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#He’d be 59 this year
queersatanic · 4 months
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Happy birthday, Duane.
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sophiethewitch1 · 3 months
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What We Want - Chpt. 2 - First (Second) Introductions
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
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SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
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Tim Drake was an obsessive creature by nature. Ever since he was little, he’d always been easily swallowed by his obsessions. His wants and desires, the little things that fascinated him. And, more than that, he never fought it. He gave himself into it, wholly. It was how he’d gotten this far in life.
He’d taught himself how to code, how to hack. He discovered Batman and Nightwing’s true identities. He’d learnt how to fight, how to keep the city safe, how to fling oneself off a building without fainting. He’s taped the family back together again and again after every splinter. He was one of only two Robins left, and that would soon be the only once Bruce retired and Damian graduated.
And this was all done through obsession. And it was obsession. He was self-aware enough to know that. While the rest of the family often indulged in delusions, he never had the time for them. He’d spent countless nights pushing his lagging body along with caffeine and sheer willpower. He’d often forget to sleep or eat even on the calmer days. All that was to say, Tim Drake was obsessive.
But, his obsessions never lasted. Sure, he’d keep the skills and the relationships he’d make, but when the dust settled, he’d find himself feeling empty. Tim Drake was obsessive yes, but his true obsession was the conquest. The rush he’d get when he finally claimed a new skill, a new person, a new piece of knowledge or wisdom.
And then, too quickly, far too quickly, the rush would disappear. The tingle in his spine would leave, the energy would disappear, and that feverish nature of his would flatten. Cool down. The others in the family knew it as one of his ‘moods’, but Tim thought it was probably more than that. Still, he was definitely in one of them right now.
It didn’t matter. None of it really mattered. The point was, right now, he was quite simply depressed. Bummed out, if you would. He’d finished a mission from Bruce, one that had taken him months of desperate, undying effort, and it was now done. And he didn’t have anything to do.
It sucked.
Boredom was a sinister demon. While Tim was by far the most emotionally stable of the family, he was still, well- not. Not by a long shot, honestly. The League’s mandatory therapy sessions had confirmed that. He just needed something to entertain himself, and quick. Usually, on a day like this, he’d be at home working on any random degree.
Unfortunately, he had responsibilities. He could not alleviate his boredom, because he was in the most boring place on earth.
A party. Not a party by any normal person’s standards, but one of his adoptive father’s galas. Even more horrifying, Bruce Wayne was in attendance. He was doing his billionaire playboy persona, and Tim couldn’t stomach it. It was no shock no one else had shown up. Even Dick was busy in Bludhaven, and he sometimes enjoyed these. Sometimes.
And once again, as every year, the birthday girl was nowhere to be seen.
Tim’s eyes rove over the very boring gala. Your gala, for your birthday. You weren’t here, because you never were. He couldn’t blame you. These balls sucked, even the better ones. This one was miserable, and the atmosphere was sombre. While it was your birthday, it was more than that, a day of death.
Your family had died, Bruce’s new wife had died, and all the siblings he never really got the opportunity to meet, gone in a brilliant flash.
And Jason. Jason, who now walked the earth again, flesh and blood. Jason, who tore himself through a wooden coffin and grave dirt. Jason, who even Dick couldn’t seem to bring back into the family. Jason, alive and well and probably spending the night at Roy’s house. It was still the anniversary of his death, and while Jason did his best to put on a front, anyone with half a brain could tell he found today… upsetting.
But, he was alive. That was more than Tim could say for your family.
None of these people knew that. They saw one of the great Wayne’s dead, and they mourned. They saw the new wife and step-children of Bruce Wayne dead, and they lamented. Tim was sure most of it was faked, at least in this gala. The rest of the city truly grieved the Wayne family's tragedy. Especially Jason, one of the princes of the city. But here? No, they just wanted to rub shoulders with Bruce.
The man you very clearly insisted had never been your father, and never would be, was… probably a little sad. Tim was probably a little sadistically pleased about that. He was bored, alright? Anyway, Bruce did not know how to deal with you, and you with him. Both of you were stubborn people, unable to communicate or reach a place of cooperation. You never showed up to the galas or the manor, you did everything in your power to never have to interact with anyone from the family. The only reason you even still lived in Gotham was to be close to your dead family. And above all, you made sure that everyone knew how much you hated Bruce. That the sight of his aging face made you nauseous. Everyone else found that hilarious, of course.
And Bruce, because he was stubborn, kept trying to reach you, despite your angry protests. Even if he had absolutely zero legal ties to you, he still kept trying. And so, another birthday party passes without its leading star. The memorial tomorrow would be missing you too. Christmas, easter, hanukkah, new years, Rosh Hashanah, you refused to show up to any of them.
Still, he had to agree with Bruce. They couldn’t just leave you. Not with the way you were.
You’d once quietly admitted to him that you hoped you’d one day go to sleep and not wake up. That you’d rot away in your room, disappear from the world entirely. That was one of the last few times he talked to you face-to-face. And then a few months after that, you’d blocked him on all social media.
He’d read hundreds of books on therapy, and he knew what suicidal idealisation looked like. Luckily for his sanity, he was not your therapist, nor was he your keeper.
That was poor old Dick’s job, and he was, hilariously, failing at it. Badly. Technically, you were the second massive failure Dick had taken on, and it was starting to show in his mental state. Old Dickie was spending more and more time in Bludhaven, preferring to patrol there instead of Gotham. Still, he insisted he could get through to you. Tim was doubtful. Dick had better luck with Jason, of all people.
Jason actually wanted to be a part of this family. You hated them all, viciously. And so, you’d obviously never show up at-
Wait. Wait, no. He definitely recognised that face. Why the hell were you here? Well, that was irritating. Tim prided himself on being prepared for any situation, for any unlikelihood. He was the son who would be taking over Wayne Enterprises, after all.
You being in the same room as Bruce Wayne was impossible. Completely impossible. At least willingly. You should be kicking and screaming, scratching like a hellcat at anyone who tried to make you stay. Instead, you’re standing in the middle of a crowd, chugging back champagne like your life depends on it. He could already imagine the chaos the media would be starting, to his misery. ‘Estranged ex-Wayne shows up at birthday gala and drinks like a fish’. Well, he had been complaining about being bored. Careful what you wish for, and all.
Shit. He was not prepared for this.
He was, despite it being your birthday, not at all expecting you to be here. He didn’t even have a present. Shit. He pulls out his phone and shoots off an order to his assistant, who would probably go to Dick’s for help.
He sees you over there, obviously uncomfortable, and realises he should probably rescue you. He tells himself he should, that he’s gonna get up and go do it.
Instead, he crosses his legs at the ankle, leans back in his chair, and watches. You won’t catch him off guard twice. He has his pride, after all.
You throw another glass of champagne back. Tim winces. Okay, maybe you might. This was all a bit of a shock. And the rest of the gala seemed just as surprised at your appearance as he was. They obviously didn’t know what to do about you, creating a wide ring of people who refused to step closer to you. And you seem oblivious to the social pariah you have suddenly become. Or maybe uncaring, as you’ve already claimed an entire buffet table and champagne tray for yourself.
Just… just drinking. You seem to only care about ingesting more alcohol and confectionaries. It’s your twenty-first, but uh… this definitely doesn’t look like the first time you’ve been drinking. Not that he cared if this was your first time drinking. He’d done his fair share of illegal activities. Sure, they were mostly superhero stuff, but still illegal. Frankly, it’s kind of impressive. You might even be able to drink Jason or Alfred under the table.
…Good for you, he guesses. A talent’s a talent.
He realises, after a few minutes, that you have absolutely zero plans of socialising. You’d showed up here of your own free will, and then just scared off anyone who’d talk to you. Not that there’d be many who’d be interested in talking to the swaying woman who looked like a threat to herself and everyone around her. No, you were still just drinking. You’d gotten halfway down the buffet table, trying every single cake and a few of the savoury items as well.
You kept circling back to have more champagne and Victorian sponge, and then you’d go back to wherever you were in the buffet and try something from there. Your choices seemed sporadic, and more than once you spat something back out into a napkin. You look at some of the dishes like you think they might be poisonous, taking wide circles around them.
He rests his elbows on the table, leaning forward to press his face to his intertwined fingers. He’s definitely past the point where he should go help you. You’re making a mess, both physically and socially, and yet, he still just sits there. He can’t help himself, it’s interesting.
“Tim.”
Uh oh, your knight in shining armor is here. Or well, dark. Bruce had never been known for pastels. Tim turns his head to the giant man blocking out the light, giving his father and leader a smile.
“Hey Dad,” he greets, in an open attempt at manipulation.
Bruce shakes his head, not caving begrudgingly like he usually did. Shit, that usually worked. Guess he must be actually mad. He glances from Tim to the object of Tim’s apt fascination. You. He turns back, looking down at Tim with his ‘I’m trying to be a good dad’ look. It’s not very convincing.
“How long has she been doing this?” Bruce asks, straight to the point as always.
“Twenty-seven minutes. You’re ruining my process,” Tim replies, telling B to screw off in the kindest way possible. He doesn’t take the hint, because he’s a bit of an ass. Even Batman fanboy Tim could recognise that.
“You can’t just count when someone is getting drunk in front of the public. You need to actually do something.” Bruce shakes his head, hand lifting to massage his brow. It was just that easy to give the old man a migraine. Poor baby probably needed some Ibruprofen. Tim had some in his pocket, but he wasn’t going to offer.
“I was going to eventually. And aren’t you curious? She refuses to show her face for months, and then pops out of the blue to… what? Steal from your liquor cabinet? She knows she doesn’t have to come to get whatever she wants,” Tim ignores B’s nagging, turning his gaze back to you. You’re having a love affair with that cake, honestly. Oh, you’re going for another shot… You do realise the stuff you’re chugging goes for millions, right?
You probably don’t care. You never had about money.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s here, and we should be taking care of her. This is obviously her reaching out for help, and she obviously needs it,” B insists, splaying his worn and scarred hands over the table. Tim has the same hands, everyone in the family does. Vigilante work left scars and callouses.
“Then why hasn’t she come over here, yet? My theory is she’s just trying to smear your good image. Which doesn’t need smearing in the first place, but who understands the minds of young, drunk and miserable women?” Certainly not Tim, as he had proven in his relationship with Stephanie.
“Tim, enough with the sass. Go and help her.”
“She’s not your responsibility anymore, B.”
“Her mother would disagree. Now go,” Bruce orders, his words final. Because they always are, in the end.
Tim groans, letting his head fall back. He glares at the ceiling and all the sparkling diamonds strewn about, and then he pulls himself to his feet. Cracks his shoulders, and parts the Red Sea with a glance. The crowd in the gala splits so the young heir can easily find his way through, and he gives everyone he passes a kind smile.
He strides up to your side, calmly waiting for you to notice him. You’re still imbibing, completely oblivious to his presence. It’s funny. And fascinating. Usually, you were so paranoid that he wondered how you weren’t always a single breath away from a panic attack. Like a feral animal, ready at a moment’s notice to fight or flight.
He sees that you’re dealing with those social anxieties in a way befitting the Wayne name. Which is to say, absolutely shit. His head tilts eyes flickering over you. You don’t look too good, which is no real surprise. Even with your people’s perfect styling, they can’t cover up the shaking and sweating in your form. It might just be anxiety, but knowing you, it’s probably not. He wonders if you even notice how sick you are.
You don’t look like you notice much of anything. Maybe the cake, but that seemed to be pushing it.
“Oh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,” Tim starts but is unable to continue when you spin on your heel and drop your flute of champagne. It crashes to the ground, and he finds his socks becoming uncomfortably wet.
The two of you look up from the mess and meet gazes. Your mouth is open in horror, eyes comically wide. Tim has to bite the inside of his lip so as not to immediately burst into laughter.
“I’m so sorry,” you say, you do a weird crouch-pop-up movement, and then your eyes swivel around frantically, “I’m- am I supposed to clean this up? I can totally clean this up.”
You look just about ready to kneel into a pile of thin glass shards, so Tim stops you. Because God knows Bruce would hang him from the rafters if he didn’t.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. Somebody else will handle this. It’s your birthday after all, right?” he says, giving you a charming smile. It’s sort of a shock when you don’t scoff at him, and instead just stand there with a deer-in-headlights sort of look.
“Hey, are you alright?” Tim asks when you don’t say anything else.
You startle, and then blink at him rapidly. Distracted and inebriated. Lovely. He doesn’t think you know what you’re doing here either, which was a bad sign for your mental health. Have you been refusing to go to your therapist again?
It wasn’t like he went either, so he couldn’t judge.
“I’m good,” you say, your words only slightly slurred. You blink again, your head cants towards the floor, and then you glance back up at him. You look like he’s caught you committing a crime. “Do you- uh, want some of the cake? Sorry for stealing it all, it’s really good.”
You were acting… really strange. Tim found himself with the undeniable urge to follow along with your strangeness.
“You know what? Yes, yes I would,” he says, taking one of the little plates of strawberry cake and a delicate three-tonged fork. He scoops up some of the cake, the cream and jam, and eats. Chewing he keeps staring at you, as you fidget awkwardly. It’s good, but all the food here’s good.
“Did you like it?” you try to smile at him, but it looks more like a grimace.
“I did. Javier did really well with these desserts,” Tim says, before waving over one of the staff to clean up the mess the two of you are ignoring. You look surprised when he offers an arm to guide you away, and he wonders if you’ll accept it. He can’t imagine a world where you would, but today seems to be full of surprises. In the end, you do, but it takes you a good five seconds of awkward staring before you take it.
He takes you over to one of the tables, careful to make sure you don’t slip and fall face-first into the spreading champagne puddle.
“Oh. Is he the chef?”
“He’s the pâtissier.”
You give him a blank stare. Right, you probably don't speak French.
“The pastry chef,” Tim clarifies, as he helps you find your chair. You slump down with zero grace, and for a second Tim thinks you’ll fall right off. You manage not to with a desperate grasp at the table. Good for you.
“Oh, cool. That’s super cool. I think I love this Javier guy, honestly.”
Tim snorts, taking his own seat, “He has that effect on people.”
You’re not looking at him, instead grimacing at the mess you made that two of the staff are cleaning up. Tim’s sort of surprised. It wasn’t that you had been particularly mean to the employees before, but you rarely acknowledged them. You had barely acknowledged anyone, completely unaware of your effect on the greater world. You didn’t care. To be fair, it didn’t seem like you cared about anything but your family’s gravestones and memorials.
Still, there was definitely something different about you, today. And he couldn’t blame it all on the alcohol. Today, you looked a little green about the whole accident. Like you actually gave a shit. Maybe you’d had a change of heart. He hoped you had, for Dick’s sake. You looked more alive, even if it was a confused, embarrassed, uncomfortable sort of alive. It was still an improvement. Usually, your expression was dead, a blank stare. It reminded him of Jason’s as he’d been lowered into the ground.
The two of you wouldn’t like that comparison. And it’s hypocritical too, Tim knows he sometimes resembles a zombie after one of his little sessions.
He can’t help himself. He’s curious, so damn curious. What had prompted this miraculous shift? And plus, you could still be planning something, even if it was seeming more and more like you’d stumbled in here drunk and confused, not able to remember you hated them all. Maybe you had a concussion or something. A head wound sounded like a good explanation for all this.
“Why’d you show up here today?” he finally asks, caving quickly to his need to understand.
You give him a weird look like he’s the one being strange.
“It’s my birthday.”
Tim tilts his head. “That it is.”
“Was that- that the wrong answer?”
“I don’t know, was it?” Tim knows he should stop playing with you. You’re making it far too easy, though. And he's bored, damn it.
“I don’t know either. That’s… that’s why I’m asking you.”
Before he can react to the strangeness of that comment some (awfully rudely, might he add) intrude on your conversation. One of the board members of W.E., someone he had to pay the proper respect to. When his hand slaps down on Tim’s shoulder, he has to suppress a withering sigh. There were less fun parts to his job, and this was one of them
“Drake! It’s so good to see you,” the old man greets, and it takes even Tim a second to remember his name.
“Lancaster! You as well,” Tim replies, noticing your barely there flinch.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you tonight. My project’s funds are running a little low, and everyone knows you’re the one to go to for an easier time. Bruce is a great leader but…” the man chuckles, and Tim grins at him. It’s fake, of course. When in Rome, they say.
“A bit strict, yes. I have struggled with his attitude before, too.” Understatement of the century.
Tim glances at your quiet form, eyes set on the tablecloth in front of you. Even still it’s obvious you’re listening to their conversation, head cocked just slightly to the right. The board member doesn’t even seem to notice you. Tim’s curious if he recognises you.
You’d been out of the public eye for so long he wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. That’s the way you’d wanted it to be, after all.
“But let’s talk about this later, I’m entertaining a very tipsy birthday girl at the moment,” Tim says, hoping you don’t mind him using you as an excuse.
“Oh wow!” Lancaster cries, at your mere presence. Subtlety is not this man’s strength, “I didn’t see you there. Wow, jeez. Didn’t think you’d be here today. What made you change your mind?”
You give him a long, assessing look. Whatever you find makes you pull an expression like you sucked on a sour lemon.
“My assistant forced me to,” you answer honestly. Seems you’ve realised that ‘it’s your birthday’ isn’t an adequate reason. Not that you’ve never failed to reject any and all pressure to attend these events before. Like Tim had said, kicking and screaming.
“Ha! I know the feeling. Well, I’ll leave you two kids to it. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” the old man chortles, gives you a wink, and leaves. Your gaze follows him into the crowd, and stays there, even when he disappears behind it.
It’s quiet for a moment. Tim waits for you to speak first.
“Who was that man?” you finally ask.
“Charles Lancaster, one of the newest board members of Wayne Enterprises,” Tim says, surprised you’re curious. You’d never been interested in W.E. or anything involving the family. Surprised, surprised, surprised. He should just accept any odd behaviour from you at this point, start expecting it.
You slump in your chair, pressing your forehead against the table. Then, you let out a long, unhappy, groan. Tim gets it, he really does. He does not get what you do next.
Your hands slap against your cheeks, and Tim jerks in his seat. Okay, maybe Bruce was right, you probably do need help. He couldn’t imagine the big guy sending you to Arkham, though. It was obvious you were only a threat to yourself. You take a deep breath, completely ignore his confused stare and get to your feet.
And you immediately fall sideways.
Tim’s arm shoots out, grabbing yours before you crash into the shining marble floors. You look down at him, mirroring his shocked expression. You look down further down, and Tim follows your gaze.
Your stilettoed heel looks the same as it always does. Still, you stare at it like it’s a shark biting at your toes. Tim thinks this is one of the first real emotions you’ve shown in months, and it’s desperate fear of your shoes.
“I told her I can’t wear heels,” you say, more to yourself than him.
“What? Yes, you can. You wear heels to all these events,” he replies anyway.
“What- Well, I meant… heels this tall. They’re really tall.”
He just blinks at you, at the inanity of your statement. They were really tall, but Tim had seen you wear taller. Why were you lying about something like this? Had you drunk too much and were too embarrassed to mention it? Or maybe you’d hurt yourself?
He looks down at your ankle again. No, the flesh seems unharmed. And you hadn’t been walking with a limp earlier, you were just stumbling around now. Must really just be too much champagne. You’d already dropped a glass earlier and had been obviously embarrassed by it. Even if Jeanine had swept in just like she was supposed to, fixing the situation. You’d apologised profusely.
He’d never heard you apologise before. It’s… well, it’s strange. That’s the only way he can describe this encounter.
“You can let go of me now. Please?”
Tim lets you go, and you rub your arm. Shit, he grabbed you too hard. He knew you were on the delicate side, wasting away both mentally and physically. You didn’t take care of yourself and rarely even left your apartment. Even now you looked oddly sickly.
“I’m going to uh- I have to go pee,” you say, and immediately wince at your words.
Tim, without thinking, replies, “Go piss girl.”
You make a shocked choke of laughter, nod at him, and then run off as fast as you can while grasping every piece of furniture in your reach. You look genuinely ridiculous. Well, it’s not the first time a Wayne gala has turned into a clown show. Compared to Dick’s younger years, this was completely unnoticeable.
Bruce still loved to complain about the chandelier he’d broken in an impromptu trapeze show. It’d been diamond, and over a hundred years old. The ones above him now were just as expensive, but not vintage. Jason thought it was hilariously funny, and was always trying to get Dick to do it again. Luckily, Dick had matured, if only a little bit.
Speaking of which, this is a perfect opportunity to mess with Dick. He pulls out his phone and the secure channel they use to communicate. Dick was in Bludhaven right now, probably on patrol. Doing something fun. Sure, tonight had gotten more interesting, but you’d just run off and with you his only entertainment. Tim was bitterly envious of Dick’s fun, and because of that, he had to make Dick just a little more miserable. Just to make things even, of course.
‘Smartest_Robin’: guess who just showed up to her own birthday party?
‘Underwear_guy’: you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. why?
‘Smartest_Robin’: hell if I know. she’s drunk as hell lmao
‘Underwear_guy’: please don’t let her do anything stupid.
‘Smartest_Robin’: yeah, yeah. i’m the idiot who has to deal with the fallout anyway
‘Underwear_guy’: how’s it feel being the ‘favourite son’?
Tim snorts. The media often called him that, purely because it was well known he was the one inheriting W.E. It was hot gossip that it was Tim and not Damian, the proudly stated ‘blood son’. They didn’t know Damian was inheriting an even greater responsibility. And it wasn’t like he particularly wanted it, he just knew he was best for the job and it helped the time pass in between missions. It was fun sometimes, too. He enjoyed giving Luthor Corp a good thrashing every now and then.
‘Smartest_Robin’: same as always. im bored, anything interesting going on over there?
‘Underwear_guy’: bludhaven’s my city, dickhead. go do taxes or something
Tim sighs, and puts the phone back down. He had to try, at least. When it becomes obvious you are absolutely not returning from the bathrooms anytime soon, he gets up, adjusts his cuffs, and walks back off into the fray.
He greets and shakes hands, he takes photos and makes deals. It’s all a blur, really. He does it with half his attention, the other focused entirely on you. Amidst all this pomp and splendour an intriguing new mystery has been born. A puzzle to hold his attention, just for long enough till he gets to the next one. And your sudden shift in personality is more than enough. And if he focused on that, he could get through all this politics.
He’s talking up a chairman of a rival company when the lights go out. When the windows shatter inwards, his heart starts to race. And when familiar masked thugs break in through the wide open doors, guns up and ready, he’s already prepared for the fight. People start screaming, scrambling, and even more gunmen follow through the side exits. While guards raise their own firearms, everybody knows they’re completely outnumbered.
The Joker’s here, and he’s brought his army. Well, shit, all this excitement, and Tim left his suit upstairs. Guess he’ll have to improvise.
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MASTERLIST - NEXT
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scuderiahoney · 4 months
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I WANT YOUR MIDNIGHTS BLURB #7
SLEEPING THROUGH MIDNIGHT // CHARLES LECLERC
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You didn’t mean to fall asleep, really. You had plans with friends, plans to ring in the new year in style. But the two of you had flown home that day, gotten into the apartment, and then Charles had laid down on the couch. He’d looked so cozy, you couldn’t help but crawl in next to him. Just a few minutes, you’d promised each other as you rested your head on his shoulder. Just ten minutes.
You wake up at 12:53 am. The apartment is dark around you. Someone is yelling happily out on the street. You sit up, staring at the clock and rubbing your eyes. Charles is asleep beneath you, breaths coming in soft snores. The clock must be wrong. Right? There’s no way-
You pick up your phone from the coffee table. You’ve got 20 missed calls, nearly three times the missed text messages. The last one, sent at 11:59 by Joris, reads; YOU ARE GOING TO MISS IT.
You groan and shove at Charles’ shoulder. He jolts, reaching blindly for you. His hands find your hips, and as if on reflex, he tugs at you, trying to get you to lay back down.
“We missed it,” you tell him.
“Missed what?” He asks, sleepily.
“Midnight,” you say.
You flop back over onto his chest. He sighs in relief, wrapping his arms back around you and holding you close. His lips brush over your forehead.
“We missed it?” He asks, sounding utterly confused.
“Slept right through it. ‘S almost 1am.”
He laughs, and it rumbles under your ear. “Oh, I’m so sorry, mon amour.”
You’ve been looking forward to New Year’s since December 1st. It’s your first holiday season with Charles as a couple. All of the firsts had been important to you- first family Christmas parties, first Christmas together, first New Years kiss. Oddly enough, you don’t feel that heartbroken over it.
You lay your hand on his chest and rest your chin on it. “S’okay. I’ll live.”
He sighs, rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Always next year, yes?”
Your chest fills with warmth at that. He’s already thinking about next year. He already wants you there next year. In your half asleep, jet lagged state, you’re worried you might cry over it.
“Always next year,” you agree.
He presses a warm, sleepy kiss to your lips. He's already falling back asleep, you can tell. You press your face back into his chest. You can hear the beginnings of his soft snores. You close your eyes, drift off to the sound of his heartbeat, and make a belated wish. You want more midnights with him. Even if you sleep through them.
All the New Years to come, please.
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taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me
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dilatorywriting · 7 months
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59 Leona, it'd take a lot for him to admit but he would say it eventually. (Also I know you'd recognize me but I'm shy, so anon it is)
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Gender Neutral Reader x Leona Kingscholar Word Count: 1.5k
Prompt 59: "People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you, I think fate was being harsh on you."
[EVENT MASTERLIST]
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You are nice, and you are stupid. And those things aren’t mutually exclusive.
Sometimes you’re nice because you’re stupid, and sometimes you do stupid things because you’re too nice for your own stupid, stupid good. And it drives Leona half insane.
Which it shouldn’t, because nice, stupid people like you are just as annoying as his brother. Goody-two-shoes with buttoned vests and sparkly, star-shaped stickers on their term papers.
“Did you remember your homework?”
Leona flicked his tail in your face and you scrunched your nose over your notebook.
“Well?”
“Of course I remembered,” he scoffed, lazing back against the roots of one of his favorite trees. This spot used to be so much quieter, so much more peaceful, before you decided to trail after him like a duck quacking for its mother.
“Did you do the homework?” you clarified, and Leona rolled his eyes.
You sighed and starting ruffling around in your bookbag. “I brought a spare copy of the worksheet. You’re going to drive Ruggie insane, y’know. If he winds up stuck with you for another year because you failed for not turning in assignments.”
“Yeah. Sure. Another three-hundred-and-sixty-five days to rifle through my wallet. Worst news of his life.”
You huffed good naturedly and handed him the sheet of crisp, white copy paper and a pen. “Get to work, Kingscholar.”
“Oh?” he drawled, closing his eyes and settling back, loose limbed and all long, lean leisure, against the tree trunk. Clearly ready for an afternoon snooze. “Make me.”
You sighed again and reached over to flick your own well-used pen against his ear. It twitched under your fingers—soft, and tufted. The finest of the pale, tan fur brushing up against your fingertips. “Fine. Be that way. See if I bring you lunch tomorrow.”
“You will,” he scoffed.
“Yeah,” you sighed, sounding resigned and foolishly fond. “I probably will.”
See? Stupid. So easy to manipulate. So willing to let yourself be squashed under his clawed thumb. It was a wonder you’d managed to survive in this school at all. Nevertheless by clinging onto the coattails of someone like him. He’d never made anyone’s existence easier a day in his life, and he certainly wasn’t going to start now, just because you were too soft-hearted and slow to see a looming predator for what it was.
“Just give me that stupid fucking paper,” he snapped, sitting upright and swatting away your poking pen with a sneer. You laughed into your palms like a secret—bright, and merry, and dumb as a fucking rock.
“Whatever you say, Leona.”
.
.
You’d handled his Overblot with a strange sort of aplomb that at first Leona had attributed to perhaps a lingering, hidden confidence that he’d just never bothered to unearth. You were just some herbivore, and even the littlest rabbits could bite back when you put them in a corner. But then he’d come to the decision that that easy conviction was just another symptom of your rampant stupidity.
“I know you guys don’t want to hurt me, or any of us. Not really,” you shrugged around a wad of cotton—the blood dripping from your nose slowly drying up to a tacky, sticky dribble. Leona gaped at you outright.
That was your grand explanation. For why you’d been so eager to charge forward when he’d collapsed in a pool of inky nightmares and self-loathing. And the very same reason apparently thatyou’d felt so comfortable rushing forward to treat Azul Ashengrotto’s blubbering, hysterical, breakdown with the same urgency.
“That octo-prick would have ripped you in half,” he sneered, fingers twitching a nervous rhythm against his palms as he watched the nurse wrap another layer or bandages around your head.
You shrugged. “Not on purpose.”
You were going to give him an aneurism.
“You’re going to get yourself killed,” he snarled, ignoring the horrible, twisty thing curling like bile through his chest. “And I’m not going to bother paying for some self-sacrificing idiot’s funeral.”
Another shrug.
“That’s alright,” you hummed, a soft sort of crooked smile on your mouth. “Would’ve been a waste of money anyways.”
Leona didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Surely because your stupidity had reached such a fever pitch that it was no doubt contagious, and he needed to protect his far superior and more valuable brain. Not because the image of you smiling and nodding along to his declarations that he wouldn’t put the effort into mourning your death had soured something so deep in his gut that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to scrape it out.
.
.
When he received a letter from home asking him to return for some shitty coronation nonsense for his equally shitty brother, Leona had debated just skipping it outright. Who was going to stop him? You?
Well. Yes, apparently.
“It sounds important,” you hummed, peering over his shoulder at the neat, formal scrawl of the summons. “You should go.”
He snorted. “I don’t want to be there, they don’t want me to be there. What’s the point.”
You frowned, brow crinkling in the middle.
“Well, that’s not true,” you said, perplexed. “They wouldn’t write to you if that was the case.”
Leona snorted, eyes darting away to glare bitterly off into the corner. “Not like they have a choice.”
“Well then you don’t have a choice either,” you argued, firm. “I’ll go with you. See? It says you can have a plus one. You can camp out in your fancy, princey, bedroom. And I can siphon you snacks from the fancy, princey hors d'oeuvres tables. That way we both win. You get to be a reclusive asshole and rub the fact that that you still went in everyone’s faces, and I can get access to some tasty, royal food that I’ll probably never be able to afford again for the rest of my life.”
“Should’ve known you’d be like Ruggie—only using me for the free food,” he sighed, melodramatic and obviously put on.
“Well, also because I thought you could use the emotional support,” you added, a touch too soft and far too genuine. “But I didn’t think you wanted to hear that bit.”
“You’re right,” he scoffed, turning onto his side to hide the strange, miserable heat pricking at his skin. “Don’t ever say corny shit like that again.”
“Aye, aye, captain,” you grinned, flicking at his ear, and Leona added another mental tab to his never-ending list of reasons that you were really far too brainless to keep functioning at all.
.
.
You were nice, and you were stupid. And Seven, he wanted to be anywhere but here.
“My brother hasn’t ever brought someone to one of these events before,” Falena had said, to your face. Idiot to idiot communication.  
“I didn’t give him much of an option,” you’d chirped, perfectly pleasant. “I don’t think he wants me anywhere near here, to be fair. Or around him in general. But I’m like a cockroach. Can’t get rid of me.”
And Falena had laughed. Because he was terrible. And said, “I’m sure he must care about you very much, little cockroach.”
And then because you were more terrible, you laughed back and said very assuredly, “Oh, not at all.”
Which was—was—
“Do you really think that?” he snapped, once the two of you were alone. And you blinked back at him with wide, owlish eyes.
“Think what?”
Think at all,he wanted to sneer, but just glared silently and bitterly into the middle distance—fighting the nonsensical, irritated swishing of his tail.
But you just kept staring at him. Like he was the moron here. Which was unacceptable.
“Look,” he frowned, sharp and miserable. “I get it. People like me aren’t supposed to have someone like you. Whatever gods exist out there were playing a shitty fucking joke on you when they dropped you in my lap. But you’re stuck with me. So stop—” he bit out, fighting that awful, twisty thing in his gut that never seemed to fully go away. “Stop talking like I can’t stand you.”
“…oh,” you mumbled, whisper quiet—that wide, startled gaze flicking away in embarrassment. “Oh.”
“Oh,” he echoed, sharp, and you snorted a laugh that seemed to surprise even you.
“You’re stuck with me too then, y’know,” you said after a long moment. “Even when I make you grumpy.”
“You don’t make me grumpy. I am grumpy. You make me—” he cut off quick, eyes darting away petulantly and an absolutely unfair heat rising along his cheekbones.  
“Itchy,” you piped in, and he gaped at you in shock.
“What?”
“You know,” you shrugged, awkward, and reached up to wiggle your fingers. “Cockroach. Many legs. Squirming. Itchy.”
“Never say any of those words again.”
You laughed into your palm—inelegant and a touch too loud. Leona felt his lips quirk.
“Thank you,” you said after a moment, once your giggles were a bit more under control. And leaned forward quick as a whip to press a nervous peck against his cheek. “For being kind to me.”
Kind.
Leona reached up to press a hand against the too-warm skin with a terrible, unfamiliar sensation in his head not unlike the fuzzy, white drone of TV static. And a horrible thought managed to filter its way through the floating, buzzing sensation curling through the whole of him.
Oh, fuck. It is contagious.
.
.
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blueeofsl · 8 months
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Page 17. We see that Donnie is just laughing at the joke now. It might be because it’s right after Leo sobbing for a while and then he just pulls that joke out of nowhere, or the fact that Donnie is exhausted. Or maybe, Donnie just really missed his stupid jokes
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But it relaxes Donnie out of whatever caffeine or adrenaline high he’s been in for so long, and he passes out on Leo. Literally laughs himself to sleep.
However for Leo, this was probably really worrying. Because Donnie was active and talking to him and suddenly he’s passed out. (Also is it just me or does it look like Leo’s stump is sorta holding Donnie’s head up?)
~~~~~
In Page 18, Leo gently lays Donnie down on the bed he had woken up from. Staring at Donnie the whole way through with a sort of attentiveness to any sort of discomfort/pain.
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He’d probably noticed the eyebags under Donnies eyes too.
In the second panel, Leo’s worry shows through again and seems to need to take a breath before checking Donnie’s pulse in panel three.
The fact that Donnie lets this happen so willingly (even when passed out. I would guess that over the years in the apocalypse, the turtles have learned a way to protect themselves even in their sleep.) shows that he is fully out and probably wont wake up for a while.
~~~~~
In page 19, notice how there wasn’t just one panel being used to show Leo focusing on Donnie’s pulse, but two. We can tell by Leo’s facial expression that he’s still having doubts of seeing Donnie alive again.
Still doubting that things are real in the third panel as he goes to check his own pulse. His own pulse being much quicker than Donnies. This could be because of the fact that Donnie’s asleep while Leo is awake. Or it could be the fact that Leo is very alert now that he’s alone.
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In the last panel, Leo finally lets himself say what he’s thinking at the moment “what the fuck”. I don’t think ive ever read those words with so much emotion behind them because yes. Leo is just… so confused on how he got here. He has no clue that they’re in the present timeline, where Donnie can resurrect people. He has no idea if there are other people out there other than him and Donnie. He doesn’t even know that the sky is now free of krang and is blue instead of the apocalyptic red.
The last panel also shows us that Leo is also finally starting to take note of his surroundings, past just trying to reach for Donnie.
~~~~~
Some other theories/notes; I’m guessing that Leo is going to need a lot of guidance/reassurance of the fact that things are real and that he can relax. Like Casey, he probably wont be a fan of the big crowds in NYC and would rather stay hidden.
I’m also guessing that the family will have some sort of “talk” about what has happened overall. The war, the people they’ve lost, everything. Maybe Cass wont add this in, but I think Mikey will try to have everyone at least address the fact that not only are they survivors, but they are also veterans from a long, long war.
~~~~~~~~~~
Phew… that was a lot of writing! Loved checking through all 59 panels and finding the little details/ focusing on the emotion Cass was trying to portray there.
Would like to thank @somerandomdudelmao for the comics and also @tapakah0 and @ryanthel0ser for being wonderful motivators hehe
PART 1
PART 2
PART 3 (here)
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ushiwhacka · 1 year
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time skip! ushijima wakatoshi + fem! reader | mdni | 1,226 words | established relationship, oral (f! receiving), rushed but also slow sex, creampie, size kink, aftercare, alcohol consumption (both), happy new year <3
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23:27. wakatoshi has been getting progressively touchier with every sip of whiskey burning down his throat. his serious expression now long melted into a mess of pink-dusted cheeks and shy smiles. his large hand has found a new home curved around your waist and he pulls you closer still when a couple of his teammates approach you. it’s a statement. his touch feels possessive, like he’s claiming you. and you lean into it, head resting on his arm. 
maybe under different, more sober circumstances, you’d feel a pang of embarrassment at how the two men are gawking at you. their eyes curious, shifting between the two of you, amused grins as they ask what you’ve done to him. is he usually this adorable? toshi feels the blood rush to his head, the tips of his ears red, and he feels it on his tongue, an inappropriate confession that he would most definitely regret come next practice. but you laugh their comments away. “maybe i put a spell on him.” his fingers dig into your flesh. “he’ll turn back into a grump when the clock strikes midnight, don’t worry.”
23:59. olive eyes bore into yours, just the two of you in an invisible bubble at the packed rooftop bar. the countdown nothing but white noise as his thumbs run over the pretty lines of your face. he kisses you at the count of two, just shy of the turn of the year. it’s slow and deep and it burns your lips with a need for so much more. he’s reluctant as he pulls away, holds you close with his jacket draped over your shoulders as you watch the fireworks. they are nice but he’d much rather look at you, eyes all wide as you watch in awe.  
 00:15. his hand is on your thigh as you sit in the uber in complete silence. there’s a feeling of overflowing tension like just one single word would break whatever restraint is left between the two of you. teeth dig into your bottom lip, hand resting on his as you stare down the traffic lights, willing them to turn green.
it breaks when the door to your tiny elevator closes. there’s too much of him, and he’s too close and too warm and too impatient. and in a moment you can feel his touch everywhere. his lips on yours, demanding and relentless. his hand around your neck, but not squeezing, his thumb pushing your chin up towards him. you fall into the kiss, fingers clawing at the broad plane of his chest, whimpering around his tongue. 
you stumble through the hallway, not breaking apart even as he struggles to unlock the door. the farthest you make it is to the fluffy rug of your living room. he thinks you look angelic splayed out beneath him, lips swollen and shiny, your chest heaving with every laboured breath. he manages to take off his shirt - fingers fiddling with buttons that are way too small - before he’s kissing you again. it’s uncharacteristically rushed and erratic, his lips moving from your mouth to your chin down your neck and over your chest then back up again. muttering praises against your soft skin. “pr- pretty.” stuttered out over the hollow of your throat. the warmth of his breath making your hair prickle. “you are so pretty.”
and you’re just a mess under him, breathless and writhing and whimpering. reaching out to touch him and pull at his hair. and, god, he’s a mess as well. there’s a desperation to his touch, like every kiss might be the last, like you’re about to slip away from his hold. “i need- i need you.” his voice raspy, so deep it makes your belly coil with excitement. and yet it’s low and gentle. such a stark contrast to how his arms flex as he rips your panties off of you. delicate lace disintegrating under the force of his grip. 
your breath catches in your throat when you feel his lips on your pussy, leaving sloppy kisses all over it before he sucks on your clit. he’s usually so attentive, so thorough as he runs his tongue through the dripping folds of your cunt, holds you spread open as you cum into his mouth. but not tonight. his whole body aches with the need to bury himself in you.
and he’s stuttering as he does. “i’m sorry.” gasping as he feels you clamp around his length. “i couldn’t wait, i’m sorry.”
“it’s okay, baby.” your tone shushing as you cup his cheeks. “you feel so - ah - so-o good.”
“i love you.” he fucks you slow and deep, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix with every thrust. “i’ll take care of you.” his body completely covers yours, caged by his arms on the side of your head. and you can feel every part of him, the warmth radiating off his skin, the weight of him on top of you. the little drops of sweat that roll between the ridges of his stomach. his lips never leave yours, swallowing every one of your moans and feeding you his. foreheads pressed together. he’s so close, so so close. and you’re making it so hard for him to not give in to his orgasm. you’re just so perfect, and you make the prettiest noises, and he’s so in love with you. he squeezes his eyes shut, using every last bit of energy left in his body to last just a little longer. whining with how raw and sensitive his cock is. and the moment he feels your pussy twitching around him, he’s painting your walls white. his fingers clutching at the carpet below. 
his body spent and limp as he collapses on top of you. and you wish you could stay like this forever but you can barely breathe underneath the weight of him. “ushi,” you whine, “you’re crushing me.”
wakatoshi mutters an apology as he flips you over but still holds you close to his chest. his hand smoothing over your hair. “i love you.” and you know he’s not going to let go of you.
“i know.” the contentment almost palpable in your words. “i love you.”
and within seconds he’s lightly snoring. you giggle at the thought of how you must look right now, his pants half off, sticky with sweat and cum, his cock still inside you. but you don’t have the heart to wake him. 
04:43. your eyes flutter open as he lifts you into his arms. the next thing you feel is the softness of your bed, and his hands working diligently to take off your dress. you drift in and out of sleep as he disappears into the bathroom and comes back with a warm, wet towel. “i’m just cleaning you up.” his voice is as soft as his hands running over your thighs. and you fall in love with him all over again (for the third time tonight) as he picks out a pair of cotton panties and slips them up your legs. and a fourth time when he pulls your favourite shirt of his over your head. 
you fall asleep with your face pressed to his skin and the feeling of his heartbeat beneath your palm, and a lingering whisper of i love you on your lips.
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thank you for reading! interaction is very much appreciated! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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gayconstruct · 3 months
Text
Humans are Weird — Fever
We literally heat up to cook our bodies when we can't ward off things with our immune cells, and there's a VERY slim margin for what's healthy vs what's not. If you'd like to skip the context portion scroll down to the second set of emdashes
—————
For some quick context, I use some consistent concepts and variations of time words under the impression there's a unified, simplified time scale in an intergalactic universal community
Shifts are 10 hours with hour lunches
There's 3 parts to every species day — Work, Relax, and Sleep — all 10 hours
Diurnal aliens including most humans are working in the mornings, relaxing in the evenings, and sleeping at night
Crepuscular aliens are working in the evenings, relaxing at night, sleeping in the morning
And Nocturnal aliens are working at night, relaxing in the morning, and sleeping in the evening
The clock is from 01:00 — 30:00 (simple 30 hour days for an even number and more leisure time) and rolls over to 01:00 from 30:59 with 01:00 being the roll over from night to morning
Time Increments
Seconds = Instants
Minutes = Moments
Hours = Periods
Days = Cycles
Weeks = Phases
Months = Stages
and Years = Terms
—————
Temperature Rising
Diverse biomes and work sectors began to stir to life, as the many species stationed upon the Integrated Vessel Ro’Vanna responded to the coming shift change. The Universal Timepiece, standard across the known universe, finally struck 0100 Cycles, the nocturnal species like the Umborra and Nostro eager to spend their recreational hours peacefully, while Diurnal species like the Shal’Dorei and newly integrated Humans were waking to begin another productive morning. 
Qin, the most well known Troqir aboard and one of its select Charters, rushed to his station in the hub of the Astrometry Center, cranial crests flaring with an eagerness that to most of his crewmates would otherwise go unnoticed. Ready to start his shift as soon as his posterior hit the chair, the rather tall and muscular humanoid gracelessly plopped down, emitting quite the noise as he got started. Other species present had their full attention focused on their tasking at hand, not a single thought or care thrown to his quite hasty entrance to his station. Several crystalline scales in the crook of his neck iridesced at the thought of his companion joining him soon, his thoughts anywhere but the latest mapping data coming up on his Virtual HUD. Time passed quickly at first, the sturdy man pointing metallic fingers to different notifications that needed immediate attention, adjusting calculations to chart the next few thousand Cargo routes as he went. After roughly 14.5 moments, though, he turned to search for his oddly quiet coworker to notice that the Human had made no attempt to join him this morning, the thought causing a darker color to glisten across his crystal scaling.
He’s late.
Why is he late?
He specifically stated last night he’d “see me soon.”
He’s never this late.
For the first time in his life, Qin was completely out of focus. Several happy-go-lucky phases — human parlance, not his own — had enveloped him, exchanging his stark Troqir logicality for Human whimsy and curiosity. His work tempo was slower and uncoordinated, an unfamiliar feeling coalescing into the turbulent color shifts across his luminescent scales. Every instant that passed on the cargo vessel's timekeeper seemed to lurch at an uneven pace, a deepening pit forming at the base of his abdomen. For four and a half painstaking periods, Qin swallowed his personal thoughts to gain some form of traction on his workload, swallowing emotion as all of his people were taught and opting for diligent productivity, until - finally - the release of his allotted Nutrition Period arrived. There was no moment spared as his dense footfalls rushed towards his companions quarters, his focus unbroken as the ceiling dropped from 4 meters to a much tighter 2.4m. Qin, at just under 2.2 meters, absentmindedly ducked to overcompensate, having quickly become accustomed to this section and its many distinctions after quite a few visits. 
There at last, the tall, silvery man reached what was worth looking for, a door which read in standard human language,
Room 152
Aspen Wright
With the slightest shake in his hand, Qin formed his digits into a fist to knock. 
Knocking… he thought, quite the odd custom, but like many human practices, this was the most respectful of his companion’s personal space and time. For several instants, the silence in the Human Sector’s Hall allowed him no sweet mercy, the lone alien man uncertain what to do as his weight shifted back and forth between his feet, a metal clang ringing out with each motion. Thankfully, a digital projection finally slid across the width of the door, Entry Permitted, displayed in large English typeface.
Thank the Fathers and Mothers for universal translation.
With the invitation obvious and a rather low duck through the smaller door, Qin entered into the darkened room — the simulated window turned off, the curtains drawn, clothes strewn across the floor, and strange devices and pill capsules laid upon the table — not even the so-called “fairy lights” lit the quarters he had become so accustomed to. The Troqirian’s own voice came quieter than he expected, as he rasped out, “Aspen? Are you there?” A strange groan followed, then silence, then- a weary voice.
“Q-,” a cough, “Qin?”
“Y-yes… it is I, I am present,” a facepalm.
“Oh, this is a-” more coughing, “a surprise. Aren’t you on Lunch Break sweetie?”
For a moment, the light from Qin’s Luminescent Scales - ones at his nape, a few at his crests, even the ones on his exposed digits - shined brighter than before, a rainbow of colors flowing across their surface at the thought of being a “sweetie”, before taking a dim, solemn purple. “I- yes, but when you did not show up promptly 15 moments late after last night's recreation I- I began to worry. Lateness? Normal to an extent. Absence??? Abnormal, even for you… Did I… do something wrong? Did our meetings and leisure time make work uncomfortable for you?”
For his first time that entire cycle, Aspen bolted upright with a purpose, but immediately regretted it as a wave of dizziness caused the room to spin around him before he fell the wrong direction, right out of his bed into the floor.
The sight startled Qin, having no frame of reference where the human man was until now, “Fathers and Mothers! Aspen, are you injured!?”
With a weak chuckle and the groan of even more pain, he responded in turn, “I’m fine, I’m fine… I’m sorry to worry you, you never make me uncomfortable dear, I’m just a bit [under the weather] today.” Another small laugh came, and then he continued, “I was trying to tell you that, and I- I must’ve moved too fast… everything is- ugh everything is spinning. Could you help me back into bed?”
Frantic to assist, Qin’s larger form - clumsy in the smaller space, helped lie the smaller, lighter human in his nest, placing his head upon the pillow. Once situated, he covered the small man, as many human’s liked, and noticed his skin far hotter to the touch than normal, homeostatic balance oddly off. “Damn translator…” a joyous light crossing his scales as he used the human swear as he’d been taught, “for whatever reason the English to Troqirian dictionary hasn’t found a suitable translation for your imprecise speech… Could you please explain?”
“Ah, thank you for the lift, love.” Settling for an instant, eyes closed and his head on the pillow, Aspen pondered with a clouded, slow mind, trying to search for the words as his body ached and caught a chill. “... uh- an English idiom of common use in my native tongue… it’s like… to feel sick, to be unwell. I didn’t go to my work shift today because I’m too sick to go… I’m- I’m sorry I didn’t contact you to say something, this fever is really kicking my ass.”
Fever? What in the Cradles was a Fever? 
“Ah… Fever- yes. Hmm, and that is… The translator states you have an elevated temperature? You were hot to the touch, hot because you’re currently ill, or ‘under the weather’ as it were?” Pondering his line of thinking, Qin couldn’t help but attempt to puzzle it together, his evolved logic center placing presented data together to reach understanding. 
Why is his temperature so elevated? He… he’s too hot… His temperature felt at least 311.8°K through my temperature cells… Humans are on average 310.2°K and their species exhibits signs of death at temperatures of 315°K or more… Fathers and Mothers that’s far too close. That is far too close.
Startling Aspen’s tired eyes open, the large metallic man started in with question after question, “How are you okay? You were perfectly normal yesterday. You’re temperature is far too elevated! Are you dying? Do you need emergency services? I can call the Human Physician on board! I can, I can, I-”
“Stop. It is gonna be okay. This- uh this is a normal human response to various pathogens our immune system is unable to combat with its defense cells, so we get hotter and hotter to try to kill the invader before it can do too much damage. I’ve already spoken to the captain and the doctor and I was given some things to bolster my strength while I attempt to naturally ride out my fever. It’s gonna be okay Qin, I’m gonna be okay. The fever just has to kill the pathogen and it’ll break on its own.”
For several quiet moments Qin sat in disbelief at such a process. Actively breaking their delicate homeostasis for an illness? Their specialized cells unable to do it on their own??? He found himself running his digits through his smaller companions' hair as he pondered. He looked so weak, so small, so… precious. 
Breaking the deathly silence with a few coughs, Aspen shuddered from his fever chills, squinting to the light of Qin’s scales before smiling to himself, “I can see your scared glow through my eyelids, Qin, I promise I’m okay… though the comforting touch is nice.”
“Well your eyelids are thin layers containing Keratin and Collagen, it's a miracle your species is alive…”
A laugh, somewhat stronger this time, escaped Aspen’s lips as he smiled again, “And yours have thick metallic plates and the most beautiful glowing scales I’ve ever seen. What about it?”
A hot reddish-pink overtook the Troqir’s luminescent features as he realized what power the smaller man held over him. The power to care. The power to worry. The power to be emotionally honest, something found few and far between his own people. 
The power to be bold.
“Th-they’re beautiful, you… are beautiful, Aspen… I’m sorry I haven’t said it sooner. You always try to make advances on me, and I always try to deflect them with feigned ignorance.”
Slowly, the small human man scooted to leave some room next to himself in the bed, the blanket moving and leaving him even colder than he already was, “Please… could you stay with me a while longer… could you… could you cuddle me to keep me warm?”
The pink glow wouldn’t cease for some time, as the giant of a man laid down on the small bed and wrapped his warm silvery arms around his companion, a small humming noise coming from deep in his throat like a pur. Aspen snuggled close to stifle his chills, overjoyed to know his feelings were reciprocated. Feeling the radiant heat from his alien partner, he drifted into peaceful sleep for the first time that awful sick day.
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inkedobsidian · 2 months
Text
~ Loyalty ~
prompt: #59 “Are you hurt?” “No.” “Then why are there bruises all over your face”
requested by @handyulset
summary: Y/N & Honda go to protect Ji-an after Jin-man’s request and only one of them gets out
pairing: Y/N x Jeong Jin-man
warnings: violence, blood, someone dies
word count: 2,534
a/n: I skipped the morgue scene just bc it was already hella long with just setting up the story. Requests are open! Prompt list is there if you guys want extra ideas
Master-List - Prompts
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Y/N wasn’t actually sure how many years it had been since her and her brother had seen Jeong Jin-man but she wished she could’ve said it was under better circumstances. Y/N and Honda had heard stories about Bale along her life and even had the misfortune of working with him from time to time so they weren’t surprised when Jin-man spoke about everything that happened on their previous missions.
Y/N had hoped that Jin-mans visit meant he was here to finally settle with his family but then again that would be better circumstances. Now Y/N and Honda find themselves racing in Honda’s car to what was inevitable death most likely. Jin-man had called Honda panicked finding out Bale was back and with his family. He had pleaded with them to go protect his niece which didn’t need much convincing from either of them
Speeding through the streets they only hoped that they were in the clear when they got there. Jin-man informed them that Ji-an wouldn’t let anybody in if they didn’t answer her riddle, smart kid honestly. As they parked up and ran in, in synchronized silence they could hear movement further up the stairs and a small voice on the other side.
As they advanced up the stairs they could see a man peak into the room and duck out slowly, probably looking to see if Ji-an was alone. Then he opened the door again and started to advance towards Ji-an but before his whole body got through the door Honda lurched forward to grab his arm and pull him back hitting his face on the wall. As he did he dragged him back into the hallway closing the door to Ji-an.
As Honda landed an initial punch Y/N who has just under him on the stairs grabbed the mans right leg pulling him straight to the ground. As Y/N pulled him Honda took the time to put on his brass knuckles incase the guy proved more a fight than he looked. As the man hit the floor he scrambled back pulling a knife out of his holster and decided to go for his closest target which was Y/N. She dodged as much as much could but a step only gives you so much lean so she was caught on her cheek but it didn’t make much of an impact to her.
In one movement Honda kicked the guys extended arm throwing him against the wall again and making him drop the knife. As Y/N picked up the knife she followed the upwards movement hitting him with the butt of the knife which was followed by Honda football kicking him one more time knocking the man clean out. It was a good thing Honda closed the door so Ji-an didn’t see any of that. Before moving the man Honda slid into the room to type ‘Stable Tennis’ on his mobile to show Ji-an, the answer to her riddle.
After asking Ji-an to hide in her room Y/N and Honda had moments to decide what to do from here.
“I am not leaving you in here alone Honda that is suicide.” Y/N signed to him angrily. Her brother did always have a death wish when it came to protecting people.
“One of us needs to be first defense what if they wipe us out.” Honda signed back. He knew what had to happen but he thought he had a pretty good chance anyway. It was worth it to repay Jin-man, he promised he’d protect Ji-an. Y/N didn’t have long to argue because they heard people coming up the stairs and Honda took the time to shove Y/N into the room with Ji-an.
Y/N got down to Ji-ans height smiled and waved hoping to not make this more scary but Ji-an was just looking at the cut across Y/N’s cheek. Then the door squeaked open and Y/N put her fingers over her lips to motion Ji-an to be quiet. Y/N motioned Ji-an over to the corner of the room near the window and stood in front of her listening to the sounds.
Then it was a quick sequence of sounds and with every sound Y/N could feel little Ji-an behind her jump. First there was someone crashing through a door then it was silenced gunshots. In that moment Y/N turned around to cover Ji-an’s ears with her hands to cover the sounds of violence but there was no one there for Y/N. She heard the entire exchange having to picture what was happened as she was completely blind and couldn’t move or Ji-an would hear too.
“Who the hell is this bastard.” She heard come through the door. In this moment she started to look around and noticed the very limited options they had. Y/N tried to focus on the conversation but she heard more footsteps and no more punches which only meant one thing. Y/N looked out the window to the drop below and knew the only option she had.
“Can you hang on the other side of the window, down to the pipe?” Y/N wrote on her phone and Ji-an nodded enthusiastically or maybe it was adrenaline. She really was Jin-man’s niece. As Ji-an lowered herself Y/N pulled her knives out of her pocket and positioned herself out of view of the door slightly behind a bookcase, not enough to hide but enough that they wont notice initially.
Y/N waited until at least 1 person had walked completely through and she took a quick wide step into view and hit the first 2 people in her view with a knife in the eye for each dropping them instantly. She low dashed forward to grab the weapon that the first person dropped. As she picked up the axe the 3 people in the living room all turned from looking at Honda on the floor to her. One pulled a gun quickly and shot her in the left shoulder which she retaliated by throwing the newly acquired axe in their head putting them down.
As she adjusted her shoulder another one lunged forward to grab her, as her body got thrown into the living room right next to Honda she finally noticed his arm. While she was preoccupied with her brothers corpse someone landed a kick across her face sending her closer to the front door. Having to adjust quickly Y/N stood up and grabbed one of the umbrellas from the rack to her right. Not exactly a knife but what choice did she have. She lunged forward with the umbrella using it to knock the wind out of the closest guy to her. As his leant down reacting to the hit Y/N grabbed the back of his head and went forward with her knee colliding the two and knocking him out instantly.
She noticed that the other 2 men had gone through the room to Ji-an and she dashed forwards and she could only see one man in the room. Y/N dashed forward grabbing the man before he could notice and sending his head through the unopened window next to him. As he his head split open from the collision with the glass Y/N dragged his body back with so much force he hit his head on the wall on the other side knocking him out.
“JI-AN” Y/N screamed out the window as she could see the other man who had already reached the floor. Y/N flung herself over the window ledge and down the surfaces until she was an ok distance to jump down to the sofas. Just as she landed she heard the car collide with Ji-an and it made the man stop in his tracks. Y/N darted towards Ji-an and the man took the moment to dash in the other direction to avoid her. Luckily someone had already called the ambulance because by the time Y/N got to Ji-an she collapsed from the head wound she didn’t notice.
Luckily the hospital let Y/N sit beside Ji-an after her many protests, she was handling her injuries well and frankly with no guardian for Ji-an present the hospital felt bad for her. So that’s what Jin-man returned too. Ji-an was sleeping in the hospital bed covered in cuts and bruises and Y/N was across the couch with even more cuts and bruises. Y/N was on attack mode woke up just from the sound of the door but settled the moment she noticed it was Jin-man. She stood up and walked towards him motioning to go out into the hallway to let Ji-an sleep.
When she stepped into the light properly Jin-man could see all her injuries, well at least the ones on her face and arms. She had a full slash mark across her cheek and it looked like the bone close to her eye had been busted open. Her arms were covered in contact bruises and ever cuts from the shards of glass from the window. Jin-man struggled to contain the panicked look in his face.
“Are you hurt?” Y/N whispered. He couldn’t believe she was asking him in the moment.
“Are YOU hurt?” He returned the question because frankly it didn’t matter what happened to him.
“No.” She shook her head as she spoke almost dismissing his worry.
“Then why are there bruises all over your face.” He said softly but making sure to add a level of sarcasm. Y/N let out a small laugh in response and Jin-man’s face softened towards her as she looked back into the room towards Ji-an.
“She’s a lot like you y’know. Climbed out a window to survive,” Y/N let out a breathy laugh as she did she turned back to Jin-man who was looking at Ji-an and it was Y/N’s face that softened now, “Doctors said I’d be fine it just hurts like hell, had blood running out of my eye so it will stay red for a while.”
This comment made Jin-man turn back to Y/N and he properly noticed that the white of the right eye was completely red and the eye around completely yellow and purple bruised. He nodded at her comment and couldn’t settle the guilt, he’d gotten her injured and her brother killed.
“It’s not your fault Jin-man,” she spoke clearing the dead air. Maybe she could tell what he was thinking, he chuckled at that thought. If there was anyone to know what he was thinking it was her no matter how neutral his expression, “Honda would’ve done it all over again to protect that little girl, and so would I.”
Y/N reached up and put his hand on his cheek transferring her warmth to him and his shoulders relaxed for a brief moment.
“I’m going to get more sleep you’ll need to find the nurses and get the forms I can’t fill them out because I’m not family, I’ll keep an eye on her.”
Y/N let her hand fall from his face and she walked back into the room. Jin-man just stood there for an extra second to take in the whole situation before he walked towards the nurses desk.
“Excuse me? I’m Jeong Ji-an’s uncle, I got told I needed to fill out some forms?” He said quietly. The nurses head from behind the desk shot up and she shot him a wide customer service smile even if it was 4 in the morning.
“Ah yes, it does need to be a parent if possible?” The nurse replied.
“Mmm, There was an accident both of her parents are gone. It’s just me actually.” As he spoke the words settled in. Bale had killed his brother, SIL, friend and he knew he’d also killed his mother he just couldn’t prove it. He noticed how the nurses face dropped in horror and she stuttered a reply.
“I’m so sorry sir your girlfriend mentioned an accident but didn’t know the details I’ll grab it now.” The nurse whisked away before Jin-man even understand her comment let alone even correct her. When she came back he decided to just fill it out in the waiting area since he needed the light. As he did he kept thinking about the situation over and over again.
As he slowly got further through the paperwork got to emergency contacts. He wrote down his contact information first and then stared at the piece of paper for a while where it said ‘Emergency Contact 2’ His mind wrestled with the thought for a while before he decided to add Y/N’s name as well. He submitted the papers back to the nurse and made his way out of the hospital towards the convenience store across the road.
When Jin-man finally returned Y/N was still awake but she was sat with her back in the corner her eyes fixated on the door like a security turret she was shrouded in complete darkness and her pistol concealed in a pocket with the silencer pointing with a clear shot of the door. Once Jin-man entered in the room Y/N let herself exit the darkness and the moonlight hit her perfectly. Jin-man nodded towards the door for the pair of them to leave Ji-an to sleep.
They walked in silence towards a table that had a clear view of Ji-ans door and they took seats either side and Jin-man pulled out the convenience store bag of food and Y/N chuckled noticing it was everything she normally picks out.
“So what do we do now?” Y/N sighs after taking a bite of food. Jin-man raised his head from the table to look at her and cocked his head to the side raising an eyebrow.
“We?” Was all he managed to save. She lost her brother and she was still willing to help him.
“Of course. Jin-man we have known each other for years. We help people in need and right now Ji-an needs everyone she can, poor little girl just lost her parents.” Y/N spoke so matter of factly in the moment it was throwing Jin-man off internally but he kept composure.
“Honda…” It seemed like he could only speak in one work sentences.
“Would do the same for you if it was me on the floor that day. We have been through hell and back before Jin-man, you think I care for you so little that I’d abandon you now?” Jin-man had never known loyalty like it, he had never known a person who was able to care so deeply in such a horrific world, with everything she had seen and done.
“First I need to go to Babylon, this stops now.” Jin-man hoped that if he said he’s stop hunting Bale then Babylon would call a ceasefire. Y/N nodded slowly. She started to slowly think about what Jin-man had mentioned to her and Honda a couple of days before. He knew her so well it was like he could see the cogs moving so he cocked an eyebrow at her urging her to speak her mind.
“You mentioned a website?”
And that’s how murthehelp began. Y/N took her and her brothers business online and her and Jin-man moved it out into the countryside along with Ji-an. Now to multitask raising a kid and running a shop for killers.
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estrellami-1 · 2 months
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | . . . | Part 58 | Part 59 | Part 60
“Huh,” Robin says, squinting at Eddie before continuing to bandage Steve up.
He blinks at her. “What?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs. “Just… I think you’re gonna be better for him than I thought.”
Steve frowns at her. “You thought he’d be bad for me?”
She flicks his forehead. “That’s not what I said, dingus. I thought he’d be good for you. I just didn’t think he’d be this good for you.”
He frowns and flicks her forehead back before beginning to smile. “So you approve of him?”
She exchanges a look with Eddie—a kind of can you believe him?—before smiling at Steve. “Yeah,” she says softly. “I do.”
Steve’s cheeks pinken as he grins first at her, then Eddie. “I’m glad.” After another minute, he flinches. “Ah- Jesus, Robs, what’re you trying to do, dig to China?”
“Sorry,” she murmurs. “Just trying to clean it.”
He sighs and tugs on her hands. “Stand up.” She does, and he frowns at her hands, still in his. “You’re shaking.”
“I hate seeing you hurt. And after everything that happened today…”
“I know,” he murmurs. “But tell me the truth, okay? Are you okay to finish this?” She bites her lip, and he sighs. “Okay. I’ll finish, Robbie. D’you wanna go talk Alli into making all of us some hot chocolate?”
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You didn’t have to,” he answers. “You never hesitate when the answer is yes. Now go annoy Alli, okay? She’s always wanted a little sister.” He grins and ruffles her hair, and she squawks, batting his hand away.
“Fine! Fine, I’m going. But nothing had better happen in here,” she says, pointing at them. “I mean it. No funny business.”
“You know I’m older than you?” Steve asks, still grinning at her as he bodily turns her around.
“That means nothing and you know it,” she retorts, before walking out to the kitchen.
“She gonna be okay?” Eddie asks.
Steve smiles softly at him. “She’ll be fine. It’s just… it’s been four years of this shit, y’know? And every time we thought it was over, only for it to come back when we’d let our guards down.”
Eddie nods. “So she’s hesitant to believe it’s really over.”
“Exactly,” Steve agrees. “But it is, this time. We made sure of it. Now it’s just… time, I guess. Time to let us process, let us realize it is really over. Time to let us get over it.”
“And you?” Eddie asks, pulling him back over to his seat and sinking to his knees, grabbing the first aid kit and pulling it closer.
“Me,” Steve agrees, a bit dumbly. He blinks a few times when all Eddie does is look up at him. “Um. I’m gonna admit, everything went to white noise the moment you knelt down.”
Eddie chuckles. “Mind out of the gutter, sweetheart, we promised Robin. How’re you holding up? What are you gonna need to do to process?”
Steve hums. “I think I just need time, too. What I’m most worried about is going back to my time, and everything that’ll have changed because of this. ‘Cause yeah, it all sucked, but I learned some really valuable lessons and made some really good friends that I wouldn’t have otherwise.”
Eddie chuckles. “I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem. It’s hard not to like you.”
Steve blushes, but fires back, “Have you met Mike?”
Eddie snickers. “Mike’s a twerp, and besides, I’m sure you can win him over if it comes down to it.”
Steve shrugs, and they fall silent, Steve watching as Eddie finishes cleaning out the wound and carefully applies a clean bandage. “There,” he murmurs, fingers lingering on the edge. “Feel okay? Too tight?”
“Feels fine,” Steve promises. “Where’d you learn that?”
Eddie sends him a crooked smile. “Before I came to live with Wayne.”
“Oh,” Steve whispers.
Eddie smiles easily at him. “It was a long time ago. I’m alright.” He sets his hands on Steve’s thighs. “Should we talk about this? About us?”
“We should,” Steve agrees, picks up Eddie’s hands to toy with them. “The hardest part, I think, is we don’t know what’s going to happen. We don’t know if the me from this time will remember. We don’t know if I’ll remember once I’m back in my time. And there’s not really a way to test it.”
“I think that makes it easier,” Eddie says softly. “Here and now, in the here and now, what do you want? What do you want us to be?”
Steve flushes and ducks his head. “What do you want?”
“Nuh-uh,” Eddie says teasingly, shaking his head with a smile. “I asked you first.”
Steve ducks his head even further. “I- I guess… boyfriends? If that’s- if you-”
“Hey,” Eddie whispers, squeezing his hands. “That sounds great.”
“Okay,” Steve whispers back, squeezing his hands. He’s grinning wide enough his eyes are slits. “Cool.”
Eddie bursts out into giggles, rocking up onto his knees to kiss Steve’s forehead. “Cool,” he agrees.
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clockwayswrites · 1 year
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Bleeding Out, Bleeding In - the Start
This is the start of the resulting fic from the winning poll option of 'Crime Boss is a Dangerous Job'. And boy did it go places.
A solid 40 of you wanted to wait for ao3, but the other 59 are feral gremlins who want a part now! Those who want to wait, don't feel pressured to read. This might be up on ao3 this week or if not then next week! (Yes, that doesn't add up to 100, one vote is me so I can see the poll results.)
wc: 1059 Content Warnings: canon typical violence, blood, blood drinking, mentions of death and dying, brief mentions of human tracking, so much cussing.
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Brainless motherfuckers.
Every single one of them, brainless motherfuckers.
One would think that eight heads in a duffel bag would have been enough.
One would think that people would learn his fucking rules. They were easy rules. Don’t hurt kids. Don’t sell to kids. Don’t hurt sex workers. Don’t traffic people. Don’t fuck with him.
And these motherfuckers had fucked with him. They had fucked with his rules.
Red Hood stared down at the lifeless eyes of the traitorous lieutenant.
Ex-lieutenant.
Brainless motherfucker.
Hood was insulted that someone that incompetent had managed to make him bleed, even if it had been eleven against one. And fuck if he wasn’t bleeding badly. Hood pressed his hand tighter to his wound with a hiss and let himself slump back against the grimy wall of the ally that he had slunk into. His hand became wet with warmth.
He must have already bled through the hasty field bandage that he had slapped on the wound.
Numbers slipped through Red Hood’s foggy mind as he tried to calculate about just how bad of a fact that was— about how heavily he must be bleeding out. Fuck if he wasn’t bleeding out.
Could he make it to his safe house in time? No. Could someone make it to him in time? Maybe, but who could he call? He wasn’t going to turn around and let another lieutenant stab him in the other side. B— maybe it would be better to just bleed out than deal with B and another lecture. As if this hadn’t been in self defense. As if he hadn’t acted to stop kids from being sold. As if a moment of hesitancy about killing a man he’d been working closely with for a year had been what got Hood in this spot.
And Dick was off world.
Dick was always off world when he needed him.
That wasn’t fair. What did Dick owe him? It’s not like they had ever been family. Dick had never wanted him. The last person who had wanted him didn’t even want him enough to stay sober.
Blood loss made him maudlin, apparently.
Dying by explosion had been easier.
“You know, not what I expected to find dumpster diving tonight.”
Hood’s hand dropped to brush over the grip of his gun. It was up and aimed before his head even had time to lull towards the voice. The hand holding the gun was steady even as his vision swam staring down the sight.
“Not that I’m doubting you can use that, Boss, but would rather you didn’t,” the stranger said, hands up in the air. One large duffel sat at their feet. Another smaller duffel was slung over their back. A hoodie at least three sizes too big swamped the slim figure— hiding both their form and face. The steel toed boots looked comically large at the end of stick thin legs.
Hood knew better than to think they weren’t a threat.
Anyone could be a threat in Gotham.
“Really, Boss, I’m just out here dumpster diving for supplies,” they continued, motioning to the warehouse district around them. “Not going to lie and say I won’t happily loot your corpse if you keel over right there, but would rather you stay breathing. I can help with that, if you let me.”
“And if I say no?” Hood asked, his voice a breathless rasp even through the modulation of the helmet.
“If you say no to the help, I’ll just be on my way. There are other dumpsters to go through like the feral raccoon that I am.”
His arm dropped down to hang limply at his side. He didn’t take his finger off the trigger. He shouldn’t trust this stranger. “Look more like a street rat to me.”
“We’ll compromise to possum then,” they said, slowly lowering their arms.
He shouldn’t trust this stranger. Did it mater if he did?
He was bleeding out.
The gun slotted back into its holster.
“There you are Boss, we’ll get you patched back up.”
Hood blinked. They were tucking themselves under his shoulder, leaning him up off the warehouse wall.
Hood blinked. They were disabling security on a heavy, cast iron door set into a concrete floor.
Hood blinked.
“Not going to lie, Boss, you’re in a bad way.” The words were distant— like listening to them through a thick wall. Static ran under the words. Static that burrowed under his skin and into his blood.
Static that burned at a part of him he tried to ignore.
“Think they got something pretty vital with that knife.”
He didn’t want to burn.
“Stitched you up but…”
He didn’t want to die.
“Oh Boss.”
Not again.
“I know, Boss.”
A cold hand brushed over his temple and he couldn’t hold back the whine at the sensation. He strained to arch up into the touch. He wanted it. He wanted to feel. He didn’t want to slip away again. He didn’t want that void of death. He didn’t want to die again.
The voice shushed him. “I know.”
He trembled. The static sang in his veins.
“There’s something I can try, Boss, but it will change thing.”
Things were always changing.
“Not like this. You’re not on the knife’s edge yet. You’re still living. If you die you right now you tip over to the other side.”
He’d done that before.
“I know, Boss. But if we do this, you’re not going to tip over anymore, you’re going to balance on that knife’s edge. Not dead but not alive. It’s a fine line to walk.”
Everything in his life was a tightrope: hero, villain; son, enemy; brother, stranger. What was one more thing? Alive, dead.
He didn’t want to be dead again.
“Okay, Boss, okay.”
The hand pulled a whine from his throat as it moved away. A soft coo hushed him quiet again. The sound rumbled in with the static untill the soothing noise sat inside him.
His head tilted up as something slid under his neck. Hands guided his head to lay back down onto a soft surface.
Something wet dripped against his lips. Spice bloomed across his tongue.
“There you go, Boss,” the voice soothed. The coo rumbled in his chest like a fluttering bird. “Drink up.”
Cold skin and wet warmth pressed against his lips.
Jason drank.
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ot8archivesblog · 4 months
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New Years Eve
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꒰ ͜͡➸ Pairing: ot8 x Reader
꒰ ͜͡➸ Genre: Fluff, cuddling, kiss, tears (of joy), a little sad at Felix pov but still a lot of fluff!!
꒰ ͜͡➸ w/c: 5,6k
꒰ ͜͡➸Masterlist
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Chan:
New Years Eve approached faster than expected and it had been a tradition for Chan and you, to always keep the Christmas tree until after New Year. The atmosphere seemed more cozy with the little tree in the corner and it made you feel more at home. It was sad that Chan wasn’t able to spend it with his family, but you wanted to make sure that he’d still feel comfortable and happy with spending it with you. You had woken up earlier than normal, being happy that Chan was still asleep and started working on the breakfast first. The dinner would certainly be more fancy but first you’d get the breakfast done. Chan normally worked late, meaning he often slept in on his off days, which was lucky for you. You were nearly done with the breakfast when strong arms wrapped around your waist and his head found its way to your shoulder. “Why are you up so early?” You questioned while turning your head to him, to give him a quick kiss. “You weren’t next to me, so I wanted to see what you’re up to.” His voice extremely deep, as he had just woken up. “I figured I could make some breakfast for us, before I get to dinner.” “Oh, about that…” His tone seemed strained and you wondered what was going on. “We can’t spend the evening together. Something came up at the Company, something about plagiarism… I really have to go and sort it out and that could take a while…” He sighed and you tried to not show your disappointment by smiling at him. “It’s okay Channie. It’s not your fault and those are some serious allegations. Just take care of them, I’ll wait here for you.” He apologised a million times during breakfast and you tried to reassure him as much as possible that it would be okay. After that, he had to leave, leaving you alone at the apartment. That was certainly not what you had planned. Not only couldn’t he spend the evening with his family, but now he couldn’t spend it with you either, which kind of made you sad. Not for yourself, but for Chan. He deserved a break and it bothered you that he couldn’t get one. You started watching a series you really liked, while snacking on some stuff. You figured you could just get something delivered when you felt hungry. However, your phone suddenly went off and you saw Felix’ name on the display. “Felix? Is everything okay?” “Yes, everything is okay. I was wondering if you’re free.” “Free? To do what?” “Well, the boys are all at their houses with their families and I heard Chan-Hyung was caught up by work so I figured you’re free too.” “Weren’t you going to celebrate with Hyunjin and his family?” “Yeah, but something came up.” “Oh, well sure. What did you have in mind?” “Lets meet at that one restaurant we all liked. I’ll send you the address.” With that you hung up and started to get ready. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary for you to spend time with the boys, or one of them but it still felt weird. After you got ready you went to the address that Felix send you and waited for him in front of the restaurant. “Hey there, baby.” You immediately turned around and saw none other than Chan himself. “Channie?” You looked around, searching for Felix but he was nowhere to be seen. “Felix is not here. He’s at Hyunjin’s.” Chan chuckled and you tilted your head, slightly confused now. “I wanted to surprise you. I knew you had dinner planned and everything and that you wouldn’t accept my help, so I figured I’d make up an excuse to leave and get you to come here.” He finally explained yourself and you pouted. “You’re a meanie! I was so worried because you had to work on New Years Eve.” “Sorry, sorry.” Chan chuckled and hugged you. You two entered the restaurant, with a beautiful view over Seoul. You were lost in your conversation when you heard the first fireworks. It was 23:59. “They started early.” “No, the big fireworks have yet to come.” Chan answered but you certainly missed them, as Chan connected his lips with yours.
Minho:
You were currently getting ready to make your way to Minho’s. Even though you spend more time at his apartment then yours, you still kept yours. You were too lazy to move all your stuff to his, but you two wanted to do so in the new year. It was one of your goals, that you had set together so that you didn’t always have to go back and forth when you two practically lived together anyway. You were looking forward to Minho but also to Soonie, Dori and Doongie. The three little cats had stolen your heart the moment you went to Minho’s for the first time, so you certainly couldn’t imagine a New Years Eve without them. But moving them from Minho’s apartment to yours would be too uncomfortable for them, as it would be a new environment. The evening would be uncomfortable enough because of the noise already, the change of environment didn’t need to be as well. You didn’t mind anyways. You often went to Minho’s, instead of Minho coming to yours, so it was fine. Your phone pulled you out of your thoughts and your screen lit up with Minho’s name. “Hey.” You put the phone on speaker as you were still applying makeup. “Are you on your way yet?” You could hear a soft “miau” from the background and couldn’t help but smile. “No, I’m still getting ready, why?” “I have to go pick something up, so I was just wondering if you’re already on your way or if I still have time.” “I’ll still need a bit so you can go and pick it up.” You also had to pick something up on the way, so it would take you longer anyway. “Okay, that’s great. I’ll see you in a bit then.” You ended the call and soon finished with your makeup as well. After getting into a comfortable dress, you took your bag and left your apartment. You decided to drive to Minho’s today. It wasn’t too far on foot, only about 20 minutes but you still had to pick something up and you didn’t really want to carry it with you all the way to his house. It didn’t take long and you were finally on your way to Minho’s apartment. “Yes?” Minho immediately picked up after you called him. You were close to his apartment now and you wanted to make sure he’s already back. “I’m close now. Are you still at the out? If so, then I can take you with me. I’m with my car.” “No, don’t worry. I’m already home.” It didn’t take you long to arrive at his apartment, parking your car and making your way up to his floor. He opened the door for you, as you had forgotten the key at your apartment and took the bags from your hands. “What did you get?” Minho asked as he placed them on top of the kitchen counter as you were greeted by Soonie, Doongie and Dori. “Just some stuff.” You answered, preoccupied with the little cats. After a few minutes you finally joined him in the kitchen and only then did you notice a cake. “No way… Is that what you went out to get?” “Yes, remember when we both saw it at the store? We both liked it so I figured I could get it for today.” “Minho…” He looked at you and immediately understood. “You got it too?” He couldn’t help but laugh at that, which you immediately joined in. Now two cakes were sitting at the living room table. You had also gotten a lot of snack for Soonie, Doongie and Dori of course. “Sometimes we really do think too alike.” You chuckled as you snuggled up to him on the couch. “True, but great minds think alike so we can’t do anything about it.” You smiled softly and the evening went rather calmly, until the fireworks started. You softly cuddled the three cats, so that they wouldn’t be too scared, offering them a lot of snacks and petting them, taking their minds of the fireworks. As soon as they were finally done, Minho couldn’t help but admire you openly. “I love you.” “I love you too.” A soft kiss followed, sealing your new year. 
Changbin:
“Baby, you don’t have to be so tense.” Changbin’s voice slightly pulled you out of your concentrated state. You had been taking your wardrobe apart since the morning and Changbin finally decided to try and calm you down. His parents had invited you two to spend the New Years Eve together and even though you had met his family quite often, you still got nervous every time. His mother loved you and so did his sister and father, but somehow, even while knowing that, it didn’t calm you. “Binnie, we’re having dinner at your huge house, with your family… I don’t think anyone would be anything but tense.” “But it’s not the first time you’ve been there and met them.” He argued back, leaning back on the chair he had been sitting on for hours now. You had asked him to help you find an outfit and he of course didn’t mind, but the worry on you made him slightly worried too. He hated to see you tense, insecure or sad, so this was really no the setting he had hoped for. He wanted you to be comfortable, not worried. “Listen, baby.” He stood up and softly embraced your form, your head leaning against his chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. “If it’s too much we can cancel.” “No, it’s not that.” “What is it then?” “I don’t know. I just wanna leave a good impression.” “They love you. I doubt you can leave any better impression than you already have.” “You think so?” “Of course, baby. They love you. You know that. My mother and sister literally never leave your side when you’re there and my father likes you a lot too. There’s really nothing to worry about. They're all looking forward to spending today with us both. They even told me I shouldn’t bother showing up without you.” He chuckled at that and you had to join, finally easing your tensed muscles. “Okay, fine. Thank you Bonnie.” He gave you a soft kiss, before he left to get ready as well. It didn’t take long for you to finally choose a dress for the evening and you started to get ready as well. The makeup took you a bit as you weren’t sure what exactly you wanted to do, but you were still on time. “Lets take my car.” Changbin offered, taking the keys for his car, as you both made your way out of the apartment. It was rather chilly and you had forgotten our jacket, but the car was thankfully in front of the apartment so you didn’t walk for long. Changbin’s mother was the one to open the door for your two and she immediately embraced you first, before she did so to Changbin as well. “You two look amazing! Come inside.” She gently took your hands, leading you to the living room. Changbin’s father and sister were also already there and greeted you with the same warmth, his mother had done just seconds ago. You found yourself between his mother and sister, engaged in a conversation while he was talking to his father. It didn’t take long until dinner was ready and the conversation was moved to the dinning room. It was really nice and you felt silly for worrying so much in the first place. You felt Changbin taking your hand under the table and couldn’t help but smile at him softly. It was soon time for the fireworks, so you all went outside. It was even colder than before and you really regretted not taking a jacket. However, as perceptive as he was, Changbin of course had noticed it and draped his jacket over your shoulders. “Thank you.” “Of course.” The soft kiss that followed drowned out the sound of the fireworks completely, as you only focused on him and your beating heart.
Hyunjin:
You woke up rather early, being extremely excited for the day. It was New Years Eve, but that was certainly not the reason of your excitement. Hyunjin had promised to take you to his art studio today. He had been really inspired the last few weeks and had spend a lot of time there. You had often gone there but it felt different today. It somehow felt special. Hyunjin had already left earlier, claiming that he still had to finish a certain painting before you came, so you fixed yourself a small breakfast and readied some stuff you could eat for dinner together. You doubted that you would be back before midnight, so you could spend the evening at his art studio. After you had fixed up something for dinner, which you could heat up at his studio, you started to get ready. It was a loose dress with a pair of black leggings. You wanted to be comfortable for the evening but also look pretty, so you also fixed your makeup before calling Hyunjin. “Jinnie, are you done?” “Nearly, why did you want to come now?” “I wanted to go pick something up from the store first, but I’d come after that. How much more time do you need?” “Around an hour?” “Sure! Then I’ll walk.” You ended the call, grabbed your bag and made your way to the store. You wanted to get some snacks and sweets before going to his studio. You figured he’d be hungry and if you really were to spend till midnight there you would certainly need some snacks and drinks as well. After getting everything you needed, you finally made your way to his art studio. It wasn’t too far but it still took you a while on foot. It had already gotten dark by the time that you had arrived and knocked on the door. “Come in!” You opened the door and were immediately awestruck. Petals of red roses were scattered around the floor, while candles lit the way. His paintings were nowhere to be seen, which made sense because of the candles. You followed the candles and were met with Hyunjin on the terrace. A cozy little sit-area, made out of cushions and blankets greeted you, being illuminated by little hanging lights. It looked like it came straight out of a fairytale. You knew Hyunjin is romantic, but you certainly hadn’t expected this. “J-Jinnie, was this why you came earlier?” “Yep, I wanted to surprise you so I had to move all the paintings to safety and then start on this.” He smiled softly, giving you a red rose before pulling you into his embrace. He took your bags afterwards and you snuggled up to each other in the little make-shift couch, eating and snacking on the stuff that you had brought with you. “I do get to see what you’ve been painting tho, do I?” “Of course. I only moved them to safety but they’re still here. Even though it’s one painting I have been working on for quite some time now.” He helped you up and lead you to a painting that was covered by a cloth. It was the only painting that was on the terrace with you. He pulled the cloth of in seconds and you were left in awe for a second time. He had painted you. “No way you see me as that beautiful.” You couldn’t take your eyes off it and he couldn’t take his eyes off you, when the fireworks went off. “No… I see you as even more beautiful but it would be impossible to capture that on a canvas.” He admitted and the moment you turned to him to disagree he connected your lips, silencing the complaint in seconds. Not that you minded though, it was certainly the most beautiful way to start the new year.
Jisung:
You really worried about Jisung at this point. He had spent a lot of time in the studio in the past few weeks. At first you had thought that it was because he was working on a song with Chan and Changbin, but they both had told you that they had already finished all the songs they had been planning to finish before New Years Eve. They wanted to take it easy and continue in the New Year with new and fresh motivation. They were of course already planning their next comeback but it wouldn’t be too stressful for now at least. However, Jisung still rarely left the studio and you really wondered what he had been working on. He didn’t tell you and apparently neither did he tell the boys. None of them knew what he had been working on, but Chan suggested that it might be a new solo song or something close to that. Maybe he had gotten some inspiration and was now thriving in it, not wanting to stop until he was finished. Typical for artist and the boys all knew the feeling. You however didn’t, so you worry only got worse whenever you saw him return to the apartment, completely tired. Every night until today. It was New Years Eve and you were surprised when you were met with a sleeping Jisung in your shared bed. It was still rather early and you hadn’t heard him when he had returned last night, so he probably had pulled an all-nighter again. You got up as quietly as possible, so that you wouldn’t wake him, wanting him to rest as much as possible. Wanting to surprise and energise him, you started on making brunch, as you knew he wouldn’t wake up for breakfast, so you would just have to combine them. It wasn’t a rare occasion and you didn’t mind, you just wanted him to have as much rest as he could get, before he would get back to working again. He woke up around 11 am, softly hugging your form when he saw you. “Did you rest enough?” Your voice was quiet, seeing that the sleep hadn’t left him completely yet. “Mhm.” “Should we eat something?” He only nodded at that and you two made your way to the kitchen to eat the brunch you made. “Are you going back to the studio?” You were surprised when he shook his head. “Well not alone at least.” “What do you mean?” “Well it’s New Years Eve, so I was wondering if you wanna come with me.” He smiled softly at you, as he took another bite of his food. “Sure!” You had always wanted to accompany him after you had heard from Chan that he was working on something alone, but you also didn’t want to intrude. You knew that Jisung was often insecure about his lyrics or songs, so you didn’t want to push him to show you. So him asking you to accompany him was a huge thing and it made you super happy. It was already getting dark when you two had gotten ready and made your way towards the studio. It wasn’t too cold, so you two decided to walk, as it wasn’t far away from the apartment either. “What type of song is it?” You asked after a while. “I’ll let you listen to it later.” He answered and surprise took over your features again. Telling you about it was one thing, but letting you listen to it before Chan or Changbin did… was a complete other thing. You always listened to his songs, but he only let it happen after Chan and Changbin had agreed that it was really good. Jisung only wanted to show you amazing songs, even though he knew you would love all of them. You finally arrived at the studio and it was rather close to midnight now, after you had also eaten dinner. You wondered what song it was, as Jisung still didn’t let you listen to it. He took your hand softly and lead you to the rooftop of the studio. “Here.” He gave you headphones and it didn’t take you long to understand that the song was about you. “Sungie, I-…” Tears were welling up in your eyes but he didn’t give you any time to start crying, as his lips found yours the moment the fireworks erupted. “Happy New Year, Jagi.”
Felix:
You were really happy that Felix had gotten the opportunity to spend the New Years Evening with his family in Australia. You were currently driving him to the airport and even though you were sad that you couldn’t spend it with him, you were still happy he could with his family. “Do you have everything? Passport, clothes?” You asked for the millionth time this day. You were more anxious than Felix was, not wanting him to miss his chance to go see his parents. You had fussed over him the entire time when he had been packing and he could only smile at how cute you were being. “Yes, love. We’ve gone over it at home, in the car and here. I think I have everything. Don’t worry too much.” He smiled, his typical angelic smile, at you. You would certainly miss him tonight. A soft kiss later and he was on his way to his gate. You stayed until you couldn't see him anymore and then left as well, only then letting the tears fall that had threatened to. You went back to your shared apartment but it felt so empty without Felix so you figured you could go out. Getting ready and wearing something warm, you made your way to the beach. It had become quite a tradition to watch the fireworks with Felix together from this beach. You two had done so the first year you started dating and kept doing it every year, until today. Normally, Felix was too busy to fly to Australia, but this year was lucky and he found the time to do so. You strolled through the beach, your eyes fixed on the ocean. It had already gotten dark and it would only be a few hours until midnight. You pondered over calling Felix but you didn’t want him to see you cry. You didn’t want to make him sad. You sat down at your favourite spot on the beach, the spot where Felix had told you that he loved you. The spot where everything with you two had begun, when you suddenly felt someone behind you. You immediately turned, but you certainly hadn’t expected to see your angel of a boyfriend. “Lixie? But how? Why?” You couldn’t believe your eyes. It was really Felix standing in front of you. “I'm sorry for lying.” He softly started while embracing your smaller form, not too tight so you could still look up at him. “What?” “I didn’t book a flight to Australia. I wanted to, but when you said you wouldn’t be able to come, I decided against it as well. We spent Christmas with my family, so that’s more than enough for me.” “But I drove you to the airport.” “I wanted to surprise you. I told Chan-Hyung about it and he helped me. He picked me up after you had left.” Only now did you notice the little bag and flowers he had with him. He gave you the bouquet with flowers and you didn’t know how you had been able to unsee it. It was huge and beautifully arranged. “Lixie, I-…” “Just accept it please. I know what’s going on in your cute little brain now, Love. But this is what I wanted.” He smiled softly and you couldn’t hold your tears back, hiding your face on his chest. After you had calmed down, you two sat down on the blanket he had brought and enjoyed his signature brownies until the fireworks were only minutes away. “Love.” You turned to him. “You have something here.” “Where-…” But he didn’t let you finish as his lips connected with yours the moment the sky was lit up by the fireworks. 
Seungmin:
It was finally New Years Eve. You had been l looking forward to it for months now. You had a huge surprise planned for Seungmin. The boys had helped you to keep it a secret from your lovely boyfriend for months now and you were quite sure that Seungmin didn’t suspect a thing. You had prepared it whenever he was with the boys and the boys kept you updated on when he would call you or when he would leave first, to surprise you. It felt a bit mean, as you would always act surprised whenever he was home earlier, but it was all for the sake of your surprise today. His family had gone on a little vacation, so it would be only you two tonight. The moment his parents had said that, you got ready to make it the most beautiful New Years Eve ever. You were currently working on the dinner for later, with Seungmin together. He always helped you out when he was at home, today being no exception. “Is this good?” He always asked you, as he knew you were quite precise on how things had to be on special days. “Yep, thank you.” You beamed at him and he returned it with a soft smile. “By the way, I’ll have to pick something up at the store later but looking at dinner I might not be able to. Could you do it for me?” You needed him out of the house so you could get the last part of the surprise ready. “Of course. Just tell me which store and what you ordered.” His answer came in a heartbeat and you couldn’t help but think of him as adorable. “Thank you, Minnie.” Dinner was done faster than you had expected and it had gotten quite late as well. You started to arrange the plates and make some side-dishes so that it would look as if you’re still busy. “Can you go now, Minnie?” You asked softly, pulling him out of his thoughts, as he had been focused on one of the side-dishes. “Sure.” He got ready and headed out, not a second after the door shut you left the side-dish aside and called Chan. “Chan?” “I’m on my way already. There was a little bit of traffic but I should be there in 5.” “Okay that’s perfect!” You ended the call, getting the table ready now, placing all the dishes and side-dishes on it before you got the drinks. You turned the lights off, letting only the hanging lights illuminate the apartment. You nearly tripped when you heard the door, praying that it was Chan and not Seungmin. Thankfully, it was Chan and you took the little box from him. “Thank you so much, Chan.” “You’re welcome. Don’t forget to film his reaction.” “Camera is already standing, don’t worry.” You chuckled and Chan nodded, before he left. You couldn’t risk Seungmin, seeing Chan now. It didn’t take long for Seungmin to arrive and put the little cake you had ordered on the table. “Jagiya.” He called out and you could hear the confusion in his voice. “I went to pick up the stuff you ordered but the salesman gave me dog food as well. Did you plan on gifting it to one of the boys?” Seungmin asked as he entered the living room, only to let the dog food fall out of his hands. “Nope, I got it for you.” You stood there, with a little puppy in your arms. Chan had gone and picked him up as you had planned for it to be today. It had taken a long time to find the perfect little puppy at the shelter but when you did, you were overjoyed and the workers were more than happy to help with your little surprise. You knew how much Seungmin had wanted one. Chan had told you that he had even thought about buying you one, as he wanted to raise it together with you, so you figured that you could do so, in the new year. “No way… Jagiya you’re… Amazing.” He chuckled softly, before embracing the puppy and you as softly as he could. Connecting your lips the moment the fireworks erupted, while also covering the little puppies ears.
Jeongin:
“Should we pick it up before we go or on our way?” Jeongin’s question pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned to look at him. “The cake, Princess.” He chuckled softly. You were completely engrossed in your makeup that you had barely registered what he had said. “Oh. Let’s just pick it up on the way to the boys. If we pick it up now, we would just make the way twice.” “Then we should probably leave earlier tho.” Jeongin notified before he left the bathroom, where you were currently getting ready. You decided to spend this years New Year Eve together with the boys at the shared dorm. Jeongin and you mostly spend your time at your shared apartment so this would certainly be something else. Jeongin was already finished with getting ready and was just making sure you had everything. Everyone had gotten different tasks and Jeongin and you were in charge of the food. You had all decided to order some food, so that you could just enjoy the evening. You had first offered to get a cake too but Felix insisted in making it with Hyunjin as they would be making brownies anyway. You had already called the restaurant in advance, telling them when the food had to be ready. You were at your finishing touch when Jeongin had done so, wanting to make sure they wouldn’t start preparing it too early. He didn’t want it to be too cold. You slipped into your dress and left the bathroom, taking your bag and finally meeting Jeongin at the door. “You look amazing…” He was awestruck but so were you. Jeongin looked amazing no matter what. “Thank you. I can only give that back.” You chuckled softly and you two made your way to the car. It wasn’t too far but you also had to transport all the food, so it would be easier by car. Jeongin drove while you updated the boys. Chan, Changbin, Seungmin, Jisung and Minho were already at the dorm, meaning only Felix, Hyunjin, Jeongin and you were missing. Felix and Hyunjin had apparently run into traffic but they said that they would be there in around 10 minutes. By the time Hyunjin and Felix arrived, Jeongin and you had finally gotten the food and drove off as well. You finally joined the others, taking the bags out of the car. They had heard the car pull in and immediately came outside to help you with the bags of food. The aroma was filling the dorm and you all sat down around the table to start eating and joking around. By the time you had finally started to eat Felix brownies you were full. So you pushed the brownies aside for now and all went out to sit on the terrace, just enjoying the night view. The brownies on a table in between all of you, being there as little snacks, if anyone craved any. Jeongin had never left your side throughout the evening. Even though he knew that you were comfortable around the boys, he still didn’t want to be too far away. It was the first year that you spend New Year with the boys, so it was still something new and you didn’t know them as well as Jeongin did, obviously. He caressed your hand and it made you feel at ease immediately. It was close to midnight when the boys went back inside, using the excuse that they wanted to clean up the dorm a bit. “Tonight was really fun.” You broke the silence first, while leaning on Jeongin’s shoulder. “Yeah. I love you and I love the boys so this was really nice.” You smiled softly at that. “Thank you for inviting me.” “Of course. I love spending time with you and so do the boys.” “Who loves it more?” You turned to look up at him. “I do of course, Princess.” His signature smirk didn’t go unnoticed as he connected your lips, the sound of the fireworks that just erupted went unnoticed by both of you, as you lost yourselves in the kiss. Fully knowing that the boys would certainly tease you in a second about it. “I love you, Innie.” You whispered against his lips. “I love you too, Princess.” 
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When the Levee Breaks (pt. 5)
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Daryl Dixon x OFC
Story Summary: The one in which a stripper that used to know Merle and Daryl shows up at the Atlanta camp. Daryl’s feelings are complicated but mostly he hates her, right?
Chapt Setting: The Farm/Woods
Chapt Warnings: pretty explicit drug use (meth), season 2 Daryl, degrading/sexist language (he’s starting to get better lol), SOPHIA CHAPTER (I think that deserves a warning)
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: Daryl’s POV story. Daryl’s starting to be less of a dick, trying really hard to make it feel organic/make it make sense in the story. Idk. This chapter was really rough to write because… it made me sad. Also have no idea if it even makes sense (the hallucination bit, really hope it does) lol ALSO; I looked up some timeline stuff and i just?? Really thought Daryl was out there for days on his own? But apparently he wasn’t? We’re just gonna say that he is in this story. 🤷🏼‍♀️ I can only do so much when the timeline of TWD is fucking stupid sometimes. (I mean it. Come for me. Idc. Rick was in a coma for 59 days without food or water???!?!!!? Bye)
masterlist
17+ mdni (no smut in this one tho sorry)
Like fiberglass in my veins, it tears through me. Mellow, at first, almost think I should rail more before I can feel myself sweatin’. Different kinda sweat, comin’ from my fuckin’ soul. 
Haven’t felt like I was doin’ something ‘wrong’ since I was little. That feeling that ch’ya get when you’re doin’ somethin’ ya know you’re not s’possed to. This ain’t the first time I done spazz, but maybe it’ll be the last. The anxiety about doin’ it goes away the second I feel the devil kick me through my nose to the back of my brain. Even though I know it’s comin’, it always feels like gettin’ skullfucked by satan. 
Been out here for a day. I brought Merle’s shit with me because I decided to finally get rid of it somewhere. But I got somethin’ that needs doin’. And anyway, I got years of experience with ice. Not doin’ it. Sometimes doin’ it. Never let Merle know, he’d’ve made some big whoop ‘bout it. And everytime he’d gone and done more than he remembered, he woulda blamed me. Shit though, sometimes it was. 
M’not like Merle and Beatle. Ain’t an addict. Can do shit and put it down. Always been able to put it down. Figured other people could too, that they just didn’t wanna. ‘m not sure, but still kinda think that. 
Never felt fuckin’ guilty about it before, though. Fuckin’ Beatle. I’unno if it’s cuz I’d be done with her if she did the same shit, or if it’s cuz I know if she knew that I was - she’d be mad at me. Mad I didn’t invite ‘er. 
But this shit ain’t for fuckin’ playtime. Only reason ‘m even doin’ it i’so I can find Sophia. So I can stay awake, focus, and get ‘er back. They use ta use this shit in war. War’s the reason methamphetamines even exist. Nazi’s? Hell, every single one of ‘em in WWII. Kamikazi’s loaded up, totally fuckin’ wasted outta their minds on crystal while they bolted ‘em in. Kept ‘em awake, kept ‘em happy, kept ‘em focused on the mission. Tha’s what I gotta do. 
I can’t stop lookin’ til I find ‘er. Sophia. ‘m the only one that can, only one that knows how. And anymore, ‘m the only one that seems to give a shit. ‘Sides Carol. And Beatle. She wanted ta come. Told her she’d only slow me down. Distract me. Drawn more geeks. She woulda. Told her I didn’t need food either but she packed me some anyway. Knew I wasn’t gonna be hungry. Knew I was gonna use this dumb shit to help. But whatever. 
Doesn’t matter what happens to me, right? My life’s not worth nothin’, not compared to that little girl. Now that her old man’s outta the picture she actually got a chance. Maybe not mucha one, not the way shit is these days. But she got ‘er mom. And ‘er mom can actually be ‘er mom now. Not scared of some piece’a shit prick that finally got what was comin’ to ‘im. 
Man fuck that guy.
The trail I’m followin’ disappears so I backtrack to the mangroves where I found her doll and try to find another one. 
I start to wonder what kinda old man Beatle had. What kinda mom? Startin’ ta realize I don’t know a damn thing about Beatle. I know she likes drinkin’, she likes laughin’, she likes fuckin’ with me. But… 
Beatle keeps surprisin’ me. Not just because she let me hump her face a few days ago, the fact that she liked it, shit I haven’t even had a second to process that. Nah, more cuz she hasn’t brought it up. Hasn’t tried to hold my hand again. Hasn’t been annoyin’ me nearly as much. Not even at all, if ‘m honest. 
My brain’s goin’ a million miles a fuckin’ second over Beatle and what happened between us. Not just the other night, but back then. Got questions that need answerin’ but she ain’t here. Try to keep myself occupied with trackin’ but it ain’t like trackin’ takes much thinkin’. Follow every trail I pick up, but none of ‘em lead me to Sophia. 
I’d prob’ly start gettin’ really frustrated about this, but that’s what crystals good for. All the dopamine I need, and nothin’s annoyin’. Focus.
✨🏹 
Bent branches, wilted leaves, mud impressions, walker guts. Trees and rocks and blood and mud and dirt and greens and browns and reds and blacks. And it’s dark and it’s light and it’s dark. And it smells fuckin’ rotten. Bent branches, wilted leaves, another trail, another dead end, another undead shithead. Bent branches, wilted leaves, mud impressions, Beatle. 
How many times did I go into Merle’s bag and take the devils dick up my nose? Cuz Beatle’s standin’ here right in front of me. ‘Cept she’s all done up in makeup and glitter and her pupils are the size of dimes. Little pink crop top, tiniest pair’a daisy dukes I ever seen. ‘n she’s in my face sayin’ the shit I been thinkin’ about her sayin’ since that day she said it. 
“I like you, Dar.” 
“You like bein’ fucked up more.” I say it like I said it the last time. 
“That’s not true! I mean - I like you, Daryl.” She steps closer, tries to put her hand on my cheek before I brush her off. She slumps back a little, turning away. “You like me, too. You said it.” 
My hearts in my fuckin’ throat and I’m standin’ there, this can’t be fuckin’ happening. I know is’not but doesn’t make it feel any less real. “Tha’ was before I really knew ya, Beatle.” 
Hate that I said that to ‘er. Did I really say that? Cuz maybe that’s how I felt. Hell, maybe that’s how I felt last week. But it ain’t fair. I don’t know her. Still. Now. Don’t know ‘er at all. Thought I did. Thought I understood what kinda girl did those kindsa things. Is that really what I said? Fuck.
She’s still turned away from me, but I walk the half circle around to look at her face. And she’s sobbing. Silently, trying to stay as still as possible. I… I don’t remember this part. Maybe I didn’t see it? Nah, I saw it. Just didn’t care. Didn’t wanna look at ‘er. Didn’t want to hear her lame ass confession. Especially after she’d brought up that I told ‘er I liked ‘er. She sniffles and wipes her face before she pulls a bubble pipe out of the waistband of her shorts and lights the bottom, starts smokin’ it. She asks if I want a hit, like last time. 
I go to say no, but the words don’t come out. Instead my hand reaches for it. I look back up and Beatle’s dressed all different. Baggy jeans and a bikini top. That night. Fuck. Shit. I don’t want to relive that night. 
“I promise, I won’t tell Merle.” She says, handing me her lighter. And I smoke it. Inhaling the vapor slowly like she had. “You gotta sip at it, like it’s a coffee and you’re drinking the air to see if it’s still too hot. Roll the bowl or it will burn.” I do it the way she says. She’s like ten years younger than me, but she looks at me - talks to me like it don’t matter. Like she don’t see it that way. Guess I don’t either, never really did. 
I’d never wanted to smoke it before. But that night I wanted to. With her. Woulda done anything she’d asked that night ‘fore she ruined it. I ruined it. Til it got all fucked up an’ it was never the same again. Not the way I saw her, not the way she looked at me. 
I’m goin’ through memories like they’re happening all over again. Feelin’ fuckin’ sick. I don’t wanna remember this. 
I hand the pipe back to her and she asks, “How do you feel?” 
“Fine.” 
“Just fine?” She smiles. 
“Good.” I clarify. 
“Good.” 
Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. “I think I like you, Beatle.” 
She laughs too hard, “you think?” I feel myself getting sicker and angry again all at once. 
I split in half. One half feelin’ those same feelings I felt. That this conceited fuckin’ bitch really acts like everyone likes her. I hear her words and it sounds like she’s sayin’ ‘well obviously’ - but the other halfa me hears it like a real question. Like she wanted ta know what I meant. I don’t remember how I responded then, but I can hear myself say it, “Self-obsessed cunt.” 
Beatle laughs, “Is that what you like about me?” 
My misunderstanding continues; Thought she was pickin’ on me. Makin’ funna me. All these years. All this time. Thought she was fuckin’ laughin’ at me. Never told a girl I liked her. Not that I never did like one, just never told ‘em. Not like some teenage fuckin’ confessional. And I do and what?  she just laughs.  
Shit. 
Cuz inside ‘m screaming. Screamin’ at myself ta say somethin’ different. To jus’ tell her. She’s special, she’s exciting, and when she smiles at the shit I say it makes me feel like I’m the only one in the fuckin’ world to her. Tha’s what she wants ta here. Tha’s why she’s askin’. 
“Nah. Forget it.” She nods, and I thought she did forget it.  She forgot until she brings it up again in the memory I already re-lived. 
Tha’s how I was so damn sure she didn’t give a single shit about if I liked her or not. Didn’t bring it up again for months. Didn’t give a single shit about me at all. Felt stupid for ever thinkin’ she might. Just a dumb crush on a dumb girl, and I forgot everything about it. An’ every little thing she did that made me like ‘er ended up as somethin’ else I hated.  And every time I saw her after that she was fucked up on somethin’. Meth or booze or weed. Usually all three. 
It comes at me like a fuckin’ freight train, her lips crashing into mine, but this time I want it. Don’t wanna stop kissin’ ‘er. Instead my arms move and I push her down to the ground. She’s wearing the crop top again, can tell she’d been cryin’. She’s layin’ there in the rocks lookin’ up at me and I flash back to the living room where this happened, where she’d told me she liked me back. I wanna beat the shit outta myself for makin’ her look like that. 
How didn’t I see it? 
I did see it. I just didn’t care. Thought I knew what kinda girl did those kinds’a things. 
Wonderin’ what kind of old man she had. What kinda boyfriends before she met me. How maybe she’s just as fuckin’ scared’a feelin’ stuff as I am. How maybe it took her months to even get up the courage to tell me after I’d told ‘er never mind and slowly started to hate her. How many’a those drinks were for courage? How many’a those hits were cuz she was nervous?
Shit. 
And she’s runnin’ away like she did then. Away from me an’ outta my life until a few weeks ago. I know it ain’t real but I run after her anyway. Screamin’ her name into the open air like maybe somehow I can change it if I can get her to come back. But she’s gone and ‘m still running tryin’ to find her. Screaming for her ‘til my throats hoarse. 
‘Til the walkers hear me. 
✨🏹
Andrea fuckin’ shot me. What is wrong with this fuckin’ group?
✨🏹
Beatle’s in the bedroom with me but I can’t look at ‘er. Don’t wanna. Feels like she knows what I was doin’ out in them woods without ‘er. Like she can see the dirty shit in my soul and for some reason it makes me ill. Can’t look at ‘er. Knowin’ I hurt ‘er like that all that time ago. Knowin’ it now like I ain’t ever known anything else. 
It’s just me ‘n her and she doesn’t try to talk to me. Just lets me lay there hatin’ myself for all of it. Didn’t even find Sophia. 
Spent a lot of my days in my life hatin’ myself. Thinkin’ I was good for nothin’. Now ‘m sure of it. 
I feel the bed move under the weight of her. She hugs herself around me, and like some pathetic kid I fuckin’ cry. Don’t know if she can tell or not but she tries comforting me anyway. “It’s okay, Dar. You did your best.” Her voice… how could I have ever thought it was annoying? Her bein’ so nice just makes me hate myself more. 
“Lea‘me alone, Beatle.” Shakin’ her arm out from around me. She gets off the bed and sits back in the chair she’d been in. God, I fuckin’ hate myself. Wanna scream No, come back. I didn’t mean it. 
Still got question’s that need answerin’. This time Beatles right here, and I ain’t got nothin’ to lose. “Why were you naked in Merle’s room?” Grateful that she’s sittin’ behind me. Don’t think I could talk to ‘er ‘bout this stuff if she was lookin’ at me. Right now? If I saw her face? Don’t think I could talk at all. 
She laughs. Fuck her stupid fuckin’ laugh. “I still can’t believe you think I fucked around with Merle.” 
“Why not? Y’all hung out every other day.” My voice is sharp, feels like she’s laughin’ at me again. Always feels like everyone’s laughin’ at me. 
“We all hung out every other day, Dar.” 
“Stop callin’ me tha’.” 
“I was carpet surfing. Your dumbass brother spilled all the schkag all over the damn place.” 
Oh…. But, “Ya didn’t have any clothes on.” 
“I never had any clothes on, Daryl. You sure I wasn’t just wearing something ‘slutty’? You know, like you always said I was? Cuz I don’t remember, but I’ve never been naked with Merle. Ever. Sounds fuckin’ gross.”
Oh. 
It made sense. Makes so much sense, ‘specially now. She keeps talkin’ an’ ‘m grateful cuz if I tried to say anything else I’d start fuckin’ cryin’ again. “I liked you, man. I…” she stops herself. Wanna beg her to keep goin’ but I can’t. 
Instead I ask ‘er the only question I got left, “Why’d ya leave, then? Ya left ‘n ya never came back.” 
She’s silent for a long time. “When you and Merle moved, where’d you go?” 
She did come back. 
“Why’d ya leave, Beatle?” Doesn’t matter where Merle and I went. She’s avoidin’ the question. 
“Got sober. After that night… with you. Wanted to get sober. Wanted to…” she don’t say the rest but she don’t need to. I got it. Fuck, my heart can’t take it. 
“Cuz I said ya liked gettin’ fucked up more than ya liked me.” It ain’t a question. I know. 
“Think it was more the other thing you said.” 
Tha’ was before I really knew ya, Beatle. I can still taste the words. “Shouldn’t’a said that to ya.” My voice is barely a whisper. 
She gets back up on the bed and puts her arm around me again, this time I don’t shake her away. Her voice, so close to my ear, “I didn’t want to tell you that I came back. I didn’t want you to know that I got sober for you.” 
What? “Why not?” 
“Wasn’t sure you’d care. And if you did… I didn’t want you to have all the what-ifs in your head that I have in mine.” 
She hugs herself into me so tight it’s hard to breathe, and she tells me, “It doesn’t matter anymore.” 
I feel guilty, can’t take any of that back. Can’t make any of it better. I don’t deserve this. Her. After all the nasty shit I ever thought about her. After what I did to her the other night. I can’t bring myself to tell her to leave cuz I know she wants to be here. Don’t wanna make her cry again. 
So I let her hold me. Even though I don’t fuckin’ deserve it. 
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sunananaa · 1 year
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I’M NOT INTERESTED!!
二 - love at first sight
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wc: ~0.7k
note: not proofread!
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“Y/N OPEN THE DAMN DOOR” a familiar voice screamed from outside.
you already knew who it was, glancing at the clock on your wall you saw it was only 8:59. school started at 9 and you only lived about 3 minutes away.
not that it mattered, your first lesson on monday was always english and your teacher never cared whether you were late or not. there was no need to be in a hurry
it clearly wasn’t the same for the person on the other side of the door. they were banging non-stop making you think your door would break at any second.
“Hold on a second Yoich-”
“WE DONT HAVE A FUCKING SECOND GET OUT HERE NOW BITCH” isagi impatiently yelled quite loudly making you jump a bit. you forgot how foul-mouthed he could be when mad.
eventually, the banging died down which most likely meant he was at his breaking point. either that or he had left you by now. you quickly grabbed your piece of toast and a plain piece of bread for isagi incase he was still there and headed for the door.
as you opened the door you were met with a murderous glare from your friend in which you gave an apologetic smile. this was about the 100th time you had been in this exact situation.
“sorry about the wait. bread?” you offered holding out the single slice of bread in your hand.
isagi scoffed and rolled his eyes, turned on his heel and walked away. it was clear he was furious. all you could do was trail behind and keep quiet, in hopes of not provoking him any further.
——————————
when the two of you arrived at school, it was 9:04. the whole walk there had been silent so you thought isagi would at least give you a ‘bye’ or ‘see you later’ as you parted ways to head to class like he usually does.
this time around though, he just stormed off.
it’s not like it was your first time making him late, so why was he so pissed this time? it was starting to scare you as isagi was a whole different man when he’d lost his temper.
oh well, i’ll give him a proper apology later
you sighed before making your way to your classroom, isagi’s uneaten bread flopping in your hand.
i can snack on this in class later
you thought to yourself smiling down at the slice. unbeknownst to you, you were turning the corner the end of the corridor and someone else just happened to be turning the corner the exact same time.
you bumped hard into this said person and your bread slice dropped on the floor. looking down at it, mouth slightly agape, you glared and looked back up to give this person a piece of your mind.
“well excuse me-” you were cut off when your eyes locked with his. his cerulean eyes bored into yours leaving you speechless. they were by far the prettiest eyes you had ever seen.
you went on to study his features. messy reddish-brown hair, sharp jawline, long lower lashes and a stoic expression displayed.
this guy is drop-dead gorgeous! how did i not notice someone so handsome going to this school earlier? is he new?
you gulped nervously as your eyes drifting back to his piercing ones. the both of you stared at each other, you tried hard not to blink not wanting to miss a single moment.
unfortunately though, after what seemed like eternity, he finally broke the eye contact as his eyes wandered to the bread slice on the floor. surely you weren’t going to eat that anymore.
he looked back at you one last time before coldly brushing past your shoulder and heading off, probably to his classroom.
you stood there stupidly. luckily no one else was around to see your flustered face. once you got back to your senses, you rushed to your classroom head hung low in embarrassment.
who was this guy to have got you’re heart racing by just a simple gaze? how dare he had your head feeling dizzy by doing the bare fucking minimum. it just wasn’t fair. god just looking at him had you mesmerised. there was no doubt about it:
you had fallen in love.
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SUMMARY: in which 2nd-year y/n l/n one day turns up at their high school and falls head over heels with a certain 3rd-year, one who has a strict ‘no-dating’ policy.
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miloformula123fan · 4 months
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hi! can i request a combination of 23 and 59 with oscar??
Hi!!! I honestly loved writing this, although I apologise for the small cliffhanger I left it on.
Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.
also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better
Oscar Piastri x Reader: (CW: f1 crash (non descriptive), angst, fight)
One day you’re gonna need me and i’m not gonna be there to fix it
Keep fighting, i can’t lose you.
---
“Oscar!” Y/N called from the bedroom. “Can you come here a minute?”
“Sure, darling, what’s wrong?” Oscar walked into his bedroom that he shared with his partner, smiling when he saw them on their phone in their bed.
“I saw Alpine’s announcement. Congrats! Can’t believe I’ve signed so many NDAs and you still couldn’t tell me!” Y/N looked up with their excitement evident. Working as an Alpine race engineer meant that they couldn’t wait to eventually be talking to their boyfriend over the radio.
“What? What did Alpine announce?” Oscar looks so confused. Yes he is the reserve driver for Alpine, but he hasn’t extended anything with Alpine, unless it was a sponsor announcement, but he didn’t think he’d announced any of those either.
“Oscar…what… Alpine announced that you’re driving for them to replace Alonso. I’m going to be your race engineer! What…why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N’s smile started to fade, their confusion evident. They could see that Oscar wasn’t comprehending what they were saying.
“Because… I’m not driving for Alpine next year. I’m driving for McLaren.” Oscar looked at his partner in confusion. What was Otmar on? Yes there had been some contract negotiations and honestly Oscar and Mark hadn’t been able to find any fault in the contract. It was just that what McLaren had offered was a lot better. And their data looked better.
“But…both Daniel and Lando have contracts for next year and Alpine just announced the damn thing. What do you mean you’re leaving me for McLaren?” Y/N’s face looked like they were about to cry
“I haven’t signed any contract with Alpine… I- I need to talk to Mark, I need to sort this out.” Oscar pulls his phone out of the charger and sees that he’s already had about 10 missed calls from Mark - considering it’s about 5am where he is, this is a slight surprise. Although maybe not, considering how big of a fuck up this is. Then Y/N’s last words dawned on him.
“I-I’m not leaving you for McLaren. You’ll always be my girlfriend, regardless of what team I’m driving for.” Oscar started panicking as he saw tears starting to fall down Y/N’s face as they furiously tried to rub them away. They then got up from the bed and started repacking their suitcase, not too hard considering they’d only arrived here last night.
“Really? How am I meant to make sure you’re safe when you’re driving for another team? Oscar, listen to me, one day you’re gonna need me and i’m not going to be there to fix it.” Y/N finished zipping up their bag and looked at Oscar. Both of them had tears streaming down their faces that they looked at each other before Y/N kissed Oscar softly on the lips and walked out.
Y/N saw the crash from the pitwall, but didn’t fully register what had happened until halfway through her message to Gasly ‘Box, box Pierre, red flag, it’s Oscar… sorry, it’s Oscar off.’
“Is he okay?” She could hear Pierre’s worry through his voice.
“No response yet, the team is working on it and the marshalls are working on getting him out, but his vitals appear okay, likely just unconscious from the crash.”
“Okay, copy, box box.” Similarly she could hear his resignation and determination as he came into the pitlane.
Y/N just sat there, listening to the rain pattering on the roof of the pitwall, feeling the tears fall down her face rapidly and her breaths becoming shallower. She could feel some people giving her a little comfort and rubbing her shoulders, nearly everyone had known about their relationship last year and nearly everyone knew how it had ended mid last year due to the chaos of Oscar’s contract woes.
Pierre came up and comforted her, but she refused to take her headphones off until she heard through the radio that the race had been abandoned to unsafe conditions, as it should’ve been hours ago.
When Y/N heard this she ran from the pit wall towards the medical centre. Everyone got out of her way, the exception being Mark, who had clearly been waiting outside the garage for her appearance, who also sprinted through the paddock with her to the medical centre, where a quick check of IDs had granted them access to Oscar’s room, where he had been left and they had been told to call a doctor or nurse should he wake up. Y/N pulled up the plastic chairs and sat next to Oscar’s bedside, as Mark excused himself to grab them both some coffee. She looked at Oscar and whispered, half choking on her words, voice cracking ‘Keep fighting, please Osc, I can’t lose you.’
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harrisonarchive · 4 months
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Scan - George in Liverpool, late 1950s:
“A young George Harrison with his Tony Curtis haircut, bright fluorescent green wasitcoat (under the towel), and skintight jeans. He’s carrying flippers, so he must be off to the swimming pool or the sea. This would be around 1958 or ‘59, when George, Paul, and John were in the Quarrymen skiffle group. I though I’d taken this photograph, but Paul rang up to complain, ‘Hey you bugger lugs! I took that one!’” - Mike McCartney, Remember: The Recollections and Photographs of Michael McCartney (1992) “When we lived in 12 Ardwick Road I vaguely remember a lad who lived in Upton Green, a couple of roads away from us. The next time I saw the same lad was in and around the ‘Inny,’ but as he was a year ahead of me, he was immediately classified as one of the ‘big lads’ and therefore unapproachable. He was obviously one of those working class rebel chaps and toward the end of our school days together he got more and more outrageous. The compulsory school uniform was outvoted by his extrovert dress sense and his hair was the longest anyone could possibly get away with in the Inny, all ‘Tony Curtis’d back,’ with a school cap perched on the top rear like a rabbi’s skull cap. When his guitar playing affinity with Paul was established in the end of term skewl koncerts, he’d visit our new Forthlin home […]. His dress by this time was even more interesting… full length, skin-tight drainies down to his bright fluorescent socks, even brighter lime (Upton) green waistcoat under his blazer which he would flash at me in the school corridors (followed by a wink). He had the first blue suede, winkle picker shoes which together with incessant chewing of gum all became his trade marks. My Sweet Lord knows who he was, but his Mum must have loved him.” - Mike McCartney (writing about “George Handsome”), Thank U Very Much: Mike McCartney’s Family Album (1981) (x)
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erin-bo-berin · 1 year
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I got a prompt for you! Steve rushing home to kiss reader at midnight because he’s never missed a kiss on new years since they been together.
Okay but imagine that Family Video is open late that night for any party goers which doesn’t make sense to Robin and Steve but Keith’s the boss so what can they do?
Steve is freaking out because they have to stay until close and he wants to be with you at midnight. Robin is wondering why he’s all antsy and he finally explains in the three years (and almost four New Years Eves you’ve celebrated together) he hasn’t missed one with you. He wants to be by your side and kiss you from the old year into the new one. The minute between 11:59 and 12:00 his world is nothing but you as he kisses you and says goodbye to another year of wonderful memories with you and hello to a fresh year to have even more special moments with.
But, this year, he’s stuck at Family Video and he’s desperate to get home to you. Missing ringing in the New Year with you is just not an option for him.
Robin, being the angel she is, also a hopeless romantic, agrees to stay until closing. Of course Steve does owe her a favor in the New Year, but he’s her best friend and she wants him to be with the love of his life at the stroke of midnight. She also promises Keith won’t hear a word about it.
So Steve rushes across town, probably running every red light he encounters as the minutes pass by quicker than he’d like.
The time on his dashboard reads 11:57 pm by the time he pulls into the driveway.
He runs in, finding you on the couch, watching tv and you startle at his sudden entrance.
“Steve, what are you—” you begin to ask, but he cuts you off.
“I wasn’t going to miss ringing in the New Year with you.”
He’s breathless from his sprint and not even completely sure if it’s already midnight, but he grabs you and kisses you like it’s the first time he’s ever kissed you. Distantly, he hears the countdown on the tv, but he keeps on kissing you as together you start the new year in the perfect way—together.
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