#This was written at 2am

[swugflower]

Brucie Wayne gets interviewed and the question who, expect Batman, is his favorite Gotham hero.

After some awkward moments of silence, he blurts out that it’s Spoiler. Since she is the only one from the main active team that isn’t his kid and this way he avoids picking a favorite.

Meanwhile, the group chats explodes into chaos instantly.

[pprodsuga]

i’m serious about you

summary: gojo realizes just how much he likes you when you go on your first date

note: feeling a bit soft for gojo rn so pls enjoy this little scenario…it’s 2am and i just wanna write something before i go to bed <3 gojo is probably a little ooc but this is my blog so!!!

i’m a lil rusty when ur comes to writing fics but i hope u enjoy!

warnings: fluff fluff fluff + she/her pronouns

masterlist :)

“I’m surprised this place is open so late.”

You mutter absentmindedly as you look at the pastries behind the glass, face at a respectable distance while Gojo stands beside you. He leans down to see what you see, his own eye catching the chocolate cake sitting on the top shelf.

“Nanami told me about it a while ago,” he explains. “Says he likes to come here when he can’t sleep since they’re open so late.”

“Do you like this bakery?”

Gojo watches as you pick and choose which pastries you want to try. The girl behind the counter lifts her gaze to him, eyes widening before averting her gaze to the small box in her hands.

“Haven’t tried it, actually,” Gojo says. He rubs the back of his neck when you turn around. “I, uh, wanted to wait. To try it with you, I mean.”

He sees your mouth morph into a shy smile and he can’t help but return it. Gojo turns and orders a beverage from the cashier, watching as her fingers fumble with the buttons before she relays the bill.

You’re about to pull out your wallet when Gojo reacts quicker than you can comprehend. You watch as he gives his credit card to the cashier without batting an eyelash. He laughs when you huff and grumble about being able to pay for the pastries since he paid for dinner, but he bumps his hips with yours and tells you it‘s on him.

You look so perfect under the awful fluorescent lights in your best dress and hair let down. He’s not used to seeing you like this; so carefree without your worries tucked away in that pretty little head of yours.

Gojo used to think he’d make it through life without relying on anyone and that he couldn’t count on other people for his own source of happiness and companionship. But he can’t deny there’s something about you that tugs at his heart strings a bit too aggressively.

This feeling follows him to the morning prior, when he asked you to accompany him to dinner. Gojo had guessed that you liked him more than you let on but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the same. This new sensation in the pit of his stomach travels with him tonight, especially when he takes a step back to fully absorb the way you look in his jacket. It dwarfs your shorter stature yet Gojo thinks it was made for you to wear.

The girl behind the counter turns around to finish the order, leaving the two of you to your wits for the time being. Gojo senses that this—casual dating or otherwise—isn’t something you do often. He silently thanks Shoko for drilling him about you (likes, dislikes, who you are as a person aside from the so-called friend group you two belong in) because he sees your finger tapping against the side of your leg and decides to make a move.

“I really like spending time with you,” Gojo starts. “I could do this again and again if you let me.”

“Really?” you ask, sounding something akin to disbelief. Your dress follows your movements as you turn around but all Gojo can focus on is the way your cheeks begin to blush. How cute.

He takes a step forward, nodding. “Believe it or not, I really enjoy spending all of my money on cute girls.”

“Is that so?“ you ask with an uptick in your voice. “Wonder if I’m the cutest, then.”

Gojo knows you’re joking by the way you’re smiling at him, but he wants to set the record straight.

“You are,” he says, “because you’re the only one.”

A soft sound distracts the two of you and he looks past your shoulder to see the cashier has set his beverage on the counter. Gojo thanks her and grabs the cup when he notices notices she’s written her phone number on the back of the surface. His stomach drops when he sees your eyes linger on the penmanship.

He panics.

“I must be special.”

Your voice lacks the humor from moments prior, eyes glazing over the written numbers while Gojo pathetically stands like he’s a frozen statue. He doesn’t know why he cares what you think of him nor why he wants to disprove the theory that he can’t settle down because of an innate need to flirt with everything that breathes. He watches you swallow and avert your gaze to the exit sign when he nods furiously.

“Yeah, you are.”

Gojo throws the beverage in the trash can beside him and cups your jaw in both of his hands to pull you into a tender kiss in the middle of a poorly lit bakery with two other patrons. He thinks your lips taste like coconut and sugar, so soft that he could keep his mouth on you forever and never complain.

He must be doing something right because you’re kissing him back.

You pull away first and he laughs at your flustered state, leaning in to press another quick kiss to your lips before you can escape him. He pays no mind to the girl who walks into the back room.

“I’ll spend however long it takes to make you understand that I’m serious about you,” Gojo promises.

“You better send Nanami a thank you card.” You grab the box of pastries. “Taking me here was a good start.”

Yeah, he thinks. She’s the one.

[crybaby-bkg]

Bakugou who is clingier than he’d like to admit. Not because he’s insecure or doesn’t trust you or whatever bullshit some might think, no. He just loves your presence, your aura, the sweetness that always surrounds you. It’s always just a reminder for him to chill out, to be vulnerable, to love you open and honestly.

Pouts a little when he asks you to go somewhere with him, but you tell him you can’t right now, you’re busy. He’s grumbling under his breath the whole time, and returns sooner than he usually would.

But the moments where you do follow him—he loves it. Convinces you to join him in you guys’ home gym, and just loves it when you’re there beside him. You guys don’t even have to talk half the time, he just wants to be near you. Sometimes you’re corny and kiss him every time he does a sit up or push up, but a lot of the times, you just sit there quietly beside him. Pull out a blanket and book, lay on the floor next to him while he does his reps, sit on the bench beside him and blast your music. He feels more at peace during those moments.

Or, he wants to cook you something (because that’s his very own love language). He sets you on the counter beside him, talking to himself and to you occasionally. You bump him with your toes and he bites at your hands when they reach for the still hot food. He feeds you a little once it cools down, but after that, he goes back to cooking. Only this time, he presses his side as much as he can to your legs, kissing you when too much time passes by.

also!!! when he comes home after a long day and wants to shower. He doesn’t necessarily need you to do anything for him, besides provide the comfort you always do with just your presence. You talk to him quietly about your day, doing your skincare routine when he brushes his teeth after he gets out.

He just really loves being near you, even if it’s spent mostly in silence, because you’re the only thing he needs in order to function.

[ya-rr-ow]

People who say Akane is “abusive” to Aoi because of this panel and then ship Terukane are so hypocritical.

First of all, Aoi was literally trying to kill herself.

How are people not seeing this? He wasn’t trying to hurt her he was trying to get her attention and convince her not to sacrifice herself. If this was real life should he have grabbed her? No. But in terms of “abuse” this is far from the worst in tbhk. Hanako forces Yashiro to clean the bathrooms, has tried to look under her skirt, and also tried to trap her in a fake world? And you think Aoikane is the most toxic ship?

Not saying you can’t ship Hananene but if you call that a healthy relationship and then hate on Aoikane you’re being so hypocritical. Yes the characters aren’t perfect and there are problems on both Akane’s and Aoi’s side, but it’s a fictional manga of course there are some problems. Also it is no problem is you simply don’t like the ship, but saying that people who do like it support abuse is just??? So wrong??? Also people often mischaracterize Terukane as this relationship where Akane is everything to Teru and Teru would die to save Akane, but that is Teru’s relationship with his siblings NOT Akane. He has literally attacked Akane for not telling him what books he reads?

HE ALSO REGULARLY TIES HIM UP???

And don’t get me wrong I love Terukane but saying that it’s “healthier than Aoikane” is far from the truth and is referring to their fanon relationship and not canon.

ALSO DISCLAIMER THIS IS NOT MEANT TO ATTACK ANYONE THIS IS JUST MY OPINION!!

[like-the-rest-of-la]

Happy Little Accidents

The last thing Eddie Diaz expects to come out of his trip to Buckley’s Plant Nursery & Landscaping with his son, is to develop an honest to god schoolgirl crush on the guy who owns the place (and not notice that that is what’s happening for an embarrassingly long time).  

The plan is simple. Get in, have Christopher pick out a couple of succulents or whatever he needs for his school project, and get out without infesting any of the gorgeous plants in the shop with his bad plant karma. 

But then, the first thing he’s greeted with is a hunk of a man, carrying two heavy packs of soil on his broad shoulders. Eddie swears he can see a drop of sweat running down the man’s face in slow motion. His t-shirt looks like it’s one strategic muscle flex away from bursting at the seams and Eddie—Eddie feels nervous all of the sudden. And he’s gaping like a fish. 

“Hey,” Hunk-man says as he hoists the soil on the counter next to him with a grunt, “What can I help you with?”

At least Eddie has enough self-awareness to close his mouth.

Or: the one where Buck owns a plant nursery and Eddie stumbles through his crush (and has no game during all of it)—oh and also, there are a lot of Bob Ross references.

Read on Ao3

(With a banner by the wonderful @theladyyavilee thank you so so so much <3)

[crowhunterzz]

i know it’s been said on here plenty of times but i genuinely get so upset when i see people continuously perpetuate the whole “Gehrman’s a creep and the Doll is a sex object theory” when there’s an actually direct in-game evidence showing that none of that is true. and yk what despite the posts abt this that already exist i am, in fact, gonna make one of my own.

Okay so first off, The Voiceline. You know the one.

Yeah this line got interpreted by a portion of the fandom as weird, especially because of the tone it’s said in. However, there are two pieces of context that immediately show what he meant by this.

The first, is that you DO use the Doll. She provides a service for you by taking your blood echoes and turning them into your strength (the level up system).

Aside from this, the ability to talk to her, and the option of giving her an item, there is nothing else you can do with her, and nothing else the game even implies you can do with her. She does not even have any truly “romantic” dialogue. She mentions that she loves you, but that she does because she was created to do so.

She loves all the hunters because her purpose is to care for them, and in her words, embolden their sickly spirits.

The second piece of context is in Gehrman’s dialogue just before he says the line about the Doll.

He is telling you that anything you find in the workshop is a tool you can use to strengthen yourself and make the hunt easier. He is referring to the Doll as a tool, because she is one of the few the workshop has not lost. He’s not sexualizing her, he’s talking about her like she is a tool, and something to be used, not seen as a person.

Is it a good thing? No, but considering he resents her for not being what he created her to be (or by another interpretation, coming to life when he never intended her to), it’s not unreasonable to assume that over time he would just categorize her as a thing instead of a person.

The second piece of evidence towards this god awful theory is the Doll’s white blood. Honestly I cannot believe people genuinely take this as being semen, because not only is there a canon reason for creatures to have pale blood, but also it’s just disgusting.

You need a minimum of one insight to see the Doll during the game, she was given life by the Moon Presence following Gehrman’s placement in the Hunter’s Dream, and she bleeds pale blood. She’s kin. (Yes I am aware the game does not consider her kin in regards to whether or not she can be dealt damage based gems that alter your attacks vs kin, but you’re not supposed to be fighting her anyway, and it’s not like you need a bonus to kill her in the first place).

And finally, to address the other big point, the item descriptions that appear on Maria’s Hunter Garb and the Doll’s Set.

I would like to address first, the obvious, that Maria’s garb says directly she was “unaware of his curious mania” (however you interpret that), but the point is she was unaware, he clearly in life, never made advances on her (which is something I’ve seen a few people state is ‘implied’???).

The second, and this one is a bit in the subtext, is that the Doll seems to not have any idea that Gehrman ever had any positive feelings towards her at all, she expresses a love for the hunter in a way that reflects someone who was never shown love in any capacity (likely due to the circumstances surrounding her achieving sentience), so its reasonable to assume as well that she was entirely unaware of the ‘curious mania’ as well.

Additionally I would point out that while referencing Gehrman’s mania once more, the Doll’s description also directly states that she was once loved and cared for, something that changed after she gained sentience. She likely served as a memorial for Maria, considering there is no canon evidence Maria herself actually has a grave.

The grave that provides the Old Hunter Bone may be hers, but the item description refers to the hunter it came from as “he.” This could be due to it being placed there prior to the decision to give Maria the quickening skill in her boss fight, or it could be that Maria did not have a proper grave for whatever reason, and thus the Doll was needed, which could then relate the obsession to an obsession with Gehrman keeping a memory of her, as there is nothing else he seems to have of her.

Everything here aside I would like to also point out that the Doll is quite literally, a doll. There is nothing that would even suggest she would be capable of any sort of sexual relationship.

Especially because even before the Dream, the Doll did have a specific purpose. She seems to be modeled after Victorian mourning dolls, which were items used to help families/loved ones process grief, typically of children, by having something to remind them of the deceased that did not itself look deceased. If you consider the grave in the Abandoned Old Workshop to be Maria’s and know that that’s also where the Doll is in the waking world, then that’s probably what she’s for. Or as stated before, the grave may NOT be hers, and the Doll itself IS her grave.

Another thing I didn’t point out but will, for a moment get into, is the Doll’s clothing being feminized. A lot of people take this as Gehrman being a misogynist and sexualizing her in a more feminine way as if he himself was not training Maria (and likely other women) to be hunters during his life. He encouraged the less feminine life she lived as a hunter!

That point always confuses me, especially knowing that one of the last things Maria likely said to Gehrman was what she said after the massacre at the Fishing Hamlet where she threw away her weapon and renounced the hunt, choosing to retire (and potentially become a caretaker for the Church’s patients, judging by her role in the Hunter’s Nightmare). Like OF COURSE he dressed her like that, she expressed that she no longer wanted to be a hunter so he made her the opposite. The only reason she is dressed the way she is in the Hunter’s Nightmare is because that is how Kos is depicting her, not because it’s her conscious choice.

The point of this is, Gehrman is one of my all time favorite characters alongside Maria and the Doll, and while yes, I am well aware he isn’t perfect, it’s still frustrating to see him get so mischaracterized by a fandom who insists they love lore so much, and care about the tiny details. You can dislike Gehrman or think he does shitty things and that’s fine, but creating a story where he’s a creep just to prove you care about Maria and the Doll is weird. And it’s weirdER that people argue IN FAVOR of the theory as if it MUST be true, because honestly why would anyone even want it to be???

This post also was specifically done without consideration for whatever type of relationship Gehrman and Maria had according to canon or any interpretations. Essentially I’m not necessarily saying any of this has anything to do with whether or not you ship them, I personally don’t, but I know some people do, and I feel like on either side you can still be critical of this Doll theory, as it is entirely baseless.

(In case anyone is interested, the images and references used for this were from the Bloodborne wiki, specifically this one.)

[amvro]

pairing: amuro tooru x reader

summary: he is home late (again) but you love to stay up for him

cw: i would not say suggestive but a lot of kissing implied ? IDK IM SORRY, it’s very short

It wasn’t rare for you to be staying up waiting for him to come home, but tonight he was especially late coming home and he truly did not expect you to still be up. The clock almost ticked 3:30am and he truly wished he didn’t have to stay out so late if he knew you would still be up. He was going to ask why you were still up and tell you about how you should’ve just slept without him, but he knew you would tell him you would be too worried to fall asleep regardless. 

“I’m so sorry I was so late,” he said, apologetically. “But really, next time you shouldn’t mind me. It’s far too late.”

“And it’s far too late for you to be out with no one to greet you when you come home,” you replied with a soft smile. Gosh he was in love with you. “Waiting for you to come home is one of my happiest times, at least let me do this much. Besides, it’s a Friday we get to sleep in tomorrow.”

And you were absolutely correct. Although he’d tell you every single time to go ahead and sleep, it still warmed his heart when he saw you reading a book or scrolling through your phone with a warm tea, waiting for him to come home. The way your face would brighten up when he came home was truly the only thing that could heal him from a long day at work.

“I’ll hop in the shower real quick, so go to sleep okay? It’s still not good to be up this late,” he said as he took off his coat and put his stuff down, getting ready to step into the bathroom.

“Wait,” you said, almost subconsciously.

“What is it, love?”

“Oh, um,” you said, you hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You looked up at him slightly embarrassed. “....kiss?”

A faint blush covered his face as his eyes narrowed and lips pursed. He did not understand how you managed to make his heart flutter from such simple words after all this time, but he did understand that this wasn’t going to go away. He walked right back to you and pressed a kiss on your lips. He was going to kiss you again when he resisted the temptation and kissed you on your forehead instead. 

“Why not?” you asked quietly. You were going to kill him if you kept this up.

“Because I’m not going to be able to stop at this rate,” he said, but you went and kissed him instead.

“But I don’t want you to...” you said. That was it, he was giving in. Saving the country was a whole lot easier of a challenge than the ones you gave him it seemed.

“Okay, now you’ve done it,” he said, kissing you again. 

The shower will have to wait a little. 

[estrellami-1]

Writer prompt: “When will I get people who care the way I care?” Steve + the party hurt/comfort

Lmaooooo not you turning my own words on me (thank you I probably needed to write this ngl)

Steve made a point to remember the kids’ birthdays. To know their favorite foods, their allergies, to have their favorite tapes in his car.

And it’s not like it’s serious. Steve wouldn’t die from it. Probably.

It’s just… well. He told them he was allergic to shellfish. He remembered the day, especially, because they’d all had a long discussion about what was actually classified as shellfish.

But now someone decided to bring a clambake up to Bumfuck, Indiana, right where Steve lived, and all the kids are so excited about it, and he’s excited for them, honest.

But they don’t understand when he declines the offer to go, their request to drive them. Slowly but surely, he realizes they forgot.

Maybe he should’ve expected that. Maybe he should’ve known the expectations are different on the babysitter versus the babysat. Maybe-

“Alright,” Eddie says suddenly, one loud clap getting everyone’s attention. “Everyone out! Something’s come up. Great to see you, same time next week, untold horrors, et cerera. Get the fuck outta here.”

Eddie turns to Steve once everyone’s gone. “What’s wrong?”

Steve blinks. “What?”

“You’re making a face like something’s wrong.”

“Oh.” Steve debates not telling him, except that’s never done him any favors before, and he doubts it’ll start now. “Um. Just. Y’know the clambake?”

Eddie chuckles. “It’s practically all the kids talk about.”

“Yeah. Um. They didn’t understand why I didn’t want to go. Or why I didn’t want to take them.”

“Okay,” Eddie says slowly. “I’m all for telling the little shits no once in a while, don’t get me wrong. But… why did you tell them no?”

“I’m allergic to shellfish.”

Eddie’s mouth opens in an o. “Do they know?”

“Yeah. Or they did, I dunno. I guess they forgot. And I just… I dunno. Got in my head about it, I guess, because I remember things that are important to them, y’know? I have their tapes in my car, I know their favorite foods, I know what they’re allergic to. I know what to do to help all of them through a nightmare or a panic attack. And I spend so much of my time giving, and being what they need me to be, and… I guess it gets tiring, sometimes.” He shrugs, looks down. “I’m just wondering when I’m gonna get people who care the way I care. Who remember the little things, maybe not even cause they’re important, but because they’re part of me, y’know?”

Eddie smiles sadly, sits next to him. Turns his body to face Steve’s. “You mean like the face you make when you’re cooking and your sauce needs more salt? Or the way you dance a little, wiggle your hips, when you’ve got music playing and you’re doing the dishes? Or the way you clench your fists when you think no one’s looking, when you’re trying not to fidget or reach out and touch?” He touches one of Steve’s hands, clenched in his lap. “You can.”

Steve sighs, releases his hands. Turns one over and capture’s Eddie’s. “And the important thing,” Eddie continues. “The way you keep the pool lights turned off when the kids aren’t over. The way you hate to cook for just yourself. You ever wonder why I invite myself over so much? ‘S because I know you wouldn’t eat otherwise. The kids are assholes, I’ll give you that. They’re also kids. Let them grow up some, keep showing them the love that you are, and trust that one day they’ll show it back. Until then, can I be enough for you?”

“Eddie,” Steve whispers, chokes. “You’re always enough. More than.”

Eddie moves in closer. “Let yourself take,” he whispers back, slotting an arm over Steve’s shoulders and pulling him in. “Trust that I’m giving. That I want you to have it.”

Steve leans in. Doesn’t say thank you. Doesn’t kiss him. He doesn’t have to. He’s taking, accepting. And that says everything.

[possessed-pack]

Terrorpunk: Embracing the Horror Within.

For all those with identities that put others on edge. People with parts of them commonly used as horror tropes, people who act "unnatural" and put others off, people with stigmatized "scary" disorders and disabilities, people who have horror and fear intertwined with alterhuman identities, queer identities or anything else that people generally find off-putting or downright terrifying--but in spite of that, don't see any of it as a bad thing, and reclaim the horror that others see in you. This is for you--for the monsters and the freaks and the eldritch abominations.

This is about reclaiming the stigma placed upon you. Maybe you are scary to them, but maybe you don't care so much about how they react? Maybe you keep being your authentic fear-inducing self out of spite. Maybe you like being a little scary because it's become intrinsic to who you are. Being open about yourself and unapologetically doing so shouldn't be a fear inflicting thing, but if it's going to be that way, you're not going to change for them. You're you, let them be scared. It's not on you to become palatable. It's not on you to hide parts of yourself away. Maybe it's on them to not see anything unknown or new as terrifying. You see the horror within yourself as nothing bad, and you openly embrace who you are and who others with differing experiences from "the norm" are too.

You don't need to be anything in particular to use the label, this isn't a term to be gatekept. Terrorpunk is reclaiming the terror that others or even yourself might think of about any part of you. That's what it's about, being unapologetically you and scary by doing so, because if people see you as someone that fills them with terror, then maybe that's fine by you. You won't change for them.

Keep in mind that this is not a term to use to cause or justify harm, exclude others or further any stigma. No one by any means has to reclaim being feared, or being something that scares people. There's some of us that find power in it though, to take the stones they throw, pick them up and ask them what they have left to throw at us.

Those who exclude others on the basis of identity (transphobes, homophobes, TERFs, ableists, racists, anti-alterhumans, aphobes and anyone else who excludes those who act on good faith) aren't included under this term. Terrorpunk isn't a basis for your hate or actions to harm marginalised groups or anyone similar. It's not an excuse to harm people in general. It's simply about being you, and if being that is scary, then so be it.

[the-ace-with-spades]

I have the urge to write a seven-season-long medical drama, so here is a concept for Top Gun Hospital AU with ER hate-to-love hangster AU that no one asked for.

as a warning: this is a bit incohesive and silly

All the aviators are doctors and all the WSOs are nurses. With the exception of Bradley (but there’s an explanation for it).

Mav — cardiothoracic surgeon; Ice — former neurosurgeon and Chief of Surgery, current Head of Patient and Medical Services (so, entirely admin). I imagine they have the same kind of relationship as House and Cuddy in this, including Ice keeping an entire legal team for Mav’s unconventional practice methods. They've met during med school and had been rivals up until they both finished general surgery residency. Slider is an OR nurse turned anesthesia nurse. Goose was an ER nurse and met Mav during his rotation as a med student and died after an incident in the ER during Mav’s residency (that was the moment he switched from emergency medicine to surgery).

Phoenix — emergency, but she managed the impossible (like Mav) and switched from obgyn residency after the first year (only chose obgyn in the first place because of her mom, a renowned obgyn in Oregon), she's still really passionate about the obgyn field but didn't enjoy the work enough to do it for the rest of her life; Javy — general surgery; Payback — emergency with sub-spec in pediatrics; Friz — respiratory medicine; Omaha — oncology; Yale — ortho surgery.

Bob — a former OBGYN nurse, left because of a toxic work environment, working in the ER six months now, Phoenix's favorite nurse now, duh; Fanboy — started in peds oncology, had to switch because it was too hard on him mentally and is now peds emergency; Halo — started as a palliative care nurse, switched to oncology after a few years; Harvard — OR nurse, switched from general team to ortho

Hangman is the new trauma surgeon starting in their ER. Born and raised on a ranch, was expected to take over the ranch but never wanted to. Thankfully, he had too perfect grades to not send him to college — his parents wanted him to be a vet, which obviously didn’t happen, so he could stay close to the family business. He moved to California for his MD. He has terrible bedside manners with patients and patients’ family, but is surprisingly decent with kids, has lost respect for nurses sometime during his first residency year, and had a terrible case of Ego hit him during his trauma surg fellowship.

Now, about Rooster:

Bradley got into a pre-med program, Mav (who had set up Bradley’s college fund) said he’s not going to pay for it since he doesn’t want Bradley to be a doctor (long hours, lack of work-life balance, burnout, high stress, etc. It was more complicated because Mav still has the Goose trauma). So they had the fallout, Bradley moved out and deferred college to find a way to pay for it and, wanting to gather hospital experience, started working as a CNA in Peds ICU at a children’s hospital which accidentally was having a new CNA intake at the time. He liked it, actually loved it, and started hesitating whether he should continue with pre-med and be like Mav or go for nursing, like his dad. Year after, he got an offer from the hospital that said hey, we’ll fund some of your BSN as long as you work for us while you study and then work for us for another four years after getting your license. So he became a nurse, got certified as peds nurse after working two years in PICU and after another three, switched to the Pediatric Rapid Response Team, where he stayed for another two years before getting a spot as a senior nurse in adult/peds ER in a different hospital.

His relation to Mav and Ice only came to light a few months after the hiring process, as Bradley didn’t even know they worked there when he applied and it’s still a hash-hash topic in the ER. He’s been in the ER for almost three years now and has become an unofficial second-in-command as one of the few with substantial experience.

I imagine he’s definitely one the best nurses you could have as a patient — he’s honest but in an empathetic way, he’s worked in the most demanding environments with the most complex patients (ICU and RRT), he’s skilled and experienced in most procedures. Because he is one of the few male nurses, he’s the one dealing with inappropriate patients, aggressive patients, patients that need restraint, frequent flyers, etc. and he genuinely doesn’t mind — he is the perfect mix of calm and firm that makes him very reliable in most difficult situations. He is absolutely most reassuring and guiding with new stuff, be it new nurses or med students that don’t know what’s happening, and he doesn’t judge. It does help, too, that he was partially raised by two very cocksure surgeons and therefore knows how to deal with doctors that turned a bit too arrogant.

Before I go to the hangster part of this shit, I want y’all to know it all started because I found this Rooster-coded scrubs:

I imagine that he buys most of his scrubs since the work-issued scrubs don’t fit well on men (most unisex ones are very much just female fit stamped with unisex label) and peds nurses can have lots of cute ones so the kids feel less nervous around them

Also, this is a warning that yes, Bradley is trans in this scenario, too, because I said so. It's relevant to a few scenes, I think?? and there's tw for transphobic OC

Now, a bunch of scenarios I can see for this AU:

On the first day at his new workplace, Jake makes a reputation for himself. He confuses Nat, in her hospital-issued scrubs and with her doctor tag clearly on display, for a nurse and literally talks over her in front of a patient. Same thing happens with Billy because he’s Filipino and there is a large number of Filipino nurses everywhere and he’s stereotyping. Then he makes another patient’s parents agitated. This is when he meets Bradley — he takes over to talk to the parents and calm them down before it can escalate, basically shushing Jake out of the room. Jake doesn’t clock he’s a nurse at first — he’s a big, very fit, very well-built, very handsome dude with a questionable mustache who looks comical in a pastel pink scrub top with a teddy bear pattern and a matching headband on his forehead, but also the sheer shock of how different to all the nurses he looks gives Jake a pause  — so he doesn’t say anything even if it pisses him off a nurse just forced him out of the room.

*

It starts innocently with Bradley though — Bradley comes up and asks, “Jake, can you put the narcotics order into the system for Lily?” and Jake scoffs and corrects, “Doctor,” tapping his full tag with Dr. Jacob Seresin.

Bradley, as the nurse’s tag says, raises an eyebrow and says, “Doctor Jake, can you put the narcotics order for Lily?”  Natasha, standing behind him, snorts. Jake doesn’t even have the time to tell him off because he’s already gone when his brain processes.

*

Natasha drops off a patient on him — a taxi driver who had a stroke while driving and had been in a car accident, that had been thrombolysed but might need emergency surgery because of a suspected GI bleed. He’s stable, so they're going to check if he can be admitted to neurosurg and wait for his turn there or if Jake will need to take over before that.

Bradley hands him a tablet the minute he walks into the room.

“What’s that?”

“Results,” he supplies before going back to setting up an oxygen cylinder at the bottom of the bed.

“I didn’t order that,” he notes. The blood and urine panels are what he would order with suspected operable GI bleed but he’s barely looked at the patient’s case before he walked in there.

“I did,” Bradley tells him as he switches the oxygen from the wall socket to the tank supply. “Faster this way.”

“No,” Jake says, blood boiling. “You do exactly what I tell you to do and only that.”

Natasha raises her eyebrows, high on her forehead. Bradley doesn’t hesitate — waves on Bob from behind the glass wall and they both grab each side of the bed.

“I supposed you want to put the CT order yourself then,” Bradley says as Bob takes the small back monitor and attaches it to the frame. He steps on the bed brake and rolls out the bed, straight into Jake and Nat, fast enough that he moves out of the way on instinct. “Better do it fast because it’s free now and I’m going.” *

“Did you see that? Who the heck does he think he is?” Jake asks Nat.

“Better put that CT scan order,” is all Natasha replies as she walks away.

*

It’s Reuben’s patient, an eleven years old boy with blunt trauma, and Jake makes a verbal order to Bradshaw, who is the boy’s nurse. “I understand but I think that—” and Jake goes, “If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

The whole room gets quiet and everyone looks to him — Reuben, Mickey, and the technician are wide-eyed.

Bradley just says, “Alright,” in a perfectly leveled voice and leaves the room.

 Mickey is not making eye contact as he quips under his nose, on his way out of the room, “You do realize he basically runs this ER, right? You’re making your life a lot harder.”

*

Jake orders IV fluids for one of his patients which is also in Rooster’s section that day and he bleeps the order info to Rooster. Fifteen minutes later he sees that it hasn’t been filled and is like, hah, I knew there is a reason I hate that guy. Finds him when he passes Jake in the corridor and is like, “I want you to start the IV for room 7. Now,” and Rooster  just tells him, “No, do it yourself or find someone else.” 

They have a little back and forth as Jake follows him down the corridor which ends with another, “No.”

There’s still no charge nurse in the ER (she’s on medical leave that will most likely end with her leaving employment, from what Jake gathers) so he makes a datix and the ER nurse manager (Warlock) following up is apprehensive because obviously, he knows Bradley, and hears about what actually happened — Bradley was getting an igel for a toddler from the peds side and deemed it more important than starting a bag of saline to bust someone's blood pressure.

Jake feels like an idiot.

*

Jake and Reuben are charting next to each other and Reuben gets bleeped his patient’s lab results. Jake, who is also waiting for lab results, complains about how he sent a pod to the lab before Reuben. Reuben just gives him a look and says, “Yeah, that’s because I asked Bradley to put my request in.”

And Jake is like, “What does he have to do with anything?”

Reuben looks at him like he’s dumb and says, “He has more sway with the lab,” and walks away with his tablet.

*

Javy is doing a consult for Nat and stops to chat to Jake (they know each other from residency days) and Bradley comes by and says, “Maggie’s becoming hypotensive again,” and Javy observes as Jake looks at the nurse that came, gives him a very long, very detailed look and licks his lips.

He manages to think Oh before Jake asks, “Maggie?”

The nurse looks seconds from rolling his eyes. “Mrs. Lawrence? Room 5?” 

“That's Margaret.”

“She prefers Maggie.”

And it goes on, with Jake standing there rigid, puffing up his chest and cocking his hip out. “Did you start the fluids?”

“Finshed already.”

“Start another bag.”

The nurse looks unimpressed and instead of confirming says, slowly, like he’s talking to a child, “Her fluid balance is positive. She’s usually on pressors.” Jake’s face gets red and he goes, “Then put an order for her.”

It’s kind of funny to observe and to be fair, the nurse does give Jake a minute to go over what he said, leaning his elbow on the counter, eyebrows raised, before he points out, in that damn slow, unimpressed tone, “I can't put orders for things like pressors."

He hands Jake the closest tablet and starts walking away.

Jake calls after him. "What, you're not even going to draft it for me?"

He doesn't even turn around and Javy is silently shaking from the laughter he's holding in, "I thought I wasn't allowed to do that, doctor."

*

Mav comes down to the ER to talk to Rooster on a slower day — about how they’re about to sponsor a new CRNA for the cardiothoracic surg unit and maybe he could put a good word for their development team for Bradley and yada yada.

It happens like that: Mav comes down, Bradley is charting next to the monitors station, Jake is going over a scan on the opposite side when The Dr. Mitchell himself comes down and stops next to Bradley. He gives Bradley and his pink Paw Patrol scrubs a look and clears his throat a couple of times before Bradley raises his gaze toward him, turning away a second later and ignoring him again.

Jake is freaking out — this is The Dr. Mitchell and one of the reasons Jake wanted to work in this exact hospital, along with the rumored to-be-announced cardiothoracic surg fellowship under Dr. Mitchell he had his eyes on. He’s been thinking about how to make contact with Dr. Mitchell since he started in the ER and here he is, telling unresponsive Bradshaw, “I heard you’re looking to go back for your Master’s in the near future.” Bradshaw doesn’t say anything and Dr. Mitchell adds, “We have a CRNA development spot for—” and Bradley tells him, not turning away from the screen, “I’m not an OR nurse,” and then taps his card on the computer’s reader to log out and walks away.

Dr. Mitchell is a fucking legend, a VIP of this hospital, so Jake just stands there, contemplating how the heck Bradshaw could do that and hears him mumbling under his breath, “Really slick, Mav,” and jumps on the opportunity to say, “I’ll be talking to his supervisor about this, his attitude is unacceptable, Dr. Mitchell.”

And Dr. Mitchell turns to him, raises an eyebrow and asks, “Excuse me?” 

“The nurse you were talking to. He might be senior in here but his attitude’s been horrible and I’ll personally step in. This won’t happen again.”

Dr. Mitchell gives him a look before slowly saying, “I suggest you mind your own business, Dr. Seresin,” and walks away.

Nat is silently laughing a few feet away and Jake asks her what’s so funny. His heart dead-ass stops when she says, “You do know Dr. Mitchell is Bradley’s dad, right? They might not be on the best of terms but that’s still his son.” And Jake has the urge to bang his head on the keyboard in front of him. 

* 

TW for transphobia.

There’s a new nurse practitioner to be (graduated, about to get her cert) that's rumored to be a candidate for the charge nurse position. Izzy. She’s quite young for that, younger than Bradley for sure, must have barely worked in the clinical area before going for her Master’s. Jake doesn’t know if it’s on purpose but the nurse manager and Bradley keep on putting her in his section.

She’s—well, she’s a bit too in his face. She agrees with everything Jake says and doesn’t roll his eyes at him, which is boring, and she’s, for an NP, not that knowledgeable. She doesn’t argue with him, which is a change, and Jake starts to hate it after about five hours. Her voice is saccharine sweet, she keeps on standing a bit too close to him at all times, and she’s decent with patients, but she keeps on asking him about the smallest of things.

Jake’s section is less busy, usually, since he deals primarily with trauma in the ER, but she never bounces off to help others when she is free, like Bradley did. She’s clinging to his section, a little bit, and he doesn’t get why. It’s not like he is any nicer to her than to Bradley or any other nurse.

She is busy taking bloods and Bradley finds him when he has a second alone, finally, and enlightens him about why.

“If you don’t believe me, you can just ask any other nurse. Everyone noticed.”

“If you really think that then why do you keep putting her in my sections?”

“I don’t. She’s senior as an NP, she’s taken over allocation from me now.”

Jake’s mind only focuses on one detail. “You were allocating yourself to my sections?”

“Only because no one wants to work with you and because I’m actually certified in trauma.” That makes sense. It’s not like Bradley would work with him voluntarily. “Look, all I’m saying, you watch out — you fool around with her and then reject her and she’s going to HR. I know the type.”

“The type?”

“You know, the girl that thought she’ll become a nurse, snag a rich doctor and never work again? Well, it’s not always women, there are guys who do that too, but in this case, she’s very much the type.”

“And you think she’s trying to—snag me?”

“She’s certainly not going after the residents that are getting paid twelve bucks an hour or Reuben who is married,” he points out. Which, again, fair, even if he didn’t know Reuben is married prior to this strange conversation.

Jake stares at him, processing, until he blurts out, “I’m gay.”

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about,” Bradley says after a second, eyes barely noticeably a bit wider, before he walks away.

“Was he bothering you, doctor?”

She calls him doctor, always, and it honestly makes him grit his teeth. Now even more. He’s got a bad feeling about it.

It gets confirmed later when Jake is taking care of a six-year-old girl who had fallen down the stairs. She’s dehydrated and Izzy’s just tried to put a cannula on her three times before Jake told her to grab the bedside ultrasound and not make the girl cry even more.

Bradley passes by the room and Jake’s learned that he can’t leave a distressed child alone, so he comes in and gets the parents and the girl relaxed. He’s about to go in and tell him to leave it alone until Izzy brings the ultrasound when Nat grabs him by the arm and tells him, “He was in a Rapid Response Team, I’m pretty sure he can put a cannula in blind. Just let him do it.”

And he does let him. Watches, expecting the girl to burst into tears at any moment but she never does. Bradley’s literally been in the room for less than ten minutes and it’s all back to calmness.

Izzy comes back with the ultrasound. It should not have taken her so long to grab it. “What is he doing there? That's my patient.”

"He said he can put the IV line without the ultrasound.” Well, Nat said so. Jake can’t believe he’s saying but, “He’s a peds nurse, he’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure the girl's parents wouldn’t want him anywhere near her.”

This sets alarm bells in Jake’s head. “What do you mean?”

"People like him shouldn't be around kids," she says, to his horror. She leans in, way closer than needed, and conspiringly whispers, "Dr. Seresin, haven't you known that he is, you know, a she in disguise?"

He’s dumbstruck. "I'm sorry?"

"He's actually a woman, just pretending to be a man because he's mentally—You're the doctor, I'm sure you know better than I how the brains of people like them work. He shouldn't be around that girl, is what I'm saying. I certainly wouldn't like him around my child, if I had one."

Jake didn’t know this about Bradley but he understands what she means, even with how awful she is about it. This, however, should not be a piece of information thrown around in public if Bradley didn't wish to disclose it, and certainly not in such a manner. "And how do you know that, exactly?"

"Nurses share a locker room, it's not hard to notice how she, you know, mutilated herself."

Jake doesn’t say anything out loud but mentally he is preparing datix report in his head. He catches the ER’s nurse manager before he goes home, too, because that’s some shit he doesn’t stand for. He might be an asshole but he’s not a bigot.

Next time he comes to work, Bradley is back in his section and Izzy is no longer employed.

“Thanks,” Bradley says, when they’re at the station, next to each other, in a relatively slow moment. “If I went on my own, we’d have a weeks-long investigation that would probably end with her or me moving to a different unit.”

“She said this shit to your face?”

“Kept calling me she in front of patients,” Bradley admits after a moment. “I think most of them thought they misheard but—I knew.”

“Well, good riddance then.”

Bradley snorts, but he’s looking down at the tablet in his hands, smiling, and wow, the apples of his cheeks are so round and his eyes so bright and Jake can't breathe for a second.

---

(there might be a second part coming because I meant seven-season-long medical drama literally-- including Jake realizing he's an idiot, Mavdad drama, Jake having his hands inside Bradley (in the literal, surgical sense) and jealousy that could rival the McDreamy/Dr. Grey drama)

[fruityfroggy]

Some over analysis of the poses in this TS promotional art, because I can (I think)

(Also, this turned out sooo damn long, so be warned)

Okay, so I had this thought about their hand positionings alluding to a general idea of their (initial) intentions.

There seems to be a pattern with the general placements of the Lis hands that splits pretty evenly. Said placements are: holding out their hand (Ais and Kuras), having their hand on the side of their face/head region (Vere and Leander), and hands that aren't really doing much (Mhin).

Holding out your hand tends to have a more welcoming and helpful association and feeling to it. So, Ais and Kuras holding out a hand could signify an actual sense of wanting to help MC find a cure. This makes a lot of sense for the two of them since they do seem like the least toxic ones from what we’ve been able to get from the demo (of course, Mhin doesn’t seem very toxic either, but their situation is a little different). Also, I did take into consideration that Kuras is kinda…suspicious in a way, but I think that that could be conveyed by his hand not being held out directly toward the viewer. This might mean that he isn’t necessarily as genuine about it as Ais in some way, but he is for the most part.

Putting your hand(s) on the side of your face/head when posing tends to bring more attention to your face. You’re bringing interest to that area by having your hand do something that could enhances how your face region looks. So Vere and Leander on the other hand (pun intended), having a hand placed in said area could represent how they’re planning on “helping you” in a way that prioritizes benefiting them. Vere wants to be free from his magic-bound leash, and he sees that MC is very determined to get involved with the Senobium. He thinks that if he plays his cards right, then MC’s empathy could bring them to help him break free. Promising guidance for MC’s mission is the first step to playing his cards right. Leander’s route though, is clearly going to end in betrayal that would cause some sort of benefit for him. It’s just not as clear when it comes to what it is exactly.

With Mhin’s pose, there’s a clear difference from the others. They’re not doing anything extra with their hands. They’re not posing in a way that purposefully tries to grab your attention, which could represent how they don’t have any particular intentions toward MC at this point in the game. Mhin doesn’t want help, and they don’t want anything from MC either. I don’t even think that they know about MC’s curse yet (unless I’m forgetting something), Mhin truly doesn’t have much of a reason to interact with them again unless MC approaches them first. Mhin could likely not be the one who starts an interaction between the two for a good while in their route. MC is the one that has to try and get Mhin's attention if they want to romance them, not the other way around like the other Lis. MC has to convince Mhin to come with them, as there's no willingness from them (yet).

Another thing I've noticed is that Mhin's pose is compact compared to the rest of the group (all shoulders back, one arm up in one way or another). Of course, it's a fairly casual compactness. They're not completely hugging their knees to their chest or anything. But looking at the image altogether, Mhin does seem to be an outlier of sorts. I mean, they're the only one sitting, they're the most compact, they're the only one who's not being attention seeking to any degree. All of this conveys their closed-off personality very well, yes (it's like they didn't wanna be there and just wanted to quickly get it over with), but maybe this says something about their route too. Like I mentioned before, MC will have to try extra hard for Mhin to gain a sense of fondness toward them. So, the lack of fondness and desire to be around MC at the start could also be a reason that they barely fit in with the pre-established posing conventions (is that a phrase?). No other Li has shown signs of this except for Mhin, possibly making a big difference in how you play their route (as opposed to the rest).

I feel like this is most likely the only actual intentional symbolism that I mentioned so far, but I do want to point out that the mini Eridia at the bottom is heavily scooched to the left so that it barely touches Mhin. I just like this little detail because it's quite a clever way to sneakily remind you that they're an outsider too (if that was intentional). But the fact that we needed to be reminded of that, especially in such a sneaky way. It's almost as if it's emphasizing the fact. I haven't thought of a possible reason for it, but I feel like there could be something in there.

Okay, this was all that I could find and think of. If anything else comes to me, I may do another part. But I think this is enough hidden stuff for an image of Lis to promote a visual novel.....right?

[xluciifer]

Vox: Do you want to come over to my place and sleep?

Lucifer: Like a sleepover? Aw, that's cute.

Vox: [ is trying to sleep with him ] Yeah-

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Excuse me while I ramble about Nine and how he makes me sad when I think about him now because just how does he feel over Sonic bringing the entire fucking shatterverse armada on him because of course Sonic has that at his disposal. Even the goddamn Chaos Cuntcil alright, okey.(you read that wrong read it again)

So apparently everyone just knows this super-special little secret to making and keeping friends that no one ever told him about! Even other versions of himself! Fantastic that is!! Brilliant even!! Fucking amazing!!!

Hes just broken beyond repair like that, huh.

The only person that ever called him a friend wasn't even seeing him for him for great majority of their time spent together and after rejecting a literal paradise in making he brought his other friends(that sure is a lot of them!!) to beat him up and stop him keeping the one solace he ever had (I mean he is still very much destroying the shatterverse, he is doing that and is endangering everything in the process, but this is solely from Nine's perspective and see if he cares because no one cared about him ever, what are other people to him but an obstacle or an enemy)

Just how alone and hurt he is and probably even scared despite the power he now wields, he has true power for the first time in his life leave him alone!!! (Don't, actually. He needs a vibe check really badly, and than prefferably some genuine love and mint tea and healthy amount of isolation to deal withe evrythi g cuz booooi)

And while I previously made a silly little jab about him having unlimited power and only using it to create more robots, I get it!! No shit he's gonna fall back on the only thing that never failed, betrayed or turned his back on him and decided to gather the whole rest of the class to beat him.up!! His tech was the only thing that gave him enough strenght to stand up and say enough is enough and the only thing that probably gave him any semblance of happiness while everything and everyone else around wanted him dead.

Just like now.

Hes also the little guy ever, like he's so short he heads his tails to prop him up to reach tge panels in the eg HQ (I actually forgor the name of that place I'm sorry)

Nine man do you get it do you understand me do even fuckin

[kennabeth]

this is one of my favorite theses in the inkworld each way it plays out is so!!

elinor's dad valued his books over her and her sisters to the point she internalizes it and becomes the same kind of hermit he was, before and after the folcharts come back into her life. basta was groomed into believing he was inherently unlovable except by capricorn so he'd do anything to keep that small remaining amount of love. brianna realizes if dustfinger wasn't dead then he had to have abandoned her, so the next person to give her their full attention? she'll throw away every other relationship she has for them, the same way she was thrown away. the verbal abuse violante endured as a kid (and currently, because 19 is still a kid) influenced the kind of mother she is and she doesn't even realize until it's almost too late that she's done to jacopo what the adder did to her! and I've already talked about the physical abuse from farid's birth family influencing how he forms severely anxious relationships.

and none of these are just character padding! all of these characters influence the plot so heavily by becoming traumatized and by working through it and I don't have any idea how she pulled it off

[cows-wearing-my-sweater]

"this is why if you want to kiss you should kiss."

word count: 2354 warnings: brief mentions of alcohol + smoking notes: my first time posting my writing to tumblr so i hope you enjoy this!! i dont write very frequently, but i hope it's a nice read regardless <3

You sit on the old and broken couch, holding a red cup that’s half-filled with something you don’t plan on drinking. It’s dark. Someone brought a strobe light that barely functions; it’s something out of a bad high school party. You watch the party in slow flashes of blue, green, orange. A guy in the other room is pouring beer on himself. A girl you vaguely recognise from your hometown is plastered. She’ll probably be passed out on the shag carpet in a matter of minutes. Someone is playing too-loud house music through busted speakers. At the other end of the couch, someone else is straddling their boyfriend’s lap. None of their kisses meet the guy’s lips, but they don’t care. 

In the midst of the bleak scene, there’s you.

After about thirty minutes of the party, you had become unsure of why you were even there. Something about a new friend dragging you along, something about needing to meet new people. You know it’s certainly true, but a voice in the back of your head nags at you, saying that this feels more pathetic than if you had just stayed home tonight. 

You look around the room for nothing in particular, even though your eyes are analysing every detail they fall on. Maybe you’re praying for just one familiar face. The friend who had dragged you along is long gone, and the longer you think about it, the more you begin to panic. You take a sip of your drink out of desperation; it’s sickly warm and unpleasant going down, but something’s got to calm the nerves. 

You finally get to your feet, deciding to abandon the couple next to you before they go all the way. You walk around the house aimlessly, trying not to bump into the warm bodies all around you. People are dancing like there’s nowhere else they’d rather be. They don’t seem to notice how bad the music is, or the sickening combined smell of weed and vomit that seems to hang in every room. You envy this carelessness, the ability to let go of cynicism for a night. 

Miraculously, you manage to push yourself to the front door, letting out a sigh of relief as it swings open and you step out onto the concrete steps. The February air bites you, but you relish the sting of the cold against your ears and nose, letting it seep into the rest of your body. Few people are out here; one person is lying facedown on the grass, passed out. You spot a group of friends walking home, stumbling a little but laughing loudly. What really catches your eye, though, are the faint wisps of cigarette smoke drifting through the air. It’s coming from around the side of the house. You walk towards it, listening to the somewhat foolish hope in your mind that maybe this person is just as miserable as you.

He’s standing there and he’s beautiful. You can’t make out the details of his features in the darkness, but you feel your breathing hitch. Suddenly you’re an idiot for approaching him, because he’s staring at you expectantly and you have nothing to say. His eyebrows are raised as he withdraws the cigarette from his lips. When you take too long to search for words, he spares you further embarrassment and takes the lead. “Party ended up a bit rubbish, didn’t it?”

This seems to pull you out of your stupor. You silently curse yourself before responding, unable to figure why your brain had short-circuited at the sight of the stranger. “Yeah… you know it’s bad when it looks like a 17 year old’s idea of a rager.”

He laughs at this, gracing you with a kind smile. Without a word, he reaches into his pocket and offers you a cigarette.

A smoke suddenly sounds like the most wonderful thing in the world.

You’re about to ask for a lighter when he says, “Here, I’ll do it.” You hold the cigarette to your lips while he pulls the lighter out of the same pocket. He holds your wrist to steady your hand, which is shaking slightly from the cold. Your eyes dart away, not wanting to make eye contact while his skin is on yours. It feels so childish to be acting like this around a mystery guy you’ve spoken to for about thirty seconds, but you can’t help it.

The two of you stand there together for the next minute, inhaling and exhaling in unison. It’s dead quiet, and it’s freezing, but it’s cathartic. 

You don’t notice him stealing glances at you, trying to catch every detail in the minimal light. He comes to the conclusion that you seem well worth a night of adventure, which is when he asks, “D’you want to get out of here?”

You look up at him, a little taken aback. “I don’t even know your name…?”

“Matty.”

You pause to think, but then quickly decide against thinking. “I’d love to ditch with you, Matty.”

You’re shocked by your own answer, yet pleasantly surprised. You don’t know what’s made you drop your senses, forget about going home, but you’re a little proud. This is what you had been aching over just earlier tonight. So, as Matty snuffs out his cigarette and you follow suit, you force back the creeping doubt that’s coming through. This is fine. You have your wits about you. You figure anywhere is better than here, anyway.

Matty leads the both of you back around to the front of the house, cautiously stepping around the passed out body on the lawn. He pauses by the front steps. “Anyone you need to let know you’re leaving?”

It’s reassuring that he asks this, but you shrug in a noncommittal manner. “I suppose not, no.” You think back to the girl that had convinced you to come here. She’s sweet to have attempted to take you under her wing, but her attempt was fruitless. You doubt your absence will be noticed, but you take no issue with this. “What about you? Who’re you leaving behind?” you question, suddenly wondering why Matty had been so eager to escape with you – aside from the fact that the party was very clearly only going to get bleaker. He’s charismatic, he’s sweet, he’s much more attractive than you like to admit. It’s a wonder that he isn’t back inside, thriving in the center of everything, everyone.

Matty simply mimics your shrug, but a sly smile is spread across his face. “Ah, they can live without me for a night. Doubt my friends are sticking around much longer, they probably hate it here too.”

You accept his answer. Part of you wants to smile to yourself at this feeling of being at least somewhat desired, being chosen. Especially by Matty, a person who is now consistently piquing your interest. The feeling is new, but it warms you. But maybe the warmth you feel is because Matty has now taken your hand in his, leading you off the lawn and into the street.

“God, you’re freezing,” he mumbles, furrowing his brow as you continue walking together.

You laugh a little at this. “Matty, it’s gotta be subzero right now, of course I’m freezing.”

Matty just hums at this. Without a word, he pulls you much closer to his side. You’re met with the smell of cologne, cigarettes, and what you pick out to be the faintest trace of weed. On most people, this would be repulsive, but there’s something strangely comforting about the scent of Matty, and suddenly you realise you don’t want to be pulled away from his side like this.

Apprehension must be showing on your face, though, because Matty breaks the silence by saying, “I don’t bite, you know. If you’re feeling anxious we can go back, love.”

You look up at him, still somewhat pressed to his side. “No, no,” you say hurriedly, “I actually quite like this.”

This brings a true smile to Matty’s face, and you almost think that’s enough to warm your entire body. It’s a wide smile, the kind that makes his eyes crinkle up just a bit, and the grip of his arm around you tightens almost imperceptibly. “I think I quite like you.”

“Oh, come on now,” you say behind your own smile. “You haven’t asked my name yet, you know.”

Matty stops in his tracks at this, causing you to come to a halt as well. “God, I haven’t!” he exclaims. “I’m so sorry, er… what’s your name, darling?”

You give an exaggerated roll of your eyes and sigh, “I suppose I can tell you it’s [Y/N] now that you’ve finally been a gentleman to me.”

“That’s enough,” he groans. “I swear, I only forgot because I’ve been so enamored with you.”

You can’t quite tell if he’s being serious here, but something in his voice suggests genuineness. At least, that’s what you hope it is. “Enamored, huh?” you ask, trying to prod more out of him.

Matty pretends not to hear you, though, and you decide that’s your cue to move on from the moment. As you walk toward whatever Matty’s destination is, you fill the time with questions about each other. You start with small-talk questions (“What music are you into?” “What brings you to this town?” “Do you have a girlfriend?”), but Matty is more interested in big-talk. He’s very much so determined to open you up, to get inside your head and never leave. It doesn’t even take long before he becomes more and more successful in this venture. You find yourself speaking easily, passionately, with Matty. His conversations aren’t self-serving – they don’t exist for him to be pretentious or for him to talk himself up. His conversations exist because he wants to listen.  He hangs on to every word you say like a lifeline, and you can feel this. You feel his deep, gentle eyes trained on you as you pick the right words to answer his question with.

You’re not even particularly aware anymore of the fact that his arm is still wrapped around you, or that your walk with Matty has diverged from the road and instead led you to a park with winding tree-lined paths. When there’s a lull in the conversation, Matty quickly tells you, “I promise I’m not taking us anywhere dodgy.”

For the first time during this whole adventure, you pull away from him, eyebrows raised. “You know that sounds extremely dodgy, don’t you?”

Matty cocks his head to the side, as if pondering your question. “You’ll just have to trust me then, huh?”

You shove Matty lightly. “I’ve given you the gift of my absolute blind trust this whole night, don’t make me regret it just when I’m starting to have fun.”

Another wide grin spreads across his face. “We’re almost where I wanted to take you, anyway.”

He leads you, hand in hand, through one of the wooded paths. It slowly rises upward on an incline, and you start silently praying that the ground levels out before you break into a sweat, even in the frigid air.

Then, before you even realise, the ground actually has leveled out and you’re at the top of a hill. The pathway Matty led you through has faded into the grass here, and all that lays before you is a grassy field and an inky sky, each stretching into nothingness. Stars speckle the sky and a half moon accompanies them, and it’s all too beautiful.

Matty is watching you, waiting for a reaction. “I think it’s quite spectacular here,” he starts. “It’s all quite plain and mundane – just grass and all that. But that’s sort of spectacular, d’you know what I mean?”

You nod in agreement, turning to look at Matty. He looks like he belongs in this scene, a very small and quiet smile adorning his face. A thin beam of moonlight has fallen across him, and this is the moment you take in every visible detail of him. He could’ve been sculpted by the gods, the way each feature compliments one another so perfectly. You wonder how his curls would feel between your fingers or against your cheek. You wonder if his lips fit with yours.

He’s staring back at you now but neither of you seem to care. Time has frozen still and you both know something will happen, but for this moment neither of you wish to speak it into existence. Every detail of this needs to be memorised.

“Would it be too forward to ask to kiss you?” Matty asks softly.

An hour or two ago you would have left right there and gone home. You think about how pathetic you felt in that living room on the beer-soaked couch. You think about Matty listening so carefully to every word you speak, about how gorgeous he is, about how badly you simply want to kiss him. And you decide that’s enough. Against any reasoning that would’ve told you off for kissing a stranger, you shake your head and let Matty’s lips meet yours. The taste of his cigarette still lingers there, and you savor it. Your lips melt into his, seeking the warmth he provides against the cold night. It's magic; you feel as though you're falling into him. His fingers brush against your cheek, which gives you the courage to raise your own hand to meet his hair, twirling a loose curl around your finger. 

Matty is the first to break the kiss, and when he does, you don’t know where to look. He notices this very quickly and uses his index finger to tilt your head back to face him again. “I’m glad we did that.”

You’re glad too. Something has been planted inside you. It tells you to kiss Matty all over again because maybe all that matters right now is the fact that he is looking at you like an angel has just graced his lips. He is looking at you like you’re the very stars hanging above. And you have never felt something more right than letting yourself kiss him.

“Could we do it again?”

[greatdisaster]

officer fox and inspector rabbit 🦊🐰