#he just immediately got into the bin and said i'm gonna stay here and look cute until u give me my cart ride and all congratulate me

[1heartfanfics]

could you do one of Peter being sick at the tower (nauseous and throwing up, fever etc) and Tony goes all Dad ModeTM, and all the Avengers are like damn, Tony is being so fatherly; when did he get so soft? later tony still showing how great of a dad he is peter falls asleep on him during a movie and the avengers are like bro? ur a dad to this kid now? and tony is all defensive like no-no hes-ok maybe kind of, now stop talking you're gonna wake my kid and he smiles down like *my* kid, I like that

Apparently I'm only in the mood for writing fandom fics rn cause I am just not feeling motivated to write for my oc's lately. Anyway here's a short one.

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"You alright there kid?" Steve asked Peter, noticing how unusually quiet he'd been tonight.

"M'okay," Peter shrugged, not sounding very convincing.

"He's definitely not okay," Clint said, "That is the face of someone who is going to puke soon."

"You gonna be sick Peter?" Steve asked, moving to sit beside Peter on the couch.

Peter swallowed hard, his face suddenly a pale green. "M-maybe," he struggled to get out.

"Clint can you-?" Steve stopped as Clint handed him the trash can, already one step ahead of him. Steve was grateful that Clint moved to sit on Peter's other side, placing a hand on the kids back as he leaned over the can. Clint had kids of his own, he knew how to do this. Steve on the other hand, felt pretty out of his element.

Peter groaned, wrapping his arms around his stomach. His mouth hung open limply and his eyes were unfocused as waves of nausea rushed over him. Normally he would be embarrassed that Hawkeye and Captain America were about to see him barf, but he felt too sick to even care.

"That's it kiddo, just keep breathing," Clint said, gently rubbing Peter's back.

"Does anybody know where Tony is?" Steve asked, looking around at the others. Tony was probably the one that Peter wanted right now. But he was met with clueless stares and blank faces.

"I'll go find him," Bruce said, standing up and heading out of the room.

Then Peter gagged harshly, his body convulsing as he threw up into the trash can. Steve brought his hand up to the kids forehead to help support him and keep his hair out of his eyes. He could feel that Peter was burning up with a fever.

"Jesus Pete what happened!?" Tony cried as he walked into the room, followed by Bruce, who had apparently found Tony rather quickly. Steve stood to let Tony take his spot next to Peter, who immediately wrapped an arm around the kids shoulders.

"I don't feel good," Peter moaned, slumping against his mentor.

"I know kid, but I've got you, you're gonna be alright," Tony said, rubbing his hand up and down Peter's arm. "Can someone go get us some water?" he asked, glancing up at the others.

Clint nodded, "I'll get it. You done for now Peter?" he asked, gesturing toward the trash.

Peter groaned, but nodded his head. Clint picked up the can and took it with him as he headed for the kitchen, presumably to clean it out and get Peter something else to be sick in for the inevitable round 2. Seems like the poor kid had caught a stomach bug.

Clint returned a moment later with a fresh bin lined with a plastic bag, and a glass of water. He set the trash can down in front of Peter again and handed Tony the water.

"Here Pete, you think you can take a drink for me?" he asked quietly.

Peter said nothing, but straightened up enough to take the glass from Tony. He took a small sip, wincing as he swallowed, then handed the glass back. Tony frowned, clearly not satisfied.

"Alright, we'll try some more later," he said, knowing that he shouldn't press too much or he'd risk making the kid sick again. "You want to go up to bed or stay down here?" he asked.

"Too tired," Peter shook his head, eyelids drooping heavily as if to prove his point.

"Okay, come here then, lay down," Tony said, placing a pillow in his lap for Peter to lay on, then helping maneuver the kid so that he was laying down.

Tony could have easily carried the kid to bed, but decided that it might be best to have him out here where he could keep an eye on him for a while anyway. He brushed the kids hair out of his eyes then grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over him as best he could.

That was when he felt the eyes on him. All of the others had been silently watching the exchange. They'd never seen Tony so... soft.

"What?" he asked, rolling his eyes at the looks on their faces.

"You the kids dad now huh?" Nat asked, smirking playfully, although there was fondness in her eyes.

"Well, no. Obviously not. I mean, he's just-" Tony fumbled over his words, caught off guard by the word 'dad'. Was he? Is that how Peter thought of him? He hated to admit that the thought made his heart swell a little. Maybe this really was his kid.

[the-ultimate-wish]

Coming to you straight from Drama's art archive! It's:

A Dante Healy redesign~!

Look, we're all really attached to this design. I know this, because it was so freaking hard to make him look a certain way after changing up his lore. There's something about this look of Dante that screams: big nerd loser who's cynical towards others but takes his potion study very seriously and thinks he's better than you. Also he baby. It's confirmed:

BUT

Like I said, I changed his lore. And because I've waited too long because I didn't want to spoil anything, I'm gonna spill all the beans. So here we go, Dante's updated lore and why I'm changing his design. Please continue to the read more.

Old Dante

So, this is the beloved iconic look of Dante:

Very basic bare bones outfit, in fact, it was from his Undertale days. The purple became so attached, I decided to keep his old look into the fandomless world. He was supposed to be a potioneer/spell caster in this world, becoming the first human to control magic. Which is a VITAL story anchor to what motivates him and why he helps the other teens in the world of magic. He was supposed to be able to "create" a new form of magic, which I dubbed witchcraft. But like, it was way too obscure. So I began thinking about magic in the world, and wanted to take a different approach to how Dante discovers magic, and how could he replicate it for other humans to follow in his path, but also be more taboo.

So science inclined Dante? Scrapped. Going in the bin. I want ghostly, gloomy, magical history geek Dante. But... that look was hard to get. And ultimately, I'm still not satisfied with the look.

And so, I got inspiration from Chongyun from Genshin Impact, who's an exorcist. I had made an entire magic category that has to do with ghosts, undead, exorcists, and the like. I also have included things from Avatar the Last Airbender, where spirits used to possess people and completely change them when the first avatar was around. So long story short, I wanted Dante to have that ghostly look, and that lead to completely changing how he interacted with magic.

New Dante

But some key features of note: I was going to remove his glasses. It gave too much anime nerd vibe, and not cool mysterious vibe. Funny cuz I've drawn "cool Dante" without glasses too before.

Also, he NEEDED to have two accessories that would serve to be story telling design elements. See, Dante is now cursed. He was big on magical artifacts, collecting a ton and messing around with them to figure out what gave them their magical properties. Lo and behold, one of those were cursed, and contained a powerful Mi'shynayim spirit. It had tried almost immediately to take over Dante's body- again humans can't control magic, so he would've gone insane- but Dante was quick to grab multiple blessed/holy artifacts he collected. It tamed the spirit. Now usually, when a human gets possessed by magic, where it overtakes their body and begins to change them (like atla), they call upon exorcists and completely expell the spirit and magic. But Dante realized in that instant the balance that was in his control now. There would be several more times he would attempt control. But eventually his family found out about this and disowned him, because he refused to get exorcised. So that's how he ends up at the group home.

I didn't know exactly what to make the cursed item, but I knew the blessed object he'd keep on him to help tame the spirit would be a bracelet. And eventually, I figured the cursed object had to also stay on him, so that he could easily access it. And then just now, I took another crack into redesigning Dante, and we get this:

I might still change the cursed object because only now am I realizing it looks a little... like a vagina. But I want it to be something big enough to fit in his palm, but flat enough to punch a hole through so he could wear it as a necklace.

But also!!! He's now going to be tall! Tall boi! I don't know how much taller compared to the other tall boys, but I wanted that lanky vibe as well. Oh!!! And I also changed his hair, because again, it was too iconic and connected to the nerd vibe. But hey, who knows if I'll be satisfied with this as well.

With this change, it also changes the way Dante and Kaipo learn about magic together, and thus makes it much more shocking as to why Kaipo can cast spells every now and then. Because it's no longer because Dante has been teaching them spells; Dante is still trying to learn them on his own. Perhaps the spirit is exuding a magical aura, affecting the others?? Who knows~? :)

[kata-sans]

Raising Stripe

Chapter6

Kenny yawned as he dragged the trash bins to the curb. He had to stay late last night to clean up the mess in his private lab. The dumb guinea pig had ruined six months of research. He hoped to never see that rodent again. If he never saw another guinea pig it would be too soon.

With the bins placed safely on the curb, Kenny turned to return to the lab. He stopped at the sound of screeching tires. Kenny barely had a chance to turn around before his face collided with a fist.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“If you're gonna keep greeting me with a punch to the face, I'm gonna limit your visits.” Kenny tried to lighten the mood as he held an ice pack to his right eye.

“Shut the wisecrack McCormick, you caused this mess and you need to fix it, now!” Craig snarled impatiently. He looked like he was itching to throttle the lab assistant. Kenny decided it was best not to push his buttons further.

“GAH! STRIPE SETTLE DOWN!” Everyone's attention shifted to the real issue on hand. Tweek was currently holding a baby as if it were a ticking bomb. The baby in question didn't seem to appreciate his caretaker's grip and kept squirming.

Kenny set the ice pack down and approached Tweek. The baby in Tweek's arms noticed him and immediately reacted. The baby tightened his grip on Tweek and attempted to growl at him. Kenny snorted at the baby's clear disdain for him.

“Well if I didn't know better, I would think you were truly Craig's kid. Let me guess, you didn't escape the mess you caused in my lab without spilling some on yourself.”

Stripe gurgled with indignation. He didn't like how the blonde strang man was talking to him in a mocking tone.

Kenny reached out to take the baby into his arms. He ignored his screech in protest as he led the couple to his private lab. He strapped the baby on a table and performed a physical exam.

Tweek and Craig watched from the side as Kenny poked and prodded the infant. Their faces expressed their concern and impatience as the blonde scientist made notes and checked an X-ray of the baby. After thirty minutes Craig's patience expired and he exploded, “Well!....”

Kenny looked up from his microscope and answered, “Well what?”

“Can you fix it or not!” Craig boomed.

“Look man, your guinea pig destroyed six months of research. I have no way of knowing what all he got into when he trashed my lab. The goal of my research is to grow human organs for transplant patients, but your guinea pig didn't just grow extra body parts.” He pulled out the X-ray images to show the couple. “If you look closely, you can see all the organs in his body are fully human. His blood work came back and his DNA has mutated to match human DNA.”

Kenny watched as Tweek and Craig's faces dropped in despair. He said as he continued his speech, “ Listen guys I’m not saying it's impossible, but it definitely won't be easy. It's gonna take me a lot of time to figure it out but if you trust me I will do my best to fix things.”

Craig and Tweek seemed more relieved after hearing Kenny's assurance. They squeezed each other's hand in support and looked towards the baby still strapped to the table. The baby was clearly uncomfortable and communicated it through screeching.

Kenny scribbled his phone number on a piece of paper as he spoke, “Okay, I've got all the data I need to get started on a solution. You guys can go home. If you notice anything unusual, report it to me immediately so I can examine him…”

“WAIT!” Tweek interrupted, “What are you talking about, isn't Stripe staying here?”

Kenny gave him a dead stare. “Dude I can't watch him while I'm working on a solution to this problem. Last time he stayed here he ruined 6 months of work. Besides, if the professor catches wind of this he’ll revoke my access to the labs and I'll never fix your guinea pig. You two are gonna have to take him home with you if you want me to work on this.”

Tweek looked at Craig with apprehension. They were not prepared to care for a baby. It was never in their plans to care for anything other than a guinea pig.

Kenny could sense their fear and decided to keep talking, “I can see you guys might need some help, luckily I know a guy that can get you everything you need. I'll send him a message and explain the whole situation. Although you may want to stop at a store on your way home, cause Stripe just made a mess of my table.”

The couple turned in horror to see the naked infant peeing on the table.

Ch5

Ch7

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #28

Prompt: “I should have stayed home.”

Fandom/OCs: MCU (Sick Steve Rogers)

Words: 860

Sicknario inspo: "You ARE sick" from this post and this post.

Author’s comments/background: Read the label on this one I guess. Sick miserable Steve as requested with caregiver Bucky. Short and sweet as always. Nothing much to see here. 

CW: Emeto, v*mit. Not overly long or explicit, but definitely there. 

~~~***~~~

Steve was lying facedown on a bunk in the Quinjet when the rest of the team (except for Bruce, who was working on de-Hulking) entered, talking in low voices. Natasha went to him immediately, looking worriedly at the blood coating one side of his uniform as she shook his shoulder. He turned toward her, his face drawn and pale.

"Steve, are you okay? Did you call for a medevac?"

Steve shook his head. "I'm not dying. There's no emergency."

"Then why the hell did you pull out? We almost had them!" Tony shouted. "You almost cost us the fight!"

Steve winced. "I was a liability out there. I was barely functioning. I'm not… I'm not well at all…."

"Wait, was that spear that hit you poisoned or something?" Clint asked anxiously, joining Natasha at his side, probing the area to find the source of the blood, but Steve moved away, shaking his head.

"Think I'm coming down with something," he mumbled. "It started a while ago, even before we left. And I think my side is already healed. It's just the old blood now."

Natasha pressed a hand against his forehead, none-too gently, but pulled it back almost immediately. "Whew, you ARE sick! Jesus, I almost got a first degree burn from your skin."

"I thought you couldn't get sick!" Tony chimed in.

"So did I," Steve groaned. "I have no idea what's happening."

"Well we're not gonna figure it out in the middle of the jungle. Let's just get out of here. We can deal with it when we get home," Clint said. 

"Roger that," Tony said, going to the controls. "Soon as we find our big green friend."

"Are you sure you'll make it, Steve?" Natasha asked. "You look awful."

"I feel it, too," he agreed. "But I don't think I'm dying just yet. I can hold out a while longer."

~~~

Many hours later, Steve was again lying facedown, this time in bed in his suite in Avengers Tower. He heard JARVIS unlock his door and swing it open to admit Bucky, who had just returned from his own mission. Neither spoke at first as Bucky took in the bloody clothes on the floor and the supersoldier huddled on the bed under a mound of blankets. 

"How's it going, Stevie?" Bucky finally asked, sounding overly casual as he pulled up a chair to the side of the bed. 

"Not so great, Buck. I feel absolutely awful."

"It must be really bad if you're admitting it, especially to me. Did something happen to you on the mission or is it just that you're sick?"

"Nothing happened on the mission, but I might as well not have gone. I wasn't feeling great before we left and it only got worse. That's how I got stabbed--I was totally out of it and my reflexes were shot. The team handled it. But going didn't do me any favors. I should have stayed home."

Bucky leaned forward to press the back of his hand to Steve's cheek. "Classic Stevie with a raging fever, just like the old days," Bucky sighed. "At least you're not a 90 pound shrimp anymore. What did–?"

"Oh God," Steve interjected with a guttural groan. "Bucky…."

"Oh shit!" Bucky said, leaping up when he saw Steve's expression. "I've got it, hang on…."

He dashed to the bathroom and snagged the garbage basket then rushed back to Steve's side, holding the pail to his face just in time to catch the rush of sick that came spewing out of the younger man. The explosion was short-lived and, thanks to Bucky’s quick action, overall mess-free. It left both of them panting, though. Poor Steve fell back into the pillow with another groan, this time self-pitying and exuding abject misery while Bucky made his way back to the bathroom, holding the bin at arm’s length. 

“Whew, you ARE sick,” Bucky said, trying to take on a lighthearted tone as he washed out the can in the shower.  

“Nat sat the same thing,” Steve replied with, Bucky thought, a hint of a smile. 

“You’re the only person I’ve ever known who throws up from a high fever. Unless there’s something else going on that you’re not telling me,” Bucky said, glancing at the bloody clothes again as he reentered the main room. 

“No. Just the fever. I’d really hoped the serum had taken that lovely symptom away, but no such luck. It’s like adding insult to injury. And Medical says they don’t have anything I can take for it, either, as usual. I’ll just have to ride it out apparently.”

“And they have no idea why you’re sick? I thought that couldn’t happen to you anymore.”

“So did I. Another thing I thought I left back in the 1940’s. No, they have no idea. They just drew a bunch of blood to run tests, but none of them sounded hopeful that they'll find anything. Lucky me.”

“Lucky you,” Bucky chuckled, sitting back down at his friend’s side. “But you’ll make it through this just like every other sickness you’ve ever had. And I’ll be right here with you the whole time, just like always.”

“Really, Buck?” Steve said, a hopeful, innocent look crossing his face as he lifted his head slightly to look over.

“Really, Stevie. Cross my heart.”

The pair shared a tiny smile before Bucky helped Steve lie back down, covering him warmly.

[bluiex]

Yall making me really want to continue in the programmer Gri and Companion bot Scar thing. Well, lucky for all of you it's plaguing my brain sooo...enjoy this little thing I cooked up :p

~~~~

Grian runs a hand down his face. He had just gotten really lucky, may haps too lucky. He's gonna get hit with a immense amount of bad luck later, but right no he doesn't care. Right now he's trying to savor this little win for as long as he possibly can.

The rest of his team and the bots had done amazing at the showcase, enough the investors are willing to continue funding the project. This win has really come by the skin of their teeth. He was really worried the project was going to get shelfed for the foreseeable future until the company thought it was worth to come back too.

Though, there was just the smallest request by the main investor, the one that is funneling the most money to the team's pockets to keep this project going...

"I messed up again..."

He sighs quietly, already tearing a paper towel off a nearby roll. "It's alright Scar, you can try again. We got about a month to get you perfect for our second chance."

Scar, the android who was named out of affection and not because Grian didn't have any idea what to named the thing when they first booted up, takes the paper towel and starts mopping up the puddle of tea on the counter.

Yep, Scar was lucky enough to continue along with the other android of their line and not get immediately scraped. The reason? The main investor found it absolutely hilarious that one of the androids was accidently programmed to be stubborn.

Yes, stubborn...Thank you Lady Luck for smiling down on him in his time of need.

"Does me pouring you cups of tea make you happy, Grian?" Scar asks, holding the now wet paper towel in their hands. "Even though I keep spilling some onto your counter?"

"Well, since you're spilling less and less each time you do it, yes it does. It shows you're learning like I hoped you would."

"May I ask why you had me take up this task? Wouldn't it be more efficient for me to do a bigger task for more obvious improvement? Or a task more suited to what I am meant to do, like hugging or giving you affection?"

"Being someone's 'companion' is much more than just physical affection, Scar." He takes the paper towel from their hands and tosses it into the waste bin. "Well, I guess in some cases it's not, but that's the type of companion you're supposed to be."

"But don't most people show love in a more physical sense?"

He snorts, turning and looking at the android. "Yeah, maybe, I guess. But not everyone. Some don't really like the physical all that much. They could prefer...time spent together, or loving words, or having their partner do something for them, or maybe a mix of all that."

Scar stays quiet, processing the words he just said. He suddenly feels like he said something wrong...Like things are going to get more difficult from here on out.

"It's not like I'm saying you have to stop hugging," He says softly. "Nor am I saying you being physical is wrong. Physically comforting someone is probably the easiest thing for most people to do. I'm just saying that there's much more to...loving someone, I guess, than how much you're physical with them."

"I don't believe I have been programmed much about anything other than being physically affectionate..."

"And that's fine Scar, that's why I'm having you do some small things."

Scar tilts their head. "Please explain."

"Well...When I'm having a bad day, it would mean much more if my partner brought me my favorite snack or drink to me when they were coming to comfort me. It just shows that they were thinking of what would make me happy."

"...I'm still am unsure if I completely understand."

The little indicator on the side of Scar's head turns orange, showing the android is getting stressed. Yep...This was a bad time to have this conversation.

"It's alright you're not really following what I'm saying, I don't really think I'm the best at explaining things like this...Tell you what, lets take a small break from teaching you things you don't really understand and circle back to what you do know."

"What do you wish to do?"

"Let's just...How about we sit on the couch and watch some tv? We can hold hands while sitting."

Scar nods, carefully brushing their hand against his before interlacing their fingers with his. He starts to gently lead them away from the counters and out of the kitchen, tugging them along as he leads the to the living room.

"...I'm sorry for being such a incomplete unit," They say, a small tinge of sadness in their voice. "I understand if you feel frustrated with how much you have to input into my code."

"It's not your fault, Scar. You didn't ask to be sent out in such a condition, and you did your best in the small amount of time we had before the showcase. I'm just glad we got more time."

"Will I been given orders from someone other than you at the next showcase coming up?"

"Probably...But I hope at the slower pace we're going now helps to not have a repeat of what happened last time. You had been force-fed a lot of information in a small amount of time that it overwhelmed you, and you struggled with comprehending all of that information that it made you freeze up...Right?"

"...That's a possibility."

He stops, turning around and reaching up to cup their cheek. "So things should be easier on you this time. You'll actually have time to process everything instead of having to deal with so much new information at once. And we'll be able to go over the things we weren't able to last time."

Scar gives him with a rather blank look as he pats their cheek. Hmm...Can give physical affection, but can't process receiving it? Just how little programming was done on them before they were sent to him? Should he even trying to touch up on that in case he breaks something?

Eh, it's not like he couldn't fix them if he does do something wrong. He's practically building up their whole entire code, shouldn't be to hard to fix any and all errors he creates. He could even tweak their learning software a tad.

Probably could make it work better than the shell of a program the last person working on them left in their system...Probably.

Amazing amazing amazing!! Uhggnnnhnh this is so good.. You depicted Scar being an android so well

[rotfics]

don't do that!

zoey and dredge fic / self harm/guns (does nothing bc zombie, but still bad)

Zoey patrolled her bunker; A slightly underground area where she did weird ass science shit, kept prisoners, made weird and horrid creatures of flesh and metal. She clasped her hands together, snuffling. Sometimes Dredge hung out down here, not usually without her, but he wasn't upstairs or in the outer zones, so she figured she'd check down h-

A LOUD bang rung out and made her jump back, eyes wide. It took her a minute to recognize it was a gunshot. She immediately scrambled down the hall to the room Dredge sometimes... hurt himself in. She damn near slipped getting there but she slid into the doorway. He looked up at her, the side of his head bleeding. He looked away.

Her grin fell as she scrambled up to him, patting the entry wound on his head. She never frowned, really, but her best friend doing bad shit to himself made her grin go down.

He sighed. "I'm fine, Zoey," he sat up and tossed the gun away. It was clear he used it more than once. She wilted and grabbed his shoulders. He looked at his hands.

"...It's not gonna hurt me or anything, okay?"

Zoey knew full well why he did this. Sure, he couldn't die or anything; But he did this when he tried...harming himself. She shook her head "no" rapidly and took hold of him, actually picking him up and carrying him.

"oH HELL GIRL THE FUCK- S'GOIN ON?!"

She genuinely refused to respond as she went up the elevator from her bunker to the main house, gripping him as he squirmed.

"ZOEY!"

All he got was an upset HUFF.

When they got up...shit. No one else was home. That was fine, this was fine, she...she could do this. She can handle this! He was her best friend in the world, after all!

She looked around and perked up, walking over to a beanbag chair and flomping him down on it. He coughed.

"What in the f-"

She papped his face as she went into the kitchen next to him and...stalled. Shit. What do people like. Uhh... the tea thing! Sunny likes tea too. Yes. That. She filled a mug with water and stared at the microwave. This was faster. Right. Okay. She put the thing inside and pressed express.

Dredge was absolutely confused and tried to get up, but got glared at, Zoeys hands frantically gesturing for him to sit and stay put. He was bewildered, but did as she said.

Zoey took the mug out the microwave, luckily neither she or he could really feel heat pain so. She picked a teabag from the "blue" bin (chamomile) and stared at it a bit. Yes. She is doing a good friend thing. For her best friend.

Her smile fell again as she thought about him... doing bad stuff to himself. She actually frowned. Again.

Dredge caught a glance of her frown and sat up. Shit. She NEVER frowned. Wow, okay, he fucked up. Bad.

He cleared his throat.

"Zoey? You good?"

She jumped a bit and scuttled over with the tea, smiling...but it was worried. He sighed a bit and took the mug with his claws and placed it on the opposite side. She looked at him funny.

He cleared his throat, and put a claw on her cheek.

"Hey, big girl."

She perked up.

"I'm uh...I'm sorry I did...what I did, okay? I was..I'm sorry," He rubbed the back of his head. "I didn't know YOU would care that mu-"

Zoey headbutted him a bit (not that hard but enough to stop talking)

"Ow. ...Right."

Zoey bonked heads again and stared at him.

Dredge blinked, mumbling "ow".

"...Right, right, right, we're best friends."

Zoey headbutted him again.

"OKAY! Fuckin- Ow-"

Again.

"I'M SORRY! I'm sorry! I was just upset-"

Bonk.

"OW! ALRIGHT I will come see you if I feel that upset again!"

Zoey squinted.

"YES I promise! I'm sorry! Jesus fuck you headbutt so HARD-"

Zoey grinned a happy grin and grabbed him tight, wiggling around, "talking" to him.

"...I love you too, girl. Sheesh.." He smiled a bit as his weird ass bestie grabbed him close. He muttered "Good thing I don't gotta breathe," quietly. She stared at him. He buried his face in her arm.

"Can.. I just sleep for a bit.”

Zoeys smile softened a bit as she clung to him. Yes. Hers. Her best friend.

…He held one of her arms as he fell asleep. She shut her eyes with him.

[vgucciking]

Punching Bag

7 Chapter "The Local Dead Kids"

"Uh? Thanks?" I hesitantly replied, Robin nodded his head towards the cafeteria. We walked in silence but I could feel his occasional stares.

Seeing the others sitting at the same table, we made our way to them. Bruce avoiding eye contact. Why is he so mad about me and Griffin being friends?

Finney and Billy smiled, while Vance just gave a quick look, letting me know that he's aware of my presence. Taking a seat next to Finney, and Billy it was a bit too quiet.

"Y/n and Griffin are friends" Bruce abruptly said, catching me and the others off guard. "It's true, he was hanging around her locker." Robin confirmed.

Narrowing my eyes, I shrugged my shoulders viciously "And?" "You, and Griffin?" Finney asked, not wanting to believe the other two boys. "Yes. We are, and Bruce, not everyone has to know."

He mocked me by repeating my shoulder shrug and said "And?" Is he trying to make me mad? Because if so, it's working. But I wasn't the only one mad.

Vance slammed his hands on the table. People in the cafeteria didn't dare to look, they didn't even hear it. Not like they could.

"Your friends with that little SHIT!?" Ok, mad was an understatement, he was a ball of raging flames. About to pop and explode any minute. No wonder no one talks, or goes near him.

Not answering his reply, this seemed to make him even more furious, if that's even possible. "So it's true." He grabbed his food tray, walked to the bin and threw the whole thing in. Stomping his way out into the hallways.

Sitting there in pure shock, I went to say something but, Robin and Bruce stood up and followed after Vance. Was it my fault? In my opinion not really. In their eyes? Maybe it was my fault.

Finney and Billy looked at each other before looking at me. "Uhh..." Finney didn't know what to say. Like he agreed with the others. But he wasn't as mad, he had the others for that.

Billy shook his head in disappointment. "Y/n I told you to stay away from him" "HEY! There was only one seat left, which was next to Griffin." I defended, can someone just blame Griffin for a second? Like I'm literally getting bloody scolded by people who are acting like my parents.

"Billy it's not her fault. If the only seat was next to Griffin, then what else could she have done? Sit on the floor?" I had to hold a laugh back at Finns last remark. First time seeing him being sarcastic.

"Thanks Finn at least someone doesn't blame me for something" I appreciated. Billy sighed, obviously knowing he can't argue with us both. Next minute we see Bruce running back in.

He looked tired out as if he just ran a lap to get over here "guys! Bad news. They're gonna get Griffin." Knowing what he meant, I immediately stood up and told Bruce to take me two the other two.

Finn and Billy following behind. Bruce led us out the door to the field. Where LOTS of kids stood in a circle. Oh no. Pushing throw the crowd I seen Vance and Robin walking around Griffin.

Keeping him in the middle of them both. Eyeing him as if he was their prey. Vance stopped in front of the smaller kid and got up into his face. "I'm gonna have such a fucking fun time landing a number on you" Robin then grabbed the boys shoulder from behind, turning him around he punched Griffin square in the face.

Vance kicked the boy in the stomach, after he had fell to the floor. Shit I have to stop this. "Stay away from Y/n, pota" Robin warned, as he stated at the now bleeding boy. Vance stood over him.

Grabbing his blouse, he pulled Griffin up on his feet again, bringing him to his own face. "And if you don't. You'll turn into my next punching bag." Shoving him back down, he looked around and saw me.

Storming towards me, he yanked me away from everyone, his hold steel on my arm. From behind I heard Robin "You heard him." Before following after us with the rest of the boys.

~

"Give me your hand you idiot." Me, Vance, and Robin were both in the males toilets. Me cleaning Robins bloody hands from punching Griffin, and Vance just chilling with us two.

"You two seriously need to keep your chill." They didn't say anything. Wiping Robins knuckles a bit too harshly, he hissed. "That hurts" He let out a slight groan. "Hmm. Really? I wonder what Griffin would say about that"

Vance laughed a little, finding this whole thing funny. "And what's so funny Vance?" I quirked an eyebrow and stared at the curly headed boy.

Walking over to the bin I threw the bloodied toilet paper into the trash. Turning around, leaning up against the wall, awaiting for Vance to speak.

"Nothing. Nothing." Not believing him, I walked back over to the sink, turning it on and washing my hands. "Sure"

"Don't be mad. Be grateful he isn't gonna be bothering you anymore." Robin explained. Is he serious right now? Ok maybe he did follow me home. But really? Beating him up over me sitting next to him. I wonder what would've happened if I said he followed me home.

"He wasn't bothering me in the first place" I spat out, quickly walking towards the exit and leaving.

The two boys looked at each other in silence, not knowing what to do. "She'll thank us later" Vance said with a smirk.

I should've listened. I should've believed him.

—————— Instagram ~ v_guccciking Tiktok ~ im_okie

[fuzzyducktyphoon]

Killua x Mika x Confession of love

Mika was sitting in Killua's room, and Killua was lying on his back in bed without a shirt. He was still ignoring Mika because she... she spoke from a friend of hers who claimed he hated him...

"Come on, Killua, stop acting like a child. I told you he's just a friend,"

Mika says, squeezing his cheek gently.

Killua rolled over, grunting at the touch of Mika. She was still pestering him over such a trivial matter. A childish crush.

He couldn't be bothered to explain to her that he wasn't interested in any such thing, instead, he ignored her, hoping for her to take the hint.

But when she tried to get a rise out of him with the whole

"acting like a child"

comment, he let out a tired scoff.

"Just drop it,"

he grumbled.

“Come on,”

she kisses his cheek gently,

“my love...my little kitten,”

she teases him

Killua stiffened at the kiss on his cheek, feeling a heat on his cheeks from that and the nickname. Now, *that* got a reaction from him. He sat up and turned his body toward her, his stare locking on her with a frustrated frown.

"I said, drop it, Mika. You're annoying."

“Oh, but I don’t want to, haha, my boyfriend is angry with me and I’m trying to please him. Is this a problem?”

She puffs her cheeks childishly as she plays with her locks.

Killua was starting to get frustrated at Mika's persistence here. He couldn't help but look away as her childish behavior came out once again, rolling his eyes as he did so.

"Stop being childish. I'm not your boyfriend. I *never* will be. Now, drop it,"

he grumbled.

"Before you make it worse and I *do* get angry with you."

“No,”

Mika says, still sitting on his lap.

"Look, Mika...,"

Killua said, trying his best to stay calm. His tone was less grumbly now, and more insistent.

"I said to stop. And if I say it again, I'm not gonna be nice about it. I don't know what you think we are... but we're not a thing."

"You're a liar. I know you love me...when I kissed you for the first time, when I pulled you out of the torture chamber in your family's palace."

She raises her eyebrows at him, crossing her arms.

Killua narrowed his eyes, his frown deepening as he thought back to it now. *She was right... he... he did kind of like that...* But that didn't matter. He wouldn't admit that to her. Not now, not ever. He stood up now, finally removing the annoying woman sitting on his lap.

"That was just a one time thing. A mistake I made when I was confused and vulnerable."

“So you're saying it's a mistake,”

Mika says, sounding a little angry.

"What I'm saying,"

Killua said with a scoff, not caring about her anger or hurt feelings any longer.

"Is that I'm not interested in you, and you need to get that through your thick skull!"

He shouted.

"Now, stay out of my way."

Killua then opened his bedroom door and stepped out into the hall, slamming the door behind him.

(time skip)

After Killua returned to his room, he did not find Mika there, but she left a short message on the bed

“If you didn’t love me, you shouldn’t have accepted me in the first place and given me false hopes like your foolish face, but that’s okay, if you don’t love me, I won’t get close to you again.”

Killua glanced at the message on the bed. The guilt immediately set in, knowing that what Mika's words were, deep down inside was truth. But he wasn't willing to admit that to anyone. He let out a frustrated sigh, crumpling up the note and tossing it into a nearby bin.

*That's that taken care of,* he thought to himself. Although... he still *would* have to deal with her. She wasn't one to take a hint, he knew that much. But... maybe if he stayed out of her way, she'd get the message.

After the days passed, Mika was completely ignoring Killua. She was only talking to Gon, but she did not pay him any attention...even when he was walking next to her, she would stay away from him.

Killua noticed Mika's change in behavior after some time. She had been avoiding him, only talking to Gon for the time being. Killua was initially relieved.

Maybe she had taken the hint at last. But then it started getting to him. He missed seeing her, just being near her.

After the match, Gon was injured in his arm, and she was taking great care of him, cutting fruit for him and bandaging his wounds. She was giving all her attention to Gon, but she was only giving him ignorance.

Killua could only watch, his frustration building with each action she took for Gon, each sign of comfort and care she gave him. But Killua was ignored, left with nothing. He looked around, trying to get some time to talk to her, but she was always busy with Gon. He was so *jealous*.

Finally, when Gon was sleeping after his wounds had been tended, Killua approached her, his tone quiet and apologetic.

"Mika... can I talk to you?"

he asked gently.

But Mika skips him and doesn't even look at him...and puts the plate of fruit on the table. Killua's patience begins to run out...

Killua took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He couldn't help but look to Gon as he slept, the jealousy still eating away at him. He felt his patience running out, but had to try one more time, for their friendship's sake.

"Mika...,"

he said, taking a step closer to her. He lowered his voice to avoid disturbing Gon, still asleep

. ".. talk to me. I just... want to know why you're ignoring me."

Mika looks at him angrily, then grabs a white piece of paper and writes something on it, then sticks the note firmly into his chest, on which it was written..

“Stop acting like an idiot and stop following me. You told me to get out of your way and I dismissed your request.”

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, turned her back to him, and continued putting Gon's things in his bag. Killua was angry now .

Killua read the note and furrowed his brows in confusion. He could not argue with what she had written. He... *had* told her to stay away from him, but now he regretted it. He wanted her attention again, wanted her to show him the care and consideration that she had shown Gon.

But before Killua could respond, Mika turned away, seemingly dismissing him once more. Killua was now angry. He reached back and grabbed the note from his chest, crumpling it and tossing it into the nearby bin. *I'm done asking nicely.* He thought.

"Mika!"

he shouted, grabbing the girl and spinning her around to face him, his anger clear in his tones.

"What are you *thinking*! I never said you had to completely ignore me! I said to stop *pestering* me! Not... not to treat me like I don't matter at all!"

Mika writes something else and gives it to him. It was written

“Get your hand away before I break it like Gon now.”

She looked at him angrily. She didn’t even want to talk to him. She was writing letters to him.

Killua read the note, but he didn't release Mika's arm. He was still angry and his grip was tight, causing Mika some minor discomfort. But he wasn't willing to let go just yet.

"Don't ignore me,"

he shouted.

"Don't pretend that I *don't matter* when you've been chasing me from the *beginning*. You can't just... cut me off like this and expect me to be alright with it!"

She writes another letter and holds it up to his face,

"It's not my fault that I'm doing what you told me...You told me to stay away from me and I stayed away from you. Don't act like a little child and leave me alone."

Killua read the note and let out a frustrated groan. He didn't like hearing the truth, but he had to admit that Mika was right. He was being childish, just because she wasn't talking to him any longer.

"Fine..."

Killua grumbled.

"I just... I miss you... that's all..."

He could barely get the words out.

Mika snorted sarcastically as she looked at him and rolled her eyes in annoyance...and wrote something to him,

"I don't need someone to miss me who kissed me and then say it was a mistake because he was disappointed."

She puts the letter in his hands, then turns and walks towards Gon to cover him well.

Killua read the letter, his eyes growing wide with shock and his cheeks growing red with embarrassment as he did so.

"But it wasn't a mistake..."

he mumbled, looking down at his feet.

"I didn't mean what I said... it *was* dumb... I was being stupid."

Killua knew he had blown this whole thing out of proportion, and knew that he really had been acting childish this whole time. He sighed, then slowly let Mika go. He had to make things right with her somehow.

(After a month)

Mika was still ignoring him this time, but with more force. She was even ignoring the path he was walking on, so much so that he did not see her face for three days...

Mika was waiting for the elevator, but when the doors opened, she found Killua putting his hands in his pockets and looking at her coldly and angrily.

"Dammit,"

Mika muttered as she was about to leave, but Killua grabbed her hand and pulled her into the elevator.

Killua pulled Mika into the elevator with him. He didn't say a word, but just stared at her with an angry, cold frown on his face.

It was as if his whole persona had changed, from his gentle and friendly demeanor to a cold and aloof individual. He was tired of Mika being dismissive toward him, and that was the end of it.

He didn't even give her the chance to say anything, just pressed a button for the next floor, keeping her close by as the elevator descended.

She was trying to pull her hands away from him but he was still holding her tightly and then Killua pressed a button that made the armrest stop working for three hours

“The hell are you crazy?”

Mika shouted forcefully at him. This was the first time she had spoken to him after a month of being ignored .

Killua kept his grip tight as Mika struggled, his scowl growing deeper still. Finally, when she spoke, he spoke back. There was no hint of friendliness in his tone, only cold anger.

"You ignored me,"

he said bluntly.

"For over a month. I wanted to talk it over, I told you I was sorry. You could have talked to me, but you chose to ignore me instead. I didn't like it."

He was furious now, and didn't hold back on showing it.

"I wanted to talk to you,"

he said, looking down at her with a serious stare.

"But when I tried to bring it up the normal way, you kept ignoring me. So... I had to resort to this."

His tone was much more cold and harsh. He didn't care how she felt, he was getting the answers he desperately wanted.

“Yes, and I will continue to ignore you,”

Mika answers sarcastically, looking at him.

“Once I get out, I will continue to ignore you, you idiot.”

Mika says, trying to pull her wrist away.

Killua wasn't willing to let that happen. He tightened his grip even more, pulling Mika as close as possible to him.

"No, you will not,"

he growled. His tone was frighteningly serious now.

"You're going to listen to me right now,"

he continued, looking down at her with a glare.

"Then, you're going to forgive me and we're going to act like nothing happened."

His grip grew tighter still.

Mika approaches him with a cold and sarcastic look,

“Was that a threat from you or what, Mr. Killua Zoldyck...”

She smiles sarcastically as she looks away angrily, then looks back at him.

Killua looked at her with a dark glare, his grip tightening further still.

"I don't joke when it comes to you, Mika,"

he growled.

His thumb pressed into her wrist, causing some light pain as he did so.

"So forgive me or..."

He left the last bit ambiguous on purpose, not wanting to spell it out. The threat was clear enough without him saying more.

"What? Will you hit me, Killua, or will you do what you're good at, killing?"

Mika says sarcastically as she looks at him.

Killua scowled. He hated it when Mika had something snarky to say. She had this annoying ability to get under his skin and irritate him to no end. He knew it was the whole reason she did it, but it still annoyed him. He pressed his thumb even harder into the wrist, his glare growing darker still.

"I wouldn't have to do anything to you if you'd just..."

he left the last part ambiguous again, but the meaning was still clear enough. Why was she making this so difficult.

“Why did Killua kiss me that day?”

Mika asked in a cold tone.

“Why?”

Killua stared at Mika as she finally asked him the big question.

"That... because I was stupid,"

he said, his tone still angry.

"I was confused back then. You reminded me of people I cared about, and I acted stupidly."

He let out a frustrated and annoyed huff, releasing the pressure on her wrist as he did so. Was that the key? If she finally knew the truth, would she stop being so dismissive toward him.

"You kissed me because you think it's stupid, huh,"

she let out a sarcastic laugh,

"because I reminded you that Gon, Kurpika, and Leorio said I saw you again. I was just something to take out your anger on, I guess."

Her voice was very angry.

Killua stared back silently. Mika was probably right, but he still didn't want to admit it. But he also knew he couldn't just hide it anymore either. His mind was spinning and he was having trouble organizing his thoughts as he tried to articulate a response that she'd like. He wanted the whole ordeal to end, and he was willing to just tell her the truth to achieve it.

"No... you've... you've always meant a lot more to me then that."

He looked her in the eyes.

"Mika... I actually *do* have feelings for you..."

“Fucking idiot,”

Mika whispers in a low voice as she steps past him and repeatedly presses the elevator button. She no longer wants to hear his voice or even believe him.

“Open, you fucker!”

Mika shouts as she hits the elevator door with her fist several times.So much so that she hurt her fingers.

Killua couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Mika was so angry and frustrated, and it was kind of funny to see her act so childishly.

"Mika, stop..."

he said, reaching out to grab her wrist again as she hit the elevator button repeatedly. But this time, he didn't tighten his grip or cause her any pain. He was simply trying to get her to calm down as he talked to her.

", just let me explain. I do have feelings for you, and I always have."

Mika's fingers were bleeding a little but she was still angry, not looking at his face..

"I want to get out of here now.."

She was still pressing the button in a state of anger... She was afraid that if she believed Killua, he would say the same thing.

Killua watched, wondering just how much longer Mika was going to continue this rampage. But he couldn't help but find the whole spectacle amusing. Despite how angry she was, there was something so... immature about it. She was hitting a button so desperately, like she was expecting a miracle to happen and the elevator to open.

It was cute.... and it was hilarious seeing the lengths she was going to.

"Stop hitting the button, they don't open any faster"

Killua finally said. *She really had no idea how elevators worked, did she.

She raises her eyebrows and then looks at him,

“Do you think this is funny?”

She bites her lips hard,

“Do you want me to hit your stupid head against the wall now, idiot”

Killia looked at her with an amused nod.

"A little bit... yes. And I wouldn't mind seeing if you could even hurt me, to be honest."

Despite all of his anger and frustration with Mika, he still couldn't help but find her amusing. Her reactions were cute, even if she *was* acting like a child right now.

"I mean, you do realize they'll open at the same time regardless of when you press it right?"

he said, still grinning at her.

Killua's chest was on Mika's back. Killua was holding her hands so she wouldn't hurt herself again...

"You said you love me,"

Mika says sarcastically as she breathes slowly.

Killua let out a chuckle and turned her to look at him.

"I said I had feelings,"

he corrected her.

"I mean, you're cute and all... and I enjoy it when we spend time together. But I don't know if I can call what I have for you *love*. That's a very serious word, after all."

He looked at her earnestly, keeping her hands in his.

"But I do know that I like you, a lot. And I've wanted to see where it might go... But I don't know if that happens if you won't talk to me."

“How do you want things to go, smart one?”

Mika answers in a cold tone.

Killua was starting to question if he could have a serious conversation with Mika for more than five seconds without her making a sarcastic remark or something childish... but there was no one else he'd rather talk to right now. He just had to hope he didn't say anything to push her away once more.

"I don't know..."

he said quietly. He had a lot of ideas on how it *could* go, but couldn't say for certain.

"I just wanted to spend time with you and to get to know you better. I do enjoy your company, after all."

"As someone from Killua, answer honestly...as someone who wants to be with me...if you give me an answer that is the opposite of what I'm thinking now, I will never give you a chance,"

Mika answers.

Killua considered her words carefully, not liking the sound of this ultimatum. But he had no choice but to answer honestly. It wouldn't do him any good otherwise - especially if he messed up his chance to finally be with Mika.

"If I wanted to be with you,"

he began, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He was about to say something he'd never said to *anyone* before... the idea of doing so was terrifying to him.

"I would... I would treasure you as much as I could. I would protect you. And I would never intentionally hurt you."

“The last question: Do you say these words in your capacity as a lover or as a friend?”

This was the question that would decide their relationship.

Killua took another deep breath, considering how to answer. It was a hard choice, but one that had to be made. And he knew that he was willing to give up the friendship to make it.

"As a lover...."

he said quietly. He hoped he hadn't made the wrong choice, but he knew there was no going back now.

Mika hugs him tightly, burying her face in his neck,

“This is what I wanted to hear,”

Mika whispers in a low voice.

Killua froze when Mika hugged him, a smile growing on his face. For a moment, he was at a loss. He had hoped for a good response, of course, but hadn't dared to think it might actually happen. But now it was here, and he wasn't sure what to do about it.

Finally, he wrapped his arms around Mika and pulled her back against his chest. He didn't know what to say. He just hugged her, wanting nothing more than to embrace her for as long as he could.

“I love you so much Killua...”

Mika says as she kisses his cheek gently.

Killua was speechless. He had never expected Mika to say that. He was over the moon happy now, and he had no clue how to respond.

He pulled her back against him and gently lifted her chin with his hand to make her look at him. Her lips were so nearby now... He couldn't help it.

He pulled her closer, finally giving Mika the passionate kiss she had wanted for so long.

“Hmm, excuse me,”

says a voice on the elevator loudspeaker. It was the elevator’s security camera guard.

Killua looked at the camera and gave a sheepish wave, still not wanting to let go of Mika. He would gladly make a fool of himself if it meant he could spend even one more second with her.

"Just ignore him... I'm sure he's seen worse!"

he said with a cheeky grin, turning his attention back to Mika.

The door opened a few seconds later, and Killua walked out with Mika still in his arms, still hugging her tightly.

He was so happy to finally have her back. This was the best day of his life, and he hoped they could spend the rest of it together.

He didn't care if there was a security guard watching them. He was only focused on one thing - getting to know Mika better. His girlfriend. Now that he had her back in his life, he wasn't ever letting go.

[barbiecarlo]

They left him hanging 😂

[bi-bard]

don't want no other shade of blue but you - Seeley Booth Imagine (Bones)

Title: don't want no other shade of blue but you

Pairing: Seeley Booth X Reader

Requested: by a reader on AO3

Word Count: 706 words

Warning(s): mentions of kidnapping and past break-up

Summary: (Aftermath of Season 4, Episode 13) Feelings are reevaluated after Booth is kidnapped by the Gravedigger.

Author's Note: This is a part two to the Booth imagine I wrote in connection to my folklore/evermore writing challenge.

Find part one here!

----------------------------------

I looked at the mess in my lab with a sigh.

It had been a tense case. Far more tense than usual.

Seeley had been kidnapped by the Gravedigger. Hodgins and Brennan were intense because of their history with the killer, but the rest of us were also terrified.

My brain was racing.

I was hoping that it all would've ended once we knew Booth was found. He was alive and he was safe.

But it didn't.

That feeling of dread; that pit in my stomach; just wouldn't go away. It wasn't going to go away until I got to see him properly. Being told he was okay was one thing; seeing that he was okay was different.

I did the only thing I could think of.

I cleaned. I cleaned and organized and documented. Made sure every piece of evidence was safely put away, so we knew it was ready for the inevitable court case.

"(Y/n)," I looked over at Sweets, standing in the doorway of my part of the lab.

"Sweets," I nodded as a small greeting, putting a few more folders into the filing cabinet.

"How are you feeling," he asked.

"Better," I confirmed, lying through my teeth.

"You're lying to me," he called it immediately. "What's wrong?"

"I just need to know he's okay," I replied. "See it with my own eyes. And I can't do that yet."

"(Y/n)," Sweets stepped forward. "I'm gonna ask you something and I don't want you to rip my head off."

"Don't tempt me," I tried to ease the tension.

"Do you still love Booth," he asked.

I was about to deny it, but I just clenched my jaw. I couldn't.

"You do-"

"It won't work out," I cut him off. "I learned that the hard way."

"Booth isn't the same man he was then," Sweets argued. "You're scared. I understand that. But are you going to ever get over any of it without giving it a shot?"

I stayed silent again.

"Just consider it," Sweets suggested, touching my upper arm for a moment. "I have a feeling that Booth wants to try too."

"'A feeling'," I repeated.

"He told me," Sweets explained. I nodded and chuckled. "Don't tell him that I told you."

"Because he carries a gun," I asked.

"That's definitely part of it."

I laughed again, looking down.

"Thank you for that, Sweets."

"You're welcome," he replied. "I'll leave you to your cleaning."

He sent a wave over his shoulder as he left the room.

I continued my cleaning.

You probably could've eaten straight off of one of my tables and been happy with it.

I was just throwing away the pile of papers where I had written theories and equations before I scraped them and threw them to the side. Then, I heard footsteps outside my door.

I looked up to see Seeley limping toward the room.

"Seeley," I shouted, dropping the recycling bin and sprinting over to him.

"(Y/n)- woah-"

I almost knocked him over as I ran into him to hug him.

"Hey, I'm okay," he mumbled as he hugged me tightly. "I'm right here. Look at me," he moved back so he could cup the sides of my face, "I'm okay."

I let out a sigh and grinned at him, "Why aren't you in the hospital?"

"I wanted to see you," he replied. "I remembered you said that you had trouble just believing that someone you cared about was okay."

My eyebrows furrowed for a moment. How much had he taken the time to remember?

"You need to see a doctor," I muttered, brain becoming slightly foggy as I realized he was still holding my face.

He chuckled, "I will. I promise."

We both paused for a moment. A long moment.

Hesitantly, I leaned in and pressed my lips to his. His hands moved from my face to my back, pulling me closer.

I pulled away first, resting my forehead against his.

"I missed that," he mumbled. I chuckled.

"So did I."

We stood there for a few moments longer.

"Come on," I said, stepping back. "Let's get you to a hospital."

He nodded before taking my hand, "This okay?"

I looked down at our hands, "Yeah... it's perfect."

----------------------------------

Masterlist

What I Write For

Request Guidelines

Some Original Characters

folklore/evermore Writing Challenge (and Masterlist)

[coldmilkcreamery]

Luminescent Moonlight

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: nct dream x male reader 🥀🌹

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1862

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: y/n sneaks out of the dorms every friday night. the dreamies notice and follow him only to find out that…

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴/𝘀: degradation; swearing

𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝘆 🌙

𝗮/𝗻: uhh... idk how to feel about this? at first i was proud of it but now reading it i'm like... meh but enjoy ig ^^ this marks the last day of our launch week, which means we won't be posting daily anymore :(( we have 2 requests and we're working on them, if you have any feel free to drop it at the ask box !! good night <33

> 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 <

-

Both hands on the clock point at 12 again, signaling Y/N’s departure from the NCT dorms. As their newest and youngest member, Y/N was thought of as the sweetest, purest, and on top of all, most respectable member of NCT. He graduated Neo High with honors, was friendly on campus and auditioned for SM only once, unlike the sea of trainees who had to audition for more than three times. Because of this, he was viewed as this innocent prince once SM told the boys that he would be joining NCT. But, just like any cliché scenario, none of them knew of what Y/N did in the dead of night, when the moonlight shone on the city and no one knew him, not even by his silhouette.

✦ 𝙨𝙞𝙭 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 ✦

“Has anyone noticed Y/N during the weekends recently? He usually isn't sleeping on his bed when he’s supposed to be.” Shotaro asks, genuinely worried about him.

“He probably just goes to the comfort room and stays in there for the whole night or something, no biggie.” Jeno says sarcastically, shoving a mouthful of popcorn into his mouth as he blabs his mouth.

“Hm,” Jisung mumbles, skeptical of Y/N’s actions, “there is definitely something up with him.” Jisung wasn’t one to get jealous often but with the addition of Y/N into NCT, the beloved, innocent, has-never-committed-a-sin Y/N, the attention wasn’t on him anymore. He was a tad bit jealous, but he would never admit that out loud.

“So what do you wanna do about it then?” Jeno replies, still staring straight at the television playing Titanic, “Confront him about it? It’s not like he’s gonna budge. What are you gonna do then, force him to tell you? Huh?”

“Quit being an asshole Jen.” Jaemin slaps Jeno sitting beside him, a frown on his face.

“How about we just, you know, pretend to sleep and wait till he gets up and leaves, then follow him?” Sungchan suggests, equally as worried as Shotaro. Both the former and the latter know how hard it is to be new members of a group that has already debuted. So, they felt the need to let Y/N know that he didn’t have to keep leaving the dorms, for an escape or whatever.

“Then it’s decided,” Jeno speaks up, finally peeling his eyes off the television, “tonight, we find out what the fuck Y/N has been doing for the past 6 weeks.”

✦ 𝙨𝙞𝙭 𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧 ✦

Y/N rises up from his bed, making extra effort not to make a noise. He grabs the hickory duffle bag from under his bed and unzips it to check if he’s had everything for his night out ready. He zips it back just seconds after and drapes it over his shoulder, getting ready to leave. He pulls his hoodie up and ties his black converses before opening the wooden door and leaving the Dream Dorms, oblivious to the boys’ plans.

Renjun, Jeno, Haechan, Jaemin, Chenle, Sungchan, Shotaro and Jisung are led from the warmth of their dorms into the cold autumn night as they follow the figure wearing a black hoodie in front of them. The 8 boys walk for what seems like hours, crossing street to street, going through alley to alley, main road to main road as they do nothing but stay in silence and tail the (H/C) boy in front of them. They don’t know how many neon signs they’ve passed by now, only noticing how red ones become more and more evident as they venture deeper into the city.

“I think we’re in the red light district.” Haechan blurts, being met with shushes from the 7 other boys he was with. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Y/N of course, who pauses and turns around, only to look at a dark, empty street behind him. Y/N furrows his brows, confused, as he resumes his amble towards his destination.

Hiding behind garbage bins, the 8 boys sit in disgust as they hide from Y/N, scared of being caught halfway through their stalking session. Haechan peeks his head out and speaks up once again, but this time quietly, “The coast is clear.” All 8 stand up synchronized, noses scrunched as they glare at Haechan.

“No shit sherlock,” Chenle whisper-shouts, hues of scarlet and crimson decorating his face, “it’s red everywhere! Of course we’re in the red light district!”

The others giggle as they stare at Chenle.

“No, you dumbass,” Haechan replies calmly, “a red light district is like a place full of clubs and.. you know…” He trails off as the other seven’s brows furrow.

“Let’s not jump into conclusions,” Sungchan cuts him off, remaining positive, “let’s just keep following him.”

They sneak behind Y/N once again, trying their best not to get caught. It was only a minute or two before they saw Y/N turn a corner. The 8 slowly creeped up on the opening of the alley, just in time to see Y/N enter a building with an indigo sign, which stood out in the sea of bright, neon red signs.

“You don’t think… he’s a…” Jaemin spoke up as all of them shared a glance. The eight of them stood in silence, too scared to speak up, under the illusion that Y/N may be a male stripper. That wouldn’t be a problem but he was… 17.

“Only one way to find out.”

♪♪♪♪...

The deafening music boomed from the speakers, resonating into the indigo aesthetic of the club. Contrary to the word, this side of the club was the opposite of aesthetic: sweaty bodies stuck together, giving the 8 boys an unsettling feeling. They had almost started contemplating on leaving the said club, but not before Jaemin spots a quiet section, free of the sweaty bodies grinding against each other. It wasn’t free of people, per se, as there were a few people making out here and there, but it definitely wasn’t as congested as the indigo dance floor they had previously stood on. They saw vacant seats at the bar and, just like anyone who had been walking and hiding for 30 minutes, took a seat. All 8 of them had their backs turned away from the bar as a familiar voice spoke up.

“What can I get for you?” Y/N asks, a smile forced on his face. Y/N’s blue velvet suit shimmers under the spinning disco ball, exhibiting various accents of blue. Azure, cobalt and lapis and sapphire compliment Y/N’s face as he looks down, glass in one hand and towel on the other, wiping. He’s wearing nothing but a blue velvet blazer as a top, chest out as if he was as the beach. The boys turn around, mouths agape and unable to speak. They lock eyes with Y/N when the latter looks up due to the long, uncomfortable silence, eyes wide open, his body frozen in shock.

Attempting to cover his exposed chest, Y/N drops the glass and immediately places his hands flat on his chest, the feeling of fear, embarrassment and surprise devouring him.

“Y/N what the fuck?” Jeno blows up, completely losing his self control, “What the fuck are you doing in this… this.. strip club? You’re sev-”

Y/N unsticks his palms from his chest and re-sticks it onto Jeno’s mouth, shushing the older. “Shhh. let’s…” he pans his eyes from left to right, staring into his hyung’s disappointed faces, “let’s talk outside. Wait for me.”

The boys head towards the exit as they pass by the cramped dance floor once again, the silver disco ball spinning endlessly above them. They exit the club, the chilly breeze of the autumn night slapping them on the face once again as they step out. They wait in silence, leaning on the wall, occasionally staring at the indigo sign above them. Just as Chenle was about to break the silence, the cushioned doors of the club open slowly, revealing a boy in a more decent outfit. Y/N steps out, head burning holes into the stone floor. As soon as the doors of the club seal shut, all 8 of them went into chaos.

“What the fuck?”

“Is this what you’ve been doing for the past 6 weeks?”

“What are you doing with your life?”

“I can’t believe you’re actually a fucking stripper. What made SM recruit a stripper?”

He let himself get scolded but got caught off guard when Jisung uttered those words. “Wait, stripper?” Y/N looks up from the now-molten floor, eyebrows furrowed, tears pricking the corner of his eyes, “I— how could you even call me that?”

“Don’t act like you didn't have your chest on display before we got there.” Jisung replies, disgust written on his face, “Is this really what you've been doing for the past month and a half? Whoring yourself out? I guess you love people’s attention on your body don’t you?”

The gates of the dam that had held his tears finally gave out, spilling endlessly as Y/N tried to find his words, “I— that’s just the uniform for us bartenders… I work in a club so… we’re required to—”

“Exactly Y/N!” Jaemin shouts, “You’re 17 for fucks sake, why the fuck are you working at a bar? You’re a fucking idol! You're going to be publicly announced as a new member next month! What if people start recognizing you, huh? Then what?”

“I-I’m sorry hyungs. I—” tears gushed from Y/N’s orbs, coating his face, “I just did this for money.” Disgusted looks turned to looks of confusion as the 8 boys stared at Y/N, puzzled.

“M-my mom is in the hospital, she’s dealing with stage iii breast cancer and,” Y/N says, shaking, unable to complete a sentence without stopping, “and my family couldn’t afford the hospital bills, and the company wasn’t paying me yet– and I– I couldn’t wait any longer so when I saw a poster one day, looking for a bartender, I applied and lied about my age. Hyungs I’m really sorry, I- I didn’t do it because- because I liked putting my body on display. To be honest I was really uncomfortable but– but I would do anything for my mom and—”

Y/N pauses as he feels a warmth envelope him, curing his heart’s hypothermia. “We’re sorry. You know we can always lend you a hand, right?” Jaemin says, regretting his thoughts. Renjun adds to the two boys hugging, then Shotaro, then Chenle, and soon enough, all 9 of them are one; all hugging it out in a giant fluff ball, in the aged alleyway under the moonlight.

“I’m sorry,” Jisung states, voice softer as ever, “for calling you that. And, I know your mom is strong, she’ll get through this.”

Y/N felt warmer, and suddenly, under the moonlight, all his worries and doubts vanished. Nothing was more calming than a hug from the 8 boys he loved the most. They stayed like that for as long as Y/N needed, the moonlight’s luminescence lingering in the air.

End.

-

𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙: 01.11.21

𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙: 01.12.21

[karlajoyner]

Sick (Charlie Gillespie x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys I hope you guys enjoy this one! I'm currently trying to work on the requests I have to get done but I somewhat have a good idea on how I want a lot of them to go....now I just need to write them. Also I do have a taglist if you wanna be added to it. Okay byeee!!

Requested by: @riverdalefan2019 (Tumblr)

Warnings: None

————

I made my way into my shared apartment after a long day at work, exhausted after spending hours treating patients.

Immediately spotting a note on the countertop. A small smile formed on my face as I recognized the chicken scratch written on it.

"I tried to stay awake my love but I was just too tired. Don't hesitate to wake me up if you want to feel loved and appreciated!

                      ~ Charlie

I read quietly taking a look at the clock. 3:34am. He had a whole weekend to make me feel loved and appreciated as did I.

Deciding on letting him rest I removed my coat and shoes leaving them by the door before making my way into our shared bedroom.

I turned on the bedside lamp, straight away spotting my boyfriends body under the covers.

I sighed contently moving over to my dresser to grab a pair of pajamas when I heard the sheets begin to shuffle.

"Y/n?" A raspy voice called out to me.

"Babe. Did I wake you?" I asked worriedly pulling out a pair of silk pajama shorts and a cami. Placing them at the top of the dresser.

"No, no I was having trouble sleeping" He coughed sitting up. I turned around getting a good look at his disheveled appearance. A frown forming on my face. "Are you okay?" I questioned grabbing my scrubs from my bag and dumping them into the dirty clothes.

"I'm fine just a little tired is all. How was your shift at the hospital?"

"It wasn't too bad today. I'm just glad I have a whole weekend to recover before going back" I said watching him lean against the headboard. Slowly closing his eyes and reopening them.

"Are you sure your okay Charlie?"

"I'm fine"

"Yeah well as a nurse, I'm fine isn't gonna cut it for me"

"Don't go all professional on me now" He teased as I walked over to my work bag.

"I kinda have to it's my job as your girlfriend who works with sick people everyday. I have to make sure your not contagious" I spoke walking over to him.

"How've you been feeling?" I asked placing a hand on his forehead.

"Tired"

"Does your head hurt?"

"A bit" He sniffled. Stuffy nose.

"Open" I spoke taking a look into his mouth.

"How do your muscles feel?" I spoke putting the popsicle stick I had used in a ziplock bag to throw away.

"You tell me baby" He joked flexing his arm.

"Charles"

"Fine. Sorry. They're actually a little weak" I sighed sticking a thermometer in his mouth.

"I missed you" He tried to speak reaching his hand out to take mine. I quickly retracted it watching hurt take over his face.

"Baby I love you but your sick" I explained hearing the thermometer beep.

"I don't think I'm sick"

"Really? Cause this thermometers telling me you've got the flu"

"I do?"

"Yup. Which means your on bedrest until you get better"

"Nope. There's no way that's gonna happen"

"And why not?"

"Because we've had this whole weekend planned out with fun activities for weeks and I'm not gonna let a little cold ruin that"

"It's not a little cold it's the flu. And I'm sure we can find another free weekend to lounge around all day and watch movies"

"We we're gonna do other stuff too" He pouted.

"Save it Charlie. You are not doing anything that doesn't involve you laying in this bed" He seemed to perk up at my suggestion a smirk forming on his face.

"No. Not that either" I spoke a pout taking over his face.

"But-"

"No buts. You need rest"

"I can't. I've been tossing and turning all night. Can we cuddle?" I internally groaned looking at the digital clock on the bedside table.

"Charlie it's contagious. I can't risk getting sick" My heart broke as I watched sadness wash over his face.

"But I wanna cuddle"

"If you feel any better tomorrow. We can cuddle. Until then I've got to sleep on the couch tonight"

"Your not even gonna sleep with me" He complained.

"Get some rest" I said placing my hand on his cheek feeling him lean into my touch.

"I love you" I smiled sweetly at him.

"I love you too Y/n" he croaked out coughing afterwards.

"Night Charlie"

"Goodnight baby" He called out after me.

I woke up to sound of my alarm ringing. Wanting nothing more than to sleep for just a few more hours.

Unfortunately enough I had a sick boyfriend to tend to so I quickly got up, going to put a chicken soup on the stove. Just the way he liked it.

"Charlie" I sang entering the room to see a scatter of tissues around the bed.

"We ran out of tissues so I had to grab toilet paper. He sniffled holding up a roll of new toilet paper.

"I take it your not feeling any better?" I asked putting down the tray of soup on the dresser.

"Nope. I think it got worse. Which sucks cause now I can't kiss you"

"We have plenty of time for that later" I spoke tucking him back in.

"I brought you soup"

"Thank you for taking care of me"

"Of course baby. You know? We could still have a great weekend" I said picking up the dirty tissues and throwing them into the trash bin in the corner of the room.

"How?" Charlie asked blowing on the soup.

"We could watch some movies later in the living room. We'll just sit on different couches" I suggested.

"Sounds good?"

"Sounds amazing beautiful" He spoke in a groggy voice.

It had been a few hours of Charlie laying in bed while I did some online shopping enjoying the peace and silence in the apartment.

The two of us sharing small talk bringing up memories from the day we first met, to our first date, to the present day.

"Baby!" Charlie called out to me.

"Yes Charles" I toyed with the boy spinning around on the armchair at the desk.

"Can we watch movies now? I'm tired of laying here"

"Yes" I answered watching a smile form on his face.

I sighed settling down onto the couch watching as my boyfriend scrolled through the endless movies on Netflix.

"What do you wanna watch?"

"The notebook"

"Do you wanna see me cry woman?" He asked exasperatedly making me giggle.

"Awww your such a softie" I said watching him put the movie on anyways.

"I am not"

"Sure Charlie" I laughed once more as the movie started.

I looked over at my boyfriend to see him attempting to get comfortable. Rolling my eyes I got up to sit next to him.

"Come on" I said patting my lap.

"Really?" He asked making me nod.

"What if I get you sick?"

"Then I'll take a couple days off work. No biggie"

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course you big dummy" He grinned at my response placing his head on my lap. Immediately getting comfortable with a blanket on his body.

"I love you" He muttered.

"I love you too Charlie" I whispered contently running my fingers through his hair as the first movie of the night played.

————

Up Next: Alex Mercer x Male Reader

Luke Patterson x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Jeremy Shada x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

Reggie Peters x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Reggie Peters x Reader

Carrie Wilson x Reader

Sunset Curve x Reader

————

@lolychu @headheartbellarke @bookish0918 @kcd15 @ifilwtmfc @moviesbooksandfandoms @lovesanimals @lavender-writer @kaitieskidmore1 @morganayennefertyrell @iloveteenwolf @ghostofmgg @jammi13 @theravenclawlife

[giggles-and-freckles]

ooohh Abi I'm soo happy you're taking prompts!! 8 and 16 together maybe? For you know who🥺🌺

[I know I should finish out the whump prompts first, but I’ve had this in my head for a couple days and I needed to get it down! originally, this was tacked on to the end of my padawan!Kenobi & baby!Soka sickfic prompt response but it’s already too long as a stand-alone so here ya go. it’s not necessary to read the other first, but it may provide some context.]

8=“I’ve got you.” 16=“I’m never letting you go”

using this angst/fluff prompt masterlist

“Who are you looking for?”

“Er, she’s six? Togruta.” He racked his brain for more identifiers. “No front teeth.”

“Does she have a name?” the padawan healer drawled, lifting a tired eyebrow at Obi-Wan.

“Oh. Right. Ahsoka.”

“Ahsoka…?”

“I...I don’t know her family name,” he grimaced. “But how many Ahsokas can you possibly have in there?”

The padawan offered a less-than-polite glance at that comment, but returned her gaze to the holo-pad in front of her. “Ahsoka Tano. Looks like she’s fine. High-grade fever, nausea, and dizziness. Nothing serious.”

“That sounds serious,” he frowned.

“Well, it’s not,” the padawan bit off with a glare. “If you want to go see her, either go in or get out.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “Go see her?”

“Isn’t that why you’re here?” The padawan healer crossed her arms and looked at him with bored irritation.

“Oh,” said Obi-Wan. “Well, no, actually. I just–” he paused. “Yes–would you direct me to the room number?”

“C201.”

“Thank you.”

It wasn’t until he started walking down the hall that he considered what had just happened. He stopped walking abruptly, frowning at his own feet which had seemed to move of their own accord. What was he doing?

He didn’t even know this girl. It was one thing to stop by and ask the healers for an update. It was an entirely different thing to pop in for a visit. What would Ahsoka even say about the strange padawan from the Archives who had carried her to the healers? She’d been so out of it by the time he got her to the Halls of Healing, he wasn’t even sure if she’d remember anything at all.

Obi-Wan unfortunately didn’t think forgetting was a possibility for him, what with the vomit still crusted over his boots from the night before.

Somehow, he found himself at the room marked C201. He considered turning around and walking back to his quarters, but something stopped him. She really had been so unwell–and so cute.

He knocked softly.

The sound of springs and a thump–someone jumping off a bed. Then, the light pitter-patter of small feet crossing the room.

“You!” she cried as she opened the door, beaming up at him.

“Me,” he agreed, smiling weakly in return.

She catapulted herself into him, wrapping her arms tightly around his legs and constricting his knees with a surprising amount of strength.

“Ahsoka,” he chuckled, trying to shake her off. “This can’t become a habit. I can’t move, little one.”

“I’m never letting you go,” she muffled against his legs. 

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes with a smile, leaning down to untangle her arms from him. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?” 

She switched her grip to latch onto his arms. “Up,” she instructed, pulling on him.

“You can’t just command people to carry you.”

“Please?” She batted her eyes at him in a way he was pretty sure was premeditated but also was completely powerless against.

“I stand corrected. You can.” He scooped her up.

Ahsoka grinned, her face six inches away from his. “Hi, Padawan Kenobi.”

“Hi, Ahsoka,” he replied, with a blinding smile of his own.

“I told the healers you would come.”

“Oh, did you?”

“Yep. I knew it.” She nodded vigorously, her head bobbing up and down in a way Obi-Wan knew couldn’t feel good with a fever.

“I’m glad you had so much faith in me. How are you feeling?”

“Great!”

He lifted an eyebrow.

She deflated the tiniest of bits. “Still sick.”

“Then, perhaps you should be in bed, yes?”

“Ugh, yes,” she scowled.

Obi-Wan moved toward the small hospital bed, leaning down to drop her in. The Togruta climbed toward the head of the bed and crawled under the covers, sitting up and looking at him excitedly. He stared in bewilderment, taking a tentative seat on the edge of the bed.

This kid was so strange.

“What are we gonna do?” she asked, her shoulders bouncing a bit. Did this child ever stop moving?

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes rolled around her head as she huffed in impatience. “Are we gonna sing or play or what?”

The older Jedi’s eyes widened. “Sing or...play?” 

“Well, why’d you come here if we weren’t gonna sing or play?”

Why had he come here? Obi-Wan wasn’t sure if he was qualified to answer that question. There hadn’t been much thinking involved between his waking up and immediately walking down to the Halls of Healing this morning.

“Just to check in on you, I suppose.”

She looked disappointed. “That’s it?”

“I didn’t know there were protocols for checking in on a sick youngling.” He reached across and lightly tapped her nose. 

“Protocols?” She went cross-eyed, her tiny nose scrunching up in response. “I hate protocols.”

Obi-Wan laughed, not doubting that at all. He could imagine the challenges Ahsoka provided to the creche-masters...and the challenges she would one day provide to her master. 

That would be a brave Jedi.

“You’re sick, little one. I don’t think singing and playing are in your near future,” he offered a compassionate half-smile. “Perhaps tomorrow or the next day.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, dramatically. “It’s so boring in here!”

“Do you like to read?” he asked, thinking of all the books he could retrieve from his quarters. It’s what he would do if he was the one stuck in here. It’s what he had done all the times he was the one stuck in here. 

She fixed him with a stare. “I’m six.”

Oh. Right.

Obi-Wan had done a few rotations in the creche and he’d found he had a knack for teaching the older initiates, but his assignments from Qui-Gon rarely found him in contact with small children. Ahsoka put him entirely out of his element.

“I could read to you?” he suggested.

“Do you do voices?”

“Voices?”

“You know,” she said, gesturing wildly. “Voices.”

He didn’t know. The small huff that signaled her giving up on him led him to believe she could sense his confusion.

Even so, her eyes lit up suddenly. “We could fight!”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” he laughed lightly.

Ahsoka glared, as menacing as she could muster. “You don’t think I could beat you?”

“Oh, it’s not that at all,” he shook his head, quickly. “I only meant what with this being a healing ward, of course.”

This seemed to satisfy her and she snuggled back into the covers with a content smile.

“Padawan Kenobi? Do you think–” Her eyes shut and she grabbed at her stomach, suddenly. “Oh.”

“Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan reached for her shoulder in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Tummy,” she groaned, miserably. “Again.”

He scanned the room for a bin. Spotting one, he summoned it toward the bed and helped Ahsoka out of the covers. She crawled pathetically toward the edge of the bed and immediately began to wretch into the bin.

Obi-Wan watched, painfully helpless against her discomfort. All he could do was lightly rub circles over her small back as she violently heaved. 

She looked up at him with pained eyes. “I’m...I’m sorry about getting sick...on your shoes last night, Padawan Ken–” Her words were cut short as another wave of nausea hit her and she continued to get sick into the bin.

“I have other shoes, little one,” he said softly. “There’s only one of you, though. I want you to feel better.”

She whined in response, coughing weakly. 

“Would you like me to get a healer?” he asked after she seemed to even out. 

Ahsoka shook her head, closing her eyes and hovering over the bucket.

“Does it feel like it’s over or do you think you need to wait a bit?”

She shifted in response, scootching toward Obi-Wan and practically falling into his lap. He pulled her fully into him, snaking one arm around her back and cradling her head with the other. Her small montrals bumped along his chin as she collapsed into his chest.

After a moment, she picked her head up weakly. “Can you...stay here?”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

[ninja-go-to-therapy]

Febuwhump 28: "You Have to Let Me Go"

@badthingshappenbingo

I legitimately didn't think I was ever going to finish this, so seeing that I finally have is fricken awesome. I'm so excited!

Welcome to the newest branch of The Family Tree — similar but not related to Decadent — Delusion!

Prompt: bthb - the collector ; febuwhump - "you have to let me go"

Fandom: Ducktales 2017

Characters: Huey, Dewey, and Louie

Summary: Doofus wants to have more than just one friend-present. He gets his wish.

Trigger Warnings: burning, torture, kidnapping, possessive whumper, drowning, and once again Doofus Drake needs his own warning

2377 words

“What do you want with us?” Huey asked, cautious.

Doofus smiled, like he was thrilled to have been asked. “Llewellyn is so lovely, and he just makes such a wonderful friend-present. It only makes sense that I should have the full set.”

Dewey raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “The full set? What are you, some rare Barbie collector?”

Doofus narrowed his eyes, but didn’t respond immediately.

“Dewey,” Louie warned.

Dewey, like the reckless idiot he was, waved him off.

“As I was saying,” Doofus continued, “I wanted the whole set, so I got the whole set.”

“Ooh, do we come with accessories?” Dewey asked, leaning forward like he was really interested. For all Huey knew, maybe he was. Dewey was like that.

“Shut up,” Louie hissed, glaring at Dewey. Huey shared the sentiment. He didn’t know what Doofus would do if they annoyed him enough.

“What is he gonna do, sick his butler on us?” Dewey asked, rolling his eyes. “This is child’s play.”

Huey resisted the urge to point out the fact that they were, in fact, children, making his point meaningless, but it didn’t seem too helpful right now.

“Dewey, stop,” Louie insisted.

Doofus glared at Dewey, but Dewey wasn’t even looking at him. He was way too relaxed about this whole thing. They didn’t know what Doofus was capable of. Dewey was just seeing this another fun adventure where they got kidnapped by some guy who was all bark and no bite for like, thirty minutes maximum. Which, to be fair, did happen quite often, but this felt different.

“You’re not being a very good friend, Dewford,” Doofus said, looking legitimately disappointed in him. “I expected better of you.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Huey looked at him, concerned, but Dewey didn’t acknowledge it. It seemed like there were quite a few things he wasn’t acknowledging, actually.

“I think you need a little trip to my honey bin,” Doofus said, and though Huey had no idea what that was, the threat was clear.

Dewey cocked his head to the side. “You mean money bin.”

“No, I don’t.”

Louie went pale, and that was enough for Huey to intervene. “He didn’t mean it!” he cried, nervously glancing between a continuously carefree Dewey and the rich psychopath.

“Too late! Come, dear Dewford,” Doofus said, releasing him from the bracelet’s hold and grabbing him firmly by the arm. “You can think about how to be a better friend while you’re in there.”

Dewey turned to point a finger-gun at his brothers, clicking his tongue.

“He’s going to get us killed,” Huey mumbled illy.

Louie shook his head, tugging at his bracelet as he did so. “He won’t kill us,” he mumbled miserably. “It will be worse.”

Huey looked at him in alarm, but Louie didn’t opt to explain further.

“Okay, we’ve got to get out of here,” he said decisively, a new energy coursing through him now that they weren’t in the same room as their captor. He squirmed, trying to get his wrist out, but just like Louie, he had no luck. “Do you by chance have any butter?”

Louie stared at him. “Butter.”

“If we get all buttery, we might be able to get the bracelets off without dislocating our thumbs!”

“Oh, of course. Yes, Huey, let me just grab that butter I carry with me everywhere!” Louie said, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“It’s the only plan I have!” Huey cried, doing his best to stay calm. They had no clue what was happening to Dewey right now, and based on everything that had happened since they’d been captured, he got the feeling Doofus was seriously unstable.

He was scared, and he didn’t think well under pressure.

Very, very faintly, they heard Dewey scream.

“Oh god,” Louie whispered.

“We need to help him!” Huey shouted, frantically yanking at his arm, like the whole thing would just come loose if he tried hard enough. His arm was already getting sore, but he ignored it. “This thing has got to have a fault somewhere! Or an off switch!”

“The only off switch is the remote that Doofus keeps on him!” Louie said, grunting as he tried to get free.

“And we can’t break them,” Huey panted, slumping over as he caught his breath. “What are we gonna do?”

“You won’t be doing anything.”

Huey froze mid-yank, slowly lowering his arm again. Doofus was standing in the doorway, Dewey beside him.

Dewey didn’t look so lighthearted anymore. His feathers were all disheveled and sticky looking, and he was just staring into space blankly. Huey had no idea what the hell Doofus had done, but he definitely didn’t want to know. It was hard to shut Dewey up, even when his life was threatened.

Actually, maybe he did want to know. Anyone who hurt his brother was going to pay.

Dewey was placed with a level of great care, much like a doll, or an action figure, back where he’d been before, between Huey and Louie. Both of them shuddered.

“You have to let us go,” Huey said, hoping to God he could reason with him. “You can’t just keep us here!”

“But I can,” Doofus replied easily.

Louie gave Huey a desperate sort of look, like he was trying to silently project his own thoughts into Huey’s brain. He tried to focus on it, on the off chance that twin sense was real, but he wasn’t getting anything. Huh.

He turned his focus back to Doofus. He knew he was on thin ice, but Doofus was just a kid, like them. “Come on,” he said, “we would be happy to be your friends!” he ignored the quiet “no we wouldn’t,” from Louie, plowing forward anyway. “You don’t have to kidnap us to get that! Don’t you think you may be overreacting just a little bit?”

“Overreacting?” Doofus shouted, overreacting.

“No! No, I didn’t mean you were overreacting!” Huey cried, attempting to backtrack. “Even if you are kind of crazy — no wait I didn’t mean that!” Oh boy, he was only burying himself deeper and deeper with every word he spoke. Why couldn’t he have been born with Louie’s smoothness?

Doofus did not look happy, and Huey let out a tiny squeak, looking side to side like a magical exit would appear before them.

Dewey snapped to life, purposefully placing himself in front of Huey. “Don’t touch him,” he growled.

“Dewey, no!” Huey said, doing his best to shove past him. “I’m not letting you get hurt again!”

“And I’m not letting you get hurt at all!” Dewey insisted.

“How sweet,” Doofus said, and Huey honestly couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be mocking or sincere. Doofus was… well, he was Doofus, and he had a very… interesting way of going about things. “You’re coming with me,” he continued, ignoring Dewey entirely and leading Huey towards the door.

“No!” Dewey begged.

“I’ll be fine, Dew,” Huey said, smiling as best he could in an attempt to reassure him. It didn’t seem to be working well.

Doofus pulled him from the room.

“What’s the honey bin?” He asked, tripping over himself as he tried to keep up.

“Oh, you won’t be going there,” Doofus said dismissively. He looked like Dewey did when he was trying to hide some silly secret, and Huey didn’t like it.

They ended up outside, at the top of the treehouse.

“Servants!” Doofus snapped. “Prepare the gravy bath!”

Huey stared at him blankly. “The gravy what now?”

“You’ll see,” he replied gleefully. Not a normal type of glee, of course — Huey was quickly learning that there was very little about this kid that was normal (and not in the type of way that Huey wasn’t “normal”, either). It was worrisome.

“The gravy bath,” the butler echoed hauntedly. Huey, his concern growing, could only look at him in confusion.

“The gravy bath,” Doofus began, “is one of my favorite pastimes.” Well that couldn’t be good. “And if it doesn’t work, I’m sure there are… other methods of teaching you how to be a better friend.”

The maid and butler dragged out a bathtub (from where, Huey had no idea), scurrying away the moment it was (presumably) in place.

“Seriously, what is a gravy bath?” Huey asked nervously. He would have tried to back away had Doofus not been gripping his arm so tightly.

Said duckling shoved him into the empty tub, and Huey grunted in pain as he landed. Still, this was an open tub, which meant it might have been his only chance to flee.

He flailed about, nearly throwing himself over the opposite edge of the tub. The butler forced him back in, but Huey didn’t stop struggling, even as his bracelet activated. Doofus grabbed his free hand tightly, pulling a second bracelet from his pocket and slipping it over Huey’s wrist.

With both of his hands now glued to the bottom of the tub, Huey was stuck.

The two adults then proceeded to wheel out what looked like a giant… gravy boat. And when he said giant, he meant giant. It looked big enough to function as an actual boat. He was pretty sure he, Dewey, Louie, and Webby could fit in there if they squeezed.

“Wonderful! Servants, you’re dismissed.”

They all but ran to the elevator, barely missing a beat. As scared as he was, Huey couldn’t blame them.

“What are you going to do?” he asked again, looking up at the boat nervously. Was that steam coming off of it?

Doofus’s beak twitched into a smile, and he pulled out a small blue remote.

Huey began squirming again, his stomach churning in anxiety for what could be coming. Doofus wasn’t actually that crazy, was he?

He got his answer when a small beep sounded from the remote. The gravy boat tipped, and something hot (very, very hot), poured over Huey’s head.

He shouted, fighting against the restraints with every ounce of his willpower. It burned. And it was spreading, a continuous stream of the stuff (was this actual gravy?) raining down on him.

It was splattering onto Doofus’s clothes, but he didn’t even seem to mind.

“Turn it off!” Huey begged, crying out at the pain. It was a thousand times worse than any other burn he’d ever received, and there was nothing he could do to get away.

It began to pool around him, burning his hands. He couldn’t. Get. Away.

“Please,” he sobbed, breath hitching and unable to stop the tears.

It was like the time one of his particularly horrible bullies had attempted to shove him into the fire at a Junior Woodchucks camp out, but so much worse.

Not only was this actually successful, but he would have been pulled from that fire in seconds had he actually been pushed in. This was constant, never ending pain, thick liquid fire pouring over him like molten lava.

It was in his eyes, now, blinding and burning and pain pain pain.

A hand grabbed him, and suddenly it was tenderly wiping the fire from his eyes, jerking him forward so it streamed down his back instead.

Huey cried even harder.

All he could taste was the gravy, burning his feathers, his tongue, his everything.

It hurt. So bad.

The tub was nearly filled, the lower half of his body completely submerged in the stuff. Finally, after what must have been eternity, the stream dripped to a stop.

He let himself hope, for a meager few seconds, that it was over. But hope was hard to come by when one was literally sitting in a tub of burning gravy.

Doofus placed his hand on Huey’s head, tangling his fingers in Huey’s hair for a moment — wait. When had his hat come off? — before abruptly gripping it so hard that Huey couldn’t keep another sob in. His head was shoved violently down, and suddenly his entire body was on fire all at once.

He couldn’t breathe. He was choking on the stuff. No air. No nothing. Just heat, just pain, just the hand forcefully holding him under.

He didn’t know how Doofus could stand to have even his hand touching it.

His head went blurry. Was blurry the right word? He couldn’t remember. Everything was heavy and floaty and — he was dragged back up.

Huey coughed and sputtered, taking in as much air as he could manage. Everything hurt.

The bracelets must have been released at some point, because then he was being lifted from the tub, gravy spilling over the side. He was too weak to even attempt to fight back as Doofus dragged him back inside.

Distantly, he wondered who was going to clean up the gravy that was getting all over the carpets. Probably that maid and butler. He felt kind of bad for them.

The gravy that still coated his feathers, at the very least, wasn’t too unbearable anymore. But the burns he’d received were, and he had the suspicion that he wouldn’t be receiving medical attention. He sniffled.

He felt so gross, so… wrong.

“Wait,” he gasped, still struggling to breathe properly. “My — my hat,” he said, “and my guidebook, can I have them back?”

“Oh, those? I’m afraid the gravy ruined them,” Doofus replied, in such a casual manner that it took Huey a moment to actually process it.

“What?” he choked out, his heart dropping in his chest.

He was dragged through the door, his mind reeling. Louie and Dewey audibly gasped at the sight of him. He could only be thankful that the gravy managed to cover the burn marks that would no doubt be underneath.

“What did you do to him?” Louie asked nervously as Huey was placed back in his spot.

Doofus smiled. “Don’t fret, my sweet,” he said, wrapping his arms around Louie in a way that made Huey want to vomit. “He’ll be fine. And as for you… well, I have something special planned for you.”

It seemed, thank goodness, that he didn’t plan to act on whatever it was right now, because with that, he released Louie, spun towards the door, and left them alone.

Huey wiped his eyes with his free hand. They needed to get out of here.

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 7 "Beware of Young Girls" (Note: Offensive content, use at own discretion)

If we're ever gonna find out what happened to that baby, we have to figure out who that woman was.

That got way out of hand.

I think I figured out what my problem is. I'm way too nice.

This is what happens to sneaky backstabbers.

Just so you know, I took all your clothes.

It's too bad you had to die before we found out what ethnicity you are.

God, I loved porking you so much.

Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today because a backstabbing little bitch got exactly what was coming to her.

I have a colonic!

You were a stupid, little trollop, and I hope you're burning in hell right now.

There's nothing left to talk about.

Do you find it so shocking?

And you tried to frame me for murder!

I promise to never betray your trust again.

You most certainly won't betray my trust ever again, because you will never have my trust ever again!

It has two dancing demons, a dead old lady and cute little pentagrams.

I am going to prove that bitch wrong!

I told you to get rid of him!

I do not want to hear about how this is hard for you, okay?

Now, will you please go kill some people?

Okay, I'm not totally sure you understand how fashion works.

In, like, five years, my clothes are gonna be super hip again.

I like the borderline-creepy way he looks out for you.

He's kind of the perfect guy.

Well, thanks for being cool with me.

I haven't been inside here in a while.

He was in his mid-50s, so he could only get it up, like, once or twice a week.

Tell us something you learned this week about what it means to be a woman.

Everywhere I'd go, she'd just be there, dressed exactly like me.

Hey, did you spill ketchup in the shape of an arrow on the floor?

Are you having sex with a goat?

You looked me in the eye and promised me you would try to be monogamous!

I am breaking up with you.

You are gonna close that door, and you're gonna hear me out.

My whole life, I've lived with a secret shame. And that secret shame is that-- I'm lactose intolerant.

Lactose intolerance afflicts around 50% of the human population, who spend their entire lives walking past Baskin Robbins knowing that if they even have a little bit of ice cream, they're gonna fart a bunch. And if you weren't so ignorant, and you cracked a book every once in a while, you would know that goat's milk, it's lactose free.

I'm so sorry I doubted you.

Look, if it makes you feel any better we can totally bang if you want.

I mean, I knew I had had one hurricane too many, but let's be honest, one hurricane is one hurricane too many.

When my mouth has been where it's been on your body, I think we can safely say we are more than kind of friends.

Look, this is super awkward, but someone killed and dismembered your ex-husband last night, and they put his head in a fish tank.

Seriously, you're under arrest.

They don't care. They're nuts.

I was just doing a little sketching.

Designing formal wear is an old hobby of mine.

Look what I've been able to accomplish with a little free time.

No booze, obviously, but the meds are divine. The little blue ones make you feel like your organs are floating in a warm bath.

I don't trust a girl with a huge bush of pubic hair. Makes me think she has something to hide.

I specifically told you I cannot eat deli meats. The sulfites in them send me into anaphylactic shock. No salami and certainly no bologna!

I want you to know that I think you killed them all, and I hope you get the electric chair for it.

I've frickin' had it with you!

Technically, she just said that he was cheating, but she never said anything about a goat.

Don't interrupt me when I'm talking to a dead girl!

Why do you have nine tampons? How big is your cooch?

I really think we should stop, because this is really, really freaking me out.

No, hooker! We're not stopping.

Have fun in hell going to dinner with Osama bin Laden.

But, I mean, can we really trust a satanic talking board?

Talking boards tend not to hold up in court.

I say we poison her bras.

We have to be super sneaky about it, because if we're not, she'll smell a rat and kill us first.

What the hell is a sugar party?

We were just talking about throwing a sugar party.

I thought you were dead.

I am dead. I'm burning in hell.

I came back from the grave to apologize to you.

Yes, there are waterslides, but they're lined with razor blades and you splash down into a pool of boiling pee.

As soon as I got there, I was like, "Where are the dinosaurs?"

I guess I was just intimidated by your beauty and intelligence.

I was just jealous. I wanted what you had, and I really needed my tube packed.

I accept your apology. And I'm sorry you got murdered and are dead.

Well, looks like I'll have to kill them first.

Be the bigger person!

Now rise up and be the leader I know you can be.

Yeah, I just, I just get a little faint when I see blood.

A perfect DNA match. That is what the lab said.

It's pretty suspicious behavior.

Oh, Mommy's home.

She's what a psychiatrist friend of mine refers to as a "capicolaphilist" which is not, as I thought, someone who's turned on by the sight and feel of lunch meats but, more disgustingly, someone who's turned on by someone who pronounces bologna the way it's spelled;"bow-log-na."

You're plotting to murder me.

What I'm curious about is what, exactly, is taking so long?

Rat poison only works because rodents don't have a gag reflex. If you gave a human rat poison, they would immediately puke it all up. So not only would I have survived your attempt on my life, it would have also made me skinnier.

It was stupid to try to murder you.

I'm willing to let bygones be bygones and chalk this attempted murder up to youthful enthusiasm.

Here's to young girls getting what they had coming to them.

You know what they say-- "nothing tastes as good as revenge feels." Actually, they don't say it. I just sort of made that up.

I've got to stay focused.

Are you hungry, 'cause I'm hungry.

[brideofcthulhu10]

Next up on our list my lovelies is Paul! A special thank you to @trescharmant-mydear for helping me with brainstorming ideas when writers block had me stumped! I hope you fang babes all enjoy the next boy in our child birth saga!

Lost Boys Fem!S/O Gives Birth [2/4]

Paul

The whole pregnancy thing was undoubtedly a massive shock when you had finally told him. At first he wasn’t even sure it was his. Granted you slugged him for even suggesting you had been having an affair but he couldn’t help it! The idea of impregnation was pretty much impossible as far as they knew. He had no heartbeat, the blood in his veins was dead and black, he kind of assumed by that point his gun was shooting blanks. That is until you began rejecting anything that wasn’t blood or meat. Every day he could see more of that reality coming into play. At first he thought maybe he had just imagined it, but when your stomach grew in really sank in. 

 He was terrified beyond belief knowing he’d soon be responsible for a living, breathing thing- er baby- guh! The word freaked him out. No one even warned him what came with it. Well, Dwayne tried to but those books were nasty. Especially the pictures. Paul tried his best to sit through them but it just stressed him out! There wouldn’t be a doctor! There would be no sterilized hospital bed where a team of nurses would be on standby if there were complications- hell, they wouldn’t be able to know if there even were any complications! That’s what scared him more than anything. You both were utterly in the dark. Were you healthy? Was the baby healthy? Could this kill you if they weren't careful? Ultrasounds were out too, so he couldn't even know if it was a boy or a girl. The uncertainty of it all was torture!

The only way he knew they were still alive was from his own bizarre connection to them. Sure his mental powers were never as clean cut as David’s, but he could still feel their emotions inside you. It was raw. There were no clear thoughts. Even the emotions would pile over each other. Hungry, tired, anxious, hyper, mad, happy. It was almost like there was more than one consciousness in there, but he just figured it was your own heartbeat and emotions clouding the baby's.

Hormones were wild between you both. You wanted sex more than you ever had before, and at first he was all for it. Being the mother of his unborn child brought out a desire that was utterly foreign to him. Yeah he loved you to death before, but now… he couldn't keep his hands off of you. The first few months it was wild, but the bigger you got the more worried he was that something could happen if he lost control. Okay, well, as long as he was careful right? But, things did not go exactly to plan when a firm kick pressed on his erm… Needless to say it certainly freaked him out. Then came the morning sickness.

Fuck whatever liar came up with that name. “Morning”? Try morning, noon, night, and the ass crack of dawn. Twenty-four seven. He hated seeing you hugging a trash bin, panting between excruciating heaves that made your stomach spasm. Paul could only hold your hair back while you gurgled out sobs. It was even harder knowing he was partially responsible for putting you in this position to begin with. Afterwards he’d carry you back to your bed. Yeah, bed. All the guys had felt that you needed something way better than a couch to crash on. There were more pillows and blankets than you could count. Piles on the bed, scattered on the floor, stacked up in the corners. With a bit of searching they’d found a pocket-cave branching just off their own that kept you out of sight and even better, nearby. What Paul really couldn’t account for was how frickin’ clumsy you were! 

Oops you just banged your knee! Well looks like you accidentally nicked your hand while peeling a freaking apple! Paul nearly ripped a guys head off for bumping into you on the boardwalk just to cut in line with his stupid friends. Eventually he just refused to leave your side during the second trimester when he found a bruise on your stomach. You didn’t have the heart to tell him those were from the baby kicking. While the guys went hunting he’d just lay beside you in bed gushing over your taut belly. The baby always stirred when he spoke, even more so when he’d serenade them. His voice always made your face heat up, and inside you could feel your child eagerly pressing up. While Paul was certainly uneasy about his encroaching parenthood he was over the moon the first time the baby really kicked. Even if it seemed scary he was so excited he could hardly sleep most nights. Every day he'd wonder when they'd get here, bombarding you with thousands of questions.

"Do you think they'll have your eyes? I bet if it's a boy he'll be a bad ass like his dad, huh," he asked. There was almost a glee to his voice, it was so adorable to watch him shed that panic for just a moment to fantasize about the baby. Anything. Teaching them to play guitar, taking them on their first hunt. He didn't care if it was a boy or girl. Part of you really hoped it'd be a little girl. 

“They probably won’t get any eye color until the fifth month I think,” you’d remind him, flipping through the aged pages of a baby book. "I do know if it is a boy he's gonna be so much like you."

"Unless it's a girl," he pondered, tapping your belly like it was an over ripe melon, watching it stirr with life. "Oh god you'll break so many hearts. But no boyfriends. Or girlfriends. Only dad."

"Babe thats not gonna be for years," you assured, petting his head. "You can't keep them from dating when they're old enough."

"Uh, the fuck I can't," he retorted, his hand kicked again. "Yeah I said it. No dating for you"

As they grew you could feel something was.. Off. Granted you couldn’t do much to check but, it almost felt like there was more than one heartbeat...

Your due date was slowly rolling closer as summer shed it's long, hot days for the chilled season of autumn. Tonight was a late, stormy October night. Most of Santa Carla was holed up at home hoping it wouldn’t rain tomorrow on Halloween. Paul grumbled slurping at a blood bag laying on his side as he propped his head on his hand, currently bored out of his mind while you carved at a pumpkin with Marko. 

“I think it needs more teeth,” you’d say to yourself out loud.

Marko peeked over, titling his head to the side. “More eyes too.”

All the guys decided to stay back tonight. It wasn’t just the rain, all of them were nervous to leave you alone. None of them were doctors, but even they could tell your stomach was much bigger than expected. Dwayne was flipping through an old book while David had just gotten back from a hunt. 

Ever since you hit your third trimester each of them took turns gathering blood. A few blood bags alone would not cover it for four hungry vampires and an honorary vamp who had a ton of cravings. Instead they'd carry four or five empty milk jugs that'd be filled to the brim with sloshing, goopy red fluid. 

"Guys, you oughta go get something to eat, you don't need to watch me twenty-four seven," you insist, carefully dragging the knife through the thick gourd's flesh. 

"This wasn't up for debate last time, it’s still not now," David retorted, tossing one of the jugs Dwayne's way. Marko caught a second one, eagerly knocking back a swig. The sight made you want to throw up again. It was slow, like a thick molasses dyed crimson with globs of congealed plasma. Okay looking at the pumpkin again before you had to puke. 

"Don't worry about us, Y/N," Marko insisted with red stained teeth, tossing the now half empty jug to Paul. "It's only a few more months. Blood is blood."

Paul stood up, swooping behind you with his arms around your shoulders. "Speakin' of blood kitten, you need to eat." You looked at the jug as he set it on the table and immediately scrunched up your nose. Now, it'd been seven and a half months of drinking it, so you'd gotten used to the bizarre taste of salty, vinegary cherries with a metallic aftertaste. It always made your body heat up, the feeling itself was better than any booze you'd tried. But the texture. Oh god the fricking texture! Blobby, goopy, slimy- no! 

"Uuuugh," you hesitated, only to have Marko push it towards you. “Can’t I just have a raw steak or something, it’s not nearly as gnarly as straight blood.”

"Don't be picky, you need to eat."

You glanced back at Paul who was just pouting behind you. "Come on babes, drink up."

Once again. Thick, soupy but warm fluids ran down the back of your throat. Everything felt heated, spreading from your stomach to each of your limbs. This time you felt an ache in the base of your abdomen. It was enough to incite a small gasp. And with that suddenly each of them had sat up. 

"What's wrong, what's going on," Paul quickly asked, placing a hand over your stomach. 

Marko had stood up, looking at you with a furrowed brow. "Is it-?"

"Guys, guys," you interrupt. "I'm okay, I swear. It was just a cramp."

It wasn't even a surprise when Paul lifted you up again bridal-style. "Paul,c’mon, I’m fine, really."

"Nope, nope I am not even risking that shit babes. C'mon kitten I'll lay with ya," he insisted, kicking anything on the floor out of his way. But again it ached. This time it lasted two minutes. You clung to him, trying to take a breath. This wasn’t your average false contraction that would only occur maybe every hour. "Paul- Paul it's not stopping."

"Wait wait wait what," Paul asked in rapid following, gently setting you down. Marko had gotten up to help you stand with Paul on the other side. A sharp pain wrapped around your waist. Now another two minutes. It was enough to make you double over with your hands over your stomach. 

"Shit oh shit wait hold on." Paul was in a panic. He wasn't ready! The baby wasn't supposed to be there for another month! It was too soon! 

You, on the other hand, were far too busy trying to keep yourself standing. It wasn't just your abdomen. It was your stomach, all the way up your back, your womb felt like it was being torn open from inside. Dwayne jumped over the sofa when the two blondes failed to move, lifting you up. Your jeans were soaked, sharp pains were faster, harder, any time another contraction squeeze you let out an agonized cry. 

They all made a mad dash for your room, propping you up against a pile of pillows. "No,  no wait, don't look," you insisted to the others as Paul tried to help you get your soggy jeans off.

"I'm about to help you push a baby out, and you're getting embarrassed by us seeing your underwear," Dwayne questioned

"Shut up, turn your fuckin head," Paul snapped. Carefully he draped a blanket over your legs, pulling off your jeans. There was utter fear across his face. He was so afraid of what this could do to you.

 "Hey.. its okay," you assured him, cupping his face. Well, okay was a bit of an overstatement. Still, the tender touch seemed to provide some small ease as he placed his hand over yours. Again, you assured him it'd all be okay. Marko came running in with a bucket of warm water, David was grumbling about carrying over a mountain of towels, Dwayne leaned over Paul tapping him hard on the back of his shoulder. "Paul you need to check how dilated she is."

"WHAT?"

It was time for both of you chiming in disbelief. "No no, wait Dwayne man, I can't-!"

"If she pushes before she's ready, the baby will get hurt in the process," he interrupted him, grabbing Paul by his shoulders. "You gotta do it, man, I can't do it for you."

"The fuck, why me?!"

"Paul?!" It was your turn to question his logic and the blonde threw up his hands, clutching at his head trying to think.

"I'm sorry! I'm panicking!"

"Dude Paul," Marko shouted.

"What?!"

"Listen, man, this can't be good for either of them. Nut up, dude," he assured him, patting his back. Paul looked at you, still trembling on your bed. You were just as scared as him, bottom lip trembling, he could even see your shoulders shaking. "...okay…" 

The feeling was so uncomfortable. You couldn't even focus between the throbbing pains that shot up your back and the tearing pull between your legs. Tears burned your eyes, you thought you might pass out. Marko was rapidly wiping away sweat from your face, letting you hold his hand. Even if you broke it, unlikely, it'd heal in an hour anyways. 

"Okay how many fingers can you manage," Dwayne asked, getting a strange look from Paul. "Just tell me how many, you asshole.:

"It's like, all my fingers man I dunno what that means."

"Go to her man, I got this," he assured, pushing him up to you. Paul climbed up on the bed beside you holding you tightly in his arms with your shoulder nestled against his armpit with one arm over your shoulder and the other you immediately snatched his hand, panting rapidly. "Shh slow down baby, slow down."

"God it fucking hurts," you whine, throwing your head back on the pillow. Blood stained the bed, a thick pink-red spot on the blanket spreading out. Your face was completely flushed as a tight pressure slowly dragged down your back that made your toes curl. If Paul wasn't pinning you in place you would be writhing. There was a horrid fire in your body, there were no words left in you, only screams. Dwayne's urges to push were muffled, the ache in you back slowly pulled lower until you were able to hear them. A thick gurgle followed by high pitched, raspy wailing. While Dwayne had pulled the infant into a thick, fluffy towel something felt wrong. It still hurt. Your stomach felt no relief, in fact you felt it pull and ache again. "Wa...wait i.. no it's-it's not done, I'm not done," you whimper in a panic.

"Wait what the hell do you mean you aren’t done?! I thought there was just one?!”

Paul looked over at Dwayne, who in turn ran to David and passed the swaddled newborn his way much to his dismay. “Just hold them for a minute man, we weren’t exactly expecting more!

“I got it,” Marko volunteered, climbing off to bed to hold the baby carefully in his grasp. Your screams tore through, a second wave of pain reviving old agony. There was little relief as the same horrid tension in your back spread out. Paul coaxed you through it, but somehow it hurt even worse than before.

“No,” you cried, shaking your head. Your face burned, tears streaming down your face leaving your vision completely blurry. “No no no, I can’t, let me go! I can't, I can’t! Paul, I can’t-!”

“Baby, listen you can do this! You got this, yes you fucking do,” he yelled over you holding your head to his shoulder. “Listen to me. C’mon you fucking got this, kitten! Don’t you give up, don’t you dare fucking give up now!”

With everything you had you screamed until your throat felt raw, pushing as hard as you could until finally, finally… it stopped. A huge wave of relief made your muscles go limp. Two. You just had given birth. To twins. The realization had finally hit Paul asw he looked up at Marko still holding his first born. “Are they…”

“Dude, you got a girl,” he beamed, carefully passing the swollen new born half-awake clinging to the towel. Occasionally her grey eyes squinted open, making trembling whimpers until she nestled back into sleep.

You managed to catch your breath, Marko helping you lay down while Dwayne circled around with your son. A boy too. You couldn’t help but laugh through tears, finally able to see his face after so many months of waiting. Paul couldn’t even hold back tears, laughing like an idiot as he pulled you both in his arms. “Fuck man… oh shit I’m a fucking dad,” he choked out, trying to hide his tears.

“Let it out man,” Marko teased, patting his shoulders.

“Shit man I can't stop crying... they’re so perfect.” Paul ran a hand gently over his son’s head still softly crying in your arms, watching him soothed as he clung to his finger. He looked you in the eyes, both of you just in utter awe that you brought not one, but two lives to the world. Nothing but tears and smiles between you. It was October 31st, 2 am, and you had spent the past four and a half hours of Hell to bring your twins (Girl Name) and (Boy name). Paul could not even fathom the amount of love he was feeling, trailing kisses all over your lips and cheeks. “Happy Halloween, kitten.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, laying your head back against his chest just unable to tear your eyes away from your beautiful new family after so many hours of grueling pain, so much waiting, in the end it was worth more than either of you had ever dreamed.

 “Happy Halloween, babe…”