so one time i got bit by a brown recluse which is one of the only types of spider in my area that's actually dangerous and at first i didn't know what had happened to me, only that it was nasty. the swelling wasn't going down and the wound started to get ugly. i don't want to like get into the details because that's gross but it got to the point 2 weeks later that i was worried enough to go to the doctor, which i hate doing.
i am not afraid of spiders but other people are so i'd been covering it with this big ole square bandage (i needed more landscape coverage than a simple bandaid) and sat in the university medical waiting room, kicking my heels and playing BOTW. the nurse who admitted me was like, oh, we have got to get Tom to cover this one. she wrote spider bite under my ticket.
i waited in the near-empty building for like an hour and then nurse tom shows up in spiderman scrubs, out of breath. "sorry," he says, "i saw - your slip - and I had," he heaves in a breath, "to run home and. get. these scrubs. i literally. ran. felt like a job. for. spiderman."
i laugh. he puts his hands on his knees, thumbs-ups at me. fishes a pamphlet out from under his clipboard that basically says spiders can be scary but you don't need to be scared, there's very few dangerous spiders in new england. "honestly," he wheezes, "we probably don't need to get you into an exam room. just..." he waves his hand at the pamphlet, "read that."
i look down at my arm. then back at him in his scrubs. and then down at my arm. i like that he made an effort to make a joke, but now it does not feel like a good joke, because they are mistaking my calm for a lack of injury. "can i. like. at least show you the bite?"
he gives me kind of a weird look, which is fair, but then says. "if. i mean, if you have to."
i peel the bandage off. his face goes green.
"oh," he says.
"yeah, man."
"a... spider bit you?" his voice is high and tight and trembling. he backs up a few steps.
"i think a brown recluse," i offer. "i know it's nasty, sorry."
"excuse me for a moment." he looks over to the administering nurse on the other side of the small room. "i need to find someone else to take care of you."
the administering nurse smiles over to us with a degree of pleasure that is almost salivating. for a moment, like a window opening, i am briefly aware of what must be a psychic message floating amongst the in-between. her jaguar teeth all say this is like a party for me and i know exactly what i'm doing.
"oh no, tom," she says, grinning. "i gave her to you specifically."
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DP x DC Prompt
This, but it's because their flight home was canceled due to Gotham's airport being destroyed. And they didn't want to drive all the way back.
The reason it all started was because Tucker was really bored and was getting a bit frustrated when he couldn't get past one of WE's many firewalls. He had already skimmed through everything else and concluded that Gotham's Brucie Wayne was a literal angel sent from heaven to one the worst cities in the world because he committed a crime so horrific that not even God could look him in his pretty little face anymore and that firewall proved it!
So to cool his head off, he decided to hack into a bank. Banks were pretty easy, right? Almost anyone could do it with just enough knowledge and the proper equipment. What he DIDN'T expect was just how EASY it was to do so. Laughably so, to the point it made him cry.
Did Gotham's rouges or Gothamites in general not like money? Not even the small-time rouges? Because he KNEW those operations that they try to pull off cost money. Shit tons!
So when his laughter became so disturbing that his friends and even his frenemies got concerned, all he had to do was show them what he found out. Which sent them spiraling into laughter as well. Like, c'mon, even Amity Park's bank was more secure than that and they only had fucking GHOST CRIME!
As the tears began to dry, and the laughter turned to giggles, one of the girls suggested something.
Star: Why don't we, like, rob it or something?
The hotel room went silent and Star started to fidget. Then she started to ramble.
Star: I mean like, we don't have to. It was kind of a joke anyway, since their security's so bad ya know, and I'm pretty sure we're gonna be here for a while and-
Dani: Star, baby, sweetie, honey. Why are you justifying yourself when we were all probably thinking the same thing, right?
Nod and hums of agreement filled the girl with relief.
Wes: Besides it's not a class trip unless we cause some trouble right?
They all then pilled into the bed and around Tucker as his finger flew across the keyboard.
Tucker: So, where are we hitting up first?
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You are amazing! Amazing! And I'm a greedy person, so I propose: Older! Time traveler! Baek Cheon and Tang Bo compete for Cheong Myeong's affection. CM is oblivious and CMun is in hell reserved for protective older brothers. Those perverted bastards! How dare they lust after his precious, naive and innocent sajae?! He'll break their heads!
You're so sweet to me 🥺🫶 thank you so much!!!!
also I ADORE TIME TRAVEL AUs sm you have no idea how giddy I got when I saw this ask WAHAHAHA
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"Oh? He's pretty handsome..."
Tang Bo almost spills the alcohol he was pouring into his cup. His eyes immediately snap towards Chung Myung's face as he slowly lowers the bottle back on the table.
This guy slouched in front of him wasn't someone who gave compliments that easily. It took months of nudging and stubborn insistence for Chung Myung to finally admit that Tang Bo was 'passable-looking, sure, whatever'—a compliment that had to be drawn out tooth and nail but one that Tang Bo won through hard work and effort.
So, surely, he must have misheard Chung Myung's muttering.
"Did you say something, hyung-nim?" Tang Bo asks, smile twitching stiffly at the way Chung Myung's gaze remained locked on something—someone—behind Tang Bo as he took a long sip from his own cup.
"That man behind you," Chung Myung replies, pointing at the subject of their conversation with his mouth non-too-discretely. "He looks like a traveling prince or something."
Tang Bo doesn't know what minute expression passed through his face, but Chung Myung catches it well enough and raises a questioning eyebrow at him.
"I'm serious." Chung Myung insists, not realizing that Tang Bo is irritated for a completely different reason. "He really does look like some well-off to-do guy."
Tang Bo huffs and turns around without any subtlety whatsoever, determined to see what 'this prince guy' looked like to have managed to snag his hyung's attention so easily.
Tang Bo lets out an indignant noise. Okay, he'll admit it. The guy was abnormally handsome. He had well-defined androgynous facial features and an equally well-defined body, Tang Bo thinks, as his gaze locks onto the man's thick and muscled arms.
There might have been merit in Chung Myung's comment about this guy probably being a prince of sorts. If he was, Tang Bo would hedge a guess that he was a runaway one.
The man wore faded, plain white robes without any discernable insignia marking him from a sect or family. He had a similarly white headband strapped across his forehead with dark bangs framing an unblemished face.
If he was trying to disguise himself or hide his identity, he was doing a terrible job at it. Despite the simplicity of his outfit, his presence alone (and face) demanded attention.
"Told you." Chung Myung cheekily says, laughing at Tang Bo's disgruntled expression.
Even Tang Bo could admit that the man looks like he stepped out of one of the many heroic epics that common folk often passed around through books and verbal tales. How unfair.
Grumbling lightly, Tang Bo turns back to their table and throws back his cup of alcohol. "Bet he's just some rich runaway brat."
"Eh? Probably. But—ah, huh?"
A shadow falls over Tang Bo and he watches as Chung Myung's surprised face ends up trained above Tang Bo's head.
"Hello." The man greets them with his deep voice.
Ugh, Tang Bo grimaces as he pulls back his chair away from the man's shadow. Even his voice sounded handsome if that were even possible.
But Tang Bo was the gentleman between him and his hyung, so he replies, faking politeness, "Can we help you? My companion and I are in the middle of a meal together, you see."
Tang Bo tenses, immediately on guard when he sees the man's eyes sharpen as it turns towards him, clearly recognizing the dismissive tone Tang Bo used.
Other than an indecipherable flash in his eyes, the man's face (which felt more punch-able by the second, if you asked Tang Bo) remained unchanged.
The disruptor kept his gentle smile and Tang Bo was certain that he chose to stand where he did because of the way the lightbulb illuminated his face from above.
"It's alright, I can wait."
If Tang Bo had any less self-control, he would have already grabbed the man by the lapels of his faded robes and tossed him out of the establishment himself.
Who the hell was this man to have the audacity to look at his Chung Myung with such a warm gaze as he said that?
"Ha. Ha." Tang Bo grits out, a vein in his jaw ticking.
He doesn't care if this man looks like the textbook and fairytale version of a heroic warrior. His shamelessness should cancel out that stupid-looking face of his...!
Tang Bo feels a part of his soul leave at the unfairness of it all when Chung Myung shifts in his seat in involuntary self-consciousness.
Normal people wouldn't have noticed that—hell, not even Chung Myung himself probably realized!—but Tang Bo knew his hyung. They've spent too much time together to not not know each other's body language.
So why?
Why the hell did Tang Bo just spot a smirk on the man's face, huh?!?!
Chung Myung's eyes waver momentarily for reasons Tang Bo couldn't pick out, but Chung Myung hesitantly (why, hyung?!) opens his mouth and asks, "Have we...met before?"
Tang Bo's eyes nearly bulge out of his skull at the flirtatious-sounding sentence.
He knows Chung Myung doesn't realize it, but his hyung was personally handing over a signed warrant to this man, allowing him permission to take as many shameless liberties as he wanted.
In times like this, Tang Bo wishes his hyung wasn't as socially oblivious as he was.
He knows it's a futile hope to wish that the man missed the opening. But he seemed to recognize that Chung Myung was asking the question with pure face value.
Nonetheless, Tang Bo wishes he hadn't suggested this very detour for some alcohol because then they wouldn't have encountered this tall man in front of them.
The stupid, headband-wearing man hums as he fiddles lightly with the pink tassel on the hilt of his sheathed sword.
His gaze goes a bit distant as if recalling a far-off memory, and when he blinks back to reality, he lets out a deep, vibrating chuckle and locks eyes with Chung Myung.
"You were unforgettable."
Tang Bo's lips tremble. Why did it sound as if this man was insinuating something? His words felt like a romantic confession as well as a pointed barb directed at Tang Bo.
Chung Myung coughs lightly at the odd compliment thrown at him and throws back in one go the remaining alcohol in their shared bottle. He chuckles awkwardly before motioning at the man to sit down on the other side of the table.
Tang Bo doesn't think Chung Myung realizes it, but a light pink flush is spread over his cheeks.
And Tang Bo, unconsciously crushing the cup of alcohol in his hand, knew that it wasn't because of the alcohol.
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