#fic: “count on me”

[manawari]

Mmmmm!!!!!!!!

Just look at those angst and hurt&comfort 😍

[hahahalfwit]

I HATE MIRROR MIRROR IM GOIGN TO FROW UP

[collophora]

Do yourself a favor and go read the entire fanfic work of @fanfoolishness

(In order: Under sun and shade, Blind Side, and Breathless (patching up is one of my fav too, I just had no cool sketch idea for it)

[zephyrchama]

"What did Mammon do now?"

The greedy demon was in his underwear, hanging upside down from a rafter in the hallway. He tried to coerce you into letting him down as you walked by, but you knew better than to do so without consulting Lucifer.

"Gambling. The usual." Lucifer had a hand on his forehead, pushing his hair up while jotting something down at his desk.

"Mammon gambles every day," you pointed out. "What'd he really do?"

By the way Lucifer groaned, you knew it was something juicy. "I caught him pilfering one of my rarest records, a gift from Diavolo, to use as collateral in a bet. It's one-of-a-kind. I doubt he even knows what it is, but Mammon always has a knack for finding things of high value."

"His secret sixth sense," you agreed. "What'd you do with his clothes?"

"They make it harder to tie him up tightly. He has a slightly higher chance of wiggling free with clothes on, so I made him strip." Lucifer gestured, Mammon's clothes had been put on some kind of mannequin, tucked away in the space between two bookshelves.

You'd never seen it before. Your jaw dropped into the widest half-smile half-astonished expression possible. It had Mammon's hair and his goofy smile. Even a flashy golden earring. "What is that?"

You practically ran across the room to inspect it. It was dressed properly in Mammon's shirt and tie. There were a lot of seams, more than seemed necessary, perhaps from being repeatedly repaired over years of use. "Lucifer, this is adorable."

"It's a necessary tool for my sanity." He pushed the chair back, standing up to join you.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll give you a demonstration."

Lucifer comically wound up his closed fist. With ballistic force, he struck the figure right in its chest. It flopped back, then sprung back up wildly to receive a fistful of lighter blows from Lucifer.

"You made a Mammon punching bag? Really?" You didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"I didn't make it, Mammon did."

Surprise of the day number two. "Mammon made this? Himself?"

To stop the wobbling, Lucifer grabbed the punching bag's tie, pulling it tight and then smoothing it out. "Cute, right? He thought it might make me go easy on future punishments. It's a very thoughtful gift from my little brother."

"Yeah, I didn't know he could sew. Huh." The two of you stood to admire it before Lucifer returned to his desk. You followed him. "Kind of reminds me of the doll Levi made of me."

Lucifer smiled. "Leviathan made you a doll, did he? How very kind."

"No, he made a doll of me."

Lucifer froze to process this information, frowning.

You continued, "I don't know where he usually keeps it, but I saw it under his desk one time. It's pretty big and detailed. I mentioned it once and offered to lend him a shirt for it, but he got really embarrassed and pushed me out. He's gotta take more pride in his work, it was really impressive."

"I see." Lucifer gritted his teeth. "You know, something I have to do just came up. Let's finish this conversation later." He was quietly seething as he escorted you to the door. Along the way he gave punching-bag Mammon a soft whack to the head.

You realized you forgot to ask if you could untie the real Mammon, but Lucifer had already marched down the hall in the direction of Leviathan's room. Rather than trying to catch up, you decided to go see how the Avatar of Greed was doing.

[still-a-morosexual-help]

I would love to see obey me MC in a stereotypical horror movie setting, I think the 0 amount of shits they'd give would be very funny

I would pay good money to watch them go about their day to day life while something desperately tries to kill them and becomes more and more devastated by how little MC cares

Horrific Creature haunting MC, in tears: Can't you just pretend to be scared?

MC: You want me to lie?

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm suddenly thinking about rockstar!eddie shooting a music video on some naval ship and meeting actual sailor!steve who's all dressed up in his whites 'cause eddie's a big name star and the captain said everyone had to look their best and eddie immediately folding for the pretty guy in uniform

just: eddie wanting a couple of the guys to act in the video 'cause hopefully then they'd actually know what they're doing, and asking the capt to point out his most competent sailor. the capt immediately points out one of his low-ranking ensigns (like, brand new baby officer 'cause that's the kinda shit an officer would pull) and eddie, having been raised by wayne (who i'm hc-ing as a navy vet) knows better and is immediately like "No sir, I said your most competent, not your least. someone point me to THE second class. Where's he? I need an enlisted guy." and a higher-ranking chief that's been following the band around the ship all day bellows out a laugh and says "You're gonna want Harrington, Mr. Munson."

idk idk, it's niche but for some reason my mind went into the cold clammy depths of my time in the navy this morning and i was like 'NOPE! don't wanna dwell here, make it fun! make it about the blorbos so you dont get sad!!' lmao

[frownyalfred]

ao3 author’s notes found in the wild that make me laugh ??/????

[lover-of-mine]

[greenglowsgold]

The List.

Based on the Cass Apocalyptic Series.

The first part of this has been rumbling around in my brain ever since that Super Sad Scene a month ago, but yesterday’s update gave me the other side of the coin, so to speak, and finally pulled it all together.

@somerandomdudelmao thanks for the fuel, friend

                              -----

                              Donatello’s days have become a series of checklists, as of late.

No, that’s not exactly true. His days have always been about lists: what he’s done, what he can delegate to someone else, what still needs doing. But these days he’s been doing less and listing more, piling tasks from the first category onto the second as fast as he can manage, hoping he has enough time to empty the queue.

The full catalog is written out in a series of files, reorganized for accessibility to the layperson and meticulously up-to-date as of yesterday. He meant to run through it again this morning, ensure all the relevant instruction manuals were attached to each item and double check his protocols, but he wasn’t… he couldn’t…

He’s going to die tonight.

It irritates him, his own miscalculation of the timing more than the stark presence of his oncoming demise. The latter has been inevitable for quite some time, long enough that he’s gotten used to the idea. But he thought he had another week or two, and he doesn’t like being proven wrong. He wonders if his brothers know.

Probably not. They know it’s bad now, obviously, because they’ve piled him with pillows and blankets and surrounded him on all sides, and Leo has finally gone quiet. But they trust him, they’ve always trusted him, even when they shouldn’t, so if he swears he’ll last a few more days, they’ll believe him. He thinks. He’s pretty sure. If they knew it was tonight, he doubts they would choose to sleep through it. Donnie thinks about waking them up, but only for a moment. He’d like to say it’s a noble act, to leave them in peace a little bit longer, but the truth is he’s just too fucking tired to move.

There’s something settled bone-deep in his chest, a heaviness that sits on him like a stone, a peine forte et dure pressing him down and down, stopping his voice and his breath and his heart. He wonders if this is what dying usually feels like, or if it’s unique to the Kraang. Raph would know.

He cranes his neck to the right, to catch Raph’s face out of the corner of his eye. Raph’s working eye is half-open, staring down at the floor. Donnie could ask him. (He won’t. Let him fall asleep.) The movement of his head is so slight it doesn’t even catch Raph’s attention. He’s too tired for anything more. He’s so goddamn tired.

His lists are out of reach at the moment, with his physical interfaces back in the lab and his ninpo locked behind a wall of oh-god-it-sounds-too-exhausting-to-even-try, but he memorized them all long ago.

Raphael: Maintenance (delegated to Casey, who has it well in hand). Plans (tucked away in a dedicated folder, long term, but someday they’ll have the materials, and Raph will have a proper body again, someday). Honey (yes, he passed that along last week).

Raph has access to the tracking programs, so he can keep an eye on everyone himself, even when Donnie can’t pull up locations or vitals for him anymore. He has his own space in the base once more, somewhere to close a door when he needs to (he insists he doesn’t, but Donnie isn’t a fool). He has more excuses to spend time with Casey, who’s taking over his upkeep. Donnie hopes it fills in some gaps for both of them.

He runs through the list, double checks each item. It’s his last chance to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything important.

He looks down, finds Mikey.

There’s a stockpile of the anti-aging serum in his safe, the formula in his database, plans for the permanent solution clearly labeled. As long as they have his lab, his systems, Mikey will be as young as his years. He’s walked him through the greenhouse, even if most of it is controlled by the computer system. Mikey misses the world being green; it’ll do him good to spend more time around the plants. He has his tea, his candles. He has Draxum, who by now should have received a — mildly — threatening message warning him not to pull any disappearing acts anytime soon. He has their ancestors, just a short call away.

Donnie’s sure Mikey will call on him soon. He doesn’t plan to stray far.

Up a bit. To the left. Leo.

The arm — Leo knows how to take care of it, as does Casey.

The passwords — reset, something even Leo will be able to remember without resorting to blackmail.

The schedule — reshuffled for the next few days, he’ll have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.

The photos — everything they have, even the embarrassing ones. He even managed a couple of prints, and one precious shot from their pre-apocalypse days, something for Leo to tuck into a pouch and carry with him, when they’re not around.

Raph, Mikey, Leo. He doesn’t think he’s missed anything. Donnie lets his head fall back, too exhausted to hold it up any longer.

Is it enough?

His mind stretches further out. He’s unraveling.

What about April? Her prescription is up to date, they just checked a month ago. She has the latest in his combat tech, which has kept her safe in the field this long, so he has no reason to think it will falter now. He’s leaving her a few extra pieces, since he won’t be able to use them anymore. Leo will find the time for a movie night once in a while, he’s certain, even if his taste in Jupiter Jim movies is horrendous. They still have coffee; he’d die before he let that particular supply run out. He will, actually.

Casey. Fuck, Donnie’s gonna miss his birthday. But he did plan for this, his protocols will kick in. The mask is finished, everything is in place. He’s reconfigured his workstations, fit them for a tiny human instead of a seven-foot turtle. Casey has a better head for mechanics than any of his brothers ever did. Kid likes to be useful, so Donnie’s left him as much use as he can. He’s taught him everything Casey can learn and left instructions for more, when he’s a little older and wiser. His family will take care of him, they’ll make sure he gets there.

The base. It has to hold, to give them somewhere safe. The infrastructure is sound, and they have people to manage repair work. Supplies are decent, the most critical items in stock, everything that can be made renewable is. Their allies — Leo handles interpersonal issues and leadership, but Donnie’s checked the list with a pragmatist’s eye, left notes and rankings for priority. Security is the largest concern, but he’s spent nearly half his time with his assistants since his self-diagnosis (he could have spent it with his family), running them through the programs and adjustments, trying to bring them up to somewhere in the realm of his own expertise (a fool’s errand, but still). They’ve been rigorously instructed, they understand that the little things like sleep are secondary concerns. It has to hold.

Is it enough? For them to be okay?

He’s done everything he can. He can’t do any more. So it has to be enough.

Donnie blinks, and for a moment isn’t certain his eyes will open again at the end of it. But they do. At least one more time, they obey him.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home. He rolls back through the list. It’s his last chance. He can’t miss anything.

Mikey’s hand tightens unconsciously around his wrist, fingers meeting easily on either side. Donnie feels only the echo of the pressure.

Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Home.

Something bright sparks at the edges of his vision before it fades. The last gasps of a dying brain, he supposes. Synapses firing one last time before they’re snuffed out.

Raph.

Mikey.

Leo.

                                                            April.

                                                                                                                        Casey.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Home.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                    Light.

                                                                                                                         There’s light.

                                                            It hurts.

                                                            He thought dying would stop the pain, but it’s risen to a fever pitch instead. His brother’s arms are gone, but the disease wraps around him in their place, consumes him. It rages like a wildfire, burning through his center until pieces start to flake away like ash.

Oh, this is what it does, what it was built for. The Kraang could have killed him in a lot of different ways. He’d wondered why they chose this one.

He hasn’t planned for it. This is something he didn’t even know to fear.

It’s bright and it hurts but it’s quiet as he crumbles, folds in on himself like a black hole in the utter silence of outer space. It’s quiet enough that the voice that breaks through does so clear as a bell.

His head turns to follow the sound, instinct. He’s lost half his field of vision, but what’s left is enough. He looks, and finds Casey.

Casey looks at him, at him, not the body. Donnie opens his mouth to ask a question — What are you doing here? How? Why? — but something else sloughs out instead. Not blood. He doesn’t have that anymore.

Casey calls his name once more and starts running.

Donnie’s questions fold back into his mind. His mouth clicks shut, he swallows back the putrid rot and pushes himself up. His arms are shattered but they’ll have to hold him. They have to. Because Casey is here and he needs something, which means Donnie missed something, which means he isn’t done.

His spirit disagrees with him, doesn’t see the logic. His arms don’t hold.

Casey reaches to catch him as he falls, and the touch ruptures him instead. He scatters. Into the air and the ground and Casey. For a moment, he’s just pieces, fumbling around and latching onto anything that welcomes them, and Casey does that. They flow into him. They’re him. They’re…

He’s…

Casey, he’s…

Donatello pulls himself back together. Most of himself, anyway. The infection hasn’t followed him but the damage persists. He’s run through with cracks and crevices, shaking bits away into infinity with every movement. But there’s more of him here than not.

Unexpectedly, Donnie is not gone. He’s still dead, but that’s fine, he planned for that one.

                                                                                                                         Casey has him now. He wraps himself around Donnie in layers, helps hold him together with a kind of sheer will that makes up for any lack of mystic knowledge in spades. Casey asks him to stay, and Donnie takes up the task like Sisyphus sizing up the hill. This time, this time I’ll do it right.

Even better, Casey has taken him to another time, one where all of Donnie’s long-term plans are now completely-fucking-reasonable plans. Casey’s going to fix it, so Donnie can fix everything else. Whatever else needs it. He hasn’t really asked. And he knows he’s missed something, but he doesn’t think too hard about what, not yet.

First thing’s first: he needs a body.

It’s so simple to accomplish that it seems like the universe is mocking him. Just a quick 1-2-3, ticking off the list. It feels almost stupid, like running back through the early levels of a video game after unlocking all the ultimate weapons and burning through enemies and obstacles, laughing, shit, did I used to think this was hard?

In no time at all, his own face has formed in front of him.

In no time at all, he’s gasping.

It’s only been a few hours since he last breathed air, but he’s missed it.

Another thing he’s missed? Functional musculature. Casey slams into him and Donnie is startled to find that it doesn’t knock him over. His arms and legs look like actual limbs again, not fragile little sticks disguising themselves as such. He stands, dragging Casey along without a second thought. The weight barely registers. It’s amazing.

The power trip is heady, but it only lasts a few minutes before reality kicks it in the ass and pulls him back down to earth.

We lost, Casey says.

They’re dead, Casey says.

It wasn’t enough, Casey does not say, but Donnie hears it just as clearly.

All those plans, the preparations, the precautions and protocols, they only borrowed a year or two before they fell apart. He sees the timeline spiral out before him, tighter and tighter until it collapses in on itself, rendered all the more insignificant from his own point of perception. He was alive yesterday. His family is dead today.

Everything he did, it wasn’t enough. Of course it wasn’t. He was stupid to think otherwise.

(Raph. Mikey. Leo. April. Casey. Casey’s still here. It was enough for him, at least.)

It cuts at him a little, to have been so wrong. But he’s strong again, now. He can take the wound. More importantly, he has another chance to get it right.

Donnie breathes. His chest expands smoothly, easily. The air doesn’t rattle in his lungs. He’s alive, he’s a genius, he can fix anything.

He pulls up a list.

[silcoitus]

Reminder to please, please, PLEASE put your fics under a Read More. You can absolutely have a teaser at the top, but for the love of all things holy please slap that baby under a Read More. Don't subject the dash to a crazy long fic they gotta scroll through.

[harbingersglory]

Mayhaps something with (transfem) Kujou Sara fucking a bratty reader who (intentionally) pisses her off to the point where she goes all out with her full inhuman strength, ultimately knocking them up completely by accident because she was so caught up in the moment she forgot to pull out?

I bet nobody expected her to be first out of her siblings to become a parent, least of all herself, but she ain’t complaining!

{☆} characters kujou sara {☆} notes drabble, implied fem reader, sub reader, transfem kujou sara {☆} warnings 18+ content, breeding kink

Kujou Sara was not one to allow herself to lose her ironclad control– she was a general, above all else, a servant of the Almighty Shogun.

Yet try as she might, you..you had a way of getting under her skin in a way that had her patience and will tested. Maybe it was the bratty, teasing demeanor that had her jaw clenched so hard it creaked, or maybe it was the provocative words you'd whisper in her ear while she was trying to focus.

It was irrelevant in the face of her dragging you back to her quarters, her brows furrowed and her lips pursed into a thin line– she tried to be gentle, but her grip was firm on her arm as she pulled you into the delicately managed room, her composure cracking like shattering glass. She wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face when she slammed her hands against the door, the wall nearly splintering beneath barely restrained strength, her expression..less than amused.

"Just what are you trying to accomplish?" She ground out, her teeth aching from how hard she was clenching her jaw– and, though she refused to outwardly admit it, your little..distraction was working far better then she wanted to admit to even herself. "I told you not to..to do such things while I'm working. Do you ever listen?"

She nearly growled– like some common beast, she thinks, and she is glad for her tempered control that she did not embarrass herself in such a way. She still had her dignity. But Archons, you were testing that control even still– the way your tongue poked out like a child, mocking and teasing, as if you wanted her to snap.

She almost considered it, but..you were human, she had to remind herself. Archons knows she's never forgive herself if she actually hurt you.

"What? Can the General not handle a little playful banter?" Sara opened her mouth to snarl back a reply, but she closed it but a sharp click just as quickly, a grimace gracing her features instead. "Is that all it takes to rile you up?"

She wants to deny it, keep her sense of control, but damn it– the way your hands glide across her skin, your nails just barely ghosting across the flexing muscles of her back..she feels her control slipping faster then she can maintain it, her lip quivering.

"You.." She croaks out in reply, trying to subdue the uneasy urge that lingers in the back of her mind with every glance down at you, every touch of your hands, every word that drips from your lips like honey. The silence is broken by a low growl, her hands tugging you off your feet and practically shoving you onto the bed.

"What? Are you going to shut me up? Or are you going to admit you enjoy it?"

Fine, she thinks, fine! If this is what you want so badly, she's going to shut you up the only way she knows she can.

She wastes little time between shoving you onto the bed and climbing on it herself, one of her hands reaching up to tangle in your hair as she shoves your face into the mattress, her other hand fumbling with your clothes– just enough to expose your dripping cunt to her, nostrils flaring at the sharp tang of your arousal, her teeth bared in a snarl.

She can't help the raspy groan that tumbles from her lips at the sight– you looked perfect like that. Quiet, your face forcibly held down, your thighs soaked in your own arousal. She absentmindedly wonders if you'd been so wet the entire time– if you'd just been waiting, no, practically begging for her to just..she can't even finish the thought, her hands trembling and her control slipping even further.

Her free hand fumbles with the hem of her own shorts, freeing her straining, twitching cock, pre cum beading at the tip. Her fist tightens in your hair as she leans over you, pressing her chest against your back and aligning her aching cock to your entrance. She almost snaps out of the fog clouding her rationality, but it returns in full force when she snaps her hips forward, sinking into your cunt with a sharp hiss.

"Fuck," Sara curses beneath her breath, groaning at the tight heat enveloping her– Archons, she'd never get used to it. It only drove her further over the edge, rolling her hips to force more of her cock into you. "Not..not going to talk back?" She growled, huffing and releasing her hold on your hair to instead slip her fingers past your lips. The muffled, garbled response was..far more enjoyable than she expected, the hazy eyed look as she sunk fully into you.

It made her feel lightheaded, to be honest. She was getting a bit too carried away, but the way your walls squeezed against her..her teeth ached for an entirely different reason, tongue swiping over the sharp points before she leaned down to sink them into your shoulder, pulling out and slamming back in with a muffled groan. Her pace was frantic after that, dragging moans and whimpers from your throat like a chorus of broken notes.

She hated how easily you got under her skin, but damn it, she couldn't deny how good it felt to put you in your place. You couldn't even get away if you tried– you were human, and while it made you fragile it also made you weak. Easier to handle.

Even if your tongue was far sharper than your appearance would make one believe.

Archons, she was so close, though. She pulled her fingers from your mouth, nearly crumbling at the moan that tumbled openly from your lips immediately after– she may have chastised you for your attitude, but she still thoroughly enjoyed hearing you. Just knowing you were unable to form anything more complex then senseless babbling was a special kind of high.

She wants to speak, but even her own words fail her beyond a low groan, the absence filled with the slick sound of her wild thrusts, caring little about the stinging ache in her thighs as she pounds you into the mattress without a shred of hesitation or rationality beyond fucking you into silence.

A small part of her, the rational part, tried to remind her to pull out– but your cunt felt so fucking good she just kept going despite the sirens blaring in her head. Even as your limbs tensed and your voice grew hoarse from screaming, she kept you beneath her, nipping at your throat to leave her mark against your skin. She was so close, just..just a little more. Just a little longer. Archons, she doesn't ever want to leave– doesn't ever want to pull out.

Her hands grasp your hips tightly as she nears her own climax, slamming back into you with a broken moan– she barely registered the fact she had cum inside you beyond the thrill of it dribbling down your thighs, not even her cock enough to keep you plugged up as she tried to gain some semblance of control through the haze.

..Fuck. She was going to regret this. She was, every so slowly, coming back to her senses– the first thing she felt was embarrassment, then panic, and then resignation.

At the very least she hadn't accidentally fucked you into unconsciousness on accident.

She was much gentler as she sat up, her cock still half hard as she pulled out, inhaling sharply at the way her cum dripped down onto the sheets. She hated how arousing it was. No– no. She needed to get a hold of herself.

But then again..you didn't seem to be complaining, at least not yet. She hesitantly lifted her eyes to see your expression, her throat suddenly feeling dry at the smug satisfaction on your face.

[manawari]

Count On Me

two.

            "Can't you heal a little faster?!"

            "I'm trying!"

            "Hurry up!"

            Ju-hee gritted her teeth as she pushed more of her mana into healing the hunter's severe wound on his leg. The others were already fighting the boss. She could see some of them had been wounded too, yet kept on fighting instead of seeking for her aid, which made her feel useless on her role as a healer. Most of the hunters were way too stubborn and viewed her as a hindrance, and only then to mmon her for help was when they got hurt in a vital part.

            Ju-hee never understood them. In her first raids, the hunters never treated her like she was a hindrance. At this point, she would've handed over her resignation to Baek Yoon-ho, but since her payroll was bigger than the ones she had received, Ju-hee decided to endure it for a little longer.

            And besides, her family was also satisfied with the amount she had sent them.

            Ju-hee drew her arm across her forehead as she got up while the hunter joined the battle for the finishing blow, judging how the monster had gotten less powerful than the first time she had seen it. This time, Hee-jin was the one who took the wheel and while the hunters were holding the monster down, she drew her staff in front of the face and blasted a deep hole through the skull.

            Green ichor splattered on the ground and even landed upon some of the hunters' bodies. Hee-jin panted. Ju-hee sighed in relief, yet held herself back from rushing to the hunters — the sight was a bit disturbing for her and a small part of her feared that it might get back up.

            *slash!*

            Or not.

            Kim Chul shouted in victory as he proped his foot on the decapitated head of the beast, raising his sword. The rest of the hunters, including the healer, just stared at him deadpanned.

            "Why is that lunatic not fired?" Ju-hee heard Hee-jin mutter.

            Once the dungeon was cleared, the hunting party left the mining team to bring the deceased monsters from the dungeon and returned to the building. The hunters celebrated with yet another successful raid as Ahn Sang-min began to hand each of them an envelope that contained today's payment. Baek Yoon-ho was off to spar with the other guild masters at the gym, thus leaving the chief of the 2nd Division Management Department in his stead.

            Ju-hee opened her envelope to take a peek on her salary. Her eyes lit up. Next to her, Hee-jin was giggling at the amount she got, along with the rest, who rejoiced at their money.

            "Hey, Ju-hee! Let's go somewhere!" Hee-jin beamed.

            "Go where?" Ju-hee raised an eyebrow.

            "Eat! I know a place around the block. It's been quite some time since I've last gone there." The mage tugged her arm. "Come on!"

            Ju-hee let out a chuckle. "Okay!"

            Despite the age difference, Hee-jin acted as if she was around Ju-hee's age, or Ju-hee acting like she was in the same age as Hee-jin. The B-Rank mage still remained the only person Ju-hee had gotten along in the guild other than Yoon-ho, who made sure to check on her as long as he was around.

            Ju-hee wondered if her skills as a healer were truly that effective to make the guild master want her officially recruited in his guild.

            However, she still hadn't made her decision. It had been a week since she made an agreement with Yoon-ho. If she got herself almost killed or found herself in an imminent danger, she'd retire for good — Ju-hee reminded herself of that every morning and every night.

            "Dear? How are you doing?"

            Ju-hee smiled at her mother's voice. "I'm doing great, mom! It feels relieving to hear your voice."

            "Well, you can always come home once you get the chance. I assume that everything is treating you well?"

            "Yes, mom. Guild Master Baek is very kind to me. He's not as intimidating as you see in the television, he is a great man."

            "If that's the case, I am happy that you're working in a healthy environment. I tried not to worry too much since I know you are working hard as a healer and still won't quit."

            Ju-hee bit her bottom lip. She hadn't told her mother that she was supposed to retire. "Y— yes. And I don't think I can quit yet. I like to help people and keep them alive as much as I can."

            Something inside of her pinched.

            Keep people alive? Many had already died in front of her eyes. . .

            "Alright. Take care, okay? Love you, sweetheart!"

            "I love you too, mom."

            Once the line was cut, Ju-hee let out a deep sigh. She tucked her phone to her chest. No one in her family knew about the most traumatic thing had happened to her, but it wasn't as if Ju-hee was going to tell them. They were already worried about her well-being. And she didn't wish to get them worry more, knowing that she almost lost her life.

            She promised them that she'd be fine.

            And besides, Ju-hee still wanted to help the hunters regardless of her desire to retire. She believed all of them had families to reach out to just like hers.

            The door clacked open.

            Hee-jin stepped out, now clad in her casual attire of a white blouse and black skinny jeans with a pair of leather brown boots. Her mage uniform was kept inside of the paper bag she held in her wrist. "Ready to go?" She asked the healer.

            Ju-hee nodded her head and smiled.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

            Byung-gyu shoved his hooded armor into his rucksack. Sirens blared in the background as some miners barked out commands to the others before entering the dungeon. The rest of the hunters had gotten out and were regaining their strength after a strenuous battle with the monsters. As he drank on his water bottle, a finger tapped his shoulder.

            "As promised, Min."

            Byung-gyu looked over and saw a brown envelope. His lips curled into a broad grin. "Thanks, hyung!"

            Choi Jong-in nudged his glasses on his temple with his finger and cleared his throat. "You know. . . If you joined my guild, you'll get a higher income since you're an S-Rank. The spot is always open." His lips was curved into a grin.

            "Is this about your goal on having two S-Ranks under your guild? Sorry, hyung, but you know that I don't like being officially involved in a guild." Byung-gyu shrugged.

            "But if you changed your mind—"

            "Nope!"

            "Oh, come on—"

            Byung-gyu laughed. "You really want to make things go in your way, huh? No wonder why you and Yoon-ho are always at each other's throats."

            "Not always," scoffed Jong-in. "Anyways, I'll call you again or tell me if you're free for our next raid."

            "Yes, sir!" 

            The hunter rolled his eyes and went away. Jong-in had been frequently asking him to join the Hunters Guild due to Byung-gyu's skills as an S-Rank healer, as well as the only one in the country, but Byung-gyu refused like he usually did when he got similar offers. Min Byung-gyu knew the risks if he pursued being a healer in a guild: the fame, the attention, the possibility of no longer taking a break, having to witness hunters die, and the potential call of death.

            He didn't want that.

            Sure, he wanted to help and protect people, but in his own way.

            Yoon-ho understood his reasons, which was why he was the only guild master who never offered him to join. Byung-gyu still wanted to live a normal life amidst getting himself involved with gates.

            Byung-gyu placed his money inside of his bag and zipped it closed. Several of the corpses had been brought out and miners carried out bags of diamonds taken from the inside of the gate. Such things always cost an immense fortune, not even an average person would be able to afford products from magical beasts. Byung-gyu threw his backpack over his shoulder and began to walk away.

            "H— Healer Min!"

            He stopped on his tracks. Byung-gyu diverted his gaze to his back and saw one of the Hunters Guild members running toward him. "Healer Han?" He said.

            Han Se-mi panted for a little before she fixed her posture and cleared her throat. "Are you, uh, going home already?"

            "I guess so," Byung-gyu shrugged. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

            "Uhm— no! Not really!" Se-mi's cheeks flushed. "It's just, uh. . . Are you free for today? I was hoping that you could join us for dinner."

            Byung-gyu let out a smile. "I'm afraid I can't. I have a show to catch up on and I can't miss another episode."

            "Oh, I see," Se-mi nodded. Though, she seemed she was trying to restrain her frown.

            "Maybe next time? I will try to allot some of my time for you guys." Byung-gyu suggested.

            It made the healer's eyes lit up. "Okay!"

            Byung-gyu nodded and continued his way, unaware of the wave Se-mi had given him when he had his back turned to her. Even though he only joined occasionally, the whole guild was fond of him as much as how Jong-in constantly asked him to be a healer in his guild.

            Turning on the ignition in his motorcycle, Byung-gyu placed his helmet over his head and drove away from the area. The lights reflected across the clear window of his helmet in a flickering speed. Unlike most riders, Byung-gyu preferred not to dash between two vehicles, only then if there was a wide space between them for him to come through. He was not in a hurry to come home anyway. Just because he was a healer and could heal himself didn't mean he must be reckless.

            The traffic light turned red and Byung-gyu pressed the clutch to reduce his motorcycle's speed and maneuvered his foot on the ground to halt the vehicle in the middle of the road. The car behind him stopped as well. As he waited for the pedestrians to cross the lane, he looked at the buildings on each side of the road.

            Seeing the vendors and restaurants reminded him that he hadn't bought any dinner yet. Byung-gyu knew he still had some ingredients in his fridge, but then he remembered that he had some money from the raid, he thought that he should treat himself.

            When the signal turned green, Byung-gyu activated the engines again and this time, he took a turn instead of going straight. He drove his motorcycle to the front of the ramen restaurant and parked it next to the pavement. He turned it off and removed his keys to walk toward the door, pushing it with extra strength to allow himself inside.

            Smells of fresh seafood and vegetables danced in the air. Customers dined in the tables around the area, each having indulging in various noodles from the menu. Byung-gyu made his way to one of the three lines and ended up standing behind a young woman, whom he suddenly sensed something about her. She looked rather familiar. Craning his head to the side, Byung-gyu received the sideview of the woman's face.

            "Ms. Lee?"

            She met his gaze with her blue eyes and instantly drew a sharp gasp in surprise. Byung-gyu laughed.

            "Nice to see you here," he said.

            "Er, same here? I mean—" Ju-hee cleared her throat to speak properly. "Likewise, Mr. Min. It's been quite a while since I've seen you in the guild."

            "I'm a freelancer, remember? I don't work in one guild for too long." Byung-gyu replied. "For instance, I just came from raiding a dungeon with the Hunters Guild. You know that guild, right?"

            She nodded. "It's known as the most powerful guild in the country."

            "Exactly. The guild master had already paid me for my service, so I thought I should buy something." Byung-gyu shrugged. "So, how are you doing at the White Tiger Guild?"

            "I'm fine, thank you," said Ju-hee. Then, she took a step forward when the customer in the front left the counter. "The hunters are still stubborn though. They refuse to be healed unless they feel like they're going to die from their wound."

            Byung-gyu scoffed. "They must be forgetting that you are a healer, not a necromancer. You won't be able to help them anymore if they die."

            Suddenly, Ju-hee fell silent. The S-Rank's heart clenched at his choice of words.

            "Oh, sorry! I must've said something bad." Byung-gyu apologized. "I just—"

            "Don't worry about it!" Ju-hee cut him off. "You are right, Mr. Min. A healer's job is to help someone as long as they're still alive."

            "Are you sure? My words might've hit a certain spot."

            She chuckled. "You don't have to be concerned any longer. If anything, you had just given me a reality check since I got too deep on the problem I have with some of the hunters."

            "Is it always like this? You know, I can just talk to hyu—"

            "No!" Ju-hee exclaimed. Then, she flushed at the volume of her voice. "Y— you don't have to. Really. I can just learn how to deal with them."

            Byung-gyu nodded. "If you say so. . . "

            "Next please!"

            Ju-hee noticed the other people in front of her had disappeared, which meant it was her turn. She took several steps forward and met the cashier, she looked down on the menu plastered on the counter and began to scroll through her options.

            "I'll have the crab and seaweed one but with less onions. And oh! The ramyeon too with tofu instead of kimchi." Ju-hee said as she moved her finger across the surface to point her desired food.

            Byung-gyu whistled in amusement. "Wow! Today's raid must've stressed you hard that made you order two noodles. I didn't know you have a large appetite, Ms. Lee."

     ��      "I have someone with me."

            "Oh."

            The cashier snorted before clearing her throat. "Which drinks shall I add, ma'am?"

            "Just iced tea, please," Ju-hee nodded.

            Byung-gyu watched her walk away and his gaze followed her until he spotted her return to the table she shared with none other than Park Hee-jin, who was also a member in the White Tiger Guild. The two immediately got into a conversation which Byung-gyu was unable to make out of.

            It appeared that the B-Rank healer was not entirely alone after all.

            Hee-jin was one of the friendliest people he knew. She joked and bickered around her fellow hunters, yet was soft and kind to those whom she believed to deserve it. It was expected that the new healer would get along with her.

            "Sir?"

            "Hm? Ah, yes!" Byung-gyu snapped back to reality and glanced down on the menu. "I will have—"

            The next day, he showed up at the White Tiger Guild. Byung-gyu had received a call from Yoon-ho that his powers as an S-Rank healer was needed for the guild's raid in the A-Rank gate. It had exploded next to a hospital where the association sent a couple of healers to the check on the amount of people who got hurt, especially the patients. Fortunately, the dungeon hadn't wrecked half of the building, only a portion that destroyed six floors, but everyone were still told to leave.

            A few people had their lives taken away during the explosion. They were set down on the parking lot, covered in blankets. The sight was aching to the heart, it almost made him not want to continue joining the raid. Byung-gyu hated it when gates appeared in such populous places.

            It was the reason why he sent his family away from Seoul and bought a house in a safer location far from the city where dungeons wouldn't appear.

            He couldn't bear having them to become victims of a dungeon break.

            After parking his motorcycle in the corner of the lot, Byung-gyu rushed to the A-Rank gate where the hunters must've been waiting for him. This time, he wore his silver armor underneath a red hooded jacket, topped with a brown one for extra protection against whichever climate kept within the gate. His mace clung on the strap on his back. He also had on a pair of brown pants with black combat boots. The S-Rank healer pushed through the crowd, evading the urge to glance at the victims, until he saw Yoon-ho.

            "Byung-gyu! Just in time." The hunter said. "I apologize if I might have disturbed you."

            "No worries, hyung. You guys needed my help." Byung-gyu said. He glanced up to the gate, it was tremendous and had a thick black outline, radiating a strong mana. It sent shivers on his spine. "So. . . Shall we go in?"

            Yoon-ho nodded, and shouted at the hunters in front of him. "Let's move!"

            The guild began to step through the portal. Passing through it brought prinkles on his bare hands. A-Rank gates were different than other dungeons, Byung-gyu had encountered them a lot, but it didn't stop him from feeling a tinge of uneasiness in his veins.

            The portal disappeared the moment the last hunter set foot in the dungeon. The twigs crunched beneath their feet. Tall trees towered over them, branches whispering through the wind, and the atmosphere was subtly cold in their fingertips. Byung-gyu inhaled the air and smelled a petrichor scent, figuring it must've rained in the dungeon or they were perhaps in a rainforest.

            Forest.

            There could be many potential enemies the hunters might encounter. Gigantic lizards, hybrid serpents, furry beasts alike, and monsters that have wings. Usually, only S-Rank hunters and stronger guilds were able to take on A-Rank gates, and sometimes the Knights Guild too. It must take a lot of manpower to conquer the dungeon. And by this, many would summon the S-Rank healer, considering how his buff skills were needed more than anything.

            "Let's start walking. We don't have to wait for the enemies to attack us first." Yoon-ho commanded. He went forward and led his group deeper into the wilderness. His black clothing embraced his frame firmly, showing his built physique — it was suitable for someone like him to survive in such a place.

            "Be sure to watch out for the trees!" The guild master exclaimed. "Someone could shoot from any hiding places. Protect the healers too."

            "I'll be fine, hyung. I will just heal myself if anything." Byung-gyu shrugged.

            Yoon-ho flashed him a disapproving glare. "Real funny, Byung-gyu."

            "What? I'm just trying to ease the pressure here. You guys don't have to protect me!"

            "Ha ha," Yoon-ho rolled his eyes. "Anyways, I need two A-Ranks with me."

            "Me!"

            "I am, Mr. Baek!"

            "Pick me!"

            "Not you, Kim Chul. You'll be the one in charge here." Yoon-ho said. "Moon! Kim! You two are with me."

            Kim Chul frowned and grumbled under his breath. The chosen hunters stepped forward and made their way on each side of their guild leader.

            "We'll search for the boss monster while the rest of you can stay here, fight if the monsters attack, and once we found the boss, we'll alert you as possible as we can." Yoon-ho explained.

            "Good luck out there, hyung!" Byung-gyu said.

            Yoon-ho grinned. "You too, Healer Min."

            Byung-gyu rolled his eyes at the formality, yet nodded and watched them disappear into the woods.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

            Ju-hee was feeling anxious.

            It was her first time entering an A-Rank gate. Hee-jin had told her about her experiences with such a high-ranked gate; it was terrifying and dangerous, and nobody was able to get out unless the boss monster had been defeated. A lot of hunters, even healers, had died in A-Rank gates. Upon hearing the last statement, shivers clawed the underneath of Ju-hee's skin, not because of the climate in the dungeon.

After Yoon-ho declared his commands, the hunters were left in their circle. Kim Chul was in charge. And a few moments later, the assigned leader ordered the group to start walking instead of waiting for Yoon-ho's return. Ju-hee found herself close to Hee-jin as usual. The mage reassured her that she wouldn't be severely harmed, though Ju-hee reckoned otherwise.

Luck was never in her favor.

If fate was going to be cruel, she'd find herself in the midst of excruciating pain for not being careful. Or worse, having a lack of awareness in her surroundings. Ju-hee would have to spend her own mana into herself rather than others.

"Seems like we're not in the enemy's territory yet," said Hee-jin. "If the night falls, we'll have to find somewhere safe to rest. Time works differently in A-Rank gates than the real world."

"What if we take more than two days here?" Ju-hee asked.

Hee-jin huffed. "Trust our guild master! He can transform into his white tiger form and blend into the wild. It's like he's in his own environment. Mr. Baek will return soon."

"Okay," Ju-hee nodded. "But I do hope we—"

*thud!*

The group stopped their feet. The air collapsed in a deafening silence. Ju-hee glanced over and suddenly. . . Something gripped the air in her lungs tight. And her hands grew pale.

On the ground was a hunter. He was laying on his pool of blood and his arm was detached from his body.

She first let out a piercing shriek.

[xoxoladyaz]

You're My Heaven, Angel (Paramedic Steve x Rockstar Eddie) - Part 2

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Coming Soon)

AN: I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who has been so kind and so supportive of Part 1! I hear you and I, too, want to create a whole series based around this idea. It's a lot of pressure following-up something that's so beloved, but I'm going to give it my best!

Robin must secretly hate Steve.

She must be the most incredible actress in the entire world. She must be the most prolific conman that’s in the business of conman-ing people or whatever. She must have made a blood oath with an elder god during a full moon that no matter how many days or weeks or months or years it took, she would one day make Steve Harrington’s life absolutely miserable. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why she insists on taking the scenic route to Eddie’s room - a scenic route which adds on two additional minutes of travel time instead of heading straight down the hallway (which maybe adds forty seconds tops). 

A route which means Steve has to bear two additional minutes of Eddie loudly introducing him to every single doctor, nurse, patient or family member that they come across on the way to his suite. Never mind that Steve’s worked with most of these doctors and nurses for years now, never mind that he actually goes to Sharla’s poker group when he has Thursdays off with the other fifty-something moms on staff (which Robin never ceases to find absolutely hilarious); no, Eddie is all smiles and arm flourishes, loudly – too loudly – proclaiming that they are now in the presence of his angel, his baby, his angel baby, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his amor, his partner, his husband – 

“Congratulations, Steve! I didn’t know you got married!” Sue laughs as the entire production passes by. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie blows her a noisy kiss before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath, and – 

“I’M GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING - ”

“Robin, he’s singing again!”

“I know, dingus, I can hear him.”

“DING DONG, THE BELLS ARE GONNA CHIIIIIMMMEEEEEEEE - ”

Steve turns back, risking a glare at Robin mid-step. “Remind me why we’re going the long way around?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Come on, Stevie, we all need the exercise.”

“ – GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIMMMMMEEEE – Stevie? Stevie,” Eddie turns and sighs at Steve and okay, Steve can’t tell if Eddie’s eyes are super dilated because of the probable head trauma or if there’s a weird reflection from the fluorescents, but his eyes are, like, legit sparkling up at him. “Steeeeeevieeeee - ”

“Yep, I’m still here.” Eddie grins, flopping to the side so that their joined hands are resting up against his head. He sighs happily, his feet wiggling under the shock blanket, and it’s not cute Steve stop thinking it’s cute – 

“Steve!” He pulls his eyes away just as the gurney comes to a stop in front of Brenda, one of the intake nurses currently on shift. Brenda’s blonde and cute and ethically non-monogamous, but Steve is more of a one and done sort of guy. That doesn’t mean they don’t flirt like crazy anytime they bump into each other, though. (Hey, he’s gotta stay in shape somehow.)

“Looking good today. Is that a new shirt?” She asks with a smirk, her eyes running over his biceps. (It’s not a new shirt, Robin just ran it through the dryer, so it shrunk. Really, he should have gotten rid of it, but it makes his biceps look amazing.)

“Nah, it’s - ”

He has a line. He has a great line. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak it, he’s cut off by a very loud hissing sound coming from his left and – 

Yep, it’s Eddie. Eddie, who’s glaring at Brenda like they’re mortal enemies. Seriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have laser eyes like that one superhero guy because if he did, Brenda would be at risk of getting too tan.

“MINE!” Eddie snaps at the end of his hiss and then, all while still maintaining eye contact with Brenda, he yanks Steve’s hand to his mouth and licks it. And not, like, a gentle lick that you’d get from a puppy. No, Eddie licks his hand like he’s trying to give Steve a tongue bath.

(His first instinct should be to pull away, but instead all Steve can think about it Eddie giving him an actual full body tongue bath - )

“Dude!” Steve exclaims when he does finally pull his hand away. (He hears Robin snort under her breath, clearly having caught onto the fact that his brain broke at the whole licking thing and shit, now he’s thinking about it again - )

“No, MINE!” Eddie growls, and Steve barely has a chance to wipe his hand on his pants before Eddie is grabbing it back, clutching it between both of his hands like it’s his special or something. (Special, was that the word that the guy used? The little creepy guy in that one movie? He needs to text Dustin and ask.)

“Aww, I’m glad to see you’ve finally met someone!” Brenda teases.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies distractedly, trying (and failing) to shake one of Eddie’s hands off of his hand because now that they’re actually at his suite, he’s going to need them. “Brenda, this is - ”

“The concussion patient from Lollapalooza, Sarah clued me in,” Brenda says, snapping her gum. “Eddie, right?”

Eddie pauses from wrestling with Steve to sniff at Brenda and honestly, as someone who spent way too much time at country clubs as a child because of his parents, Eddie has the whole I’m-better-than-you-you-poor-person-wearing-Adidas expression locked down. “That’s Mister Eddie to you, Briony.”

Briony? “Who’s Briony?”

Robin kicks the gurney forward with an eye roll and suddenly they’re moving into the suite. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dingus.”

Eddie finally manages to tear his eyes away from Brenda. He perks his head up at Steve and once Steve’s face is in his line of sight his expression softens, the sparkles coming back in full force. “And it’s such a pretty head, baby.”

Such a pretty head SUCH A PRETTY HEAD – 

“I’ll show you – ow, Robin, seriously?” Steve yelps at Robin’s pinch.

“Stop being horny and help me get him on the bed.”

“I’m - ”

“Don’t listen to her baby, please, please stay horny, and lose the shirt while you’re at it!” Eddie sits up and starts frantically grasping at Steve’s sleeves. “Christ almighty, these arms, arms of heaven, arms of an angel - ” 

“Steve!” Robin barks and shit, he needs to focus. He takes advantage of the fact that Eddie let go of his hand to grab at his shirt and darts down to the other end of the gurney. They lift on a count of three, placing Eddie onto the bed and kicking the wheeled cart out of the way. (Eddie makes a loud WHEEEEEEEEE sound and then immediately goes back to demanding that Steve get naked.) Sarah, who’s followed the procession the entire time, grabs the empty cart and wheels it out of the room just as Brenda steps in.

“Well then, Eddie, let’s get started on intake,” Brenda nods, bringing out her iPad. “Are you ready to answer a few questions?”

“No.”

Robin groans and steps to the side, energetically fluffing and reorganizing Eddie’s pillows so he’s seated up. Somehow Eddie is able to lean around Robin’s wide-armed movements and fix Brenda with yet another piercing glare.

Brenda shoots Steve a look before nodding her head at Eddie.

Right.

“Hey, uh, Eddie, we really need to ask you a few questions - ”

“Hand!” Eddie snaps to look at Steve and sticks his hand towards him. He wiggles his fingers a few times before making a grabby motion. “Hand!”

It’s not cute. It’s totally not cute.

Steve sighs but walks back around from the foot of the bed and places his hand gently in Eddie’s. Eddie links their fingers and squeezes tightly. “Uh, how about now, is now okay to ask a few questions?”

Huffing, Eddie looks at their fingers for a few moments before looking upwards at Steve. Their eyes meet and he grins. “Hi angel,” he lets out a pleased sigh. “I missed you.”

Don’t say it don’t say it DON’T SAY IT - 

“I missed you too, Eds.” 

FUCK.

“Awwwww, my little schmoopers are being all schmoopy-moopy!” Robin sings in her best baby voice. (That’s it, he’s eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.)

“I’m eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.”

“Uh, like fuck you are.”

“I'd rather have you eat me,” he hears Eddie whisper and yeah, okay, that’s one he’s just going to choose to ignore for the sake of what little sanity he has left.

“Right, okay,” he hears Brenda try to get things back on track. “About those intake questions - ”

“Oh, don’t worry Nurse Brenda,” the lilting voice of Dr. Suzie Henderson floats into the room. “I can take it from here.”

Steve turns just in time to see Suzie strut into the emergency suite. She shoots Brenda a grateful nod and Brenda, with one last wink to Steve, hands her iPad off to Suzie and heads out of the room. 

“Bye Steve!”

“Bye Brenda.”

“Yeah, bye Brittany!”

Suzie has the best laugh in the world, and she lets it fly on her walk over. “Hey Steve,” Suzie grins at him as she makes her way towards the foot of Eddie’s bed. “How are things going today?”

“Oh, good,” Steve replies quickly before turning to look at Eddie. “Eddie, this is Doctor Suzie Henderson, she’s my sister-in-law.”

Eddie slowly scooches his butt backwards so he’s sitting up more. “No, she’s our sister-in-law,” he huffs before turning and smiling at Suzie. “Hey sis!” 

“And you must be Eddie! I heard you were thinking about marrying into the family.” She lets out a quick giggle at those words but then clears her throat and throws her shoulders back. “Well, if you are serious about joining our Steve in holy – or unholy – matrimony - ”

“Fuck yeah,” he hears Eddie whisper.

“ – then I’m going to need you to answer a few questions.”

“Proceed, milady.” Eddie starts gently caressing Steve’s hand with his fingers. Steve shoots a look at Robin, who makes exaggeratedly sappy faces while glancing between Steve and their intertwined fingers.

(Forget the Chunky Monkey, he’s eating all of the ice cream they have left tonight.)

“Full name?”

“Edward Anthony Munson.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Name of your emergency contact?”

“Oh, that would be Uncle Wayne and Chrissy! Baby, you’re going to love Wayne,” Eddie says, turning to gaze lovingly up at Steve. “And he’s going to love you! Not as much as I love you though, that’s impossible.”

(Steve’s pretty sure that Bambi eyes here is the impossible one.)

“Great, is Wayne and Chrissy’s contact information in your medical file?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie replies dreamily, still gazing at Steve. 

“Okay, speaking of your file,” Suzie taps at her iPad, “any major events in your medical history that we should know about?”

“Hmmm?” 

He can feel it on his face, he can feel his stupid grin on his stupid face, but he chooses to instead focus on helping Eddie pay attention. “She wants to know if there’s major health events in your past that we need to know about, Bambi.”

“Bambi?”

“BAMBI?!” Robin squeaks after Eddie.

Shit shit SHIT -

“I mean - ”

“Bambi,” Eddie hums, blinking rapidly as he slumps back against his pillows. Once he's settled, he tosses his free hand across his forehead and moans happily. “He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, HE LOVES MEEEEEE - ”

Don’t blush DO NOT BLUSH BODY STOP BLUSHING

“Oh my god that was amazing, I have literally never seen you this red, you look like an actual tomato. Oh my god, I have to tell Nance, like, now.”

“Right, yes, okay Bambi,” Suzie interrupts with a snicker, “like Steve said, is there anything we need to know?”

“Well, we’re in love,” Eddie sighs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Stevie’s hand. “I think I’m still a little high but it’s only weed, I’ve definitely stopped doing cocaine since, like, five months ago. No need to worry about that, angel,” Eddie pats the top of Steve’s hand.

“Yeah, no, I definitely won’t worry about that.” (He’s definitely going to worry about that.)

“Well, thank you for your honesty, Eddie. I’m going to take a closer look at your files once we get them just to get a better picture of your overall health before we run our tests. Now, second set of questions,” Suzie loudly taps and drags a new window on her tablet open. “What is your annual income?”

(Huh. That’s weird. Steve’s doesn't think he's ever heard any of the nurses ask that question before.)

Eddie snorts out a laugh. “God, I make so much money. A fucking stupid amount of money.”

“You have something in way of a retirement plan then?”

“Doc, I could retire for, like, the next five hundred million years.”

Susie hums as she makes a note. “Do you have anything against sharing resources with your romantic partner?”

(Okay, Steve definitely hasn't heard anyone else ask these questions before.)

“Nah!” Eddie scoffs before gently tugging on Steve’s hand to get his attention. “You’ll be the hottest trophy wife, babe. Do you have an apron? I’m going to buy you an apron.”

“And what are your feelings on children?”

“Kids? I love kids. Is he good with kids? I bet he’s good with kids,” Eddie rushes out. “Fuck, you’re going to look so hot pregnant, baby.”

Robin makes a loud barfing noise which Suzie naturally ignores. “What exactly are you looking for in a relationship?”

“Suzie - ”

“Him! My angel,” Eddie slumps to the side so he’s leaning up against Steve’s hip. “I want to wrap him up in a warm towel and keep him forever and make sweet, sweet love to him under the - ”

“OKAY, next question please,” Robin loudly cuts him off.

“So what you’re saying is you’re looking for a committed relationship with Steve,” Suzie ignores Robin's dramatics. “Are you prepared for lifelong monogamy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Suz - ”

“And you’ll work every day to be deserving of Steve?”

“For the rest of my life,” Eddie proclaims and fuck, he actually sounds serious. He actually looks serious too.

Huh.

Suzie quietly observes him for a moment before her face relaxes into a warm smile. “I believe you. Now, dealbreakers. What are your opinions on outdoor weddings? Steve gets scared in churches.”

“What?!” Eddie gasps, snapping back to Steve.

“SUZ – what, no, I’m not afraid of churches - ”

“Uh yeah you are, you said that every time you visit one you get nightmares about being sacrificed on an altar,” Robin chimes in.

“Gee, thanks, Robin.”

“Baby, baby, don’t worry, I’d never let them sacrifice you,” Eddie tries to comfort Steve, but everything that’s happened in the last thirty seconds – hell, the last thirty minutes – is starting to finally sink in and yeah, okay, there’s an obscenely hot and rich and famous rockstar telling Steve that he loves him and sure, he’s partially concussed but the joke isn’t ending, he’s acting like he’s serious and they’ve only exchanged like maybe twenty words total but he’s acting like this is actually happening and what if it actually could – 

“Shoot, we’re going to have to wrap it up here, loverboy,” Robin waylays his runaway thoughts as her beeper goes off. “We’ve got a fainter with a broken nose."

“Okay, okay.” Steve shakes his head and tries to gently extract his hand from Eddie’s grasp but Eddie lurches at the feeling of Steve moving his hands and whines, digging his finger into Steve’s hand.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

“But – no, angel, please,” he blubbers before turning his eyes on Steve and –

Oh.

Oh no.

They’re even bigger and shinier when he’s crying.

“I’m sorry, Bambi,” he replies totally deliberately, “but I’ve got to go finish my shift. I’ll come back when I’m done, okay?”

Eddie sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” he whimpers sadly, and – look, this joke isn't really joking anymore so if Eddie's gonna go all the way, he might as well go all the way too.

He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. “Be good for Suzie, okay?” As he draws back, he glances back down at Eddie. Eddie is blinking dazedly at Steve, all glassy-eyed and rosy.

“Wow,” Eddie whispers, and while the smile that appears on his face is small, it’s the warmest one Steve has seen yet. “Whatever you say, baby.”

“Right, right.” Steve nods and then pivots, making a hasty retreat out of the room.

“Later, Bambi,” Robin sings behind him, and then she’s quick on Steve’s heels. The hall’s crowded, though, so they aren’t fast enough to escape the start of Suzie and Eddie’s conversation. 

(“So, outdoor wedding? Maybe in spring?”

“Can it be in Hobbiton?”

“Uh, it better be in Hobbiton!”)

“I’m kinda surprised to see you staking your claim already, dingus,” Robin says, thrusting the portable gurney mat into Steve’s arms as they walk. “I was worried I’d have to make you.”

“I shouldn't have done that. I mean, he’s a patient, Robin!”

“Not anymore, he’s not!” Robin gently bumps his hip. “He's not your patient anymore so now we need to start planning your next move. I mean, he’s obviously going to say yes when you ask him out, but it still needs to be smooth.”

“What – I’m Steve Harrington, I’m always smooth.”

Robin is purposely silent.

“Okay, first of all, rude,” he says after giving her plenty of time to politely agree. “Second of all, even if I did decide to make a move, there actually isn’t a guarantee he’d say yes. Even if he wasn't just doing this because he's heavily concussed, I’ve hardly talked to the guy!”

“I know, he has no idea how much of a dork you are, it’s great.”

Steve offers Robin a hand as he climbs into the ambulance. (Not without shooting her a look once they're both seated, of course because again, rude.) 

Robin shrugs Steve's frown off. “Look, dingus, I know you think that you have all these great lines or whatever - ”

“Uh, I don’t think, I do have them - ”

“ – but they’re, like, obviously lines. Whatever you say to him has to be more real. He needs to know that if he says yes, he’s going to be going on a date with a guy that has the ooiest, gooiest, squishiest little itty bitty heart!” She squeezes her hands together like she’s holding Steve’s heart in her hands (which definitely isn’t concerning given the fact that she’s technically a medical professional who knows just how vulnerable that particular organ is.)

“Robs - ”

“ITTY BITTY!” She kisses the tips of her fingers. “And that’s why we gotta plan, doinkus. Edward Anthony Munson needs to be constantly conscious of the fact that he’s dating the best guy on the entire planet because you are, Steve, you are the best guy on Earth and you deserve a Prince Charming even though the Prince Charming archetype is totally outdated and part of a patriarchal initiative to establish systematic gender dynamics - ”

Well, shucks. Maybe Robin doesn’t hate him after all.

“ - doesn't exist, its still what you deserve. But more importantly than that, if Eddie does start dating you, then I have a better shot of getting him to introduce me to Chris Hemsworth.”

“Chris Hemsworth?"

“Uh, yeah.”

"Chris Hemsworth - Chris Hemsworth? Out of every famous person Eddie could hypothetically introduce you to, you'd want to meet Chris Hemsworth?"

"Well, yeah," Robin takes a brief sip of her water before shooting Steve a playful smirk. “I mean, as great as you are, I wouldn't be opposed to upgrading my emotional support himbo.”

Never mind, she’s evil incarnate.

(And she’s going to be out of Chunky Monkey in about five hours.)

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[benjaminthecoathanger]

okay, because i saw a poll earlier and i thought the choices weren't clear enough and also the answers i saw to it annoyed me and also i'm curious:

NOTES:

I am including having watched gameplay of a game and not having played it as having watched the source material

In this context if you are writing fic/making art and you are not being commissioned to do so. This is purely for funsies

You getting into something because you saw a post/gifset/video about it and then watched the source material does not count. That's just how you get into new things.

Goncharov does not count because it's not real. I'll break kayfabe here I don't care.

[saetoru]

something that’s always been funny to me is that long fics with smut tend to do better than long fics without but it’s like. if you write a longggg 10k+ word fic with a build up and plot and sprinkle in smut at the end, people will read that long build up and pay attention to the plot in order to get to the smut. and 99% of the time the tags and comments will talk about the plot itself and the way it was written as opposed to the sex and they will ask for more or for part 2’s and as annoying as the part 2 comments can be sometimes, it also means that they focused on the plot and not the smut. but if you post that fic without the smut—as in same fic and same build up and everything, but the smuts not there, a lot of those same people will simply not give the fic a chance. it’s just funny to me bc yes, a part of it is just horniness, but also i think it’s partly that there is also some conditioning to believe that a “perfect romance” or a “perfect story” of a romance is sealed with intimacy that’s more often than not sexual in order to actually be valid. and yeah. idk. it’s an interesting thing to see from a writers perspective

[sysig]

You're still standing off to the side. Somehow, center stage has shifted from under your feet without you realizing, and you're standing in the wings, performing to no one.

Starring Role (Patreon)