tits." Sirius snickers, "Or right on her left asscheek."

"Why the left and not the right?" Peter asks, "Maybe it goes across both."

"Right. It's James on one side and Potter on the other." James nods, blinding grin in full force, "She just can't admit that to me or she'd be embarrassed."

"Nice try." Remus had refrained from joining the conversation until now, but he leans in to murmur, "Marlene says she's seen it before."

"Where is it?" Sirius's eyes blow wide, surely jealous of the Gryffindor girl, "And what is it?"

"She wouldn't say." Remus admits, "But that means we're probably right. It's somewhere she can't show us."

"It's confirming our hypothesis." James nods, mouth set in a thoughtful expression, "We're using the scientific method."

"You're a genius," Remus snorts, "Anyways, I'll keep asking around."

"I'll ask Lily," James hums, faux-casually, "I think this time she'll-"

"She'll never tell you. I'll ask Lily." Sirius decides, "And you stick to Alex."

James's nose scrunches in displeasure at the thought of having to interrogate your unsavory ex, but their curiosity is eating them alive. They make to get up and fan out to search for more clues, but you come and plop down on the bench beside Peter, your hand already reaching for one of the breakfast platters.

"Morning boys." You hum, and Remus's eyes catch on black ink dotted over the base of your ring finger, "How was practice, James?"

"What's on your finger?" Remus blurts before James can begin rambling, and he realizes that the ring you typically wear is absent.

"Oh." You glance at your hand, shoulders stiffening slightly as you realize your secret is out, "I forgot my ring."

"That's your tattoo?" Sirius exclaims, incredulous and feeling just a little cheated, "Two letters? On your finger? What's scandalous about that?"

"I never said it was scandalous! I just said it was embarrassing." You defend yourself, "And it is."

"What is it?" James asks, and perhaps he's the only one that could have gotten it out of you, with the gentleness permanently present in his voice.

You groan, "It's the initials of a boy I like, okay?"

Sirius's head jerks back, surprised, "Were you together?" Then his eyes narrow further, "Are you together?"

"No! No, we're not together, he's-" You stammer, stuffing a bite of egg into your mouth to delay the inevitable, "He's not even real."

Silence and confused looks greet you, and you sigh, voice dejected, "He's a character from a book. Okay? And I was a little drunk and I thought it'd be a good idea for a stick-and-poke, but it was not as temporary as I thought it'd be."

"He's pretend." Sirius realizes, glee filling out his expression and making him beam, "You've got a fake man's initials on your ring finger!"

"Here comes the bride," James snickers, "Marrying a bloody book."

"Easy boys, let's not tease her." Remus seemingly takes pity on you, nudging his foot against yours beneath the table, "She's gonna be pretty beat up when he doesn't show for the wedding - we shouldn't make things worse."

[dexxtrosee]

Neverending battle

Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x reader

TW: mentions of canon character death, mass casualty event, grief, PTSD, lockdowns

Robby's sitting outside on the steps when you get home.

You reel back slightly, unsure. He has his head between his hands, taking deep breaths with his eyes closed. He's not dirty, still wearing the same cargo pants and black scrub top he left with in the morning. The face full of grief isn’t new either.

There's added weight to his shoulders though, you can see it. It’s almost like he’s doing an effort to stay upright against a crushing weight pushing him downwards, unsure of if he even wants to anymore.

You try your best to get closer without making a sound, slow steps and controlled breathing. His hands clench slightly.

"Jake's girlfriend died on me today."

You freeze.

"Remember I told you I'd give him the tickets so he could go with the girl he told us about? Her name was Leah," his voice breaks when he says her name, "I got to see her alive and happy through a call, and a few hours later I was covered in her blood and she was dead right in the middle of the ER."

You had seen the news, had called him a hundred times before it got through and Dana had answered. He talked to you five, ten seconds maybe, just to tell you to call Jake, to tell you he loved you, that he'd get home late. A watery chuckle was what he got back, and a 'be safe'. They had both sounded wrecked in that controlled way you knew so well, Robby had mastered it ages ago.

Which is why you don’t really know what to do with what’s pouring out of him right now. He hasn't moved, hasn't looked up at you, talking to the floor with his backpack by his side. He never tells you anything, never talks about what eats him alive and wakes you up when he starts crying at midnight.

He can talk about the funny, quirky cases, not with any other details but the fun ones. The girl who broke his arm trying to see how far she could jump, the boy who had a condom stuck inside, the teacher who had an accident in class and had been sneezing glitter for two days.

A month ago he got home laughing his ass off because a bunch of teenagers had gotten to the Pitt in a blind panic from their tongues being blue without "apparent reason", fearing the worst.

They just got high off his asses with a blue brownie and didn't remember, he kept saying, tears streaming down his face from laughing too much. It had made you so happy to see him like that, so carefree and finding something nice at work for once.

The man sat in front of you is a whole different person.

Your mind unhelpully supplies that Leah must have been around those teenagers' age.

"I broke inside the ped's room after Jake told me it was my fault, a-and it is, right? It is. Over a hundred people saved and I let my- I let Jake's girlfriend die."

Irrational anger flames inside your chest.

He's just a boy, you know.

He didn’t see Robby five years ago, though. Didn't spend months having to see him through the car window only, with dark circles around his eyes and thinner than ever. He has no clue about the first time he came back home and woke you up with his retching inside the bathroom, or the way he got paranoic for days and cleaned every single surface again and again. The blind panic that would show up on his face when you so much as sneezed, how he bought packs of facemasks that haven’t run out to this day.

But he’s just a boy, you know. And you know that you would hate anyone too if they were somehow even remotely capable of saving Robby and he died anyway, no matter how crazy it would be. Grief isn’t rational.

"I don't think we're gonna be seeing Jake anytime soon, babe. Sorry."

And he says it just like that, like that boy hasn’t been the shine in his eyes for years.

You sit down next to him, pulling one of his hands away from his head and clutching it between yours. He lets you, but doesn’t move otherwise.

"I think just us two will be fine for a while."

Not like you have any option, but still, he chuckles. "You think?"

Shrugging, you bury yourself into his side, ignoring how tight his entire body feels. You wonder if, this time, it was Jack the one who had to go up and talk. It makes you pull him closer.

"You sayin' I'm not fun enough for you now? Want me to go around pulling odd shit again, like when we first met?"

Finally, he turns slowly and kisses the top of your head. His body trembles slightly, adrenaline rush wearing off. You don’t dare mention it.

"As if I'd need anything else."

You smile.

You'll pressure him into going to therapy tomorrow, again. You're not sure if you should be relieved or worried sick at the fact that your chances at winning seem better this time around, not like the hundred times before.

"Whatever you need, Robinavitch."

You stay outside until his shaking calms down, and let him cry himself to sleep with his head on your chest.

In the morning, he finally agrees.