#ill be on call for emergencies sure but i can just. be at home

[kirishwima]

man. ive got good coworkers 😭

[venus-haze]

Playing Pretend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander’s secret identity is an ill-fated experiment in normalcy for a man who had grown up with anything but. He manages to keep his story straight until he runs into you in the hallway of your building one night, assuming the blood on his face and clothes are his and not the low-level criminals he’d just taken care of. While you’re playing nurse, Homelander’s playing John, but he’s not sure how much longer he can keep up the facade around you.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. So Casual!Lander got me thinking about secret identity!Homelander again. Do not interact if you're under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Some emotional manipulation, but this is on the fluffier side of things I've written.

Homelander hadn’t expected the blood on his civilian clothes to be much of a problem. It was late, he reported the incident to Vought and would be up a few points when the story hit the news in the morning. Typically, he returned to the Tower when something like this happened, but instead, he was drawn to the apartment he’d been set up with as part of his undercover identity.

A secret identity was exciting at first, a brand new challenge for him. Except he didn’t entirely get it. Wasn’t the point of everything he’d been through so that he could be Homelander? The best of the best, America’s savior? Not some guy named John living in a crappy apartment downtown. But Edgar wanted it, and so it was done.

The apartment itself didn’t feel like home. The pictures on the wall, knick-knacks on the bookshelves, they weren’t his. But the man he was pretending to be had a dizzying backstory that he found difficult to keep track of at first, and then irrationally jealous of once he got the hang of spitting out anecdotes about family barbecues and youth basketball leagues. Stuff everyone else got except for him, apparently, because they were always met with mind-numbingly boring stories of other people’s mirrored experiences that he had to “Oh?” and “Wow!” through like he actually cared.

“John!” You called out from down the hall as he approached, laundry basket in your arms.

He smiled. A real one. At least in all of this, he met you.

“Hey neighbor!” he greeted cheerfully, as if it were bright and early and not nearly midnight.

“What are you—” Your face twisted as he approached. Your heart thumped almost deafeningly. “Oh my god, what happened?”

“What?”

“John, you’re bleeding. Let me take you to the emergency room.”

“That’s not necessary. I–I don’t like doctors,” he said, the statement not feeling as much like a lie as he thought. “Most of it isn’t even mine.”

“I have a first aid kit in my bathroom. At least let me clean you up a little?”

“Alright,” he reluctantly agreed.

You practically kicked open the door to your place, throwing your laundry basket aside and making a beeline for the bathroom like his life depended on it. If he were anyone else, it probably would have. He caught his warped reflection in your stainless steel refrigerator and cringed a bit. It did look pretty bad.

He inexplicably tensed upon seeing you return with the first aid kit, your brows knit together in worry. 

“Sit, please,” you urged as you laid out the contents of the kit on your kitchen table. “Oh John, what happened?”

“You know me, I always gotta get the story,” he said, his cover as a crime reporter not having failed him yet.

Your eyes watered as you looked at him. “One of these days you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“What I’m doing helps people. It saves lives. That’s worth it to me.”

You picked up a cotton ball soaked in peroxide. “Let me know if it hurts, okay?”

He hesitated. That kind of thing had never been up to him. It either hurt or it didn’t, and if it didn’t hurt, they’d find out how to make it so it did. 

“Okay,” he said, tense as your hand approached his face.

Even thinking about the doctors he grew up with made an ugly pit settle heavy in his stomach. But you weren’t a doctor. You were you, and it was cute how you played nurse. Tended to his wounds like they were real, like the blood was his. Did you notice how quickly they disappeared beneath your cotton-padded touch, leaving no trace of cut or bruise behind?

“It looks a lot worse than it is, don’t worry,” you assured him.

“That’s good.”

He had plenty of practice sitting patiently while being poked and prodded, but never with the unnecessary care you used. 

He wanted to tell you. But then it’d defeat the purpose of a secret identity. Besides, just outright telling you wouldn’t be the grand, romantic gesture he pictured. 

Late at night. You. Alone in the city for god knows what reason even though you know better. He’s told you enough that you should know better. It wouldn’t matter. Because he’d be there. The Homelander swooping in to save you from some thug on the street. It’d be then that you’d see him for who he really was, who he was made to be instead of the pitiful facade you were presently tending to. So taken by the act, by him, your hero, you’d melt in his arms and let him take you away from the hovel of an apartment building you two shared and into bliss.

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed, dabbing just above his eyebrow with a cotton ball. “I’m almost done.”

Sorry? Oh. You thought you hurt him. “I told you, I can take it.”

“I still feel bad,” you said. “Did you go to the police?”

“No, you know I usually don’t bother with that. Interferes with my own investigations,” he said.

You pursed your lips. You didn’t quite believe him, or were at least frustrated with his lack of personal safety. Worrying you wasn’t something he wanted to be in the habit of, but you poured out attention and care for him in such a way he could feel himself itching for more. It’d been like that since he first met you, the only kind and welcoming person in the damn building. Perhaps that was why he kept up with his secret identity for so much longer than he wanted to, his attachment to you, to this fake life he led with you in it.

But he could just as easily make a new one, a better one for the both of you once you knew the truth. 

“You made out alright, John,” you said, glancing over his face. “Really well, actually. It doesn’t even look like anything happened.”

“I’m tougher than I look,” he joked, hoping to dissipate some of your suspicion.

He heard you swallow roughly.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

You reached out, caressing his cheek. “I just worry about you, that’s all.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I can’t help it.”

Silence fell between the two of you for a few moments, and you began to pull your hand away from his face until he caught your wrist and spoke your name softly.

“I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” you asked.

He hesitated a moment. I’m The Homelander. Instead, he pulled you closer, his gaze falling to your lips before kissing you.

You kissed him back softly, with an otherwise foreign tenderness that made him especially conscious of how he held you. His physical control was better, almost perfect. No more accidental bone breaking or spine snapping. He wouldn’t be The Homelander if he couldn’t control himself. 

But it was hard, with how deeply he felt for you, how much his emotions threatened to overtake years of practice and conditioning to manage his sheer strength. The Homelander didn’t have any weaknesses—save for seeing through zinc—but he was certain none of the scientists who poked and prodded him for years on end would have ever bet on you.

[thesuperiorrobin]

Last trimester~

Pairing: Husband! Damian Wayne x Pregnant!Wife! Reader

Warning: Mentions of vomiting, reader is like 6-7 months pregnant

Word count: 750

Damian is confused. Every inch of his home has been clean to the T, not a single dust left behind to stick itself on any surface it comes across. So why on earth are you still vomiting your guts out? It started once you had emerged into the third trimester of your pregnancy, everything seemed to be going smoothly, and you were lucky enough to only handle a handful of morning sickness and after a while, they just stopped. Maybe it was karma coming to bite you in the ass for bragging about not getting sick every five minutes and here you are now, sitting on the couch, relaxed as you lean back wearing a pair of black sweats and a shirt that was once too big for you rolled up over your stomach to show off its roundness.

A sigh escapes your lips as you soothe away the slight pain after the precious being you’ve been creating and holding for the past seven months has decided to be cruel and kick at you to stop. “Here you go Habibti” Damian comes from the kitchen with a glass of water in his hands as she walks over to you and passes it down to you. You take it from his hands with a small ‘thank you’. He notices that slight pain expression on your face as he watches you rub away at your belly. “Have they been given you a hard time?”

“Not as much as I’d like to admit,” you say as you take a few sips of water. Damian takes it upon himself, after watching you finish the drink he takes the glass from your hand—kneeling right in between your legs as he places the glass cup on the ground. You watch him with tired eyes as his arms lift and his warm hands replace yours; finding a spot on your stomach. His warm hands feel much better than yours, the context making you sigh out and your own hands find his to be placed on top of. Damian’s hands start to roam around your stomach, your head falls back slightly, and find yourself closing your eyes as you enjoy the warm sensation.

“I cleaned the bathrooms, kitchen, our bedroom, the baby’s bedroom, and any other spare rooms in this house” he mumbles, eyes never leaving you as you hum. “Thank you, but you didn’t need—“

“I do if unwanted smells have been making you ill” A soft smile breaks out on your lips, eyes still closed as you sigh for the nth time. “And besides, it’s the least I can do. I feel useless seeing you in such a state. I feel like I’m not doing as much as I should be doing for my pregnant wife” Damian can feel you grip his hands slightly as you open your tried eyes and glance down.

“Oh ~” you coo, “you’re doing more than enough. Trust me” he cracks a smile, hands leaving your stomach as they find a place beside your thighs. He lifts himself, but not fully as he leans over your relaxed from on the couch. His green eyes find yours:

“I love you”

“I love you too” and Damian leans down to steal a kiss, one that lasts for a while but is cut very short with a rough push on his shoulders. He takes a glance of concern. Your face is pale and a hand over your mouth.

“Bathroom?” He asked and all it takes from you is a nod and he’s rushing you into the bathroom. He holds your hair back, watching as you vomit up your breakfast lunch, and snack. You can feel his warm hand rubbing your back gently. Damian helps you up and helps you freshen yourself up.

“I don’t think he likes it in there anymore, think he just wants out” You poke at your stomach and wince when you feel a harsh kick “Rude”

“He?” Damian asked “How can you be so sure?” you and Damian are waiting for the baby to be born to find out the gender, so it’s unknown to both of you at the moment. “Call it a mother’s intuition” you shrug with a smile.

Damian pinches at your cheeks softly with one hand and the other finds a place on your stomach once more “I still think it’s a girl”

“Nope, it’s a boy. One hundred percent” he rolls his eyes, dragging you to your shared bedroom.

Where the hell have I been?😭

[jyoongim]

An old request i thought i would try

————————————————————————————————

Human Alastor x demon!wife reader

FLUFF

————————————————————————————————-

Something was off about you.

Alastor just couldn’t put his finger on it.

He loved you dearly, he married you after all but there was just something uncanny about you.

You were obsessed with listening to the crime reports on the radio, relished in it. He would often catch you smiling in malicious glee at the gruesome details.

You weren’t like most women when he revealed that he was the cause of most of the murders in your town.

You asked him for details, even if you could go with him to see how he killed his victims.

Being the gentleman he was he refused, saying that blood and brains were nothing a pretty thing like yourself should see.

And for a time you listened.

Until he wasn’t back for dinner.

———————————————————————————

You caught scent of blood on the wind and followed it.

You knew Alastor had said he would be out ‘hunting’ tonight and that he would done quickly, but your husband was late and it made you worry.

The sound of a sharp cry greeted your ears and you ran through the woods to see your husband on the ground. His victim had his shovel raised above his head to hit him again and you saw red.

————————————————————————————-

He should have finished him off when he had the chance, but he wanted to taunt the man. He had underestimated his strength and canny as the man had gotten loose of his restraint and whacked him over the head with his shovel.

His head spun as he looked to the night sky and the only think he could think of was what were you making for dinner.

”Hope you burn in hell you pyscho” the man said as he raised the shovel and Alastor smirked.

How ironic.

The forest grew cold and a chitter rang through the air.

Fear not my love, Ill handle it that sounded like your voice

But how?

The sound of the shovel dropped to the ground as the man whipped around.

A pair of red eyes stared at him and the shadowy figure of a grotesque beast emerged for the trees.

You let out a thunderous growl as you approached the man, your eyes shifting to Alastor to make sure he was alright.

He was breathing, but he was severely wounded.

“what the devil are you?” The man whispered frightened.

You flashed your sharp teeth at him, a wide grin on your lips

”Your worst nightmare”

Alastor groaned as he sat up, his head spinning and in pain. He saw a large creature loom over him, slowly approaching his now attacker.

It was feminine. Long wild hair, a spiky tail, and beautiful black horns.

You jumped at the man, causing him to scream, but he was soon silenced as your claws ripped him in half.

You clawed and ripped into him, gorging him of his innards and chomping into him. You plucked his beating heart and swallowed it, blood dripping from your lips, marring your face.

You let out a huff and turned around to see Alastor staring at you.

You approached him slowly and a bloody claw reached for his face

”Are you alright dearest?”

He tilted his head in confusion at the question and your form shifted back to normal.

His eyes widened “You’re a …”

You smiled sheepishly “Your kind call us demons, though it is a very broad term”

His eyes searched yours and you feared he would shrink away from you, turn tail and run.

But he smiled at you with that suave smile and leaned into your hand

”just when I thought you couldn’t be more perfect”

You helped him up and began to carry him back home.

”I don’t repulse you?” You asked nervously. You had never intended to let your husband in on your true identity, for fear he would abandon you.

But the lanky man nuzzled into your shoulder “heavens no dear, but that does explain everything”

”Can a human fuck a demon?”

You laughed, your eyes flashing as you looked at him

”Care to find out husband?”

—————————————————————————————-

[prettyinpurplelights]

hii ur writing is SOO SOO good im practically going insane over ur mbappe writings. could u pls write smth about mbappe being sick and reader having to take care of him but he's just enjoying being a brat and clinging to reader ? like imagine taking care of this manchild. imagine the HAVOC he would wreck if he didn't get a kiss from his gf

HOUR OF NEED

Heyy, thank you for your lovely words, means so much 🫶🏿 hope this is okay!

“You’re leaving me here all by myself? This is your fault.” Your boyfriend sniffles, pouting as you put on your jacket, ready to leave the house.

“I warned you about kissing me last week when I was sick.”

“But your mouth was so nice and warm.”

“And now here we are.”

“So you’re going to abandon me in my hour of need?”

“Kylian, it’s just a cold. You’ll survive.” You roll your eyes.

“I hope you know those may be your last words to me. Ever! Who knows if I’ll still be alive and breathing when you get back.” He shivers dramatically and you grab your bag, placing your phone in your coat pocket.

“I spent all day yesterday playing nurse Ky, I have to go to the office.”

“And you think if nurses just left their patients before they got better, anyone would recover?”

“You are a ridiculous man Kylian Mbappe. You have a runny nose and a high temperature, just keep hydrated and take your pills. I’ll see you at 6.” You reach over to kiss his forehead and he rolls over and pulls the covers high over his head.

“You don’t deserve to kiss me.” His voice his muffled under the blankets and you laugh.

“Whatever you big baby.” You call as you shut the bedroom door behind you.

————

“So if we push the campaign from this angle, I think the overall engagement would-“

PING!

Your phone buzzes for the hundredth time in the last 10 minutes since you started giving your pitch to the newest clients at your firm. You reach for your phone to turn it off, apologising profusely, when it starts ringing and you see your boyfriend’s face lighting up the screen.

“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this very quickly, I really apologise.” You hold your hands in a prayer sign before scrambling out of the office with the phone to your ear.

“Kylian, what the hell do you want.”

“Y/N…” his voices sounds strained and breathless, and you immediately begin to worry.

“Kyky? Baby what’s wrong?”

“I just…can you…” He coughs violently and you wince. He really doesn’t sound good, and you feel start to feel a little guilty for leaving him alone. “Can you…come home please? E…Emergency.” He croaks out that last part, as though he doesn’t have the energy to do anything else.

“Oh baby. I’ll be there as soon as I can okay? I’m sorry for not taking you seriously. I’m leaving the office as soon as I can.”

“Thank you,” he breathes before hanging up abruptly and you think the absolute worst. Maybe it wasn’t just a cold, maybe it was something worse, and now he’s alone and confused and deteriorating. You head back into the conference room, chewing on the inside of your cheek anxiously.

“Everything okay Y/N?” Your boss asks.

“Yes, ummm, it’s just my boyfriend is really ill right now, and he’s just called me and he doesn’t sound too good so I’m a bit worried that’s all. But we can get this pitch finished up and I’ll go and quickly see him on my lunch break-“

“Kylian is ill?” He says, shocked as if you’d just told him his own mother on was on her death bed. “Oh no, you must go to him right away. We have the PowerPoint and your notes, Lisa can finish your pitch.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes of course, I hope he makes a speedy recovery.”

“Thank you so much, and I really am sorry.” You disconnect your laptop from the hdmi cable connected to the project and slide it into your handbag.

“Don’t worry about it Y/N, please let us know how he’s doing tomorrow, you don’t have to come in if he’s still not feeling well.” He smiles. You thank him one last time before rushing out of the office and down to the elevator to the underground car park. You barely lock your seatbelt in place before hightailing it out of the building.

“Kylian!” You yell as soon as you make it back into the apartment. You drop your bag at the door and hurry up the steps, taking them two at time. It’s not long before you’re bursting into the bedroom. “Ky, baby what’s wrong? Have your symptoms gotten worse?” You sit on the bed, taking his sweaty face into your hands. “I’m sorry for leaving you baby.”

“You’re back.” He croaks.

“Of course,” you sigh leaning in to kiss him and he lets you this time. “What was so urgent?”

“I…the bistro is out of chicken soup and I really want some chicken soup, I was wondering if you could make some for me please?” You drop his head, and he falls back onto the pillow violently.

“Ouch!” He moans, rubbing his head.

“Kylian…” you close your eyes, your right hand pressing on the bridge of your nose. “Kylian, do not tell me you pulled me out of work because you want FUCKING SOUP!”

“I missed you too?” He pouts.

“Kylian! I was in an important meeting with my boss!”

“The one that’s the PSG fan? I’ll have someone send him some tickets to our next game, he’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes.

“Of course that’s why he let me leave the office without hesistation….but that’s not the point Ky!”

“Look babe, I’m sorry for making you leave work.” He doesn’t look sorry in the slightest and it pisses you off even more. “But I mean…you’re here now? So…”

“So???”

He opens his arms, his eyes wide as he smiles. “Come spend the day in bed with me.” You throw a pillow at him, landing in the space his open arms created, before storming out of the room.

“Where are you going?” He calls out.

“To make YOUR FUCKING SOUP!“ you shout back. “Tu es un putain d’idiot!”

———

You feel someone’s arms wrap around you as you’re stirring the soup and you shrug your shoulders.

“Get off me Kylian.” You mumble.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks, holding you tighter as he presses a kiss into your neck.

“Kylian Mbappe Lottin, I’m within an arms reach of very sharp objects. Get the fuck off me.”

“No.” He insists, burying his head further into your neck. “I want to hug you. I read somewhere hugs and kisses when you’re sick are very healing.” He moves from behind you to stand by your side, his arms around your shoulders instead, leaning forward with his eyes closed and lips pursed. You shove the teaspoon you were using to taste the soup into his mouth instead and push him off you as you untie your apron and place it on the work surface.

“You can keep your kisses. I’m not trying to get sick again.”

“You kissed me earlier when you came back?”

“Yeah when I thought you were on your death bed you manipulative man child.”

“Oh Y/N, come on!” He whines, stomping his feet. “I’m not a baby.” You look at his stomping foot and raise an eyebrow. He stops and his lips turn up in a little smile. “Okay fine, maybe I am a baby. But I’m your baby. And your baby is sick and needs you. He needs your kisses. Desperately or he might drop to the floor right now.”

“Drop. I don’t care, I’m not kissing you.”

“But I said I’m sorry!” He groans.

“And you’re forgiven. But I’m not kissing you. I don’t want to get sick again.”

“Actually,” he says, coming up to you as you reach into a cabinet above the sink to grab two bowls. “Since I caught this cold from you, it’s the same strain, and you can’t catch a cold twice with the same strain of virus. So you can kiss me as much as you want.”

“And since when did you become Dr. Mbappe.”

“I did some reading in the 3 hours you abandoned me.” You slide past him and start serving up the soup in the bowls.

“Good for you.”

He takes the bowls from you and sets them on the island before backing you up against the counter. The blanket around his shoulders falls to the floor as he rests his arms either side of you on the granite worktop, trapping your body between his.

“Just one kiss.” He whispers against your lips, his face barely an inch from yours. “Please. Just one.”

“Fine.” You press your lips against his lightly, ready to pull away but his hands cage your face, and he presses his lips harder against yours, deepening the kiss. You both pull away eventually breathless, your hand around his neck.

“Better?” You ask in a low voice.

“I’m cured.” He murmurs, before he suddenly recoils and sneezes all over your face.

“DUDE!” You shout, pushing him away as you reach for a tissue.

“Well, almost cured.” He laughs, stopping when he sees your stone cold expression, your eyes shooting daggers at him. You shove his bowl of soup into his chest and go to sit on the sofa with yours. You soon feel Kylian snuggle up next to you, lying down dramatically with his hand over his forehead.

“I suddenly feel weak and dizzy, I don’t think I can hold myself up Y/N.”

“What? You want me to feed you the soup now?”

“If you insist.” He smirks.

“You are unbelievable,” You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too as you pick up the bowl and hold a spoonful to his lips.

“I also think a kiss in between each spoonful will really help speed up my recovery process.” He nods as he slurps the soup from the spoon.

“You know what, you should legally change your name to Mbaby.”

“Haha funny.” He retorts. He points to the soup, then his lips before opening his mouth wide. You intentionally put the bowl down and pull out your phone, flipping the camera to selfie mode and holding it up so both you and Kylian are in the frame simultaneously.

“Look at this big baby here,” You start, as you press the live option on your instagram. “Big boy Kylian Mbappe lying here while I feed him soup because he’s got a little cold he can’t handle.” Kylian reaches up to grab your phone but you leap from the sofa to the other side of the coffee table.

“Y/N, turn it off.”

“Oh look,” you say into the camera. “Suddenly he has the energy to get up. You should’ve seen him merely a few seconds ago guys, acting as though he had the plague.”

“Y/N, I’m warning you.”

You laugh as you read some of the comments from the fans on your live, getting louder as you see one from his teammate.

“Ky, Achraf said stop being such a pussy!”

“That’s it!” Kylian says before leaping over the table, but you’re a tad quicker than he is, dodging his lunge and making a break for it into the kitchen. “Cut the live Y/N, or I swear-“

“Or what?” You taunt, flipping the camera so it’s facing him as he stares you down from the other end of the island in the middle of the kitchen. You quickly slip through the door and up the steps before he can reach you, but Kylian proves himself to be one of the fastest men in the world once again because he’s grabbing onto your shirt just as you reach the top of the steps pulling you to the floor, his full weight on top of you as you raise your arm as high as you can out of his reach.

“Okay guys, I have to go, it’s time to feed baby Kyky his cough syrup.” You say just as Kylian grabs the phone out of your hand and turns it off.

“Looks like you’re suddenly feeling better hmm?” You tease, laughing.

“You…” He starts but his sentence trails and he pulls the blanket over his mouth before sneezing into it loudly. He sniffs, rolling over so he’s lying next to you, wheezing and breathless. “You’re so lucky I’m ill. Once this cold is gone, you’re dead.”

———

Tried to make it a bit fluffy, I feel like it probably wasn’t that fluffy aksjsksk enjoy ! <3

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

The Jackass Guys Taking Care of You while you’re Sick HCs!

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader, Chris Pontius X Fem!Reader, Steve-O X Fem!Reader, Bam Margera X Fem!Reader, Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of illness, pet names (ie. darlin’), alcohol

An: While writing this, I was actually bed bound for two days to to a nasty respiratory illness, so I think you could guess where my inspiration came from XD Ironically enough, in between writing this and coming out I got sick again. Boy, what an immune system I have! I get sick frequently and one thing I can always count on making me feel better is writing about the guys :)

You had no appetite, you could barely leave your bed, and you had a temperature of 101.9. Yep, with how sick you were, there was no way you’d be able to go to work.

So you called your boyfriend to help take care of you

Johnny

“Oh, darlin’…”

You were in sore shape, and like the amazing boyfriend he was, Johnny went to helping you feel better right away!

Really, he missed his calling as a doctor or nurse with how sweet and considerate he is to you

Helping you out of bed if you’re weak on your feet and to the shower, assuring you how much better you’ll feel after you get a lil’ steam in your system <3

And after you get out, he’d sit behind you and gently comb/brush our hair for you, no matter how many times you mumbled to him that yes, you were sick, but you could take care of your basic needs yourself

But you secretly enjoyed being babied by him

If you couldn’t stomach much, he’d bring you some warm tea and fruit with a kiss on the forehead before he went to set up the humidifier

When Robitussin and NyQuill weren’t making a dent in your fever, Johnny got a little creative,

“If it doesn’t make you better, you’ll forget you were sick in the first place!” He explained, handing you the mug of hot water, lemon, and a splash of bourbon

A hot toddy, he told you it was called, something his mama used to give him when he was sick at home

And that thing worked.

Your eyes were falling close as you murmured, half asleep already,

“Thank you, Dr. Knoxville…”

Bam

“You look like shit.”

Lack of bedside manner aside, he is probably the last person you want taking care of you while you’re sick.

“Well thanks, Bam- I feel like shit.”

Feeling a little bad for you he asked if you needed anything

So you asked for something to eat- maybe soup and warm tea?

But all you received was an uncrustqble (which you bought because bam doesn’t like the crusts on his sandwiches) and a bottle of water lobbed onto your bed from the doorway.

“D’you think you could grab me some tissues too?”

With a groan, Bam disappeared into the bathroom before you heard all this thudding and an exasperated, “Fuck!”

Before he emerged with a roll of toilet paper.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t Florence Nightingale, but he did what you asked and you honestly didn’t even expect this much from him

He mumbled, disticnt affectionate tone in his voice as a smile crept onto his face as he walked by your bedside to ruffle your hair a little,

“You’re a real pain in the ass, Y/N.”

Chris

“Time for your sponge bath!”

Chris is a firm believer in the fact that laughter is the best medicine

So that’s why he walked into your room wearing one of those sexy nurse outfits.

And while you appreciated the sentiment, you didn’t really need the sponge bath

You also didn’t need the rectal thermometer he proudly offered to you,

“Time to take your temperature! Roll over!” He chuckled that sweet stoner laugh of his, “Kidding, kidding- it’s one’a the normal ones.”

Or when Chris pretended to “accidentally” drop said thermometer next to your bed and bend over to pick it up with his ass in full veiw.

Soon, you began to recognize the click clack of cherry red high heels as the sounds of Nurse Pontius,

And you’d come to anticipate his spectacular bedside manner ;)

In fact, this whole ordeal just left you more endeared to him

Yes, even when he asked to warm your boobies up because in his words, they looked really cold.

“You know, your probably the best nurse I’ve ever had.”

Steve-O

“What’s goin’ on?”

He stumbled into your room, having kind of forgotten why you called him,

Steve isn’t so much of a caregiver as he is a heating pad

But damn it if he isn’t a good heating pad

He’d just walk into the room and lay down next to you, all warm and cozy- a heaven for your shivering, sick body

Despite how nice it felt to cling to him, he isn’t much help besides that given the fact he fell asleep five minutes ago (not that you noticed)

“Hey, do you think you could grab me some-“ Yep. Out cold

So you had to tear yourself from the comfort of your bed to make yourself soup

And when you return, all shivering as you slip back under the covers,

Of course that’s when he wakes up.

You had already started eating when Steve took the bowl from where it was resting on your lap to steal a few bites himself

When you pointed out that he just used the same spoon you did (and would probably get sick too), he just shrugged,

“So what? I don’t care.”

Ryan

“Are you dead yet?”

While there was an unmistakeable tone of sarcasm in Ryan’s voice, he really was concerned

Out of all the guys, he would be the one to get worried sick (no pun intended) about his ill girlfriend :(

But he played it off well, saying that he didn’t have anything to do that weekend despite canceling plans with Bam to look over you

So he might as well sit by your bedside to make sure you’re okay!

Or that he just conveniently rented all of your favorite movies because he wanted to watch them, but you’re free to join him if you wanna watch

And, despite your warnings that you’ll get him sick, he’d have no problem with laying down next to you if you can’t sleep

Because that’s what the two of you usually do! No reason to break routine because of a stupid cold.

“C’mon! With you shiverin’ like that, how could I not? It’s like seein’ a kitten out in the rain…”

[windmaedchen-oceanhorn]

Taking Care Of You

Summary: Valen's falling ill and the Heroic Order uses the situation to find out what secret the Knight has at home - you.

Tags: Valen x Reader / GN Reader / fluff

For @afktales - writing is not my forte but when your head bursts with some ideas it's gotta go onto paper one way or the other... xD

===================

Valen sank heavily down onto the old sofa standing in the entry hall of the Heroic Order. He felt dreadful, with heavy eyelids and a dull aching in his head whenever he moved. He clearly came down with a cold and he could no longer hide it.

"Are you dying?" Joey stepped up to him. His teasing tone was quickly accompanied by sincere concern for his colleague's situation as he bend down to observe Valen more closely.

The knight looked up with a smirk, gently waving the notion aside. "I shall never perish by anything my sword cannot touch. But … I admit, I am not fully alive either right now." The smirk gave way to a more tired smile of resignation against the forces of nature against him. Valen sighed. "It isn't busy, is it? I sure hope I don't have to get up again anytime soon."

The archer nodded. "It has been quiet, but things can change quickly. Shall I ask the General to dismiss you before that happens?"

Valen sank even deeper into the cushions of the sofa. He wasn't really the kind to lay aside his duty for small inconveniences such as temporary light illness, so he took a moment to consider. Joey, however, stopped him in his thoughts straight away.

"Never mind my question, it is a yes, so don't move until I am back."

"Huh, but I didn't… say anything…", Valen protested but Joey had already turned and walked towards the office door. General Hogan was busy catching up on some reports and would be able to respond straight away. With another sigh Valen folded his arms to hide the slight shiver running through his aching body. Torn between his sworn duty to serve and the soothing call of home, he placed the decision into the hands of the General.

Just when he began to wonder what might take them so long, they both emerged from the office. Valen tried to sit up to properly greet the General, but a raised hand stopped his endeavour.

"General?"

"You really do not look good today, Valen.", Hogan sighed after a moment of careful observation. "I do appreciate all your efforts, but you should not push yourself when it is not neccessary. I have enough men to cover your duty today AND tomorrow. You are dismissed."

"Yes, General. Thank you. I… appreciate it." Valen raised his fist to his heart in both greeting and gratitude. But when he tried to get up, the General stopped him with outstretched hand once more.

"Hold on. You look even worse when you try to move. It is best that you do not go home alone. In fact, I shall have you be picked up. Joey!"

While Valen's tired body sank back into the soft sofa, his mind protested. "Wait, what? Why do I have to be picked up? I can go home alone!"

"No, you won't. My orders. Joey, you know where he lives, right? Do go there and ask for assistance."

"Yes, General." Joey saluted with a sly smile. His gaze quickly flashed over to his protesting sick colleague, but then he turned and left.

"General, there really is no need to do this." Valen tried to get up this time but General Hogan just pushed him back into the seat.

"Valen. Your well-being is a great concern to me. You will stay here and wait, for I am certain there will be someone to take you home. Or am I mistaken?"

The stare of General Hogan penetrated deep into Valen's soul. He knew. They probably all knew and it looks like Valen could no longer hide his secret. Resignated Valen looked up at his superior, nodding. "No, you're not mistaken. You just want to know who's there, don't you?"

The General crossed his arms, mildly patronizing Valen. "So I do. In fact, I would have liked to know much sooner. Not just for regulation's sake."

"Ah, my apologies. It'll be a yes, but I still need to formally… propose, so relax. And what that's regulation there for anyways? But you will be the first to know when we've settled on a date, I promise." Valen showed both his hands to appease his superior.

Hogan uncrossed his arms, humming in approval. "Is it who I think it is?"

Valen nodded. "Yeah."

The old soldier didn't say anything more. But his expression showed Valen that he was glad to hear so. The General then turned to uywin, who had been observing the scene nearby and asked him to stand by the sick knight's side.

As General Hogen departed Valen leaned back, tilting his head to rest on the sofa. He closed his eyes as his thoughts turned to you. After what felt like years of knowing you and months of agony, he finally could hold you in his arms. All the things you went through and what he endured, to the final moments of saving you and taking you home… it all came flushing through his drowsy mind. The memory of your warm embrace soothed his shivers. You intended to keep things secret until you could officially announce your engagement, but it looks like Valen's colleagues didn't want to wait that long. In Hogan's case, understandable, as it was him who provided some support when Valen felt worst. Now that the General was forcing the matter himself, he actually felt a little guilty for not having shared this news with him sooner. Maybe he should invite him over for dinner some time. Either way, you'd shortly be showing up right here in front of him and even though the idea that he'd be taken home resting lightly on your shoulders like a (love)sick fool felt like an embarrassment, he also couldn't wait to show off how beautiful, charming and caring you were.

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

When you heard the heavy footsteps on the steps and corridor outside the small flat, your first thought turned to Valen returning. You put down the shirts you just folded and stepped up close to the door, ready to greet your knight appropriately. The knock on the door wasn't like him, however, and in sudden confusion you just voiced a careful "Yes?".

"Joey, from the Heroic Order", came the voice from the other side. "I have a message from General Hogan."

A message from the General? That could only be for Valen but was he not at work? Before you started worrying about that, however, you did mind the gentlemen in front of your home and quickly opened the door. "I am sorry, but Valen should be at work."

The imperial archer immediately bowed to greet you. "The message is for you. Valen has fallen ill and the General requested that he is picked up so that he may return home safely."

"Oh. Is that it?" You straightened up in relief. You knew you could have imagined much worse than that. Still, was he so ill he couldn't come home alone? "Where is he now?"

"At the Heroic Order. It will be my pleasure to escort you there. Please be assured that he is still strong enough to return with you here."

"That is a relief. Thanks for coming to get me. I'll join you right away". You grabbed your small bag from the hook next to the door and slipped into your shoes. Confusion took hold of you, however, so when you joined Joey in the hallway, you couldn't resist asking. "Sir Joey, why didn't you bring him yourself?"

Joey gave a apologetic smile. "It was the General's orders. He wants to personally make sure that Valen is taken care off. But with all the work to be done, he could not leave himself."

"I see. Of course, he couldn't, so he send you."

For a moment you walked silently next to the archer. It still didn't properly explain why Joey couldn't have dropped Valen off. Maybe he was so ill that he needed a 24-hour support? But then, why not take him to the infirmary? And how did the Heroic Order know about you in the first place? Valen had assured you just a few days ago that he never said a word. Then again, in the same breath, he had mentioned how they joked he might have a sweetheart … in which case… is this just a ruse to lure you out? You clutched your bag. You were hardly prepared to meet his colleagues and even less, General Hogan. Not that you weren't ready to expose yourself to the world, your dress was neat and clean and your hair taken care off. But first impressions are crucial and regardless of the situation, you worried you might be a reason for your knight to be embarrassed.

Hesitantly you turned to Joey. Just to be sure what kind of situation you were truly in, you dared to ask. "May I request an honest response? Has Valen really fallen ill?"

Joey slowed his steps and shared a gentle smile with you. "Yes, he truly is in a sorry state. I am certain, however, that with rest and your care he will fully recover. Why?"

"Has Valen requested me?" You kept your eyes set on Joey's. He held his gaze for a moment, but then dropped his shoulders and tilted his head.

"No, he did not."

You return the archer's answer with a nod and smile, you even let out a compassionate chuckle. Your reaction visibly confused him as he stopped walking. That's how it is, then. They may be taking advantage of the situation but their curiosity about their colleague's private life fills you with warmth.

"I am sorry for my reaction. It is quite alright, I assure you. May I know, how did you know you would find me at his home?"

Trying to make up for the Order's little trickery, Joey was quick to answer your question. "He stopped going out so often, or left home early from the tavern. There is also the noticable lack of engagement in certain conversations with certain people, that led us to conclude he must have gotten entangled with someone special. Besides, his mood has never been better."

Yes, that you could fully understand. Being with Valen had caused nothing but happiness for both of you, regardless of the strains from the time prior. "I am glad to hear it. Even more so if that happiness extends to his workplace and his colleagues. Thank you so much for standing by his side."

Joey placed his fist on his chest and bowed slightly again. "Thank you, it is a pleasure and privilege to work with him. He is blessed to have you by his side."

A blush reddend your cheeks. You always thought you were the blessed one to have been found by Valen. Hearing that he is the blessed one, underlines your efforts to support and enable the knight doing his work.

"I think we are both blessed to have each other," you responded. "Let's keep going. We better not leave him waiting."

You continued to walk towards the Heroic Order. It wasn't far and after another couple of minutes you entered the building. Joey pointed directly to the sofa on which Valen seemed to have dozed off. The archer then excused himself to get the General.

You greeted Guywin with a gentle smile and nod. He returned the smile and gestured you to approach his ill colleague.

"Valen. Are you alright?" You bent down a little to grab the hand on his lap. The knight immediately squeezed your hand gently in return and slowly opened his eyes. He looked tired and there was a slight sheen to his eyes.

"Hey. I think I'll live. Barely."

You chuckled. "Please live more than just barely, hm? I don't know what to tell General Hogan if I return only half a man."

Valen visibly collected some strength and with a moan he sat up properly. He still held your hand and now pressed it gently against his face. "Don't worry. As long as you're with me, you'll only have to give reports about a truly whole man."

"I hope so." You placed your other hand over Valen's, reassuring him that you would take gentle care of him in the coming days.

The heavy steps and slight clinking of armour next to you drew your attention. General Hogan came to a halt just when you looked over. He stretched out his hand towards you.

"Hogan, General of the Heroic Order and Magistrate of Holistone. Who's care do I have the pleasure of entrusting Valen to?"

Valen had pointed him out to you from afar before and you knew the General, the Bastion of the Lightbearer Empire, also from the many stories told about him. He was a man to inspire lives, but now that his massive figure stood before you, you couldn't help but feel even more impressed than you thought you'd ever be and when you gave him your small hand to shake, his gentle grip surprised you pleasantly.

"[Your name], I am honoured to meet you, General."

"So am I." He then looked over at the ill knight. "Valen hasn't been feeling well and I have given him permission to recover. If he does need more time, please do come and let me know. I expect him to be in full health upon his return."

Your gaze settled on Valen sitting in front of you. "Of course, I will make an exception and spoil him particularly well to make sure he recovers as quick as possible."

"Really?", Valen intercepted, "Do I get eggs in mustard? A foot massage? Drink delivery? You'll polish my armour?" While he made his requests he shook your hand in anticipation like a young child.

"Yes, yes, no, you'll have tea and no, Valen, I can't even lift that thing without your help. If you are that excited still, maybe I should help you move to the office rather than take you home."

In a flash Valen's smile was replaced by a playful frown and he leaned his head heavily against you, pulling on your hand, shaking all of you. "No, no, a bed would do really nicely now, forget the armour or the drink, let's just go home."

"Yes, maybe that would be best, you better get the boy home," remarked General Hogan with a chuckle as he observed Valen's silly display.

"Come on…" You lifted Valen's hand onto your shoulder and reached then around his torso, dragging him up a bit. He moaned loudly as he followed your cue and stood up. He wrapped his arm fully around you. He didn't really need the support but this was the best excuse to touch you while being in the company of his colleagues, so he took it. He then turned to the others.

"Alright, back home it is. Thanks again, General. I shall be back as soon as I can. Joey, Guywin." He lifted his fist up to his heart, as did they. Valen's colleagues wished him a fast recovery and shortly after you and Valen were on your way back home.

"Really no help with the armour?", he carefully asked.

You chuckled. "Not with that one, no. I am better at making those mustard eggs. But I am happy to help you out of any restrictive clothing in a minute. Just so you may rest better, mind you."

Valen sighed deeply. "Yeah, I know. It's still heaven when you handle me, though. Let me stay at home at least long enough so I can handle you, too, before going back to work."

"Once you are well enough. But then, very very gladly."

--------

That you came down with a cold a few days later came as no surprise. But it was well worth it, after having had the pleasure to take care of the man you loved so much during his time of need.

[uwingdispatch]

Wayward Evenings

Notes: Ezra Bridger/Reader, established relationship, gender neutral reader, post-rebellion/post-war, hurt/comfort, chronically ill/disabled reader

CW: alcohol consumption, the aftermath of alcohol consumption, implied sexual intimacy

Ao3 Link

★★★★★★★★

You hadn’t expected to spend your evening holding your husband’s hair back in the refresher. In fact, you’d had other plans. But when Hondo was in town…you’d learned to expect this kind of thing. Perhaps it was your mistake to try and do tonight any other way, but you’re still annoyed that Ezra is just so…Ezra when it comes to the former pirate. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” you tell him. Ezra is leaning against a cabinet on the floor doing his best to stay upright. Despite your irritation, you’re right there with him, smoothing his sweat-slicked hair away from his face. “Every time,” you say. “It’s like you’re incapable of making good decisions around that man.”

“I think you’re onto something there, sunshine,” he says. “But can we talk about it tomorrow? I feel like I’m going to die right now.”

You let out a deep sigh. “Sure,” you say. “If you promise to never drink pirate moonshine again.”

“It was made on Batuu, so technically it’s moons-shine.”

“You know what? I’m just going to leave.”  You have no intention of leaving.

“I’ll never touch that shit again,” he says. “For you, of course.” And then wretches again. 

An hour ago someone at the cantina had called you to come get your idiot husband. They normally would have called Sabine—she was more physically capable of dragging Ezra out of a bar and throwing him into a speeder—but she’s been off planet for the past few weeks and that left you and your droid to come coax Ezra out of the building and get him home. 

“I know you had plans,” he says. “I’m so sorry,”

“Too drunk to stand up,” you say, “before the sun’s even fully set!”

“I guess I was just feeling ambitious.”

“When they called me to come get you they were worried you were going to try and fight a Dowutin. Over an insult to Hondo’s ‘honor.’”

“I would never actually—” 

“If you weren’t who you are you might have gotten arrested.”

“I know.” 

“Ezra, I love you, but I really don’t love this.” 

Even still, you’re rubbing his back, holding him steady. There are people you meet at a certain age and somehow, whenever they’re around, you become that age again. You understand this. It just doesn’t make your current predicament any less frustrating..

C2-B35 rolls in grumbling and hands you fresh towels, which you pass off to Ezra, who seems to be regaining his balance as he stands, the nausea abating.

“I think the worst is over, Cee,” Ezra says.

Ceetoo, being a therapy droid ultimately concerned with your wellbeing, chirps and whirrs—a curse-ridden message for Ezra that you don’t bother acknowledging. Because despite her vitriol, the little astromech has been monitoring his vitals since the two of you picked him up earlier. 

“Get cleaned up,” you say. “Is there anything you need?”

“You’re too good to me,” he says. “But all I need is you.”

In the kitchen, inhaling a bowl of leftover pasta, you remind yourself that this is not a regular occurrence. You hear the shower running and feel a bit of relief knowing you’ve moved on to the part of the evening where Ezra can take care of himself. Which means the vomiting is over. And given how much of that had gone on earlier, you’re pretty sure he meant it when he said he’d swear off Hondo’s moonshine.

When he emerges he’s wearing just a pair of gray lounge pants and a soft red robe—yours—left open. 

Ceetoo is nearby watering her plants and in a series of beeps and whistles she asks if she needs to still be monitoring Ezra. 

“I’m good, Cee,” he says. “I just need to rest. And make up for…all of this.”

He slips his arms around your waist and nuzzles your neck before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. 

“Feeling better?” you ask.

“Eh…mostly.”

“Still a little drunk?”

“A little.”

You take his face in your hand, brushing your thumb over his cheek before tucking a few wayward curls, still wet from the shower, behind his ear. He leans in as if to kiss you and you stop him. “Not before you drink that water,” you say, pointing to a large glass on the kitchen counter. “All of it.”

“And then?”

You shrug.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sunshine,” he says, his voice low, his lips almost touching your ear.

You reply: “I know.”  

***

You’d been dating Ezra for six months when you first met Hondo. Ezra had described the old Weequay as “kind of like an uncle, but not the kind of uncle you call in an emergency…unless it’s like a real emergency, he’ll show up for that.”

And after a night out with Ezra’s “uncle” you wondered if you really knew who you were dating. It wasn’t that the liquor had changed his personality, or even that Hondo had. You just hadn’t seen this side of him before.

“I think I overdid it,” he said.

“You did.”

“I should have warned you.”

“Ezra,” you said. “I don’t know if there’s any way to warn someone that one of your dearest friends is the kind of person who thinks axe-throwing while drunk is a good idea.” 

You were walking a rather tipsy Ezra home after what you had thought would be a casual dinner with a quirky family friend. But that was not how time with Hondo would ever go. You’d threatened to leave over the whole axe-throwing throwing thing, but stayed a while when Ezra reluctantly backed down from the challenge.

“I forget that Ezra Bridger cannot hold his liquor,” Hondo had said. “I would do anything for this boy, but he would have made a terrible pirate.” 

Ezra looped his arm around your waist and sighed. “With Hondo,” Ezra said, “sometimes it feels like I can go back in time. Like…”

“Like all the time you lost while you were away didn’t happen?”

“You get it,” he said. “Of course you get it.”

“I don’t know if I get it, but I think I know what you’re saying.”

Ezra never got to go through a wild phase—not the way most people did as young adults. Hondo, however, seemed to make space for the chaotic teenager in anyone. Which maybe under other circumstances might have been fine, but Ezra’s limit was usually a pint or two of ale. Tonight there had been Correllian wine. And then shots of something that smelled like explosives.

Just outside of his house now, Ezra mumbled, “I would have been a great pirate.” 

You swiped his key card to open the front door and, as soon as he could get to it, he flopped into his bed. 

You sighed, watching Ezra struggle to take off his socks. “I’m sure you would have been legendary.”

“Legendary!” he repeated.

You got ready for bed, using the items of yours that had started to collect in the refresher. Some you’d left at Ezra’s place over the last few months. Others Ezra had bought for you, wanting you to feel welcome and at home with him. He called your name, and you went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water, knowing he’d be feeling this in the morning if he didn’t at least try to hydrate.

“Come here,” he said. “Let me hold you.”

When you joined him in bed, he pulled you toward him, undressed now, his skin warm against yours. “I don’t usually drink like this,” he said.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve seen you this intoxicated before.”

“That’s on purpose,” he said. “I can’t believe I let myself…you know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Drink the water,” you told him.

“I will,” he said. “Hey. Hey…can you look at me?”

You tuck his hair behind his ear, let your fingers trail down his neck and along his jawline. “I’ve been looking at you this whole time.”

“I’m just so glad you came out with me tonight. I know Hondo is a lot, but he’s family.”

“He’s probably not too fond of me.”

“Are you kidding? He loved you.”

“Really?”

“How could he not, sunshine?” he said. And after a pause, “Do you know how important you are to me? How much I love you?”

It was the first time either of you had said these words to the other. And you hadn’t expected to hear them as a drunken confession. “Ezra, I—”

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“It’s okay. Just…tell me again when you’re sober.”

“I will.”

He pulled you close and you rested your head on his chest, breathing deeply. He smelled of sweat and alcohol, of course. But also of him. Of a man you’d very much fallen in love with. Sometimes you thought you’d fallen in love with him the day you’d met. But you’d held those words back, wondering sometimes whether Ezra Bridger was the type to settle down. 

But now, there was something about the way he stroked your hair as he started to doze off. And when he said “I’ll tell you I love you every day for as long as you’ll have me,” tipsy or not, you believed him.

***

You’re in the kitchen brewing a fresh pot of caf when you hear Ezra stumbling down the hallway, followed by the loth-cats that had been sleeping at his feet.

“You’re never up this early,” he says.

His hair is wild, and he’s wearing a robe—his this time—and not much else. You don’t need to tell him he’s a mess. He knows. And he knows how he got here.

“There’s no Jedi trick for hangovers,” you say. “Or at least that’s what you’ve lead me to believe.”

You put a plate of eggs and two headache tablets on the table and he sits, a look of defeat in his big blue eyes.

“I’d been hoping to make you breakfast today,” he says. “I really kriffed things up last night.”

Ceetoo comes in the front door carrying a shopping bag, looks straight at Ezra and starts grumbling in binary.  

“I know,” he says. “I’m profoundly aware of this. Can you please lower your volume?”

You bring two cups of caf to the table and sit beside Ezra. A man who’s stayed up with you through countless nights when your chronic pain was at its worst. Who makes a point of bringing you your favorite tea anytime you have a particularly bad migraine. A man who, when you’d first met, lived on the opposite side of town—but when he found out how difficult your anxiety could get, he started making that long drive to you any time you were struggling and he thought he could help.

He did kriff up last night. But you can’t find it in yourself to hold it against him. “It was a rough night,” you say. “But it’s behind us.” 

Sipping his caf he says, “Thank you, love.” 

“You would do the same for me.”

“I don’t mean the breakfast. I mean, I do. But you deserve better than a grown man who can’t get his shit together for one night so you can go out with your friends.”

There’s something sheepish about him as he takes your hand, and you see the “boy” Hondo always refers to when he talks about Ezra, despite his being in his forties. 

“You have your shit remarkably together ninety-nine percent of the time, Ezra,” you say. “I can make new plans. And you were sick enough yesterday that I think that might be punishment enough.”

Ceetoo grumbles as she brings you a plate of sliced fruit. She’d happily gone to the store for you but had been less than enthusiastic about it when you told her the fruit was for Ezra—she could hold a grudge as well as any organic. But you reminded her of how many times he’d been there for the two of you, and that if you could forgive him for one ruined night, she could, too. 

As she’s leaving the kitchen she beeps and whistles: try not to barf.

Ezra laughs. “I’m so glad she doesn’t actually hate me,” he says. “Though sometimes I wonder.”

You sit in silence for a while, listening to the wind blowing a tree branch into the window outside, the birds singing in the garden. And you remember planting that garden with Ezra when you first moved into this house, how you reminded him again that you probably wouldn’t be able to help much with maintaining the garden because of your chronic pain. And he’d taken your hands and told you that he didn’t expect anything of you other than that you being in his life. That just you being here, making a home together—that was enough. He’d wiped the tears from your cheeks when you began to cry, your heart so full it was spilling over.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Better now that I’ve eaten, actually.”  

He gives your hand a squeeze before you get up to feed the two tooka cats who have gathered under the table, nipping at your feet. One you’d had when you met Ezra—the other was a three-legged stray Ezra had found living in an alley behind his work, far too friendly to be a street cat. You nearly trip over the little guy as you turn to put the kibble away, only to be steadied by Ezra—you hadn’t even realized he’d gotten up from the table.

“Hey,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

“I was fine,” you insist.

He smiles. “Sure.”

His grin is infectious, and soon you have your arms around his neck, unable to stifle the smile on your own face. He ghosts his fingers along your cheek, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip for a moment before leaning in to kiss you, slow and lingering.

“You can make me dinner tonight,” you tell him. 

“And in the meantime?”

You can’t imagine he’s recovered that quickly. But Ezra is always full of surprises. So when he leads you back to the bedroom you follow. He discards your clothing in the hall, piece by piece as you stumble over each other, a feeling of lightness filling you as he kisses your forehead, your nose, your neck before you tumble into bed. And when you find yourself beneath the sheets with Ezra, you’re thinking about how seamlessly he fit into your life, from the very beginning. And now, how perfectly your bodies fit together, his deft hands finding exactly where and how you love to be touched. 

He whispers in your ear: “Let me make this up to you.”  

And you melt into him, your fingers lacing into his hair as he kisses you deeper, a spark of electricity running through you as if it were the first time he’d ever kissed you. 

“You still owe me dinner,” you tell him.

“I’ll give you anything,” he says, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. “Anything you want,” he says, “it’s yours.”

And, if only because he’d never once given you a reason not to, you believe him. 

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! Once again I am here to be a gremlin about Ezra Bridger somehow growing up to be Blorbo. I hope this fic made you feel seen and loved.

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[whumpbug]

whumperless whump event day 7: accidental cryotherapy @whumperless-whump-event

this one is a bit longer than i usually write but i had so much fun writing it I LOVE THESE GUYS

falling through a frozen lake / hypothermia / “hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake."

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Simon

whumpee: Archie

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Archie really should have been used to the cold by now, considering he’d lived in the city for his entire life. Despite that, he couldn't help that it somehow seemed to catch him by surprise every year.

The snow fell gently around him, making the usually bustling streets seem just a little bit calmer. No one wanted to be out in this kind of weather, after all. He could even see his breath come in puffs every time he exhaled. It was kind of.. mesmerizing.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by a sweet voice coming from below him.

“Thank you so much son!” The little old lady he had rescued from a mugger said, while viciously shaking Archie’s hand. It was gloriously warm, a welcome contract to his numb fingertips. Still, the strength behind it was surprising for how frail the woman looked.

“Oh, it’s really no problem ma’am, none at all! Just doing my part!” He said cheerfully. “I can escort you home if you’d like—”

He was cut off by police chatter coming in through his earpiece. He listened in with a grave expression for a few moments before his jaw set in determination. There had been an accident. One involving the frozen lake in the city park.

“I’m so sorry ma’am, but I have to go, I’ll make sure one of the officers escorts you home, okay?"

“Oh that’s alright dear, you’ve been more than enough help.. you get on home and warm up, okay?” She hummed, patting Archie’s cheek.

Archie laughed a bit before setting off. He wouldn’t be warming up anytime soon, that was for sure. Still, at least that lady would be able to. That was what made the job always worth it. Someone got to go home safely now because of him, and that was enough.

Now, back to the issue at hand.

He ran the situation through his mind as he began his sprint to the city's park. Luckily the mugging had happened only a few blocks away, so he would get there before emergency services.

Apparently, a couple of high school students had been messing around by the lake and one of them had fallen in. None of the others were able to get him out and he was trapped under the ice. The kids said it had only been a few seconds before they called the police, but still, the thought of a kid losing air while simultaneously freezing to death disturbed Archie deeply. It made him run just a little bit faster.

It was actually getting rather difficult to run. Archie's Vigil suit wasn't very weather friendly, and he found himself faltering every few steps from the lack of feeling in his toes. Still, he braved the cold and soldiered on.

Eventually, 2 silhouettes came into view as Archie approached the lake. The 2 kids were scrambling at the river bank, panicked, and he could hear their argument from twenty feet back.

“You were the one who dared Henry to do it!”

“Yeah well you egged him on! You encouraged it! It's both of our faults!”

“Don’t you dare try to blame me for this!”

Archie walked right up to them, holding up a placating hand.

“I don't care who's fault it was. I need you to show me where your friend fell through. Now.” He barked. Usually. he’d take the time to calm the bystanders and reassure them that everything would be okay, but the seconds were precious and there was a kid drowning.

Both students shut up and shakily pointed to a spot about 8 feet from the river bank.

Archie sucked in a breath.

He quickly scanned the area for anything he could use, but unfortunately he was quite ill-equipped. He knew it was dangerous to go out on the ice, lest it breaks again, but it was looking more and more like it was his only option.

With a sharp exhale, he got down on all fours, then lowered himself to his belly as he began scooting across the ice towards the break. It was times like these that he was immensely grateful for his heightened vision, because he was able to see the outline of a squirming body through the ice. Good, he thought, he’s still partially conscious, at least. It's not too late.

Finally, his fingers found purchase at the edge of the ice, and not a moment too soon as his front was starting to sting from the contact with it. A shudder his frame as he inhaled deeply to steel his nerves.

In he goes.

He slipped head-first through the hole in the ice and immediately his vision when white with the sheer cold. He fought the urge to gasp. God, who knew the cold could hurt this bad. It was like every cell in his body started seizing up at once, and his head was going to explode.

He clenched his jaw and brought his focus back to the present. He didn’t have time to dwell on the pain. He had a job to do. 

He forced his eyes open, which stung viciously from the frigid water, and scanned the murk for the kid. Henry, he heard them say. He saw a limb flail from a silhouette a few feet away.

He kicked towards Henry and reached out. His stiff fingers wrapped around the thrashing arm and held it steady. Got him.

He pulled Henry tight to his body, and looked down to see wide eyes looking up at him. Despite his own compromised state, he forced himself to flash the kid a soft smile to put him at ease. Henry vaguely returned it.

He kicked up towards the surface, again, using his enhanced vision to scan for the hole they both came in through. He reached up and finally found the jagged edge of the ice. Bingo. He and the kid breached the surface with a gasp.

Archie coughed wetly as he pushed Henry up onto the ice.

Henry coughed just as violently, letting out a weak cry as he scrambled for the edge, trying desperately to pull himself up. Archie had to physically restrain his arms to keep him from breaking more ice and drowning them both.

He wanted to explain that the ice would only hold one of them, so they had to be strategic about how they got back to the bank. He tried to explain that the kids on the bank had to grab Henry’s feet and pull, but his teeth were chattering too violently to even form a word. Not to mention the bitter, unrelenting cold was all his mind could focus on. If things weren't bad already, he was treading water to hoist the kid up but his legs were rapidly losing feeling. He had to act fast.

“Pull!” he managed to shout, shoving the kid up and onto the ice. With an adrenaline-induced feat of strength, he managed to slide him across the ice and towards the bank.

Luckily, the students were able to catch on. They grabbed Henry’s ankles and dragged him to the grass, all collapsing in an exhausted and shaken heap once he was on solid ground.

The ambulance sirens rang through the night air a few moments later, and Archie vaguely felt panic bubble up within him. If the ambulance found him, they would take him to the hospital. At the hospital, they would take off his mask and people would see his face. His identity would be revealed. He couldn’t have that happen.

But he was still halfway in the freezing pond and rapidly losing sensation all throughout his limbs. He needed to get out fast.

With fleeting strength, he managed to yank himself up onto the ice as wheezing coughs wracked his body once again.

The adrenaline must have had a second wind, because he was able get himself to his hands and knees and shuffle across the ice. Once he made it to the riverbank, he hauled his himself to his numb feet and began staggering towards the trees.

He kept going until he was sure he was out of view. Those boys would never know who really saved them, but maybe it was for the better. He wouldn't want anyone to see him like this anyways.

He vacantly wondered if he should be shivering.

Things started happening in short bursts. He was so cold, and his vision was starting to blur at the edges. His suit was sopping wet and his feet were completely numb as he trudged through the falling snow. Suddenly, his foot caught on a divot in the ground and it sent him unceremoniously crashing to his knees. He couldn't even register the pain of the bones knocking against the pavement.

His entire body was numb. He wasn’t shivering. Snow was falling on him and stayed perfectly intact, not even beginning to melt.

He knew, in the back of his mind, that this was bad. Very bad. Needed-to-call-someone-or-he’d-die kind of bad.

It took great mental effort, but he somehow pulled out his phone and watched as it nearly slipped from his clumsy hands. He wasn’t even registering the feeling of the phone in his hand at this point. This confused him.

It was painfully slow, but he managed to open Simons contact. If anyone knew how to help him, it would be Simon. Simon was always there for him. He was steadfast and warm. Yeah, Simon could help him.

He tapped out a message that simply read, “cold. help” before letting his phone fall to the ground.

He sank to his knees and hugged his arms close to his body, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. Everything was viciously numb and he felt himself blink dizzily. His mind suddenly felt as if it was moving through molasses.

..What was he doing out here again?

Oh right. Highschoolers. Frozen lake. That was stupid of them. He remembered his mother's voice telling him to stay away from the edge of the riverbank when he was a kid.

He distantly wondered if their mother's told them the same thing.

He missed his mom. She would always make him hot cocoa and puff warm air on his hands and fluff his blankets in the drier when he came in from playing in the snow.

Why wasn't she here now?

Was anyone coming for him?

Was he going to freeze to death in this park? Alone and scared?

He was starting to regret hiding from the paramedics.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, mind a million miles away, but suddenly, he heard the rapid crunching of snow in front of him. He wanted to look up, he really did, but he found his muscles wouldn’t respond to his demand. He must have been dreaming.

“Archie! There you are!” Simon breathed, kneeling beside his friend. "Shit.."

Simon fumbled with his gloves, but eventually worked his hand out and pressed his fingers to Archie’s neck to gauge his pulse. He nearly gasped at how cold the skin beneath them were. He gently lifted his face to get a better look at him. His pulse was there, but it was alarmingly weak.

His lips were sickly blue and his eyes were hazy and unfocused. He didn’t’ even seem to recognize Simon right in front of him. The worst part, though, was the eery stillness. Archie was too silent and too unmoving. Simon needed to get him shivering and quick.

Simon brushed his fingers across Archie’s cheek, to which Archie let out a pained gasp and recoiled away.

“Burns..” He slurred, letting his head loll to the side.

“You’re just frozen, Archie..” Simon muttered, shrugging off his own coat and buttoning it around Archie’s limp form. He chafed up and down his arms, attempting to coax warmth into his frozen friend.

“We need to get you to my apartment.. can you walk?”

“Simon..” He finally whimpered, blinking blearily at the other. Simon could have sworn he saw a glint of desperation in Archie's eyes.

“Right, stupid question. Onto plan B,” He huffed, hooking his arms under Archie's legs and around his shoulders. He let out a stifled gasp at just how cold he really was.

As soon as they were in the car, Simon blasted the heat as high as it would go, and he still saw no improvement in Archie’s condition. On the contrary, Archie just seemed to grow even more drowsy. Simon gently shook Archie’s knee, hoping to get him to stir.

“Hey, c’mon.. you gotta stay awake.. at least until we’re home..” He pleaded, speeding up the car just a bit.

Archie gave a wet cough and let his head fall forward, still seemingly unaware of his surroundings.

“We’re almost home.. I promise..”

Once the car was parked, Simon made quick work of carrying Archie up the stairs and getting him situated on the couch. He helped him peel off the wet clothes, and then covered him with mounds and mounds of blankets. He then plugged in every space heater he owned, safety concerns be damned, and pointed them right at the heap of bedding. 

He recalled everything he had ever learned about treating hypothermia.

Bring out of the cold. Check.

Remove wet clothing. Check.

Insulate with blankets and towels. Check.

Apply warm compresses.

Right.

Simon jogged to his closet in the hallway and rummaged around before finding some old hot water bottles. They were a bit rudimentary, but they would have to do. He left Archie on the couch while he swiftly boiled water and filled them. He then wrapped them in hand towels and returned to Archie with his arms full of glorious warmth.

Archie blinked up at him, and Simon noticed, with great relief, the tremors that wracked his body. They were violent and all-consuming, but at least he was shivering.

“C-Can.. can I t-take a hot ba-bath..” He slurred, looking up at Simon with pleading eyes.

The sight shattered his heart into a million pieces. Simon sighed softly.

“I’m sorry.. we can’t risk you going into shock.. we’ll warm you up other ways, okay?” He murmured, carefully peeling back the layers of blankets.

At that, Archie gave another intense shudder as his pale skin was exposed to the air. A soft cry escaped his lips as he instinctively curled in on himself.

“H-Hurts..” He whimpered, clawing at the blankets.

“I know, I know..” Simon whispered, leaning over to place a heat pack on Archie's chest. He then laid one on his neck and groin and replaced the blankets around him.

"There.. that should help you feel a bit warmer," Simon explained softly, giving Archie another once-over.

The shivering only got more vicious as Archie seized up with every small movement. His teeth were chattering violently and the force of the trembling even shook the couch.

“S-Simon.. Simon I’m so cold.. c-can’t.. can’t take it,” He sobbed, trying to sink further into the fabric around him.

Simon felt his heart shatter even more. He’d seen Archie come back from having a building collapse on him, and he still didn’t look as pitiful as he did now. Even though he was more lucid now, his eyes still had that far-away look at made Simon just want to hold him close and tell him he'd be alright.

So he did.

He vaguely remembered hearing in one of his classes that body heat could be effective at warming someone up and.. well, no time like the present.

Simon lifted the covers and carefully slid in beside Archie, getting himself settled before turning towards him and opening his arms.

“C’mere.. this will help..” He muttered, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feign annoyance. Not when Archie was looking at him like he just told him he’d won the lottery.

Archie immediately latched himself onto Simon’s side, and now Simon could really feel how much Archie was shaking. His entire frame was convulsing with ferocious shakes that had to hurt. Archie would definitely be feeling it in the morning.

Still, Simon wrapped his arms around Archie and drew him closer. He gently smoothed a hand up and down Archie’s back in an attempt to soothe him, and if the way Archie leaned into it was any indicator, it was working.

After a while of comfortable silence, save for the soft chattering of Archie’s teeth, the shivers finally began to ease up. They were still there and rather exhausting no doubt, but they weren’t so intense anymore.

Simon thought of his mental checklist again, and recalled something about a warm drink to help with the chills. He'd been laying with Archie long enough, and surely he would appreciate a steaming cup of chamomile.

Simon moved to get up, easing Archie off his arm, to which Archie let out a panicked yelp and all but yanked him back down.

“Woah! I’m just gonna go get you some tea! It’ll help! I promise!” Simon pleaded, huffing a soft laugh.

“No! No.. p-please just.. just stay for a f-few more minutes..” Archie begged, weakly grasping at Simon’s sweater.

Simon playfully rolled his eyes and leaned back, letting Archie snuggle right back up to him.

“Alright.. just a few more minutes..”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[saey707]

Crazy in Love

✿ Prompt: You're the only one on Kayn's mind ✿

♡ champion focus: kayn ♡ tw: mental illness ♡ Fem reader

Author's Note: I felt inspired by something I wrote with my best friend a while back! Note: this piece is going to be a modern au and the reader uses she/they pronouns! (๑>؂•̀๑) Please also take into account: what I write is not an absolute and entirely accurate depiction of schizophrenia. I wanted to try and aim for how Kayn perceives the world in accordance with his lore. Hope you enjoy!

Every day, after a long and hard day at school, Kayn made it his priority to see you. As worn and tuckered out as he was mentally and emotionally, Kayn somehow always found time to meet you outside of your classroom.

You studied in 2-A, the exact opposite end from where his classroom was in the school. While it was far, Kayn didn't mind the walk, so long as he got to see your radiant, smiling face. It was the one thing he looked forward to every single day!

Roughly turning the corner at the last turn in the hallway, Kayn clamored his way down the hall, huffing for air as he stood tall, slicking his hair back with his free hand and smoothening out the front of his uniform. He wouldn't want you to think he neglects his appearance!

"Babe??" He called out looking around the empty hallway. But, seeing how you weren't outside your classroom, he began to make his way before the 2-A sliding doors.

He heaved the door open, looking around the classroom with a great, excited grin on his face... "Babe?"

Kayn noticed your absence, and his smile turned into a confused pout. How strange... You weren't outside of the classroom... And you weren't inside either. You couldn't have possibly gone home early today either! That's irregular!

Sure, it has happened a number of times... He remembered when you explained to him you had matters at home you had to take care of. Not to mention, you were a part of multiple clubs at the school so they sometimes pulled you away for emergency meetings... But even then, you made time for him like he did for you!

Consumed in his own thoughts, it wasn't until Kayn felt a tap on his shoulder did he abruptly spin around. However, as he turned, his braid nearly smacked you in the face, Kayn sheepishly smiling.

Staring down at the top of your head, Kayn knew: It was you! He always found it endearing how much shorter you were compared to him...

Then again, Kayn was pretty big, compared to all of the other students at Ionia High, but that was only because he was adopted from a foreign country.

"You're here. Where were you? I thought you had something come up today." Kayn admitted, placing both of his hands on your arms.

"Sorry, baby," You apologized with an exasperated sigh, Kayn sinking into your touch when you placed your hand on his cheek, "I went to the vending machine to get us both a drink!"

Kayn watched as you reached into your bag, revealing a bottled tea for yourself and canned coffee for him.

"Thanks, but you didn't have to get me anything... I have money you know." He pointed out, nevertheless accepting the drink when you held it out to him.

"I know! I just thought you should have something special before your dad picks you up." You informed him, Kayn clutching the can with a nod. He would be sure to save it for when he gets home!

"Okay, but tomorrow I'm buying!" He declared, chuckling when he noticed you laughing delightedly at his decision.

For the next half an hour, Kayn was content to discuss your shared plans for your next date night, allowing you to go into great detail about what you wanted to do with him. At least this would give him something to look forward to during the weekend!

And eventually, Zed arrived to pick up Kayn, pulling open the sliding door to classroom 2-A, noticing his son sitting at a desk today. He knew if it wasn't a desk, Kayn was either curled up in a corner or sitting outside the classroom.

"Kayn? Are you alright?" He asked, Kayn turning around. While it delighted Zed to see how happy his son was, at the same time, he couldn't help but feel like something was... immensely wrong.

"Dad! You're here!" Zed smiled at the boy, striding over to him and touseling the young man's hair.

"What are you doing here all alone again? I was waiting in the car for you, but you never came down..." The older man inquired cautiously, placing his hand on Kayn's shoulder.

"Oh, my girlfriend just left... I was really hoping you could meet her today, but you're too late again." Kayn rambled with a pout, standing and passing his bag to his father's open arms. Before he could forget, he plucked up the can of coffee you gifted him.

"Oh? I'm sorry. I'll get you sooner tomorrow then."

Kayn hummed, walking out of classroom 2-A alongside his adoptive father, checking his phone with his free hand to see if you sent him a message. But, when he saw nothing but a reminder for him to take his medication, he slid the reminder off his lock screen and pocketed his phone.

Zed shot a nervous glance up at his boy, Kayn beaming and looking down at his... empty hands.

"Uh... So, don't forget that you have therapy today before we go to the dojo and train." Zed interjected, noticing how the boy wasn't listening to him.

"My girlfriend got me this canned coffee today... I think you'd like her." Kayn commented, Zed tiredly exhaling. "She must be really special to you."

"Dad, are you kidding? I'm crazy about her! She's always on my mind! She gives me things to look forward to and... I just feel so much better with her around..."

"You know you'd feel better if you took your medication..." Zed retorted, Kayn huffing and crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Yeah, but she's real. The both of us are real."

With how happy Kayn seemed, Zed really wished you were real.

[intosnarkness]

So my cat died today.

(tw:pet illness, death)

idk I might try and write the whole story later, but 15 years is a lot to try and boil down. (NB, I got him when he was 2, which you might have figured out because he was 17.)

But long story short, in February of 22 I was in Florida setting up an expo for work when the vet called me. Nat had taken the boys for a dental cleaning, and Peri lost like, a pound in a few weeks.

I was 900 miles away and could do nothing as they did scans and blood tests and I hid behind a shipping crate and cried.

They found a mass in his stomach and he's been on steroids since. We didn't know what it was, because I didn't want to do the exploratory on a cat his age. The vet agreed. I thought at the time that I had 3 months left. I got 18.

Recently Pman has had less appetite. This came to a head on Wednesday when I got home from work to feed the cats and he didn't come when I opened the can. He was also leaving more and more food uneaten.

I called the vet yesterday but it didn't feel emergent so when i got voicemail I gave up. Called again around 11 this morning and they asked me to bring him in ASAP. I had a Feeling then that today was going to end with a cremation.

Nat was headed home early from work because they're doing construction on his building and he was Done so I called and asked him to take Peri in. He agreed.

When he got to the house, Peri had found a bobbin for embroidery floss at some point between when I left at 7:45am and when he got home at 11:45am and eaten the thread off of it.

Nat called me and I just.. left. I just got up and left work and called the people I needed to call from the car to tell them I had a pet emergency and was leaving for the day. Nat and I met at the vet.

The issues came down to this:

When a cat eats string, your concern is it being in the intestine. If you pull on the string you can tear the intestine with the pressure. If you don't know how long it's been, you need to scope the cat or do exploratory surgery.

Our vet did not have anyone to scope the cat. They called every other vet in town, apparently. Time ticked by. They found one about 40 minutes away.

At this point it was close to 1:30. In the best scenario, it had been at least 2 hours since the thread entered his system. It would be another hour before we could get the scope in him. I kept saying to Nat, as we sat and waited, that there was no world where it wasn't in the intestine by the time we got him there. This is when I started to really fucking lose it.

If the string was in the intestine, they were going to have to do exploratory abdominal surgery on a 17-year-old cat to get it out. I remember what his recovery was like when he was 3 and did this. I was not sure it was fair to do that to a cat as old as him. I was pretty sure I had murdered my best friend with embroidery floss, which is going to be funny in retrospect but right now it isn't.

I know Peri has eaten string before. I remember the night he did it in the Laurel apartment like it was yesterday. I was usually vigilant about not leaving shit around for him to eat. The number of times I nagged Nat about spools of thread, or shoelaces, or twist ties. I looked at that bobbin yesterday and thought "I should put that away before Peri gets at it." I did not put it away. I was starting to convince myself that I killed my cat. That this whole thing was my fault. Poor Nat sitting next to me in this vet room. He is not an affectionate person. He does not touch. I doubt we have ever hugged. Here we are, and I'm holding my cat and crying. He mustered up all his courage and touched my shoulder. We stan one emotionally unavailable roommate.

As it turned out, it didn't matter. The x-ray revealed that the mass in his stomach had moved to his chest. His lungs were scalloped around the edges and there was fluid around his heart.

Nat and I both cried and killed an entire box of tissues. Peri let me hold him and he even gave us some moops. The vet told me to just keep talking. And the only thing I remember saying was that he had been such a good mommy to those ferals we fostered because he did such a good job of raising me, first.

So best boy, lover of Popsicle sticks, Wrong Tail haver, spottiest cat and cattiest spot, Peri Pants McGee, the Periman, Pman, Mr. Mooperman, and any other name I called him over the last 15 years was the best cat that most of you never got to meet.

His favorite thing in the world was when I put a blanket over my legs and then he laid on the blanket. He liked to lick my toes and ankles, which was the worst. He was a very good reason to stay alive on certain days when that didn't seem to be a priority. He was my best friend, and I love him.

[hysteric-machine]

Spoilers for the new Reverse 1999 chapters

TW Psychophobia, Torture, Intergenerational trauma?, Suicide Attempts...

Now started playing the new story chapters of Reverse 1999. And while I KNEW what I was going to go through, the instant I saw Isolde tied up on the electric chair... I reminded.

I reminded what it did to me as a mentally ill kid to play Alice Madness Returns. What it did to me when I watched Penny Dreadful as a young adult. So I paused. To talk about it.

I am one of the lucky ones. I never had go to a psychiatric ward (my parents tried to get me there after my first suicide attempt, but it was an adult only service, and as a 16 years old I wasn't old enough to enter, luckily my mom was there to attend to me all summer since she worked from home).

I did suffer the stigma, in many ways, but I did not suffer the medical abuse to a no return point extent. Of course the abuse in general is still terrible, but I got lucky. Some friends did not. Someone you know surely got through that. Everyone knows someone broken by psychiatric institutions. And a lot of these unlucky individuals did not recover, and sometimes died from this abuse.

We can argue that it's much better now, that there isn't torture anymore (that's a lie, getting tied down is torture, getting isolated is torture, and I won't start talking about how close to prisons psychiatric wards are, and yes I hate the reality of prisons too).

We can argue about all of this.

But we are still counting our dead. Mourning people that were not helped, not cured, but drowned even further into despair and left in shreds.

And my body knows, when I watch these pieces of fiction, when I read the history of how our condition were "studied", how the DSM got written. I feel an overwhelming and unspeakable fear. Because I know, it's me on the screen. It's my story. It could've been my exact story.

It has been the story of many unluckiest, unprivileged people (at this point I have to mention that of course, it is not just pure luck : if you aren't white, if you're lgbtq+, if a woman, you're particularly poor, if you're from a pious family, if you have commorbidities and many more can add to the list, it's going to be harder and you are the first ones on the list).

I can't ease this feeling. It's like a survival instinct. You know you don't want to ever have to go there. Even if "it can be fine sometimes", "there are some safe wards" or whatever. If you are mentally ill you just know.

So a kind reminder : always consider this when dealing with someone close to you that have mental health issues and seems to not be able to get the help they need, or sometimes are in emergency state. Please don't call the cops. Don't call the emergency services. Please don't get them to a psychiatric ward first without trying everything else, especially if they aren't ok with going there. It is, in and of itself a traumatic experience to live, and even the less abusive institution ARE abusive because psychiatry's history is what it is. It's not because some privileged people got out of there unharmed (and again I can't agree with that) that everyone would.

Anyway, it's all over the place, I can't find a good way to word this, because there is no good way to word that I'm terrified by all that shit, with reason.

Take care of yourself, of your loved ones. You can't change the world, and it is designed in a way that we still have very few alternatives to psychiatry nowadays, so you can't really avoid it all together. Just know that it's not only fiction and incredibly triggering for some of us.

Cheers. If you can relate and wish to read the new Reverse content maybe take your time to be ready, not alone, in a good mindset.

[endereies]

Fuck it - Matt Sturniolo - Part 4

Spotify playlist:

Summary: Fem!oc x Matt Sturniolo

Growing up with parents who make her feel isolated, what happens when she meets Matt. A person who introduces her to new people, new experiences and new feelings.

Authors notes:

This chapter is my life rn fr

Warnings: Swearing

Word count: 2879

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Is this something we are meant to do?”

“Fuck it.”

Alyia Pov:

I was sat sketching in my last period of the day, creating small doodles around the edges of the sheets I got handed only thirty minutes prior. I had attempted to go to the library to focus on my work but it had the opposite effect. I had been sat here for half an hour and spent that time doodling eyes in the corner of my work accompanies by small starts and hearts. My phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket which caused me to be dragged from the comfort of my sketches. A loud sigh escapes my lips as I bring the screen towards my face which shines in near full brightness. The top of my notification bar held a text message from Matt, sent only a minute prior.

Matt🥁:

‘hey alyia, can we work on the project at my house today rather than yours?’

I tap the border of my phone, picking in the gaps of the phone case and the metal flicking between replies in my head.

Alyia🎸:

‘yeah sure, any particular reason why?’

Matt🥁:

‘I just have some shit to do before hand and I don’t wanna go back and forth between places’

Alyia🎸:

‘alr then, send me the address and time and ill come over’

Matt🥁:

‘sweet, can you be here for 7 ish’

Alyia🎸:

‘see you at seven Matt’

I sit staring at my screen for a while, looking at the ‘online’ that lingered under Matt’s contact name. He finally leaves the chat and I follow suit to place my phone face down on the desk. I let my hands rest on the desk but my body leans back into the chair. I haven’t ever been to his house before and I was used to him coming to mine, I had no idea if his brothers or parents would be there. How they would react to me suddenly being in their house.

I didn’t get a chance to properly react or overthink due to the bell’s intrusive sound that emits from above on the library’s walls.

-

It had been an hour since I had gotten home and it was nearly time for me to leave my house if I wanted to get to his place on time. I had just finished building my outfit which wasn’t too casual but it wasn’t smart either. A long-sleeved top with a shorter-sleeved, thinner sweater onto covered a black shirt that hung just above my knee. A pair of black tights ran up my legs only being covered by some plain air forces which seemed too worse for wear. Even if the weather didn’t immediately call for it, I paired the outfit with a black jacket I purchased a few years ago. The arms of the jacket swung off the edge of the leather seat I threw it on to. I rummage through my desk drawers for my keys, vitamins, charger and any extra notes to throw into my backpack.

-

Their house looked so put together from the outside of it the designs being simplistic but appealing to look at. The car outside was one I recognised from the same parking spot at the entrance of the school which him and his brothers exited every morning. I noticed them walk towards the main entrance on my way to the music room most days.

I stand in front of their main door and I hesitate before finally hitting my knuckles onto the centre of their door making sure I avoid the blurred glass. A shadow emerges from behind that glass and I take a small step back not wanting to feel immediately intrusive.

“Hey, oh-“ my words fade when I realise Matt wasn’t the one who answered the door but instead it was a longer haired brunette.

“Alyia? Hey what’s up” he grabs a hold of the door frame and uses the rest of his weight to push the door open “Come one in”

I don’t respond right away, making note that Chris remembered my name perfectly. Either he focused on that detail when he first met me and barged into the music room, or Matt has spoken about me to his brothers often enough for them to know. As unlikely as that was.

“Chris, hi.” I take a step inside, following Chris and shutting the door behind me which he ignored and left.

“What are you doing here?”

“Matt didn’t’ tell you” I’m only met with a slight shake of his head due to a lollipop he just placed in his mouth.

“Matt wanted me to come to his house to work on the project tonight” I slide my backpack down my arm, noting the loss of friction as it gets stuck on the folds of my sweater

“Really? Kid didn’t mention that to me.” I go to respond but another voice emits before mine does.

“Chris, who was it!”

“It was Alyia, Matt has invited her over for the English shit.” Chris walks past a corner and his volume in his voice decreases, so I follow him to listen to the conversation that now included me.

“Alyia is here?” Nick turns from the sofa and rests an arm on the back as he faces me directly.

“Hey guys... uhm hate to interrupt but where can I put this?” my backpack rests in my palm, causing my wrist muscles to flex slightly and after a few seconds it starts to ache further down my arm.

“Literally anywhere at this point, we need to clean up this weekend anyway.” Nick circles his wrist in a general location of the main sitting area.

I drop my backpack and use my foot to push it further to the side, so that no one trips up over it.

“So…where is Matt?”

“In the shower upstairs, but he went in 10 minutes ago so he should be out soon” Chris speaks, keeping his gaze fixed on his phone in my hands, slumping down next to Nick harshly.

I simply nod in response and start to sit next to them, creating a small distance between us. I follow Chris’s actions and pull out my phone and go onto random apps one after another before finally scrolling on Instagram for a moment. I few minutes of awkward silence go by before a loud voice echoes from up the stairs.

“Yo Nick, have you seen my pink shirt, the one with the bear on it?”

“Yeah, it’s on top of the table down here!” Chris yells back up to Matt upstairs.

I lift my head up from my phone, putting my attention onto the voices exchanging between each of the brothers. Footsteps approach and I see Matt walking down the stairs towards the three of us.

Traces of water track down the back of his neck from water that was adsorbed from the towel he now holds in his arms. Strands of hair cling to his forehead which appear darker, almost black. His lower body is hugged by a blue pair of plaid pyjama pants, sat on the bottom of his hips. His tattoos are clearly on show and I take this time to analyse them, noticing a few designs I hadn’t seen before. They traced around his arms and tracked the lines of his muscles alongside missed droplets of water. He brushed the strands from the front of his face backwards, parting his hair with his fingers slowly, not wanting any knots to remain. His tongue parts his lips slightly, wetting them briefly. He finally looks up from the floor and notices me sat on their sofa.

Shit.

“Alyia...hey you’re here early” He reaches the bottom of the stairs and walks towards the vibrant shirt on the table.

I swallow harshly when he turns around, his back facing me as he lifts the shirt over his head and past his shoulders. His back muscles flex as he drags it past his chest and hips

“Uh, yeah, my car is being fixed so I had to take the bus... I just took the one that wouldn’t make me late.” I rub the back of my neck, trying to calm myself down.

“I guess that’s fair. So, you wanna work on the project now?”

“Yeah, about that.” Chris mumbles and drags out his words and Matt looks at him with a confused expression.

“Why can’t we Chris.” His tone is a little harsher and his voice raises in pitch as he grows more curious.

“Well. I didn’t know Alyia was coming over for one, so I invited Nate and Madi over...”

I hear a sigh from Matt from across the room and I look up at him.

“Nate’s that hockey player in our English class, right?”

“Yeah, he is” he stops looking at me and turns to face Chris. “Did you invite them to do anything?”

“I mean yeah. I do every time, games n shit. You guys can fuck the project for one night to hang?” Chris’s demeanour has relaxed and he cross his arms over his lower stomach.

“Alyia hasn’t ever spoke to Nate and Madi is that fair?” A voice from Nick emits for the first time in a while.

I sit up and put my arms weight on my knees, slouching over. “I can always leave if you wan-“ I suddenly get interrupted by Matt and I glance up to him, his expression making him seem deep in thought.

“You could hang out with us if you wanted. It’s not like these guys know you, it could be fun to know each other more.”

“I’m so down if y’all are?” Chris faces Nick, earning an eager nod. I get a similar eagerness when Chris turns his body to me expectantly.

“If you guys don’t mind, then I’m down.”

-

A few hours had gone by and we were all sat down on the floor onto of pillows and blankets playing an intense game of monopoly. Initially I was intimated by practically 4 new people in an unfamiliar setting but once we all sat down and started talking, I got used to it. I had found out that Nate was the captain of the hockey team and that Madi was working with fashion and was in Jenny’s class. Chris’s personality filled the room whenever intense moments happened and it was fun to be around. He was a bubble of energy and it felt like Nick had to reel him back down any time he yelled too much. Which seemed to be often. Chris was being a sore lower in monopoly anytime someone had to take money for him, only to celebrate moments later when he passed go and got $200. Nate was currently winning but Nick and I weren’t fair behind him money wise. Nick was winning property wise and already set in multiple hotels down.

“Oh, come on! Again!” Chris had started to complain again which made us giggle, especially Matt as Chris once again owed him money.

“Not my fault, I own Oxford Street and so...you owe me money.” Matt holds his hand across the board in front of Chris who simply rolls his eyes and begrudgingly slaps $1100 into his hand.

It was my turn to roll the dice and a number of 4 is added between them. I grab the dog character and move it across, landing on the same square that Chris did. I sigh and flick through my money and pull out $1100 and hold it out for Matt to take.

“Damn again, Matt you’re getting lucky right now I swear” Madi giggles along with Nate and Nick but Chris still sulks at his loss of money. Matt's hand reaches forwards and grazes mine as he takes the money with a weak smile.

-

“Damn it. I’ve fucking landed on Mayfair” I see Nick slam his money down on the board. Nate just responds with laughter as he takes the money from Nick.

I had lost a while ago, having to mortgage my property after I landed on Oxford Street again, I sat to the side talking with Chris and Madi who had lost to Nate.

“Honestly I’m glad that ended, it’s getting late” Nate mumbles before yawning.

“late? How late” I quietly speak as I pull my phone off the sofa behind me and turn the screen on, the screen a little too bright now that it was dark outside. “Oh shit.”

“Hey, you okay?” Matt stands up and faces me, leaning down to reach the board to help pack it away.

“Its like eleven right now, buses are gonna be fucked.” I frown at my phone screen as I pull up my bus times for the journey home.

“You could always stay over, it’s not like we have classes tomorrow.” Chris smiles at the suggestion Nick makes, facing me with a genuine kindness.

“Really? It wouldn’t be intrusive; I mean I’ve known you for one day.”

“We've heard enough through Matt to be honest; it would be nice honestly.”

“I appreciate it, but one problem. I don’t have any spare clothes on me” I look down at the outfit questioning if it’s suitable enough to sleep in.

“I have some clothes you can borrow...” Madi finishes putting the board game away and faces me with a wide smile.

“If that doesn’t fit since she is shorter than you, I have shit you can use for the night.” Matt reaches into the cupboard to place the box onto a high shelf.

“Uhm sure. If that’s okay”

“Of course, no worries.”

-

Matt pov:

I have showed Alyia to a spare room we have across from mine and carried her things into it and placed them at the foot of the bed. We haven’t had a chance to paint or fully decorate the room apart from the bare minimum but thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind. I return back to my room while I grab a few options of clothing for her to wear overnight. One of which is the same ransom tee I wore the first time Alyia and I met. I smile briefly while walking back towards Alyia’s room.

“Hey I picked out a few options for you”

“Thanks again for this, I appreciate it” Her demeanour seems more closed of than it was when playing the game less than an hour ago. She seems to hide herself, rubbing her arm in what I can only assume as a form of self-comfort.

“You, okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t want to feel like I’m overstepping” She sits down on the bed behind her.

“Trust me. You aren’t, I want you here.” Those words come out a little too fast than what I wanted them to.

“Really?”

“Yeah...really.”

We smile at each other for a moment before I snap out of it and hand her the clothes that were draped over my arms.

“Thank you, Matt.” She gives me a small smile which I reciprocate before I even process it.

Her phone suddenly vibrates on the nightstand displaying the name ‘Scarlett Hawkes’.

“Sorry, I have to take this.”

Alyia pov:

“Hello mother.”

“Hello Ally, why are you not at home?”

“I went out with friends, I’m staying over.”

“And you didn’t tell me? I’m at home waiting for you and you aren’t here.”

“You didn’t tell me you would even be home.”

“I told you I would be home on Thursday, Ally”

“Mother it’s Friday.”

“Either way I expect you to be home tomorrow.”

I sigh and hang up the phone, not wanting to deal with the conversation any longer and I place my phone back on the nightstand.

“Sorry about that” I mumble quietly.

“Was that your mum?”

“Uh yeah, she is finally home and wondered why I'm not.” I speak slyly, hoping he doesn’t pick up on my attitude.

“I haven’t ever seen your mum at your home before...”

“She travels a load; she works in fashion and is constantly travelling and my dad organises her meetings and manages all her work. They try to be home when they can but it’s not often enough.”

“Fuck...well you’re always welcome over here if you ever feel lonely or something”

“Yeah?”

“Of course, you’re my mate and you get on well with my brothers and everyone, tonight was fun. I’m glad you stayed over.” He offers me a smile and I smile back, watching as he sits down next to me.

“Well thanks for inviting me”

“Don’t sweat it, the buses are awful at night and we have nothing planned”

I keep my smile as I look down at my hands, fidgeting with them quietly.

“Well...I’ll uh let you get ready and I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yeah, thanks again for this” I meet his gaze, standing up holding the clothes he gave me a few moments ago.

“If you need anything, let me know, yeah?”

I nod to him as he leaves my room, pushing the door to. His footsteps fade as he walks to his own room, hearing the chair creak as he sits in it.

I flick through the few shirts he gave me and I pull out a ransom shirt.

The one he wore when we met.

@yuhayeee @melliflws @axolotllover225 @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @sturniolosmind @worldlxvlys @patscorner @breeloveschris @y0urm4m

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

@intertexts OKAY. FINALLY GETTING MY SHIT TOGETHER AND WRITING THIS ALL DOWN SO ITS NOT JUST ROTATING IN MY BRAIN ANYMORE

NEW HAVEN WARDS MARK WINTERS ESSAY (except its more like. stream of consciousness me being insane over him)

>> its been too long, simurgh is too close. she fucking ROCKS half the city with an earthquake before she shows up. ashe runs inside as the roof collapses. his mom is trapped- she had grabbed her phone and some other small essentials and was on her way out when she got pinned by the rubble. ive typed this part out already in another post but as shes yelling at ashe trying to get him to leave, she realizes he wont go by himself so she texts mark . its kind of a shot in the dark- part of her hopes he hasnt evacuated yet so he can come get ashe and get him to safety, but she immediately feels this sense of dread for thinking like that because then that also means he's in as much danger as they are. and she can hear the singing now- some tiny part of her brain logically knows its too late and theyll be trapped by the quarantine protocols anyway, but. they can still get out of that alive. they just need to get there. anyway the important thing here is that the last thing ever hears from his wife is a text that says "ashe athome cant lea e come get hjm"

adding jonesys stupid fucking image in here bc it's so funny to me and is fr how I felt typing this whole thing up for like 4 hours

>> okay going to try my hardest to keep this chronological but i KNOW i will get distracted from that halfway through. starting from the simurgh attack. assuming simurgh attacks look pretty similar to each other, ive been imagining this a lot like the one we actually got to see with the travelers. the notice to evacuate went out in the early afternoon. (im going to say on a wednesday because thats the day i used in my fic and this is OUR AU i get to make the emotionally devastating rules. not that that matters to anyone but me. its a little treat.) so. mark was at work, ashe was at school, i like 2 think ashes mom works in somehting to do with old things or books or whatever so she was probably at work too. her IMMEDIATE thought is to go get ashe from school, because of course it is! (worldbuilding side note i think there are probably evac protocols in place for schools where. first priority is to keep the kids Togehter and get them out first so theyre SUPPOSED to evacuate straight from there and then meet up with their parents when everything is safe. but in a real emergency what parent is going to trust that and just leave their kids safety up to someone else?) she gets to the school and it is absolute chaos with all of the other parents trying to do the same thing. she gets ashe, goes to call mark to tell him where they are and- oh, yeah. she forgot her phone at home this morning. i just. like. the mundanity in that. its a normal morning, she maybe woke up late and had to rush out the door, got to work realized she didnt have her phone, had the thought like "damn thats frustrating. oh well, not like ill need it, ill just get it when im home later" we've all had days like that!!!!!!!!! but it becomes fucking heartbreaking in this situation because it means she now has No Way of contacting her husband to let him know that she has ashe and to tell him not to go to the school (because hes probably thinking the same thing) and to get out and where to meet them when theyre out. she KNOWS its a bad idea, she knows it would be catastrophic if they took too long... but all the other cars are going in the opposite direction, the road back is completely empty, surely they can be fast enough? she knows exactly where she left it, itll take two seconds and hey maybe the roads will be empty enough at that point they can get out even faster. so they fucking RUSH back home. she tells ashe to stay in the car wiht the doors locked while she runs inside.. he is scared and confused and doesnt want to be alone so after. maybe 30 seconds of her being gone he gets out of the car and goes inside.

>> switching to mark pov finally. evac notice goes out, he fucking books it to his car. but because its important to me that hes a little bit of a coward. this is where he hesitates. he knows he should find his family. meet up with them, make sure theyre all okay and they all make it out together. he's also logical. he knows this is a bad idea and his wife's job is closer to the school, shes probably already got ashe and theyre on their way out too. he can just leave. but he hasnt heard anything from her. thats not like her, she would call or something if they were okay, wouldnt she? so he kind of. panics over what he should do. he starts driving, telling himself he'll make up his mind on the road. hes about halfway to the end of the quarantine zone when he gets the text. has a moment of "fuck why are they there?" before immediately deciding to go get them. finds the aftermath of ashe's trigger. ashe is in breaker state, unresponsive except for... why is he laughing. hes sitting on the floor, knees up to his chest hands over his head jsut kind of. staring into the middle distance eyes unfocused quietly loopy laughing like hes totally unaware of the. scene.

>> mark is like. frozen there for a minute obviously horrified and he thinks ashe is having some kind of mental break at the shock and horror (he doesnt. understand that ashe killed her yet) until he goes and tries to get him to stand up and . oh the floor is unstable and bouncy like a trampoline and as soon as he touches ashe's shoulder hes knocked back by a pain in his hand that suspiciously feels like a joybuzzer turned up to 11. okay! fuck! his kid is a fucking parahuman and his wife is dead and the singing in his head just keeps getting louder and he knows what that means and he knows they have to get the hell out of there but hows he gonna do that when he cant get within 5 feet of ashe-

>> i think he just has to like. sit there and talk to ashe. which is a uniquely horrible punishment because it kills so much time in a situation where they need to get out, now, and the whole time theyre in the same room with whats left of a bloody corpse (but he cant think about that right now) and he has to be calm and keep his voice low because every sudden movement makes ashe's powers flare up again in response to a perceived threat- its MESSY, its SLOW its TERRIBLE but he needs ashe to calm down enough that he can actually talk to him and get him out. he eventually does (it feels like hours later, it was probably only like.. 10 minutes) and the weird distortions stop and mark just. runs forward and picks him up and takes him out to the car before ashe can. see what else is in the room.

>> he doesnt even bother putting ashe in another seat in the car he just holds him in his lap as he drives (oh god there are wings in the sky) just. as fast as he fucking can to whatever checkpoint or hospital or safe zone there is for any survivors. theres. not many. enough that the two of them can get lost in the crowd if they try hard enough but . not enough to fill an auditorium. he's maybe got a bunch of really small scrapes or bruises from the process of trying to get ashe to calm down but he doesnt know whether ashe is actually hurt or not so he goes to find some sort of medical attention and the whole time hes thinking "maybe this is a bad idea. i shouldnt tell them ashe has powers what if they take him away" and he gets the same sort of rundown about quarantine and payment that krouse got and mark is just standing there fucking shaking, hes still carrying ashe, he hasnt put him down since they left the house (ashe is still out of it- not because of his powers but because of. everything) and i think thats the breaking point where mark makes up his mind like. fuck this. we cant stay here, we cant go through all of the bullshit protocols, we cant wait that long (he can still hear simurgh in his head- what if shes pushing him to make this choice? is that exactly what she wants? who cares im getting my son somewhere safe)

>> i think mark is really good at. compartmentalizing and pushing down any emotion thats not anger and turning to logic in panic situations rather than emotion. so he hasnt like. fully processed any of this yet. he was more focused on "solve the problem, get out, get safe" to actually think about the fact that. oh my wife is dead. ashe doesnt have a mom anymore. ashe has powers now. how is he gonna deal with a powered kid? he never really cared about capes what does he even do now? i dont think any of this hits him until theyre out of the quarantine zone hiding out somewhere safe (as safe as they can be after. all of that) and his head is quiet and ashe is asleep and he looks down at his phone and sees the text and it all comes crashing down like. oh my god that was real. shes gone. he doesnt even have anything of hers and he never will because their house is basically gone and they can never go back and- FUCK HIM UP!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK HIM UP i want him to have a fucking breakdown . villain origin story moment he realizes nothing is ever going to be okay or normal ever again because theyve been marked by simurgh and hes already broken a huge fucking law how much worse can it get? what else does he have to lose. everything in his life revolves around keeping them safe and keeping ashe out of danger. simurgh be damned if hes going to become an agent of chaos it might as well be on his own terms to protect whats left of his family.

>> i think they move around a lot after that, never staying in one place for too long, never doing anything that make people look at them too closely. mark does a bunch of odd jobs, but its hard to get a job when youre legally dead and have no experience with making a fake identity so. theres a lot of stealing. never anything that would garner cape attention, at least at first, and if people started to get too suspicious theyd just pack up and move again.

>> and then mark does something that DOES draw cape attention. idk what it would be, but it captures the attention of. a guy who knows a guy who works for overlord. hey man you seem like you could use a job. off the books. so he joins up as like a... foot soldier mercenary whatever for overlord. this job is risky- hes essentially a full time criminal now (but what does that matter, he already broke the law), he has to spend extended periods of time away from home, he has to kill people sometimes now... but the money is worth it. he's okay with being a number, a blank face in the crowd, because it means he wont get the immediate fallout if something goes wrong. that gets put on whoever his boss is. ashe is maybe 13/14 by this point, he can take care of himself at home. mark gives himself a limit, hes never going to be away from home for more than 3 days (which he eventually extends into 5 days, which then turns into a week-). he is. really fucking good at his job. hes smart, he can be ruthless when he needs to be, he's efficient. no identity means no friends which means no slacking off on the job. this is all he has, he needs this, so hes good at it.

>> he starts to move up the ranks, take bigger (but never riskier) jobs, and it catches overlord's attention. overlord offers him a promotion. offer being in air quotes here. he lays everything out plain and simple- youre good, youre going to join my personal elite team, i know who you are and why youre running. i can offer you an out, get you and your son (oh god oh fuck overlord knows about his kid) a new life, a new identity, nobody will have any reason to suspect you. and also in order to join you have to take this (cauldron vial!!! + canon parallel to the like. forced experimentation on harttawa)

>> mark doesnt want pwoers. he doesnt want to be a cape. but overlord knows about ashe, knows about their history, and if he turns down this offer theyre both fucked. so logic takes over emotion again and he accepts it, leans into the position, stays as fucking ruthless as ever. but its Different now. hes a cape, he has a secret identity, a name, people are Looking at him now, even if all they see is a costume.

>> silly sidebar for ME here but this period of time is where he meets tide :] forever thinking about ur nhw tidalwave post. fight to maim, not kill.

>> a couple years pass like this and its Fine. ashe is 17 now, mark knows hes fucked up (theyre both fucked up) but hes too deep into this job now to give it up. its kept them safe and in place for this long, he can fool himself into believing they can stay like this . ashe does not have the same train of thought. hes lonely, hes miserable, hes bored, he just wants to have a life! they fight a lot about this. they fight a lot about this and sometimes mark leaves in the middle of it because he gets called on a job so nothing ever gets resolved. they have a particularly rough fight and mark gets pulled away in the middle of it to answer a phonecall, and when he comes back ashe is still pissed but hes just so tired and defeated that hes like "listen. we'll deal with this later, i have to go for a few days, there are groceries in the fridge, do whatever you want, just stay here, be safe, dont be stupid" and then he leaves! and ashe is still pissed and his dad is a hypocrite (why does he get to go out and use his powers and put himself in dangerous situations when ashe gets in trouble for floating the tv remote to the kitchen table while hes eating breakfast, and never gets to leave the house or go to school or have friends or-) . and this is where he makes the decision to sneak out the first time!!

>> he starts sneaking out more often, usually only when he knows mark is gonna be gone for extended periods of time, he gets good at disabling the tinker devices, he has friends!! everything is good!!!! mark finds out when he gets home from a job early and ashe is gone. and he fucking freaks out, hes ready to tear up city streets, hes ready to go on a fucking rampage... but then he hears the window open as he climbs back into his room . its a big like. "oh shit" moment on ashes part, he doesnt think hes ever seen his dad this angry before, he threatens to put bars on the goddamn windows, etc (mark has a reason to be as angry as he does- if anything ever happens to ashe everything hes ever done will have been for nothing. but its still. harsh.)

>> i think once everything cools down from this they do have an actual talk about it that isnt a fight; ashe tells him he has friends now and he just wants to be normal, be a kid, he cant spend anymore time in his room its killing him knowing hes wasting his life like this etc. i think mark maybe reluctantly agrees to letting him go out with his friends (he doesnt know who they are yet, ive GOTTA believe he knows tide hes had to have fought or at least seen the wards before, theres no way he would say yes to this if he knew thats who ashe was talking about) but gives him strict like. dont use your powers ever, curfews and check in texts and a code system and its a little Too Much but ashe is just. giddy at all of it because !! curfews are a thing Normal kids get!! he gets to go hang out with his friends without the looming threat of sneaking out to do it !!!

>> ashe starts using his powers anyway because his friends are capes and !!! he is also technically a cape!! he can help!!!! i think he starts out by beggingggg to go on patrol with them sometimes (i wont even do anything, i just want to see what its like, you guys know i have powers too i can handle myself, dont be like my dad etc etc) i think the wards are pretty reluctant to do that bc they know what its really like but. man. its ashe. he deserves Something. it becomes more frequent and serious and the prt handler tells them they should recruit him.

>> mark is sooooooo fucking against ashe joining the wards. because of course he is he has to be. ESPECIALLY considering. hey. hes a villain, working for one of the most notorious villains in the city, being put in a situation where he has to choose between fighting his son or losing overlords protection is a HUGE NIGHTMARE SCENARIO. (he would choose to say fuck overlord with no hesitation, no way he would even consider the other option, but he also knows what kind of consequences a choice like that would have)

>> hey. actually. that gives me an idea. what if thats exactly the scenario that leads up to the whole trickster thing. overlord wants to be proactive, launch an attack on the wards, they just got a dangerous new member lets go see what kind of powers theyve got. mark obviosuly refuses. overlord does not take being told no very kindly. hey what if this is how mark gets the lizard stuff. instead of getting it as a side effect mutation of his powers, he pisses off overlord, the guy who has a morbid fascination with animal human hybrids and genetic experimentation. ive solved everything!!!!!! (<< guy who is fucking insane. please imagine me with mad science hair and crazy eyes as i am saying this. dr. cross who?)

>> mark effectively goes missing while overlord has him captive, ashe is freaked out because his dad has never left without telling him first, but maybe it was an emergency or whatever... until his hard limit on jobs passes. its been over a week and no contact whatsoever. hes gone. ashe gets fucked up about this

>> mark is unconscious for the entire trickster thing. he was unmasked for the experimentation so when the heroes come to clean up the aftermath they dont recognize him as one of the villains (tide does. tide doesnt tell anyone) and take him to. a hospital rather than prison. he is fuuuucked up when he wakes up. gotta adjust to a WHOLE lot of freaky lizard things. hes kind of out of it, understandably, so nobody... tells him. its only a few days later, when mark is more lucid and can stand on his own two feet without losing balance, and when he can see properly again, tide visits him (tide has been visiting him the whole time, not that he'd remember it much, because who else will. who else will!) tide tells him ashe is missing. he breaks the news as gently as he possibly can because its gonna be a shitshow either way (he knows how mark is gonna react no matter what. waiting doesnt help either because then hes just pissed that he was lied to for days ("you coudlnt even stand, how was i supposed to tell you then?" "i dont know, i wouldve done something. he could be anywhere by now")

>> mark goes sooooo rogue. he goes so very rogue. hes literally got nothing to lose anymore. the wards try to work with him, try to help him, because theyre looking for ashe too, but he thinks theyre too slow, too good, too afraid to do things that actually need to be done. he goes too far and gets put in the birdcage.

>> i think he probably loses it a little bit in the birdcage. hardcore despair depression that turns into just this awful terrible rage. hes mad at himself for not being able to stop it, hes mad at ashe because this is what he WARNED him about for YEARS and if he only would have listened, hes mad at the world, hes mad at SIMURGH . all nhw mark winters knows is be so full of grief and rage at all times

>> breaks out of the birdcage (still insane abt this btw) and goes back on his. sort of rampage. the wards stop him (tide is. retired at this point. that happened while mark was in jail) and they try to talk some sense into him, maybe they get him to slow down just a little bit, enough to tell him what theyve learned (not much). mark and everyone else eventually learn about muse. mark winters worlds most miserable man is watching every single one of his nightmares play out in front of him and he realizes this is what simurgh marked them for. hes watching his son, unmasked, level a fucking town in some gaudy outfit he knows ashe would never wear and hes calling himself muse and thats not what his laugh sounds like and

>> okay im a little more fuzzy past this point. i said this mostly joking before but i DO think there should be a moment where. mark is up against muse and hes trying to talk to ashe like he did that first night to get him out of breaker state and ashe gets one lucid moment where he just starts crying and babbling about losing marks jacket and hes so sorry but that only lasts about 2 minutes before trickster gets control of him again. this is the catalyst for them realizing that yeah, ashe IS still in there and it might be possible to break him out .

>> god. all of that was plot and i didnt even talk about Little Things which are my favorite. heres a collection of Little Things:

>> i want him to keep his weird terrible lizard biology <3 maybe its not as smooth a transition as in canon, maybe hes just got the scales and the eye and not. the tail or infrared sense or whatever. but he Could. as a Treat for Me.

>> i actually... ironically think mark is a better dad in this au than he is in canon. like. dont get me wrong hes still awful and he sucks but. hes working with the knowledge here that no matter what he does he and ashe are still doomed and hes always waiting for the other shoe to drop and hes more scared and theres nothing he can do about it so. he makes more of an effort to Actually Care about his son. before overlord he never wouldve missed a birthday for anyhting. theyre all each other has.

>> that little bit of dialogue i typed up for mark earlier. stay here, be safe, dont be stupid. be safe, dont be stupid. he says that a lot, always in that order. enough that when ashe is with the wards sometimes he'll also say it. dakota "im going to pick up the pizza" ashe from the couch "be safe dont be stupid" (IMMEDIATE recoil as he thinks about it for more than a second because he has an oh god i sound like my dad moment. but everyone else finds it endearing)

>> THE COAT!!!!!!!! THECOAT. i think about the coat a lot. its just. a random one that ashe grabbed from the closet the first time he snuck out. but it was a good size, exactly as baggy as he likes, hey! he found old money in the pocket! so he just like. claims it as his own and neither of them ever say anything about it but its suuuuch. comfort clothing for ashe and he doesnt like thinking about why. it just is. he wears it EVERYWHERE all the time, its the one piece of clothing the rest of the wards never steal beacuse they know its important to him.

>> there is exactly one (1) surviving picture of ashes mom outside of their old house and its a crumpled polaroid mark had in his wallet from when ashe was a baby.

>> he will never admit this to himself or anyone else but. as much as mark is scared for ashe and scared for both of their safety and what it means for them to be simurgh victims... he is also scared OF ashe, even just subconsciously . he has nightmares about finding ashe that day, laughing. about what mightve happened if he wasnt able to break ashe out of that state. about what mightve happened if he had never gotten that text and continued on with the evac protocols. i need that blonde man to be fucking miserable

>> literally always thinking about your tidalwave post. never not thinking about your tidalwave post. i dont even have much to add here other than i really like nhw tidalwave a lot. the aftermath of the leviathan fight makes me crazy even if thats mostly one-sided on tides part.

>> his tinker specialty is power enhancement. he makes devices that make his and other peoples powers stronger or extend their range. the drawback is that the devices need to be Connected to the person using them in some way (thinking about the ports he has on his back in canon. his gauntlets clamp down on his forearms. overlord had him make each of the capes under his power something that enhances them too so theyve all got little. gadgets embedded in them somehow) (begs the question can he also make things that dampen powers? is this falling too far into Trump category?)

>> he got ashe his headphones as a birthday present when he was like... 15 . their fights had been getting more frequent as he had to be away from home more and ashe was fully in his angsty teen "i hate my dad" phase, but mark had been working w overlord for like a year at that point and money wasnt as much of an issue anymore so he got ashe like. the most high quality noise cancelling headphones he could possibly find.

okay i think thats all. its nearly 1am lmao!!!!!

[yelenasdiary]

Hi! If you’re still taking requests would love one with Florence x Reader where the Reader has appendicitis. Flo comes home from filming to find the reader burning up and in pain. I went through a bit of a traumatic health thing last year, and something where Florence helps the reader through this sounds nice :)

Burning Up

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: Florence comes home to find you burning up.  

Comfort | Fluff | 0.7K | No Warnings

AC: I’ve never had any appendicitis pain, so I hope I covered this well for you! Enjoy xx

Florence was coming home today after weeks of being away shooting her next movie and you've missed her dearly. The way she was able to bring out the biggest smile on your face no matter how low or ill you were, she was always able to make you feel better by simple just being in the same room. She called you early in the morning to let you know she was just about to board the plane which only led to your excitement to build up. 

You made the house extra clean, made some lunch all while ignoring the pain in your stomach. You thought it was caused by you being over excited to see your girlfriend are weeks of Facetime calls and restless nights, but that idea quickly came to a distant thought when you tried to take Billie for a walk, every step only made the pain feel worse and eventually you had to turn back home. 

It was only a matter of hours until Florence would be home and the pain was only getting worse with every jarring movement. But still, you told yourself excuse after excuse to avoid ruining the moment you saw Florence's wide smile walk into the room with her luggage at her feel and her arms open wide for a warm hug that you missed so much. Billie on the other hand could sense the pain you were in and refused to leave your side, laying at your feet and following you into every room until you gave up and decided to lie in bed until you heard Florence's car pull up, Billie curled up close to you. 

By the time you heard the car pull up in the driveway you were breaking into a sweat, unable to move without the pain stabbing your sharply making you hiss to yourself. Billie didn't move an inch, even when she heard Florence announce she was home. "Darling?" you heard Florence call, her voice getting closer to the bedroom as she made her way up the stairs. Quickly you wiped any sweat from your face onto your shirt and painfully made an effort to sit up just before Florence entered the room. 

"There you are" she smiled softly, "Are you okay?" she asks, you nod and smile softly back, "just had a little nap, that's all" you assure your now worried girlfriend, "how was filming?" you asked to change the topic as she walked over to you and sat on the edge of the bed besides you. "Are you sure? Darling, you're sweating" Florence ignores your question with a concerned frown before placing a hand over your forehead, 

"Baby, you're burning up!"

"Flo, I'm fine, I promise" you smiled softly even though you knew she didn't buy a word you just said, "Lay down, you're staying in bed" she insists, you try your best to shuffle to lie down but the pain made it too obvious to Florence that something else was wrong. "Honey, can you move?" she asked, slowly you shook your head. "I've been having this sharp pain in my stomach since I woke up and it's just getting worse whenever I move" you finally admit, your hands holding your stomach in hopes to ease the pain. 

"Right, we're going to the emergency room right now" Florence stood up and pulled the covers off you.

"Baby, please no, you just got home" 

"I don't care darling, you're in pain and you're burning up. You need to be looked at" she replies as she helps you throw your arm over her neck. 

----

"Well, Miss Y/L/N, you have an inflamed appendicitis" the doctor says looking up from the clipboard. "W-will I need surgery?" you asked as you squeezed Florence's hand in fear, in response she kissed your temple and whispered that everything would be okay. 

"I'm going to give you a script for antibiotics to use for a week, if nothing changes, we will operate" he informs you. "Thank you, doctor" Florence steps in taking the script from his hand, "take 1 tablet in the morning and another after lunch. I'll have the nurses book you in for another scan in a week's time, if at any point you feel even worse, please come back as soon as possible" he adds before leaving the room. 

"I don't want surgery" you looked at Florence with eyes full of fear. "Darling, it's okay. We'll take the antibiotics first and hope we don't have to come back but if we do, I'll be right here, okay?" she assures you as she brushes a lock of hair out of your face, "now get some rest while you have the morphine" she adds with a soft smile and a kiss on your lips.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @jeyramarie | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145  | @sophie-xox | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @get-the-fuck-outta-here | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @marvelfan98 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @sophie-xox | @fluffyblanketgecko | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @crescent-witch | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | @a-dorkier-book-keeper | @hehehehannahthings | @blue-serendipityy | @secrettoallofyou | @romantic-slaps-on-the-asss | @marvel-fan-2021 | @mmmmokdok | @riveramorylunar | @ripofflizzie |

[sidthedollface2]

Third Love

Ch: 7 El Catrin

Pairing: Eddie x Mexican Female Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Chapter Summary: After your perfect date with Eddie gets tarnished by his friends' hurtful words. Things take an odd turn when a stranger sends you to the hospital only to end up a friend of a friend. What happens when you're both left alone and an unchained melody plays in the background.

CW: MDNI 18+ Nightmares, mental illness, mentions of death of a parent, SMUT, Modern au Eddie, fuckboy Eddie, Locker room guy talk, Reader with another man (not cheating). I gave you a cute lil nickname cuz you're a 🍑

"You can call me Peach."

"Peach." He says, already liking the way your name rolls off his tongue. "Oh, um I was wondering if you knew where this building was? Was looking for it when I …accidently hit you."

You take a look at the address, brows furrowed as you glance back at him. "Are you visiting someone?" You question. "Yeah, yeah. My friend Max said it was ok to crash at her apartment for a few days while I get my stuff together."

Eyebrows raised in surprise, "Did she now," this was all news to you. Where was he going to sleep? When was she going to tell you? Sure, you weren't really home that often, but a little heads up would be nice.

"I guess you could help me upstairs, since you'll be staying over."

Steve grins from ear to ear, already holding your purse and his duffle bag, hand on the small of your back guiding you slowly up the steps. When you reach your apartment Max is nowhere to be found.

Glad to finally be home after a long day, you strip out of your clothes and into comfy pajamas. Steve takes a seat on the couch, eyes glancing every direction admiring the decor that's a perfect combo of you and Max. "You can make yourself at home, showers just down the hall, I'm sure you're tired so um couch or, Max's room is just across from mine." You give him a tight lipped smile, setting down a glass of water for him. "Welcome to anything in the fridge."

"Thanks, you should get some rest. Dr's orders and all."

"Mmhmm," you agree, leaving Steve in the living room as you walk hop towards your bedroom, wincing in pain at every step. Once in your room, you make yourself comfy with many pillows propped behind your head and under your ankle. Cold ice pack along the bridge of your nose. You couldn't believe the day you had, exhaustion from the rollercoaster of emotions and pain medication slowly working you into slumber.

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

911 What's your emergency?

"She's dead."

Who's dead?

"My mom."

Who killed her?

"I did."

"I did."

"I did."

"No…….No….Mom…….wake up!!" You mumble, tears flooding your waterline as you relive the night your mother died. Sweat pools the collar of your shirt as you toss and turn in bed, sheets twisted around your legs from kicking and jerking against your mattress. Heavy sobs wreck your body causing you to flinch and twitch, each jostle further injuring your bandaged ankle and wrapped knees. Loud shrieks echo in your room as you scream out "It's not true, It's not true!"

Forceful pounding at your door shocks you awake, splotches of crimson stain your once white sheets, dried blood crusted around your nostrils. Your eyes attempt to focus in the dark. Heart beating out of your chest you scramble off your bed to the floor, knees to your chest, rocking back and forth, tears freely streaming down your face.

Body buzzing from intense pain and fear you flinch at the sudden touch to your knee. Acting on instinct you push the person in front of you, causing them to fall back from their kneeling position. As you stand to dart from their grasp, you cry out in pain when your injured foot stubs the corner of your bed.

Muscled arms wrap around your waist pulling you into them. Cradled in their arms the soothing words "hey hey Peach you're ok, It's just a nightmare, you're safe," repeat in your ears, voice quiet and smooth. Soft hands run up and down your back, calming your trembling form. Mindlessly your fingers brush their hair at the nape of their neck, the constant action soothing you, but causing goosebumps along their arms and they shudder at the sensation. You buried your face into his shoulder, the scent of vanilla invading your senses.

Steve.

It's different from the smoke and leather you wish it was. Your curious hand strokes at the thatch of hair on his chest, you feel a swift intake of breath as your palm sits between his pecs. His nose nudges at the slope of your neck, lips skimming the delicate skin, the feel of a faint peck just below your ear heats your body.

Your consciousness slips in and out, a solid weight grounding your nightmares. Steve's arms are wrapped around you, still sitting curled up on his lap. You know he's uncomfortable but doesn't make an effort to move. His breath fans across your face, light snores telling you he's fallen asleep. Your tears have dried, your heart no longer racing. The pain in your ankle now intensified from kicking and hitting it against the bed.

You shift to get off the floor and climb back in your soft bed, groaning as you attempt to stand. "Easy, I gotcha." Steve says, voice groggy with sleep. He stands with a wince as he stretches out his limbs before he helps you to the bed. Fluffing your pillows for optimal comfort. He places another pillow under your ankle to elevate the limb, and grabs his sheet from the living room to drape over you.

"Steve, I'm sorry you had to see that." You sniffle, chest tight with sadness and fear. You didn't want anyone to witness those bad nightmares, especially someone you just met. Everything from the hurt that Eddie caused, to the name calling from his bandmates, to unintentionally hurting Sebastian who's nothing more than understanding with you. To the bag colliding with your face. It was all too much for one day.

All you wanted was rest from the awful day you had but of course instead of warmth and sunshine you received clouds and rain. "It's alright, just get some rest." He was standing in the doorway, another comment on the tip of his tongue, but he decided against it. His hand held onto the door knob slowly closing the door behind him. "Hey Steve?" You questioned. He peeked back inside, "hmmm?"

"Could you…maybe lay with me? Until I fall asleep? Please." Your small voice broke him, how could he say no? After the screams he heard and the thrashing about in your bed. "Sure," he said, closing the door behind him. He slid under the covers, the heat of his body already calming you. He faced away from you, scared he crossed a line when he softly kissed your neck.

He did it to bring your focus to something tender instead of terrifying, it worked, to his surprise. He wouldn't try anything else, not unless you wanted of course. Sleep came easy for him, the scent of your pillow a welcomed contrast to the musk of his roommates from back home. It had been too long since he was in bed with a woman, a pretty one at that.

Unfortunately for you the night was still restless. It wasn't the nightmares this time but flashes of your beautiful mother. It was bitter sweet, seeing her in your dreams. Almost like she was just away on vacation, but that wasn't true. You saw it happen, her screams as she took the bullet.

The way she collapsed onto your arms and the bright red blood that seeped from the wound. Her wide and teary eyes as they searched for you, focusing in and out as more blood escaped her body. The shallowness of her breaths as her time came closer and closer. You'll never forget the look on her face when her light dimmed.

You woke up in Steve's arms, one arm wrapped around your back holding you to his chest, while the other lay on your bare thigh. His face mere inches from yours as you laid on top of him, chest to chest, you must have snuggled up to him during the night. Your eyes widened at the closeness, quietly you attempted to roll off him but in his groggy haze he just nuzzled into you more. The hand that was on your thigh traveled up the curve of your behind to rest on your back, giving you a tight squeeze.

You cleared your throat and that's when Steve's eyes shot wide open. Pulling his arms away from you to land flush against the bed. You felt him tense under you, back stiff and prone to the bed. You rolled off of him, pretending you didn't feel him half hard under you.

A swift knock at your bedroom door made you both turn to see who it was, when a pair of bright blue eyes came through from behind the door. Max quickly noticed a man in your bed and closed the door muttering a nervous "sorry, sorry," before she barged in again.

"Steve?" She gaped, pupils wide at seeing her friend in bed with her other friend. "It's not what you think." You exclaimed, almost launching yourself off the bed to explain yourself. Steve stopped you, his arm gripping your elbow. "I'll talk to her," he muttered, not wanting you to further injure yourself.

You nodded, concern written all over your face at what Max would think if you had slept with Steve. She knew all too well the nightmares you had so when Steve told her everything that had happened, she was more than understanding and even apologized for not being home when she said she was.

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

That morning Eddie showed up to Twisted Records, a large bouquet of flowers sent to the front desk addressed to you. He was hoping he could catch you at work and explain himself. He had called you multiple times, but each call was left unanswered, going straight to voicemail. He was soon getting tired of hearing the same message over and over. Even his text messages were being delivered but none had been read. To say he was starting to get worried was an understatement, had you blocked him? At that moment Eddie's phone buzzed, excitement rushed through him as he frantically checked the message.

Big Boy Steve: Just woke up in bed next to the prettiest girl I've ever seen.

Eddie just shook his head, wondering how his friend was already hooking up on his first day in California.

Eddie: Tell me all about it later. Busy.

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

Once your lunch time rolled around and you still hadn't shown up, Eddie decided to drive to your dads house. He wasn't sure if your security would buzz him in this time, but it was a gamble he was willing to take.

His shaky finger pressed the intercom, static followed by a gruff "how can I help you?"

"Hi, uh. Is Peach home? She told me to meet her here last night. I don't know if you remember me but I picked her up the other day." He lies, nervously hoping the guard lets him in and that you're home.

"Name?" The guard asks.

Shit.

"Eddie. Eddie Munson."

"I see. Peach is not on the property at this time." He clarifies.

Defeated Eddie drives back home. The longer he waits to see you or talk to you the further he feels from you. The last place he thinks you'll be is your apartment but he knows if he shows up you'd start to ask questions. He didn't want to give up, despite what he had said previously, the second he saw you, he knew you were the one. He had been with enough girls, talked to enough girls to know that you were meant to be together. So he'd try again tomorrow and the next day and the next until he saw you again.

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

You hadn't showed up to the office the following day either, the pain medication was so strong that it had you sleeping and drowsy almost all day. Steve was true to his word offering to drive you wherever you needed. First stop was at Austin's house. When you arrived his manager informed you that the crew was already en route to set up the cameras and equipment for the live stream that was to take place the next day.

"Whoa, what the fuck happend to you?" Austin questioned, alarmed at the state you were in. He was well aware of the abusive ways men can be, having been in the rap industry for a while. He's seen his fair share; but he never expected it from you.

"Was just an accident, got hit with a duffle bag." You groaned, hoping to inspect the area that would be visible to the stream. "Shit, must have been a bag full of books." He chuckled, trailing behind you, a cigarette between his fingers to calm his nerves.

Austin was a fairly popular rapper but needed to appeal to a bigger audience and get on the label's good graces again. He had never played rock before and he knew Nirvana fans were loyal to the band and the memory of Kurt, so to say he was on edge was an understatement.

"Looks good Austin, not bad for an idiot." You laughed, playfully smacking him in the gut. He had been your friend for his whole career so little jabs and insults didn't rile him up, had you been someone else though a different story. "Oh, before I forget. This is work Austin, not a damn party so no extra guests."

Austin scoffs, a small smirk gracing his lips. "Whatever you say boss." He turns away from you, walking to the other areas that will be on the live stream. You knew that tone, he was going to do whatever he pleased. He was the talent afterall. "Ugh fine, party after the stream though. I'm serious." Austin just grinned, the wheels in his head already turning with mischief.

There were four areas that would be on camera. One on Austin, he would be in front of the bar which showcased the bottles of various alcohol that were also sponsored. The second camera would be on Travis, his drum kit would be coming in the morning. His set up would be in front of a mini bar with a photo of Nirvana in the background.

The bassist Brian was going to be in an all white room, a bass lined up behind him for a song change. The last area would be for the guitar player Eric, who confirmed he was available that same morning. His set up was in front of a pool table with all his guitars and amps off to the side. Once all four areas were prepped and set up, you left Austin's house and headed back home.

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

Steve sat on the couch, Ghost played on the T.V. as you sat next to him. "I love this movie," you said. "It was my moms favorite," you found yourself smiling at the memory. She'd always enjoyed the film, a little romance mixed with suspense. "You want me to change it?" Steve suggested, not really sure if the memory was good or bad.

"No, I haven't seen it since–" And Steve understood, let you embrace whatever memory the movie had brought you. He saw joy in your eyes, perhaps a trip back to when times were better. "Here, get comfy." He tapped his thigh, urging you to elevate your ankle on his lap.

The scene of Molly and Sam at the pottery wheel had both of you longing for a similar connection. The sensual way his fingers laced with hers as he kissed at her neck had you clenching your thighs. Mindlessly, Steve began rubbing at your ankle, unable to tear his eyes away from the chemistry of the two actors. His touch was soft, slow circles at first, feeling the smooth skin under his fingertips that gradually went to your calf, then your knees.

Leading to your thighs, he kneaded at the meat, his touch growing feverish. You let out a cute giggle when Steve's hand gripped a little hard between your inner mid thigh. Throwing your head back in laughter you jerked your legs. "Tickles so much." you laughed, wiping at a stray tear that escaped your waterline. Steve smirked, wiggling his fingers at you before he lunged, careful to avoid your healing injuries.

Pinning you under him, his fingers began digging into your thighs, earning loud chuckles from you as you tried with all your strength to wiggle out from under him. You were able to lift your knee out to his side, settling him between your legs. "What's the password?" Steve joked, his wide smile looking down at you while his warm hands pinched your sides.

"Please," you breathed through a smile, bucking up into him trying to get his weight off you.

Steve's eyes widened at the sensual way you sounded and how natural he met your thrust, blood rushing straight to his lower half. He stops pinching and instead smooths his hand up and down the side of your waist, testing the waters. The hem of your top is already exposing your middle from the playful tickling. Hands feeling warm and hungry for attention, each touch growing more and more impatient.

"I really wanna kiss you," he whispers, hands inching higher up your waist.

"So kiss me." You flirt, coyly biting at your bottom lip.

Steve closes the distance, his chapped lips moving against your soft ones, kissing you till your lips turned puffy and red. His hips press into yours, feeling the warmth of your core through his flannel pants, the delicious friction making him moan into your mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers digging into his broad shoulders, bringing him closer to your body.

Steve's hand cups over your breast from beneath your top, pinching and kneading at your peaked nipple. "Knew they'd be perfect." He speaks through a kiss, trailing down the curve of your jaw, nipping and kissing at the sensitive skin. "Can I fuck you?" He asks, eyes filled with lust as he stares at you, lips wet and pouty, hips eager and rolling into you waiting for permission.

"Yes," you nod.

Steve is quick to pull at your jean shorts, popping the button with haste. It's been a good six months since he had any form of intimacy so his fingers clumsily fumble for the zipper. Lifting your butt off the couch, he eagerly starts to pull the denim down your hips.

"Steve, Wait! I don't have any–"

"I can pull out. And I'm clean, promise." He replies, quickly continuing to pull your shorts down, having them slide down your legs.

"Ok. Yeah." The tone in your voice is one of uncertainty.

"So pretty." He breathes, running his hands over the smoothness of your bare legs. His fingers trail from your delicate ankle, up behind your calf to the plush of your outer thigh, curving behind to grab at your ass. He hooks his fingers at the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down the soft curve of your hips.

"Stop."

"Why?!"

Steve shakes his head at his response. Disappointed in his frustration, "I'm sorry, I don't need a reason. We can stop."

"I'm sorry there's just…. someone else."

You wince, not exactly sure if that was the right thing to say. It was the truth. Although the words 'slut' swam around in your head didn't mean you had to make them true.

"Boyfriend?"

You don't answer him. Eddie wasn't your boyfriend, neither was Sebastian. But adding another guy to your roster just felt wrong. Sure, Steve was attractive, golden boy type. The type that made mom and dad proud. But he wasn't your type.

In a rush of embarrassment you quickly grab your shorts and pull them back on. Thankfully nothing went further than kissing, light groping and grinding. Although braless, your top managed to stay on. Crossing your arms over your chest to shield yourself from him, "I'll take an uber tomorrow," you announce. You turn away from him and make steps towards your room. Once in your room you pop a few pain pills, hoping the meds can soothe the shame in your stomach.

~~~

Steve sighs as he hangs his head low between his shoulders. He felt terrible for pushing you and now he made things awkward between you. Cursing under his breath he heads toward the shower, needing the release he so desperately wanted from you. Steve stroked his cock three times before he coated his stomach with his come. Almost happy he didn't get to be inside you and embarrass himself at how fast he would have came.

~~~~~~

Big Boy Steve: Hey, you up?

Eddie: Yeah man, what's up?

Big Boy Steve: Things got hot and heavy with the pretty girl. She felt so good I almost came in my pants like a teenager.

Eddie: lol fucken loser. Did you fuck her tho?

Big Boy Steve: Almost. We made out and then I was grabbin at her fucking tits but when I got her shorts off she said she didn't have a condom, so I said I'd pull out. But then she told me to stop. Such a tease.

Eddie: Damn that sucks. I'm gonna call you Blue Ball Steve now. Lmao.

Eddie: Anyway, I gotta go to bed. I have that Live stream tomorrow. Hope to see my girl again.

Big Boy Steve: Live Stream?

Eddie: Yea, got invited to hang out by Austin. My girl's best friend.

Big Boy Steve: Riiight. You never told me her name.

Eddie: Her name's Peach. Why?

Eddie: Steve?.....

A/N: I know some of you were waiting for the confontation between Eddie and Peach, and I promise It'll happen very very soon.

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