#been needing some cape air

[mer-se]

when u wake up to a text from ur dad telling you orcas were spotted down the cape swimming with dolphins 🥲🐬🩵

[raeathnos]

.

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Wearing Their Clothes

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers' reactions to seeing you wear an article of their clothing.

Of all the things that surprised you in the Devildom, one of the biggest shocks was the fact that it had weather just like the Human Realm. Of course, there were many representations of what “Hell” looked like. You just never saw one that showed it raining or snowing there. So, when large snowflakes started falling, to say you were both shocked and confused would be an understatement.

You were still at RAD when it started snowing. There had been a mandatory student council meeting; and, afterwards, Lucifer had asked you to stay behind and help him with some paperwork.

Diavolo had asked Lucifer to have the exchange students fill out a survey on how their time in the Devildom had been so far; and, since you were already with him, he thought yours would be the easiest to fill out.

He was pleasantly surprised when you had nothing but praise to give Lucifer. He wore a proud smile as you talked about how much you’ve been enjoying your time in the Devildom. He loved hearing you talk about it - each commendation making him feel the all-too-familiar emotion that had been bestowed upon his demon form. 

He was having such a great time, in fact, that he didn’t realize how late it had gotten until he looked out the window and noticed how dark it was outside. 

“We must have lost track of time,” Lucifer told you before offering to walk with you back to the House of Lamentation. Not that you had a choice in the matter. After all, it was far too dangerous for you to walk back by yourself.

The second you stepped outside of RAD, you immediately regretted it. The cold air bit at your skin as the snow continued to fall. You cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket; but, how were you supposed to know that it was going to snow in the Devildom today.

You walked silently alongside Lucifer, doing your best to keep your teeth from chattering. Lucifer studied you as the two of you walked. You were usually more chatty. Was something wrong?

He looked at your appearance. Your complexion was flushed, your body slightly shivering. Lucifer raised an eyebrow as suddenly he understood what was happening - you were cold.

Lucifer was immediately taking off his large fur cape and offering it to you. The gesture warmed your heart, but you declined. He needed it or else he would be cold - you argued. Lucifer would make an argument about how much more fragile humans were than demons and then tell you, “Besides, I can’t have you die from the cold. It would be a bad look for Lord Diavolo.”

You chuckled at his words before agreeing, realizing Lucifer wasn’t going to back down. He helped place his cape over your shoulders, securing it in place. You were immediately thankful for the warmth the cape provided - the color almost instantly returning to your cheeks.

Lucifer couldn’t help but smile as he looked at you in his cape - the sheer size of it nearly enveloping your entire body. The snow fell on top of you, your hair and eyelashes being coated in white. You looked beautiful. 

Lucifer admired you the whole way home, hoping that it would snow more often in the Devildom so that he could see you in his cape more often.

Mammon liked to spend a lot of time in your room. After all, he was your “first” so why shouldn’t he be allowed in there whenever he liked. He would spend countless hours in there with you. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, as long as you were hanging out. Some nights, by the time you were done, it would be so late that he would just stay the night in there.

So, it was no surprise when he accidentally left one of his shirts in your room. It was just a plain, black t-shirt. Nothing truly identifiable about it. Because of that, you had accidentally mistaken it for one of your shirts. 

Mammon however knew the difference. He had been looking for that shirt, not knowing where he had misplaced it.

He came to check for it in your room, barging in without knocking. “Oi, Y/N,” he began but stopped realizing the room was empty. He heard the faint sound of water running coming from the bathroom and realized you were taking a shower. He sat down on your bed, deciding to wait for you.

He scrolled on his D.D.D. for a while until the water turned off. Then a few minutes later, you came out of the bathroom - wearing his shirt.

Mammon felt his heart stop as his eyes were glued to you, his D.D.D. long forgotten about. You were surprised to see Mammon sitting in your room and you were about to say something when you noticed the deep red blush that coated his cheeks as he sat there looking incredibly flustered. “Mammon, are you okay?”

He wouldn't answer your question. Instead, he asked, “I-Is that my shirt?!” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the black shirt you were wearing, now recognizing it as his. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you told him.

Mammon was a mess. The shirt clung to your body in the best way possible, leading Mammon’s mind to wander to different images of you in that shirt…and out of it. Noticing his expression you said, “I can change.”

“N-No!” Mammon said, jumping off the bed now. That was the last thing he wanted. Realizing his slip-up, Mammon tried to quickly cover his tracks by saying, “Just be grateful that the great Mammon is letting ya wear his clothes!”

When he does get his shirt back, he immediately notices that it smells like you, something that makes him smile. He will never wear it again or wash it. 

Levi was never supposed to find out.

You were doing a cosplay outfit for one of your favorite animes. You had made several videos online and had gotten a decent amount of likes. You loved it and the amount of online support you got encouraged you to do more and more outfits.

Well, it just so happened that the character you were trying to portray had a specific blue and orange jacket. It was pertinent to the character; but, you had nothing similar. So, you began brainstorming ideas on what you could do to try and replicate the clothing item.

Then, it suddenly dawned on you. You had seen Levi wearing a jacket with the same colors. It wasn’t an exact match but it would be close enough. 

You took in a deep breath as you made your way to the coat closet in the House of Lamentation, praying it was there. 

To your luck, when you opened the door, amongst the miscellaneous other coats, it was hanging up in the closet. You let out a small breath of relief. You reached your hand out to take the jacket but hesitated. Levi would probably freak if he saw you wearing his jacket. But, you really needed it.

You debated the pros and cons of taking the jacket.. One on hand, if you went and asked Levi if you could borrow the jacket, he would most likely mumble something about normies before declining out of embarrassment. Then you would be out of luck. However, if you just borrowed the jacket for a few minutes - just to make the video. Then, you could put it back and he’d never know.

Deciding that was the best course of action, you quickly took the jacket and headed back up to your room. You put the jacket on as the finishing touch and looked in the mirror. Perfect.

You began recording the video, making sure to have the perfect lighting and angle. When you were done, you rewatched it, satisfied with the results. Alright, time to put Levi’s jacket back.

“Hey, Y/N, what-,” Levi suddenly came rushing into the room. Both of you froze in shock. Was that…his? “Levi!” you said, nervously looking at him. You had been caught.

“I can explain,” you told him as his eyes widened and a blush coated his cheeks. Not only were you wearing his clothes like some normie couple, but you looked good in it. 

“I was making a cosplay video and I needed to borrow it,” you admitted. “C-Cosplay?” Levi asked, stuttering out his words as he tried to comprehend the situation.

He let out a small scream as he recognized the character you were dressed up as. It was from one of the animes he recommended to you. His eyes then trailed to the video that was still playing on your D.D.D.

You slowly took off his jacket and handed it back to him, blushing slightly. “Sorry, for taking it without asking.”

Levi took the jacket, not sure what to say. So he said the first thing that came to his mind. “Y-You’re missing the sunglasses.”

What? Levi looked back at the video again and you understood. Of course! You were missing the sunglasses for the cosplay. You knew you were missing something!

“I-I have a pair that might match,” Levi said, offering you back his jacket. If you were going to make a cosplay video, he was going to be part of it.

“That would be great!” you replied. Levi quickly left to retrieve the sunglasses as you put his jacket back on. He returned within moments, handing you the sunglasses. You put them on the way the character would and Levi asked if he could help you record the video to which you were unbelievably grateful for. 

Levi was smiling the whole time he helped. He couldn’t believe how talented you were in your impression of the character. More importantly, he couldn’t believe you were wearing his clothes!

You were sitting in Satan’s room reading a book while you waited for him to return. The two of you had been spending the afternoon together. You were reading one of your favorites, and he had been doing the same until about a few minutes ago. He had just finished his book and told you he was going to go to the library to get another book. He promised he would return shortly but it had already been several minutes.

You were huddled up underneath a blanket, but you were still cold. It felt like Satan’s room had no heat whatsoever. You let out a small sigh as you tore your eyes from the page, glancing around the room for anything that could help you warm back up. 

You couldn’t see any blankets, but you noticed one of Satan’s sweaters sitting not too far from you. You let out a small sigh as you turned the idea over and over in your head. He wouldn’t be mad if you borrowed it, right? Not if you told him you were cold. 

You wanted to ask Satan’s permission, so you waited a few more minutes, but when you realized he wasn’t going to be coming back for a while - you decided to risk it. 

You quickly jumped out of the blanket and moved over to the sweater. You picked it up carefully, admiring the material before slipping it over your head. You noticed that it smelt like Satan, the scent making you feel like you were enveloped in his arms. 

You clutched the sweater a little closer to you before moving back to your spot and huddling underneath the blanket. You opened your book back up to the spot you were at and got lost in the fictional world once again.

You were so distracted by the words on the page that you didn’t notice when Satan entered the room. He was about to announce his presence when he noticed the familiar article of clothing that you were wearing. 

His cheeks turned pink as he looked at you wearing his sweater. You looked so adorable curled up under the blanket, reading a book, while wearing his clothes. It warmed his heart. Satan moved over to you, doing his best to hide his smile. 

He sat down next to you and you had completely forgotten that you were wearing his sweater. As if it was second nature to do so. “Did you find a book?” you asked him.

Satan nodded his head before telling you, “I’m really excited to see how this turns out.” You smiled in response, thinking he was talking about the book. He wasn’t so sure.

From now on, if you were in his presence and looked the slightest bit cold, he would immediately offer you his sweater, wanting to see you in his clothes more often.

Asmo was the resident fashion designer in the House of Lamentation. Whenever someone needed advice on an outfit, they immediately turned to him.; and, it was no secret why. His fashion advice was always on point. He could turn the dullest of outfits into a beautiful masterpiece. 

Tonight, Asmo had invited you to dinner at a new restaurant that had open. They asked him to attend with a plus one to bring more business. After all, he had tons of fans who would go to the restaurant just to see him.

Asmo had asked you to be his plus one, and you couldn’t have been more excited. Until he told you how many people would be looking at the two of you and taking pictures. Then, nerves set in as you began panicking about what to wear.

“Don’t worry! I’ll help you!” Asmo comforted, taking you by your hand to your room. He would have you put on a mini-fashion show for him, trying on multiple different outfits to try and find the right one. But, nothing you had quite fit the vibe of the restaurant. 

Asmo thought for a moment, until he came up with an idea. He had the perfect outfit for you! Asmo quickly brought you to his room, pulling out the outfit and handing it to you. He ushered you into his bathroom, telling you to try it on.

When you did, you were surprised at how well it fit - and how good it looked. You stepped out of the bathroom and at first, Asmo didn’t say anything. He just stared at you, a large smile spreading across his face.

“How do I look?” you asked after the silence began to grow awkward. Asmo tried to keep his composure as the thought of you wearing his clothes in public threatened to spark his sin. “That’s the one!” Asmo told you excitedly before helping you do your make-up. By the end of it all, the two of you looked like you had walked straight off the pages of a magazine. 

You made your way to the restaurant and when you got there, you were met with countless cameras. It seemed like everyone wanted to capture the restaurant’s grand opening.

Asmo grabbed your hand as the cameras started flashing, documenting yours and Asmo’s presence. He led you into the restaurant, his smile only growing larger as he thought about you wearing his outfit. The photos would forever document that you were wearing his clothes.

It was a complete accident. 

You had left the House of Lamentation while it was warm out, so you didn’t think to bring an umbrella. Who would?

Well, apparently, it was the biggest mistake you could have made because on your way home, you had found yourself in the middle of a rainstorm. You had no protection from it, the droplets soaking you from head to toe.

You began running to the House of Lamentation, letting out a sigh of relief as you made it to the front door. You quickly entered, thankful to be out of the storm. Then you heard someone behind you. “I see you forgot your umbrella.” You jumped as you turned around and saw Lucifer standing there.

A small blush coated your cheeks as you were embarrassed of the state you were currently in. Lucifer asked you to go to the laundry room so that you didn’t track water everywhere and you agreed, making a beeline towards the room.

When you got there, you quickly took off your wet clothes. You looked around the large room for your basket of laundry, confused when you couldn’t find it.

Then, you realized you had taken it to your room earlier to finish folding the clean clothes. Could this day get any worse.

So, here you were standing naked in the House of Lamentation's laundry room, contemplating how you ended up here. 

You had to come up with something quick before one of the brothers accidentally walked in on you. 

Looking to your right, you saw a large black t-shirt with a design on it. You quickly picked it up, examining it. You had seen Beel wearing it at some point. You held it up to you and noticed that it was so big compared to you. It would be enough to cover you until you could make it to your room. 

You quickly slipped Beel’s shirt on, double-checking that everything was covered before opening the door. All you had to do was make it to your room without being seen. Easy, right?

You turned out of the laundry room, immediately bumping into a large figure. The force caused you to stumble back as you felt two large arms steady you. You looked up to see Beel, looking at you like a confused puppy as he took in your appearance. 

You immediately began blushing as he asked, “Are you wearing my shirt?” Your mind tried to explain the situation, but your words merely came out as a series of stuttered words before you gave up. “It’s a long story,” you told him defeatedly.

Beel could see that you had a long day and he didn’t want to make it worse. So, he didn’t question you any further. Besides, he had to admit it made him feel flustered, seeing you in his clothes. He thought it was adorable how his shirt looked like it was going to swallow you up at any moment.

“Keep it as long as you need,” Beel told you with a small smile. You were thankful that Beel didn’t make things any more awkward as you pushed past him to go to your room.

Beel entered the laundry room to get the rest of his clothes and noticed your discarded clothes. His cheeks felt hot as realized that you were completely nude underneath his shirt. 

He did his best to push out intrusive thoughts as he made his way back to his room, his clean laundry in his arms.  

Revenge.

When it came to you and Belphie, you were sure that was the only reason you did anything anymore. 

Belphie liked to act like a brat and decided to do things he knew would frustrate you because he liked to see the way you would react.

So, he decided to start a prank war with you. But, you were not a pushover; and, you were going to make sure Belphie realized that once and for all. 

So, when he started pulling minor pranks. You let him think he was getting the best of you, until you had pulled a much larger prank on him. You had surprised Belphie with your creativity and your tenacity. But, he wasn’t ready to back down either.

Minor pranks turned into much more serious ones, the two of you so wrapped up in your war that you could hardly pay attention to anything else.

You had just pulled your latest prank of Belphie the day before. You were waiting anxiously for Belphie to pull his prank, constantly watching your back. 

He could strike from anywhere at any time. 

It was getting late, so you had decided Belphie wasn’t going to pull his prank today. You went to your bedroom to go to bed.

However, as soon as you opened the door to your room, you immediately regretted it as a large bucket off water poured on top of you. You let out a small gasp as your clothes were completely drenched. Really?!

You let out a small scoff as you immediately began thinking of retaliation pranks, making your way to your closet to change into a dry pair of clothes.

But, when you got there, you saw that the closet was completely empty. Belphie had taken all of your clothes.

You were fuming as you made your way to the Twin’s Room, bursting through the door to find Belphie in there by himself, lounging on his bed with a smile. 

“Where are my clothes?” you asked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Belphie replied, smirking back at you.

“All of my clothes are gone,” you stated, knowing full well that he was the culprit. “It looks like you’ll just have to sleep in your wet clothes then,” Belphie replied, turning his attention to his D.D.D.

You glared at him, anger coursing through your veins. He was not winning this one. After realizing Belphie wasn’t going to give you your clothes back, you came up with a new idea.

“Fine,” you told him, marching over to his closet. Belphie tore his eyes away from D.D.D to look up at you. “What are you doing?” he asked, watching your every move.

“If I can’t wear my clothes, then I’ll just have to wear yours,” you replied, stripping your shirt off before putting his on. The rage you were feeling was clouding your mind to the point where you didn’t even realize you had just undressed in front of Belphie.

Belphie most definitely realized though, the image of your half-naked body being seared into his mind as he looked at you in shock.

You then changed into a pair of Belphie’s sweatpants and his cheeks were stained pink as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Luckily, the shirt had covered most of what he would have seen. But, his imagination was running wild. 

You turned to face him, wearing his clothes and his eyes traced every inch of you. You wore a satisfied smirk as you locked eyes. “Good night,” you stated, walking back out of the twins room, a blush on your cheeks at the way Belphie was looking at you. You won.

[natalievoncatte]

“Kara?”

She doesn’t answer. Lena’s presence doesn’t surprise her; Kara Danvers always knows where Lena Luthor is, at least as long as there’s a way for the sound of her heart to find Kara’s ears, no matter how soft or faint it might be. In her ruminations Kara thinks on that before she speaks. Even when they were at their worst, when they were hurting each other in every way that mattered, Kara would stop and listen.

It was a secret and sacred thing, a transgression that she would never admit. She would confess to scoping Lena out with her x-ray vision first. She’d never actually done that, but she’d pretend-admit before confessing that, sometimes, she’d listen to Lena’s heart as she slept and drift off to its slow and steady beat.

They’re by the sea, at the Danvers family home. It’s been a year since Alex and Kelly married and a small, core group have gathered here in this house by the waves to celebrate the anniversary. It’s just Alex and Kelly of course and Esme, and Lena and Kara. And Eliza.

She lives here, after all.

Nia and Brainy are in town in an AirBnB, and they’ve been by the house but are mostly doing their own thing. They’ll marry soon, Kara thinks. They have that air about them, the way that Alex and Kelly did before the proposal.

There is a sense of finality to it all that has fallen over Kara like the shadow of a passing storefront, and she sits where she can watch the ocean waves roll in, chin propped on arms resting on knees, curled up and watching the waves reach the high water mark and roll back.

Lena stands beside her now, seemingly unconcerned that Kara hasn’t answered her. This happens a lot now. There are companionable silences. Lena spends half her days in Kara’s home, working from a laptop on Kara’s kitchen counter while Kara writes at the kitchen table.

A lot has happened. Cat Grant offered her the role of EIC at CatCo; Kara rejected it. She’d mad furtive plans to reveal her identity, then canceled them. She’d told Cat but asked that it end there and Cat had respected it, then gone on an esoteric retreat at an eel farm or… something. Kara still submitted articles to CatCo but on a freelance basis, and she was submitting more articles elsewhere lately.

Actually, very little had happened. Kara had more time to really write, now. She put on her suit and flew out the window less and less, being less needed.

Lena sits down next to her and assumes a similar pose. Kara can’t help but look at her; she has never been able to resist looking at Lena Luthor. That too has changed. She doesn’t steal a glance this time, she studies, lets her gaze linger. She looks at the way the light of the golden hour plays with Lena’s soft, easy beauty. Her sort-of-roommate skipped putting on makeup this morning and her hair is down in a mop of air-dried dark curls, some of them lazily riding the breeze around her head. Some of it falls across her face and Kara fights the urge to sweep it back with a soft brush of her fingers.

Lena is beautiful. The warm light makes her pale skin glow, brings out the sparkle in her blue-green eyes, as deep as the sea they watch. There is a soft playful hint of a smile on her lips, but her brows are furrowed.

Kara thinks back to the last time she spoke to J’onn. She told the man, the closest thing she had left to a father in the world, about how she was wearing the cape less and working more, about Lena, about how Alex and Kelly seemed to be moving on, both of them now retired from the insanity of her lives and Alex actually planning to practice medicine.

“That’s what happens,” J’onn told her. “Things pass. Stories end. The great deeds are done, the archenemies vanquished, the miracles all performed. After that is just life.”

Kara wasn’t sure what that meant. In her life -almost sixty years, that she’d experienced as less than thirty- she’d packed in the experiences of a hundred lifetimes. She’d watched her world die, found her family, lost them, made a new one. She’d loved and lost and she’d even died- twice. She’d spent two eternities in her own personal hell.

Kara lets out a slow sigh. She’s still looking at Lena.

They have to have this conversation. Kara just doesn’t know what to say or how to say it. The problem is obvious. Lena and Kara had arrived this morning a few hours after Kelly and Alex, and found that Eliza had, as to be expected, already planned out who was bunking where.

“Alex and Kelly have Alex’s old room,” Eliza had told them, after hugging Lena. “Esme has Kara’s old room, and you and Lena can take the guest bedroom.”

When the words left her foster mother’s mouth, Kara’s heart raced. If Lena thought anything of it, she gave no sign. Kara was on the verge of panic.

Eliza had given the two of them a room with one bed. A small room, a shared room that would give two people no privacy.

Does she think we’re…?

Kara had considered the possibility before. She wasn’t blind or oblivious to a fluttering heart beat or lip bites or long stares, but…

“I’m scared,” Kara says, and she looks away.

She can feel Lena looking at her, gaze unwavering.

“What about?”

Kara swallows hard. She doesn’t know if Lena realizes what Eliza has assumed yet, if she’s put it together. She must have, because she came out here looking for Kara. Kara hadn’t run away exactly, but she had fled. She needed to think.

“One thing I’ve learned,” Kara says, “is that once you say something, you can’t un-say it. You can’t change the truth once it’s been told.”

Lena nods softly. She knows. They learned the same lesson from the same cruel trick.

“Do you know why I held on to my secret for so long?”

“You always said it was to protect me, and I didn’t accept that. Then when…” Lena pauses heavily, “when we moved on, I never really asked again.”

Kara swallows. “I lied. I did it for me.”

Lena says nothing.

“I was scared. I was afraid that once I told you, it would be the same with you as it was with everyone else. Once people know Kara is Supergirl, then Kara stops being Kara. Kara is just Supergirl’s real name.”

Kara’s breath hitches. She glances at Lena, who watches intently.

“I was wrong. I should have known better. I should have trusted you.”

“Yes,” said Lena. “You should have. I should have tried to understand you. To understand why instead of projecting my own insecurities onto your choice. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I forgave you.”

Waves crash in the silence.

“I would forgive you anything.”

“Even beating the last potsticker?”

“I’m serious, Lena.”

Lena sighs. “Are we going to talk about it?”

“You saw the room.”

Lena nods.

“Your mom seems to be assuming that we share a bed,” Lena says.

Kara swallows hard.

“The last time I was with Nia, she asked when I’m selling the penthouse, because she assumed I’ve been planning to move into your loft.”

Kara groped her knees because her hands are shaking. She grips her knees to stop them but it makes her legs shake instead.

Lena shifts closer, scooting across the grass. She’s not touching Kara but it feels like she is. Her touch becomes and threatens. They share space, the sea breeze passing over them as one. Lena looks at her through a tangle of inky curls and her eyes are infinite, searching Kara for something.

“I have deemed a dream,” Kara whispers. “I fear if I dream it too deeply I’ll suddenly wake, and when I wake it’ll be gone the way dreams always are, and it will fade as fast as any dream. The thought of losing it hurts so bad it makes it feel like my chest is caving in.”

Kara looks at Lena now. She looks so young, she is young. Her power suits and makeup and air of command and defiance all make her seem almost matronly but here with Kara that mask is gone and beneath it is her true self, her secret self that not even their friends see, a young girl who’s never been young.

Just like Kara.

“What if you woke up and the dream came true?”

“Sometimes,” Kara admits, “I wonder if you’re real. I used to dream of things when I floated in my pod and they seemed so real…”

“It’s real, Kara,” Lena whispers, soft and breathy. “It’s real and I’m not going anywhere. Nothing has to change. It’s just going to evolve. I know what you want to say and I’ve been scared of it too. What you’re saying, I can feel it in my soul… when the Luthors took me in, I used to dream that my mom was alive. I’d wake up smelling breakfast and hearing her sing and when I realized it was just a dream it was like she died again every morning.”

“I love you.”

Lena stares at her. Kara hears Lena’s steady pulse flutter and begins to stammer.

“I know I’ve said it before. I mean I’m in love with-“

Lena presses a finger to her lips.

“I know. Stop telling me and show me.”

Kara freezes, not sure what she meant. Lena twisted languidly and leaned towards her. Kara freezes briefly and then just lets go, moving on instinct. Using a little strength she pulls Lena into her lap, gently touches her chin, and tilts her back a touch, to kiss her.

It is at once tentative and soft and absolutely explosive. Kara forces back tears, as Lena embraces her with all her strength, molding herself to Kara as if she means to climb inside her. For all her urgency, her kiss is just as delicate, just as tender and exploratory.

It is as it has always been. They compliment each other perfectly, moving together without a word needed, Kara breaks the kiss because Lena needs air and lowers her to the grass, fully on top of her now, brushing lose strands of hair back from her face to kiss her again and again and again, each kiss ah apology, each brushing of lips a lament for time lost.

They could have been doing this for years.

Lena arches under her, grinding hungrily, kissing her furiously. She moans softly as Kara’s hands find bare skin and Kara murmurs a Kryptonian prayer against her lips, and her thighs rise to bracket Kara’s hips.

Kara feels it all. The desire, the lust, the need, and above all the unbridled joy. This is no dream. It’s real. It’s happening. It’s…

“Eww,” Alex says.

Kara snaps up, acutely aware that her hand is halfway up Lena’s now-askew top, and that Lena has leg-locked them together. Lena lets her head fall back and peers up at Alex.

“Eliza sent me to find you two. Dinner is ready,” Alex sighs, then turns, muttering,

“Get a room. Sheesh.”

Lena cracks first, unleashing a gale of laughter.

“Let me go,” she protests.

Kara lets her…. briefly. Play-wrestling ensues, and Lena just know that Kara is letting her win as they roll in the grass, but it no longer matters. Lena is flushed and grass-stained and joy burns her in her eyes and-

“Come on!” Alex bellows.

Kara helps her up, and they head for the house.

[traumatrios]

the name of the game

pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader

wc… 2.3k

summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?

warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional

josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt

otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️

Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely.��

He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged. 

His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.

He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.

Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town. 

Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment). 

Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.

But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine. 

The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.

Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.

But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.

It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him. 

The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?

How could he never notice you.

Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.

The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.

Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.

Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?

Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.

The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy. 

Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.

“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.

“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.

Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends. 

“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.

This got you to turn back around again.

Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever. 

One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer. 

“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.” 

Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?

You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.

Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.

In Cape, everyone was a regular. 

It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.

When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.

He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.

You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.

That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.

He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.

And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.

As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.

“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip. 

“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”

Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.

You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.

“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes. 

Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?

He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back. 

“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.

“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?

You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more. 

“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.

“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.

But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.

Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming. 

You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade. 

Were you opposed? Not entirely. 

“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.

“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips. 

You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.

Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.

“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.

How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.

When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face. 

Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.

Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose. 

Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road. 

When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk. 

He liked how your game was turning out.

traumatrios, 2024

divider by @saradika-graphics !

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) ch3

“So, what’s your deal?” Jason asked, when Danny’s mouth was full of food. “You’re dead, I notice.”

Danny choked. He gave Jason a betrayed look with big blue eyes, a hand clapped over his mouth to contain any mess.

Jason smirked back, unrepentant. “I died once,” he shared. “Got better though.”

“You got be-”

“You were surprised about what it’s like to fight humans,” Jason continued. It was hard not to laugh at the confused outrage on his date’s face. “So that implies you fight someone else? You’re fighting ghosts or something? Or do ghosts have some kinda natural enemy? Vampires or some shit?” He might have been a bit flippant but sue him, it sounded a lot more magical than his daily life.

Danny opened his mouth and no words came out. He looked like he was in pain when he grudgingly admitted, “I do have a lot of beef with this one vampire guy, Vlad.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. That was such a vampire guy name, what the hell?

“No, no, it’s not funny,” Danny protested. He waved his hands wildly, flinging a bit of bean from his burrito across the roof they were perched on. “He’s also a ghost- well, he’s a half of a ghost, but that’s a long story from when he was in college.”

“The half-ghost vampire has an undergraduate degree?” Jason interrupted. He needed to know what this fucker studied. Was it like, social science? Literature? Theater? That might explain Danny’s implied belief that a theme was an inherent rogue thing. No, wait, business administration?

Danny gave him a withering look. “He’s got a Doctorate.”

Jason flung his hands up in defeat against the world. That made more sense than an undergraduate degree somehow. There was just something about the type of person who got a Doctorate that made them, you know, creeps.

‘Or maybe they’ve just got enough specialized knowledge to act on latent creepiness,’ he mused. ‘...Shit, am I developing an anti education stance? Can I blame this on Crane and Quinn?’

Danny was continuing with his explanation of the vampire’s background. Every word made it nuttier. “He’s a scientist, actually, and the mayor of a small town. And he lives in a cheese mansion.”

This was a sharp divergence from vampire stereotypes and he needed to know everything.

“Is the mansion made of cheese?” Jason interrupted. He was leaning in, intent on every word. Why was this vampire the most interesting man in the world?

He got a weird look for that. “No, it just belonged to the Dairy King,” Danny said, like it was everyday knowledge that you could expect a layperson to have.

“Of course, the Dairy King,” Jason said wisely.

"Enough about me though!" Danny flailed a bit. "How did you get my uh, number?"

Ah. Jason took a big bite to delay while he chose his words.

There was no point in trying to hide his vigilante identity from Danny. The guy probably didn't even understand the concept.

So he might as well top whatever story Danny had.

"The bat guy who taught me all about being a child soldier got grabbed by this group of loser cultists, right?" He gestured in a way that did absolutely nothing to illustrate the situation.

Danny cocked his head. "This is off to a good start."

"They tried to sacrifice him. You gotta remember him - big ugly guy, dressed in black and gray, underwear on the outside of his pants in a way that's never been cool?"

Danny didn't seem to have words, but he lifted his hands to make two ears on top of his head.

He pointed with both hands. "That's the guy," Jason agreed. "At the time, we didn't know what kind of sacrifice it was. We were thinking more along the lines of blood sacrifice?" He shrugged as if the idea of B biting it meant nothing to him.

Danny made a pffft sound of air escaping between his lips. "I tossed him back." He flailed in place. "I- isn't- wasn't that- that was a while ago," he stuttered. "I kinda forgot about him."

"...You got offered a cape, then a few weeks later a bunch of others, and you didn't make a mental connection?" Jason checked.

Danny flushed. "Time doesn't match up between the realms and anyway, I'm really busy!" He crossed his arms and accidentally knocked over his drink. "I've got a lot going on in my life. Anyway, for a ghost?" Danny blew a raspberry. "I'm sorry to break your heart, but none of you dress wild enough to stand out in the Infinite Realms. We've got robot dudes and child pirates and giant eyeballs and stuff." He gave Jason a smug look. It was cute.

Jason acted on impulse and reached out to ruffle Danny's hair. He realized what he was doing too late. His hand froze above Danny's head.

Danny tilted his face up and made an inquisitive sound.

"There was a bug." Jason pulled his hand back. What was wrong with him? He didn't go touching other people just because they were cute. "It flew off."

"...Right," Danny said. "You're being very normal." He seemed delighted by this, the little gremlin. "So. You were a child soldier too?"

Jason nearly fell off his perch.

Danny shrieked a laugh and pointed. "Ha!" He crowed. "I win! I shocked you first!"

"There wasn't a competition!" Jason lied. His face was bright red. It was too late to save face. "What do you mean too?" He demanded. "Were you a child?"

"Somewhat recently," Danny said. He gave Jason a catlike smile. "Adults come from teenagers, teenagers come from kids, kids come from babies. Do you need to know-"

"I know where babies come from." Jason cut him off. He tried to look off put at the way Danny laughed at him but fuck it, it was funny, in a dumb way. "Of course you were a kid, that was silly of me," he admitted. "Ghosts are made from humans, right?"

"Well yes, but actually no," Danny said, philosophical. "Some of us. I was. Other ghosts are made from like, vultures, or ideas."

It kinda seemed like ghost taxonomy was more complicated than he was ready to get into at the moment. Those two things were pretty fuckin disparate.

Jason sighed heavily and picked up his food again, just to have something to do with his hands.

A thought occurred. He didn't let it show on his face but he felt sick to his stomach.

Danny was dead. Danny said he'd been a child recently, and a child soldier.

Someone needed their ass kicked.

Danny: we are having such a whimsical time!

Jason: sirens screaming

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

Chocolate Princess ♡

Willy Wonka x reader

Pt 2

Part One

Description - Y/n Ficklegruber can't help but become enamoured with the spectacularly peculiar man stood in the middle of the galleria.

Word count - 1.3k

Warnings - fluff, fluff and more fluff ♡

a/n - little NYE present for you all!

Masterlist

--♡--

At exactly 9:51, I excitedly leapt out of my bed already dressed and ready to go. It was a crisp night so I elected for one of my thicker dresses which reached my knees, wooly tights, my coat and matching small cape. Both fur lined with pom poms ending the ties of the cape. All of it a familiar shade of green, a shade which lined nearly every inch of my wardrobe. It seemed even the choosing of my fashions were up to my fathers input.

I crept out of my room and down the stairs, only feeling safe once my gloved hands had managed to lock the mansion’s ornate door.

I skipped through town, skidding to a stop at the fountain as the large clock struck the hour of 10. I peered all around, my smile beginning to droop at the emptiness all around. However, a crunching of ice beneath boots pricked up my ears. So I began to walk the circumference of the fountain. Unbeknownst to me, another on the opposing side of the water feature had begun to do the same. My pace picked up as it seemed the footsteps would retreat at the same speed I would follow. Until finally I managed a jog and practically lunged at the burgundy coat and took it in my grasp. Willy jumped around. But when our eyes met, everything became still once again.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

We spoke together in whispered breaths.

“Are you ready to begin?” I went to sit down on the fountains edge but was stopped by Willy. Who proceeded to produce a blanket from his briefcase which he then layed down upon the icy stone. He took my hand in his and allowed me to sit once again.

“You are a true gentleman.” I teased in my poshest voice.

“Nothing but the best for the finest lady in all the land.” He jumped up onto the fountain and announced to the unknowing night air.

“Sh.” I reprimanded through my own giggles as I tugged him back down, my smile betraying any semblance of sterness.

“You don’t want anyone to know you’re out here?” His eyes drooped as his smile faltered. “You don’t want to be seen with me.” I tightly clasped both his hands in mine so he would be forced to look at me.

“Even if the whole world was watching us right now, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Okay?” He softly nodded.

“Now lets begin.” I produced a piece of paper from my pocket. “I thought we should start with the alphabet.”

I handed it to him and would direct his finger to the letter in question each time I taught him a new one.

--♡--

It took a long time for Willy to even get the grasp of the alphabet and when the clock struck midnight, I wasn’t even sure he was there.

“How about we just try it out.” I turned the paper over and wrote down the word ‘CAT’. “Can you tell me how this word sounds?”

He took the paper and began to turn it upside down as if trying to determine in which way he could make it work. “Not a bit of it.”

I giggled but stopped when his face showed he thought I was laughing at him. I took the paper from him and used my pen to circle the A. “You see this one is a vowel.” And then I circled the C and the T. “And these are consonants.”

“All I’m hearing is owls and nonsenants.” I chuckled sweetly at his ability to turn anything round and make it sweeter for the world to swallow. Seeing his tired face I decided to set my teaching supplies down. I stroked my hand over his weathered skin feeling the weight of the days struggles plastered over his face. Although this was fun and exciting for me, the poor boy had been through enough and he didnt need some girl trying to live her fruitless dreams of adventure through him.

There was a silence between us until he broke it. “I’m never going to get it?”

“Don’t say that! Reading takes time, it isn’t something you learn overnight.”

“You mean, you were going to give me more lessons?” He looked at me in awe that oozed naivety. I couldn’t help how I continued to stroke his face.

“Of course.” I suddenly became aware of my hands and their minds of their own. I righted myself back to propriety. “Anyways, reading is more about exposure. The more you read the better you become. And the better you become, the more you can read. It’s quite beautiful really.”

He gently tapped the side of my head. “With the amount of smarts you’ve got crammed up in this little head, well I wouldn’t be surprised if you were able to read every book in the world!”

I giggled embarrassed. “I wouldn’t know.”

“What do you mean you wouldn’t know?”

“Father stopped my studies when I was only 18. And he won’t allow me to go further. He won’t even allow me to spend my days at the library. I’m forced to be in his chocolate shop every hour of every day.”

He thought to himself. “Doesn’t sound so bad–” I shot him a quick glare. “-If you’re me! But that’s because making chocolate is my dream.”

“All I ever dream about now is being able to go off and learn. I want to read every book ever written, see every study ever done. Cram my mind full till it hurts with every single thing in the world there is to know.” I had risen excitedly and began to flap my hands about animatedly. I realised how much I had let myself express and became embarrassed under invisible eyes.

Yet the pair transfixed on my figure, held nothing but love.

“I guess it’s quite a silly dream to have.”

He rose and joined me, attaching our hands once more.

“All great ideas started with a dream, that’s what mama used to say.”

“What a beautiful thought. She must be a spectacular woman.”

“She was.” My lips parted to offer something more to the moment we were having but I was rudely interrupted by the ominous stroke of one.

“I’m sorry, I must go. Daddy sleepwalks when he eats too much chocolate and I must be there to help him out.” I hurriedly collected my things and returned to where Willy stood, still locked in our previous stance. Looking up once more into his eyes, I decided my fate and pulled him into a soul crushing kiss that had the touch of a butterfly. We parted only slightly, each wanting to return.

“I’m sorry I truly must leave.”

“Wait.” He stopped my retreating form. “Please accept this.” He returned to his suitcase and began to rummage.

“Willy, don’t be ridiculous do not pay me!”

“I wouldn’t thank you with something as common as money. No, I must show my gratitude with the only thing I own with any worth. My recipes. Open.” He gestured to my mouth and I willingly obliged. He placed a dainty rose shaped chocolate onto my awaiting tongue and I eagerly consumed it.

“They just get better each time.” I spoke, rather unladylike, through a mouthful of melting chocolate. I gave him a final kiss on his cheek and began to lightly skip back home.

--♡--

A quiet melody joined my journey home.

For a moment, life has never tasted so sweet. For a moment, I’m enriched with possibility. He is exciting and new, But be careful and think it all through.

Home is where you’re secure, It’s safe and you’re pure. But how long can you ignore it. That your heart is melting like chocolate.

--♡--

[shunsuiken]

HOW THE GENSHIN MEN ASK FOR YOUR ATTENTION

pairing(s). kaeya, diluc, zhongli, childe, kazuha, thoma, ayato, alhaitham, cyno x gn!reader

genre. fluff (the boys are clingy <3) + they are all so in love with u god wtf get a room pls + minor spoilers for ayato’s story quest kinda (saying this just in case but idt it spoils that much) 

wc. 300-500 words for each character 

an. i literally forgot this piece existed… last time i edited it was 2021 can u believe omg 💀 (i unearthed this thing two months ago or sth) originally it was dckz + ayato, kazuha and thoma but now i’ve added alhaitham and cyno too + also it is SO SO canon that kaeya calls reader snowflake yup yup! also zhongli is so clingy here dear god oh to have this man yearn for my attention <//3

kaeya alberich

kaeya had been sitting in his seat for far too long (it’s really only been a minute) and decided that he needed some fresh air. being captain of the knights of favonius really took so much time out of his beautiful day. he sighed and easily reattached his fur cape onto his collar with one hand before he began to seek you.

he strode down the streets of mond, greeting the locals with his charming smile. but there was still no sign of you yet! perhaps if he took one more round in the city centre he’d find you…

“i think that’s it for me, thanks blanche!” you were about to take your bag of goods from the counter when you felt two arms snake around your waist. “huh—”

you turned around confused until you saw who it was, a relieved sigh then leaving your lips.

“hello snowflake,” he greeted you with a smile reserved only for you.

“kaeya, hi.” your face brightened at the sight of your lover, hands resting on his biceps. “what are you doing here?” you could feel his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, a habit you noticed he did every time his hands were on you.

he made a melodramatic sigh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “my love, i’ve been looking for you everywhere.” he felt himself recharging with every second you were with him. “my day is beautiful again now that i’m with you, what are you doing here anyway?”

“i was buying things for… dinner,” you said the last part quietly, cheeks warming because you’ve never really cooked for kaeya before but the idea happened to cross your mind earlier in the afternoon, hence why he found you at the general goods shop. “wanna join me?”

“for dinner?” kaeya removed himself from your neck, raising a brow. “are you going to cook for us both?” he asked, tone ending in a teasing lilt. his voice made your knees melt.

you purse your lips in an embarrassed manner, nodding your head. “if you’re free after—”

“now, now—” kaeya shook his head, swiftly taking your bag of goods from the counter before snaking his free arm around your waist again. “—you know i always have time for you, snowflake.”

diluc ragnvindr

you were by the couch in front of a fire, reading through a book that’s caught your attention for the past hour. it was usually around this time that you would visit diluc in his office to ask for cuddles but… you never came.

thus diluc made the courageous decision to seek your attention. he made his way out of his office and down the staircase, spotting your figure sitting on the couch. your nose was so far up the pages in your book that you didn’t even hear his footsteps.

“have you had dinner yet, my dear?” your eyes snapped away from the book, revealing your face and warm cheeks to diluc. you shut your book softly, not forgetting to bookmark the page you left off.

“i haven’t, i was so caught up in my book i didn’t realise,” you said, naturally not realising what diluc was here for. he was a tad bit unimpressed with how you forgot to visit him; he was expectantly waiting for your cuddles, staring at his office door and focusing on the sounds outside to identify which footsteps were yours. but none of them were.

“was it the book you bought from our journey in liyue?” diluc inquired, casually plopping his head on your lap. his messy ponytail became even messier but that was fine, he knew you would offer to redo it for him later.

your fingers acted on their own as they gently carded through his soft crimson locks. “it was,” you replied in a whisper. then his eyes suddenly locked with yours and it startled you so you had to ask what was wrong.

“is that why you didn’t visit my office for the past three hours?” he deadpanned at you, jokingly of course. when the man discovered that you had grown fond of this reaction, he couldn’t help but make the face more often.

you laughed and the corners of diluc’s lips tugged upwards in a smile. but what caught him off guard as he was lovingly gazing up at you was when you began pinching his cheeks.

“your expressions are so cute, if only everyone else could see them.” diluc tried to conceal his blush, clearly working to no avail because you seemed to laugh louder as he averted his gaze elsewhere.

“i won’t forget to visit you next time.” you leaned down to plant a kiss on his forehead, grinning in satisfaction when diluc’s cheeks completely camouflaged with his hair.

zhongli

zhongli was in need of something from you. as he sat in his usual spot at third-round knockout, his head could not stop turning about, perking up to the slightest calls from one person to another. where were you? he normally saw you running around this area at this time.

but of course! on the day zhongli needed something from you, you coincidentally weren’t around. if the adeptus had learnt anything during his time on teyvat, it was that the world really knew how to test one's patience. he sighed inwardly, about to revert his attention back to iron tongue tian until he saw the figure of your head amongst the crowd of people walking around.

the poor adeptus almost spit out the tea he was supposed to swallow, and after apologising to nobody for his poor etiquette, he stood up and rushed over to you.

“y/n! y/n, hello,” zhongli greeted you warmly with that smile on his face that made him look like a happy puppy that found his owner.

your expression softened at the familiar call of your name, knowing immediately who the voice belonged to. grinning, you thought it was adorable. which made you reciprocate his energy.

“my dear, the look on your face is making me believe you’ve done something audacious.” you raised a brow, looking at him up and down suspiciously.

zhongli’s heart churned, this was it! the look that did something to his poor heart made him unable to contain the expression that crept up to his face. he was waiting the whole day for you! and now that you’re here giving him what he wanted, he just couldn’t quell the excitement surging through his veins.

was he blushing? was he just hot from the weather? whatever the look on his face was, you were still absolutely stunned. never in your time with zhongli had he made a face like this before. 

you quite liked it.

“hm…” you tilted your head, looping your arm with zhongli’s. he heard the playful tone in your voice and he was living for it. “it seems that mr zhongli of the wangsheng funeral parlour is in need of some entertainment. might i borrow you this afternoon, dearest?”

zhongli nodded his head (with such enthusiasm too, there were practically stars in his eyes!). his smile was accompanied by the light blush dusted across his cheeks, arm tingling when it came in contact with yours. “of course dear, my time is yours.”

childe

you were by wanmin restaurant, chatting it up with xiangling about her newest dish you were just obsessed with. you wanted to order it again for takeaway but those incoming footsteps from behind you were quite concerning. so you turned around in curiosity because why is someone running to you at such speed?

“my looove!” oh.

you chuckled, opening your arms to accept childe into your embrace. “now what are you doing here?” you greeted as he nuzzled his face into your neck, feeling him softly exhale on your skin while his arms wrapped snugly around your waist.

“i’m not allowed to come see you when i want to? that’s so unfair of you.” childe pouted, removing himself from your neck.

“thought you’d be out ‘til the evening so i wasn’t expecting you,” you reply, briefly combing his hair down from its usual wildness. “oh! have you returned from a spar?” you bid xiangling a goodbye before heading out with ajax.

“i have! and…” the bright look on his face quickly dissipated when he showed you his upper arm after rolling up a bit of his sleeve. “i got just a little carried away in the process.” ajax looked at you with his blue eyes that feigned pain. “fix me up?” he suggested meekly.

who were you to say no to that? of course you would help your lover patch up his wounds. so after walking over to your home, you sat ajax on a chair and told him to stay put to which he replied with an animated nod of the head.

you returned with a first aid kit, quickly dabbing alcohol on his cut before bandaging him up. normally ajax never came to you with any wounds after sparring so this was a little unusual—but he was human. he would get hurt.

while you were in your little bubble of thoughts, childe was practically vibrating in his seat. the toothy grin on his face brighter than the sun that shone upon liyue, he finally had you all to himself now! and you were patching him up, these results were much better than he could’ve imagined. he’s always wished of being aided by you, since your touch was so gentle and warm.

he leaned into you, placing his forehead on your shoulder. and like a kitten he nuzzled his face into your neck. “missed you,” he mumbled, although muffled you understood what he said. pulling him further into your embrace, you let your warmth surround him. “missed you too.”

kaedehara kazuha

kazuha sits idly by a tree in liyue, whistling softly to greet the sight of the serene horizon. the sun rises gradually and soon, so will you. he lets the leaf he was playing with fly with the morning breeze, getting up to greet you a good morning.

kazuha knows just how far the sun has to hover above the horizon to know when you begin stirring out of your slumber. he enters the inn and takes the staircase to your room you booked, opening the door to find you stretching on the bed.

“good morning, my love.” his sweet voice makes your head snap upwards, your expression brightening at his presence. “morning, kazu.” you open your arms, inviting him in for a hug and he plays right into your little trap when you pull his body on top of yours.

kazuha yelps in surprise, face smacking into your pillow as he’s slotted right beside your face. he lifts his head up, shaking his head slightly in fondness. his baby hairs tickle your cheek. “you��ve just woken up but you already have the energy to play tricks like this.”

you snake your arms around his waist, pulling him flat against your body. “that’s what makes life fun, kazu.” you nuzzle your face into his warm neck. “but i might have to cut this moment short, boss needs me at the restaurant.”

what. kazuha blinks owlishly at nothing in particular. what do you mean your boss needs you at work right now? no. nope! kazuha doesn’t like the turn of events. he swears today is your day off!

“i thought you had the day off?” he raises a brow at you, trying not to sound too disappointed.

“i was supposed to but boss came over last night when you went to buy us dinner and practically begged on her knees for me to go to work.” your voice is laced with amusement as you remember the look on your boss’ face. “apparently two other employees had last minute plans they couldn’t cancel.” you remove your hands from his waist to place them on his cheeks.

kazuha doesn’t normally make such expressions so when your eyes land on his face, you can’t help but coo. “well we may stop by for some breakfast before i leave.”

his expression doesn’t improve.

you purse your lips. you’re trying your absolute hardest to contain your laughter. “i’ll ask boss to give me another day off? so i’ll have two days off to spend with you.”

kazuha shakes your hands off his cheeks so he can nuzzle his face into the juncture of your neck. “your boss should learn to keep her promises.”

thoma

“y/n! would you like me to make those pastries from yesterday?” thoma’s face pops up from behind the book you’re reading. you smile and put the book down momentarily.

“that would be love—”

“oh oh! what about those cakes from two days ago? i recall you saying that it was delicious for afternoon tea or i could make you—”

you stifle a laugh. to be honest, it has been a while since you two met up due to your busy schedules so his hyper attitude right now is understandable. but you don’t think you can have a proper conversation like this so you decide to mess with him. pulling a business smile on your face, you say, “good afternoon, commissioner.”

“h- huh?! good afternoon, my lord—” but when thoma lifts his head to greet his lord, he isn’t there. his brows furrow, whipping his head around to see the mischievous look on your face.

“y/n! that wasn’t funny.” he blushes at your teasing, pouting unintentionally in response.

you chuckle, raising your fingers to pinch both of his cheeks. “you can be so naive around me. it's adorable, thoma.”

the use of his name makes him gulp embarrassingly loud. in his kneeling position, he holds onto your wrists that now cup his warm cheeks. “i- i was just wondering if you wanted any cakes! my lord said i’m free for the rest of the afternoon so i thought—” thoma exhales shakily from your intense gaze before continuing, “—i thought i would be of service to you today.” he ends his sentence with a smile, bringing his gaze to meet yours.

your heart pounds in your ears. maintaining composure around your beloved one soon became difficult after time passed. but you learnt that letting your walls down for him was worth it.

“then let’s make those cakes together. didn’t you say you would help me improve my baking skills?” you take his hand from your wrist to guide both of you on your feet.

he nods his head like an obedient puppy. “i did!”

“then let’s head to my kitchen.”

kamisato ayato

it is rare for kamisato ayato to leave the main office. oftentimes he is drowned under paperwork that needs him to provide his official signature or input for upcoming events. however, ever since you came around, even the commissioner’s most capable retainer finds himself at a loss when in search of his lord.

the only reason ayato even leaves his office is because he hears the echo of your voice entering the estate after your afternoon walk around the city with your ladies in waiting. with swift movement, ayato relocates his work from his office into yours.

when you slide the shoji open, you flinch at the sight of the figure who’s been awaiting your arrival for the past hour (ayato’s distracted himself by busying his mind with official documents). 

“welcome home, darling,” ayato greets you while his gloved fingers continue to sign pages with his brush, ink gliding over the documents smoothly.

heat rises to your face at the pet name. you promptly dismiss your ladies in waiting before they can see the expression on your face, maintaining it to the best of your abilities until they are gone.

“have you been here this whole time?” you slide the shoji shut behind you.

ayato raises his gaze from the document to flash you a smile. “yes i have.”

unfortunately for him, you don’t miss the cheeky glint in his eye. sitting down beside him, you scold him jokingly with a pointed finger. “tsk, you’re lying. i just saw thoma bring out your tea set from your office.”

“oh.” the single syllable word is emphasised by his lips that form an ‘o’ shape.

you don’t realise you’re holding in a laugh until it bursts out of you at the sight of him acting like this. ayato’s posture relaxes as your laughter fills your office. he puts his brush down to pull you closer to him so he can lay his forehead on your shoulder while an arm wraps around your waist.

“did you happen to bump into someone on your afternoon walk?” ayato’s eyes flutter shut, fatigue finally hitting him when your warm palm rises to caress his cheek.

strands of his hair tickle your chin as you reply, “yes, i met lady hiiragi near uyuu restaurant. she said she was waiting for one of her retainers.”

“you mean you spotted lady hiiragi on a secret outing with sir kujou.” ayato doesn’t fail to correct you, the corner of his lip rising in amusement.

you gasp knowingly, patting your lips to correct your words. “indeed that is what i saw.” you nod with a smile. “no wonder she was wearing such an atrocious looking kimono and styled her hair… like that. she was disguising herself.”

ayato lifts his head to meet your gaze and jokes, “i can only imagine what sir kujou was wearing.” 

your eye twitches, a grimace appearing on your expression. “i’d rather not.”

the yashiro commissioner can only chuckle at your reaction. ah, he just loves it when you’re around.

alhaitham

the akademiya’s scribe is a rather quiet man. he only opens his mouth when necessary. for example, when his roommate, who cannot stop blabbering about a rather irritating client, comes waltzing through the hall, disturbing the peace of the scribe’s reading time, does he open his mouth to shoot him a sharp “shut up.”

another example is when a certain knock on the door is heard and kaveh goes to answer it.

“kaveh, hello! is alhaitham home?” it’s you.

the scribe is on his feet immediately. the blond yelps when he is shoved out of the way to make space for your lover, who greets you with a gentle smile. the book from earlier is now left disregarded on the chair.

“my dear, you’re here.”

alhaitham finds it difficult to stay quiet around you. there’s just always something to say when you’re right next to him. like right now as he offers his arm out for you to hold, before promptly announcing that he and you will take a stroll around the city. kaveh only gapes at the unusual behaviour of his roommate. poor man can never get used to it. you offer him an apologetic smile before leaving with alhaitham.

you sigh, patting on your lover’s arm scoldingly. “be nicer to that roommate of yours, did you see the stunned look on his face?”

“don’t look at his face, dear, it’ll stress you out,” alhaitham says bluntly as he takes the path towards treasures street.

you have to cover your own mouth before a sound so unbecoming can leave it.

alhaitham takes pride in how he can make you laugh. he loves watching your eyes twitch and how you purse your lips to contain the boisterous reaction, how you have the self-control to maintain your composure in public despite wanting to cackle loudly like a maniac. knowing he can prompt such a reaction out of you makes him huff proudly when he’s alone with his ear pieces in.

but right now, his ear pieces are turned off. he finds himself carrying the conversation as you and him find seats in the audience, waiting for a scheduled performance hosted by the zubayr theatre. he keeps you close to him as you squeal in excitement when the lights dim for nilou to appear on the stage.

alhaitham finds himself speechless when he yearns for your presence. the most he can do is pull up that smile on his face and pray to lesser lord kusanali that you’ll see the faint twinkle in his eye that is telepathically asking for your attention. the man doesn’t even realise he’s doing the latter, that’s just his unconscious bodily response.

fortunately, the dendro archon is of kind nature, and what archon of kind nature would ignore the prayer of one of her most loyal followers?

cyno

the general mahamatra comprehends his silent need for your presence when he takes a quiet stroll through caravan ribat. he misses you and your curiosity—your hand that grabs his wrist to take him to a stall that has trinkets and things that have caught your eyes or how you’re so quick on your feet to run to the next thing that shines in your field of vision.

cyno stops in his tracks, staring at the path that would show him out of caravan ribat and into the greenery that leads towards the city.

he could leave right now.

you know your lover has a demanding job so you obviously don’t get in his way with distractions. but when your head snaps to your right side at the sight of your lover donned in his usual attire, walking towards you with a rather intriguing look on his face, you have to burst his bubble of personal space.

“cyno, what are you doing here? i thought you had something to do at caravan ribat.” cyno only smiles gently, offering his hand out for you to take, which you do.

“work is finished,” he tells you, bringing you closer. “and i missed your company, my love.” he whispers lowly, gaze pouring into yours.

you raise your brows, gulping, making you break eye contact with him to stare at the interesting potted-plant behind him instead. “cyno it’s only been four days since we last saw each other.”

“that does not change anything.” cyno tilts his head to find your pretty eyes again, a crease appearing in between his brows as he stifles a laugh. “my love, my eyes are here.” and he only pulls you by your waist when you act like you don’t hear him.

he’s so insufferable.

“hm, it’s a lovely day today, how about a round of TCG with me?”

your head snaps in his direction. an expression of disbelief takes over your face completely. “are you serious? you come back after four days and you ask me if i wanna play—”

a smug look grows on cyno’s face as you complain. then it clicks in your head and you click your tongue, folding your arms and looking away. “go and play with your friends then, i can just go to treasure’s street and—”

“oh come now, love, you know that was a joke, right? or do you want me to explain what my true intentions are? because if you would like to know then i’m happy to mmph—” cyno grins into the kiss you give him, effectively shutting him up. perhaps this is what he wanted in the first place.

you pull back, heat rushing to your cheeks at your own actions but really, you miss your lover. so that seemed to be the most appropriate thing to do at that moment.

“dinner. we will have dinner.” cyno relishes in the way you grab his hand, squeezing it as you lead him towards puspa cafe.

[lesservillain]

v. i want to hold the hand inside you

summary: a collection of moments through the holiday season. also a little bit of insight into eddie's pov. cw: smut (not with eddie), male masturbation, sexual fantasies, two idiots in love trope, eddie's mental anguish a/n: hi i'm back. missed you all and this series. hope it lives up to the hype. around 12.5k words. please continue reading after the fic for an important message regarding this series.

Shuffling down the stairs, you're greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying in the kitchen. The grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you’d eaten way too much candy the night before, and that real food was much needed if you were going to get through the day.

When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were expecting to be greeted by the master chef Charles at the stove. But instead you were greeted by Tonya’s beautiful, slightly confused face. With a rag slung over her shoulder and spatula in hand, you watched her attempt to flip what looked like a very, very fried egg.

“You need some help?” You ask. Tonya jumps, hand on her chest as she catches herself. Clearly she had been in the zone, focused on the task at hand. Although, that didn't seem to keep help her in her food making endeavors.

“Jesus, can you be a little louder when you walk in the room next time?” 

“Sorry Tonnie,” you laugh, moving around her to get a drink from the fridge. “Been working on walking around as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Ed—everyone up when I’m working.”

Tonya's whole demeanor suddenly shifts. After plating the eggs and setting them aside, she turns her whole body to face you. Your eyes go wide as she takes the stance you know so well; the one she takes before she’s about to lecture you.

“While you’re working?” She asks, an eyebrow quirked in a suspicious fashion.

“Y-yeah…" you respond, not liking the way she starts to slowly saunter towards you. "Okay, can we skip the games, please? What’s wrong?”

“Why was there a red cape in your car last night?”

You feel like the room is going to spin. Not wanting to fuss with it you had thrown the costume cape in the back seat when you left Eddie’s last night. By the time you got all of your overthinking in, you’d completely forgotten to grab it and bring it inside. 

“Wha—I, uh—”

Tonya says your name to cut off your babbling. 

“If you wanted to go out and spend Halloween with Sam you could have just told me that.”

“What? Oh, god no.” Your nose scrunches in offense at the mere suggestion until you remember that it’s probably normal to want to spend time with the guy you’re dating. “I mean…I didn’t spend Halloween with Sam.”

“Okaaaay?” She draws the word out, head bobbing as she waits for you to explain yourself. You breath in, looking at her carefully before exhaling with a sigh.

“Promise me you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions.” 

Tonya says your name with a serious tone. You can see the anger starting to brew in her, and you can only hope that once you tell her everything that’s been going on for the last two months that she’ll understand. The need to rip the band aide off was becoming more apparent, especially when you needed her guidance on some of the thinking you had done.

“Promise me?” You say again, not backing down.

“Ugh, fine.” She walks over to the table and sits down, motioning for you to take the seat across from her. 

“So, I think the first thing I need to clear up is that…I don’t actually have a night job. At least, not in the sense that I’m getting paid. It’s a volunteering position.”

You watch the way her mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as she expresses all her unspoken words with her face. But, she doesn’t say anything so you keep going.

“It’s something that I signed up for at the very beginning of the semester. Granted, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing...but the person I’m taking care of needed overnight care and I just—I couldn’t say no, Tonnie.”

Air blows out between her lips like steam, and you can tell you need to get the rest of the information out to her before she can’t hold it in anymore.

“The reason why I even hid any of this from you is because the person I’ve been taking care of was turned down by everyone else at sign ups…because he was a murder suspect.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hands wave in front of her and she shakes her head. “I’m really hoping that I did not hear you right. Because there’s no way you’re telling me that, you, of ALL PEOPLE, have been spending the last two months babysitting a MURDERER?!”

“He didn’t actually murder anyone!” You shout back. Tonya’s eyes roll as she throws her hands up dramatically. 

“What does that even mean?!”

“Eddie was accused of murder, but he didn’t actually do it!”

“Eddie?! Eddie who?!”

“His name is Eddie Munson,” you say, “he was actually framed by the real murderer. The guy tortured him, Tonya! His…his body is covered in scars and…and he ended up loosing his leg. Like, from the knee down. And he was so sick when I got there. He’s come such a long way since then…”

Tonya’s face is like stone, blinking slowly as you go on about Eddie and all the things you’ve helped him accomplish in the last two months. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been rambling until the sound of her bedroom door caught your attention.

“Charles is here?” You ask her quietly after the bathroom door closes. You're shocked when she confirms that he had stayed the night. He'd never stayed the night before, at least while you were there.

“We had a fun night,” Tonya says with a sly smirk. “He’s probably feeling it this morning.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod. The sound of retching coming from the upstairs bathroom had the two of you giggling. Tonya leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hands as she looks at you.

“So,” she starts, “Can I ask you a side question before we get into this Eddie guy?”

“Sure,” you say suspiciously.

“Is Sam real?”

“What?” You chuckle. “Yeah, he’s real. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a lie you made up to go see your little criminal boyfriend.”

You reel back, shocked by the accusations of her statement.

“Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” you assure her. But the look on her face tells you she’s not buying it.

“Really? Because you just talked more about this guy in the last 20 minutes than you’ve talked about Sam since you two started dating.”

“Well…I spend five days a week with him, so of course I have more to say about Eddie than Sam. But…”

“But…?”

“What bit you in the ass this mornin’?”

Eddie stirs his coco wheat's mindlessly as the Andy Griffith’s Show plays on the TV. If you were to ask Wayne, he’d say Eddie was acting like a cat after it got caught in the rain, all pissy and ready to swat and anyone who looked at him.

“Nothin’,” Eddie grumbles, not bothering to look at his uncle as he spoke. Wayne sighed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it off. He shifts forward on the couch cushion until he was sitting on the edge.

“Did somethin’ happen at the Trick r Treat thing?”

Eddie exhaled, slumping back in the recliner dramatically before finally facing his uncle.

“Nothing happened. I just—Did you know she has a boyfriend?”

Wayne’s head tilts to the side. “What? No she don’t? Told me when she started.”

“Well, she must have lied to you because she told Harrington last night that she was seeing some guy named Sam from her school.” Eddie’s arms cross over his chest like a child with an attitude.

“Why’d she tell him that?”

“Because, in typical Harrington fashion, the guy flirts with any girl that crosses his path.”

“So she told him she had a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe she was lyin’ t’em.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t thought about that. He just assumed you hadn’t told him because you knew he liked you by now and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“But what if she’s not?” Eddie’s voice is soft in his vulnerability. He’d told Wayne about his growing feelings for you about a month ago. About how he thought you were beautiful from the first time he’d seen you, but he’d stuffed those feeling down immediately. 

He tried his best to push you away, hoping that you’d run with your tail between your legs after how rude he’d been to you. But you didn’t seem to budge, so he tried to ignore you instead. That obviously didn’t work out either. His hopes went up when you saw him on the floor that faithful night. He thought that you’d be so repulsed by him that you’d turn and run on the spot. 

But, of course you didn’t.

You looked at him as if he wasn’t a broken man who’d been beaten and almost eaten alive by supernatural bats. Who’d been abused and almost murdered by hospital staff who were supposed to be in charge of his life. Who was sent home to a place he didn’t know, with barely anything to his name after the Upside Down swallowed his trailer whole.

In hindsight, he almost wishes you had ran. Because this feeling that he’s had every day since has been more painful than any of his scars or shredded limbs. He wishes you had been shallow and vapid, because he would have a reason to hate you, rather than feel lonely whenever you weren’t around. 

And maybe he’d feel less bad about the times he’s touched himself while thinking about how your body presses against his when you help move him to his chair. Or the way your chest brushes against his shoulder when you’ve put your arms around him while you watch their DnD games. 

Shit, he’d only agreed to do physical therapy in the first place because you’d leaned in front of him and practically begged him. Did you know that he could almost see perfectly down your shirt when you did that? He was glad he did it, though, because the strength that’s slowly being restored to his hands was making it easier to jerk off to the thought of you.

Eddie tried to pushed those thoughts back. He didn’t want to feel that way about you. Well, not in this gross, perverted way at least. You didn’t deserve that. 

“If’n she’s not lyin’, then…well…” Wayne settles into a silence. Eddie feels himself getting upset, head titling back to push the impending tears away before they could spill over. 

It wasn’t fair for him to feel this way. He wouldn’t have had a chance with you even before everything that happened to him, so why was he getting all worked up as if you’d ever seen him as anything other than a pitiful shell of the man he used to be. No matter how much you poured into him, he would never have enough to return the favor.

Eddie had been distant the last few weeks. Not back to his grumpy self, but more closed off than he had been with you lately. Any time you touched him unprompted, he would pull away or make an excuse to move away from you. He still talked with you, but that teasing banter that he would throw your way was few and far between. 

It hurt to feel like you were being locked out again, but you didn’t question it. Eddie didn’t owe you any explanations anyway. But you still couldn’t help to over analyze his behaviors every night before falling asleep.

Even now as you sit with him and Wayne and sort through old pictures that Wayne had found after going through their storage unit. Wayne is doing most of the talking, with Eddie chiming in here and there to give short interjections.

“Eddie, you’re joking,” you gasp.

It was just a shoebox, but it was filled to the brim with pictures of Eddie when he was little. The picture in question that you were absolutely gushing over was of Eddie and a woman that you’d assumed to be his mom by their matching chocolate button eyes. Her hair was wild like Eddie’s; long red curls teased to high heaven that framed her delicate face. Toddler Eddie was on her hip in a Christmas themed outfit, a huge, baby toothed grin plastered on his face as beamed at his mother. The back of the picture read ‘Eddie & Flo Christmas ‘68.’

“I’m not,” he says with little enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I look just like my dad, besides my eyes. Wish I looked more like her, though.” 

“No, look,” you say, pointing at his moms smile. “You have her smile, too. Dimples and all.”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, taking the box and sifting through the pictures. It took him a few minutes to finally pull out a picture before handing it to you. 

What you weren’t prepared to see was a picture of a man who looked practically identical to Eddie, sans the long hair and clad in a military uniform. Next to him was a younger Wayne Munson, dressed in a leather jacket and with a much fuller head of hair. You studied the picture a bit before flipping it over.

‘Allan and Wayne April 1970 Day of Departure’

“Your dad was in Vietnam?” You ask, looking at the picture again, still mesmerized at the resemblance.

“Yeah, he got drafted and shipped out a month before my 5th birthday,” Eddie said with indifference.

“I thought you could be excused from the draft if you were married with kids?”

“Al and Flo weren’t married,” Wayne interjected. “And Al was dead set Eddie wasn’t his so he didn’t even show up to his birth. I’s there, though, cause I knew Flo wasn’t like those other girls he was chasin’ after. And when I tell you I wanted nothin more's to kick my brother’s ass as soon as I saw that little face for the first time.” 

Wayne grabs the box from the coffee table and shuffles around it a bit until he found a picture. He looks at it for a moment before handing it to you. “Poor Flo did all that time cookin’ that one there for him to come out lookin’ exactly like his daddy.”

The picture was of Eddie’s mother in her hospital bed, wild red hair tied up and looking exhausted. But her smile was wild, and she was flashing a peace sign at the camera. An even younger Wayne was holding a bundled up new born Eddie proudly in his arms, holding him up in a way that shows off Eddie’s chubby baby face. He really did look like his dad, the Munson genes definitely being more dominant.

You flip the picture over to read the back.

‘Florence, Wayne, and Edward May 13th, 1965.’

Wayne fished out more pictures of Eddie as a baby, and you cooed over every single one, much to Eddie’s dismay. Through this you discovered Eddie’s middle name was James after his late grandfather that passed on the strong Munson genes to his father.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Eddie’s mother, though. She was only 17 when she had Eddie, and her strict parents kicked her out because of it. Thankfully, Eddie’s grandparents took her in and Al apparently came around and stepped up when he held Eddie for the first time. 

They stayed living all together until Al was drafted. But not long after, Eddie’s mom got really sick. She had been hiding it, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, until it had suddenly gotten worse. Wayne moved back home to help raise Eddie when his mother started getting sick. She died in 1971, a week before Al was set to come home from Vietnam. 

“That’s when he started gettin’ in trouble. Flo had whipped him into shape in a way not even the military could accomplish. And when she was gone before he could say goodbye—”

“Can I go outside?” Eddie’s hand wipes over his eyes harshly. He scoots to the edge of the chair and reaches out for his wheelchair. You jump up at his request, getting his chair situated for him before helping him into it. He clung to you for a moment longer than he normally would, but you didn’t mind.

“Let me get your coat,” Wayne says, pushing off the couch. When he’s just out of earshot, you look at Eddie, his eyes glassy and downcast as if deep in thought, and tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, do you think that when you have kids they’ll be clones of you, too?”

Eddie’s posture straightens, his eyes wide when he meets yours. 

“What? I, um, I don’t—” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really thought about it. Didn’t really plan on kids anyway.”

“Oh, really? I guess that’s understandable. Not everyone wants kids.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm, maybe one day,” you shrug. “Not really rushing to have one right now or anything. More focused on school and taking care of you.” Eddie smiles, but ducks his head to hide it from you. 

“Well, I guess I’m good practice for taking care of one,” he says.

“No, you’re way harder to take care of.” He barks out a laugh, rolling away from you to meet Wayne half way to the door. 

While the two of them go outside to smoke, you busy yourself in the kitchen putting away the Thanksgiving dinner you and Wayne had put together, with Eddie’s help on stirring duty. Ben had come by and ate with all of you, seemingly more comfortable being around while you were at the Munson’s residence with his more frequent visits.

It didn’t take you long to clean up. Wayne had apologized all morning for the dinner not being anything fancy, and you reassured him every time that you didn’t care. You’d been used to spending Thanksgiving with just your grandparents, and then just your grandma for so long that you’d never made much of a big deal out of the holiday like others do. 

Sam specifically told you on multiple occasions about how everyone in his family makes a very big deal about holidays. Apparently they were also looking forward to meeting you, which came as a shock considering he hadn’t even asked you to go, he just assumed you would. When you told him it felt like it was way too soon to meet his family, he seemed bummed but thankfully didn’t press further.

“Damnit, I told ya she’d be in here cleanin’ up, Eds,” Wayne hollers from the living room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

“We’re gonna have to start paying her if she’s gonna start doing the maid’s job,” Eddie says, rolling into the kitchen and up to the fridge. He goes to grab for a beer, but you call for him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Eddie, if you have a beer this late you can’t take your pain meds.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie says, plucking the beer from the door and presenting it to you. “I wasn’t gonna take it tonight anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Wanna try and get used to not having it.”

You want to argue with him, but he’s giving you that wet, sad look that he knows will get you to fold. And you do, snatching the beer from his hands and popping the tab open. 

He holds his hand out to grab it from you, but you decide to fuck with him a bit and take a sip of it yourself. It tastes like nasty cheep beer, but you do your best to remain as neutral as possible, even letting out an “ahhh” after you swallow.

Eddie looks up at you with pure shock, frozen in place like he was petrified. It makes you laugh as you place the can back in his hand, waiting a moment for him to grab it before letting go.

“Y-you can have it if you want,” he stutters, not moving.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I was just messing with you,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder as you walk past him out of the kitchen.

Eddie thrusts sloppily into his folded pillow, held together by his body weight as he lays on top of it. It took a lot of trial and error, but Eddie’s found this to be the most effective way for him to get off when his hands are too sore to just jerk off. 

He didn’t mind it though, because this set up made it feel more real to him. He didn’t have any frame of reference to know what it felt like to fuck a real pussy, but the friction of his pillowcase felt good enough that he was able to bypass the texture if he just focused on the fantasies in his head. 

All of them revolved around you, of course. He tries to stave off of giving into his urges. Especially considering he usually had to look you in the face at some point after. He felt like he was going to give himself some kind of pavlov response if he allowed himself to jerk off from any small domestic gesture that you threw his way.

Today was a bit too much for him, though. He’s happy you came over since he fully expected you to ditch him and Wayne for some other plans.

But you didn’t.

Not only did you come over, but you came over early, dressed up in an outfit that had Eddie fighting off a hard on from the moment you arrived. And basically acted as if you’d been part of the family for years rather than only knowing them for a few months. You were a natural addition to the Munson clan and that played on Eddie's mind a lot when he thought about you like this.

And when you took a sip of Eddie’s beer before giving it to him…Eddie was ashamed to even think about how much that affected him. Not only was it practically an indirect kiss, but he’d never seen you let loose like that, even if it was just a sip. You felt comfortable around him to blur that line of professionalism that you tried to keep up when you cared for him, and Eddie was letting the delusions run rampant.

“Haaa, fuck,” he whines into his other pillow as he ruts into the makeshift pussy that he desperately wishes was yours. He’s imagining you lying under him, his bare chest pressing into your back as he plows into you from behind. He thinks about how you’d be calling out his name. Are you vocal in bed, or would you be biting into his pillow like he is now to keep himself quiet?

Eddie pulls his shirt back up to his nose and your scent that rubbed off on it filled his nostrils, sending him over the edge. He cums suddenly with a low groan, spurts of white cum spilling in between the fold of the sandwiched pillow. His breath hitches, eyes going in and out of focus as he cums harder than he ever has before. 

After catching his breath, Eddie pushes himself over and onto his back. He lays there, waiting for the guilt to creep in like it always does. He thinks back to your conversation earlier, about him wanting kids. It kills him. 

Did you really think he would ever have the chance to have kids? Besides not knowing if his swimmers even work after what he went though, he would have to meet someone who would treat him with even a fraction of the kindness you give him. And then he’d have to convince them that he was worthy enough for their love and not a burden. 

You saying you want kids one day hurt even worse. It was a feasible dream for you, to start a family with someone you loved. Eddie had barely thought about kids, but now he’s laying here thinking about what a normal life would be like with you. A house with a white picket fence, two kids, a dog…

Tears rolled down Eddie’s temples and disappeared into his sweaty hair line. He grabbed the soiled pillow and pulled off the pillowcase, carefully pulling it inside out and tossing it into his laundry basket. He pulled his comforter over himself to hide away from the world. 

The bed shakes as Sam lands on his back next to you. He says…something, but you’re too busy in your own head to catch it. The ache between your legs tries to get your attention as well, but you would rather listen to Sam speak than address that right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s hand waves in front of your face and you force yourself to smile when you look at him. “Did I really blow your mind that much?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, probably overdoing it. You feel an ick wash over you when he smiles triumphantly. He leans in to kiss you and you turn your head so that his lips hit your cheek.

“I’m gonna go get us some water. Feel free to use my bathroom to clean up.” You lay still until Sam leaves the room, holding your breath until you’re sure he’s gone. 

Jumping up from the bed, you grab your clothes and quickly redress. You can’t find your tights but at this point you don’t even care, you just want to get out of there as fast as you can. Sam is standing in the hallway with a glass of water when you open the bedroom door. He looks at you up and down with confusion.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I, uh…I forgot that I promised to help Tonya put up Christmas decorations tomorrow.” You move past him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Do you have to leave right now?” He asks, a distressed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I probably should. Tonya likes to get up early to start the process and--”

“Okay, I understand,” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. “Can I, um, I want—I need to ask you something before you go.”

Your heart feels like it’s dropped into your stomach, nauseating you instantly. You have a sneaking suspicion that you know what he’s going to ask, but you really don’t think you can do this right now.

“Can we talk about it later? I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon,” you say, pulling your arm from his grasp. “Really want to get home before the roads get bad—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The reaction your body had to his question was similar to one you would have if you heard nails on a chalkboard. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole right now you’d be thankful for a quick escape from this situation. 

You relaxed your body and looked at Sam. He’s a nice guy, truly, but after everything that transpired in his bedroom…

“Sam…”

“Yeah?” His puppy dog eyes are making this harder than you want it to be.

“I….” You sigh, “I need to think about it. I’m going through a lot with finals coming up and taking care of Ed—I mean, Mr. Munson--”

“But you’re almost done with both of those? Christmas break is just around the corner, and I really would like you to meet my family.”

“Wait, what do you mean I’m almost done?”

“Well, you’re finals are, like, a week and a half away. And next week is your last week for the volunteer program so you won’t be needing to go to Hawkins anymore. We called all the families and let them know so that they could make other arrangements a week or two ago.”

All the air around you felt like it was sucked away. Wayne didn’t tell you that he had gotten a call. Was he even going to bring it up? Did he just expect you to up and leave him and Eddie?

“Sam, I really need to go,” you say with a strained breath. You don’t give him much of a chance to answer before you’re grabbing your coat and heading out his front door. Snow was already starting to stick to the ground as you got to your car. Sam stood at his front door, still in his boxers as you got in your car and drove off.

Driving on autopilot, your brain began to recall and process exactly what happened while you were with Sam. He had been off putting ever since you saw him after Thanksgiving, but you almost felt bad for him. All this time you convinced yourself that this really attractive guy was giving you attention and you just we’re being grateful for it. 

But today solidified for you that you couldn’t deny the way you were feeling anymore. Not when the whole time the two of you were having sex, you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. Every touch, every thrust, you could only think about Eddie being the one on top of you making you feel good. You’re pretty sure you would have cum if it was actually Eddie.

The feelings you had for Eddie sat behind a glass wall inside your mind ever since you were able to pour your heart out to Tonya. But, no matter how much you wanted to, you knew you could never act on them. It would go against every code of conduct for you to have a romantic relationship with a patient. You could potentially get kicked out of nursing school if you were ever found out.

Not to mention you had no idea if Eddie would even accept your feelings. Sure, he has come out of his shell and let you into his life in more ways that you had imagined when you first met him. But, you didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking it was anything deeper than an appreciation for the care you’ve given him. Eddie and Wayne were good people, and you didn’t want to mistake that kindness for anything more than what it was.

But, fuck, did it suck to find out you might only have one more week to spend with them.

Between the thick snowflakes and the racing of your mind, you didn’t notice the way the road was getting icier as the snow continued to fall. A turn snuck up on you in the heavy snowfall and you slammed on the brakes to slow down, but your car continued to slide across the snowy road. 

Your car fishhooks before the back end whips around, sending you spinning into a ditch. It’s not a deep one, but the lack of traction under your tire sends them spinning with barely any movement from your car. You curse under your breath, all of your emotions bubbling up until you smack your steering wheel out of frustration.

After taking a few minutes to cool off, you take a look around you to assess your surroundings. It’s hard to see much, the back road you’re on has no streetlights and you’re not sure if you’d be able to see any house lights even if you were in someone’s yard. You start to panic, unsure of what you’re next move should be. You don’t have enough gas to wait out the night, but you should still have an emergency blanket in your trunk.

You have to hype yourself up to leave your car, moving as fast as you could to the back. As you went to open the trunk, fumbling with your keys lead to dropping them in the white snow at your feet. Your eyes stung as your tears began to gather, the cold wind instantly chilling them. 

Without a second thought, you let out a loud scream into the dark night sky. You felt around for your keys, the cold metal biting your already cold hands as you finally opened your trunk, only to find it empty. That’s when you remember that you had taken the blanket out of your trunk and thrown it in your back seat for the trunk r treat night.

The trunk of your car slams hard enough to make the car shake, and you practically rip the door off the hinge when you grab the blanket.

Just as you’re about to get back in your front seat whe a light comes into view from the down the road. Relief washes over you when you can see it’s a car coming your way. You jump up and down, waving your hands around to get the cars attention, the big truck rolling to a stop next to you.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” A little old woman’s voice calls from the rolled down window.

“No,” you yell with a pathetic sniffle. The driver side door of the truck opens and a little old man jumps out and rounds the front. He lets you inside and you slide into the bench seat between the two.

The couple apparently heard you scream from their house and came out to check what was going on. The snow was so thick you didn’t even realize their house was only a few hundred feet away from your car. The woman made you a hot drink as you used their phone to call for someone to pick you up.

“Hello?” Wayne’s gruff voice could have been intimidating to hear if it was anyone else calling the Munson house this time of night.

“Wayne, it’s me.”

You thank the older couple profusely for everything before bounding out to the truck waiting for you in their driveway. It had taken Wayne almost 45 minutes to get to you with all of the snow, but he promised he would get to you even if it took hours.

When you pulled open the passenger door, you were surprised to see Eddie sitting there with a worried look.

“Eddie, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Boy was worried sick ‘bout’cha,” Wayne calls from the other side of Eddie.

“Wayne,” he groans, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for you. 

“Aw, that was really sweet of you to be worried about me,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder to push his buttons a little bit more. Eddie adverts his gaze, mumbling a whatever under his breath making Wayne chuckle.

Wayne backs out of the driveway and starts the journey to Tonya’s. The conversation is light until Wayne asks what you were doing out so late at night during a snow storm.

“I was out with some of my classmates,” you lie, not wanting to bring up being with Sam. The thought of him only brought all of the thoughts you had earlier in the night to the forefront of your mind, and you were suddenly very aware of how much of your body was touching Eddie’s in this cramped seating arrangement. 

The chill of the night had been cut by his natural body heat against you, making you subconsciously curled into him at some point during the drive. You went to pull away, but his body started to move with yours until he was leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to adjust himself, “I usually lean against the door to keep my balance.”

“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m sorry,” you say, moving closer to him again. “I would have sat in the middle if I had known.” 

“It’s okay,” he says quietly before you felt his body weight leaning against you again. 

The small talk dwindled into a peaceful quiet as Wayne drove the country road with ease. The snow has started to ease up, almost completely stopped by the time you saw the city marker indicating you were close to being home.

As you were leaning into Eddie’s shoulder, you felt a bit of weight fall on top of your head, your vision slightly obstructed by curly brown hair that fell over your face. Eddie’s light snores next to your ear was all the confirmation you needed that he’d fallen asleep and was using you as a pillow. 

A warm, bubbly feeling filled you at the sudden closeness. Even a small interaction like this made you feel a million times more exultant than you’ve ever felt with Sam. Or anyone for that matter. 

“Wayne,” you called to the older man, wanting to distract yourself from your thoughts. He hummed in response, his hat covered head tilting slightly in your direction while his eyes remained on the snowy roads. “Tonight one of my…friends from class, they mentioned something about this week being the last week of our volunteer work.”

Wayne went rigid in his seat, shifting to sit upright again. He cleared his throat, visibly becoming more distraught with each passing second.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it? I, um…” Wayne ran a hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth against the stubble before it landed back on the steering wheel. 

“’ve been-- been trying, ya know, to get someone to take over nights. I thought about askin’ Hop, but he’s done enough for us. Plus he’s got family now, so s’not fair to ask him. Could come off the nights, but that shift diff is really gettin’ us by.” Wayne nods his head to the side, “Ed says he can stay home by himself, but I just…I can’t have em fallin’ and not bein’ able to get emself up. Lord forbid he fall and break his hip er somethin’.”

“So…it sounds like you haven’t found anyone?”

Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not…” He pauses, letting out a huff of air through his nose. “There is someone who is willing to come a couple nights a week if we need ‘em…”

“But?” You press, curious as to who this person might be.

“But…I’ll just say he’s not my first pick to take responsibility for anyone.”

“I see,” you say, looking down at where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against yours, the end of his jeans smoothed over the amputation spot where you’d sewn the end shut for him.

“Can I ask why you didn’t ask me if I could keep coming over?”

Wayne was still, like he was holding his breath. 

“I, um, we…”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. If you don’t want me to keep coming I totally understand--”

“No, no! That’s not it at all,” Wayne says defensively. “We both kinda assumed that you weren’t…allowed to.”

“Oh…well I don’t think there’s anything that says I couldn’t keep coming over? It’s not like I’m being paid, so I don’t think I’m violating any of my school’s rules. And he’s been doing so well, it wouldn’t be any different than if anyone else came over to stay with him.”

The truck was quiet for a moment, except for the directions you gave Wayne as he turned into Tonya’s neighborhood. Once he pulled into the empty driveway, he shift the old beater truck into park and turned to look at you. You must have been quite a sight sitting there with his nephew practically on top of you as he snoozed away. But you still smiled up at him, even as he shook his head at the two of you.

“So, I don’t want you to say yes just because I told you I was havin’ trouble. Okay? Promise me if you say yes that it’s not outta pity.”

“I promise,” you say, crossing your fingers for him to see.

“Alright, well, if it’s not gonna cause you any issue, would you be able to keep comin’ down to stay with Ed at night? It doesn’t have to be every day. Like I said, I got someone who said he can stay a night or two a week if we need ‘em—”

“Can I ask who it is you’re talking about?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a guy Ed went to school with. He’s a little older--names Rick—they’ve been friends since Eddie was a freshman—”

“Rick? Like Reefer Rick?” You question, Eddie’s weight on you being the only thing keeping you from jumping out of your seat.

“Well, yeah, that’s him. I guess Eddie must’ve talked bout him by now.”

“He hasn’t told me much about him. But, he did come over one day after you’d already left for work when the boys were over.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot Eddie told me he came by,” Wayne nodded.

“I guess I understand why you don’t want him to be the one to stay over.” 

“Yeah, he’s just…not a very responsible kid,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“That’s like…the nice way to put it, I suppose.” 

Eddie suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, his tired, confused eyes scanning his surroundings before looking at you. He smiles, breathing in harshly as he stretches, one arm going forward and the other behind you. 

“Hi,” he breathes out, his voice groggy and low from just being asleep. It does that thing to you where it goes straight from your ears to between your legs. 

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle, looking up at his dopey, half asleep still expression. Wayne clears his throat and Eddie’s whole body turns to look at him, then all around once more as if he’s only just noticing his surroundings for the first time.

“Where are we?” He asks with pinched brows.

“My house,” you say, taking that as your cue to grab your things and exit the vehicle.

“Shit, that was a quick drive,” Eddie says running a hand over his eyes.

“Quick only cause you used that poor girl like a mattress while you slept,” Wayne quips. 

“I did? Damn, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes, his eyes wide as if panicked.

“Oh, I didn’t care,” you say as you opened the car door, the cold air hitting you straight to the bone and making you shiver. But even with the winter air trying to turn you into a popsicle, you still took your time getting out, not wanting to make Eddie lose his balance and fall. 

Once Eddie was situated back in the passenger seat, you gave the two men your goodbyes, promising Wayne to finish the conversation when you come by on Monday.

The Munson men waited in the drive way to make sure you got inside okay, waving back to you as they took off down the road.

Every day for the next week felt like a rollercoaster. 

Sunday consisted of Tonya taking you to get your car and you ignoring phone calls from Sam. You and Tonya also decorated the house together, so you technically didn’t lie to Sam when you left.

Monday you were almost late to class, doing your best to wait until the last second to pull into the schools parking lot so as to avoid Sam in case he was waiting for you. You felt bad for not giving him an answer before you left him on Saturday. But after an all day conversation with Tonya that started with telling her that you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head while you were having sex with Sam and ended with you guys talking about what colours you think Eddie would like if you ever got married one day, you figured you should probably cut things off with him.

You were never good at telling anyone no, this much you knew about yourself. And if you were completely honest, you were a little worried that if you didn’t wait until the right time that Sam might puppy dog eye you into changing your mind. But, you had to be strong. If you could just get through until next Wednesday after finals…

Speaking of finals. After some discussion with the Munson men, it was decided that you would keep coming to stay with Eddie over night until further notice. Both of them seemed to be relieved, although Eddie did say he wanted to keep working on building his strength so that Wayne would feel comfortable enough to let him be alone at some point in the future.

Once that was settled, you immediately made a deal with Eddie, making him your personal exam study buddy. Every day he quizzed you, went through flash cards with you, and looked over your homework for you, handing it back if he didn’t think the answer you gave matched what the textbook said.

“I feel like I could be a nurse after all of this,” Eddie said, placing the thick deck of flash cards down on the side table. The flipping between the cards had been serving as a good exercise for building up his hand dexterity, but often left them a little sore by the time you’d gone through all of them.

“I think I’d pay good money to see you in one of my school’s nursing uniforms,” you tease, standing up to refill his cup.

“Good money, huh? Like, maybe a college tuition’s worth?” He calls back from his chair. You bark out a laugh.

“You’d have to put that uniform to good use for me to shell out that kind of cash, if you know what I mean.” Eddie howls at your suggestive words.

“Don’t know how good of a dancer I’d be with only one leg, sweetheart!”

After a long week of studying, Friday finally rolled around and it was time to fulfill your part of the bargain. 

With Eddie in the passenger seat, the two of you set off towards Castleton Square in Indianapolis. The roads were busy, full of people with the same idea as you and Eddie; last minute Christmas shopping. 

You’d lied to Wayne about where you were going per Eddie’s request. He knew that if he told Wayne where he was going that he would try and give him money to buy his gifts. 

But ever since his disability checks (finally) started coming in, Eddie had secretly been saving some on the side so that he could get some things for everyone for Christmas.

That included Wayne, and he wasn’t about to use the man’s own money to buy him a Christmas gift. So, as far as Wayne knew, the two of you were going to see Grant and his girlfriend's new apartment. 

“Damn, this place is packed,” Eddie said, head on a swivel as you tried to navigate the mall’s parking lot without taking out a pedestrian. 

“No kidding,” you say, pulling up towards one of the mall’s entrances. 

“I’m gonna let you out here,” you say, flipping on your blinkers. Once Eddie is situated in his chair, you wait for him to wheel inside the first set of doors before taking off to park. 

After 20 minutes of searching and briefly getting into it with a 70 year old over a handicap spot, you finally make your way to the mall entrance. It was just as crazy inside of the mall as you’d expected it to be with Christmas only a few more days away. People of all different background suddenly become unified by their arms being full of copious amounts of shopping bags. 

Eddie sat just inside the doors, eyes flickering across his surroundings, as if anticipating something. But as you enter into the crowded mall, his anxiousness seems to melt away as soon as his gaze meets yours. 

“You okay?” You ask, grabbing your purse from his lap. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at you. “I’m just…scoping the place out. For stores to shop in.” He saves himself at the last moment and you decide to let that excuse be enough for you.

To say the mall was pure chaos was an understatement. Many of the stores were restocking shelves at a record speeds, people fighting over toys and clothes and shoes that they HAD to have, lest little Tommy or Susie not get everything on their Christmas list. Every bench was filled to the brim with husbands and dads left in charge of bag duty while their wives wrack up their credit cards in the name of Christmas spirit.

Thankfully, no one wanted to be the person that's a dick to the guy in the wheelchair during the holiday season, so navigating the crowds was a little easier than you anticipated. The two of you bobbed and weaved through the stores, picking up a few things here and there for your respective friends and loved ones. Eddie was even brave enough to do a little shopping on his own while you ran to the bathroom.

Once the two of you regrouped, you took in Eddie’s haggard appearance and decided to call for a cookie break.

“Damn, what do they put in these things?” Eddie asks, his eyes closing as he takes another bite of his double chocolate cookie.

“I don’t know,” you say, sitting on the edge of a cement planter, not a single available seat in sight, “but whatever it is should probably be illegal. I could probably eat 10 of these things.”

“Mmm, agreed,” he says with a mouth full of cookie. 

The two of you sit and enjoy your treats in silence. Not out of neglect for the other, but out a mutual curiosity as you people watch.

 It was interesting to come to your own conclusions about people with only a snapshot of their lives like this, and it makes you wonder how people must be perceiving you and Eddie together. Are people assuming the two of you are dating? You couldn’t blame people for thinking that, but what else were they thinking about you? Do the two of you even look good together?

“Look mommy! What is that?”

The voice of a little boy catches your attention. A small pointed finger in your general direction makes you feel uneasy as you automatically assume the child must be pointing at Eddie. Sure, a man in a wheelchair has the potential to puzzle a child, but you didn’t know how Eddie would react to this kind of attention in a raw, childlike form.

“That’s called a mistletoe, dear,” the stressed mother answers, eyes looking your direction for a brief moment. Except, you notice her gaze lands just above you, prompting you to tilt your head back. And you’d be damned to find a small mistletoe handing from a thin string from the ceiling tile above you. 

“Huh,” you hear Eddie say next to you. The sudden realization that the mistletoe is hanging above yours and Eddie’s head has heat rising to your cheeks. You keep your head locked while your eyes shift to look at Eddie out of your peripheral. 

Sure enough he was looking at it, too. 

“Didn’t see that there before.” The words spill from your mouth without much forethought. Eddie clears his throat, and you steal another quick glance at him. His cheeks have an ever so slight pink tint to them, which only makes your stomach do flips.

Eddie has play flirted and said his fair share of raunchy jokes with you in the recent weeks. Never really giving as much of a hint of embarrassment in his actions, you assumed that he felt comfortable enough with your…friendship? That he didn’t care to treat you like one of his boys.

Given your newly realized feelings, it’s admittedly stung a bit. However, the reaction he’s giving now at being caught under a mistletoe with you is only fueling any delusions that you’ve ever entertained between the two of you.

“Me—me either,” he stutters, his eyes shifting down to the floor tiles beneath him. His bashfulness drives you crazy, and you have the sudden intrusive thought to just kiss him. And you almost consider it, if it wasn’t for the potential awkwardness that would result from your potential misreading of the moment.

“Have-have you, um, ever…you know?” Eddie chokes on almost every word, leg bouncing against the pedal as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, have I ever—?”

“Ever kissed. Like, under the mistletoe or whatever.” Eddie clarifies, gesturing to the decoration while still avoiding eye contact.

“O-oh, um,” you think for a moment of every kiss you’ve ever had in your life and suddenly blanking. “Maybe once or twice. In, like, middle school or high school. What about you?”

Eddie shifts in his chair, “No, no, it’s…I’ve not before. Not that I wouldn’t,” Eddie looks at you, then turns away again. “I mean, I’ve never been under one with someone before.”

“Do you want one?”

Eddie stills, blinking slowly as he processes your words.

“Do I want a kiss?”

You nod.

“I mean I guess I wouldn’t be against—”

Eddie is quieted by the sudden contact. You press your lips against his cheek, landing on the edge of the large scar. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime to Eddie. 

When you pull away, you do your best to maintain composure. Giving him a forced smile, you rise from your seat to look at him straight on.

“There you go,” you say, hands landing on your hips. “Now you can say you’ve had your first mistletoe kiss.”

“Eddie, Eddie, shhh it’s okay.”

Pulling him into you, you run a hand up and down his back soothingly in an attempt to calm Eddie’s still sleeping form. Screams of terror begin to fade out into small moans and whimpers the more you comfort him. 

Slowly he wakes, his arms wrapping around you as he begins to sob. You don’t ask him about his dreams, or rather, his nightmares. You’re sure that it would only make things worse, so you just let him cry himself back to sleep against you.

“—Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Wayne’s voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the head of Eddie’s bed as he snored in your lap.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper yawn, gently lifting Eddie’s head until you could place a pillow under it. Tiptoeing out of Eddie’s room, you join Wayne in the hallway, who looks like he just got home.

“Sorry if I woke ya,” Wayne says in a low voice.

“It’s okay, really,” you say rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had another night terror so I was just trying to settle him down s'all.”

Wayne hums, a hint of disbelief in his tone. You thought about pressing the matter, but figured doubling down would only push Wayne into believing whatever he already convinced himself more. Besides, getting a couple more hours of sleep before the weekend officially started sounded like something you wanted to take advantage of.

When you did finally wake up, you did your normal Saturday morning routine before your morning shift at the coffee shop. After getting dressed, you place a full glass of water and a little cup full of his morning meds on Eddie’s nightstand and pull out a fresh pair of clothes for him to put on after he wakes up. As you go to leave, you glance over to the newly wrapped gifts that sit below the Munson’s Charlie Brown inspired Christmas tree and think about how you wish you had seen Wayne’s face when he saw them earlier. 

Your work day flew by. The nonstop in and out of shoppers getting their morning caffeine fix or their afternoon refill kept you constantly moving. And before you knew it, you were grabbing your own cup to go and heading out the door to trek the the almost 3 hour drive from work to your home town.

Once you made it to Anderson, you stopped by a local flower shop, one that you’d been going to since you were a kid, to pick out some nice flowers to leave at the graves of your parents and grandparents. The owner made some small talk with you, asking about school and how Tonya was doing.

The mentioning of your friend reminded you that you still needed to give her the gift you’d gotten her before she left to visit Charles' family for the holiday. You were thankful that the Munson’s asked you to join them Christmas day, otherwise you’d be spending the holiday by yourself for the first time in your life.

With your flowers in hand, you placed each bundle at the graves. You spent a good amount of time with each one, talking with the markers as if your loved ones were there and listening. You’re not sure how long you were there. But eventually the cold became too much and you had to leave. 

Driving out of the cemetery was always really hard. Your parents had been gone long enough now that you’d come to peace with them being gone. It still hurt, but didn’t feel as much like salt in a wound as your grandparents. But, the deep sadness you normally felt was lighter than usual. The thought of your next destination—back to the same mall you had spent the evening with Eddie in—made you feel like you had a purpose for the first time in a long while.

You’re sure he hadn’t noticed, but you had kept your eye on Eddie as he shopped around. Anything he took interest in as the two of you perused the mall you took note of, fully planning on returning to pick out some to gift him. You doubt that he go you anything, but that didn’t really matter to you. You wanted to get him things he wanted, knowing he wasn’t going to spend the money on himself.

“What’s W.A.S.P?” Tonya mumbles through a mouth full of sugar cookie as she flips a cassette case in her hand. Her eyes go wide as she reads the track titles on the back.

“They’re a metal band,” you say, grabbing it from her and centering it the middle of your wrapping paper. “Jeff gave Eddie a shirt of theirs, so I’m guessing he must like them.” 

“Girl, one of those tracks was called Ballcrusher,” she says with a concerned look that made you laugh.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” you shrug, wrapping the cassette nicely and laying it next to a few more that were already wrapped. “It’s cooler than the ovenmits you got Charles.”

“Excuse you, he asked for new mits.” Tonya points her half eaten cookie at you before taking another bite. “And I think they fit his personality very well.”

“They’re plain beige,” you say monotonally.

“Exactly,” Tonya nods with a smile. “Plain and beige, and safe.”

You tsk and roll your eyes, mumbling a little whatever as you organize your gifts. Some might say you went a little overboard for someone who you’ve only been taking care of for just shy of 5 months. But, it was hard to narrow anything down when you envisioned Eddie’s face as he opened all of his new possessions. It was enough to justify the…8…9…11 things you got for him. 

“Can I tell you something…”

You look over at Tonya, who seems to be unable to contain a smile as she waits for you to answer.

“Of course,” you say, turning to give her your full attention.

“Okay, so, I know it’s the holiday season or whatever, and I could totally be wrong. But…”

“But?”

“But…” She takes a deep breath in. “...I think Charlie is going to propose to me at his family’s Christmas.”

You shoot up straight in your chair. A few months ago you might not have been so keen on this speculation, but the last few months Charles seems to have loosened up a bit. You also stopped caring about him taking your parking spot considering you were hardly here much anyway between school, work, and being at the Munson’s. 

“Oh my god. What? Why do you think that?”

“So, we went and did some Christmas shopping at that new outlet mall the other day. And while I was in the bathroom, he thought he would be slick and went into a jewelry shop. When I came out I saw him through the window and I’m, like, 99 percent positive he was looking at rings!”

The two of you gush and squeal over the prospect of Tonya’s future nuptials. Talks of colours and styles of dresses fill the room as the two of you talk for hours. 

“You know,” Tonya starts from the other side of the shower curtain, “Even if you are the maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” you ask before spitting out your tooth paste into the sink, “And what might that be?”

“If you plan on bringing Eddie as a plus one, I have to at least meet him once before the actual wedding.”

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit. “I…I don’t see why that couldn’t be arranged—”

“Ideally, I’d also like the two of you to have confessed your love for each other by then, too—”

“Stoooooooop, you don’t know that he’s in love with me. This could be totally one sided.”

“Or,” Tonya pokes her head out from the curtain, “he could be completely head over heals for you and one of you just needs to make a move already.”

“What the—do you need help?” Dustin moves towards you to help with the balancing act of carrying all your presents into the Munson house. He grabs a few gifts and ushers you inside. 

“Thanks Dustin,” you say, heading towards the Christmas tree that is filled even more so now than it was when you left Saturday morning. “It’s starting to look like Santa wont have any room to bring presents.”

“We’re going to take care of most of that tonight,” Jeff says with a smile as he pushes Eddie’s chair into the living room. 

 Eddie looked very handsome tonight in his red sweater and black slacks. It even looked like he took his time to properly do his hair today. You loved when Eddie would let you get his curls looking just right with a little product and styling.

“Hey,” he waved to you, more reserved than his normal goofy self.

“Well, hey there hot stuff. You look really nice tonight,” you say, leaning in to give him a hug. He went rigid for a moment before melting into the embrace. 

“About time you got here,” Mike calls from the kitchen, causing you to jump back. “You better hurry up and get some of this pizza before Gareth freaking eats it all.”

“Dude, I’m hungry!” Gareth shouts defensively. Will puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as everyone laughs them off.

“Where’s your friend,” you ask the room, scanning it for a new face. The boys said they had convinced their friend Lucas to finally come to a Hellfire meeting after several long months.

“He should be here soon,” Dustin says in an overly reassuring way.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mike scoffs.

“You were there, dude. He said he would come.”

“He said he would think about it. Never said he was gonna show up for sure.”

“If Sinclair shows up, we’ll greet him with open arms,” Eddie speaks up, “And if he doesn’t…well,” the room stills,”...there will always be other Hellfire Club meetings.”

Before the game begins, the boys take turns passing around gifts to each other. You’ve never seen so many sets of colourful dice in your entire life, but they all seemed very excited to receive them. Eddie was given a few band shirts and some cool looking records as well. He was so grateful for each gift he was given, a constant roll of thanks coming from him.

For a moment, you thought he might be getting overwhelmed when you saw a him wipe away a tear. You rest your hand on his arm, but he waves you off and reassures that he’s just really, really happy. It made your heart feel full to see him in such a good place. The amount of growth he’s done in such a short time never ceases to amaze you.

Eventually the game started rolling. You took the opportunity to clean up the mess of wrapping paper that was littered across the living room. The boys tried to get you to join them, but you told them that you wouldn’t be as fun to play with since you’d ask so many questions.

But Eddie still managed to keep you returning to the table. A few beers deep, he decided to skip his nighttime pain med. This led to his hands starting to ache (allegedly), which meant he needed you to roll his dice for him. Even if you knew it was just his way of getting you to hang out and avoid the pile of laundry that was staring you down, you let him have his fun and played along.

“Another 20!” You shout, jumping up and down. Eddie laughs manically while the rest of the table groans and protests.

“Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t play with us,” Dustin says shaking his head. You stick your tongue out at him and he makes a face back at you.

But the feeling of something touching your back pulls you from the playful banter. Looking around, you realize Eddie has his hand resting on your lower back, rubbing small circles there as he refocuses on the game. It’s not an unwelcome touch by any means, but it does feel very intimate all things considered. 

And it’s only made worse as his hand moves completely across your back, not stopping to trace back and almost hooking you around the waist. He pulls you closer to him until your bodies are flush, besides where the wheelchair separates you. His head rests against you, all of his attention on the game, making the action feel like a subconscious move. 

You weren’t going to make a scene about it, so you instead embrace the affection and let your hand rest on his opposite shoulder. From the corner of your eye you see the smile on his face grow until his dimples are on full display.

At the end of the night, the boys made their exit, leaving the pizza and drinks for you and Eddie to indulge in for the next day. Lucas never showed, but Dustin and Mike seemed determined to make him come out soon.

Once the boys were loaded up and down the drive way, you went straight to the sink to get to work on the dishes. But, before you could get passed the threshold of the kitchen, Eddie gently grabbed your wrist to still you.

“What’s wrong Edward?” You tease. His flush cheeks told you that he let himself go a little more than usually when he drinks.

“Shhhh don’t say my name like that,” he says with a slur of his words.

“Why not? It’s you’re name isn’t it?”

“Makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”

“Oh, do you feel guilty about something?”

You didn’t think that your words would hit any chords with Eddie. But the silly outward expression suddenly turned into one of shock. The air shifted in a spit second and you were instantly on damage control.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, fully facing him. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes getting glassier by the second. His body moves as a sob escapes from him, and any resolve Eddie had was gone as he lets everything go.

You crouch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he begins to wail, body shaking as he lets everything out.

“H-he didn’t--did’t-didn’t show--show up because of me!” The shaky words come out, and you instantly realize the error of your wording.

You pull him into you, letting him cry into your shoulder as you pet his hair, holding him tightly to comfort him

“Shhh, Eddie, nooo,” you speak low next to his ear. “You’re not to blame for what happened. You were a victim, too, Eddie. There isn’t anything you could have done—”

“If I had just died—if Dustin had just left me there instead of finding Steve and Robin…They-they—” 

Eddie starts to hyperventilate. His head lifts from your shoulder as he struggled to get his breath. You jump to your feet and run to the kitchen to grab a paper bag that had been left from the gas station beers. You run back to him and instruct him to breath into it, coaching him to imitate you as you demonstrate taking deep breaths.

After a few minutes, Eddie is able to somewhat calm himself down. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he leans back into his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. But you’re not sure if its out of shame or if he’ upset with you.

“Eddie?” You ask quietly. He flinches, but slowly lowers his head until he’s facing you, his eyes looking downwards rather than at you. But it’s good enough for you.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” His voice is still wobbly, eyes closing again as he breathes in.

“No, Eddie, you need to listen to me. Okay?”

Eddie looks at you, almost through you, but you take the silence as the signal to continue.

“Eddie…I know it might be hard to understand. But…whatever happened back in March…it’s not your fault.” His eyes shift and he starts to blink rapidly, but he doesn’t speak. “I can understand why you think that your friend is mad at you, but I think you know he’s not. He’s just worried about your other friend, Max. And whatever happened to Max…you didn’t force that monster to do that to her. Nor did you make him hurt the other victims.”

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, coming out haggard as you can tell he’s trying to hold back from crying again.

“And whatever happened to you…” You take his hands in yours, looking at the scared skin that decorates it. You let your hands fall against his thighs, just above where his leg is amputated. “Was not your fault.”

“You’ll never understand,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard. “You don’t know what actually happened.”

“Then, tell me Eddie. Help me understand.”

Eddie’s eyes scan your face. Then his head shakes, his curls whipping around as he does.

“I can’t. Even if I wanted to I…I just can’t.”

You nod, “And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Because I don’t think my mind would change even if I did know.”

“Can I go outside?” He asks, pulling his hands from yours.

“Sure,” you say with a smile. “Maybe we can get you showered and ready for bed after?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, pushing himself to the door. 

“Just hand me the lighter, asshole.”

Gareth’s hand reaches across the coffee table impatiently for Eddie to hand him the bright red lighter after the joint they were passing around had gone out.

“Nope, only people who tell the truth get to use my lighter,” Eddie says holding the lighter to his chest.

“Eddie, don’t press him. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” you say, taking a sip from your concoction of a drink that Grant’s girlfriend, Tina, made for you. You lean into him so that only he could hear you. “How would you feel if someone was pestering Wayne about Ben like that?”

That seemed to shut Eddie up. He finally tossed the lighter to Gareth, who wasted no time in lighting the joint back up.

“So, how did Christmas at the Munson’s go?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the couch next to Eddie, handing him another beer.

“It was, and I am not exaggerating,” Eddie starts with a slight slur of his words, “probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Like, this one right here?” He points his thumb to you. “I didn’t think I’d ever know what it feels like to be spoiled, but that’s definitely how she treated me.”

“Wait a second,” you scoff, “I did not spoil you. I just found some things that I thought you’d like and figured I’d get them for you.” You shrug, giving Tina, Grant's girlfriend, a look of feigned innocence as you turned to face her. The two of you had been doing quite a bit of chatting since you arrived, instantly clicking as you two seemed to have a lot in common.

She did ask you how long you and Eddie had been together, however. And you had to awkwardly explain that you were just his caregiver. It made you wonder what Grant had to be telling her about you and Eddie for her to think that the two of you were together.

“Did you get her anything?” Grant asks, nodding to you.

“Of course,” Eddie says with faux offense. “I bought her some of the lotion that she keeps in her bag, some of her favorite snacks, a copy of her favorite movie that she said she lost when she moved, and a study book for school.”

“You also got me a whole box full of snacks,” you say, nudging him.

“That was just because you are constantly talking about how you wish you had this or that when we’re watching a movie or something,”

“Are you sure you are not dating?” Tina leans in and asks you with genuine curiosity.

The guys laugh, but you reassure her that you’re not.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, you tend to pick up on each other’s interests. I’m sure you and Grant are the same way.”

“We are,” she says with an enthusiastic nod, “Because we are dating.”

“Shh, hey, the ball is gonna drop!”

The small TV in Grant’s living room shows that only 15 seconds remain until the ball is about to drop. You move closer to Eddie to see the TV better, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him. 

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV as the countdown begins. As the numbers go down, you rapidly reflect on 1986. 

The beginning half of the year seemed uneventful compared to the latter in the grand scheme of things. You recall all the highs and lows that you and Eddie have been in together since you first met, when you realized that what you were feeling was more than it should ever be and how you’ll likely never get the chance to do so. 

But you also reflect on the wonderful new friends that you’ve made, including Wayne, who you hoped was having a good night with Ben. And the younger boys, who said they were going to the hospital to spend the new year with Lucas and Max. 

Only a few seconds remain, so you turn to face Eddie, whose eyes were still on the small screen. An idea came across your mind. You pucker your lips, gearing up to plant a fat kiss on his cheek once the ball dropped. You were sure we would be embarrassed getting a cheek kiss in front of his friends, but doubted he could keep a grudge long. 

As the room cheered at the end of the countdown, you closed your eyes and leaned in. 

But you instantly knew something was off once your lips made contact. Instead of the textured skin you were expecting, you felt softness against your lips. 

And when you opened your eyes, you were met with chocolate brown ones looking right back at you. Eyebrows raised into bewilderment, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening. 

Then it hits you. 

You were kissing Eddie. And he wasn't stopping you.

thank you for reading!

a/n: hello! I wanted to make all of the readers of this series aware that I have decided to change up the direction I’m going with it. I feel like I’m straying away from some important elements and I want to try and regroup starting from part 6 and onwards. I plan on keeping some plot points I previously had planned, but they may just be executed differently than I intended. I dont believe the changes will have an affect on the story so far, but still felt that I should mention it.

Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I hope to have the next part out here sooner than later <3

[doctorbeth]

Sailor the Teddy Bear

Sailor the teddy bear's person wrote a month or so ago. Sailor himself was in pretty good shape, except for some small eye issues, but his clothes had worn to the point that she wanted them replaced, and she figured he should enjoy a spa while he was in California as well.

Here isSailor's diagnosis photo:

Now the eye issue which isn't quite clear, is his eyes were a bit off kilter. When he came to the hospital and was getting prepped for his spa, I found the reason -- the post of his right eye (left in the photo) was broken off inside and his eye had been glued into place. Fortunately, as you'll see, we were able to restore his vision to 20/20.

Also, in addition to a new outfit for Sailor, his person was hoping for one of those sailor cape/collars to go over his shoulders, matching the color of his pants and hat. He was to keep his original hat, but the trim at the back needed a bit of repair.

Here's Sailor in his bubble bath:

And here's his heart being made and installed with a bit of his original stuffing:

And finally, here's Sailor all better and ready to fly home! A few things to note about his new clothes --- the shirt and pants are one piece, just like the original. They close with a snap at the top, but have a decorative button where the snap is, that matches the small striped area on the front of his shirt. His new collar/cape is removable as well. You can also see the chubbiness testing photo, where I'm poking his belly (I don't show this usually). This is where his person had the chance to add feedback to adjust his stuffing if needed.

Sailor's person approved and he flew home to Michigan. BTW, he flew both ways with an airtag in his box, so his person knew exactly where he was at all times. The funniest thing with airtag patients is the air tag makes a jingly sound when it moves, so every time I move an air tag patient's bed, I have to remind myself that they don't have internal bells, that's their tracker. :-)

Anyway, Sailor made it home safe and sound and his person wrote:

"He's perfect omg ; ; I can't thank you enough"

[heli-writes]

A dragon's heart, part 3.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: mentions of injuries

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Katsuki always gets up early. There's something about it that makes him feel calm. The fresh morning air, the silence of the forest. His dragon and y/n are still sound asleep when he gets up and goes to the river to get some water. Upon his return, his dragon yawns loudly and watches him with a lazy eye. Y/n is still knocked out and Katsuki wonders if anything can wake up that woman. He heats some of the water in a pot and throws some herbs in it that he collected along the way. When the water is cooking and y/n still isn't up, Katsuki stomps over to her and harshly kicks her feet.

"Oi! Get up!", he yells and y/n jerks up. Her hair hangs over her face and Katsuki's sure there's some drool on her chin. "If you keep lazying around, I don't know why I am keeping you around!", Katsuki barks at her and y/n ducks her head away a little bit. He swirls around and stomps back to the tea he is brewing. Y/n rubs her eyes and looks at him disorientedly. She turns over to see the dragon who has raised its head at Katsuki's loud voice. She peels Katsuki's cape away from her and shivers at the cool air.

After getting up, she walks over to Katsuki sitting by the fire. She hands back his cape with a quiet 'thank you'. Katsuki gives her a mean side-eye and hands her a cup of tea. It's piping hot and y/n burns her tongue when she tries it. She almost chokes at the sensation and Katsuki snickers.

Y/n sees how he has a grin on his face. Involuntarily she has to laugh too. "You ass!", she giggles and pushes him a bit. Katsuki doesn't move an inch at her shove but he bursts an even bigger grin. Then, he grabs her head and puts her in a chokehold rubbing his fist over her hairline. "Hey, that's mean!", y/n whines and tries to get out of Katsuki's grip. Eventually, Katsuki lets go of her and y/n fixes her hair. There's a slight blush on her cheeks. She's not sure whether it's because she struggled against him or because Katsuki is so close to her right now.

Katsuki has a cheeky grin on his face when he hands y/n her tea back. Y/n eyes him suspiciously and takes another sip. It's more cool now. He must've put some cold water in it to make it more drinkable for her.

When they're done with their tea, Katsuki starts gathering his hunting gear again. "Are you leaving again?", y/n asks him. She walks closer to him. "Do you want me to stay?", she wants to know. Katsuki looks up from what he's been doing. Y/n points at herself. "What about me?", she repeats again and points towards her. Katsuki grunts. "You", he tells her while pointing at her. "Stay here!", he continues pointing to the ground.

Y/n crooks her head. "I guess that means I should stay.", she contemplates and then gives him a short nod. Katsuki nods back at her, content that she understood what he meant. "He stays with you, so you don't go running off again.", he adds pointing towards his dragon. Y/n looks at the dragon, then back at Katsuki. The question mark on her face is very visible.

When Katsuki disappears into the woods, y/n assumes he needs to go pee before flying off with his dragon. However, he doesn't come back. And y/n is left alone with the giant dragon looming over her. Actually, that's not true. The dragon continues to lay lazily at the edge of the clearing watching her with one eye. Y/n feels a bit lost. She's not sure what to do, so she tidies up a bit around the campsite. She checks the vegetables and herbs she collected yesterday. She brews some more tea. When she's done, she takes a bowl of it over to the dragon.

"Uhm, do you want some?", she asks the dragon. The dragon opens both eyes and then opens his gigantic snout. Y/n is taken aback a little bit by its sharp teeth but then pours the content into the dragon's mouth. The dragon lets out a content grumble. Y/n has to giggle. It seems like dragons also enjoy tea. The dragon nudges y/n with its nose and y/n falls back by the force. Y/n has to smile. "Maybe dragons aren't as scary as I thought they were.", she thinks to herself.

*~*~*

Katsuki lets out a frustrated groan and rams his fist into the nearby tree. "This fucking deer is a lot faster than I thought.", he thinks to himself. He thought he could catch up to them by foot but so far he wasn't able to get close to the flock. Eventually, he figures he won't catch up to them. Actually, he could but leaving y/n alone with his dragon for too long doesn't strike him as a good idea. Thus, eventually, he turns around even though it's still quite early.

He's tired when he returns to camp. Also, he's starving. This time, he didn't catch a bunny or anything else on his way back. He found himself worrying over that stupid woman and hurried back without stopping. When he stomps onto the clearing, the smell of something hearty and spicy fills the air.

Y/n is standing in front of the fireplace and stirs in a pot. She looks over her shoulder when she hears the rustling of leaves behind her. When she spots Katsuki, she turns around and gives him a sweet smile. "Welcome back!", she tells him. Katsuki's heart skips a beat and he looks at her with a grim expression for a second. Then, he snaps out of it and angrily points at her.

"What are you doin'? What did I tell you about lighting fires?", he yells. Before being able to continue his ramble, his dragon moves his head over to him and blows some hot steam into Katsuki's face. At that, Katsuki at the dragon dumbly. Did his dragon... just defend her?

Katsuki is ripped out of his thoughts by y/n's laugh. Katsuki can't deny that it's a heartwarming sound. He scoffs. "Whatever", he mumbles to himself. Y/n walks over to him and takes his hand. She tells him something he doesn't understand and pulls him over to the fire.

Before he knows it, he is seated on the trunk and y/n hands him a bowl of stew. Y/n watches intently how Katsuki tries some of her cooking. "And? Do you like it?", she asks. Katsuki just scoffs and puts more stew in his mouth. "I guess he does", y/n thinks while taking a bowl for herself.

Katsuki doesn't eat two but three bowls of y/n's cooking. He would've preferred meat in the stew but he doesn't complain. He's actually content y/n is pulling her weight by doing something for the both of them. It doesn't go unnoticed by Katsuki that she tidied around camp, too.

After their meal, y/n and Katsuki tidy up the dishes in silence. They're working hand in hand as if they've done this already a hundred times. Afterwards, Katsuki packs away most of the stuff around camp and y/n wonders if that means he's leaving the clearing tomorrow.

Then, they sit by the fire. Y/n stares into the flames wondering what will become of her. She kind of doesn't want Katsuki to leave. Would he take her with him? Does she even want that?

Katsuki senses the woman's distress but is unsure what it's about or how he could help. Tomorrow, he would have to move camp if he wanted to catch up to that deer. He considers taking her along with him. Today, she didn't make any attempts to leave again. Maybe he could take her with him. So far, she's proven herself kind of useful and his dragon seems to like her. At least he hadn't tried to eat her while Katsuki was gone. Maybe y/n could find a place among his people. After all, every woman who becomes part of his tribe means one more chance for the next generation.

Katsuki gives her a side glance. The flickering of the fire reflects in y/n's eyes. Katsuki thinks she looks weak. Compared to the women in his tribe, she's small and there's not enough fat on her body. Living in the harsh mountains his tribe calls home, it will be hard for her to survive. Then again, she's not ugly Katsuki thinks. One of his men probably would take her on as his mate despite her obvious physical flaws.

Somehow, that thought leaves a bitter taste in his mouth and Katsuki shifts a bit. Y/n looks up and meets his gaze. She gives him a small smile. Then, carefully, she slides over and rests her head on his shoulder. Katsuki immediately stiffens but y/n doesn't seem to notice that. They sit in silence for a while and Katsuki doesn't dare to move a muscle. He would never admit it but he doesn't want to scare the woman away.

They stay until suddenly small drops of water hit their skin. "It's raining.", y/n says to herself. Katsuki pulls off his cape and puts it over y/n's head. He gets up and moves the bedroll towards the dragon. The rain is starting to pick up. The dragon lifts up its wing and Katsuki puts the bedroll safely under the wing. He gestures to y/n to move over and y/n rushes to get under the dragon's wing.

They sit on the bedroll together leaning against the dragon's tummy. Y/n listens to the drumming of the water on the dragon's skin. Along with the rain, came the cold. It creeps under the dragon's wing and y/n hurdles closer to the dragon and Katsuki in order to stay warm. Katsuki pulls the cape off of her and puts it over both of them. Y/n leans her head back onto his shoulder. Eventually, Katsuki moves his arm and puts it around her allowing y/n to huddle closer to him.

Y/n should probably be embarrassed to be this close to a man or at least ashamed since she's unmarried. However, these are standards the wandering folks don't submit to. While they get married for life, they are way relaxed when it comes to premarital things. In a way, y/n thinks, that marrying has a bigger meaning to them than to the rest of the kingdom. Her people getting married means they choose each other forever. They don't marry for wealth or politics or because their parents said so. Often, a couple stays unmarried until their first or even second child is born. Being out in the cold all the time, it happened quite often that women fell pregnant before marriage. However, there was little judgment among the group. They take the saying 'it takes a village to raise a child' quite seriously. It doesn't matter where a child comes from.

Thus, y/n feels no shame in huddling closer to Katsuki. She thinks his skin smells nice and that he is warmer than any other person she has cuddled up before. Katsuki however is a little embarrassed. Actually, it's been a while since he has been with a woman this close. For one, there aren't many women around and for second he's got more important stuff to do. His mother has plans to ensure their family's lineage thus Katsuki does not have to think about finding a mate, unlike most men in his tribe.

It's still early and both of them aren't tired enough to go to sleep. So for now, they just sit in silence listening to the rain and the raspy breath of the dragon. They're both lost in their own thoughts. About their people, the future and maybe also a little bit about each other.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tag list: @graviewaviee @cosmicbreathe @tsukikoxo @nnubee @witchbishsblog @elajede @bsallergy @frxcless @berryvioo @eyesforbkg @shamelesjaroflaffytaffy @pastelbaby1111 @iamlizardgod @plvt0fvtvre @hello-peanutdoodle-blog @guccirosegold @kookiemyfeelsposts @sweetblueworm @54fangirl @sakurarr1122 @rv19 @leeliyah @king-dynamight @confused-smol-fan @xmaudx @waterstarz @pinkwhiskerglitter @adeline96 @zoom1374 @fingui @giuli-in-earth @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @futuristicallykawaiiturtle @tragedyofabrokensoul @dynakats @rebel-loves-anime @cloudxluv @itsssyagurll @sunshineandwitchery @cloudxluv @hollykanuki @atouchofmidnight

[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

[spacebarbarianweird]

Fever

Summary: During your post-game adventures, you get sick and Astarion takes care of you.

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Tags: hurt/comfort, f!tav, established relationship, post-game

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

Thanks @tragedybunny for being an amazing beta!

It's bone-chilling cold. So close to the Spine of the World, the snow and winds prove as merciless as demons from the Abyss. Tears freeze on your cheeks. Even Astarion, wrapped in his fur cape, shivers; the cold seeping into his undead body. He starves. The dark forest is silent, with no animals around to prey on.

"Astarion," you muffle through the thick scarf, "take a small sip, I beg you."

"No," he refuses yet again, unwilling to risk your life. Hunger and cold torment him, but he stands on his feet. Meanwhile, you, a fragile mortal, teeter on the verge of death in this frozen forest. Your back aches despite Astarion carrying most of the load. Your feet are numb as if submerged in icy water, and your throat burns with pain.

Astarion grabs your hand and lets you lean back on him. The nearest village is still miles away, and there's no chance you'll make it till sunrise. Nights are long, dark, and unforgiving. You need to set up the camp; it might be warmer in daylight.

But Astarion desperately holds on to his sanity, which he might lose if he doesn't feed soon.

"Astarion, please. We need to put up the tent. Sunrise is soon. I will just lay by the fire, and you can eat."

"We still have time, darling, and save your energy," he grits his teeth. The starving monster within him looks at you through Astarion's kind crimson eyes.

"Astarion, take my blood!"

He doesn't reply, leading the way through dark woods. If only there was an animal, even a rat. Looking up, you see the dark skies filled with prickly stars.

"What is it, my sweet?"

Suddenly, you realize you haven't been cold because of the snow and winds. You are cold from within. Your heart, lungs, and bones are freezing, much like what Astarion feels every moment since he died. "Oh, fuck!"

You realize you now lie in the snow, unable to move, as the air in your throat burns with ice.

"Wake up, gods damn you!" Astarion's voice is desperate, betraying that he' is scared to death.

You hear the loud thump when his travel sack drops in the snow. Then he works on your belts, releasing your burden. A moment later, and you rest in his hands.

"Love, I need you to stay awake. You hear me?"

But you can't say anything. The cold rips through your muscles, turning into ice, and you lose consciousness, drowning in cold, dark waters.

So cold, so cold. It's a freezing grip of death on your heart, killing you. You think of Astarion, imagining him beside your lifeless body.

… You hear muffled talking and open your eyes. You aren't dead, that's for sure, but there is complete darkness around you.

And you lie under something weighty.

You try to move but can't, your. whole body shivers. You are almost naked, tucked in animal fur like some barbarian child.

The smell wood and herbs comes to you. And fire.

Then you remember the sun. And how Astarion carried you in his hands. Horror pierces your mind along with cold.

He is dead. He didn't make it till sunrise. It burnt him; he is gone. And the village people probably found you alone in the snow and brought you here.

While you think, you realize there are people in the room. Two people, to be precise.

"It's a freezing fever," the female voice says. "You two would have been complete idiots if you'd decided to put up a camp. She would have been dead by now."

"But now—is she ok?"

Astarion.

You have never felt so much joy in your life. He is alive and here, beside you. You can't comprehend how much strength he had to pull to make it with you in his hands by sunrise.

"She needs to take the potion. And then sleep in warmth."

You feel the familiar weight beside you. Then, two hands get you out of the blankets and make you sit up. Your head is spinning, and you shiver, though you notice sweat on the healer's face.

Astarion smiles at you and brings the bottle with the potion to your lips.

"Drink, love," he says.

"The taste is nasty," the healer shrugs. "Make her drink every last drop."

The potion is genuinely awful, burning your mouth. You start slipping away again, and Astarion tucks you in thick blankets.

"And people say vampires are soulless creatures. They should meet you two.”

When the healer leaves, Astarion lies beside you over the blanket. You wish to hug him but are afraid of his cold skin.

"Are you hungry?" you ask.

You hear a chuckle. "You are at death's door, and you ask about me? "Take mine," you insist.

"Tav, darling, I ain't taking a tiny drop from you until you fully recover. There is prey in the woods. I will find it."

You want to say something else, but the freezing hand of the sickness grips your throat. You feel like you’re naked on ice, in the howling wind.

"Love?"

"It's still… cold…"

Astarion sighs and stands up. You want to cry, to beg him to stay, but you can't say anything as he leaves the room, closing the thick wooden door.

You feel like crying, alone, and freezing. The healer curses, "You, idiot, stay inside!"

You hide under the blanket in the fetal position, trying to save warmth. However, it's difficult since the core of your suffering is still within. What if you are dying? And you are dying all alone in this village without a name in the middle of nowhere.

It's been years since you left Baldur's Gate together, and you can't fall asleep without him by your side. Astarion is safety. Astarion is protection. Whatever enemy is out there to threaten your life and freedom, Astarion is always there with his fangs and daggers. He doesn't sleep—only meditates a bit—and he is your guardian when you are most vulnerable.

But now you are alone. Your mind grasps consciousness with the last bits of strength you have. The thick blankets don't let you move, and you lie like you’re in your very own coffin of ice. It's been a long time since you were left alone, but you know it's still dark outside. And then you realize you aren't alone anymore.

Astarion crawls under the blankets and covers your body with himself, placing his head on your chest. He smells like blood, the hunt, and forest. He has already pulled off all his clothes, and you feel his skin against yours, unexpectedly flaming hot.

You can only wonder how much blood he has drunk. Sure, his body gets warm after feeding, and the more living blood he takes, the more alive he seems. But this is different. You can't see him, but you are somehow sure his skin has temporarily returned to its natural living color.

You wrap your hands around him and stroke the scars. Astarion groans and adjusts himself a bit.

"I've been hunting," he says, sounding drunk. "The healer told me there is a bear attacking villagers, starved and angry. I found and drained it."

"You shouldn't have risked it."

"I wanted you to be warm. I know how it feels to have a freezing grip on the heart. It hurts. All the time."

You press him tighter and kiss his forehead.

With him in your hands, you finally fall asleep. You have a strange dream—a summer day in the beautiful mountains.

And there is Astarion beside you. He smiles, exposing his face to the sunshine. You want to tell him to hide, to run away. But he opens his eyes, and you stare at him in disbelief.

They are green, not red.

… When you wake up, you feel hot. Sweat runs down your back, and the blankets suffocate you. You get out of them like a kitten squeezed by its mother.

"Hello, my sweet. You are so adorable with this bed hair," Astarion sits on the floor with a needle and a thread. You recognize his own shirt in his hands.

"How awful do I look?"

"You look like someone who finally got better. But I suppose you could scare away some kids in that village. Maybe I should tell them you are also a vampire. Food or bath?" he asks.

"Food. I am dying of hunger."

"My sweet, don't tell me about hunger." He mockingly kisses you. He returns soon with a soup bowl. You try to take the plate in your trembling hands, but Astarion forces you to sit still like a baby and starts spoon-feeding you.

"Good girl," he chuckles. "The healer said it would take you weeks to recover, and you made it in three days."

"And you have been here?"

"Don't offend me with such questions."

"Oh, don't be angry."

With a full stomach, you feel much better and lie back on the bed, letting your body fully recover. Astarion studies your face as if seeing it for the first time. Then he lies beside you, allowing you to place your head on his chest. His skin is cold again, but it feels more like him.

"What is on your mind, Astarion?" you ask.

"I want to stay," he says. "Not exactly here, but I can't live like that anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Living on the road. I can't do that anymore. You obviously can't either. I... listen… I've never had a home. Never had a place to call my own. I want one. I want one with you."

"Didn't you tell me it would be tediously boring?" you inquire. "I wanted to see what life has to offer beyond the city walls." "Astarion, it will be dangerous. No one would want a—"

You bite your tongue. "Sorry."

"Dealing with a nosey neighbor doesn't sound more dangerous than getting some weird sickness in the middle of nowhere. Besides, we can prove to people it's better to have a vampire of their own rather than be threatened by some unhinged vampire lord.”

"Astarion, I am afraid for you. People hate vampires!"

"And I am afraid for you."

You are both silent. You turn to him and nuzzle his collarbone. He wraps his hands around you. Vague memories return, and you suddenly realize you heard the voices while in fever.

"Don't die. Please, don't die. I need you."

A scared voice of a healer. "You are a vampire!"

"Please help her. I won't come inside. I will stay in the woods. Please, please, help her! She is mortal; she is dying!"

You remember being carried to the bed and a strong smell of herbs. "How did you two end up together?", asked the healer.

"She saved me. From myself. Showed me I have a chance to be something different from what I was turned into. Tell me what I can do. Do you need herbs? Ingredients? I will bring you anything."

And then the face of the healer standing above you. She came to check on you in Astarion's absence, and the feverish mind remembered that.

"You are a lucky to have him, girl."

You caress Astarion's cheek. "Would staying in one place make you happy?"

He nods.

"Then, me too." --

Tag list

@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @aoirohi @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire

[dear-tortured-adam]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 (𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮)

eden here had some major solomon brainrot out of nowhere. title credits to my homie @/ilsefieldtrip

You wished you could've predicted everything.

The little splatter of droplets against the cement synced perfectly with the sound of your shoes splashing across tiny puddles. Your grip on Solomon's turtleneck tightened, ducking your head beneath his cape.

The sorcerer must've felt your nails digging into the black fabric, as his eyes looked down towards you. "Shhh, we'll be fine," he whispered, pulling you closer towards his chest. "Almost there."

The rain continued on, each drop stinging like tiny needles against your skin. Breath hitching; the cold biting wind whipped around as you both ran. The world blurred into a smear of gray and shadow, only there were sounds the pounding of your hearts against the deafening 'splash' of downpour.

He kept a firm grip on your hand, searching for any sign of shade. Cover. Shelter. Anything to secure the both of you. The road beneath you was slick with mud and water, threatening to betray your footing with every step. Solomon wouldn’t let that happen — not now.

How long had it been? It felt like forever. Finding a place for refuge was difficult enough, yet to do it under the harsh Devildom conditions? Only a miracle would grant you leverage to not get sick.

But moments are unpredictable, much like the weather.

Just minutes ago you both were taking a leisurely stroll out in the city square. Then, you were looking through windows as one or the other shared their latest rants or what-ifs. Even the weather wanted to gossip, yet the couldn't hold their excitement any longer.

You felt his breath hitch. Only ever getting a glimpse of the cherry red aluminum roof, but in fleeting seconds you were both in safety. While a waiting shed is not the most optimal place, it was better than nothing. You carefully peeked out of his cloak, feeling his hands wrap the fabric around your body.

Solomon was shivering. The only reassurance was a small, weak smile. "I told you," he said with a tiny smirk.

Yet that didn't attempt to hide how breathless he felt. The white-haired man pants, hands on his knees, before collapsing down on one of the red chairs. Utterly Drenched.

You felt bad, but you also couldn't ignore the gush of wind pressing against your skin. Although, it doesn't take a genius to look at yourself. Your clothes, while crinkled and shriveled up from the constant running, were still dry. In fact, you never felt more than an ounce of water touch anywhere near you: skin, fabric, hair, accessories. . .

Until then. His clothes clung to his body, his hair and skin dripping wet as droplets sink towards the white tiles. Small shaky breathes escape his lips; a moment to pause. His shoes were stained by the mud, and you could see the drops form small puddles beneath his chair.

He did, didn't he?

You frowned, sitting beside him as you drape his cloak over his shoulders. He was baffled, grey eyes widened at your action. "What are you doing? Hey, you should put it back," he said.

But as soon as Solomon tried to wrap the cloth around you, you gripped his wrist. "You need it more."

He wanted to protest, but he knew how stubborn you got. That pout on your face signifies that you aren't backing down. Solomon sighs, before giving a small chuckle. "Alright, if that's what you want."

You smiled in victory as you sat together. Beneath a shared roof, gazing back at the rain. The subtle smell of dew filled the air, as the clattering down of water against metal filled the otherwise silence. Once was a foe to your walking journey had turned into an almost endearing sight. While annoying in the past, you felt calmer.

With a deep breath, you rest you head against Solomon's shoulder. The wizard shifts his position, humming along with a hand on your arm.

"When will this end?" you asked, looking up at him with those eyes he'll forever get lost in.

He shook his head, looking back at the rain. "I don't know."

You only huffed in response. Rain never went away, a melodrama of emotions. The intensity, direction, sounds: all would think that rain was a frightening sight. But at the end of it all, even if it coated the both of you a near trip to illness — you couldn't deny how. . .

You asked again, your fingers intertwining with his. "Can we stay like this?" you said, eyes still on the rain.

You may not know what Solomon was doing, yet the faint kiss he gave your knuckles sent a serene wave of comfort throughout your system. He cooed, his free hand gently caressing your cheek.

"Of course."

Perhaps there was something beautiful with the unknown.

written by dear-tortured-adam | dividers by cafekitsune

[emkini]

If you've been keeping up with me lately you'll know I'm obsessed with In the Hall of the King Underhill and related stories by @hellenite, so I took the time to create some beeduo character designs!

Portrait shots, design notes, and extras under the cut. Note that everything here is just my own personal headcanons based on how I interpret the characters and story.

Human Tubbo:

Perpetually has plants in his hair, which one might assume he picked up in the forest or placed there manually. Curiously, however, they seem quite resistant to removal.

Will find a way to get dirt on himself, no matter the occasion.

Shares a wardrobe with Ranboo, and so everything is too big on him. Fortunately, he's able to pull it off.

Fae Tubbo:

Is designed to invoke the image of a warrior prince. He is well-dressed, but not extravagantly so. The majority of his clothing is practical, and his grand cape is easily removed should the need arise.

Has 9-point antlers which denote his age and power. His main beams are hooked forward: these are deadly weapons, and he wears them as such. Conceptually, they serve close him off from the viewer.

Is dressed largely in earth tones, but wears a red petticoat embroidered with dark hounds. These symbolize his history of trauma and violence, and hint at a darkness beneath his initially warm impression.

Wears many animal traits in his favored form, though he can reduce their number as needed.

Human Ranboo:

Has a natural white patch in his hair: a result of hair heterochromia. This may also predispose him to anemia.

Often wears a red sweatshirt, which makes him stand out like a bloody target on the green forest landscape. Thematically, this sweatshirt sets him apart from Tubbo and his later self.

Possesses the world's saddest pair of doe eyes and does not seem to grasp the devastating power they hold

Fae Ranboo:

Matches Tubbo's design thematically, but sports a far lighter color palette and dresses in a less traditional manner. Conceptually, his clothing is meant to represent his youth and gentleness: he isn't dressed for war.

Is young for a faerie, and only has 5 points on his antlers. They may grow as he matures. His wide and open spread serves to give him an approachable air.

Wears an oft-unbuttoned jerkin embroidered with scenes from the Unicorn Tapestries. Often interpreted as an allegory for the capture and crucifixion of Christ and/or a celebration of marriage, such a reference seemed thematically appropriate.

Also emblazoned on Ranboo's jerkin, directly atop his heart, is a friendly-looking hound. This references Tubbo's red hounds and symbolizes the part of him which now lives within his husband.

+ A couple of extra sketches from a magma board with @piersthesniper, who makes lovely art as well. Go check out his blog!

[natalievoncatte]

Lena knew this was going to be a bad one. She was making dinner when she glanced up and saw that the Lakehawks game had been interrupted by a breaking news report. There was a fire on the south side hills, flames raking the side of the building as they reached hungrily for the sky, as if to consume the stars themselves.

Rushing to the balcony, she could see it, an angry red glow on the edge of the city. It was a bad place for a fire. It was out of control and the brush and vegetation nearby was dry; all of Southern California was under drought conditions and a fire watch. Everyone in the city would be glued to their televisions; a helicopter thumped overhead, sending a downblast over her as it thundered towards the fire.

Lena watched with her own eyes, briefly spotting the red and blue streak across the night sky. She couldn’t see the fire itself but she could imagine Kara slicing through the air at full speed, dousing or something the flames in some clever way. True to form, the glow died down quickly. Lena didn’t need to turn back to the tv to know the fire was was contained and would soon be out.

She waited patiently on the balcony, leaning over the railing and letting the crisp night air sweep through her hair. She looked up when she saw that familiar dash of red and blue slow and descend beside her, cape billowing out behind Kara as she landed.

Her face and hair and suit were streaked with soot and her eyes were downcast. Lena said nothing as she placed her hands on Kara’s big shoulders and led her inside. As soon as they were in, Lena closed the doors and pulled the curtains, then swiftly turned and undid the clasps that held Kara’s cape to her shoulders, sweeping it over the back of a chair. From the set of her back and the way her head hung, she knew at once that something as wrong.

She didn’t ask. Kara was never cruel to her, never snapped at her, but Lena had learned to read her and knew that she needed a little bit of silence to process after something happened.

A kind of ritual had been created between them. Lena parted the skintight suit to reveal the hidden zipper and pulled it down, exposing the honeyed skin of Kara’s broad back. She wore a crop top and boxers under the suit, and shimmied out of it, gathering it and the cape.

Kara turned to head towards the bedroom, and Lena caught her with a hand resting softly on her forearm.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” Kara whispered, as the tears began to fall.

Lena took the suit from her and the cape and laid them reverently across the chair.

“Don’t worry about me,” said Kara. “I’ll be fine.”

“You will be, but I’m going to worry all I want.”

Lena pressed into her and Kara wrapped her arms around her, nuzzling her nose into the crown of Lena’s head. Kryptonian super-senses. She was taking deep breaths of Lena’s pheromones and feeling the beat of her heart against her own chest. Kara smelled like sweat and burnt drywall, but Lena didn’t care.

“Eat your dinner. I’ll be okay.”

Lena let her go, but put away what she’d been making; the chicken could brine for up to a day anyway, and she wanted to share this meal for Kara. Lena wouldn’t admit that she enjoyed feeding Kara, whose body seemed so incapable of gaining any weight which was not muscle, but she knew she did. Not to mention the little thrill she got from introducing her to new tastes.

She had a protein shake instead, waiting for Kara to come out of the shower. Kara would wash her suit and cape herself, so Lena left it.

When she stepped into the bedroom, Kara had changed into a loose, threadbare t-shirt and was fluffing her hair with a towel. Eventually it would dry into flawless waves with loosely curled, salon perfect ends; apparently Kryptonians also had super styling amongst their repertoire of scientifically implausible abilities.

Kara flopped on her side on the bed, sighing.

Lena crawled aboard behind her and wrapped her arms around Kara, and Kara immediately sank back into her embrace with a soft sigh. The bed erased their height difference and Lena sheltered Kara with her body, tucking her head against her chest. After a while, she began slowly running her fingers through Kara’s damp hair, and her tuneless hum became a half-remembered lullaby her mother had sung as Kara let out a quiet sob and shuddered.

Sometimes, the biggest person needed to be small, and the strongest woman in the world needed someone to be stronger. Eventually, Kara told Lena what happened, yet another invisible scar she’d carry forever. Once again Lena bitterly thought that Kara didn’t deserve to live like this, bearing the guilt of two whole worlds on her shoulders.

But she did, so Lena would help her carry it.