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#my favorite fic tag
ricesinspo · 2 months
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☆ 'someone finally cares about you' prompts.
by @ricesinspo, credits appreciated!
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[★] they wrapped their arms around you - you can't remember the last time someone hugged you like this.
[★] getting pulled aside while everyone else is yelling at you. they get you like none of the others do; they know not to yell.
[★] patiently listening to all of your problems. like actually listening.
[★] ^ with no judgement.
[★] they notice whenever something's wrong.
[★] letting you cry into their arms. telling you it's okay, everything is okay - and you know it's true because they're with you.
[★] letting you cry at all; realizing you don't have to hide your tears in front of them.
[★] "in a world where people don't care about me, i'm lucky to have you."
[★] ^ and then they're like "who hurt you" / "where are your __ i just want to talk" lmao
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guardianhyren · 3 months
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Eldritch Nika!!! I’ve always been fascinated with this idea ever since reading those fics where Nika is a separate entity (that may or may not have a an agenda of his own) and slowly influences Luffy to being a facsimile of himself. The You are my Sunshine and At the Gallows… are my favorites of Luffy being… slightly off and uncanny due to Gear 5/Devil Fruit. And all those “Gear 5 at Marineford” fics where everyone is horrified at the reality bending he does (Time Moves Through You being my favorite) are fantastic and big inspiration.
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salemoleander · 10 months
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It goes like this:
Scar seeks Grian out as soon as they respawn on Hermitcraft. Congratulating, reminiscing. Holding him when he starts to shake. (He was already forgiven before Scar stopped breathing.)
Bigb reaches out quickly- to check in, to see if he's okay. Says he had fun, as hard as it was- says he'd come back. There's an anxious quality to his messages that Grian is pretty sure wasn't there before. It's hard to remember that people ever acted differently; hard to keep straight who they were and who they all became.
At a time too late for visitors to really be wanted, Cleo comes knocking. She's not done feeling the emotions of what happened, but there is an understanding between their and Grian's sharp, bitter edges. Survival and love, twined together. She thanks Grian for letting her experience that kind of loyalty. It's as close to forgiveness as he'll get; he accepts with gratitude.
Skizz and Impulse arrive together two days later to see him - the over-loyal martyr and the under-loyal spy, happy they could play together. Skizz is easy; he forgives outright and out loud, with a declaration that he knows Grian tried his best to make things fair and fun. Pulled aside while making tea, his apology to Impulse is more concrete: a promise of future loyalty.
He receives a short message from Joel, requesting that next time he have more chances and reason to kill. Next time.
The moon is rising, and Bdubs is online, which means something is terribly wrong. One flight and several hours of coaxing later, Bdubs is close to the edge of sleep. He tells Grian he loves him; loves Cleo, loves Tango, adores them all. Would have wasted so much time not knowing everyone, without this game. Forgiveness is beginning to feel like nausea.
Jimmy doesn't acknowledge there's anything to forgive; dead too soon to know how painful things became. Still, he says 'No hard feelings'; still, he hugs Grian so tight at the next MCC his ribs creak.
Etho doesn't say anything, but he sends over a book of suggestions and ideas for the next series. He nods at Grian once, sitting at a campfire with his focus rapt on Ren telling a story, and Grian knows what he means.
Outside his front door one day is a large floral arrangement from Scott, with a note that only says "Thanks for the game". It is filled with poppies. Grian stares at it for far too long. He does not bring it inside.
Tango insists they play minigames together, talk, tour bases. And finally, he says so very casually that he had fun, and would like to play again. Have the chance to win. Grian knows he will do it all again. (Grian suspects Tango will not win, and he knows winning isn't worth it; he keeps those pieces of information to himself.)
Martyn writes a week later. He is grateful for having met Ren; bitter grief still sits in the gaps between his words. He say it was all worth it. Grian is too relieved at the forgiveness to call him on the lie.
Ren takes the longest. Several weeks come and go before Grian happens to cross paths with him. At first every word sticks like ice in his throat, but gradually the tension cracks and jokes seep through. Grian takes the plunge and apologizes for killing him (Scar did it, but by then the division between their actions was a technicality.) Ren says that given how it ended, there is nothing to apologize for.
He asks if Grian has forgiven himself, yet, for the end. There is an answer, but not one Ren will want to hear, so he just shakes his head.
Grian wakes from a dull, dreamless sleep and begins jotting down ideas for another series the next day.
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steddielations · 2 months
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when steve gets all protective of eddie but they’re “just friends fooling around” right
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preview from Trouble
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caycanteven · 10 months
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Not me out here spending 11 hours making a full illustration for a fic I’m currently reading. I still feel I could do more but I think my hand is broken. Not me out here spending 11 hours making a full illustration for a fic I’m currently reading. I still feel I could do more but I think my hand is broken.
A lil project I have been working diligently on after reading half way through Abyssal Lights by @dracoria-nebulae and honestly, I can’t tell you how excited I was that reader was an eel siren man. So I cracked some knuckles and got to work. Red is also here flirting with the big fishy as expected of him (I couldn’t not draw him, he’s my fav lmfao)
Check out Abyssal Lights on AO3 and give this amazing author some love please <3 (I also plan to do something for Smoke and Mirrors once my hand heals cause MMMMMMMM Nostra....)
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hrokkall · 1 year
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Recharging
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starrystevie · 8 months
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such a heavenly way to die | written by rogersharringtons on ao3
“I wish I could have had sex just once before I bit the dust.” The tension in the air is thick, palpable, living up to every cliche Steve’s heard before. He has half a mind to pull out his pocket knife to see if he can really cut through it. Steve doesn’t dare break the moment, though, letting Eddie breath a few times before continuing on.  “It’s hard enough dying a loser, but a virgin? Talk about lame.” Eddie laughs, and it’s not real, it’s something broken and fake in the way it climbs out of his throat. “What’s worse, I haven’t even kissed anyone. Jesus Christ, what a sad legacy to leave behind. Practically Shakespearian levels of tragic.”  Eddie has on that sad, self-deprecating smile that pulls at Steve’s heartstrings every time he sees it. It’s too much before the end of the world, it’s too much for Steve who knows this is his last chance to be brave in a way he hasn’t had to be before.  “Kiss me.” Steve can see how Eddie freezes, his chest the only thing that shows he’s still alive because of the way it’s puffing out with Eddie’s deep breaths. His sad little smile turns down and Steve decides he hates Eddie’s frown even more. “God, pity is even worse than embarrassment. Thanks, Steve”
their final fight against the upside down will happen in the morning, so eddie admits a secret that needs to be said before the end of the world. what kind of monster would steve be to not help him out?
17k+ words | one shot | explicit
tags: angst with a happy ending, virgin eddie munson, accidental power bottom steve harrington, first times, porn with plot
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soapysudz · 2 months
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bbb-bbbbbbb · 8 months
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touched up some daisy, daisy fanart i made at least a year ago but never got to post
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pidgedee · 3 months
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He takes it.
everyone should read “one fish, two fish” by @misotofu. this is my message to the world. thank you.
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non-plutonian-druid · 1 month
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[ID: a three color drawing (black, white, and teal) in the style of Seth’s illustrations from the Lemony Snicket series All The Wrong Questions. Five and Viktor (both about 13) are seated at the counter of a diner, talking. Luther (in his 20s), who is a patron seated next to them, looks concerned about what he is overhearing. Grace stands behind the counted holding a coffee pot and gazing into space. A missing poster for Ben is taped to the counter. In the mirror behind the counter, a reflection Diego and Patch (both 15) are visible in a booth. End ID]
i really should leave time between art posts for them to breathe and accumulate their fair share of notes, but also i need something to do while im waiting for my onions to caramelize.
In this installment: Five and Viktor meet over breakfast to discuss business, Luther is a Concerned Citizen, Diego and Patch also meet over breakfast to discuss business but in the background, and Grace is NOT a robot and this diner is NOT fully automated no sir. Also as usual Ben's face provides some ambiance, thank you Ben.
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introspectivememories · 3 months
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what's wrong with data analyst bernard?
summary: tim's a workaholic ceo. bernard is, to put it simply, a down-on-his-luck loser with a kid to take care of. somewhere along the line, they meet. (very loosely based on the 2018 hit kdrama, "what's wrong with secretary kim?")
A/N: for @chamiryokuroi bc this fanart has given me brainrot since the moment i saw it. but also bc, i missed writing and your art helped. i hope you like it. (more notes at the end.)
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Today is a good day, Bernard thinks happily, brand new ID badge bouncing on his tie. It's his first day at Wayne Ent. and Mori had sent him off with a hug and muttered, "have a good day, Tou-san." It's been bouncing around in his head all day. Tou-san, Tou-san, Tou-san, he's really a dad now. He's got to make sure Mori has everything he needs and this new job is going to make sure he can do that.
Shaking his head once to clear it, he takes a sip of the complimentary coffee a team member bought him for his first day. His team leader, Young-joon Lee, is taking him on a tour of the building. Young-joon is a wonderful man in his late 30s but it's very clear that he's been consumed by the office lifestyle.
"...and here is our magnificent lobby!" Young-joon is saying as he tunes back in. His team leader spreads his arms wide out as he speaks, "Everyone knows the lobby but it's my personal philosophy that making friends or at least being on amicable terms with the ground floor staff will make your life easier."
Bernard laughs politely, "I know what you mean. I can't tell you how many times being nice to the host at the restaurant I used to work at saved my butt during rush hour."
"A man after my own heart!" Young-joon says, smiling widely as he leads him to the help desk.
Bernard tilts his head up to look at the skylight. It's a gorgeous thing with little animal motifs running alongside it. It lights up the lobby bringing a welcoming feeling into it. With the sunlight pouring into the room, along with the din of busy workers in slacks running to and fro, it really feels like stepping into a movie.
Are you seeing me Darls?, he thinks with a childlike glee, hand coming up to thumb at his badge again, I made it!
"This, my friend," Young-joon says, pulling up to the help-desk, "is our wonder-duo. Tamara and Abhishek. They practically run this building. Lord knows we'd be tripping all over ourselves without them."
Tamara and Abhishek smile as they get introduced.
"They run this building?" he asks confusedly.
"You see, young padawan," Abhishek says, "not only do we help the people that come in here asking questions or for instructions, we also answer any questions the staff has for us."
"Things like, 'What's HR’s number?' or 'Can you page Data for me?' or 'No seriously, I'm calling HR on this man right now. What is their number?'" Tamara says grinning.
Bernard laughs. It feels like that's all he's been doing since he got here. "You have to tell me the story on that one day."
"Sorry," Tamara says, faux-apologetic, "the minimum clearance on that story is half-a-year. Gotta level up."
His cheeks hurt from smiling. This is his and Mori's new beginning. This is where they level up. Nothing's gonna stop him now.
"Do you know the story behind that one?" he asks, turning to Young-joon.
"Of course! But where would be the fun in telling you? You have to stay the six months and if luck comes my way, longer."
"You want me for longer?"
"Of course, I saw the way you worked during those practice problems in the interview. I had to fight the other team leaders for you. It was brutal."
"Get back I say!" Young-joon says, miming a sword fight. A pleased warmth builds in his chest; they wanted him, they wanted him!
Darls you better be fucking watching this. I'm movin' up in the world.
"Ooh, send me that footage. I wanna see our newest recruits skills," Abhishek says.
"You got the data team fighting over you?" Tamara asks, eyebrows raised, "I wanna see it—"
Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the sound of both of their pagers pinging. Immediately going stock still, they start typing on their computers.
Bernard turns to Young-joon confused but his team leader looks like nothing is out of the ordinary.
"The boss is coming." Young-joon says, like that's a reasonable explanation for two people shutting down in the middle of the conversation, "It's always quite a spectacle and they always have to notify the other execs. Just watch."
Still, the boss? Maybe Bruce Wayne will say 'hi' to him and he'll charm the CEO and Mr. Wayne can figure out a way to—
No, no. He's done making those kinds of fantasies. Nobody is coming to help. Bernard is going to figure out his life on his own, he is going to take such good care of his kid, and he is not going to wait for some rich billionaire to swoop in and take care of him. He got this far didn't he? He'll get even farther.
He and his team leader lean against the help desk sipping coffee as they wait for the CEO to come in and sure enough, a black Rolls Royce pulls up to the driveway in the front. The minute the door opens, flashes from the paparazzi's cameras start going off. Out steps a bodyguard in a black suit with an umbrella opened. From below the umbrella he sees a nice pair of brown loafers step out. The CEO seems to be wearing a navy blue suit today. The paparazzi roars and the flashes increase.
"Oh wow," a man remarks a few feet away from him, "the circus is strong today, huh?" His friend laughs.
A woman wearing red heels steps out after the CEO, the paparazzi flashes decrease dramatically. More bodyguards exit after the woman and form a square around the CEO and his assistant/secretary. They shuffle towards the entrance where he sees the elderly doormen greet the executives with a smile. Whatever they say is lost to the sound of the city but the doormen laugh and push the doors open.
Young-joon's been making small talk throughout the entrance and Bernard tries to keep up but whatever the hell is going on at the entrance is way more interesting than anything his team leader is talking about. As they enter the guards spread out and dissolve the square. The woman comes into view first, red heels with a black slacks and a white button down. She's holding a long coat in one hand and a laptop bag slung over her shoulder. She's gorgeous and clearly the one in charge, going by the way she barks orders at the guards.
Young-joon says something and he turns around to respond, grabbing his coffee cup off the desk counter. His CEO's loafers tap across the lobby's marble floor, something about it is comforting. A lull in the room's conversations causes the CEO's voice to carry over.
"...Tam, make sure the quarterly reports are on my desk by at least 4 today and make sure to push back the sales meeting by 30 minutes to an hour, the board wants to talk — Oh Mr. Bardakcı! Thank you for stay—..."
Bernard's heart jackrabbits in his chest. He knows that voice but- it can't be. It's not possible; he chose Wayne Enterprises for a reason. He's not supposed to be here. He's supposed to be at his father's company. Unless... there was a merger? No, that seems like the kind of thing the news wouldn't've shut up about. He would've known.
When was the last time you had time to sit down and read the news, Bear? Darls says inside his head
She's right. With filing for custody of Mori and graduating from college and the job search, he hasn't had time for much else. It's entirely possible that he could've missed one of the biggest mergers of the decade.
Fuck, Fuck.
He wasn't supposed to be here. Bernard was supposed to be moving on. He was supposed to be building a life for himself away from the shadows of his childhood. He was supposed to be forgetting that Tim Drake ever existed.
He has to make sure though. Turning his body around, he prays that it's not the man he thinks it is. But sure enough, there stands Tim Drake, resplendent in a navy blue suit and a golden tie.
Golden ties for golden boys, he thinks absentmindedly.
The suit fits him perfectly, stretching across his shoulders and wrapping around his waist. Even the tie looks knotted perfectly. How long did it take him to learn, Bernard wonders. He could never get it right back in high school. Does his assistant Tam do it- no, no! This is why he didn't apply to Drake Industries. Bernard can't do anything around Tim and Tim is never going to care enough about him to stay.
Tim's head seems to be turning in his direction and Bernard whips his head back to make sure Tim doesn’t even catch a glimpse of him. His hand twitches violently enough that the coffee cup falls out of his hand and spills all over the floor. The cup rattles deafeningly on the floor. Bernard can't fucking breathe.
"-ernard? Bernard!" his team leader's voice cuts through the haze in his head. Young-joon looks concerned, "Are you okay?"
He blinks slowly, "...What?"
"I said, 'Are you okay?’ You look like you've seen a ghost?"
No, Bernard thinks, seeing Darls would be preferable to whatever level of hell I've found myself in.
"I'm—, I'm fine." he says rather unconvincingly. His eyes dart back to the spill, "What am I saying? There's a large puddle of coffee on the floor. I—, I should get some paper towels for that."
"Do you have any paper towels, Wonder-Duo?" he asks, trying desperately to ignore Tamara and Abhishek's concerned looks.
"I already called the custodial staff," Tamara says slowly, like she’s trying not to spook him, "but if it makes you feel any better," she pulls out a huge stack of paper towels, "go crazy, I guess."
Bernard takes a handful of paper towels and gets to work. The cleaning is meditative and with each swipe of the paper towel, the puddle gets smaller. Bernard pretends the puddle is his feelings for Tim. Swipe, forget about the 4pm milkshakes and his laughter when Darls snorted milk out of her nose. Swipe, don't think about the way he used to smell. Swipe, he left and never looked back; you don't look back either.
The tap, tap, tap of loafer on marble is getting closer to them for some reason. Why is it getting closer? Does it not have staff meetings, market research, and people to leave behind?
"What is going on here?" Tim asks.
"Nothing much, sir." Abhishek responds, "Newbie just spilled some coffee."
Abhishek, no!
"Oh is that all? And he took the initiative to start cleaning instead of waiting for the custodial staff. You made a good choice, Young-joon."
"Thank you, sir!" Young-joon says, "I was taking him on the tour when you came in. Most newbies love the show so I thought we'd stop here for a little bit."
Tim laughs. Bernard hates that his heart still skips a beat at the sound.
A pair of brown loafers and a wool-covered knee slowly appear in his vision. Why is Tim crouching in front of him? Why won't this man leave him alone?
"This looks like quite a lot of work, let me help."
You can help by leaving me the hell alone, he thinks uncharitably.
"I hope you found the facilities to your liking," Tim continues, like he hadn't heard Bernard's thoughts, "My name is Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO."
I know, he wants to say. I know you're Tim Drake. I know you like to skateboard and that you stared at Tony Hawk's photo for an hour every day in high school ‘cause didn't want to be one of those people who didn't recognize him. I know you struggled with your dad not really being there. I know you loved Mrs. Winters as much as you loved your mom. I know that you like history more than any other subject even though your best was always math.
Bernard says nothing instead.
Tim laughs awkwardly and Bernard knows he isn't helping the conversation along but whatever, he's allowed to be petty, right?
"I assure you, whatever you heard in the tabloids and the news, isn't true. I promise I won't bite…," Tim’s voice trails off as Bernard lifts his head.
"...Bernard?" Tim whispers, he looks like he's seen a ghost.
Bernard tries for a smile, he's pretty sure it comes out looking like a grimace.
"Sir," he says nodding curtly, hands still moving to sweep up the coffee puddle.
Tim's hand reaches out to touch his face, as if to make sure Bernard is really there. Bernard recoils as Tim's hand grazes his cheek. Tim's hand hangs in the air uselessly.
"Bernard?" Tim says again, as if to make sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.
"That's my name, Sir," he says through clenched teeth, "don't wear it out."
He can feel Young-joon and the Wonder-Duo's confused stare but he says nothing. What would he even say, really?
Hey, this is my old friend Tim Drake? Hey, I used to know him like the back of my hand? Hey, our best friend died and it feels like I'm the only one still grieving? Hey, in my junior year, five different gangs shot up my school and my best friend died in my arms and he left and I had to pick up the pieces by myself? Hey, I'm the idiot that's still in love with Tim Drake?
The clack of Tam's heels comes as a welcome distraction.
"Tim!" she says, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, "What the hell do you think you're doing? We have to go talk to the board. Build rapport with your employees later."
Tim stumbles to his feet, "Yes, but—, I—, This is—"
He sounds like he's glitching. Bastard. Is it really such a surprise to see Bernard in a well paying job? Even Tam is starting to look a little concerned now.
"Explain later," she commands, dragging Tim behind her. Bernard keeps his head down and continues wiping up the coffee puddle. Sneaking a glance upward shows him that Tim keeps turning back around to stare at him.
For a moment their eyes meet, brown against blue. 'Bernard?' he sees Tim mouth. Bastard, saying his name so many times. Doesn't he know what that does to Bernard? Why does Tim insist on breaking his heart again and again and again? Was once not enough?
He's tired of putting these walls up and just for a second, he lets them come down. Let Tim see the entirety of his brokenness. Tim already has his heart, he can have this too.
'Tim' he mouths back, smiling sadly. Tim looks stunned and the rage that had been simmering in his gut begins to boil over.
Do you see what I've become? Do you see how thoroughly Grieves ruined me? Is this not your doing too? Why did you leave? Have you ever visited Darla? Why was it so easy for you to not look back? Was I not your friend? Or was it just a time pass? Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?
He watches until the elevator doors close, separating him from Tim once again. His body sags like a marionette cut from its strings and his fingers clench uselessly around the coffee soaked paper towels. A hand lands on his shoulder and he flinches.
"Hey, hey," Young-joon soothes from where he's crouched right next to him. When did Young-joon crouch down? How much time has he missed? "It's just me, Bernard. Are you okay? What was that? Does our CEO know you?"
He exhales shakily. He needs to get out of here. He needs to sob hard enough he throws up. He needs the steady press of a knife on his back. He needs things he's not allowed to have anymore.
Bernard shoots up so fast the world spins around him. holding onto the desk for support, he tries to smile at his team leader. It stretches across his face misshapenly.
"I'm—, I'm sorry," he says stumbling over his words in a rush to get them out, "I have to—"
He has to what? Pretend to not see Darls out of the corner of his eye? Pretend like his hands don't have blood on them? Pretend like he isn't seeing bullet wounds every time he closes his eyes?
"—go to the bathroom," he finishes lamely. Gathering up all of the paper towels, he walks away dazedly, ignoring Young-joon's calls behind him. He shoves the towels in the nearest trashcan, letting his feet lead him to the nearest bathroom.
The bathroom is thankfully empty when he enters and he locks the door behind him. Sliding down the door, he exhales shakily. There's not enough air in this room; he can't breathe. The fluorescent lights hum above their coverings. The one on the left flickers. Who's bright idea was it to install school lights in a business office's bathroom?
The world outside the bathroom rushes on too loudly. Somebody is talking about their vacation. Someone is bemoaning their presentation today. His chest is getting tighter. His hands come up to tug on his hair. Why can't he breathe?
The exhales are coming quicker and quicker. Something comes tapping down the hallway. It's the gunmen, it has to be. A quick glance down tells him all he needs to know: he's covered in blood.
It's Lila's, he thinks dazedly, I had to carry her into the office. Or no, it's Olu's. I held him when he died. He said, he said, what did he say?
Why can't he remember? He hits his head with the heel of his palm.
Think he tells himself, we have to tell Olu's parents what he said. He said—, he said—.
His body sags.
Oh now he remembers. He said, "I don't wanna die Bernard."
A whimper tears itself out of his throat and he slaps a palm over his mouth. There's blood smeared across his face now, he must look like he walked out of a slasher film. He has to be quiet. if he's too loud, the gunmen will find them and then they'll all be dead.
Cry quietly, he tells himself, Darls doesn't need—
Darla! How could he forget about Darla with a hole in her gut? He needs to get to her. Lurching forward, he scrabbles across Mrs. Castillo's linoleum floor. He's smearing Olu's blood everywhere. Why won't Nikhil stop fucking crying so loudly? Goddamn freshmen and their hysterics. Where is Tim? Is he safe? He can't lose both friends today, please Lord, please.
BANG!
A violent flinch tears through his body. He sobs audibly this time, gagging on his spit. It's the gunmen, it has to be. He hasn't even held Darls' hand or counted Tim's moles for the last time. Where are the Darls? She shouldn't be alone. She doesn't like violence like this.
"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" a voice asks from behind him.
He freezes. Slowly he turns around and nearly yells in shock. Falling back on his butt, he stares up at his friend.
(He has to be quiet, he has to be quiet, he has to be quiet-)
Darls is standing behind him still in her crop top and cargo pants. Her once smooth midsection, bloodied and warped. The bullet wound still drips blood.
Plink, plink, plink.
Bernard hates the scent of iron.
"Why didn't you save me, Bear?" she asks, her voice echoing, "I thought we were friends."
There’s blood dripping down the side of her mouth. Now he remembers, the blood on him isn’t Olu’s or Lila’s — although there is that too — it’s almost overwhelmingly Darla’s. He’s covered in it. Elbows deep in it. It streaks up his arms like a macabre tattoo. He wore a white shirt to school today. The stains will never come out. He is Carrie at the end of prom, mortified and humiliated.
He crawls backwards until his back hits the wall, the impact knocking him out of the worst of that night. He's back in the bathroom. The lights hum loudly overhead. Darla hasn’t left yet.
She tilts her head, “Why didn’t you help me, Bear? I thought we were friends.”
“We are,” he rasps out, “we are friends.”
“Are we?” her eyes have no pupils. His Darls had eyes that shone in the sunlight. His Darls is dead. “Then why am I still bleeding? Why am I still hurting? Why is there a bullet in my stomach, Bear?!”
She’s shouting by the end and he flinches. His hands can’t seem to stop tugging at his hair. The blood must’ve smeared all over it. Talk about taking strawberry blond literally.
“I swear I did everything I could Darls,” he sobs out quietly, voice cracking, “I followed all of Mrs. Castillo’s instructions as best I could. I put pressure and tied the dressing as tight as I could.”
“You thought that was enough?” she snarls, hands coming down to grip the wound. It twists grotesquely; he gags, “You think any of that matters when I’m dead and you’re still alive?”
“Please, please. You know I wouldn’t leave you to die, Darls. Please, please, please believe me.”
“Liar, liar!” she screams, blood dripping out of her mouth onto her pink LOVE shirt. It darkens as each drop hits it. Soon it’ll be completely drenched and she’ll be drowning in it. Where did his smiling friend go? “I’m dead, Bear! I’m dead, dead, dead and it’s all your fault! Why didn’t you save me?! Why didn’t you save me?!”
He keens, body curling in on itself. One hand goes down to press on his throat; he’s making too much noise. Nikhil’s just a freshman. He shouldn’t have to die just because Bernard couldn’t shut up for once in his life.
“Please,” he whispers raggedly, “I tried, I tried. I swear I tried, Darls.”
“It hurts, Bear,” she sobs. Darla’s too young to be sounding so wrecked, “It hurts so much. Please help me.”
All of sudden, it’s too much. The taste of iron sits heavy on his tongue and Darla won’t stop sobbing. His fingers fumble for his phone and he presses one. It rings once, twice and finally on the third ring does a voice answer.
“Bear?” the other side says groggily.
“Ty please, I can't do this anymore,“ he sobs.
Tyrone suddenly sounds a lot more alert, “Bear what’s going on?”
“Darla won’t stop crying and she keeps on screaming that it’s my fault she died.” he wails, “I know I should’ve done more but please, can you tell her I tried? That I stayed with her until the end? She won’t listen to me, Ty. She won’t listen to me.”
There’s a muffled yell of ‘Babe!” on the other end. “Yeah,” Ty breathes out, “I’ll tell her.”
“You put me on speaker, okay?” Ty instructs, “And you gotta tell me if she’s nodding or if she’s gone or if she said anything, alright? I can’t see her.”
“Okay,” he whispers, pulling the phone away from his ear to press the speaker button.
“You tell me when to start, Bear,” he says, voice filling the bathroom. Darla looks up from where she’s sobbing.
“You can start now Ty,” he rasps out, holding the phone out.
“Hey Darla,” Ty says, “Bear told me you said a lotta mean things about him. Stuff like, ‘he’s the reason you died’ and that ‘he never cared’. Darla, you gotta believe me when I say Bear never stopped caring. He held your hand the whole way through. Told you stories about all the things you two were gonna do once you got out of that nurse’s office. He tried, Darla, honest. I’ve never seen him as focused as when you stopped breathing and Mrs. Castillo had him give you CPR. He couldn’t stop sobbing the whole time.”
“But I’m still dead,” she says.
“But I’m still dead,” he repeats.
Ty inhales sharply, “Yeah,” he says thickly, “you are. And I’ll never stop being sorry about that. But you can’t take that out on Bear. He’s just trying to live his life.”
Darls’ face twists up like a childs, “But it hurts,” she cries.
“But—, but it hurts,” he repeats, voice hitching.
Ty curses, “Oh, fuck. I can’t do this. Babe, can you—?”
“Yeah, of course.” 
“Hey, Darla. It’s me, Jimmy from the football team. I don’t know if you remember me but I remember you. After high school, me and Tyrone ended up getting married. Somewhere between shitty weed brownies and bad college parties, we fell in love. Isn’t that nice?”
Darls nods; he tells them as such.
“We visited you after the ceremony. I hope you felt that wherever you are these days. But the point I’m trying to make is that from all I’ve told you just now, you can probably figure out that Ty and I didn’t go pro like we planned. The shooting fucked up Ty’s knee and and my arm. After the hospital stays, playing football for a whole bunch of people just didn’t sound appealing anymore. We’re high school teachers now. Ty teaches math and I teach gym. When it rains or gets cold, my arm and Ty’s knee hurts like hell. But Darla, it doesn't hurt forever. It gets better, I promise.”
“Darla,” Jimmy says, voice unusually serious, “you’re right, you are dead and it does hurt. I’m sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I don’t know if it’ll ever go away for you; I’m not too much of an expert on the supernatural. Ty’s the smart one, after all. But I love you, Ty loves you, Bear loves you. I hope that when it hurts the most you can use that as a balm.”
“Auntie Bea loves you too!” Ty’s mom hollers from the background, “Aunt Betty, too!”
Ty laughs wetly and Jimmy snorts, “Does that sound okay?” they ask.
Darls smiles, her teeth stained red from all the blood that built up in her mouth. Bernard misses her with an ache he feels in his bones. Darls nods.
“She nodded,” he says quietly. He blinks once and she’s gone. Where did she go? Doesn’t she know that the gunmen are still at large? She needs to be somewhere safe. He can’t lose a friend today.
“Bear, Bear, you gotta breathe. Take a deep breath for me, c’mon,” Jimmy says.
“She’s gone, Jim. She’s gone again. Why does she keep leaving?” he says, crying. His body can’t stop trembling. How long has he been here? How much time has he missed?
“I miss the cult,” he whispers, “I never had things like this happen when I was with them.”
“Yeah,” Ty snaps, “‘Cause you were high off of like 50 different pain meds ‘cause you let them whip you.”
“Ty, not helping.”
“Move over, let me talk to him."
"Hey, sweetheart," Auntie Bea's voice crackles through his tiny speaker, "I know you're tired and I know you're hurting. I know you miss the cult but you gotta breathe for me, okay? You're gonna pass out otherwise."
"I can't, I can't," he gasps out. 
"Sure you can, you just gotta tell me five things you can see. Can you list those five things for me?"
Bernard desperately tries to get his breathing under control, "The sink is dirty."
"Good, good. Anything else?" 
"The tiles need to be re-grouted."
Aunt Betty barks out a laugh. Bernard's lips twitch upward.
"Keep going."
"My pants, my white shirt, my ID badge," he rattles off.
They talk him through the rest of the grounding techniques and by the time he feels like he's in control again, he's exhausted. His eyes hurt and his throat is dry. 
"Can you tell us why you spiraled so hard, Bear? This hasn't happened in a long time," Jimmy asks.
"I spoke to Tim again," he says simply. He pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to the sink. Setting the phone down on the counter, he grips the sink with both hands and just breathes. The Bernard in the mirror looks like he just came out of a warzone, eyes haunted, hair messed up. 
"Oh fuck," Ty says, "Where did you even meet him?"
"At my new job at Wayne Ent."
"Why would you apply there?" Jimmy asks, stressed.
"I didn't know! It's not like I've had a lotta time in the past few years to check the news!"
"Well, whatever, what’s done is done." Ty says, ever practical, "Are you going to quit?"
"No!” he says vehemently.
“No,” he repeats quieter, “Wayne has the best benefits and Mori needs that. I’ll just suck it up and try to avoid him.”
“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Aunt Betty says.
“Ma!”
“Oh be quiet Jimmy. I’ve never heard of a more stupider thing. He’s your CEO, Bear, and he knows you work there. He’s obviously going to want ‘to catch up’ or whatever. There is no avoiding him. Can you handle that?”
What can he say? Aunt Betty is right. He can’t handle talking to Tim. Even seeing Tim felt like touching a live wire. He can’t deal with another episode. Mori doesn’t need him to be fucked up, Mori needs him to be the stable adult he promised the courts he was. 
“You can’t, sweetheart,” she says softly, “you can’t handle it.”
There’s some shuffling on the other end of the phone. 
“Bear,” Ty says gently, “I love you, man. You’re my brother. Jimmy loves you, Mama loves you, Aunt Betty loves you. But you gotta start thinking about therapy.”
“I know, I know,” he sighs, “I shouldn’t’ve dragged you into this. I’m—”
Ty cuts him off with an exasperated huff, “It’s not about that Bear. I’ll keep talking to your hallucinations for as long as you need me too. Even when we’re seventy, I’ll do it for you. I don’t care about that. I care about you and I want you to be happy and healthy. I don’t want you to keep seeing Darla. I don’t want you to keep trying to scrub the blood off your hands. 
“And I know you’ve been avoiding therapy ‘cause you don’t got the money and ‘cause talking about your problems is scary but it’s not just you anymore. You got Mori now. That custody claim is going through. You can’t just avoid things ‘cause they’re hard now. You work at Wayne now; that paycheck is more than enough to set a few dollars aside each month to save up for therapy. Hell, mental health probably comes with your medical benefits. Please, Bear. If you can’t get help for you, then do it for us, for Mori. Please stop making us watch you hurt.”
Bernard exhales shakily.
“I never wanna find you the way we did after the cult, Bear. I never wanna see you in the hospital bed like that again. Please don’t do that to us, please,” Ty whispers.
Unconsciously, his hand comes up to rub at the scar left behind from the sacrifice. It stretches along the length of his sternum, jagged and rough. On good days, he can pretend that it’s a scar from a heart surgery. He doesn’t have that many good days.
Bernard presses the heel of his palms into his eyes before using his hands to scrub at his face. He’s always so tired these days.
“Okay,” he says simply, “okay.”
“Okay?” Ty asks hopefully.
“Okay, you’re right. It’s not just me anymore. Mori deserves the best and I’m gonna give it to him. And I love Tim, I think I’ll always love Tim but he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. So I gotta make my peace with it or I’ll go crazy.”
Ty whoops, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he chants.
“Bear, it’s still the middle of the workday,” Jimmy says, although he too, sounds happy. Auntie Bea and Betty are muttering about a feast, he thinks. “Don’t you have to get back to work?”
“Yeah, that’s if I’m not fired already,” he mutters.
“Hey!” Jimmy admonishes, “Optimism only, no pessimism.”
“Alright, alright. I gotta get back to work now. Thanks guys.”
“Of course, we’ll let you go now. Ma wants me to tell you that we’re having dinner at your place today.”
“Aunt Betty,” he whines, “I haven’t cleaned and you and Auntie Bea are just looking for a reason to spoil Mori.”
“Absolutely,” they say, unashamed, “he’s our only grandson. We have to spoil him.”
“Fine,” he sighs but he’s smiling. Fuck, he loves these people. God knows he wouldn’t have survived the past six years without them.
“Bye Bear,” they say before he hangs up, “Good luck on your first day!”
He cuts the phone and slides it back into his pocket. Turning on the tap, he splashes some cold water onto his face. Using his wet hands, he tries to rearrange his mussed up hair into something acceptable for an office job.
Time to face the music Darls, he tells her smiling face in the mirror. She gives him a thumbs up in return.
The walk back to his office feels like a death sentence. He’s fucked this up, he knows it. Freaking out over a small interaction with his CEO and then running away only to come back two hours later? It’s over, done for. Bernard takes comfort in the fact that at least the severance package will be nice.
Stepping into the office, immediately draws the eyes of his team members. Every step towards his team leader’s office feels nerve-wracking. Just before he enters, Esperanza, the team’s second in command, stops him.
“Whatever happened,” she says, “just explain it to him. Young-joon’s a reasonable man, he’s not gonna yell at you.”
Some of the tension leaves him and he nods. Knocking on the door, he enters. His team leader looks up and smiles.
“Ah, Bernard! Why don’t you take a seat for me?”
He crosses his wrists behind his back, “I’d rather stand, sir.”
His team leader looks confused, “‘Sir’? Just call me Young-joon like I told you.”
“Anyway, after you left, I took the liberty of going through your file to see if there was anything I missed. I hope that wasn’t overstepping my boundaries.”
“No s-, Young-joon. You’re fine.”
Young-joon sighs and pushes the file he was reading before Bernard came in forward. It’s his file. 
“I’m going to say some statements,” he says, “and I want you to confirm whether it’s true or not. If any of these questions make you uncomfortable, just tell me okay? I’ll drop it immediately.”
Bernard nods.
“You went to Louis E. Grieves Memorial High School.”
“Yes.”
“Based on the dates you put in your file, you were there for the shooting.”
“...Yes. Junior year.”
“You know our CEO.”
“Yes,” he breathes out.
“How?”
He used to fall asleep on my shoulder during lunch and I would listen to him breathe. He’s got moles all over his face. Darls once connected them with a sharpie. His step-mom was so hot, I thought I’d spontaneously combust every time she smiled. HIs dad didn’t really like me and flirting with his wife didn’t help my case. The Drake condo had a crocheted flower blanket on the sofa that his mom had made during her pregnancy. He liked to skateboard but couldn’t roller-blade to save his life. I have all this love and nowhere to put it.
“It’s a little private,” he says instead.
“I’m only asking because we work quite closely with him. We see him often and if that makes you uncomfortable, then I can have you transferred to another team.”
His shoulders sag, “We went to Grieves together for one year. Our mutual friend died. It’s a little hard to look at him.”
“Jesus Christ.” Young-joon says, “Okay well the offer is still on the table, Bernard. Do you want to be transferred?”
“No, I like your team. I’d like to stay,” he says, firmly.
“Are you sure?” Youn-joon asks, eyebrows raised.
“Yes.”
“Okay then,” and it’s like a switch had flipped. Gone is his serious team leader and in its place is the man he met this morning.
“If you plan on staying,” he says smiling, “then my primary recommendation is that you use the medical benefits the company gives you to find a therapist. If you need help, the infirmary here will walk you through it.” 
Oh thank god it comes included with his medical, Ty will be overjoyed to hear that. But first, he has to ask Young-joon why he’s doing all this. Bernard knows his experience with authority figures is a little skewed towards the shitty side of the spectrum but even so, people usually aren’t so kind in his experience.
“Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you fire me? Why are you helping me?”
Young-joon chuckles, “Do you want to be fired?”
“No! But still, why are you helping me?”
Young-joon sighs and stands up. Walking around his desk, he stops right in front of Bernard. Young-joon puts a hand on his shoulder.
“This city takes a lot out of its people, believe me I know. And you were so young, when Gotham took her piece of you. It wasn’t fair of you to go through that. Just like it wasn’t fair to me and my wife when we got kidnapped as children. These kinds of things don’t go away. I still get worked up over zip-ties. My wife still has nightmares. All you can do is learn to live with it.
“You seem like a good kid with a good head on your shoulders. I’d hate to see all that potential go to waste ‘cause you kept getting trapped in your mind. I had a lot of help to get to where and who I am today. Consider this, me paying it forward. One day, I hope you can pay it forward too.”
His eyes feel suspiciously wet. “Thank you,” he chokes out, “thank you.”
Young-joon laughs, “There’s no need for the waterworks, Bernard. Now, pack up your things and go home. You’re in no state to analyze data today but I expect you here at 9AM sharp tomorrow, alright?”
Bernard mock salutes, “Yes, sir.”
“Goodbye, Bernard.”
Right before he exits, he turns around and calls out his team leader’s name.
“Young-joon,” Young-joon looks up confused, “you can call me Bear, by the way.”
A wide grin stretches across his team leader’s face, “Okay then. Goodbye Bear, see you tomorrow.”
Walking out of the office, it feels like a burden has been lifted off his shoulders. Esperanza takes one look at him and snorts.
“You just got Young-joon-ed, huh?”
His jaw drops, “He does that often enough you guys have a name for it?”
The other team members laugh, “Welcome to Data Analysis Team 1, kiddo. We look forward to working with you from now on.”
Smiling, he gathers his things and leaves after a few goodbyes. Once outside the building, the smile drops. It’s an hour-and-a-half bus ride from Wayne Tower to his house. The bus stop sits right in front of the tower too. Some new initiative by the mayor to promote the city moving towards green energy. Hey look, even rich people take the bus! What a fucking joke.
The tower warps the sunlight around it and he stares up at the top floor. Is Tim watching? Can Tim see him from up there? Does he care or was it just the shock of seeing someone he once knew this morning? Has Tim ever thought about him, about them? Or were they just moments in his life? Perpendicular lines, intersecting once and then never again.
I miss you, he thinks staring at the top floor, I miss you more than anything but I’ll walk into oncoming traffic before I ever reach for you again.
The bus pulls up next to him and he snags a seat in the back. Dropping his head onto the seat in front of him, he stares out the window. Darls smiles back at him in the window reflection, perpetually sixteen. He’s twenty-two now.
Fuckin’ hell Darls, he thinks wearily, we’re really in it now.
Darls places her hand against the glass, he leans his shoulder onto it. If he closes his eyes, he can almost feel her warmth.
We’ll make it through, she says.
The bus rumbles forward and he lets the cracked streets of Gotham lull him to sleep. He’ll make it through.
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A/N: chami! i hope you like it!!! i've never gifted a fic before, i don't really know how this works. and to everyone who read it, i hope you liked it too! please leave your thoughts in the reblogs or replies!!! i miss the days when td:r was coming out and we were all collectively freaking out. anyway when i said loosely based, i really did mean loosely. props to you guys if you can figure out the direct references to the drama. but this is a one-shot. i'm not gonna be writing anything else for this 'verse? au? (god i'm always so worried im using em dashes wrong)
if you have questions or you're confused by something i wrote, feel free to ask questions or send an ask or message. oh, and i know some people like know the exact wordcount. so, it's exactly 6,785 words long. nice number right?
also, please note that if you want to make art or a podfic or hell, even fanfiction of this, feel free to do so! i hope that's not too presumptuous or anything. idk i see fanfic writers make this disclaimer all the time, so i thought i'd do it to.
thank you for reading!
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suntails · 8 months
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comm for a fic reflecting on silver's significance to their lives <3 <3 god this was so fun to work on, if u have an ao3 acct, i rec reading the fic :D
read here!
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reh-hateshumans · 6 months
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crybaby-bkg · 8 months
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“Are you ever angry?” You ask quietly, head resting in Bakugou’s lap. His thumb pauses where it strokes your cheeks, the far away gaze in his eyes suddenly snapping into focus as he looks down at you. He looks…different than you remembered, before you both were cast out of the pearly gates.
His hair doesn’t shine as bright as it used to, and it falls a little flatter without the halo pulling it up, soft. His eyes still hold that hardened gaze as a battle angel, but they’re deeper now. More sunken in and hollow, the flickering ichor now a stained crimson. His face is scarred and his hands are rough after the fall but he’s just—different.
“About what?” He asks, his lips pursed in confusion. You reach a hand up, stroking over his bottom lip, smooth a hand through his hair. You can almost feel the throbbing light radiating from him, can almost see how broad and ivory his wings would spread and hold you tight to him.
“It all. Everything. The fall.” You whisper, try not to shrink into yourself with the way Bakugou’s lip curls back in disgust. He pulls away from you and you sit up, resting on your knees, looking at him in such a way that his heart pangs in his chest.
His heart, something he’s never had a reason for when he still had his fists bathed in heavenly fire and no ounce of rebellion hidden under sinless skin. It aches in his chest at the mention of life after being kicked out with the only thing he could hold onto—you.
“Why would I miss my thoughtlessness? My inability to make a decision for myself? Why would I miss being a pawn?” Bakugou is all snarls, all snapping teeth and jowls, but it doesn’t scare you. He’s never scared you, even when his gait was limp from the impact of hard soil, and his hands grew rough, and his back grew jagged from ripped feathers.
“I miss it.” You whisper so carefully into the humid night, hands reaching for his own trembling ones. “I want to be holy again, Katsuki.”
He hisses at you, snatching away like you’ve burned him, like you’ve seized his halo and ripped it into two until it split into horns. Looks at you with such heavenly fire burning in his gaze that you want to shrink beneath him.
“Well—well I don’t. Find someone else who will, cause it sure as hell ain’t me.” You wonder who he’s trying to convince here, with his shaky voice and fluttering eyes and trembling mouth. You stare at him for a long while, lips wobbling at the gravity of it all. Your head hangs low, gathering yourself in your arms, head bowed to him—it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.
“Just hold me for now.” You murmur, eyes low as you settle yourself in his arms, forcing your way into his hold. “Please?” You tack on, unafraid of his bite, his snarl, his growl. Bakugou sits there stiffly for what feels like a century, but you’re used to waiting.
He gathers you in his arms slowly, pulling you into his chest, his body covering yours completely. And if you let yourself relax enough, you can almost feel the warmth of his wings surrounding you again.
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sassylegshayne · 1 year
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this is a bonus chapter for 'support your local caffeine dealer'
okay that being said AHHHHH!!!!! I've had this written for so long and ik chapter three of mmi is taking a bit so I wanted to post this now!! I love it, it's a peak into their relationship past the fic w lots of introspection from shayne, it's adorable! 2.8 words! enjoy xx mwah 💓
series masterlist
Shayne woke up much earlier than he planned to, so he found himself sat in silence at your shared dining table, staring at his mug of coffee. He unintentionally mirrored your actions in the exact moment that brought him to this point today.
The start of your relationship was a bit rocky, filled with pining and misunderstandings, but Shayne wouldn't change a thing about it.
Four and a half years, one shared apartment, and two cats later, everything felt right. Not perfect yet, but close. Your lives meshed together perfectly in every little way he never imagined it would.
You had similar food tastes, but neither of you liked the other person's favorite snacks or cereals, so no arguments about stealing. You like opposing chores, making it easily to share the weight. You showered at night, him in the morning. You liked the same books, so you shared your libraries now.
You'd been promoted recently, the position allowing a bit more flexibility with your schedule; so you and Shayne often woke up together in the morning and arrived around the same time at night.
The welcome addition of you to his friend group even meant that making plans was extremely easy. Shayne was also immensely thankful to have you with him at pretty much ever group outting.
He felt like you two knew every small thing about each other, so the secret he was keeping weighed heavy. For three months and twelve days he has been keeping the biggest secret from you, and everyone else.
The small velvet box sat in the bottom drawer of your dresser, stuffed between a pair of jeans that were actually too short for Shayne and a pair of Halloween themed sweatpants that matched a pair of your own. He could find it blindfolded at this point with how often he took it from it's spot, almost four times a day, contemplating when it would be the right time. It didn't feel right until earlier in the morning.
Just at 7:39AM, Shayne shot out of his sleep, his heart fluttering as he glanced over his shoulder, finding you softly snoring. His alarm hadn't gone off yet, the two of you didn't need to be up until around ten.
You had the day off and Shayne only had one shoot on his schedule, one you were going to be apart of.
You had been in a couple of shoots in the few years since your relationship had been known to the internet. Some fans had recognized you from the crew and casts personal accounts, especially Kimmy and Damien's.
You were very well received in your first appearance at Shayne's graduation, your speech bringing him and most of your friends to tears. After that you had been brought into an 'Eat It Or Yeet It" video, getting your first chance to witness your boyfriend's grave mouth first hand. After all of the love for you came in, you appeared on a Board AF' episode and began making memes for 'Who Meme'd It?'
You kept your privacy and boundaries still, your social medias were all still set to private, making it clear that you'd appear on occasions, but wouldn't join.
Shayne was fully supportive when you told him this after he mentioned the idea of you coming in for a video. You loved your job, having moved up into management of the shop, the promotion coming as a huge surprise to you, but not to Shayne.
Today you and Shayne were do on set at 2PM, shooting another TNTL episode, as per request of the other's lined up in the shoot. Damien and Courtney were quick to shoot Kimmy the idea, which wasn't hard to greenlight when the producer was your best friend. The easy part was over, convincing you was much more difficult. It tooka lot of coaxing from your friends, but Shayne remained neutral. It almost pissed you off that each time you asked him for advice on whether or not you should do it, he'd say it's up to you. Shayne couldn't help it, he still finds himself not wanting to push you too far, he still wants to protect you from anything he can. Most fans loved you, but what if it stops? He was still in shock of how much everyone seemed to like you. His heart couldn't help but flutter with pride and joy each time he read a comment that spoke highly of you.
It couldn't compare to the love Shayne has for you. He writes every small, tender thought he has about you down in his phone. He isn't sure when they started now, but it was definitely before you had started dating.
He started off using it to get things off of his chest, to write down the words of admiration that he wished he could tell you. Overtime it'd had begun to be every thought he'd had about you.
"I told the stars about you"
"you're the only one want to wake up next to"
"I wonder what goes through your mind when someone says my name"
Damien and Spencer have heard almost all of them, extremely supportive of him, always quick to call it sweet. That's then followed with different ways to call Shayne a simp. It turned into a joke between them, dubbing them Shayne's Simp Notes.
Gears were turning as Shayne shuffled from your bed quietly, grabbing his phone from the night stand before wandering into the living area, brewing coffee.
He took a deep breath, unlocking his phone as he finished replaying his morning in his head before noting the time. 8:17AM is when the perfect idea strikes, apparently.
Shayne was quick to open the notes app and begin writing out everything. He's loosely planned sketches for the show before but this was much bigger, he wrote out every detail to make sure it'd go right.
After about an hour of nonstop writing with Shayne's eyes glued to his screen, his coffee long gone cold, your yawn echos down the hall.
A smile stretches across his face as he finishes his last line, closing out of the app before setting his phone on the tabletop. You enter the room rubbing your eyes as yOu mile softly at Shayne. His ASU shirt covered your top half, an old pair of gym shorts covered your bottom.
Without a word, you made your way over to Shayne's lap, straddling him as you rest your head on his shoulder while he rubs your back gently.
The two of you tend to lay in bed together and cuddle if you're up before your alarms, enjoying the peace of being together before beginning your respective days. On the off days where that doesn't happen, you tend to make up for that lost time whenever you can, like right now.
"Ditch me on my day off, I see how it is." You chuckled as you sat up, rubbing your fingers lightly through Shayne's hair as he groaned playfully.
"I'm sorry, you're just dating an absolute genius, and I had a breakthrough, baby." Shayne laughed softly as you rolled your eyes; he moved to cup your cheeks pressing his lips to yours softly.
The two of you sat there for a bit longer, chatting until your alarms rang in your distant bedroom. You sullenly removed yourself from Shayne's lap, snagging his mug of coffee before disappearing down the same halway you'd wandered out of earlier.
"Ew, Shayne this is so old! How long have you been up?!" You shouted as your turned off the ringing, prompting a laugh from Shayne.
He makes sure to bring you a fresh mug, prepared just how you like as you're busy getting ready later. Your heart swelled at the small action.
It wasn't anything out of the ordinary from Shayne, he loved using small, subtle ways to show his affection. You always had fresh flowers from the very beginning of your relationship, sometimes you'd have more than one bouquet at a time. He's been a big fan of ordering things to you while he's away, off on shoots or even while hest at work.
He once ordered groceries to your apartment and video called you to cook together when he was on a trip to visit his parents.
You adored him so much. This relationship had far exceeded what you thought it could be, and you couldn't be happier. You're heart swells at just the thought of your boyfriend and everything he means to you.
The two of you arrived on set a bit early, giving you time to mingle with everyone. You were quick to dart from Shayne, heading toward Kimmy and Courtney across the room.
Shayne stood off to the side, staring at his phone screen once more. He felt like he was gonna scream, throw up, and cry all at once. He just needed to get through this. It's just an episode with his friends, he's gonna tell jokes and do his characters, his girlfriends gonna be there, it's gonna be amazing.
The box sat heavy on his thigh in the front pocket of his jeans, the outline barely concealed by the flannel he had buttoned over his white tee in an attempt to hide it.
Shayne eyed Kimmy, chewing his lip as she finally departed from her conversation with you. He was quick to grab her, requesting something weird of her. He needed you to go last, this wasn't something he wanted to have as the opening bit.
He kept the reasoning to himself, and Kimmy didn't seem too concerned about it so she happily agreed.
Once the others had arrived, Noah only setting the shoot back half an hour, they began rolling. You did great, getting Damien out quickly with an inside joke the three of you had shared after a trip to Universal one night.
Shayne was so nervous he found himself laughing his way through his joke, which eventually got Damien after it had become evident that Shayne wouldn't be able to stop his laughter.
His nerves had settled a bit, his arms wrapped around your shoulders, small kissed placed on your forehead between your bits, hidden by the divider.
You grinned as the end of the video neared, you being called to the yellow stool last. You filled your mouth with water and gave a thumbs up as you heard rustling from behind the divider.
"Okay, this isn't my turn but just wanna do this real quick" Shayne called out, peering around the corner as you shrugged.
After a few seconds, a toy crow flew over the clothing rack as Shayne belted out a purposefully bad impression of Train. You spewed instantly as cackling sounded from your boyfriend.
"I hate you!" You called out as you refilled your mouth, shaking your head.
"No, you don't." He called back, laughing.
The others' bits flew by as Shayne stood behind the divider, his wig and phone clutched tightly in his hands as he took deep breaths.
Shayne told you to close your eyes as he pulled on the curly, bob wig from a character of his.
You had a hate/love relationship of Shayne's simp character, Sir Phillip Simpne, so he felt it was right for this occasion. He had his phone hidden behind an open book as he moved to stand beside you on the stool. He cleared his throat, offering you a smile as your opened your eyes.
You groaned, keeping your mouth shut as you shook your head, determined to hold it over Shayne that he couldn't make you laugh with this bit.
"I haven't a poem for you today, m'lady," Shayne begun, trying his best not to laugh as you stared at him blankly. "I offer you something better. I bring love notes that I have written about the fair maiden before me today."
Shayne's palms felt sweaty as he looked down at his phone, deciding to drop the accent as he read to you, the giggles from others were silent to him.
"l'm gonna start from the beginning, kind of," He smiled, nodding as he looked up at you, removing the wig. "I wrote 'I never planned to like you this much and never planned to think about you this often' right before we started dating."
Shayne couldn't look at you as he felt tears prickle at his eyes, his throat running dry as he knew he'd run out of time.
Nobody in the room was counting anymore. Once Shayne had gotten more serious, the air in the room shifted and everyone grew quiet.
You sat in the chair, head tilted in confusion when Shayne had dropped the character, the game leaving your mind all together as you tried to process what was happening.
"Uh, 'I wonder if we ever think about each other at the same time.'" He kept his eyes on his phone, a bit scared to meet your eyes. You stared at him in perplexion.
"Okay, on my birthday I wrote 'of all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you', then the next day wrote 'there's been a place for you in my heart since we first met.'" Shayne sniffled, looking to you with teary eyes, chuckling a bit.
You took in his appearance with your brows furrowed, his cheeks were bright red, his blue eyes glistening.
"So, yeah, those are some of my Simp Notes." Shayne spoke softly as he caught sight of you laughing, some water dribbling from your lips.
You stood from the stool, taking a few steps away as you swallowed, wiping your mouth. You were still clueless as to what exactly was happening, but the name had caught you off guard and made you laugh.
Shayne felt like time slowed down, everything was going too perfectly as he removed the box from his pocket, your back still to him as you laughed.
He found himself grateful for your unwillingness to laugh at him, you allowed him to tell you some of the things he hadn't been able to before.
The energy had come back to the room, everyone laughing as soon as you broke, the assumptions previously made now leaving everyone's mind until Shayne drops to one knee.
A few gasps are heard as you turn back toward Shayne. small shriek leaves you as your eyes widden quickly at the sight.
You two had talked about marriage before, and you both wanted to get married, but you didn't expect this. Nothing could've given this away for you.
"I wanna spend the rest of my life making you laugh." Shayne chuckled as you laughed a rolled your eyes as the purposely bad joke.
"Y/N, will you marry me?" Shayne's voice barely audible, the crew further back hadn't even heard him ask.
"Yes, Shayne!" You squeal, your boyf- no.
Your fiance is quick to grab you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he lifts you up. The two of you are a mess of tears, smiles, sniffles, kisses, and whispers as the room is filled with cheers.
You and Shayne are quickly enveloped with loads of your friends, the shock and excitement evident throughout the room.
After a few minutes, Kimmy hugs you and Shayne tightly, congratulating the two of you continuously, quickly gasping as she looks up.
"I can't believe you didn't tell anyone!" Kimmy sniffles, smacking Shayne's chest lightly as he laughed. You looked to him with wide eyes, quickly looking to Damien in confusion as he shook his head.
"Yeah, I've had the ring for... uh, some time now" Shayne laughed, blushing brightly as you at him in awe. "I wanted to surprise you, and| wanted to have a bunch of people we care about with us to celebrate, it just felt right."
Shayne couldn't hide his embarrassment as you wrapped him into another hug, the two of you embracing each other for a few moments, happy tears falling from and for the couple.
"Oh my god, we're still doing a video, holy shit." She laughs, wiping her own tears as she quickly moved out of frame, the rest of the crew following suit. The cast quickly surrounded you once more, each with bright smiles and tear stained cheeks.
You sit back on the stool, grinning as Shayne stands beside you, his arm draped over your shoulders.
"Pst." Damien called loudly from Shayne's other side. "You should give her the ring, Shayne." He whisper-yelled, causing a fit of giggles to ripple through everyone, both you and Shayne blushing deeply.
He fumbles a bit as he opens it again, pulling the delicate, ornate ring from the box before sliding it on to your finger.
You pressed your hand on to your lap, grinning as you stared at the accessory that fit you perfectly in every way.
"I could not imagine being a comedian and having to go on after this guy." Spencer called from out of frame, causing Shayne to cackle.
You guys were quick to wrap up your outro, Shayne still wrapped around you the whole time, placing a kiss to your forehead as they called for a wrap on the shoot.
This was the perfect he was looking for.
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