#why else would his entire body have stitches

[fleshdeliveryboy]

I love creepypasta bc I can basically just completely ignore the source material and make it so Liu did die but he's actually UNdead. But not like BEN and Sally where they got their physical growth stunted. Instead he ended up like more of a zombie and he started aging super fast and as long as he was in the overworld his body was basically like falling apart. He also ended up working with the police to find Jeff purely bc he wanted his brother back but he had to pretend he hated him and that he wasn't literally falling apart and looks way older than he is.

TLDR Liu is a zombie but he's also a master gaslighter

[peachesofteal]

Simon with herding instinct on that physio snippet.... God what I'd do to be Reader (I'm not sick but I'm KO by my period, so I think I also deserve herding instincts and a cup of tea made by someone who is not me)

I think you deserve a little treat for your body torturing you Same reader as this (female reader)

"Fuck." You draw a deep breath through your nose and blow it out slowly, trying to push the pain away. You have a busy schedule today, and the 141 was expected to be back which meant you'd have the Lieutenant on your table at some point between now and twenty one hundred.

You do not have time for period pain.

Your appointments waltz in and out through the day, your focus turning from the stabbing, burning ache in your belly, quads and lower back, until the clock finally ticks down to nineteen hundred, and you slump over in your chair. A moment's reprieve, a second to get off your feet, exhaustion sinking into you, your longing for your bed and a heating pad stealing the whole of your attention. You can almost feel it, the hot shower, the comfort of your sheets, a cup of tea. Almost.

For now, you swallow more paracetamol and hope it lasts you through the rest of the day.

The door to the clinic swings open, and you don't need to peek outside the door of your office to know who it is.

No one has footsteps as heavy as his.

The Lieutenant.

The man you do not understand. The one who treated you like a small, fragile animal when you were sick, barging into your house and forcing you onto the couch, doling out medicine and hand feeding you warm broth. He pressed cold cloths to your forehead, held your hair and rubbed your back as you vomited.

The entire time you trembled with nerves, staring at the stitching of his balaclava, looking away each time his face turned towards yours. He hated you, why was he here?

Your fever broke, he disappeared. And the next time you saw him-

He went back to treating you just as he always did.

Coldly. Gruffly. Rudely.

Tonight would be no different.

So when you step outside and see him still in his full kit, arms folded across his chest, you wilt, already defeated, stomach tying itself in knots.

"Need m'back looked at." He barks and you fight the instinct to jump.

"Yeah, o-of course." The words are unsteady, you're unsteady, just like each time before, and he doesn't say anything else, just looks you up and down before brushing by you to get to the table.

He's the width of your workspace. Wingspan larger than should be humanly possible, width of his shoulders and back difficult to comprehend. He could tear you apart, if he wanted, so you've always treated him so carefully, staying focused, making sure you don't slip up and push his muscles too far or cause him pain. It's the same care you apply to all your patients, but with him, it's different. It's like diffusing a bomb.

His head is turned towards you as your fingers walk down the middle of his spine, working pressure points. Every time he twitches, or grunts, or even breathes deeply, you tense, but you keep your focus, kneading down to his sciatic nerve, pushing in deep, deep enough to make him groan, your heartbeat pulsing in your ears.

You don't even realize he's saying your name until he shifts on the table.

"S-sorry?" His eyes are locked the space between your legs, and you follow his sight line, gasping when you see what he sees.

Red.

Your standard issue khaki pants are stained dark red at your thighs.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm," you stumble backwards, hands flying to cover yourself, scrambling on how to get yourself out of the room and into the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burn from humiliation. "I'm sorry, I uh- I'll be right back."

"Do you have another pair of pants?" He cocks his head.

I don't... I don't think so."

"Hmm." He continues to stare, and then, like he was having a conversation with himself, he swings off the table, reaching for the jacket he showed up in, before stalking towards you.

You stumble back, but you're too slow, and he catches you by your wrist, tugging you forward. You close your eyes. "Lieutenant-"

"Hush." The jacket goes around your waist, giant sleeves tied at your navel, the length of the hanging directly over where your pants are stained. You're not petite by any means, so the fact that this garment can even begin to cover you is a miracle in itself. But then again, he is massive. "Stay." He moves around the room, ducking into the other one with your desk, flicking the lights off, before grabbing the keys off the hook and shepherding you through the clinic to the front door.

"What... what're you doing?" There's a murderous look in his eye when he turns to you, and it freezes your blood.

"Takin' you home."

"I can get h-home myself." You hate the way your voice shakes.

"Covered in blood? You really want the entire base to see you like tha'?" The shame burns, and tears build on your waterline. "C'mon." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, essentially turning you into a ship with no sails, only a rudder at your back. Him.

He steers you into your house by your hips. You live directly off base, in civilian housing, luckiest of them all, if you're being honest, though in this moment, you're not sure you are so lucky.

"Leave your clothes in the sink." He orders when he lets you go, moving towards the kitchen.

"My clothes?"

"You know how to get bloodstains out of your clothes?"

"Oh, uh... n-no."

"Then..." he motions with his hands for your pants.

"Right now?" You squeak, and he nods.

"Now, pet." You fumble with the zipper and the button, hands trembling so bad you struggle with them. "Need help?"

"No! No... I got it." you get them down to your knees after a struggle, and then kick them off. Will he ask for your underwear too? He answers like he can ready your mind.

"Leave 'em on the bathroom floor. Shower, and then straight to bed."

"I'm not a child!" The protest is bold, boldest you've ever been with him, insecure, scared feelings coming forth in the outburst.

"Could've fooled me. Children need takin' care of, jus' like you." The words jam in your throat, stolen by the intensity of a cramp, and his eyes soften. "Go on up. I'll bring you somethin' for the pain, and some tea." There's no fight left in you, drained like the blood from your body, and your shoulders slump.

An hour later, in the dark, your door cracks. You're curled up in a ball, heating pad tucked against your pubic bone, buried beneath a mountain of blankets when the bed dips, the mass of the Lieutenant's weight settling next to your hip.

He sits you up, like a doll. Makes you take more paracetamol, finish a glass of water, and then pushes a hot tea in your hand.

By the time he's done, you slump back against the pillows, exhausted. Your eyelids go heavy, and he shifts you back to your side. You're too tired to argue with him, fight him, and when his fingers start applying counter pressure to your lower back, working through the tension, the tightness from your period, you let out a low moan. He chuckles. The man actually laughs.

"Why are you here?" You murmur in the dark, and he doesn't answer right away, sitting in the silence for too long.

And then-

"My mum always taught me to take care of my things."

[ffsg0jo]

tw: hurt/no comfort , chapter 261 spoilers , major character death -- inspired by @sttoru so please check their account out !!

i am taking requests and writing fics and matchups for gaza. check the linked post out to find out more !!

your shrieks could be heard echoing throughout the whole entire complex. everyone in the medical room pointedly refused to meet your gaze, knowing what had to be done. but you couldn't accept this as your reality. you wouldn't.

"please," you screamed, tears and snot running down your face, hair tangled and a complete mess.

you couldn't make anything out with your blurry eyes except the bloodied, stitched up figure laying on the table in the centre. the sight of your husband would haunt you for the rest of your life, image engraved into your eyelids.

"shoko, please, you can't do this to him, to either of them, please, please give him some decency." your hands grab the woman's as you plead and beg her. shoko only looks away, her eyes full of pity.

the exhaustion and dehydration catch up to you, and your body collapses into a bundle at her feet. your sobs only get louder as you grab at your best friends' ankles, gasping out a litany of "please shoko, don't." you couldn't breathe, the knot in your stomach pulling tighter and tighter.

she doesn't have it in her heart to look at you or push you away.

your sadness gives way to anger. anger towards the higher-ups. anger towards the fact that your husband couldn't even rest in peace after death. used as nothing but a weapon and tool in life and beyond death. anger towards the compliance of your peers and students.

you didn't care about the consequences. you just wanted your satoru back. would the child in your womb suffer the same way? you didn't even have the chance to tell satoru of their existence before the whole world turned upside down.

"he deserves to be buried," your shrill voice cut through the silence once more. you find the strength to stand up on shaky legs as you wipe the tears from your eyes. it's not long before they're filled once more, but you got a good look at everyone's solemn, teary faces. annoyance surges through your body.

"why is no one saying anything? this isn't humane, this isn't right."

"it's what he wanted," shoko responds, her voice small but unwavering. as though she was trying to convince herself what she was doing was right. her feelings could come later, but for now she needed to be strong.

you fall silent at her words, sniffing and trying to swallow back your sobs. of course he did. always the sacrificial lamb your satoru. never having a moment of peace except when he was in your arms, away from the monstrosity that was the sorcerer world.

"suguru would never have stood for this," the whisper of his name on your lips had shoko's head snapping to you. everyone else looking between you both nervously.

"suguru would never have allowed this to happen." you repeat, voice strengthening. you knew your best friend would've fought tooth and nail with you.

"you think i want to do this (name)?, i have no choice, it's our only chance!"

"you always have a choice, shoko. you always have one! yuuta's only 17, don't do this to him, please."

"and have him die?"

"death would be a mercy compared to whatever the fuck this is!"

shoko's words die on her lips. she knows you're right, but they both made their choices, and it was all for the greater good. she hated seeing you, her best friend, so hysterical. but her hands really were tied. shoko had to stay strong.

it's silent for a minute or two, save for your stifled sobs and sniffing. you could only stare at the lifeless body of your husband. even in death, he managed to look so ethereal and otherworldly.

you step towards his body, softly brushing the hair off his forehead. tears drip down onto his face, curving down the apples of satoru's cheek. he's cold to touch, so different from how he normally felt, always running hot. you kiss his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids. his lips.

your quivering lips try to breathe warmth back into him. instead, his coldness seeps through you. you turn your eyes to shoko once more. you've never felt so weak and helpless.

"i just want his body to mourn, shoko, please. i'm not asking for much, i just want his body to bury. i want his body to be his," your voice cracks as you speak. "he deserves that much at the very least, his child deserves that much."

you hear small gasps from the people around you, registering your words. a newfound sadness and bitterness settles deep into their bones.

"i- i can't (name), i'm sorry." tears start to fill shoko's eyes, and you know you're fighting a losing battle.

you withdraw yourself from his body, and you attempt to stand up straight. you gently lift his hand to press against your womb.

the child growing inside of you may never feel the warmth of their father's touch, but satoru's love transcended time and death. he was selfless in the way he gave everything to you and for his loved ones.

"wait for me satoru," you whisper, sofly rubbing his lifeless hand pressed against you with one hand and his icy, hardened cheek with the other. his coldness settled into your body, making you shiver uncontrollably. a fresh new wave of tears run down your face.

it was a privilege to have been able to love him and an even greater honour to mourn him. you would carry his love inside of you, deep within the marrow of your bones, for as long as you lived.

"wait for us, my love."

i am taking requests and writing fics and matchups for gaza. check the linked post out to find out more !!

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[abeejasarts]

I absolutely LOVE the Bill Goldilocks Cipher AU. (AU by @ckret2) I love it to bits. I think that its important everyone knows WHY I love it so much so more after the cut

I have recently gotten into reading the Bill “Goldilocks” Cipher AU, and I’m absolutely in love. (As an important note, I am on chapter 45) Not just because of the characterization and how it feels like how all the characters would act and adventures that could happen in the show, but also because specifically what Bill looks like. And I WILL INFODUMP!

Bill, for context, is stuck in this body. it’s not something he’s possessing, it’s his own body, but it was made by a computer. He created it instantaneously to escape the Theraprism (in an INCREDIBLE one shot I suggest fans of the Book of Bill read)

But then he got stuck. He couldn’t leave it, his soul was essentially stitched to the body with no powers and no way to escape. And he hates it. Bills body doesn’t look like him, not because it’s a woman, because it’s a human, and he wishes he was still a 2D triangle. The FACT that it’s a woman, the fact that it doesn’t match up with what we the audience imagine Bill would look like, let’s us imagine some of that “this isn’t right” dysphoria that is so essential to the story and Bill’s characterization. Of course we would imagine Bill to be a man, but he isn’t here. When he says he hates how his body curves and moves, we think, “oh, he means cause he’s a woman” NAW HE JUST WANTS TO BE 2D! It’s BRILLIANT!

But that’s not all!

Bills entire reason for escape is because he doesn’t want to stop being himself. He doesn’t want the prison to take away his memories or make him “perfect”, he just wants to be him and he’ll do anything to stay himself. He wants to be free.

and then when he escapes to try to stay himself forever, to “freedom”, he’s immediately trapped again. He’s trapped inside Gravity Falls, he’s trapped with the Pines, but worse; he’s trapped in a foreign body. He isn’t himself. The thing he wanted most cost him what he was fighting for to begin with.

This AU is so beautiful. It’s amazing. I adore it. And Author, if you’re reading this, your work has brought me many days of brainrot and joy.

Also, importantly, I haven’t read through the authors blog, so there’s a chance that they just think Bill should be a woman and that’s just what he would look like humanized, and there’s nothing deeper than that and I’ve made a fool of myself. If that’s the case, and the whole “the audience understands the dysphoria” part isn’t correct, I apologize, but if that is what you were going for, you did it perfectly and please never stop writing because it inspires me.

Also I have more fan art coming this AU really did give me serious brainrot like nothing else

[xlatiwritesx]

For Good | LN4

Genre: angst

Words: 1.5K

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: after four months of healing, you think you’re finally over the love of your life. But when he randomly shows up heartbroken at your doorstep late at night, you start questioning everything.

…

If someone asked what was one of the greatest luxuries that life offers, you'd immediately say the ability to forget. The ability of time to mend broken hearts and stitch up wounds. Even if not entirely.

You think of this as you wave goodbye to your friends whom were still talking around a small, round coffee table at a cafe downtown you've been planning to go to for weeks. You don't realize it until you were leaving that Lando was the one that had recommended this place to you. Your smile widens at your progress as you get in your car to drive home.

You stop at a red light, watching as the people pooled into the street to cross it, going on with their day. You smiled at a couple holding hands. You smiled at another holding each other close. You think back to the earlier days after your break up. How these scenes would've sent you over the edge. How these scenes kept you locked up in your apartment because it was easier to be a prisoner to isolation and loneliness than to endless heartbreak.

As you take the elevator up to your floor, you can't help but think of how it would’ve been if things were different. If he was different. No. If his life and what he was was different.

Would your heart have been torn apart into shreds and just barely brought back together?

You shake your head as if it would shake off the thought and unlock your door. You hang your coat behind it and drop your keys on the kitchen island.

Throwing yourself on your living room couch and kicking off your shoes, you can't help but think of how many nights you've woken up in the middle of, lonely and choking on nothing but a lump caused by loss and heartache. You shiver, feeling grateful that part of your life was over. That you've grown since then.

You focus on whatever was on the TV to stop you from thinking of the worst period of your life. You take a deep breath and force it out, getting comfortable by pulling a throw blanket over your cold body.

You get lost in the many ads and all their flashing colors, almost missing the ringing doorbell. You frown, wondering who could show up at that hour. You check your phone clock and it reads 11 pm. Your frown deepens as you sit up, giving the ringer one last chance before you went to open.

It rings again.

You finally get up, walk to the door and open it. Suddenly, it made sense why someone would visit you at that hour.

You look at him, his curls messier than you remember them to be, his eyes darker than you do as well. His athletic physique seems weak and beat up by something only you would know so well. He looks at you the same way you looked at his pictures when you left him that night.

"I can't do it, y/n" he whispers, barely having the strength to shrug. You open your mouth slightly, but nothing comes out.

You just open the door farther, moving out of the way so he could come into the place he has memorized by heart. He drags his feet along your wooden floors to the living room you had danced around in for many nights. Where you've shared words for only both of you to hear, confessions of admiration, and jokes no one else would laugh about but the both of you.

He drops on your couch and his head falls back. You shut the door and stand there, your hands behind you and your brows furrowed. So many emotions run through your body. Longing. Worry. Panic.

You didn't know how to act. Because the only way you knew how was to run into his arms and hold on to him forever. But you shut your eyes and pierce your lips. You couldn't do it to yourself. Not again.

You slowly walk closer to where he was, yet still stand far enough to be out of reach. You take a closer look at him. You've never seen him like this and it killed you.

"Lando" your shaky voice echos. He opens his eyes and look at you. You didn't think it was possible for more pain to find its way to his eyes. But somehow it did.

"Don't call me that" he frowns, standing up and walking closer to you. You keep your eyes on his, not able to move any inch of your body.

"You never call me that" he whispers, his face finally just inches away from yours.

Your heart squeezes. Squeezes so tightly that your eyes are forced shut and your tear ducts are suddenly full. His scent. His face. His voice. His mere existence. You missed it. You missed him. So much that you were barely standing on your feet still.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice is barely audible when you finally speak, your eyes still shut to keep your uninvited tears from exposing your tortured soul.

“Look at me” he begs, voice desperate. Way too desperate for you not to listen. Your eyes meet his again, except it’s a blurry version of them this time.

“Why are you here, Lan?” You promise yourself to call him by his nickname once. Just once more. He smiles through the storm of his emotions when you say it and you immediately question your integrity for already wanting to break the promise you’ve just made.

“What is it?” You pressure and his faint smile fades. He opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out immediately.

“I can’t do it. Being away from you-“ you turn around before he could finish, pressing the bottoms of your palms against your eyes to hopefully keep the tears in, but even dams fail to keep raging rivers.

His hands find your waist, his forehead resting inbetween your shoulder and neck. You both stay like that for a while. It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep yourself from sobbing. Whaling, even.

You thought it was over. You thought you were okay. That time did heal. And that you broken heart was mending. But it took one look at him to get you right back to that night. And one touch to make it all worse.

“No, Lan” you shake your head, unable to keep yourself from crying anymore.

“We already talked about it. This won’t work and-“

“No! We didn’t! We never talked about how every night it feels like bricks are piling over my heart, crushing me into pieces because I can’t reach out and feel you by my side!” Lando’s voice fills every inch of your apartment. You keep your back to him, hunched over as tears streamed down your face.

“I can’t do this anymore! I’ll do anything. Anything you want, just name it and I’ll do it. I’ll buy it. I’ll be it!” He continues. You feel him coming back to hold you and you don’t move. Instead, you anticipate it. Hoping, praying, begging for it.

“Just please come back to me” he wraps his arms around you from behind, pressing his temple on your wet cheek. You keep crying silently, hoping for a moment of strength so you could reply.

You slowly turn in his arms to face him, holding his face and pressing your forehead to his. You both close your eyes and for a moment it’s like nothing changed. It felt like the many nights you spent loving him over and over again until you were incapable of loving anything else.

“I believe we tried everything, Lan. It’s time to let this go. For good” you somehow manage to say that. He somehow heard you, because he shakes his head slowly, disapproving.

“Yes” you whisper against your wishes. Against all your deepest desires and dreams to be with him forever. To hold his hand and never let go.

“No” his voice breaks and you break beyond breaking with it.

“Please” you breath shakily.

“Don’t make this harder than it already is, Lan” you beg. His arms find their way around you again, his head buries in the crook of your neck. You feel him shake against you. You wrap your arms around him too. Taking him in as if you didn’t have him memorized already.

You both stand there, in each other’s arms, listening, watching, feeling your hearts shatter for the millionth time, cursing your circumstances for tearing you apart. For being too drastically different.

“I love you” Lando mumbles and you smile lightly through your tears, holding him tighter.

“I love you, too”

[myosotisa]

i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

-

There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it. 

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

-

-

-

-

-

thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Amnesia

Prompt: You experience some retrograde amnesia after you and Luke are in a car accident. 

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: car accident, trauma, blood mention

A/N: continuing to repost these :)

The first thing that you notice when you wake up is that your head is throbbing. The pain is worse than that time you and Penelope decided to go bar hopping all night when you were visiting Emily in London. It had taken two whole days for the three of you to recover.  Judging by the way you feel right now, you think it might take a whole lot longer than that to get over whatever you had been up to the night before. 

It takes a moment, but soon, you start to realize that this pain felt like much more than just a bad hangover. Your entire body aches, and when you try to touch the spot on your head that really stung, a sharp pain shoots up your entire right arm, making your eyes open slowly in response. 

Slowly, you take in the room around you, including the IV attached to your arm and the sterile, white walls. Your mouth feels dry, and your body is still in a bed that feels so much different than yours at home. 

When you feel someone touching your arm, you turn your head.

“Rossi..?” You see your coworker looking at you with worry in his eyes and tears that are threatening to spill down his cheeks. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re safe now.”

You don’t know what he’s talking about. Disoriented and confused, your heart starts racing. The beeping from the heart monitor suddenly increases and Rossi quickly scoots forward on the edge of his seat, squeezing your hand and telling you to calm down.   

“What happened?” you ask, your voice shaky and scared. “Why am I here?”

You’re almost afraid to know the answer. 

“You guys were in an accident, in the SUV. It’s okay, you’re okay, and he’s going to be fine…everyone’s alright now.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and try to take some time to process things…an accident… in the SUV. Derek was always the one who insisted on driving. 

“Oh my god…how’s Derek?”

There’s a strange look that flashes across Rossi’s face that you can’t quite read before he gives you an uneasy and forced smile, “He’s fine, everyone’s fine. He’s at home.”

“Oh,” you sigh a breath of relief. “So he wasn’t in the accident with me?”

“No…” Rossi’s voice trails off and his tone indicates that there’s something he’s not telling you.

But you don’t dwell on it. Instead, you think to yourself, Morgan’s okay. He’s fine. And I’m… you look down to your own body and see no visible casts or slings. I’m okay. We’re okay. 

What you didn’t see was the worried look in Rossi’s face, or the way he gently excuses himself to go call the doctor as quickly as he can. 

…

A nurse comes into the room after an hour and gives you some more painkillers.   

“How are you feeling?” she asks as she injects them into your IV line. 

“Tired,” you say. “And my head really hurts.”

She nods. “That’s to be expected from the trauma you endured.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

She looks at you, “You were in a car accident.”

“I know, but like- how’d it happen?”

“I’m not entirely sure- your coworkers can probably tell you more.  But I know there was a car chase, and you ended up getting t-boned on the side of your vehicle. You suffered some head trauma, that’s why it’s taken so long for you to wake up. Probably why you’re a little groggy too. But Mr. Alvez received a few minor injuries. I think they’re starting to stitch him up now.” Just as she finishes administering the drugs, her pager goes off. 

“I’m sorry, I have to run. The doctor should be here soon though to check on you.”

Mr. Alvez. The name sounded vaguely familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. Instead, you just assume he was the one who ran into your car. The nurse hadn’t mentioned anyone else, either, so you can only assume that you were alone in the SUV.. But why would you be chasing an Unsub alone?

Your thoughts are interrupted when Rossi re-enters the room.  Except, he’s not alone. JJ, along with a middle aged female in a white lab coat and dark scrubs trail behind him.  

JJ offers you a small smile before crossing her arms across her chest and standing in the corner of the room with Rossi. They gaze at you cautiously.  

“Glad to see you’re awake,” the doctor says. “I’m Dr. Hall. You’re very lucky that you weren’t seriously injured considering the severity of the accident.” 

She takes a moment to shine a light in your eye, and then again in your ear. She checks the movement in your arms and legs, which only causes a little discomfort at this point. “I need to ask you a few things, just some standard simple questions.”

You nod slowly in agreement. 

“Can you tell me your full name?”

You nod and tell the doctor. 

“Okay, now your date of birth?”  

Again, you answer. 

“What do you remember before the accident?”

“I'm not sure, but..” you stop, feeling a little confused. “The nurse said it happened during work. That I was chasing someone, I can’t quite remember who.”

“Okay, and what do you do for work?”

“Uh,” you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to concentrate despite your fuzzy mind. “I work for the FBI, I’m an agent for the BAU.”

“Good, and who do you work for?” 

“Aaron Hotchner,” you say. 

But something feels wrong when you look up to see the look on JJ and Rossi’s faces. JJ’s got her hand covering her mouth and she won't quite meet your gaze. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach as you watch Rossi inhale and place a comforting hand on JJ’s back. 

Dr. Hall nods slowly at you. “Okay, we’re gonna do some more tests, if you’re up for it now.”

“What’s wrong?” you looked over to Rossi, hoping that he’ll tell you what’s happening. 

Instead, he avoids your gaze. Dr. Hall is the one to speak. “It looks like there might be some retrograde memory issues going on, but we’ll need to do a quick CT just to be sure.”

“Oh my god,” you say, surprised, but also relieved to have an explanation as to why everything feels so foggy. “How much am I forgetting?”

Finally, Rossi speaks. “Morgan left the BAU three years ago,” he explains somberly. “And Hotch left a little over two years ago.”

Your eyes widen in shock. You feel like your heart might have stopped. 

Three years? You’re forgetting the last three years of your life?

You hear the heart monitor start to beep faster again as you fight to remain calm.  

The doctor puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. 

“No need to panic,” she assures you. “This kind of thing happens, and there’s no way to know for sure what we’re looking at here until we get a CT scan, okay? So let’s not fret yet.”

You nod slowly, but can’t quite manage to look over at JJ and Rossi again. 

“My nurse here is going to take you up to get a scan. We’ll review the results when I get them, okay?”

You just nod, because what else are you going to do?

The nurse from earlier comes in with a chair.  After helping you slip into it, you don’t look back to JJ or Rossi before she wheels you out of the room. 

Turns out, the walk to the scanning room was a long one, and you hated awkward silence. So, you bring up your conversation with the nurse from earlier.

“How’s the guy who hit me doing? You said his injuries were less than mine, right?”

She pauses slightly before speaking. “The guy who hit you was arrested by your team, I think,” she says. 

“Mr. Alvez?” you ask, maybe that’s why his name was familiar.  He was the Unsub you were after.

“Mr. Alvez is getting a cut stitched up, yes. But he’s okay.”

 You frown. “I don’t understand, wasn’t Mr. Alvez the guy who hit me?”

The nurse hesitates even longer this time. “Mr. Alvez was driving your vehicle,” she explains.

“What?” You were dumbfounded and tired of everything being so confusing. 

 “Mr. Alvez was driving your vehicle, the black SUV.”

You fall silent. He must be a member of the team. With Hotch and Morgan gone, like Rossi had mentioned, it was obvious you had acquired some new team members. You can't understand why else this Alvez guy would be in the FBI car. Your head starts to hurt from the chaos.  Rather than ask more questions, you let the awkward silence take you the rest of the way to the scanning room. 

…

When you wake up later that day, you smile to see Penelope and Spencer sitting in chairs across the room. Reid has his nose in a book. Finally a familiar sight. 

“Guys,” you exhale a breath of relief. The heaviness in your chest and the throbbing in your head isn’t so bad anymore. Instead you feel safe…because that’s how Garica and Reid always made you feel. 

Spencer looks up from his book, his face breaking out into a huge grin. “Hey, you’re awake!”

“Oh my gosh,” Garcia stands up and hurries closer towards your bed. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to see those beautiful eyes,” she says.  She gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before sitting down in the chair by your bedside.  

Spencer remains standing and asks, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” your eyes wander towards the profiler and you pause. “Your hair is different,” you observe. “It’s so long.”

Reid and Garcia exchange a quick glance before turning back towards you.  Oh yeah, you thought, the missing three years. 

“Apparently I’ve lost my memory,” you laugh dryly, attempting to joke at the awkward situation. 

“So I heard,” Spencer says uneasily, his lips pressed tightly together. 

“It’s a shame I still remember your face though.” 

That remark seems to bring Spencer’s electrifying smile back. It was even enough to get a small laugh out of him. 

“So, does anyone have the highlights from the past three years?”

The smile that’s been lingering on your lips slightly fades as you realize how much you didn’t know, so much you were missing out on. 

“Who took Hotch’s place?” you ask. 

Garcia jumps in.  “Oh, that’s good news. Emily!”

Your jaw almost drops to the floor. “Emily? Our Emily?”

Garcia nods frantically, her red lips smiling excitedly. “She came back from London to help out when she found out we were down a man, and when Hotch left, they made her Unit Chief.” 

“Wow. That’s incredible, that’s such good news.” 

It’s making your head feel heavy, trying to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of your own life. You continue to play 20 questions with them until there’s a faint knocking sound at your door.  

You turn to see some familiar and some unfamiliar faces entering the room. 

The first you see is Emily. She looks almost exactly the same, which is comforting. Then there’s JJ and Rossi and Tara, who you’re relieved to recognize. But two unfamiliar men walk into the room.  They file towards the back. You try not to focus on them, because it made you uneasy. How could there be two members of your team- that you may have known for as long as three years- that you just don’t recognize? 

You try focusing on the members of your team that you did know instead. It brings you an infinite amount of more comfort.   

“How’re you doing?” Emily asks sympathetically. “We all couldn’t wait to check up on you.”

“I’m okay,” you tell her nodding, even though everyone in that room knew it was far from the truth.

“Have you gotten your CT scan results back yet?” JJ wonders.

You shake your head. “Not yet, the nurse said the doctor would be in soon, though. I guess he was finishing up a surgery.”

You can’t help but glance towards the back of the room towards the unfamiliar members of your team after a few moments. One is standing with his arms crossed, but a similarly sympathetic smile on his face as the rest of your team was wearing. But the other, with dark, curly hair and tanned skin, is staring down at the ground. He won’t meet your gaze. He has a bandage on the left side of his forehead that he keeps itching at. 

Why can't you place him?

It’s awkward and uncomfortable with the team. Something that makes you feel very uneasy, because that’s not how you remember things being at the BAU. This is your family, so why can't you wait for them to leave?

After exchanging pleasantries and promises to visit soon, the majority of the team finally started to file out of your room. 

You wave goodbye to them as they left, realizing that no one introduced you to the two unfamiliar men. You assume that they didn’t want to overwhelm you. But as soon as it was just you, Spencer, and Garcia again, you let your curiosity peak.

“Okay, who were those two guys, in the back there?” you point to where they were standing. 

“That was Matt Simmons and Luke Alvez,” Spencer explains nervously. “They’re part of the team. 

“Alvez!” you remember the name from earlier. “The nurse told me he was driving- Was he the one with the bandage?”

Spencer and Garcia exchange another nervous glance, as if they’ve been waiting for this question all along. But you can read their faces like a book, and you see the way their faces fall.

They both nod slowly. 

“Yeah.” Spencer nods. “Yeah, that was Luke. And you’re right, he was driving the SUV.” 

“Who is he?” There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you can’t quite place.

“He took over for Morgan when he left. So he joined the team a little under three years ago.” Reid explains cautiously. 

But Garcia gives a strange look, like there was something they knew that you didn’t.  

“What is it?” you ask them. You can't stand the fact that you don't know half of what was going on. 

Penelope sighs and when she speaks her voice is shaky.

“He- he is a member of the team,” she explains. “But you've also been dating him for the past two years.”

…

Luke’s gripping at his hair harshly as he paces through the halls of the hospital.  

“She has no clue-” he exclaims frustratedly. "No clue who I am.”

The truth is that he had been overly anxious to get to your room ever since arriving at the hospital. He pleaded with the doctor who was stitching up his forehead to hurry up. He needed to make sure you were okay.  

Even when a somber-looking Rossi had entered his room earlier in the day and told him you were experiencing some memory loss, he still felt like he needed to see you.  

“She didn’t remember that Emily took over for Hotch,” JJ explained to the team, all huddled in Luke’s room. “Or anything after Morgan left.” Her gaze wanders towards Luke. 

“Meaning she doesn’t remember me?” Luke had asked, wincing as the nurse continued to stitch up his wound from the accident. 

JJ bit her lip before looking to Rossi to answer his question. 

“We don’t think so,” Rossi declared. 

Luke had nodded slowly. “But we don’t know for sure? I mean they haven’t done any tests or anything?”

“They’re doing a CT scan now, I guess to see what’s really going on,” JJ had folded her arms across her chest tightly. 

Luke nodded, his hopes not faltering. He’d be what made her remember everything. One look- and all the memories would come back. Because their love wasn’t something you could just forget.  

“Just give her space, okay?” Rossi urged, he was the only thing blocking Luke from bursting through your door. “Try not to overwhelm her.”

“Yeah, okay,” Luke said without realizing what he was even promising. Because he knew that as soon as you saw him, this whole nightmare would be behind them.  

But when he did finally walk through the door to your room and your eyes didn’t immediately light up, Luke’s hopes started to quickly fall. 

In fact, you didn’t look at him at all. He bit his lip, trying not to give way to the fact that his entire world was coming crashing down around him while you told Emily that you were feeling okay. He found a spot on the floor to focus on, a single piece of dirt, or something, from somebody’s shoes remained the focal point of his gaze throughout the entire visit.  

What he wanted to do was charge your bed- wrap his arms around you and tell you how much he loved you. He wanted to say he was sorry for not avoiding the Unsub’s car- wanted to apologize over and over again until he was blue in the face. But he couldn’t do that.  Because you had no idea who he was. 

It isn't until he's out of your room and back in the hallway that he realizes he’s been holding his breath. Luke exhales sharply, panic setting in. 

Emily tries to calm him down by saying, “She might get all those memories back, Luke.”

“But she might not,” he admits, pulling even harder at the strands of his hair. 

“We don’t know that yet,” Tara reassures him.  “Oftentimes, amnesia after an accident is only temporary.”

“Okay,” he says, “Okay, but what if she doesn’t? What if I’m a stranger to her?”

Rossi steps forward this time, and grabs Luke by the shoulders. He has a stern look on his face while he lectures Luke. “Then we deal with it then,” he says. “But until then, you have to be strong for her, okay? Because she’s scared and she’s confused and she needs you to be strong.”

Luke nods as he slowly starts to come down from his panicked state.  He takes a couple of deep breaths. “Okay,” he agrees.  

…

The sun is shining outside and the little rays that escape through the blinds on the window illuminate your room when you hear the door rattle.

The door opens a second later and Garcia peeks her head in. “Hi, you’re awake!” She doesn’t open the door all the way, which makes you look questioningly at her. 

“What’s up?” you ask. 

She looks at you hesitantly. “You have some people to introduce you to. If you’re up for it.” She says it like a question, and you want to say no, but there’s something about the way Garcia looks, her normally bright, vibrant self looking dull and tired, that makes you agree. 

You wonder if talking to Luke and Matt will help trigger your memory. So you give Garcia a little nod, who looks at you smiling before opening the door all the way to reveal the two men who are waiting in the hall.

Matt walks in first. He’s got a sharp jaw that’s clean shaven and a tattoo poking out from the sleeve of his T-shirt. His hands are tucked into a pair of jeans that look slightly worn. There’s warmth in his dark eyes, and a comforting smile on his face as he looks at you.

The guy that comes in behind him is Luke. He has a head of thick, curly hair, and a pair of brown eyes that pop. He’s wearing a dark maroon shirt that clings to his biceps and makes his tanned skin look even darker. There’s something sad about the way his face is mixed with both exhaustion and sorrow. He looks like he needs a good night of sleep. 

“Hey,” Matt speaks first, and you can’t help but mirror the smile that’s greeting him. “I’m Matt.”

You look at both of them intently, trying to feel something, anything…but it only makes your head feel foggier.  

“I guess this is probably pretty weird for you guys, huh?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood. “Introducing yourself to someone you already know.”

Luke offers you the slightest smile, but it’s laced with dejection. 

“I’m sorry…” your face drops and Luke’s body goes tense. “I can’t remember you guys.” You look down at your hands because you can’t stand to look at them. You hate the disappointment you’ve caused on their faces.

“It’s okay, you’ve been through a lot, I’m sure it’ll come back to you eventually.” You look up to see it's Luke speaking for the first time. He’s got a warm, reassuring smile replacing the old disgruntled look and it instantly lifts your spirits. For a moment, you find yourself thinking, yeah, I can see why I had you in my life.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence for a moment, and you realize that you’re not entirely sure what to say. 

You want to be polite, and you want to give them both a chance, because at one point you obviously knew them well.

But when you look at them, you don’t see your team members. You don’t see your boyfriend. You just see strangers. 

… 

Dr. Hall comes in that evening to discuss your CT scan. You’re relieved that it’s only you and Emily in the room at the time that she arrives. 

“See that area there?” she asks, pointing to a mark on the screen she was showing you. “That indicates damage to the hippocampus.  That’s the primary memory storage site of your brain, so it’s no wonder why you’re experiencing what we call retrograde amnesia.”

The words she speak sound foreign, and while you did everything you could to understand, all you cared about was one thing.

“Will I get my memories back?” you ask. 

Dr. Hall scooted back in her chair and took off her black rimmed glasses. “Some people do,” she nods. “But some don’t. The good news is that the damage to your hippocampus is relatively minor. So much so that we missed it in our original MRI scan.”

You nod slowly. “So there’s a chance then?”

“There’s a chance. But even if it doesn't, the chunk that you’re missing is relatively small in the grand scheme of things. So even if you don’t get your old memories back, you do have the ability to create new ones.”

…

“Do me and Luke live together?” you ask Penelope in the car. You had been released from the hospital that day and the question popped into your head suddenly while you were on your way home. 

She nods, her grip tight on the steering wheel. “Yes, but he’s going to stay with Rossi for now. He didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You sigh a breath of relief. 

Garcia gently pushes the door open to your house that you don’t recognize. You take a deep breath to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. You’re uneasy, but there’s an odd sense of familiarity that settles in your stomach despite not knowing what to expect.

The entrance opens up to an open living room where the gray curtains are drawn open, the light coming in from the windows shined bright against the furniture. 

There are shoes lined up neatly next to the door. A few pairs of sneakers lie next to a pair of giant boots that you know must be Luke’s. 

You recognize some of the furniture. Like the rocking chair your mother gave you, and the homemade blanket. The more you recognize, the more at ease you felt.   

The warmth only spread when you walked over to the coffee table to find a copy of your favorite book left out. 

That’s when you notice that there are so many photos. Some hang on the walls and some are in frames placed around the shelves and tables.

One in particular captures your attention, and as you draw nearer, you feel like the wind has been knocked out of your lungs. It’s a picture of you and Luke, he has his arm around you and is wearing a huge, ear-to-ear grin as he stares into the camera lens. You, on the other hand, are looking up at him, a similar smile on your face. 

You steady yourself against the wall, but suddenly feel like you’re having an out of body experience, your surroundings blurring out and Luke’s voice ringing in your head.

“I’m not gonna drop your phone, don’t worry-”

“Just do a selfie, that isn’t going to hold my phone, it’s going to fall!”

“This will look so much better than a selfie, trust me! Look, steady as ever, this branch is coming through for us-”

“Looks more like a twig to me-” 

You’re squeezing your eyes shut but all you can see is Luke rushing towards you to beat the self timer on your phone, his smile wide.

Your eyes snapped open as Garcia entered the living room to announce, “I put your suitcase upstairs- what’s wrong?” she asks when she sees your frazzled state. 

“Nothing,” you lie. You don't want to get her hopes up by telling her you think you just remembered something, so instead you say, “Just tired.”

“Oh, okay. Well let me get out of your hair then, so that you can rest.”

You nod, but all you can think of is getting your hands on some more photos. 

After wandering upstairs, you seem to know just where to look to find a photo album stashed away. You open the binder to find countless pictures. You flip through them eagerly, until one a few pages deep catches your eye. 

It’s another photo of you and Luke- this time you’re both looking into the camera. He has his arm around your shoulder and you’re pulling yourself into his side, your arm stretched across his stomach. Your head is resting comfortably on his chest and the closer you look, you realize that there’s tears in your eyes. 

Suddenly, Luke’s voice pops back into your head. 

“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I knew it was going to make you this upset-”

“I’m not upset, I’m- so.. so happy.”

“Happy. As in, yes, you’ll go out with me?”

“Of course I will.”

It’s like the floodgates open and suddenly, an influx of memories and information come pouring into your mind. You feel dizzy as you sort through them, wondering if any of this could be real.  

When you look back down at the photos beneath you, your eyes narrow in on Luke.   

You can’t help the sudden rush of tears that come streaming down your face when you realize that Luke’s no longer a stranger.  

…

You take a deep breath, trying to gather courage before pressing the call button on your phone. It seems strange to you that just a few hours prior, you didn’t even feel comfortable having small talk with Luke, but now, with your memories coming back, he was the first person you wanted to tell.  

The phone rings once before his warm, now familiar, voice answers on the other line. 

“Hey,” he greets. 

You exhale sharply before whispering a soft, “Hi.”

“Is everything okay?” he asks, concern evident in his tone. 

You nod, before realizing he can’t see you. “Yeah,” you say through the tears streaming down your face. “Yeah, can you- can you come home?”

After a brief moment of silence you add, “Please.”

You hear stirring on the other line, like Luke was moving around. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammers. “Yeah, I’ll be there in 10.”

After you hang up the phone, you continue flipping through photos as you wait for Luke. The memories come back to you faster and faster. It’s a relief, but it’s also exhausting.  

Only when you hear the front door of your house open and close do you tear yourself away from the photos. You shut the book and hastily run downstairs, eager to see Luke.  

The Luke you see in your memories and pictures around the house is different than the one standing in front of you now. The Luke you now remember has skin the color of caramel and eyes so warm the sun would be jealous. But this Luke looks flushed and exhausted, with dark circles encasing his eyes.

“Luke..” you say softly, your voice coming out in a whisper, as if saying his name would take all your memories away again.

He looks frazzled and worried, but you make your way to him slowly. 

“What’s wrong?” he frets, looking at you wildly.

You feel bad to have worried him into such a state. “Nothing-” you manage to get out. “I-I-” You’re so taken aback by just knowing who he is, that it’s hard to speak. 

But Luke’s face softens, and when he comes to the conclusion that you must have called him over here for another reason, his eyes widen. “Do you- are you remembering things?” 

Your face breaks out into a large, relieved smile, despite the tears still falling down your cheeks. You’re afraid that if you speak, you might just sob forever, so instead you nod frantically. 

“Oh my god,” Luke gasps before crossing the room in just two, large strides. He wastes no time before wrapping his arms around your body tightly. He lifts your feet off the ground, his face getting buried in the nape of your neck while he spins you around. “Oh my god,” he repeats, followed by a little chuckle. 

You breath in his comforting scent, wondering how you went so long without craving his touch. 

“I remember-” you choke out. “I remember now.”

Luke lifts both of his hands and cups your face, and you can see tears in Luke’s eyes. “God, I’m so sorry,” he tells you. “I’m so sorry I let you get hurt.”

But you’re shaking your head. “It’s not your fault, Luke.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his lips pressed tightly together like he’s trying to find his own words. 

“I thought I’d lost you,” he finally says. “First when you were unconscious at the scene, but again when you didn’t know who I was.” He takes a slow, unsteady breath. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever remember.”

He leans his forehead to rest against yours, his thumb gently rubbing against your cheek, it grazes the corner of your mouth before he leans down, wanting nothing more than to press his lips against yours, to remind you about what the two of you had together. 

When he finally pulls away, you’re breathless and wide-eyed. 

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he whispers. 

You nod and ignore all the thoughts and fears that are racing through your mind, and instead close the gap between you and Luke once again.

Luke tastes like mint and coffee, he smells like citrus, and he’s warm like a hot, summer day.

Luke feels like home. 

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts

Ch.26 (Red Dragon)

THEY'RE. SO. DANG. CUTE.

Damn these kids. I also love the fact that Falin has different hair as a child. Kids never changing their hairstyle as they grow into adults is such a storytelling pet peeve of mine.

Also: Laios at his most rambunctious? You mean now? Currently?

This man saw his son and daughter outside for half a second and already somehow knew they were up to shenanigans.

Oh no, he grabbed the wrong hand! How embarrassing. Hate it when that happens.

Bro, he's like 10, you need to find a better person to yell at.

That was solid. A konk on the head that came straight from the heart. The kind only a sibling can give.

.....th-thank you, pokedex junior...?

I would be thrilled if my kid knew how to ward off the undead! Well... I guess maybe thrilled is the wrong word for it.... There are certainly some complications to consider.

He's so cute. He's such a good brother!

HEY, THAT'S ILLEGAL.

Now that you mention it, healing magic stitching entire wounds closed so quickly would probably generate not only a lot of strain, but also heat, and also an insane amount of... well, if not pain, then at least itching on par with pain. That's SO MUCH REGROWTH.

Gotta give it to Marcille, she ain't bitching about things being weird now. Girl's FOCUSED.

Horrifyingly simple. I love it.

He really is just going to CoolAid man his way in there, huh.

But seriously, they're just walking on it! How are they slicing so cleanly? What about bones? They can just... what... cut between the ribs? What about the peritoneum or whatever? If they cut enough of that, wouldn't the innards start spilling out?

So Falin either wasn't eaten or... was already digested......but why would it be COMPLETELY empty?

It's not rested in THAT long... AND it fried up a bunch of Worgs and didn't eat them, now that I think of it. What's the use of killing prey and not consuming it, for a creature that has such a high caloric need?

Laios, mate, you good? Marcille is having an understandably stronger reaction to losing Falin but you're just... coping I guess?

You know, as someone familiar with ttrpgs this line of reasoning is solid. Resurrection spells need materials from the body to be effective. But to anyone else, this MUST be creepy as hell, right? Or am I overthinking?

................how do you even begin to come to terms with a death if there's nothing too big to come back from?

How is it that it's only NOW that I'm thinking of it?

[yuesya]

Because i like to make myself and others suffer, what would yuzuki’s (heian or otherwise) reaction to be to shiki busting down the door, an inch from death after a throwdown with sukuna, killing his illness and then peacing out of life?

(I am in a very specific mood rn)

"-wait! Need to... bleeding..."

"Please... listen... going? No, you-"

"... Shiki-sama... Shiki-sama! What are you-"

...

Yuzuki wakes up.

The latticed frame of the ceiling is a familiar sight, as is the scent of bitter herbs permeating the room. Bitter herbs, mixed with the distinct tang of blood. Yuzuki is used to it. He's used to all of this.

What he's not used to, however, is the lack of pain in his chest. Yuzuki breathes in, and is surprised when it doesn't feel like there are a thousand needles stabbing into him, perforating his lungs and shredding his throat. He breathes, in and out, and it's easy.

His limbs feel light, and the ever-present headache perpetually pounding away at his skull is... gone. Gone, entirely.

"Yuzuki."

He looks up at the call of his name, and feels cold horror grip his heart.

"My lady!"

Long white hair, dirtied with blood and god-knows what else. There are gaping slashes where his lady-wife's body hangs open, revealing flesh and sinew to the air. Yuzuki can only look on with wide eyes as the injured woman lifts the knife in her hands -as if she is about to swing down and cut into him, and Yuzuki would gladly let her if that was what she desired- and throws it aside with a loud clatter.

Then, she leans forward and rests her head on his lap, directly atop his blankets.

"Please rise, my lady," Yuzuki doesn't know where to put his hands. There's so much blood everywhere, and if she's unable to heal herself, then-! "You need to be treated for these injuries! Allow me to call the clan's healers, my lady-"

"Shiki."

Yuzuki startles at the nonsensical interruption, "What?"

"Shiki," his lady-wife repeats, rolling over to peer up at him through long, lidded lashes. Even despite the blood and severity of her injuries, Yuzuki feels his heart skip a beat. "It's 'Shiki.' You never call me that, even though I told you to so many times before."

"It wouldn't be appropriate." Yuzuki was just a sickly, lowly member of the Gojo Clan. Gojo Shiki-sama, on the other hand, was the clan's pride and joy. He was unworthy of her attentions, unworthy of her regard, and unworthy of-

"You always divert things, too. Always so concerned about how others see us," the young woman in his lap sighs. "Why do they matter? Don't you love me?"

"... I do." How could he possibly not?

"Then say it to me," she commands. "Say it. 'Shiki, you're beautiful.' 'Shiki, I want to kiss you.' 'Shiki, you're my one and only.'

... 'Shiki, I love you.'"

Yuzuki feels his lips curving into a helpless smile, "How demanding, my lady."

Her eyes droop, and slowly flutter to a close.

"You're so cruel, Yuzuki," she whispers.

...

(Yuzuki does not realize it, at the time. That Shiki's eyes would close, and never open again. That she'd expended the last of her energy in somehow healing him in her last moments, instead of caring for herself. After doing battle with the King of Curses, she'd died in his arms and he... he...

...

... when a sorcerer with a line of stitches sewn across his forehead approaches him, speaking of reincarnation, Yuzuki knows that the sorcerer has his own agenda. He knows that this sorcerer had been involved with Ryomen Sukuna, knows that he'd been responsible for numerous atrocities and tragedies...

But even so, Yuzuki does not have the strength to refuse him.)

[fandumb-whimsey]

Scarecrow Leg Observations/Headcanons

aka I thought about it too much and now it's everyone else's problem.

(important note: I am not in the medical field and I learned/looked up a lot of this with the help of Dr. Google)

The leg brace seems like a simple detail which can be overlooked in the larger design. On the surface, it's pretty straight forward: leg got damaged and now needs an orthopedic brace to function. This in and of itself is interesting since the artist undoubtedly referenced actual braces, specifically old ones, to fit Scarecrow's aesthetic:

This is a running theme with him; he seems to favor old, antique items and will repair things (like the use of duct tape or zigzag stitching for tears on his costume) before replacing them, which fits an image of someone coming from a background of poverty. Not entirely important to the conversation, just an interesting aside.

There is official material which states his leg is "permanently broken", which is probably the easiest, most succinct way to state this issue, but it's not entirely an accurate way to put it. If a leg is considered broken beyond repair, it's likely to be amputated. Bones which don't heal correctly the first time can be broken again and realigned to heal properly, often through surgery with the use of pins, rods, plates, and/or screws. However, "permanently broken" could also be implying he has suffered irreparable nerve damage which affects the use of the leg (more on that in a moment). One possibility: The bones in Scarecrow's leg do not heal properly due to the severity of his fractures likely needing surgery. Unable to access such resources after his run-in with Croc, this results in a malunion. In his case, the misalignment could be subtle as there is no obvious bend or twist in his leg, but still causes problems which requires use of a brace.

Another possibility: Perhaps he is lucky and his leg does heal well. Maybe there's no malunion at all. Unfortunately, whether the bones mend together well or not, evidence strongly implies that it was broken seriously enough that it damaged his peroneal nerve, leading to muscle weakness and foot drop, which necessitates the use of the brace to function.

If you look closely, you can see there is additional support around Scarecrow's ankle that would otherwise prevent rotation of that joint. You can see this in the game when he circles Batman on the airship:

When he takes a step with his good leg, the foot remains more parallel to the floor. Compare that to the foot in the brace, where the toes point upward with each stride due to being in a fixed position. I feel this is a strong indication of him having lasting damage here (such as foot drop) and part of why the leg brace is vital to his mobility (and undoubtedly one of many reasons why he's so furious at Batman).

Something like this often has trickle down effects. Having to compensate for a weaker limb can throw the body off balance, especially if it's a leg. This can create joint and back pain outside of (or in addition to) the issues related to the initial trauma. Combined with the other things he has had to deal with, there is something to be said of Scarecrow's tenacity. He is very driven and ambitious, even if it's the pure, seething drive for vengeance which causes him to persevere. It's a quality one can admire. :)

The rambling ends here, thanks for reading. And an extra big thanks to a very special someone who, without their help, none of this would be possible...I'm of course talking about my guy KILLER CROC for going absolutely feral in those Asylum sewers, really gave Jonny here a spooky glow-up, am I right?

Pictured: Scarecrow regretting his fear toxin frivolity into the sewers.

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name ch.4

You can read it on AO3!

If you prefer tumblr: Chapter 1 can be found here. Chapter 2 can be found here. Chapter 3 can be found here.

--

Danny couldn't stop thinking about Tim's questions about where he was from.

A big part of him hadn't wanted to tell the truth, but a bigger part hadn't wanted to lie.

When they—he, Sam, and Tucker—had crafted his new identity they had decided to keep Danny's hometown as Amity Park because it was easier not to slip up if he had fewer lies to keep track of. And Danny already had more than enough of those.

They had banked on Amity being a small enough town that no one would recognize it, and more importantly; not recognize him.

But of course people would ask about his past, it was a normal thing to do between friends. Right? There was no reason to panic. 

Danny just had to become better at quelling the panic and remember the lies so that no one got suspicious and figured him out.

Sadly—or thankfully?—he didn't have time to dwell on the fact that his one and only new friendship was one wrong question away from crumbling, not now when ghosts had started appearing in Gotham.

So far he had been able to avoid getting dragged back into the fighting by threatening most of the ghosts that had shown up to leave him, and the city, alone. Several years of fighting had, if nothing else, made sure that most ghosts at least listened to him.

Which was good since Gotham’s own vigilantes arrived quickly at almost every scene and Danny didn’t want to risk using his ghostly abilities too much and reveal himself, or—even worse—bring his parents here.

That wasn't to say that he was ready to fight if he had to, because he absolutely wasn't. He wasn't even sure he could fight right now with how his body felt.

At first he had chalked it up to a side effect of his massive growth spurt, especially since he very much doubted that it was of a normal, human origin. What with the late and sudden onset, the unnatural speed with which he had shot up and filled out, and considering his increasingly otherworldly appearance it probably had a ghostly origin.

But he doubted that it was the root-cause of his sickness since he had stopped growing, but was only feeling worse.

Maybe his sickness was a side effect of getting his arm removed under such traumatic circumstances. Maybe it was some sort of infection. 

He had almost gotten used to the alarming looks his sudden dizziness earned him and his staggering runs to the bathroom to throw up—what felt like—all his insides. His constant joint pain that wasn't helped by his cobbled together prosthetic arm. His headaches and his too-green nosebleeds.

Because of the whole on the run and living on the streets thing he had been trying out for the last few months, he hadn't exactly had the funds nor opportunity to go to a doctor and have the arm checked out and his own experiences and conversations over the phone with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz only got him so far. 

Now, he did have a job and an apartment but he really didn’t want to risk having to answer any hard questions on just how he managed to lose an entire arm and why he had then proceeded to quite obviously cauterize and stitch it up himself.

Of course, Danny knew one other person with a prosthetic arm and Frostbite had never withheld information from him, but he hadn't had a chance to meet up with the yeti again now that he had first-hand experience.

Whatever caused it, the fact of the matter was that Danny felt like shit and that he was happy he hadn't had to fight anyone lately. But with the number of ghost sightings rising every week, his luck might not last. He didn’t know why ghosts had started to appear in Gotham, but he wasn’t naïve enough to think he didn’t have anything to do with it. And if ghosts had started showing up in town because of him , then it was his responsibility to deal with them. 

History loves repeating itself.

Danny was currently busy coughing up a lung and trying not to let any of the ectoplasm that dribbled out of his mouth stain his clothes, all the while debating whether it was worth the trouble to stagger the rest of the way to the convenience store for his dinner, when he felt the all-too-familiar sensation of cold clawing its way up his throat and escaping through his gritted teeth.

Great.

And that was all he had time to think before he was body-slammed to the ground.

Danny tried to twist in the air, to get out from underneath whoever had attacked him, but large hands grabbed his shoulders and slammed him into the pavement. His face pressed against the rough ground and Danny instinctively raised a hand, ectoplasm building beneath his skin and ready to burst forth, before stopping himself and remembering his human disguise, that he couldn’t fight enemies openly anymore. Not as Dante Armstrong, regular dude, and definitely not as Phantom, his parents no.1 target.

Danny twisted enough under the weight pinning him down to glimpse Skulker grinning down at him with a victorious smile. He wasn’t surprised.

“What are you doing here, Skulker?” Danny gritted out.

“If you thought you could escape me by coming here, then you're dead wrong. I'll hunt you down wherever you go, little whelp.” Skulker grinned down at him with fire in his eyes as his hands tightened on Danny's shoulders until the grip went from uncomfortable to painful.

Ancients, Danny itched to blast the bastard right off him and into the nearest building. He had enough to deal with as it was without someone trying to skin him alive but there were people around, staring at them and screaming. Of course there was. He couldn't very well yell “ going ghost!” and expect no one to see him.

Despite what Jazz always said, he had learnt some things over the years.

But that didn’t mean that he would just lie here helplessly. He tried to buck the other ghost off with just a touch of super-strength, hoping no one saw anything out of the ordinary. If so; Danny would just have to find a new town to live in. It was okay. Really. The thought didn’t make him want to cry or anything.

Skulker growled and Danny decided to try the same approach he had used in most ghost attacks in Gotham. Talking to them. Jazz would be so proud. Even if the talking in question was more akin to threatening .

Danny made sure his fangs were on full display as he growled, “If you don't get off me right now I'll tear open that flimsy tin-can you call a body and drag you screaming out of your own mouth.”

Skulker paused. They had fought enough times for him to know that they weren't just empty words. Most ghosts just needed a little reminder.

Maybe not a preferred way of conflict resolution from a human standpoint, but far from mindless. Just another thing his parents had been wrong about.

Danny consciously flashed his eyes and Skulker immediately jumped back. As he staggered to his feet, Danny gasped as he tried to force the ectoplasm back down.

That short release of energy almost startled Danny from how good it felt. Like releasing some of the pressure on an over-pressurized pot. He had to wrestle back control not to let out any more than he already had, but he couldn’t risk doing that in the middle of the street.

But Ancients, he wanted to. For the first time in months, his headache lifted slightly.

He breathed deep to get himself back under control and lifted his prosthetic arm, as if aiming it at Skulker. “You're not the only one with inbuilt weapons anymore. You want to see what the weapon that took my arm would do to a full ghost?”

It was an empty threat, of course. Danny would never again go anywhere near that weapon if he could help it, much less carry it around, and he had absolutely no idea if it would be more or less dangerous to a full ghost. But Skulker didn’t know that.

“This isn’t over, whelp,” Skulker threatened as he floated backwards, eyes blazing. “I’ll get you eventually!”

“You’ve said that for years, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“You won’t see me coming.”

“I’m shaking in my boots,” Danny deadpanned. Then he gestured with his arm, hoping that Skulker wouldn't see the way it was, in fact, shaking. “Now run along.”

Skulker swore and growled and grumbled, but he did turn invisible and fly away.

Danny felt his shoulders relax as his presence disappeared and he unsteadily lowered his arm back down, wincing at the pain radiating through his shoulder and back. He had been lucky; he didn’t know if he would have been able to actually win a fight with Skulker right then because of how bad he felt. Finally, he could go— 

And then Batman stood in front of him, as sudden and silent as any ghost.

Danny blinked in surprise as his brain automatically assessed the danger of the man in front of him; his multiple weapons tucked into his belt, his broad frame and muscular limbs, his sharp gaze fixed on Danny. Really, he was a lot more intimidating up close than he had been from the other side of the street, which was as close as Danny had gotten during the other ghost attacks.

Then he realized that he really should be trying to convince Batman that he was just an innocent civilian and definitely not involved with ghosts in any way, no sire.

Danny made his best impression of being scared and grateful for rescue, drawing from years of experience of being on the receiving end of it. “Oh, Batman! Thank you for saving me! I was so scared!”

Batman stared at where Skulker had been just a moment before for a few tense seconds before turning the full force of his attention towards Danny. And Danny froze, rooted to the ground, more scared now than he had been facing off against Skulker.

Batman kept his eyes on Danny, silent, but then Red Robin suddenly appeared at his side. Maybe being silent as ghosts were a prerequisite for being a vigilante.

Red Robin had a kinder look on his face than his colleague as he asked, “Are you hurt?”

“I—I don't think so. I don’t—” Danny didn’t have to fake the trembling of his limbs. “I don’t know what happened. Suddenly he just—”

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Red Robin said with practiced patience. “What’s your name?”

“It—It's Dante.”

“Alright, Danny, can you tell us what happened?” Red Robin asked and Danny fought hard not to flinch at the use of his nickname. That made two people who had immediately defaulted to Danny –Red Robin and Tim. He was going to kill Tucker.

Batman, apparently fed up with the niceties, glanced down at Danny's arm and asked, “What did you do to make the ghost leave?”

And wow, Danny was tempted to offer him a cough drop, speaking in such a growly voice couldn’t be good for you. He just shook his head, forcing his eyes to water—thank you Maddie and Jack for teaching him that skill, who knew that having to hide everything from his parents would make him really good at acting scared—as he stammered out a pathetic, “I—I don't know. I just tried to keep him away and—and I don't know.”

He really hoped that him threatening Skulker with his arm could be interpreted as him raising his hand to defend himself at a distance. 

“What did it say?” Batman pressed, no hint of sympathy in his voice.

Danny shook his head. “Nothing that made any sense.”

Batman looked at him in what Danny thought was disapproving silence before Red Robin jumped in again, attempting to smooth everything over. “Go easy on him. He looks scared out of his mind,” Red Robin said with clear sympathy in his voice.

And Danny was. Just not of the ghosts like they assumed. He was scared of them . Ghosts, he was used to, but the two people in front of him were the ones that could drive him out of his new home.

But Danny nodded intensely and put on his most terrified voice as he said, “I thought I was a goner! The ghost could have really hurt me!”

“So you do know about—” Red Robin started before cutting himself off.

“How do you know it was a ghost?” Batman asked as he sent Red Robin a glare and he stepped back, letting Batman take over.

Fuck, fuckity-fuck. He had wanted to stay as far away from Batman's radar as possible, not suddenly be the sole focus of his attention.

What if they found him out? What if they too decided that all ghosts were evil?…What if they also decided that they wanted to try and cure him?

“I—I don’t—” Danny stammered out, desperately trying to come up with a good excuse. He was a ghost fanatic? Too close to home. He had been hunted by the ghost in question for years because it wanted to skin him? No one would believe it. He was a half-dead hero fighting ghosts since his early teens? Great response if he wanted to be thrown into Arkham. Instead he landed on a very meek, “I watch the news?”

Batman didn’t even hesitate before firing off the next question, “I’ve seen you before. At these ghost-attacks. What were you doing there?”

Danny tensed up. Of course Batman had noticed him and put two-and-two together. He was the world’s greatest detective.

Then Batman continued, voice just as gruff as before, “Why haven’t you told anyone if they’re attacking you?”

Or not.

He thought that the ghosts were there to attack Danny? It wasn’t completely wrong, even if Danny generally was the one attacking them to stop them from attacking others. Still, it was… nice that people didn’t automatically assume that he was the bad guy. Danny cleared his throat and looked away. “I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”

“That didn’t really work out, did it?”

Red Robin had apparently had enough of being sidelined, which was kind of funny for a sidekick, and stepped back into the conversation, “It’s not his fault he was attacked. Stop grilling him.”

Danny wanted to agree, but apparently his throat had other ideas as it chose that moment to seize up and cause him to double over again, coughing until he winced in pain.

Red Robin placed a careful hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Batman’s gruff voice spoke up, “So you were hurt.”

“Yes,” Danny managed after a few deep breaths, ignoring how raspy his voice sounded. “Or, no. But it wasn't because of this.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Red Robin asked and if the concern in his voice was fake, he was even better than Danny.

Danny shook his head. “No, no, I need to go. I have a meeting with a friend and I’m already late.”

Red Robin withdrew his hand, sounding suddenly hesitant, almost guilty, as he said, “I’m sure they'd understand.”

Batman inserted himself into the conversation again with a, “We might need to get in contact with you to ask some further questions. What is your number?”

Red Robin rolled his eyes, and the fact that Danny could tell even behind the mask was a testament of just how often he must do it. “What he means is; Can you give us a number we can reach you at?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “Do I get any in return?”

“No,” Batman immediately answered. Red Robin had no translation for that, just an apologetic shrug.

Danny let out a barking laugh. “At least you're honest.” So he rattled off his number and then scampered off, refusing to look over his shoulder but feeling eyes on his back the whole time until he turned a corner. 

He let himself slump against a wall, shaking legs barely holding him upright. Somehow he had survived. Still, he had thought he had gotten away from everything that had to do with ghosts. But now everyone here was asking him about them; Tim and Batman both.

He couldn’t afford any more slip-ups.

--

Danny dragged himself into work the next day, late and tired after his unplanned run-in with Skulker and subsequent meeting with Batman and Red Robin. To top off the whole evening Tim hadn’t even showed for their planned game-night, which might have been just as well since Danny had barely managed to get home before collapsing in bed.

After the short reprieve he felt after his confrontation with Skulker, stuffing all his ectoplasm back down felt even harder than before. It was as if that short, sweet, taste of freedom had made his body rebel even worse. The headache had come back with a vengeance and he held a handkerchief to his nose to stop the constant dripping, which alarmingly had started to turn more and more green. His joints hurt worse than right after the accident and if he wasn’t deathly afraid of losing his hard-earned job he would have stayed home and wallowed in his misery.

As it was, the walk to work hadn’t been easy with his whole body hurting even more than it usually did nowadays, even though he had left his prosthesis at home for the day.

When he finally stumbled through the door he was sweating, trembling, and wishing he had just caved and called in sick.

His misery and wallowing was interrupted when Tim poked his head into the room. “Hey, Danny, do you have time to take a look at something?”

Danny straightened up and plastered a smile on his face, hiding the paper he had been using to try and stem the blood dripping from his nose. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

“I have a project that I need another pair of eyes on.” 

Danny sent his boss, an older woman named Hannah, a questioning look, but she simply stared at Tim with wide eyes and then gave Danny a nod. 

For some reason, his boss never seemed to mind when Danny went to help Tim with something. She never argued and she would just agree with wide eyes and an expression that almost looked awed as she immediately agreed. It was as if she thought Danny was unbelievably kind to help Tim out. As if she was impressed that Danny could stand Tim.

If his boss wasn't otherwise so nice, Danny would call her out on it.

“So what is this project you wanted help with?”

Tim seemed to be distracted by his phone as they walked through the corridors, but at that he looked up and smiled. “Oh, it’s nothing. You just looked like you needed a break. What’s up?”

Danny grimaced at the fact that he was apparently so easy to read. “I had a run-in with Batman.”

Tim placed his phone in his pocket. “Was it the ghost attack?” 

“How did you know?” Danny asked in surprise.

Tim’s gaze flickered to the side and back. “It’s on the news.”

“Yeah…” Danny let out a long sigh. Of course it was on the news, but since Tim hadn’t seemed to know that he’d been involved he took some solace in the fact that he probably hadn’t been mentioned. “I got stuck in the middle of it last night.”

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Danny waved him off. “No, no, I’m fine. It’s not the first time I’ve been in a ghost atta—” Danny cut himself off. He was too tired to monitor everything he said. He cursed himself.

Tim perked up. “So you do know about ghosts?”

Which was the second time in as many days he had gotten that question. Was he really so bad at keeping secrets? “Why are you so interested in them?” Danny countered.

Why would Tim, his new friend in another town, suddenly ask about ghosts? Danny just wanted to forget his old life, god damn it!

It was Tim’s turn to look a bit hesitant. “Well. There’s been a lot of attacks in the city lately by villains that seem… Strange. So I thought that maybe they’re ghosts?”

Danny really had no idea if that was a normal conclusion to jump to or not. He was the first to admit that his perception was a bit skewed. “Maybe,” Danny allowed.

“So you do believe in ghosts?”

Danny was so tired and he really didn’t feel like denying his own existence today. “Yeah.”

“But… you said your hometown wasn’t haunted?”

Danny cursed himself. Again. When would he actually learn? “Well. It’s not? It’s more accurate to say it’s under attack.”

Tim blinked. “Right.” He stopped walking. “So you know a lot about them? The ghosts?”

“Everyone from Amity knows about ghosts to some degree,” Danny said with a strained smile and as always; careful not to show his teeth.

Tim raised an eyebrow. “And what degree are you?”

Danny shrunk in on himself, uncomfortable. “I mean… That depends… I don't really—” 

Tim leaned back, hands up and with a slightly guilty expression on his face. “Oh, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you. It's just—” he exhaled forcibly and, after what seemed like a short internal debate, said, “We might be having some issues that we think miiiight be related to ghosts.”

That got Danny’s attention. A ghost he hadn’t noticed? That was an issue.

That didn't mean that he wanted to get involved with whatever this was but the least he could do was to listen to what Tim had to say. As a friend he owed him that, at least. 

Tim combed a hand through his hair with a strained laugh. “You're not laughing at me. That’s a start.” 

Danny raised an eyebrow. “I'm from Amity Park. I’m used to worse.” At Tim's nonplussed expression he clarified, “We have our fair share of whack-jobs.”

“Are you calling me a whack-job?” Tim asked with a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yes,” Danny deadpanned and smiled as Tim snorted, breaking some of the tension.

Tim took a deep breath and then hesitantly said, “I’m not really supposed to be talking about it, but honestly we’re at a bit of a dead-end. Do you think you’re up for bouncing some ideas?”

Now it was Danny’s turn to hesitate.

He didn’t want to get involved in any more ghostly problems. He had tried to get away. He had gotten away.

But it had really never mattered what he wanted, had it? The problems were already here, and if he had learnt something over the years since everything went to literal hell it was that ignoring your problems didn’t tend to solve them, it just made them haunt you.

No matter how much he wished otherwise.

Not that this came as a huge surprise, he had been waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Suck on that Jazz! He hadn’t been paranoid!

So Danny sighed, and prepared himself to have everything he’d worked for come crashing down. Again. “Yeah, sure.”

Tim brightened up. “Really? You’re sure?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Danny waved him off. “I have to help if I can, right? So, what’s up?”

“Well, we have this… Computer. It's not very important.” 

Which meant that it was very important.

Tim continued, “And it’s getting attacked by… something.”

“Right. And why would just think ghosts and not, I don’t know, a normal virus?”

“Well. It learns and adapts quicker than any virus I’ve ever seen.” Tim fumbled his phone back out of his pocket. “Just. Here. Look at these logs.”

Danny looked down at the readings clearly displaying ectoplasmic activity and cursed his whole existence. The only silver lining being that it was restrained to a closed system which meant that his parents shouldn’t be able to pick up on it. But this meant that they were dealing with a big and important computer acting up with ghostly readings. Yeah, there was someone he knew that fit that M.O. Just to make sure, he asked, “This is from the attacks?”

“Yes,” Tim confirmed.

Danny heaved a  sigh. First Skulker and now Technus? Well. In for a penny… “I might know who it could be, but I need to see it to make sure.”

Underneath his absolutely overwhelming desire to do anything besides “making sure”, Danny found that he was impressed that they had been able to keep up with Technus until now. That was no easy task.

“Wait. Really?” Tim looked genuinely surprised.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “You asked me for help, didn't you?” 

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you would actually be able to help.”

Danny snorted. “Glad to disappoint.”

Tim laughed. “I'm glad you're disappointing!” 

Danny joined in, feeling a bit better about the whole disaster as he said, “Lead the way!” 

--

And that's how Danny found himself in an otherwise empty room occupied by a big computer which looked more high tech than anything he had seen before. Well, it looked to be composed of several different parts, but no less advanced for it. It reminded him of his parents’ and his own inventions; the best parts cobbled together to make something that was far beyond anything available on the market.

If Tim was the one who built it, then Danny suddenly felt a lot more comfortable with him poking around in his arm. The only question was; for what purpose was it built?

Danny didn't have very good experiences with rich people who liked to mess with science and computers.

He wondered if this computer also contained a creepy program modeled after some poor unsuspecting victim. Or data to make clones of a nearby child. Maybe even data about all the heroes in the world and plans how to take them down, or something equally ridiculous.

Tim looked from the computer, to Danny, and back, before saying, “Just try to focus on the ghost problem, alright?”

That only made him more interested, more curious. “Sure.”

But even that promise didn’t stop him from sneaking a few glances at the computer as he worked, but sadly he was unable to really get any useful information from it. Whoever owned it took security very seriously. After a short while, Danny leaned back and declared, “Yeah, it’s definitely Technus.”

“Technus?”

Danny just raised his voice as he said, “Yeah, Technus is a ghost who just sucks at everything that’s related to technology!” Danny made sure to pitch his voice even louder as he ignored Tim’s raised eyebrows, “He’s just the worst and everyone back home laughs at him! He can’t even figure out a light bulb!”

Tim frowned in confusion, but before he could do more than open his mouth, Technus—predictably—burst from the computer in a shower of sparks.

Tim staggered backwards. “Holy—”

“Yo, Nick,” Danny said with his hand raised in greeting. “So this is where you’ve been hiding out?”

“Ghost-boy,” Technus growled out, his body still halfway morphed into the computer. 

“I hope I’m not seeing you trying to possess this computer.” Danny tried to cross his arms, realized he only had one at the moment and settled for crossing it over his torso. “Do you want me to call Tucker?”

Technus froze. “No. I’ll just— I’ll just leave.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s for the best.” Then he added, “You know, my parents probably have some new tech for you to infect.”

Technus perked up, moving as if to leave, but then he hesitated and turned back to Danny. “I don’t want to owe you anything, so I’m going to give you some advice. All that ectoplasm leaking out is going to draw more of us in. You can’t contain a system failure, you know? You have to shut down the whole process or it’s going to cascade and destroy everything.”

With that ominous statement, Technus fizzled out like bad static and it wasn’t until Technus had left that Danny realized what he had just revealed to Tim about his own parents.

He relaxed minutely when Tim didn’t bring it up but instead didn’t waste any time before asking, “How did you do that?”

Danny shrugged.  “We have a sort of understanding.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to elaborate on that?”

“Not really.”

Danny could tell that Tim wanted to question him, but he must have looked as uncomfortable as he felt—and Tim must have realized that he wouldn’t say anything more—because Tim just pursed his lips and asked, “And what did you mean about your parents?”

Aaaand there it was.

“They’re inventors,” Danny hedged as he tried to play it off.

“That’s cool! What do they specialize in?” 

Danny waved him off. “Different things. Nothing you would recognize.”

Tim looked like he wanted to ask more, but then he stopped, tilted his head, and asked, “What did he mean about system failure?”

Danny was infinitely grateful for Tim’s curiosity at the moment. “Who knows?” Danny shrugged. “Ghosts are weird.”

Tim pouted. “Do you have tips for how we can make sure this doesn’t happen again?”

“Nick won’t be coming back.”

“But other ghosts might?”

“I mean… Yeah.” At least Danny hadn’t been able to get them to stay away permanently. Yet.

“Can I count on you to help with them if they do?”

Danny hesitated. He didn’t want to say no and disappoint his new friend, but he also didn’t want to promise to help with things he didn’t want to get involved with and he definitely didn’t want to get more involved with ghosts than he had to. He had worked hard to stay under the radar of both his parents and the Bats in Gotham, and this would definitely not do that. He had enough experience to know that accepting this would be a slippery slope right down into getting found out and subsequently, into trouble.

“I’ll think about it.”

Tim looked like he wanted to argue, to push, but then he swallowed it down, muttered what sounded like “not a mystery” and nodded. “Thanks. And thanks for getting the ghost out of the computer.”

“Don’t mention it,” Danny said, and hoped that Tim picked up on how literally he meant it.

[thewritingbeforesunrise]

Crave.

18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

______________________________________

A/N: This started out as an Halloween prompt but morphed into something else entirely.

Today is my birthday. I never really enjoyed celebrating birthdays but this time I wanted to celebrate by gifting you one of my favourite things in the world.

So please enjoy this little fic about desperate whiny subby Jake.

I really can't help myself, as much as I adore mean dom Jake, my heart always leads me to picture him as an absolute whiny mess of a good boy.

He makes me want to ruin him.

This was hardly proofread, sorry for any mistakes.

Join the taglist here

Word count: 4.9K

Pairing: Jake x female!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+ONLY, graphic sexual content, oral (m!receiving), anal play, rimming and digital penetration (m!receiving), toys, sub!jake.

Summary: You were mad at each other. What was the worst thing that could possibly happen?

________________________________

The sound of an old western playing on the TV in the living room was starting to get on your nerves as you tried to wrap your head about what you were planning to do.

Jake was sprawled on the sofa, freshly showered, with a throw blanket around his legs and his guitar on his lap.

He was strumming a lazy tune, taking turns between watching the TV and observing you as you worked and gradually lost your mind over the crazy project you had embarked upon because of him.

Jake knew you were fairly talented with the sewing machine, thanks to your grandmother who had taught you everything you needed to know to fix your own clothes.

So he had asked you if you could try to fix his beloved blue jeans that he hardly separated from.

He was basically asking you to perform an extreme rescue operation on them. They were so tattered and torn that you were afraid you would have to toss in the towel and admit defeat.

But Jake had become so attached to them that you really didn't want to let him down.

You had to try at least.

That's why you had spent the entire morning driving around and shopping for any kind of supplies you needed, to perform an action that would have made Doctor Frankenstein jealous.

You had spent the afternoon stitching and unstitching fabric and changing your mind about almost everything you did.

Now the sky was dark outside, your hands were starting to cramp and your fingers hurt from the amount of time you had pierced yourself with the needle. You were starting to lose your mind and on top of that you were starving.

Everything seemed to irritate you the further you went on.

The ticking of the clock on the wall, the buzzing noise of the fridge, the drip of the sink you had never managed to fix were driving you insane the more frustrated you became with the fabric.

But what infuriated you the most was in fact Jake.

He kept staring at you as if he wanted to say or do something. And he had been acting like that the entire day.

In the morning, you had woken up with his needy scorching hot body wrapped around yours and his lips on your neck. You were about to abandon yourself to him but then your eyes had fallen on the alarm clock. You were already late for your errands so with a heavy heart you had to push him away and get dressed quickly.

He had been pouting and huffing ever since that moment, like a child feeling neglected because his mum didn't buy him candies.

He got dressed in silence and even rejected the simple breakfast you offered him, slamming the car door and sighing loudly

When he understood that his behaviour wasn't having his desired effect with you, he decided to plot something else.

You saw the little smirk on his lips the moment the two of you entered the shop.

He disappeared.

You paid his absence no mind and asked the shop assistant about the fabric you were looking for and she motioned you towards a large table completely covered in rolls of said fabric in different colours and shades.

As the shop assistant showed you a roll of what you thought was the perfect choice, you felt Jake’s presence behind you.

He pressed you against the table with his hips, almost imperceptibly for anyone to notice but enough for letting you feel him, hot and hard against your ass.

You were about to ask him what he thought about that fabric when you felt his breathing close to your ear and shivered as he spoke with his raspy voice.

"I don't like it. It looks cheap" he whispered pressing his hips a bit more against yours and then pushing away altogether, succeding in distracting you and leaving your mind completely blank.

He made you turn three different shops completely upside down before deciding what he wanted. And in all three of them he acted like a little brat, pressing himself against you any chance he got and whispering filthy things into your ear that made you blush in front of the shop assistants.

"I wish she wasn't there, so I could press you against this table and make you scream and clench around this neglected cock of mine, angel" he whispered just as you were about to pay for the fabric.

"But maybe she enjoys watching," he continued.

That caused your card to almost slip from your hands and him to snicker in your ear at your clumsiness.

He even had the courage to reprimand you in front of the cashier.

"Careful angel. Here, take my card" he said, handing the cashier his card and succeding in making your blood boil.

So you decided to play his own game and do what irritated him the most.

You kept ignoring him.

Until now, that you needed him to try on his jeans and maybe make the final arrangements.

You had tried a different thing, since mending the rips was impossible without it showing.

You had basted a different layer of jeans fabric, in a slightly darker shade from the original light wash, covering almost the entire leg and creating a contrast that looked great in your opinion.

"Jake, can you come here for a second, please?" You called him from the kitchen.

He huffed and rolled his eyes before slowly placing his guitar on the sofa and standing up, coming into the kitchen and crossing his arm waiting.

You tried your best not to scoff at his behaviour but your hands were hitching for grasping his shoulders and pining him against the wall.

"What?" He asked you as if he really didn't want to be there.

You ignored him and went on as if you hadn't noticed his pout.

"Just try these on for me, I need to see if this fabric is well basted to the leg" you said motioning to the jeans you were holding.

He looked you in the eyes for a few seconds and then, with his eyes still boring holes into yours, he untied his black sweats and let them fall on the ground.

He stepped out of them and then took the jeans from your hands, slowly pulling them up for you to see.

When he had them on, a little smile broke the pout he was still wearing and you felt the tension in the room ease a little.

"Do you like them?" You asked observing how well they fitted him.

"Yeah, I think I do," he told you and smiled.

You noticed a little flaw in the way the two fabrics were basted on the inside of his knee.

"Just, let me check something" you said more to yourself than him, placing a hand on his tummy and pressing him gently against the wall behind him, before dropping to your knees in front of him.

Your fingers slowly reached the inside of his knee and brushed over the fabric.

He gasped and shivered at your touch as if he wasn't expecting that.

You looked up at him, worried.

He wasn't meeting your eyes, his jaw set.

You resumed what you were doing.

You noticed that the problem had affected most of the stitches in the inside of his leg so you turned around to grab the pins to fix it.

Your hand started to make its way upwards on the inside of his thigh towards his crotch.

He tensed at your touch and groaned when your fingers squeezed his muscle.

"Jake, what's wrong?" You asked a little worried.

"Nothing" he answered all too quickly for you to believe him, but you didn't say anything.

You resumed your work and inched your fingers further up his leg.

This time he whimpered and whispered your name.

Your eyes fixated on his face, scrunched up as if he was in pain and then moved downwards, finally becoming aware of the fact that his jeans were becoming tighter and tighter for him.

He twitched in his pants as he saw you were looking right at his crotch.

"Fuck, please" he whispered.

Again, you ignored him.

You started to unstitch the temporary white thread you had used and started to adjust the fabric with your pins.

At some point your fingers slipped and you accidentally stung him on the inside of his thigh.

He whimpered and his hands reached for you. One wrapped around your wrist and the other landed in your hair, caressing you gently.

"Please angel, please" he whispered.

"What do you need, Jake?" You whispered back looking him in the eyes.

"Please, i-it's been all day" he begged, almost whining, desperate.

You pitied him and broke your resolve.

You had tortured him enough.

After all, those big brown doe eyes of his had always been your greatest weakness.

He looked and sounded desperate and you wanted to make him feel good.

You kissed his clothed tummy and you felt his body relax.

His eyes fluttered closed and he whispered a little plea as you lifted his shirt to kiss his soft skin, just underneath his navel.

Your hands pressed on his thighs and you kept nipping and suckling a path down his tummy making him shiver.

You unbuttoned his jeans and slowly slid them a bit down his legs, just enough to expose the grey boxers he was wearing underneath.

His hands quickly reached up to get rid of that item of clothing but you stopped him immediately.

You grasped his wrists and made him place his hands on the wall.

"Keep your hands there, baby. If you move them you are getting nothing." You whispered back looking him in the eyes.

He groaned and tried to complain but all it took was a look from you to stop him.

He realized you meant business.

You tugged at his jeans to bring them further down, to his knees, and then licked a stripe from his navel to the edge of his boxers, before letting go of his shirt to cover him back up.

Then your gaze moved lower and took in the extent of his arousal.

He was undoubtedly hard and straining in his boxers. You could see the outline of his erection pretty clearly.

At that moment you decided to torture him a bit further.

You moved your head closer to him, not enough for your lips to touch him but enough for him to feel your presence and warmth very close.

He begged you again in less than a minute.

He was so needy.

"What's gotten you so riled up, baby?" You questioned letting the elastic band with which you were playing snap against his tummy.

He shook his head and cursed but didn't answer.

He wasn't going to relent.

Unexpectedly you pressed your lips against his covered shaft with a quick peck and he almost doubled over with a groan and grasped your hair with his strong fingers.

You immediately detached from him with a glare that had him apologizing and pressing his hands back against the wall with a defeated sigh, giving you full control.

You pressed your parted lips against him again and moved them gently upwards causing the fabric to drag against him and making him groan.

You reached his head and he cursed when your lips wrapped around him, but still the fabric separated you from his skin.

You sucked at him gently and his hips threatened to push away from the wall but he stopped himself.

You kept your lips there and sucked at him, swirling your tongue against him and wetting the fabric.

A big wet darker spot formed where your saliva was dampening the fabric.

"Fuck, angel" he whimpered and you moved one of your hands from his hip to his upper thigh, caressing the dip between hip and crotch.

A little whiny sound left his lips before he could restrain himself and bite his lips and your hand moved lower.

Your thumb caressed his clothed shaft as your lips kept sucking at his head making him lose his mind excruciatingly slow.

A little sheen of sweat was starting to cover his forehead and he was biting his lips so hard trying not to moan out loud.

Your tongue found the little special spot right under his head that made him tremble and finally you heard his voice, unrestrained and raspy as he moaned.

"Please" he begged already out of breath and you stopped again.

"What got you so worked up, lover boy?" You asked again as your thumb kept stroking up and down his covered shaft.

"N-nothing" he groaned blushing wildly, but you were having none of it.

Something was blocking him from saying what it was.

You stopped the movement of your thumb and he cursed, looking at you absolutely desperate.

"C'mon, baby, tell me, you know you can tell me anything" you whispered.

He shook his head and groaned when you gently grazed your teeth against his tip.

"Angel" he whined, dragging out the word.

"Just please, stop torturing me" he whispered and you started dragging his boxers slightly down.

But then you stopped.

He groaned as you let the fabric end back against him with a loud snap, making him hiss.

"Tell me" you whispered with your lips grazing his erection.

His eyes met yours. Burning and fiery.

"No," he said harshly.

He wasn't going to relent.

So be it.

Your nails dug in his hip and he cursed.

Then your hands trailed lower and he smirked, thinking you were going to give him what he wanted.

Oh, how wrong he was.

Just when you were about to free him from the confines of his boxers, your hand retreated once again, making him curse.

You didn't give him time to do anything because your mouth enveloped his clothed tip and sucked hard, almost making him lose balance.

One of your hands snaked downwards and started massaging his taut balls through the fabric..

He moaned your name loudly, his voice echoing in the room.

You could feel your panties sticking to your skin but every cell of your body was focused on him and his pleasure.

You kept your lips around his tip and with the thumb of your other hand you started caressing his shaft, rock hard and so hot.

"Angel" he warned you.

He was close. His gritted teeth and tense abdomen made you almost feral.

"Think about that forbidden thing you are so adamant about not telling me, baby" you ordered him and his hands squeezed into fists as he bit his lip letting his head fall backwards, exposing his sweaty neck.

You started flicking your tongue on the little spot right under his head, moaning to let him feel the vibrations of your voice against himself and that was it.

"No. Wait…" he tried to say but it was too late.

Before he could stop himself he reached his climax, slamming his hands hard against the wall and coming undone right in his boxers.

The sounds leaving his lips were sinful and made goosebumps raise on your skin.

You felt his warmth spread beneath the wet fabric of his boxers and shivered in need.

He slowly came down from his high and groaned, taking a good look at the state he was in.

"Fuck angel, really?" He complained with a little smirk, "You really made me come in my boxers?!" His incredulous tone made you chuckle.

"I figure I did, lover boy" you whispered and made the wet fabric snap against his hips one last time.

You stood and tried to walk towards your room to get him something clean to wear but he stopped you with a firm grasp on the back of your neck, pinning you to the wall and leaning close to your ear to whisper something.

"You plague my mind all day. And all night too. I dreamt about you doing unspeakable things to me tonight. That's why this morning I was so hard and needy." He bit your bottom hard lip before continuing.

"But all you could think about were those damn pants and you rejected me to go look for a stupid fabric." He rasped into your ear, making you shiver.

"Do you really wanna know what kept me awake tonight and plagued my mind the entire day?" He went on before kissing you passionately.

You nodded and bit his lip back, making him groan.

He pinned you more against the wall and sucked your lobe into his mouth before pressing his lips to your ear and starting to speak.

"I had a dream that you used that damn vibrator I gifted you a couple of months ago to make me come. In my dream it was so messy and hot that I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. When I finally decided I wanted to do something about it you woke up but we had to leave. But I kept imagining it, angel. Fuck I'm imagining it right now." He groaned and pressed his forehead against yours.

Your mind was in overdrive.

"Let's do it. If you want it I want it." You whispered back, shaking lightly.

You were lying. You didn't want it.

You needed it.

You needed to admire him unraveling in front of you.

You had imagined it countless times. But now you wanted to see it with your eyes.

His lips parted in surprise and then he smirked.

"Don't tell me you had already thought about this." He chuckled and you blushed.

"Who knew that my little shy, silent girl had such a dirty mind" he said smugly, laughing.

You pressed your hands on his chest and pushed him backwards until he reached the table.

Then you quickly turned him and pushed his hips against the table with yours.

He cursed.

"Let's see who is going to be the last one laughing, baby" You whispered in his ear from behind.

"Don't you dare move" you ordered him and he groaned but stayed put as you disappeared.

When you came back he was in the same position as before, with his hands on the table and the jeans still around his knees.

One of your hands reached forward and stroked his chest, feeling his sweaty damp shirt, bunching it up and pulling it away from his body altogether.

You started placing little kisses on the junction between his neck and shoulder and when you reached his shoulder you bit down hard.

He arched his back slightly and you pressed him further into the table.

Then you brought the hand you had on his chest downwards keeping the other hidden behind his back.

When you reached his dirty boxers you finally snaked your hand inside and wrapped it around him. He was quickly hardening again and still damp with his previous arousal.

You decided it was time to free him so you bent down behind him and dragged both boxers and jeans down and off his body.

He sighed but gasped when before standing back up you bit down hard on one of his plump ass cheeks.

When you stood, you slowly dragged the black silicone toy you had in your other hand slowly up and down his spine and hips before wrapping both arms around his waist and flicking the toy to life in front of him.

"Are you sure you want this?" You asked, dragging the toy up and down his abdomen every time closer to the place where he needed it.

"Fuck, yes I need it angel." He groaned when both of your hands reached between his legs.

You stroked him a few times with your free hand before trying the toy on him.

When it touched the base of his cock he tensed and growled arching his head backwards.

He almost lost his balance when unexpectedly you moved the toy down the underside of his shaft and made it graze the spot right under his head.

He moaned so loud that you felt a shock wave of pleasure curse through you.

He almost doubled over and gasped for air like never before.

You abruptly stopped.

He cursed and begged you to go on.

You had an idea.

"Jakey, baby, I want you to press your hands on the table and bend forward a little." You whispered in his ear before kneeling behind him.

He obliged, a little confused but shivered when he understood what you wanted to do.

You grabbed his erection gently and started stroking it downwards as he leant his body against the table.

He tensed when you put the tip of the toy right against his balls and little breathy whines started leaving his lips as you combined that with the slow and steady stroking of your fist.

"A-angel, fuckfuck just like this" he moaned.

You started placing little wet kisses on the back of his thighs and goosebumps raised on his skin.

It wasn't the first time you two indulged in such forbidden activities.

So when you asked what he wanted he was quick to answer.

"Your mouth, please angel" he groaned, leaning more of his body against the table.

You wrapped your lips around his tip and moved the toy to graze that little spot behind his balls that made him scream.

"Ah fuck me" he groaned.

You started kissing and licking his balls as you stroked his length with the tip of the vibrator. He was slowly losing his mind, the sounds leaving his lips were becoming louder and louder.

You caught him off guard by licking a slow stripe from the underside of his balls to his hole and he cursed, arching his back.

He slammed his hands on the table and groaned loudly.

His groans morphed into unbridled moans when you kept licking at him, feeling his muscles flutter under your tongue as the hand holding the toy moved gently up and down his length.

He started shaking when the rhythm of your licks picked up and you started pressing the tip of your tongue a little bit more inside him.

You almost lost it yourself when you looked up to the wall in front of you.

Thanks to the perfect placement of the oven, you could steal a look to him while staying behind him, the reflection the glass of the oven door was sending back to you was an image of pure bliss.

He had his eyes closed and his lips parted in ecstasy, his head slightly leant backward exposing his sweaty biteable neck that you had marked so many times.

When the vibrator touched his balls his brows tipped up and he bit his lower lip, stifling a moan, but when you slowly stroked his length and pressed the toy right on the underside of his head his lips parted in a grimace, exposing his teeth. He looked almost in pain, but the sound that left his lips was absolutely far away from it.

He was experiencing the utmost pleasure. His legs were starting to shake.

He whimpered when you brought him to the edge and stopped abruptly, parting from him.

You stood, turned off the vibrator and he panicked.

"Wait, wait, please angel please…" he blabbered, his desperate words overlapping.

You pressed your front to his back and grasped his hips.

Then you brought one of your hands to his throat to silence him and keep him in place.

"Jakey, baby. You have been such a good boy for me." You whispered into his ear and he cursed under his breath at the nickname.

"I want you to tell me exactly what you need." You went on.

"I want your fingers. Inside" he whispered without any shame, shaking with need.

You kissed his ear and praised him again.

Then your hands moved to his wrists making goosebumps raise down his arms.

"Bend over the table, baby" you whispered into his ear.

One of your hands reached to his back and gently pressed him to the wooden surface.

He groaned at the coolness of it and gasped when your lips met the spot between his shoulders blades, and started trailing kisses down his spine.

When you reached his lower back you couldn't contain yourself.

You grasped his plush ass and he chuckled but hissed when your palm connected with ot, looking at how his supple skin giggled.

"What was that for?" He said, sounding a bit vexed.

"For fun baby" you answered and licked a bold stripe against his hole.

"Fuck" he cursed.

You circled his hole repeatedly with the pointed tip of your tongue and then sucked, feeling him flutter and clench beneath your lips.

"Fucking hell" he cursed.

He jolted forward when, unexpectedly, you turned on the toy and placed it right at his hole, keeping it there.

He moaned loudly and his breathing turned ragged when your hand resumed stroking his length.

When you stopped again, he almost sobbed.

"Shh baby, I'm about to give you what you want" you reassured him.

You opened the little bottle of lube you had brought to the kitchen with the toy and wetted one of your fingers before circling it to his hole.

"Still ok with this baby?" You whispered and he answered immediately.

"Yes angel please. Make a mess of me" he whispered and groaned.

It wasn't the first time you touched him there, you had already used your tongue on him a few times but this was the first time he had actually asked you to use your fingers to penetrate him.

You started pressing a finger to his hole incredibly gently and you almost moaned at the way his body started enveloping your digit.

He was panting now. The rising and falling of his glowing body almost made you lose your mind.

You had managed to press your finger inside of him to the knuckle and started moving it in and out of him.

He tensed his body and whimpered, letting a long drawn out breathy moan leave his lips when you turned on the vibrator and pressed it to the little spot right behind his balls.

"A-" he tried to say but you completely shattered his thoughts when you sucked his balls into your mouth and pressed the toy against his frenulum.

You let go of his tensed balls and listened to the beautiful symphony of his heavy breathing, moans and whimpers.

You experimentally curled your fingers downwards and he screamed your name, almost losing balance.

His knees buckled and his back arched. You felt his muscles flutter around your finger and you almost came untouched right there.

You slowed the rhythm of your finger but he didn't want that. He started pressing his hips back against you quickly.

He tried to warn you again, but you didn't give him time.

Your finger curled a bit more sharply against the forbidden spot inside of him while you simultaneously kept the toy down the length of him. The length of it, so similar to him, allowed you to keep it pressed entirely against him, from his tip to his balls, making him let out a loud string of curses and moans.

You moaned too and without thinking bit down harshly on his ass cheek.

He completely lost himself at that. The invisible thread tethering him to reality broke and he unraveled beautifully in front of your eyes.

His body started shaking violently and his knees buckled. He kept his balance only thanks to the table or he would have crumbled on the floor.

His arched back was a sight to behold together with his dampened hair sticking to his back as he threw his head backwards in pleasure.

The sounds leaving his lips were heavenly and absolutely unrestrained.

They were going to haunt your every living moment and plague your most forbidden thoughts.

His come coated your hand and the black toy you were holding.

You turned it off and let it fall on the ground without any recollection of it. You were too enraptured by what had just happened.

His breathing started to calm down only after several minutes.

You stood and hoped he was ok.

You circled the table and saw that he had his cheek pressed to the table and his eyes closed, his hands still closed into fists.

His hair was a mess, sticking to his skin and damp with sweat.

You caressed him and he purred.

"Are you here with me, lover boy?" You asked and he chuckled.

"I think I just got my soul ripped from my body, my little naughty angel" he said, his voice raspy and spent.

He sounded so sexy that he made you want to do what you had just done all over again.

_____________________________

Taglist: @gvfpal @sammyslappers @spark-my-nature @highladyofasgard @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jessicafg03 @doodle417 @hellowgoodbye @ejoygvf @jaketlover @jakekiszkasbabymama @objectsinspvce @indigostreakmorgan @witchofendora @myleftsock @gretavanshmeat @gretasfallingsky @giraffehippy @jennasometimesreads @katiegvf @sinarainbows @laney_gvf @themorningbirds @starcatcherchords @lipstickitty @meetingthestardust @joshskittytickler @livkiszka @twistedmelodies @ignite-my-fire @gvfmarge @writingcold

[tzuberry]

august

pairing gyuvin + gn reader details angst, summer au (overexaggerated summer fling), implied childhood friends, heavily inspired by the dicon “the beach boy” photoshoot and “august” by chase atlantic cw none wc 1247 read time 5 mins

note i said i would come back with a banger fic and i do not think this is it but i chose not to sleep just to write this while i was motivated SO i’m posting it! i think this entire idea could be executed better but this is all i have for now. i kinda wanna make this an entire summer series with all the members too but i’ll see about that…

masterlist⠀⠀navigation

“[Name],” the boy beside you called out. He inched his body and position away from you slowly, no longer having his hand cup yours as it rested on the sand below you. “I’m sorry.”

In the cold, ceaselessly thickening wind that blew through the air, you knew that the atmosphere around you—and your relationship, subsequently—had begun to reflect the state of the soon rigid breeze around you and Gyuvin.

Throughout the past few months, it became an unspoken agreement between the both of you to find each other at the beach once dusk fell. It made you wonder if you’d gotten too comfortable around him, and it’d just been an hour into today’s visit to the coastline when he confirmed what you’d been worried about all summer. “I think we should stop doing this.”

“Stop coming to the beach?” Your brows knit together as if a thread had kept them stitched closely. It took a bit of inquisition on your part and some clarification on Gyuvin’s before you finally understood what he was trying to put a stop to. He wanted to stop meeting up here; rather, he wanted not to see you at all… or at least, for the rest of the time you were here. You had to go back to the city when summer ended, anyway.

You moved your arms to push your knees up into your chest as you attempted to process what he was saying. “I don’t get it,” you refused, shaking your head. “I thought you liked me.”

“I did,” Gyuvin meant to interject; he didn’t think fast enough to be able to interrupt you. “I still do.”

You swallowed. You weren’t exactly dating, but you thought your bond counted for something. As you pieced together a hopefully composed response, you couldn’t help but look around the shore and at everything except Gyuvin—the boy who had just unofficially broken up with you.

The surrounding area of land was deserted for a reason; Gyuvin’s grandfather owned a small portion of the beach, and therefore had it restricted. You were always allowed to come, though, as your families had been friends for a considerable amount of time before you were born. (Read: you were always allowed, but you’d never exercised that privilege until this summer.)

There was no one else around but you and him. You both knew you didn’t have any means to be able to find an excuse to leave or avoid this conversation; so, with a deep breath, you turned your head to the left and stared at Kim Gyuvin for the first time since he brought this entire thing up.

“Then why are you doing this?” You pulled your lips back from frowning—an obvious human reflex when upset. “I thought this was a good summer. It’s been you and me all summer, Gyuvin.”

“I know.” He sighed. “That’s the problem with…” He waved his hand, which had laid atop his knee a few seconds prior, inertly as he gestured to the space between the two of you. “This.”

Your lips parted an infinitesimal distance. Was he pertaining to how you wanted something to come out of this? Sure, you did want a real relationship with Gyuvin—something you’ve thought about the more you spent time with him—but you didn’t expect anything of him. You kept your friendship with him completely as that: friends. He’d never given the indication he wanted to be anything, so you never tried to be anything.

The task of maintaining your composure had become increasingly daunting as the discussion progressed. “What’s wrong with… this?” you asked cautiously, breathless as your tone laced with uncertainty.

Gyuvin visibly hesitated. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, presumably to prepare for what he was about to say to further the conversation. “Nothing,” he replied. “It’s just that it’s August now. You’re leaving in a few weeks, and I won’t see you until next summer again.”

“That has nothing to do with us,” you argued. You let your knees fall flat to the ground instead of hugged to your chest, and you pushed your palms down into the sand a couple inches behind your back to sustain an upright position. “Do you not wanna be friends anymore?”

He bit his lip. Just then, you noticed how tightly his right set of fingers had clung onto his left hand, continuously moving to massage how tensed up it was.

The breeze had come to an irreversible conclusion for the day. The salty undertone in the air became more apparent, and the winds weren’t shifting in degree of intensity as quickly as when you first observed them to.

You breathed it in. As you did so, Gyuvin moved back close to you again, no longer tending to his now reddened knuckles. You wondered what you could say next, but he beat you to it; after what looked like careful deliberation, he gathered the last of his courage for the night and finally initiated eye contact with you.

“I want to be more than friends,” he admitted. “I want this.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Gyuvin stopped you by lifting the palm of his hand. “I want you, but you’re leaving. I know you’re starting university soon, and you might not come back to me anymore after this summer.

“You’ll be in the city and I’ll just— I’ll be here. I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this beach, and I don’t think you’ll ever want to leave the city when you get back there,” he half-explained, half-rambled. You hated the way he phrased everything, and the way he implied you were; as though you would simply desert him after a whole summer of whatever this was. “Just— I want to put an end to this before I get hurt.”

You were getting Gyuvin; you were getting a verbal confirmation that whatever you wanted, he wanted too. Still, you felt a dramatic rumble in your chest and a sickening turn in your stomach at the sudden realisation—you wished he was wrong about you, but you couldn’t exactly assure him that he was.

Even you knew you had the tendency not to come back the following year, making his worries a completely possible outcome once you left. You couldn’t promise him anything even if you wanted to.

With your words, you treaded lightly. “I want this too,” you agreed. His face lit up briefly before he realised what you were gonna say next: a guilt-ridden, almost inaudible, “I’m sorry.”

Gyuvin, after a minute of biting his cheek, slowly nodded. “It’s okay,” he told you, lips pursed into a thin line. “I know you are.”

You gulped down and mentally went through everything that had led you to this moment. Maybe if you hadn’t pushed him for an explanation, you wouldn’t both be sat on the floor of the beach helplessly stuck in your own thoughts. It seemed like this was all your fault.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized again. Gyuvin put his right arm over your shoulder and guided your head into his. “I know.”

With the left side of your face pressed up against Gyuvin’s shoulder bone, you felt the night come to an end. There was no one else around but you and him; unfortunately, you both knew that this would be the last time you’d come to the beach together, and that this exact spot would be left unfrequented for at least a year… even if you decided to come back next summer.

[backmuscles21]

We Want You

Recoms x Reader

Summary: You're the only doctor set aside for the recom soldiers, as you start to work with them, they fall in love. Now they want you in on their secret arrangement. More of how things started, or how I'd imagine they'd start. I finished the entire thing only to then realize I forgot our boy Mansk. I couldn't believe it but I'm too lazy to fix it.

Warnings: implied sexual content, mild sexual content, explicit language, dom/sub undertones, friends with benefits.

They hated having meetings with General Ardmore, it was all a bunch of bullshit, and it was always something stupid. Usually, it was about something they did wrong or not up to her standards or something new she needed them to follow up with. They had their order and those orders were to kill Jake Sully. They didn’t need this bitch telling them what they can and can’t do, they are top-level marines, they are good at their job, and that’s why they were chosen.

They all sat facing the General, none of them could care less, she babbled on until they heard the door open. That made them sit up straighter and wake up a little, they noticed this other Na’vi body, another avatar.

“This is (y/n). She is a combat medic and has her PhD. She only studied in human biology until she got here, and now she holds another PhD in Na’vi biology. She will be your doctor and go with you on missions. We’ve given her an avatar to better treat you recom soldiers. She will at times be out of the avatar body acting as her original position of doctor.”

“And why do we need her when we got him?” Lopez pointed at Ja.

“Ja is just a combat medic. A medic for humans. Na’vi bodies are different and on top of that, I heal both,” you explained.

You were sassy, Miles took a liking to you right away.

And that’s how this all started, you were their doctor, on the field and off. They got hurt they went to you, they were having a problem with their bodies, you helped them. They all grew to love you for what you did for them, massaging their muscles after they worked them too hard in the gym or even better stitching a cut they got from a mission.

They loved your hands on them, they loved when they got a scrape or a cut because they knew your hands would be their skin. Your hands would touch their warm skin as you cleaned their cuts and bandaged them.

“Okay, we have to talk.”

“Whatever about Lyle,” Walker asked more sarcastically.

Lyle rolled his eyes, “about doc.”

“What about her?” Lopez asked sitting down next to Walker and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

“We have to let her in,” Lyle proposed.

“What? Let the doctor in on our arrangement. The girl blushes at the smallest of things. I bet she’s still a virgin,” Zdog joined in.

“She is amazing. I know you all like her too so don’t pretend. I see the way all y’all stare at her or how y’all talk about her after visiting her. And you Lopez, you stare at her ass the most,” Lyle explained.

Lopez laughed, “yeah, I’m first after you then Quaritch.”

“What about me,” Miles said as he walked into the Recom-only common room.

“List of who stares at the doctor’s ass the most,” Lopez confesses.

Miles smirked and let out a scoff, “and where did you rank me.”

“Third,” Prager said cooking some food for everyone.

Miles let out a chuckle, “and where did Lyle rank?”

“It’s up for debate, Lopez says first,” Ja said helping Prager.

“Lyle is pussy whipped for that girl, I’d say first,” Miles said.

“Are you guys ganging up on me now?” Lyle said pointing to his chest.

“Not right now, but maybe later if you’re a good boy. So, why did we start talking about the pretty doctor?” Miles asked watching as Lyle blushed lightly.

“Lyle wants her in,” Walker said looking at Miles.

“What does everyone else think? Do we let (y/n) in?”

The room was silent for a moment as everyone thought.

After a moment of silence, Miles spoke again, “I mean I would say yes. We all know she’s pretty and we all talk about her every time we see her and after every mission. And don’t think I don’t hear y’all moaning her name while jerking off.”

“Then let’s do it. Let’s have her join,” Prager said from across the room.

“Why the fuck not, we need more girls anyways,” Zdog said.

“Then it’s settled, she’s in. We tell her tomorrow,” Miles said as he saw everyone in agreeance.

When the next day came around though, they couldn’t find you, they looked everywhere but you weren’t around.

“Ardmore did say she was still a human doctor too maybe she’s in the human wing?” Ja said trying to find a new spot to look for you.

So that’s where they headed, off to the human medical wing. As they moved in, they had their breathing masks but still, they didn’t see your big blue body.

“Where on earth is this girl?” Walker asked.

“You guys are idiots. She’s an avatar, she still links in and out. She handles humans and Na’vi. She is probably in there with the white coats as a human,” Miles said.

“Our little doctor is a human still. We are definitely doing stuff to her while she’s human.”

“Shut the fuck up Lyle,” Lopez said.

That’s when Miles caught sight of you, you were stitching up someone’s leg, and you were smiling and laughing. He felt the jealousy pool in his stomach, you shouldn’t be with anyone but him. Your hair was so pretty, you were so small and frail, he wanted to feel your small hands on him.

The recoms stood outside waiting for you to finish with your patient before running in. Once you were wrapping his leg, Miles opened the bay doors and you looked up at him. The only reason he knew you were it was because your face was so similar to your Na’vi body, he stared at your eyes a lot.

“Quaritch? What are you doing here? Are you alright?”

“We need to speak to you.”

“I can’t leave, I’m helping people. I’m at work.”

“What time are you done?”

“Give me a few hours. Can you wait that long? Is it urgent at all?”

“No, we’ll wait. Meet us in the recom common room.”

“Gotcha,” you winked at him as you turned around.

He watched as you went to check on more patients and he left the med bay.

“So, what happened,” Walker asked with her head against the wall and arms crossed.

“She’s meeting us in a few hours in our common room.”

“Perfect, so why don’t we get the party started.”

The recoms headed back to their territory and waited for you, turns out them getting bored wasn’t great for them. Because soon enough they had their mouths on each other and as Lopez and Lyle fucked Walker and everyone else watched.

You finished your shift early, and your coworkers told you to go see what the recoms needed, that they couldn’t handle things. Your kind heart told them if they needed you or anything to just call, you’d keep your pager on and with you. You started to walk towards the recom rooms, only to turn around and go to the science room to link in first, being in your avatar body would be better.

You woke up already in the recom wing, you were closer to the common room now. You remember when you first met these guys, you didn’t really care for them, orders were orders. Now, you wanted them around all the time, they became really good friends of yours. These people were nice to you after a while and you could always be yourself with them, it made your heart swell for them.

You were at the door to the common room; you opened the door not even hearing your surroundings or smelling them for that matter. You were lost in thought about the recoms, you just barged in and what you saw shocked you.

“Uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t- I was um. I just- I’ll just go now.”

You turned around to leave, your brain was trying to process what you just witnessed. You felt a hand wrap around your bicep and pull you back until you hit a large firm chest. You looked up and into the eyes of none other than Miles Quaritch.

“This is actually what we wanted to talk to you about, Cupcake.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s say we have an arrangement all of us. We just so happen to all have needs and we all are attractive people who just happen to be into each other.”

“So, you guys are all dating?”

“Sorta.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since before we became recoms. Not necessarily to this magnitude but we saw you and over time, we decided to let you in. if you want to, that is.”

“I-I um, I don’t know. I like all of you guys a lot. I learned to love being your doctor. And not that I found any of you unattractive or didn’t like any of you. In fact, I felt bad for harbouring multiple crushes on you guys and just knew nothing was going to come of it that it was a stupid dream.”

Miles' hands rested on your cheek, “It doesn’t have to be a stupid dream. We're right here Cupcake and all for you if you want in.”

“I want this. I want you guys. But I’m nervous. I’ve never done this. I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You were silent for a moment, “and I’ve never had sex before,” you whispered the last part so lowly but it didn’t matter, the sensitive Na’vi ears still picked it up.

“We know baby girl. I can read it all over your face,” Zdog smirks

You look down and blush with a large smile on your features, “I didn’t think I was that obvious.”

“You’re super fucking obvious,” Zdog said as she walked up to you and took your cheeks in her hands and kissed you.

You kissed back, pressing into her with force, you wanted more of her, God you hated to admit how into all of them you were.

“No, fair, Zdog got first dibs,” Lopez said.

“It was just a kiss Lopez relax.” Zdog looked down at your face in her hands. “Awe look at her, all flustered after one kiss, she’s going to be fun to fuck.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked at her with such doe eyes but they were filled with want.

“I had you pegged from day one, cupcake. You’re a subby brat. Zdog’s got a point, this will be fun,” Miles said as his hand came to rest on your hip.

“When did all this happen?” You asked stuttering over your words, your brain felt so cloudy.

“Before we became recom soldiers,” Miles answered.

“Why me?”

“Why not you, buttercup. I mean look at you, you’re gorgeous. Why wouldn’t we want to have you all to ourselves,” Lyle said with a smile as he walked up to you.

You hadn’t realized it but Lyle, Lopez and Walker had stopped what they were doing and got somewhat dressed. Lopez walked up to you as well, he placed his hands on your waist and looked down at you.

“We would never get better. If there was someone else that was going to join us, I’m glad it’s you.”

“I want in, I want to join. I want to be a part of this with you guys. I don’t want to dream it anymore, I want to be here with you guys,” your eyebrows furrowed as you basically whined in front of them. Your smile was wide, you saying it out loud made your brain realize what it wanted, you knew how much you wanted this.

“There she is, look at that dazzling smile,” Lyle said pulling you into a hug and kissing you.

“Lyle, take your hand off my butt, please and thank you.”

“What,” Lyle smirked as he took his hands off you, he had moved it down without you noticing.

“Come on, why not get started, let Lyle feel you up a bit,” Zdog said with a smirk.

“Let the poor girl settle in, we don’t have to fuck her right away,” Prager said from the couch.

“Look at the poor girl, she looks so embarrassed. Let her take her time to warm up and get a feel for the dynamic. It will take time before she is ready to engage in everything. I know it took me some time,” Ja agreed with Prager.

“Come on, Walker was the one that caught you two fucking, it wasn’t hard for you to adjust, you were already into dick,” Lopez smirked.

“You mean a dick,” Walker laughed.

“Real funny,” Ja said throwing a pillow at Lopez.

“Even better when we caught you two fucking,” Prager said.

“We barely kept that shit a secret,” Lopez said throwing the pillow back towards Ja and Prager.

“Yeah, ‘cause we caught you in a bathroom rearranging her guts,” Ja said blocking Lopez throwing the pillow back at him.

“You guys were fucking each other before the arrangement started?” You asked trying to piece everything together.

“Obviously. We didn’t just decide to fuck each other. It just happened that way because we all started breaking off to fuck each other usually in twos sometimes in threes. So, then we all knew that every one of us was fucking each other at some point. We figured why not make it more of an obvious thing, at this point we had all seen each other naked, it wasn’t any different. Maybe fucking while others watched was different but still,” Miles told you how everything started.

You nodded along.

“I came in after, they all started,” Zdog said joining in again.

“Yeah, you joined after we caught you eating Walker out in her room,” Lyle smirked.

“What can I say, I’m a lady’s woman,” Zdog said smiling.

“You’re a lesbian?”

“Obviously.”

“And you,” you said pointing to Walker.

“Bisexual.”

You nodded for a moment, “are any of you straight?” you said laughing slightly.

“Most of us are, we just happen to be casually fucking.”

“Casually fuc-“ you laughed, “you guys are crazy, but I still fucking love you guys. I don’t care how it started or why but I love everyone’s energy with each other.”

“Well, now that you’re in, stop fucking talking to that doctor that you were talking with in the lab when we came to see you,” Lopez said.

“What doctor?”

“With the grey hair and stupid face.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about there are many guys with gray hair that I work with.”

“Well then all of them, none of them can have you,” Miles said pulling you into his chest.”

“None of them had me to begin with. Even if they wanted to, it was always you guys.”

“Good, you’re ours now. Take your time getting used to us, let it happen naturally. Hear that boys, don’t try anything right off the bat.”

The recom soldiers all snickered.

“Then let’s get settled. Anyone up for a movie?” Prager said trying to lighten the mood.

[cal-writes]

been in a immorcation (immortal/reincarnation au) mood recently. i dont know if i shared this before actually but either way enjoy some law being a mess

-

Zoro is lightning fast, within one moment and the next he is crouching in front of Law, his one eye as intense as laser. Law presses back against the wall and suddenly becomes aware of the intense burning pain in his arm. He looks down to see his sleeve soaking with blood.

“Oh shit.” He says, wanting to lift his arm only to have the stabbing pain race through his entire body. Zoro’s hand grabs his wrist and holds him still as the other rips into the hole in his sleeve. “Hey! Ow fuck.” He protests before he sees the wound. “I got shot.” 

Zoro tilts his head to the side. “Just a little. Hold still.” He says, reaching over Law’s head for a dish towel to press against the wound. The rough fabric burns against the ripped flash and Law flinches despite himself.

Zoro wipes the blood off and Law dares a glance. “Oh thats so much worse when it’s yourself.” He mutters and Zoro snorts before he stands. “I need stitches.” 

“I know.” Zoro tells him as he moves about the tiny kitchen area of his boat, flicking on a kettle. 

“Please tell me you have a first aid kit.” Law says, letting his head fall against the wall.

“Why would I have a first aid kit?” Zoro asks as he rummages around a cupboard and unearths a sewing kit.

Law whines miserably. “How did this happen?”

“Police shot at me. Ricochet probably hit you.” Zoro explains and pulls a face. “Stupid guns get faster every year and I’m out of practise.” He says like its a completely normal sentence to say.

Law laughs weakly. “You deflected gunfire with swords that’s still pretty impressive. Didn’t know that was possible.” Zoro makes a dismissive noise, pours the boiling water from the kettle into a pot on the stove to keep it cooking and Law closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to see him desinfect a sewing needle in boiling water. 

“At least it was a small caliber. Older bullets would have broken your arm.” Zoro says.

“Speaking from experience?” Law blinks and sees Zoro stick his entire arm into the hot water.

“Yeah.” Zoro’s arm is coated in black when he takes it out of the water, needle and thread pinched between his fingers and a dripping steaming towel in the other.

Law gapes. “Your arm-“ He starts to say as the black reteats from Zoro’s arm, leaving only his hands and the needle covered in it. “Is that also part of the immortality thing?” He asks as Zoro crouches back down.

“No, that’s armament haki.” He says and presses the hot towel against Law’s wound. Las inhales sharply through his teeth, legs kicking out without his control but Zoro’s grip is firm. “It makes my skin harder and whatever I am pouring energy into. It’ll make the needle sharper.” He explains and if Law weren’t bleeding right now he would make fun of that concept.

“You- you said that before. Haki. In my apartment.” He says to think about anything else but the pain and the fact that he got fucking shot. 

“That was a different kind.”

“How many are there?”

“Three.”

“Armament and what was the one you used back then?”

“Haki that makes you pass out.” 

Law takes a moment to give Zoro a glance. “Really?”

Zoro just hums, focused on sewing Law’s skin back together. 

“Who came up with that name?”

“Dunno, never asked.”

“I could come up with a better name.”

“You do that.” Zoro says, looking at him and grabbing a pair of scissors to snap the end of the thread. And Law realizes he’s already done sewing the wound.

“You’re fast.” He says, looking down to examine the work. Five neat and even stitches stand out starkly against his skin. “And good.” Law admits. It took him two years of med school to sew skin that neatly.

Zoro presses the burning towel back against the skin making Law hiss in pain. “I had practice. Mostly on clothing though.” He says and rips apart what appears to be white sheets.

“Really?” Law asks with a whine as Zoro uses the scraps to wrap his arm.

“We’re heading somewhere I can pick up some supplies. Calm down.” He tells him and Law scoffs.

“I think I am remarkably calm considering the circumstances.” He says.

Zoro blows out a breath from his nose. “True,” He admits. “Are you going to pass out?” He asks, looking at Law with faint amusement.

Law squints. Everything feels swimmy as the adrenaline fades. “Are you using the makes-you-pass-out haki?”

“No, do you want me to?”

“No, I think I have it covered actually.” 

“I’ll wake you when we get to land.”

[ramshacklerumble]

For the OC ask meme!

9 and 12 (fave teach and fave event/role in it)

Nine has been answered here! But twelve—!

stitch event, my beloved. spoilers ahead since it hasn’t hit en servers yet

(this also wound up kinda long but its because its crucial to me okay)

it was a tie between this and the ghost marriage event, but storyline wise i have to go with lost in the book with stitch because it’s the event that officially launches the 💖KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE 💖 factor within the quasi-glorious and utterly exhausting misadventures of one gia yugo.

working with the assumption this is the final escapade of the trial by fire that was gia’s freshman year, one would think the approach of summer vacation would give them some semblance of comfort. once everyone takes their leave, gia and grim get left with the run of the school grounds— something gia fully planned to take advantage of in preparation of sophomore year.

suddenly being stuck on a magic island certainly put a pause on things. and gia…doesn’t seem to mind… like at ALL.

to everyone’s surprise, the normally straight-faced, busy-bodied prefect of ramshackle dorm is having the time of their life. smiling, openly playful, quick to joke— even volunteering to sing at the campfire alongside floyd and stitch’s ukulele strumming— ace initially worries gia might have hit their head when no one was looking.

after some needling on his part, a conversation that takes place during his suisui wear vignette when they go out on patrol, gia finally tells him despite being stranded on an island, they can’t help but feel…happy that it happened.

it’s a tad selfish, they admit. but while they were hearing everyone’s plans for summer vacay back at the library, there’d been this sense of bitterness welling up inside them. they were going to be stuck at school stewing over the threat of what their future held while everyone else got to go home and spend time with their families or whatever.

they didn’t have to think about what was going to happen after graduation.

gia on the other hand isn’t sure what comes next and that terrifies them. but they’ll deal with their crushing fear of the future when they get back to school, for now they’ll take the island for the breath of fresh air that it is.

yeah, okay, being stranded isn’t exactly a vacation— but it’s a bit of a ‘been there, done that’ type of deal. in comparison to their arrival at night raven, being stuck on an island with perfect weather, tons of food, and an alien that can make anything out of everything is a cake walk.

and besides…even if they do wish deuce was there enjoying the sea breeze with them. they’ve got ace, don’t they?

there’s a little more to this convo i’d like to flesh out, but there is a notable shift between gia and ace during the final days on the island. they are almost inseparable, often making up excuses to pair up for the day’s chores and generally having fun together.

ace comes to realize that this “new gia” isn’t actually new and in fact, he’d been catching glimpses of them throughout the school year. it’s the reason why he sticks by them even when things get real fucking bad, real fucking quick.

he’d sooner go through another ten overblots scenarios than verbally admit this, but in truth, he’s come to deeply care for this weirdo. the thought of someday they might not be there anymore leaves an awful taste in his mouth.

when the time to leave on the spaceship comes and they’re rocketing towards the atmosphere, ace sees this side of gia already beginning to slip back into hiding. before he can really stop himself, he tells them not to shut themself in again. they’re gonna have just as much fun together as they did on the island when they get back to school, got it?

i cannot explain how upset i was when the group wakes up with no recollection of everything that happened— the ‘group forgets the entire adventure they went through at the end of it all’ trope is the bane of my existence BUT we see that the group has an inkling that SOMETHING happened between them and i’m running with that SO—

gia didn’t get the chance to reply to ace’s statement on the ship, but they are absolutely BEAMING after they wake up, look at him and say: i feel like…we were just talking about something.

and ace is confused, more so a little stunned by how natural the smile looks on gia’s face, but he can’t quite shake the feeling either.

no one can quite put a finger on what happened, even though everyone suddenly has the urge to have an outing to the beach together despite the majority of this group never having hung out together in such a way, but no one fights it either.

gia personally is excited to have something to look forward to for once.

when the time to go meet at the beach comes, there is the reoccurring phenomenon of group déjà vu they all just decide to shrug at. but for ace, he gets hit by it the hardest whenever he steals a glance at gia.

they dont look any different, save for the smile they shoot him when they catch his eye.

(hey but gar isn’t gia shipped with floyd. yes, my love. they are. and they’re shipped with ace too. it’s eventually a polycule that forms after they all graduate named dragon roll— hey dont run, dont run i promise i make it make sense coME BACK—)

wanna send an ask or get some yourself? here!