#2am on a work night but I had to get it out of my system

[melonalemonade]

literally walked out of the cinema only 2 hours ago and now this happened

[killergee]

Part 3! Sorry for the late update, but here's the last part, my friends. I had no idea what to do, so I fell into a good old trope. Slight nsfw, but it’s mainly just Hoshina and his dirty mind, hehe. Oh, and some kissing.

Summary: Angry, frustrated, jealous, and trapped in an elevator. Who will crack first?

P1 P2 P3

Tagslist: @surprisemodafakas @yrxhyes @voidsatoru @vash-yuu @er0ssu @rosesandquartzz

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

Hoshina knew he was the only one at fault for testing his own patience, but God was he so sure he was going to explode if things continued like this.

He wanted you to be the one to take the final step and cross the distance. He wanted to see you want him like you said you did so many months ago. To see that passion for him once again.

That didn’t mean he waited around for you to confess, though. No, he didn’t hold back when it came to you.

If anything, he became greedy when it came to you.

Hoshina didn't know how he survived before, now knowing what your touch felt like. It felt like fire on his skin. One that left a burning desire that he only knew to quell by grasping at you for more. Yet, even then, it wasn't enough. You always left him wanting more. You left him clinging to what was left of his sensibilities to not take you there and then. Hoshina thinks he must be a masochist because of how he kept pushing for more, knowing you'll reject him or that he'll have to stop himself before he goes too far and ruins everything.

Yet, when you did accept his affections, the feeling was unparalleled. When you did reciprocate, it made him feel butterflies in his stomach. It made him feel a different type of warmth, a different sense of fulfillment. One that told him it was worth it to keep trying.

So, he gave in to his desires again and again and again. As long as he doesn't straight-up confess, he still has a shot at making you take action. Right?

Hoshina groans as he finishes another one of his reports. Mina has been working him to the bone lately. Taking him out of sessions to work on mission plans, interrupting him mid lunch to accompany her to meetings, even going as far as interrupting his midnight training sessions with you to ask for his opinion on the production of a new weapon. Hoshina swears he’s barely seen you for the last two weeks because of this. To say he was a bit annoyed would be an understatement. Especially since because of his busy nature, Mina delegated his tasks to you to handle. Tasks that included working with his unit.

Now, this normally wouldn’t be a problem if Kafka hadn’t taken such a liking to you. Hoshina should’ve known Kafka would like you after he overheard your conversation with him the first time. While trapped in his office, it takes all his efforts to not jump out the window and tell Kafka to take a step back from you. He didn’t know if it was the exhaustion, stress, or withdrawal from your presence, but he felt absurdly angry at seeing you being so friendly with Kafka. Hell, even seeing you laughing with his unit left a bitter taste in his mouth.

While you and his unit seemed to be getting closer, you and Hoshina haven’t made any progress at all since that night. Hoshina felt frustrated on so many different levels and mixed with the pressure to not disappoint his superior, Hoshina was so wired he could barely sit still. He nearly snapped his pen in half just thinking about it.

He either needed to train or fuck this out of his system.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything. The words on the paper in front of him were starting to blur, and he was seconds away from writing “because this is stupid” as his rationale for rejecting proposals.

Looking up at the clock and seeing the hand tick closer to 2am, he groans into his hands and decides that the responsible choice would be to go to sleep and pray that tomorrow never came.

Putting on his jacket, he barely gives his desk a second glance as he leaves to lock the office door. Once in the elevator, he pushes the button to the fourth floor and immediately slumps against the railing on the wall of the elevator. With his hundredth sigh of the day, he tries to think on the brighter side. Since no one would be up at this god forsaken hour, he didn’t need to wait for the elevator to open on every floor.

When the elevator stops, Hoshina rolls his eyes at his luck. Looking up at the ceiling and exhaling, he doesn’t bother to acknowledge the person entering the elevator.

It wasn’t until he heard the familiar click of your tongue does he snap his head down to see you standing beside him.

There you were.

Standing with your arms crossed and staring at the doors of the elevator as if they’ve wronged you. The object of his affections and his frustrations. The person he was craving most at the moment.

Seeing you in the flesh again, skin pink probably from showering, shirt unbuttoned a little too low combined with the scent of your faded shampoo wafting through the elevator…

Fuck it, the training room will have to do, Hoshina decides, quickly leaning forward to press the button to the second floor. He can feel the weird look you’re giving him, but he decides for both of your sakes he’s going to keep looking at the doors. God, he couldn’t believe your presence alone was doing it for him. He needed out now.

But, unfortunately for him, the world continued to ignore his wishes. With a slight tremble, the elevator slows in its tracks until it abruptly stops. Not being able to believe his luck, it wasn’t until the lights began to dim that he lets out a curse.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hears you say as you immediately dig into your pocket to get your phone. Pressing the help button on the elevator, he waits for you to finish your call with security. With the way you were scowling, he knew the news couldn’t be good. With it also being so late, he doubts anyone would come rescue you guys any time soon.

“Yea sure, we can have super suits and high-tech weapons, but god forbid we have a working elevator” you mumble sarcastically after hanging up the phone. Barely looking at him, you announce, “they said they’ll have it fixed within an hour.”

“That’s fucking great,” Hoshina groans, massaging his temples with one hand as he curses whatever god fucking with him right now. Finally turning to look at you, he notices how far you were from him. You were practically squishing yourself into the corner of the elevator to distance yourself. With the night taking away his patience, he comments without any restraint. "Now what’s got ya so pissed off?”

You turn to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“I said what’s got ya so mad ya can’t even stand to be in the same space as me,” Hoshina scoffs, adding fuel to the flames. “Scared I got cooties? A little too late for that, I’m sure.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You hiss, anger rolling off you. The piercing glare you sent his way satisfied him in a twisted way he couldn’t understand. He’ll blame the adrenaline and the frustration.

“What are you even doing here so late? Ah, sneaking out from the Captain’s room, I’m sure." You spit venomously, mocking his phrasing. "Wasn’t satisfied enough, so you’re coming to me?”

“Now what the hell are ya going on about?”

Your eyes narrow a fraction more. “Oh sorry, Vice-Captain. Did I hit a nerve? Sad that the Captain didn’t like you enough to let you stay the night?”

“You’re being ridiculous, you’re lucky no one else is here to hear you say that. If ya weren’t you, I’d have you punished for talking about Min- Captain Ashiro like that.” Shit, he was losing his grip.

You let out a hollow chuckle devoid of any humour. “No, no, you don’t need to correct yourself like that in front of me, Vice-Captain. I won’t tell anyone,” you say, drawing out the syllables of his title.

“Don’t call me that, y/n,” he growls. “Nothing is going on betwe-”

“You think I’m fucking stupid? Everything you’ve done to me. The late night training sessions, 'working' together on reports, having lunch together, everything that we’ve done together you’re now off doing it with her.” You continue, your voice getting more heated with every word. “Her interrupting us again and again, you think I can’t take a fucking hint? I know my place now, so you don’t need to worry about anything.”  

“Y/n, it’s nothing like that. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t b-”

His explanation falls on deaf ears as you continue your angry rant. “You know what? Kafka was right.”

Heart stopping, the flash of heat Hoshina felt throughout his body broke the dam holding the last bits of his sanity. “What’s Kafka got to do with anything?”

“Kafka noticed how you two were always together for the last couple of weeks. I told him it was nothing, but I guess I owe him an apology. I’d hate to see the look on his face when I tell him.”

“Ya seriously trusting Kafka over me?”

“I mean, why not? He’s trustworthy, he’s kind, he’s reliable-”

Hoshina lets out a hostile scoff, “Oh, and I’m not?”

“He’s never touched me and then gone off and-”

“He’s never what?” Hoshina pushes off the wall, making his way into your corner. “He better not touch you the way I do. And even if he did," his eyes gleam in a dangerous manner, "he'll never be able to make you feel the way I make you feel.”

Hoshina's tone is strong and sure. “Stop talking about that damn brat and listen. Nothing is going on between me and the Captain. I do not like her like that and I can promise you I never will.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you hesitate. But you need his words. You need solid proof that he feels the same need for you that you do for him—so you push on anyway. “How can I be sure? How can I trust you?”

Not one to backdown, you meet him in the middle before he could completely corner you. With your finger to his chest, Hoshina takes a step back. His attempt to put space between you doesn't deter you as you push forward. In fact, it emboldens you to press on until his back hits the wall and your as nose to nose as you possibly can with your height difference.

Hoshina couldn’t think straight. The only thing he hears from you is jealousy, and it's going straight down to his dick. The feel of your body on his, the heat of the argument, the intensity of your glare, he was about to snap. "Please don't do that," Hoshina hisses.

“Where’s all the heat from before? Answer my question."

"Y/n." 

The sternness of his voice makes you falter. 

His hands raise slightly in a sign of surrender. "Don't touch me if you're not willing to take responsibility for your actions." He says in a teasing voice, but even you could hear the strain in them. 

“What are you talking about.”

“If ya touch me now, I can’t promise ya that I’ll be a gentleman about it.” As if warning you about what's to come, Hoshina brings his hands down onto your hips, pulling you close until your hips press against his. His actions evoke a different kind of heat than your argument.

“How could I ever want anyone else when you’re the only one who’s always on my mind. You think everything I’ve done to ya up to this point was casual? That I was only teasing ya for fun?”

“Ya want proof? Fine.” He brings your hand to rest over his chest, his heart beating wildly at your touch. To lay it all down on the table, to bare his soul to you, he'll do it all if it means even the slightest chance you'll accept him.

"Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me to move away, to not touch you, to not love you, and I will never bother you again." He grits through his teeth. "God, tell me now so I can stop myself before it's too late." Maybe it already was, but he won't tell you that. 

At your silence, his heart plummets. Hoshina lets go of your hand. “Sorry-”

"Kiss me, asshole." 

"I- what?"

"Fine, I'll do it myself." You grab the back of his head and pull him towards you, lips crashing into his in a passionate fury.

After a beat, Hoshina hungrily returns your passion. His hands back onto your body with a fervor. The kiss was heated. It tasted like frustration, anger, jealousy and want. It was exhilarating and intoxicating and Hoshina didn’t want it to end.

Breaking the kiss for air, the intensity of your gaze sends a delightful shiver up his spine. "You drive me insane, you know that? Getting off on teasing me and then trynna back away when you finally got the chance to do something, to do anything. Do I need to spell it out for you? I want you. I want you all for myself." you say, grabbing a handful of his hair with a strength that was bordering the line between painful and amazing. 

"Take responsibility? Talk about your fucking self. You've ruined me for anyone else. Do something about it."

“Yes ma’am.” Without hesitation, Hoshina dives back in for a kiss, and all that could be felt was lips on lips and the sting of teeth.

Hands grasping at every inch of your skin, he turns you and pushes you against the wall of the elevator. Lips moving from yours to your neck, his hand hungrily tugs at the top of your shirt. Unable to control his strength, the button pops, but your gasp is replaced by a moan as he bites into the expanse of your neck.

Motivated by the sounds you make, Hoshina snakes his arm behind your back—pressing your body against his in an almost suffocating manner. Blinded by his eagerness, he didn’t notice the lights turning back on and the elevator running again. It's not until the doors ding open, and you push him away does he finally come back to his senses.

Moving away from him, you use your hand to clasp at the top of your shirt—trying to replicate the security of the button he ripped off. You have half the mind to yell at him, but the smugness in his smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Satisfaction reeked from his body, and his cat-like eyes raking over yours made your knees weak.

The next time the doors open, he takes your hand in his and leads you out. "This isn't my floor," you say face flushed as you knew where he was heading.

"Yep, it's mine," he replies with uncontainable excitement.

He turns his head to glance back at you. “If I knew all it took for ya to confess was to trap ya in an elevator with me, I would’ve done this much sooner.” Hoshina says with a cheeky grin, hand gripping yours in a way that said you weren’t leaving him any time soon.

You roll your eyes, but you continue to follow him anyways. A small smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re unbelievable.”

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 4

<- prev   next ->  ||  Fic Masterlist   ||  My Masterlist

Summary: The truth is out. Will you see Jake again? Is Moon Knight back in business?

Pairings: Jake Lockley x reader, (Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader). Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings/notables: Angst, comfort, references to alcoholism and recovery, cursing, a little bit of voice-raising I guess, some arguing, some touching/grabbing but no one is getting hurt i promise. Let me know if I missed a warning. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on “With You”...

The two of you held one another in the middle of your drafty little kitchen, the shared answers between you only raising more questions.

“I think you should talk to Steven,” you suggested gently, “if you feel ready.”

Resting his forehead against yours, (Marc) rubbed your back soothingly. “Yeah. And maybe...maybe Jake too.”

It occurred to you, over the next two nights, that perhaps you were a heavy sleeper. 

Marc and Steven had a little heart-to-heart about “that bloody stupid pigeon” - Steven’s words, obviously. Steven made it to class and to his university library shifts. Marc’s two years of hard work and sobriety paid off, because he was now equipped with a wonderful support system - you, Steven, a close friend of his, and he even called his old sponsor. 

Then he attended a meeting (his idea). It was also his idea for Steven to keep his normal schedule. Marc felt guilty enough for getting Steven fired from the museum those years ago. (That, plus all the secrets.) So he changed his mind about hiding out in the flat with you. Routine was key. Routine and communication. 

You were so proud of your guys, but there were still a couple of glaring issues: Jake and the bloody stupid pigeon. 

Three nights after you first met Jake, you were determined to talk to him again. Marc had tried, Steven had tried, but Jake was used to operating completely alone. You got the feeling that this alter rarely did one damn thing he didn’t want to do. 

So you set three of the loudest, most blaring alarm sounds to go off on your phone - one at 2am, 3am and 4. You warned Marc and Steven, of course. In the event that Jake fell asleep, one of them would most likely wake up. Or Jake might not even front that night. 

But in case he did, you wanted to be awake for it. The alarm wasn’t for him anyway. It was because you had apparently slept through Jake’s entire existence, and you would never get to know him if things went on this way. You had to try.

So, tonight you made the effort to sleep in actual pajamas - black satin ones - a gift from Steven, instead of one of Marc’s comfy undershirts. The outfit wasn’t particularly revealing - you weren’t trying to seduce anyone, you just wanted to look a little more presentable than the worried, frantic mess from the first night you met Jake. 

Exhaustion overtook you easily and you did fall into a deep sleep, only to be jolted awake by your blaring 2am alarm, which scared the shit out of you. This could possibly be your worst idea ever. But you quickly realized, while trying to calm the hammering of your heart, that your fiancé was not in bed with you. 

Sitting up and pushing off the bed, you trudged to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face before checking the apartment for signs of life. Nothing. 

So you waited. 

You were alllmost back to sleep when he arrived - through the damn window, again. 

Sitting up, you flipped on the bedside lamp, just as he pulled his flat cap from his head and raked his fingers through his lustrous, chocolate waves. Sporting what you were starting to believe was his signature look - this alter carried himself with a self-assurance you had never seen from your fiancé. 

His expensive but worn leather jacket stopped at his waist, meeting well-fitting, sleek black pants. The same crisp, white shirt and dark tie, along with black, leather driving gloves completed his style. These weren’t clothes off a rack - they were tailored to fit him perfectly. He had chosen his look for a purpose...you assumed. 

“Jake?” you softly greeted, easing off the bed. 

Warm brown eyes stared at you, flashing as if momentarily caught off guard, before he pulled at the fingers of his gloves, just like he had done the first night.

“Go back to bed, cariño,” he implored, his voice rich, alluring, and much deeper than Steven’s. “It’s late, you should sleep,” he added, forcing himself to look away from the black satin draping itself over your body. 

“I don’t respond well to orders,” you nonchalantly replied, easing toward him. “I was waiting for you.”

Clenching both of his removed gloves in one hand, he stopped and turned to glare at you. “Why?”

“Why not?” you shrugged. “It’s the middle of the night. I was worried.”

He scoffed. Dropping his gloves, he peeled off his leather jacket, turning his back to you. “Well, don’t. I can take care of myself.”

“Apparently not,” you shot back, reaching down to gather his discarded hat, gloves and jacket, domestically picking up after him, as if it were completely natural to you. “Not since Marc woke up in an alley the other night, in the Moon Knight suit.”

Jake was not sure what was more infuriating at the moment: you touching his shit, or you running interference for Marc. 

“I get it - can’t let anything upset Marc,” he growled, jerking his clothing out of your arms, a little more dramatically than he intended. You didn’t even flinch. “Believe me, muñeca(o), I’ve been dealing with him my whole life.”

You rolled your eyes, bristling in Marc’s defense. “Okay, first of all, I am not your doll.” You matched his glare with your hands on your hips, “and secondly, you can fuck right off.”

“Happily,” he sarcastically agreed. “You’re the one who ambushed me.”

True. You were in rare form tonight. However...

“Oh. I didn’t realize walking around my own bedroom was considered an ambush,” you fired back. “I was worried about you, Jake!”

“You were worried about him,” he sneered, dropping the pile of clothes onto the bed. “And I get that. You two are getting married, or whatever. Just let me do my job in peace.”

“And what is your job, exactly? Being Khonshu’s slave? Almost getting yourself killed?”

Dragging a hand down his face, he groaned.

“I fucked up, okay? It’s never happened before.” Angrily jerking off his tie, he silently cursed himself for coming in the window again, without making sure you were asleep. Although part of him knew, deep down, that he was dying to see you. And now this. Now you knew what had happened to Marc, that night, in the alley. 

“Jake, I can’t control what you do,” you admitted, your voice softening. You rarely ever raised your voice, let alone argued like this with Marc or Steven. But Jake just got under your skin. The heat in your cheeks and the heaving of your chest was definitely all worry. Nothing else, not at all...right?

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” you started again, boldly reaching for the tie clenched in his strong fist, which he held tightly to. “Your choices are yours. I respect that.”

He waited for a moment. “But?” He prodded. 

“But,” you added, swallowing hard, “You could have seriously been hurt. Khonshu is not obviously not protecting you. He doesn’t care what happens to you.”

“No one cares what happens to me,” he snapped, jerking away from you, tossing his tie carelessly. “That’s how it works. I protect them. That’s my job. That’s my only job.” 

“Bullshit,” you challenged, following him closely. “I care what happens to you, Jake. I care!” Reaching out, you desperately took hold of his forearm. “I’ve been waiting three nights in a row to see you again. I set my alarm just to wake up and see you. I’m yelling at you, Jake, and I never yell, ever. You’re driving me crazy!”

“Is that right?” He lowly growled, grabbing your arm - the one connected to him - and walking you back toward the wall. If you wanted his attention, you damn sure had it now. “You’ve known me for three days and I’m driving you crazy?”

All the air rushed out of you as one grip became two. Jake grasped your shoulders and pressed your back up against the wall, bending his knees slightly to descend to your height. “I’ve been sleeping next to you for years, mi amor. So believe me when I say that I know how you feel.”

“Jake, I...” you struggled to breathe normally as his dark eyes burned into yours, the grip of his fingers unyielding, yet somehow tender. “I didn’t know,” you finally uttered. “I didn’t know you were there, all this time. We don’t even know each other.” 

“I do know you,” he confessed, his voice softening as his thick fingers loosened their grip. “I know you. Marc and Steven too. So I can protect you.”

“But who will protect you?” you whispered, placing your palms on his chest to brace yourself, the heat of his firm body seeping through his dress shirt.

His searing gaze faltered, eyes dropping, his jaw clenching in determination. “Doesn’t matter. I have to do this for them. You have no idea how many enemies Marc has. Nothing else can happen to him.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him, your voice softening. “Doesn’t being an avatar make more enemies? Marc was trying to leave all that behind.”

Shaking his head, Jake turned his face away, sighing loudly. Why was he even doing this with you? As foreign as a personal conversation felt to him, he couldn’t deny how good it felt to be looked after - to be worried about, to be touched. 

“He can’t - leave it behind. It’s not safe,” Jake finally explained, his head still turned to the side, avoiding your pleading gaze. “We’re not safe without Khonshu.”

You wanted to protest, but in all honestly, how would you know? 

“Jake,” you whispered, pushing your fingers up the definition of his chest, over the length of his neck to trace the sharp edge of his jaw. God, he was beautiful. So like the men you loved, yet completely his own, complicated person. You knew next to nothing about him. He could have his own life, his own family - someone of his own to come home to.

...but why, then, had he spent years sleeping next to you? And why were you drawn to him like this - following him, touching him, shouting...your emotions wild and unpredictable?

“Jake,” you began again, your breath faltering as his eyes met yours.

He couldn’t take it - being this close to you. “What?” he rasped, his voice softly betraying the stern pinch of his dark eyebrows. “What do you want from me?”

Releasing your shoulders, finally, he took hold of your hips, pulling you flush against his chest. “Tell me, cariño,” he whispered darkly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want -” you hardly recognized the plea in your own voice, you fingers still dancing over the angles of his handsome face. 

Jake’s eyebrows shot up inquisitively, the corner of his mouth curling slightly. You realized, then, that he seemed pleased to see you falter - to see you speechless. 

Well, fuck that. 

“I want to know you,” you finally admitted, returning the press of your fingers to his chest, your gaze dropping. “I want to know who you are, and if...if you have anyone. Someone - a family. And I want Marc and Steven to know you.”

Ah, he should have known. Releasing his grip on your hips, he pulled away, nodding as he headed toward the edge of the bed. Pushing his discarded pile of clothes aside, he sat down on the edge, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“I don’t know what you were thinking,” he finally responded, “but...this is my only home.” His eyes met yours from across the room. “You’re my only family.”

Your whole world stopped.

All at once, you were both devastated and thrilled. Jake had no one else to answer to in his life - he could be a family with you and Marc and Steven, if he was willing. Even if he didn’t want to be involved with you romantically, you wanted him to be a part of your life. But what kind of lonely existence had he led? Out at night, the avatar of a god, bringing vengeance to the vilest of men...protecting the system, but getting nothing in return? 

But the two of you couldn’t solve everything in one night. You would try, once more, to take what was in front of you, one step at a time. 

“I am,” you finally answered, crossing the room to ease down on the edge of the bed beside him. “I am your family. And this is your home. You don’t have to hide from us, Jake, or sneak in through windows.”

“I’m not...hiding,” he attempted, eyes downcast as his shoulder rubbed up against yours. “I just don’t want to take any more of their life. Of yours.”

“They’re trying to talk to you, you know. You don’t have to shut them out.”

He said your name then, and it almost felt strange to hear him say it. Different, but...good. 

He waited until you turned your head to look at him. “What I have...the way we are,” He tapped a finger to his temple, “in here...it’s not like a phone call. It doesn’t always work like that. It’s not always a sure thing.”

Shit. You violated the my-man-has-DID rules somehow. “I-I’m sorry, Jake, you’re right. It’s not my place to tell you how to...I don’t know, interact with your alters. I’m really sorry.”

Scowling, he paused, making you wonder if you really offended him. 

“Are you always this damn infuriating?” He cracked a smile, letting you know it was all right. 

“Actually, I’m usually a very calm and reasonable person,” you chuckled, leaning against his arm and giving him a little shove. “You just bring it out in me.”

Oh, he liked the idea of getting under your skin. He liked it a lot. 

“Really?” He teased. “You mean you don’t scare the shit out them in the middle of the night? Follow them around? Drive them crazy...wearing that?” He threw your words back at you. 

What a little shit. 

“No,” you steadily answered him, your gaze open and honest. “I guess I’m just here to drive you crazy.” 

@stormydaysxx laaundromat @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra this--is--music @i-still-dont-like-your-face​

[fiapartridge]

late night talking | jack hughes

summary: jack’s having a terrible day and decides to call you late at night…

warning(s): swearing

kinda not in love with this one but what can ya do!

Jack hated calling when it was late at night because he knew you'd answer every single time— even if it meant sacrificing precious hours of sleep and living like a sleep-deprived zombie by the time the sun comes up. 

But tonight, he just couldn't resist it. 

His day was absolutely terrible. It all started with waking up an hour later than his alarm was set, then missing breakfast with the team because he couldn't find his tan T-shirt anywhere which resulted in him tearing apart his entire hotel room searching for the missing piece of clothing that was simply rolled up at the bottom of his suitcase, then getting a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his new AF1s on his way to the arena, and as the stupid cherry on top, the Devils lost their last road game of the—almost clean sweep—West Coast roadie to the fucking Seattle Kraken. 

And he knew you were tired. You spent all day texting him about all of the essays and projects your professors were assigning you. You were awake until 2AM (New Jersey time), hacking away at all of the assignments. You couldn't wait to go to sleep. 

You finally put your writing utensils away and stored your laptop in the drawer of your desk where it would be waiting to be opened tomorrow for more work. Your hair was in a messy bun and your pajamas were strapped against your body. You were so ready for bed. You pulled back the covers and shimmied yourself in, careful not to move the pink blanket resting at the foot of the bed. 

Skimming through your emails one last time, making sure there wasn't any last-minute work assigned by your professors, you turned off your phone and placed it on the bedside table. Your arm stretched a little farther to click the button on your lamp, but when you saw Jack's caller ID and the photo of him giving you a piggy-back around the Prudential Center, all systems were on high alert. 

You sat back up, pulling the phone to your ear. You were terrified. You knew Jack hated calling you late at night— even though you told him loads of times that you didn't mind. So if he was calling you now, knowing it was 2AM where you were, he must've really needed something. 

The line was silent when you answered. Nothing else other than a faint static could be heard between the two of you.

"Jack?" you called. "Are you okay?"

You could hear his breathing. It wasn't calm, but it wasn't rapidly fast either. It sounded like a boy with something on his mind.

"Hey, Y/N/N," he said. He was so quiet, it felt like you had to lean into the phone to hear him better. 

"It's eleven in Seattle. Why aren't you asleep?" you asked.

"I wanted to, I just," he paused. Static. Calmer breaths. "I just missed you so fucking much, Y/N."

"I miss you, too, but it's only two more days. I'll see you on Sunday. What's going on?"

You couldn't see him, but his head was shaking back and forth on the other side of the line and he was rubbing his forehead like a middle-aged man after seeing his kids scribbling all over the walls. He was stressed and tired and all he wanted was to come home and see you, to sleep in your bed tonight, and to be with you.

"My day was just... terrible. It was unbelievably terrible. It was like one bad thing would happen and then ten minutes later, another bad thing happened. It was like God was just shitting over my entire day. So much fucking shit."

You laughed softly, a slight yawn mixed in between. "I don't think God was resting at the toilet, shitting all over your day, but it sounds like it was pretty bad. What happened?"

He sighed. "No, I should let you go to sleep. It's what? Two o'clock over there?"

"You called, and I answered. Tell me."

He took a moment, like he was actually debating whether to tell you or not. He knew you would go to extreme lengths to get it out of him, and he didn't want to tire you out even more. "We lost."

That was all he said.

Two words.

We lost.

You were confused to say the least. You knew he lost. You kept up with every single one of his games. They won every single road game before that: the Hurricanes, the Ducks, the Kings, the Sharks. So what, they lost to the Kraken? It's not like they won't have another chance to win again on Sunday against the Penguins, or Tuesday against the Golden Knights. There were so many more games to play. What was the big deal?

"Okay... is that it?" you asked. You dipped your toe in, scared that he might blow up and tell you something dramatic like 'it's more than a game, it's my life.'

But the line went quiet again. Nothing more than a bit of static and breathing. But then he talked and you wanted to do nothing more than book a flight out to Seattle and run to him with your arms out. You wanted to be there for Jack— you always did. 

He sighed. "It's just— we were losing for so long and when we were winning again, it felt so good, like we were finally back. Like we were a team again. But then we lost and, I don't know, it felt as if we were back on that losing streak, like it was yesterday. Like none of the road games even happened. We were just— losers again."

You rolled your eyes, and laughed. Yes, you laughed. Jack was confused, too. He wondered why you were laughing. He just poured out his entire thought process, all of his feelings, and you were laughing. Why were you laughing?

He frowned. "It's not funny, Y/N/N."

"I know, I know," you wiped your eyes. You didn't know if you were tearing up because you were deliriously tired or you were just laughing too hard. "It's just— you lost in overtime. You were close. It wasn't an 8 - 1 loss, or a complete shutout. You almost won, Jack. It was one goal that separated you and the other team. So what, you lost one game? This one game won't cost you your chances at playoffs and it won't make me love you any less. No one thinks that you are a loser. I'd rather be with you than a guy that's won every single one of his games. I love you, Jack. Win or lose, it's always you."

"So you don't want to be with Pastrnak?"

You rolled your eyes and giggled. "Not into beards."

He laughed. "Really? Because I think I'm starting to grow something here, Y/N/N."

You scoffed. "In your wildest dreams, Hughes."

"Speaking of dreams, I should probably let you get back to that."

"Alright, just— know that I love you, okay? Win or lose; I'm always gonna come home to you, and I'm always gonna love you."

You could hear the sound of a light switch on the other side of the line. Jack was getting ready for bed, too. He crawled underneath the covers, knowing his teammates were probably out getting drunk somewhere at a bar nearby. But he didn't care about grabbing a beer and throwing all of his feelings into Taylor Swift karaoke with Nico Hischier (that was more of a 'you and Nico' thing). All he wanted was to hear your voice, to tell you goodnight, that he loves you, and that he'll call you again when the sun comes up.

Because to him, you were worth more than a lifetime of wins.

[sydsaint]

Summary: Bron finds himself out a hotel room after a late-night mix-up with the receptionist. Luckily for him, the reader is an old friend who is also getting into town late.

It's well past midnight when Bron's Uber from the airport finally pulls into the hotel parking lot. "Thanks, man." Bron mumbles a quick thanks to his driver before collecting his bags and heading inside the lobby.

Dragging his bags behind him, Bron heads for the check-in desk where there is a blonde woman watching something on her phone to occupy her time.

"Evening, sir." The woman perks up when Bron approaches the desk. "What can I do for you?" She asks him with a polite smile.

"Yeah, room reserved for Bronson Steiner?" Bron answers the blonde.

The blonde nods and starts typing at the keyboard in front of her. Bron watches her eyebrows furrow in confusion for a brief moment before goes back to her keyboard.

"Is there a problem?" Bron speaks up after a few moment of silence.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." The blonde frowns and mumbles something under her breath. "Mr. Steiner, I'm afraid that there was an issue with our booking system. We gave your room away earlier today." She bites the inside of her cheek, embarrassed by the mix-up.

Bron frowns but tries not to take his frustration out on the poor receptionist in front of him. "Are there any other rooms available? Even just for the night?" He asks her.

"No, I'm sorry." The blonde shakes her head sheepishly. "We're booked up fully for that Wrestling show going on in the arena across the way." She explains.

"Damn." Bron grits his teeth. "Okay, do you know if anyone else around has a room available?" He tries his best to remain calm and civil about the whole situation.

The receptionist clicks her mouse a few times in silence and Bron watches her in silence.

Out in the parking lot, you finally arrive at the hotel after a painstaking flight. You collect your bags from the back of your Uber and thank him before heading inside. When you step into the quiet hotel lobby, you spot Bron talking with the receptionist at the front desk.

"Bron!" You walk over to Breakker with a smile.

The two of you knew each other in NXT and were friends. You got moved up to Smackdown about a year ago and lost touch with Bron due to always being on the road. But recently Bron has joined the Smackdown roster. So the two of you have been catching up.

"I thought I was the only one crazy enough to be getting in this late." You joke with a laugh and walk over to Bron at the front desk.

"YN, hey." Bron turns toward you with a surprised but friendly smile. But you can tell something is bothering him.

You glance at the receptionist who is feverishly clicking away at her computer then turn back to Bron. "What's going on? Sign in not working or something?" You ask Bron.

"They accidently gave my room away earlier today." Bron explains. "And now they're all booked up for the show. So she's trying to find me a new hotel." He gestures to the receptionist.

"Oh, I hate when that happens." You frown. "When the show was in Ontario a few months ago they accidently gave my room away. I ended up having to share a room with Waller since we had that storyline going." You explain. "And my god can that man snore. Ugh, it was hell."

The receptionist continues trying to fix Bron's problem when an idea pops into your head. You turn toward her with a friendly smile. "Miss? Can I get checked in real fast?" You ask her. "It's a room for YN LN?"

The receptionist nods and quickly checks you in with no problems. You take your keycard and turn toward Bron. "You can bunk with me for the night, Bron." You offer. "Then you can see about getting a different room tomorrow when it's not like 2am and more places are open." You suggest.

"Oh, I don't want to intrude, YN." Bron shakes his head.

"You aren't!" You insist. "Come on. I've got a room with a king bed, Plenty of room for you and those broad shoulders for the night." You tease with a small laugh. "Really, it's no trouble."

Bron reluctantly nods and you ask the receptionist for a spare keycard. She hands one over to Bron and the two of you head up to your room.

You reach your floor and head for your room. You unlock the door and head inside. The room is nothing special. Just a standard room with a tv, table, two chairs, and a king bed.

"Alright, well I'm going to grab a shower before I head to sleep." You set your bags down and dig around for your sleep-wear. "Make yourself at home."

Bron nods and watches you disappear into the bathroom. He sits down at the edge of the bed and sets his head in his hands followed by a deep sigh.

"What the hell am I doing?" Bron groans to himself once he hears the shower turn on in the bathroom.

A little over a month ago when Bron joined Smackdown you were the first person to congratulate him on his promotion. It had been almost a year since you and Bron had last seen each other, but you acted like no time had passed. And that exact moment was when Bron realized that he doesn't just want to be your friend anymore. No. The man has a hopeless crush on you. And now he's about to sleep in the same bed as you.

Around half and hour later you emerge from the bathroom dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear while toweling your hair off. Bron chokes on air from his spot on the edge of the bed as you approach him.

"That the side you want, Bron?" You ask absentmindedly and walk around to the other side of the bed.

"Y-yeah." Bron nods, gaze following you all the way around the bed.

You toss your damp towel toward the bathroom door and hop up onto the bed. "Cool with me." You settle into the mattress and reach for your phone to plug it in. "I'll see you in the morning, Bron." You switch your side-table lamp off and snuggle into your pillow.

Bron remains in a sitting position for a while, his nerves paralyzing him. But after a while he finally calms himself enough to strip his shirt off and lay down.

You lay on the other side of the bed fast asleep on your back with your head turned toward Bron. Breakker lays in silence and watches the rise and fall of your chest, silently scoffing at the Tony D'Angelo shirt you're wearing.

Eventually Breakker does manage to fall asleep for a while. He's woken up a couple hours later when he suddenly feels a weight shift in the bed followed by a warm body right up against him. Bron's eyes shoot open and he finds you snuggled up into his side and still sleeping like a baby.

"Shit." Bron mumbles to himself as he stares down at your sleeping form.

Light is starting to stream in through the window, so it's got to be at least six by now. A part of Bron wants to flee back down to the lobby and get his room situation figured out. And he probably would if you weren't using him as a body pillow right now.

Bron's heart thumps in his chest and the noise is enough to make you stir in your sleep. "God you're warm." You sigh half-asleep and adjust your body a bit before snuggling back into Bron. "And cuddly, Bron." You add with a yawn.

Bron lays awake for around another hour before you eventually roll off of him and fully wake up for the morning.

"Morning, Bron." You yawn and sit up in bed.

"Morning." Bron replies and does the same.

You take a moment to stretch your arms over your head before you let yourself fall back down into bed. "Sleep well?" You ask Bron.

"Yeah, fine." Bron nods.

"Liar." You reply with a sly grin. "You slept for like two hours max last night." You laugh. "You were to busy having a crisis over being in the same bed as me, dork." You giggle and poke Bron in the back.

Your claim makes Bron turn around to face you. "How'd you know that?" He asks you.

"I'm a pretty light sleeper." You shrug. "Plus when I rolled over to your side of the bed I could her your heart about to burst out of your chest." You giggle and poke Bron's bare chest. "So. How long were you planning on pining over me like a lost puppy?" You ask him.

"I-I-I was not pining." Bron huffs in embarrassment.

You smirk and rise into a sitting position again. "Sure you weren't." You tease him. "That's why you're blushing right now. Because you aren't dying to see me naked." You wink at Bron.

Bron runs a frustrated hand over his face and you giggle at him. "What's so funny?" Bron asks you, clearly about to die from embarrassment.

"You are." You continue with your fit of giggles and sit back up in bed. "And criminally adorable when you're all flustered and embarrassed." You add. "So. Whadduya say, Bronson? You ready to admit you've got a thing for me? Or do I have to go shower alone?"

You watch Bron's eyes widen in surprise and you can't help but laugh again at his flustered expression. "So adorable." You tease. "Come on, big boy. Don't get all choir-boy-eques on me now." You scoot to the edge of the bed and grab Bron's hand.

"Well I'd be stupid to say no." Bron finally replies after a few seconds of contemplation.

"Atta boy!" You grin and continue on your journey to the bathroom, Bron trailing close behind you.

You are going to eat this poor awkward man alive. And you can't wait to see what he's got in store for you.

[betterthanburrow]

The Bayou Billiard - Joe Burrow

Summary: The most popular Pool Hall in Baton Rouge, Louisiana is one of your favorite places to hang out with your friends… But what happens when the new quarterback for the LSU football team and his friends challenge you and your friends to a game of Pool?

Genre: Fluff (Meet-Cute Trope)

The Bayou Billiard is the most popular pool hall in Baton Rouge for people to enjoy having fun throughout the night of playing a few rounds at the pool tables while having a few drinks at a discounted price.

Ever since you moved to Baton Rouge to attend your required semesters at Louisiana State University, The Bayou Billiard is the place where you and your friends have spent your free-time hanging out at over the weekend after a long week of classes and work.

Tonight at The Bayou Billiard wasn’t a busy night like how it usual is, by the time you and your friends had arrived at the Pool Hall the big crowd of people that were there earlier in the night had already left and you don’t expect another big crowd to arrive since The Bayou Billiard will be closing at 2am.

As you and your friends are walked into the Pool Hall after getting your IDs by the security guard to make sure y’all were above the age of 18… You look around and see that the only other group of people playing at a pool table was a group of older men that play at the pool tables every weekend like your group of friends.

“I’m so happy tonight isn’t as busy like the last time we were here.” your friend, Alice says as everyone is walking towards the pool table that was at the back of the pool hall.

“I know… Last weekend we almost waited an hour for a pool table to be open!” Remi exclaims. “At least we had drinks to keep us company while we waited, I would’ve lost my mind if I had to wait long while being sober.”

“Speaking of drinks…” Avery says. “What does everyone want to drink, I’ll go gets our drinks before the game starts. Because we all know that playing pool is always better with alcohol in our systems!”

After the three of you told Avery what drinks to order; a spicy jalapeño margarita for Alice, a lemon drop martini for Remi, and a strawberry daiquiri for you. The first round of pool was starting to be set up by the three of you after Alice had out the right amount of counts in the pool table slot to retrieve the billiard balls.

It didn’t take long for Avery to return from the bar with four drinks in her hand, everyone takes their drink from her hands to place on the side-table right by the pool table… After spending a few minutes deciding the teams between the four of you, the first round between you and Alice vs Remi and Avery was about to begin.

It was decided that you were going to take the first shot of the game to break up the triangle of billiard balls on the pool table… After spending a minute lining up the billiard cue stick as perfectly as you can, you make your shot and the billiard balls spread out everywhere across the pool table with one of the solid balls landing in the pocket of the pool table.

“Nice shot!” Alice exclaims, as she gives you a high five. “We already have a point on the scoreboard and the game only just started!”

“There’s a reason everyone says I’m the best pool player in Baton Rouge.” you exclaim as you pick up your drink from the side-table.

You watched as Avery takes her first shot of the game trying to hit one of the stripe balls into the pocket net to score a point for her team but, she fails to make the shot as the white ball hits the stripe ball in the opposite direction of where Avery wanted it to go.

“Shit!” Avery frustratedly exclaims. “I hate pool.”

“Avery calm down…” you say, “It’s the first round, drink some of your pink lemonade vodka and you’ll be fine.”

After Avery’s turn, it was Alice’s turn to take her shot next and after a seconds of debating what is the right move to do. Alice takes her shot and hits a solid ball into the pocket net, causing you to cheer as another point for your team is added to the scoreboard.

The four of you take turns of trying to take a shot and score one of the solid balls or strips balls into the pocket net… It was hard for you to tell so early on in the game how long this round of pool would be. Sometimes a round of pool could take ten minutes to finish and sometimes a round of pool could take an hour to finish, it just depends on how good or bad everyone is playing the game of pool.

As the game was getting started, you look over towards the front door of the Pool Hall and see a group of three guys that you couldn’t recognize walk into the building… One of the boys looked your way and gave you a smile as the two of you made eye contact with each other. The boy smiled and waved at you and before you could wave back to him, Avery’s hand was placed on your shoulder causing you to turn your attention back to your friends and the game of Pool.

“Y/N it’s your turn!” Remi exclaims, after taking her shot with one of the stripe balls making into the pockets of the pool table, scoring a point for her team.

As you are lining up your pool stick to try and make the perfect shot of hitting another solid ball into the pocket meg, your eyes look towards the bar when you see the dirty blonde boy looking towards you with a drink in his hand and a smile on his face. You try not blush as you focus your attention back into the pool table and you take your shot, the white ball hits the solid ball just a few inches away from the pocket net.

“Ugh… I almost scored that.” you groan in frustration.

As you watch Avery and Remi debate between the two of them what is the right move to do next since there aren’t any stripped balls that are easy to score… Alice walks closer to you and puts her hand on your shoulder like she did before. “Do you know the guy that you were staring at?!” Alice asks.

“No.” you answer in a low tone. “He’s cute but, am I supposed to know who that is?!”

“That’s Joe Burrow.” Alice says. “He’s the new Quarterback for the LSU football team:”

“Oh… That’s interesting to know.” you say, looking over Alice’s shoulder to see that Joe Burrow and his friends have moved away from the bar to start their own game at one of the pool tables.

“Yeah… and I know you saw him watching your last round which is why you messed up.” Alice says.

“Umm… I don’t know what you’re talking about?!” you say, turning your attention away from Joe Burrow and his friends to Avery taking her shot to try and score.

“I’m not stupid… I saw that you noticed he was watching you and you got nervous which is why you missed.” Alice says as Avery hit one of the stripe balls into the pocket net and scored a point.

“So you’re telling me that if a cute boy was watching you play pool you wouldn’t be nervous as well?!” you ask. Alice shrugs her shoulders and walks around the pool table because it now her turn to take a shot.

Even though you should be watching Alice, you couldn’t help but turn your attention to Joe Burrow and his friends at their pool table… Joe Burrow is a name that you’ve heard before as people were talking about the new student that had transferred from Ohio State University to join the football team, but it wasn’t until now where you were able to put a face to the name.

You watched as Joe Burrow took the first shot of their Pool game, breaking the triangle of billiard balls apart just like you had done just a little while ago… When Joe looks up from the pool table, he sees that you watched him and y you nod your head, approving of his shot.

Just as your turn your attention back to your pool table, Alice had taken her shot and didn’t hit another solid ball into the pocket net.

The only noises that could be heard in The Bayou Billiard Pool Hall was the sound of the music playing through the speakers, billiard balls being hit along the table and chatter amongst the groups of people… While it was loud in the Pool Hall, the noises around you wasn’t a bother or distraction to the game of Pool.

When it wasn’t your turn to take a shot, you were watching Joe Burrow and his friends play Pool and every now and then the two of you would make eye contact and smile at each other… you had to admit that Joe Burrow was a good Pool player as much as he is talked about being a good football player.

When the first round of Pool between you and Alice vs Remi and Avery came to an end with you scoring the winning point for your team… You decided to bring your empty glasses of the drinks to the bar to get a refill as the other three girls chatted amongst each other while resetting the pool table for another round.

“I’ve never seen someone so good at Pool.” a voice from behind says. When you turn around, you see Joe Burrow standing behind you with a smile on his face and an empty glass in his hand.

“Thank you.” you reply. “I love having an audience watch me while I take my shots at the pool table.”

Joe Burrow chuckles, “I’m glad you enjoy having an audience.” he takes a seat next to you at the bar and places the empty glass onto the countertop while you’re waiting for the new drinks to be made.

“I’m Joe Burrow ” he says, reaching his hand out.

“I’m Y/FN Y/LN.” you say as you shake his hand. “So… I’ve actually heard a-lot about you Mr. Joe Burrow.”

A confused look appears on Joe’s face before he has a quick realization of what you meant by what you said. “Oh yeah… Are you a student at LSU?!” he asks.

“Yes I am. I’m going into my junior year this semester.” you answer. “There’s been a lot of talk about the new Quarterback so I’m glad to put a face to the name.”

“Yeah, I guess I’m a hot topic at LSU right now but I’m excited to be at LSU. It’s nice to meet someone else that is a student at LSU because I only know those 3 guys over there.” Joe says pointing over to the group of guys that are hanging around the pool table.

“Well… my friends over there all are students at LSU too. So it looks like you can meet a few more students from LSU.” you reply as the bartender comes back with the drinks for your group.

“That’s good to know.” Joe says giving you a smile. Before you could say something to Joe, you heard your name being called. When you turn to look over your shoulder, you see Alice signaling to you that the next round of Pool is about to start.

You turn back to Joe and give him a soft smile. “I got to go. The next round of Pool is starting.”

“It’s okay… Hopefully we have to chance to talk again later.” Joe says. “Go beat their ass Miss Pool Queen.”

There is a light blush on your face as you stand up and grab the drinks from the counter so that you can walk back over to the pool table where Avery, Remi, and Alice were finishing setting up the Pool table.

“So… Who was that guy you were talking too?!” Remi asks, as she takes her drink out of your hand then you place the other three drinks down onto the side table.

“Y/N was talking to Joe Burrow.” Alice says.

“Joe Burrow as in the new Quarterback?!” Remi asks. You and Alice nod your heads. “Wow… What did the two of you talk about?!” she asks.

“Nothing much…” you answer. “We just introduced ourselves and he said that I was good at playing pool.”

The conversation was over as the second round began. This time, you and Avery were on the same team trying to hit the stripe balls into the pocket nets going against Remi and Alice as they are on the same team trying to hit the solid balls into the pocket nets.

As the other girls were taking their shots, your attention would be on Joe and his friends as they were playing their second round of pool. You’ve never been so distracted while playing Pool but, you couldn’t help that there was a cute guy who kept giving you a smile when the two of you would make eye contact.

Joe would watch you from afar when it was your turn to take a shot to try and hit one of the stripped balls into the pocket nets. He wasn’t lying when he said that he’s never seen someone so good at playing Pool.

One of Joe’s skills is that he is very good at observing people around him. It was very easy for him to notice how competitive you are when it comes to Pool, just like how competitive Joe is when it comes to playing football. Joe seeing how competitive you can be makes him wonder how competitive you can get when it comes to playing other sports.

The second round of Pool lasted much longer than the first round and the game ends with you and Avery winning by hitting the black ball into the pocket net. When you looked at the time, it was past midnight and there was only an hour and a half left until The Bayou Billiard would close for the night.

“Let’s take a small break and then we can play one more round before we leave.” Alice says, placing all of the billiard cue sticks back onto the stand.

“Yeah that’s sounds good… I need another drink.” Avery says as she takes her empty glass and starts walking to the bar for another refill of her pink lemonade vodka drink.

“I’m going order some food… Playing two rounds of pool have made me hungry!” Remi exclaims.

“Yeah I’m hungry too.” Alice says. “And we’ll be entertained by watching other people play pool.”

When the three of you walked over to the seating area, y’all quickly ordered some food to eat before sitting at one of the tables where you had a good view of Joe and his friends who were still playing their second round of Pool… After Avery received her refilled drink, she comes over to sit at the table and the four of you talk while waiting for the food to arrive at the table.

The four of you are in a deep conversation as you watch Joe and his friends play Pool. Joe wasn’t the best player of Pool that you’ve watched but he wasn’t the worse player of Pool… You could see that he really was trying his best to hit the solid balls into the pocket net whenever it was his turn to take a shot and you could see that it frustrated him when he would miss his chance to score for his team.

“Hey Y/N!” Joe yells which causes you and your friends to turn the attention towards him and his friends. “Watch this!”

Joe lines up his billiard cue stick and takes his shot to score but fails as the solid ball rolls just an inch to far from the pocket net which causes everyone to laugh.

“Joe that couldn’t have gone any worse!” one of the boys exclaimed. With an embarrassed look on his face, Joe looks over to you and sees you give a him smile.

“Nice shot Burrow!” you yell out. “But next time, aim to hit the solid ball into the pocket net!” which causes everyone to laugh as the boys continue their game.

It was fun to watch Joe and his friends play Pool while you and the girls eat the food that had arrived at the table. You noticed how competitive Joe is when it comes to the game of Pool, he is very focused on the white ball as one his friends takes a shot to hit a striped ball into the pocket net.

As you watched the game, you realized that you’ve never watched people play Pool before and you’ve only ever played the game… It was nice for a change to be in the audience during an intense game of Pool.

Just as you and your friends were finished eating at the table, the game of Pool between Joe and his friends was over… You wondered if Joe and his friends were going to play another round of Pool or if they were planning on leaving the Pool Hall since it was getting closer to closing time.

As you were setting up the billiard balls in the triangle to prepare to start the final Pool game of the night, you felt a tap on your shoulder which causes you to turn around to see Joe standing behind you with a smile on his face.

“Hey Joe!” you exclaim. “What’s up?!”

“The boys and I had this idea.” Joe says. “We decided that we’re going to play one more round of Pool and we overheard you and your friends talking about playing one more round… So we thought it would be a fun idea to do boys vs girls for the last Pool game of the night.”

“That’s sounds like a fun idea!” you exclaim. “But are you and boys sure that y’all want to go up against the best Pool player you’ve ever seen?!”

“That’s a challenge that I’m willing to take.” Joe says. “So are you and the girls in for the game?!” Before you can answer Joe’s challenge for a game at Pool between the two friend groups, the girls who had been listening to the conversation decided to answer for you.

“We accept the challenge!” Avery exclaims. “With Y/N on our team, we’re definitely going to kick your ass!”

“Trust me… I have some secret Pool moves that I have been hiding up my sleeve.” Joe claims, walking back over to his friends to let them know that y’all accept their challenge for the final Pool game of the night.

Since there was three boys and four girls, Avery decided to sit out of the game to just watch everyone play. So the teams were you, Alice and Remi vs Joe, Ja’marr and Justin… The final game of Pool started with you taking the first shot to break up the triangle.

Joe decided to take his turn next and he’s lining up his shot. The girls decided to tease Joe to distract him. “Are you going to dedicate this shot to Y/N?!” Remi asks him. “We remember what happened the last time you dedicated a shot to her.”

“Hey! We’re playing a fair game!” Ja’Marr exclaims.

“We are playing fair!” Alice says. “A game of Pool isn’t fun without a little bit of teasing and alcohol!”

Joe takes his shot and hits the stripe ball into the pocket net which means that the boys will try to hit the stripe balls into the pocket nets while the girls will try to hit the solid balls into the pocket nets.

Ja’marr and Justin cheer and give Joe a few high fives to celebrate him getting the first score of the game. “Nice shot Burrow!” you exclaim, “Keep hitting shots like that and soon enough you’ll win a game of Pool!”

Alice is next to take her shot for your team. Both you and Joe are standing next to each other as you watch her think about what should she do since there aren’t any easy solid balls to hit into the pocket nets.

“So how long have you been playing Pool.” Joe asks, as everyone else was so focused on the Pool game and not paying attention to you and Joe.

“I’ve been playing Pool since I was a kid. My dad was a big fan of playing Pool and we had our own Pool table in our house in the game room.” you answer.

“Your dad taught you your good Pool skills?!” Joe asks.

You nod your head and smile. “Yeah he did teach me the good Pool skills. Us playing Pool was always one of my favorite ways that we would spend time together.”

“That sounds nice.” Joe says. “Just like how you and your dad spent time together playing Pool, my dad and I spent time together playing football in the backyard.”

You give him a smile before turning you attention back to the Pool table to watch your friends take their turns but Joe wanted to continue the conversation between the two of you while he has the chance.

“So what are you studying at LSU?” he asks.

“I’m studying in LSU’s dental program so right now I’m majoring in Biology and Chemistry but I do plan on going to the Dental school after I get my degree.” you answer. “My mom is a Dentist so I want to follow in her footsteps and hopefully work with her one day.”

“Oh that’s interesting.” Joe says. “Does she work at a dentist place in Louisiana?!”

“No she doesn’t.” you reply. “My family lives Michigan, I just moved to Louisiana to attend LSU’s dental program because it was the best offer that I received.”

“Oh… so you’re from up north of America like me!” Joe exclaims. “I’m from Ohio and I’m here in Louisiana to play football and get my masters degree.”

Before you could continue the conversation, you were interrupted by Remi. “Y/N it’s your turn!” she exclaims.

You give Joe a smile before walking over to grab a pool stick and you examine the balls on the pool table… It doesn’t take you longer to realize there’s a easy shot of hitting a solid ball into one of the pocket nets that you could make as long you don’t mess up your aim.

As you’re lining up your shot, you look up and see Joe smiling at you. “Stop smiling at me like that Burrow.” you mumble under your breathe and you can see Joe’s smile grow bigger when he heard what you said.

You take your shot and hit the solid ball into the pocket net that you were aiming for, as the girls cheered around you… Joe was examining the pool table to see what the easier shot would be for him to take so that he could go back to talking to you until your next turn.

When Joe was finished with his turn which allowed him to score another point for the boys’ team. He walks back over to where you are standing with a grin on his face, “Now that was a nice shot wasn’t it?” he asks.

“It sure was Burrow.” you say. “Soon enough you’ll be just as good as a Pool player as I am!”

As the rest of the group is taking their turns of playing Pool, you and Joe continued your conversation… There was a lot that you learned about the new LSU Quarterback in just the few minutes that the two of you had in between your turns of the Pool game to talk.

You noticed every now and then during your conversation with Joe, one of the girls would be watching the two of you and try to listen to conversation… You knew that later on during the night they will ask about your conversations with Joe.

As much as you loved playing Pool with the group of friends, you didn’t want the conversations with Joe to end… There was always a smile on his face and a light in his eyes when he was talking to you, he’s never been so interested in talking to a stranger in his life.

Joe told you about what life was like living in Ohio and his years of being a student at Ohio State while you told him what life is like living in Louisiana these past few years and what he could expect of the transition from living up north in America to living down south.

By the end of the second round of everyone taking turns, there wasn’t much left of the game to be played… As you examined the Pool table, there was only one solid ball and one stripe ball to hit into the pocket nets before having to take the chance of hitting the black ball into one of the pocket nets to win.

It was a hard shot that you could’ve easily missed, but you hit the final solid ball into pocket net and the girls cheered… Now it was Joe’s turn to take a shot and as long as he didn’t make one of the stripe balls into the pocket net, this will be the girl’s game of Pool to win.

“Good luck Burrow… you’re going to need it!” you say with a cheeky grin on your face.

There’s a smile on his face that he couldn’t hide even if he tried as he takes his shot, hitting the last stripe balls into the pocket net… Just like how the girls had cheered for you, the boys cheered from him because now it was time to play to win the game of Pool.

“I think that Y/N and Joe should take the final shots of the game until one of them hits the black ball into the pocket nets.” Avery exclaims.

“Are you just offering that suggestion because you know that the girls team will win most likely win the game because of Y/N.” Justin says.

“Maybe…” Avery says.

“I’m fine with that if it’s good with Joe and Y/N!” Ja’marr says with Remi and Alice agreeing with him.

You turn to look at Joe with a grin on your face. “I’m fine with that if you’re fine with it Burrow!” you say.

Joe puts his hand out for you to shake, “I’m fine with it. May the best Pool player win the final round.”

Alice hands you the billiard cue stick that she was just about to use to play and you make your way around the pool table to where the black ball is at after Joe’s turn.

The group around you is silent as you take your shot, you try not the look up at Joe because you know he’s going to distract you from your shot… Since you would’ve risked missing the shot to one of the pocket nets which would’ve caused Joe to score an easy victory for the boys team, you hit the black ball to a spot where Joe would have a lot of trouble hitting it into one of the pocket nets of the Pool table.

“You did that on purpose!” Joe exclaims and you shrug your shoulders with a grin on your face.

“Like I’ve said before Burrow… you’re will need all of the good luck you can get!” you say moving out of his way so he can get to your spot around the Pool table.

You watch as Joe examines the Pool table and then lines-up his shot to take. A smirk appeared on your face as you watched the black ball fail to be hit into the pocket net that Joe was aiming for.

“Ugh!” Joe exclaims in frustration. “I was so close!”

“But not close enough!” you say in a teasing tone. All eyes were on you as you walked around to the opposite side of the Pool table from where the black ball was… From the quick examination you did, Joe had made it very easy for you to make the shot into one of the closest pocket net. It would be very embarrassing if you missed the shot and allowing Joe to win the game.

“No pressure!” Joe said. You rolled your eyes at his comment as you start to line up your shot. When you look up, you can see Joe giving you the smile he gave you earlier during the night that had distracted you.

The entire group watched as you took the last shot of the game and hit the black ball into the pocket net that you had aimed for… The girls cheered in celebration that they won the Pool game while the boys groaned in frustration that they lost the Pool game.

“Nice shot!” Remi exclaimed.

“That was a fun game of Pool!” Justin says. “We have to do it again in the future.”

“Yeah I want a rematch!” Ja’marr says.

“We’ll play another game of Pool in the future!” Alice say. “There’s only 15 minutes before the Pool hall will close so we better get going soon!”

Everyone started to clean up the area around the Pool table and packed up their belonging because y’all wanted to get out of the Pool Hall as fast as you can before y’all got kicked out why the employees.

It didn’t take long for everyone to clean up and pack up. With just 10 minutes until the Pool Hall closes, the group was out of the front door and it was time to say your goodbyes before heading your separate ways.

You were just about to follow behind Alice, Remi, and Avery to where the Uber would be picking the four of you up at… You felt someone grab your wrist which causes you to turn around and see Joe smiling at you.

“I had a fun night hanging out with you.” Joe says.

“I had a fun night hanging out with you too.” you reply.

“So… hopefully this ain’t coming off a bit to forward but, can I have your phone number?” he asks.

You nod your head and then he pulls out his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He unlocks the phone and then give it to you for you to put your phone number in his contacts… When you give the phone back to him, he immediately texts you so that you can have his number in your phone before putting his phone back in the back pocket of his jeans.

“I guess now it’s only makes sense for me to ask you if you’ll love to meet me here at The Bayou Billiard for a date next week?!” Joe asks.

You give him a kiss on the cheek, “I’ll see you here next week at The Bayou Billiard!” before walking away to catch up with the girls with a smile on your face.

never thought that I’ll write a fanfiction that wasn’t inspired by a song, but here we are with a fanfiction that is loosely inspired by a personal experience that i’ve had while playing pool with a group of friends at The Bayou Billiard.

thank you all for the love and support! 🤍

[garoujo]

・✶ ｡ﾟ hanma shuji was a habit you could never quite kick.

♱ warnings — f!reader, ex’s -> hookups -> lovers, v mild alcohol [mixed w painkillers] consumption on hanma’s part, creampies, possessive language, threats [not at reader], it’s 12am i’ve just written this in a haze. wc: 2.4k. / note. i’m so painfully in love ! i had 2 get this idea out of my system b4 i died </3 !

hanma shuji believes you were practically made for the light, it’s what he’d told you the night he’d broke your heart, after a few exchanged jabs as venom dripped from your lips. you were the light, his light.. but he was made for the shadows and maybe that’s why he let the silence linger when he slammed the door as he left that night.

he knows he wasn’t perfect, fuck he was far from it. an absentee lover, a fucking criminal.

you didn’t ask for much from him, asked he came home to you at night —he rarely did—kisaki had been kicking his ass with work, traitors were fucking everywhere. but for someone who done his work best in the dark, he misses the warmth that he felt kiss his skin with the light.

he fucking misses you, hanma realises with a sigh as he takes off his glasses to dig his knuckles into his eyes, his hair is mused from his last job and the pains and aches in his limbs are barely there with the painkillers he took earlier—mixed with the amber alcohol he lets burn down his throat with his last swig now.

he adjusts himself in his seat as he rests down his glass on the table to his right, a pretty little crystal thing you’d gotten him for his birthday as he lets his gaze linger on it a little too long before he scoffs, turning his attention back to his phone as he continues to scroll through your socials like he’s been doing since he got fucking home.

if only he’d came back, turned right on his heels at the door of your apartment and walked back into kiss you breathless, hadn’t left you when he watched the first tear of the night trail down your cheeks, did you wait up thinking he would? if only he’d told you that you felt like a home to him. could he?

hanma grits his teeth as he pulls up a pretty little selfie of you, the haze in his mind feels like it consumes him—like it has many nights before—and he thinks, barely, but still knows he misses the smell of you on his sheets. maybe if he was sober he’d think twice, wouldn’t be pulling up his messages in record time to type something out to you, taunting him since you’re right at the top of his recents.

because unfortunately for you, hanma shuji was a habit you could never quite kick.

—

he’d lost the little heart beside his contact name now, and it’s funny, silly that you think it looks weird without it — like somethings missing, despite the way you know the love still lingers, but it’s the typed out words that follow that make your shoulders slump as you sigh.

[2:34am] shuji : i miss you, doll.

[2:34am] shuji : sending a car to pick you up.

you’d like to say the contents of the message catches you off guard, but it doesn’t—it hadn’t been the first time after all, you’d be embarrassed to call it a routine but how else would you explain why you’re already ready and waiting in your doorway when it sounds.

2am confessions that neither of you could quite tell eachother to your faces, two ex lovers convinced that maybe things were past the point of repair, too scared to try just incase so you’ll settle with burying them between the sheets instead.

he’ll be drunk, maybe high.. or hurt, and maybe it’s the worry that seeps into your mind that makes you reply (as always) to feed into him, offer yourself up to let hanma consume you because the love still lingers.

so hanma will invite you over because he only sleeps best when you’re right beside him (as much as he’ll never admit it sober), he’d know you were safe because you were there.

maybe that’s why you don’t hesitate to go over when he asks, to let him rest easy tucked up in the crook of your neck as he spews out his i love yous, slurring into i miss yous between smeared kisses against your skin and it was kinda sad that this, he, still felt like home to you.

—

hanma meets you at the door before you can even knock, like he’s welcoming you home with his dark gaze and he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into him to kiss you like he’s craved. “can’t get you out of my fuckin’ head.” he breathes through clenched teeth as he lets his tongue push between your lips, grunting at the first needy grind of it against your own.

you don’t make it to the bedroom with the way he’s kissing you, tearing through the fabric of your sweats until you’re left in your panties, panting hard as he reveals more of your intimate skin and moves you towards the living room, just so he can press your body deep against the couch with his own.

“feel what you still do to me, babydoll.” his hips rub up against your clothed pussy with his words, letting you feel the impressive strain of his hard cock through his slacks before he laughs, amused, but clarity seems to have some sort of grip on him at least.

“i want you, shuji—fuck, hurry up.” you gasp, a whispery little plea that makes hanma pull back to send you a half-lidded, wild look before he tears off his shirt — revealing the toned muscles underneath as you instinctively reach out for him, making him chuckle at the needy mess you’ve become for him already.

“impatient little thing, aren’t ya. you missed my cock that much? yeah?” he goads as you squeeze your legs around his middle, but then he’s kissing you again as he rips his pants and belt open through messy smears of his lips along yours and you know he’s just as needy as you are.

“fuck, you gonna answer me, doll? need to know this pussy is still mine.” hanma sings as he watches your eyes sweep over the thick curve of his cock, his chest already heaving when he lets his fingers wrap around the base to give himself a few shallow pumps.

“yes.. i’m still yours, shuji. pussy’s yours, now fuck me..” he hums like he’s not quite convinced but he still yanks at the fabric of your panties until they’re hanging loosely around one ankle anyway, taking in the sight of you beneath him like he’s the devil who’s just caught their first glimpse at hell.

“yeah? always gonna be.. every fuckin’ part of you.” hanma lets his fingers graze through your folds with his words, teasing the slick gathered there before he drags it up higher — smearing it along your pussy until every swipe of his digits is so fucking loud and lewd.

“sounds like your pussy’s even beggin’ for me back, babydoll.” the smirk on his lips seems to tug even wider when he sinks two of his fingers into your cunt, feeling your walls squeeze and mould to him like he never even left as the sting burns and sizzles into something that makes you whine.

but hanma’s wound up so tight, only sinking his fingers into you a few times before he’s losing his patience (and about to be his mind if he waits any longer), scissoring them a few times until you’re humping your clit against his palm and stealing the fucking air from his lungs with the little doe-eyed, pleading look you give him.

you’re already so wet when he lines himself up, letting the thick head of his cock craze through your folds just so he can tease you a moment longer—that’s all he can manage with the way he’s throbbing with want before he finally begins to sink into you.

“fuck sake.. still a tight lil thing, ain’t ya?” hanma grunts as he smears another kiss along your temple with a ragged exhale, sin & punishment gripping tight at your skin as he drags your hips down onto his cock while your body shakes beneath him.

“only want you, shuji… what do you expect.” you gasp and the sound only pulls him deeper into the desperate hug of your cunt, pushing effortlessly past the spots inside of you that only he could ever reach. before his hips press flush against your own with a shameless, unhinged groan. “yeah? good, i’ll put a fuckin’ bullet in anybody else who tries to touch you, doll.”

the first withdrawal of hanma’s cock is slow, wet after he’s given you a few moments to breathe and adjust to him, he’s long and thick and the drawback of his hips feels like it lasts forever until you feel him squeeze at your waist, like a warning of what’s to come.

the first slap of his hips back into you almost knocks all of the air from your lungs, feeling him grind his cock deep into your cunt like he’s already trying to dig your pleasure out of you with every loud, clapping connection.

the pace hanma has set is quick and ruthless, so much like him in a way that’s making ragged, shameless moans drip from your lips like honey as your lashes flutter and kiss along your cheeks. you can barely breathe with how good he’s fucking you, how deep it feels like he reaches as he keeps his intense pace, only growing heavier as if he’s spurred on by your pretty sounds.

“nobody else ‘ll make you feel this fuckin’ good, say it. you were made just for me, weren’t you?” he’s pressing his pelvis tight against your folds with every wet connection of his hips, smearing your slick along his skin as he swirls his cock into your cunt, pulling out the answers hes so desperate to hear as his confessions pour from his lips like a river with the warmth he feels burst along his skin. “y-yes.. yours! made just for you.”

“that’s right. nobody else would burn this fuckin’ city for you like i would, doll.” your body is jolting beneath him as hanma digs his cock up into your pussy, his pace only growing heavier as he babbles and slurs his words against your skin between kisses.

“fuck, id do it just to rebuild it as yours.. ours.” you’re moaning so fucking pretty with every sharp exhale you take, he could fucking eat, drink, breathe you like this for the rest of your life. he’d promise himself to you in every lifetime, run away and give more to you than he ever has to anyone in his life if it meant you were his.

his grip only grows tighter as he drags you along the expensive cushions beneath you—forcing more of his cock deeper into your spread walls as the blunt head kisses along the swollen spots inside of you.

but hanma’s words, his promises only make you feel even better as he fucks you—promises you the world as he buries himself into you, and when you force yourself to meet his gaze you know his words are true regardlesss of the circumstances when you realise he’s already looking back.

“tell me you want me back.. fuck! even if you have to fuckin’ lie to me, tell me.” he finally breathes as his face falls and rests just above the crook of your neck, letting you hear the way his words shake with need between the ragged pants he takes.

you grab at him, letting your nails leave pretty red marks along his shoulders and you feel hanma shudder at your touch before he melts into you, pulling another breathless croon of a laugh from him with the next squeeze of your cunt around his cock.

“i love you, shuji—ah! n-not lying, need you back with me—“ he doesn’t let you finish before he’s kissing you again, groaning against your lips as he presses himself deeper into your body. “s-shit—i love you, babydoll. never fuckin’ leaving you again. fuck sake, need to put a bullet between my fuckin’ eyes to keep me away from you.”

hanma’s pace stutters when he feels the first sparks of his orgasm burst along his skin—angling his cock deeper inside of you until he hears your moans rake up a pitch as you tangle your hands in his hair. “gimme what i need, baby. cum for me, fuck—give me what’s mine.”

your body listens as you stiffen below him, feeling your orgasm burst and burn along your skin as you twitch — creaming around his cock while every still heavy connection of his hips knocks a wave of bliss through your system.

but then you hear hanma grunt, long and low with the next throb of his cock inside of your pussy before he’s cumming, giving himself into the milking compression of yours walls as he fucks his heavy load into you—hearing it squelch with every unforgiving push of his hips as your pussy struggles to hold it.

he continues to fuck into your pussy until you’re both panting and drowsy, feeling him press a few more kisses along your jawline before he’s pulling off you with a carefully neutral look as he leaves to grab you a towel and clean you up.

the sort of awkward push and pull in the moments after had become some sort of routine, but the air was heavier now—like both of you were fed up pretending you were fine with things as they are. but you’re already pushing yourself up onto your shaky legs when hanma returns, trying to suppress the smug smirk that threatens to twitch onto his lips when he sees you.

“you’re leaving?” he hums, amber gaze narrowed as he lets himself crouch down between your legs—cleaning you up while his strong hand holds you in place, even just to keep you there a little longer. “your head will hurt tomorrow, i’ll leave you painkillers and water.”

“you know i get cold.” hanma replies quickly, there’s a slight pout to his words but they’re sharp and followed by a click of his tongue, and you don’t hesitate to bite back. that’s one of the reasons he fell in love with you afterall. “you have blankets.”

and that love still lingers.

“quit it with that shit. fuck sake.. we should talk, doll.” hanma breathes, steady despite the vulnerability his amber gaze seems to hold when he looks at you.

he pulls you close as one of his hands rest underneath your chin, tilting your face towards his own as the other squeezes around your waist, followed by a smirk that’s just as dreamy as he always is. you don’t hesitate to melt into him, to wrap your arms around his shoulders as you both let hope linger in the space where you both take a breath before he closes it.

“promised you a city after all.”

© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[bambishuaa]

12:05

“love? what are you doing still up? you’ve been awake since 5am today & you’ve got an early day tomorrow” joshua groggily walked into your home office, seeing your back hunched as you worked away on your assignment.

joshua had fallen asleep ages ago but stirred awake to find your side of the bed empty. looking around, he saw the lights were on outside your shared bedroom through the gaps of the door. he mustered his energy to get himself up in search for his lover.

“i had coffee in the afternoon and am now suffering the effects of it. at least i get to work on my assignment though” you replied, turning to face your boyfriend, taking in how adorable he looked, trying to shake sleep out of his system.

you have had a busy semester, juggling between your studies and working part-time. late nights were not unfamiliar to you, going to sleep at 1am was considered a luxury on most days. not in the eyes of your boyfriend though. although supportive of everything that you do, he couldn’t help but worry and wonder if you’re overworking yourself. always on a lookout to see if you’re showing any signs, thus far, none avail. he began to wonder if he has lost touch with you, unable to recognise the signs or you’ve gotten better at hiding. sometimes he even wondered the possibility of you enjoying torturing yourself in such sadistic ways. regardless, as your boyfriend, he couldn’t help but to worry.

“you know coffee has that effect on you yet you still do it anyways. you’re such a coffee addict” joshua teased before he continued “are you coming to bed soon though? we haven’t been able to go to sleep next to each other for while, the bed is cold without you” pouting as he said it. you glanced at the clock in your room, signalling it was nearing 2am. you did have a lot to finish but you also have an early day tomorrow. maybe you should try to fight the caffeine battle in bed instead. with the addition of joshua practically begging you to go back to bed, you can’t say no.

saving your work before you put your laptop to sleep, you turned to joshua and reached your hand out for his. pulling you back into the room, joshua got you under the covers and pulled you against him and started to stroke your hair to soothe you. you both engaged in light-hearted conversations about events that happened when you both were at your respective schedules. it wasn’t long before you could feel your eyelids drooping. “don’t fight it love, you know you’re sleepy. go to sleep, i’m here” joshua whispered softly in your ear. soon enough, joshua heard your steady breathing and smiled to himself, happy that he finally got to have you in his arms again before drifting off to dreamland with you.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

“An Enemy of the People” + Meeting Matt Smith a THIRD time(?!?!)

I saw Matt Smith last night in his play, “An Enemy of the People” in London and I’m still super overwhelmed by it all, especially as I was up at 6:45am for work before I went to the show AND I ended up not getting home until 5am, but to sum up my experience last night with Matt:

I was sat in row A, which is the third row from the stage behind AA and BB, so I was SUPER close to the stage

THEY HAD A REAL DOG (German Shepherd/Alsatian I think?) ON STAGE IN SOME SCENES OMG OMG OMG I LOVED THIS SCENE STEALER

Matt was absolutely incredible, he had a full on like 5 minute monologue where he was shouting into a microphone about capitalism and the rot of government etc, and there was utter silence the entire time

It then turned into an audience trauma dump of sorts because they had some microphones given to audience members to air their grievances with the government/system/society, it was incredibly powerful

The rest of the cast were amazing too of course

I was in the “splash” zone because there was a moment where the cast were along the sides next to the audience while Matt was on stage and then they threw paint-filled balloons at him, and when they hit him they exploded so we had to have tarp pulled up over us just before it happened because the paint would have hit us

Matt has a DILF belly and I am 100% for it, at one point he lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe the paint from his eyes and I nearly died

After the show, I went to stage door to try and meet him - but because it was a Saturday night in London it was a nightmare and so he could only do quick signatures and no pictures with people

I DID get my program signed by Matt ☺️🫶🏻

Also one of the other cast members (Zachary Hart) was talking a lot to my friend just before Matt came outside and he turned, saw me, looked me over and then went “I like your shirt! 🙂” (I was wearing a TNBC check shirt)

After the show, I was with some friends I knew from Twitter who were also huge Matt fans, and we went to a pub that was down the road from the theatre after they had changed clothes… and Matt and the cast were there?!?

Matt brushed up against me twice when he was going to/coming back from the bar and I nearly passed out like one of my friends had to take me outside because I was hyperventilating

(This is also an autistic thing though that’s unrelated to Matt because it was super packed and loud and hot in the pub)

After the pub closed, my friend said the bar in her hotel would be open until 2 so we went there, left our stuff in her room, and then we went down to the bar… and Matt and the cast were there too?!?

I’m genuinely not joking, we were NOT stalking him, we had talked about going to pub days ago and - as I said - one of my friends was literally staying at that hotel and the bar there was the closest one still open. To be honest, I was feeling anxious at this point because I was terrified Matt would see us and recognise us but also I was freaking out because I wanted to talk to him so bad as I didn’t get the chance at the stage door during the chaos

It’s a bar where they have music playing, like at a club, but there’s no dancing and they sit you at tables and take your drinks orders, and we were two tables away from the cast

Zachary walked past and said hello to one of my friends again, because he recognised them from earlier, and he grinned/shouted hello back when we waved and said hello

Matt walked past us and the friend mentioned above and I shouted hello at him and waved, but I didn’t want to bother him by going up to him because 1) it was nearly 2am, 2) I didn’t want him to be weirded out or think we were stalking him, and 3) I ’m 99% sure he was drunk because he’d been hanging about in the pub and then the bar for a total of four hours 💀 anyway, Matt smiled and shouted hello back

My friends went outside the hotel to smoke after the bar closed (I was the only one out of a group of 5 who didn’t smoke 😭) and the cast came out to leave, and one of my friends asked him for a picture but his co-worker Jessica Brown-Findlay apparently got mad at her and said “no, we are not doing that”. Matt was super nice to her though and said she looked great, and “know we love you!” before he left

(Side note: one of the other friends thinks Jessica was pissed off because when we were outside the pub earlier, her husband asked my friends for a cigarette and were chatting to him while they smoked (I was there under an umbrella absolutely freezing my tits off lol) and they said it might be a possessive thing? To be genuinely honest, none of us had any clue it was her husband even when he said “oh yeah my wife Jessie is in a play down the road”, like it genuinely didn’t click for any of us that he was talking about Jessica, and he approached us for a cigarette, not the other way around)

Unrelated to Matt but still relevant to understanding the night/my feelings:

I was very exhausted because I started my new job yesterday morning, was up at 6:45am because my dad insisted on dropping me off at 8am despite me not starting until 9, I was on my feet the whole day, I didn’t have time to run home and change so I had to do my make up on the train (luckily my uniform was given to me in the morning so I was able to wear my evening clothes, change into work clothes and then change back at the end of the day), my feet were super sore and blistered because I was wearing brand new trainers from work that didn’t fit properly… yeah. Anyway.

(Side note: I LOVE my new job so much, I am not complaining about it at all, it was amazing, it’s just unfortunate scheduling that I started on the same day I had the ticket for the play)

I missed my last tube and my last train home (last train was at 1am) and ended up having to borrow money to get a taxi to Piccadilly station from the hotel, at which point it was 3am and I was feeling very exhausted AND also emotional

There were issues with the tube because of the weather and so I had to wait an extra 30 minutes while also needing to pee and suffering from exhaustion, didn’t get on a tube until about 3:30? 3:40?

I think I was crying at one point after leaving the hotel because when I got to the tube station to wait for a train, a woman also waiting came to check on me and asked why I had been crying

I kept on dozing off on the tube between stops, and I’m very lucky I didn’t get robbed to be honest (probably because I had my bag on my lap and an arm resting over it)

I ended up in South Ealing at 4:15am, and I knew if I got a bus I wouldn’t be getting to the nearest town to me until 5am (and I still wouldn’t have been home) so I decided “fuck it, I’m spending £27 on an Uber I guess”

I fell asleep in the Uber and the driver was pretty annoyed about it, I ended up getting home at 5am - somehow I was able to remove the rest of my make up, message my friends to tell them I was home safe, get in my PJs and climb into bed

Here’s some photos of the stage before the play started, Matt at the end of the play (covered in paint), and Matt at stage door

(I did NOT take photos or videos of him in the pub or bar, because I want to respect his privacy 🙂🫶🏻 I am also NOT going to share the name of the pub or hotel/bar, not because I want to gatekeep or anything, but because of privacy and out of respect)

[butch-reidentified]

hello hello my lovely Tumblr gals!

I've been waiting to post about this until it was like, a forreal sure thing, but I'm SO excited I gotta share the news 🤩

soooo as most of you already know, my wife & I both have serious chronic health conditions, which come with severe chronic pain as well as all the other wonderful symptoms. We have been struggling to maintain a life of working full time, doing things we enjoy to keep ourselves sane, taking care of our 6 pets, and also getting chores/errands/tasks done like keeping the house clean, grocery shopping and cooking instead of frozen meals and doordash, etc. A couple weeks ago, I posted an ad on a roommate seeking page to "rent" out our spare bedroom. Except instead of money, the majority of the rent would be "paid" by helping us out with those sorts of tasks to help us live as close to a normal life as possible. I created a scaled system where the more assistance = the more the reduction in rent, with a very low cap on the money side of the rent bc we really don't want to take advantage of anyone or profit off renting out a room, so just enough to cover the basic costs. The goal was to find a mutually beneficial arrangement with someone who needed a place to live without paying the current horrifying rental prices of South FL, and was able bodied and capable of helping us out a bit (on their own schedule, around their other work/obligations).

I posted it pretty impulsively when I had the idea, thinking not many people would see it or respond to it, just sort of putting feelers out to see if there was any interest in that kind of arrangement. I specified female only (and of course got multiple messages from men). First thing the next morning, a woman who looks about my age sends me a message. She and her gf have been urgently looking for housing since the plans they had made had fallen through last minute, after they were already packed and everything with their lease ending at the end of February.

She was 100% good vibes right away. We messaged for a couple hours straight, just got talking, and intermittently throughout the day. It turned out there were so many strange coincidences between us, it was uncanny. And talking to her felt like talking to a close friend of many years, not a total stranger. That first day I talked to her, really good things happened to me the rest of the day. Solutions to problems that had been causing me stress for weeks or months fell into my lap. I'm not spiritual or superstitious or anything for the most part, but sometimes the universe is just screaming in your face that something is right.

We kept texting, and planned a video chat "wine date" to discuss the arrangement and get to know each other better. We talked for hours, past 2am, and it felt so natural. Never an awkward moment. We have very similar couple dynamics, we like the same lifestyle and hobbies, we have the exact same sense of humor and communication style, the first woman I had talked to and I go by the same nickname, their dog and one of our dogs are very similar breed mixes and born almost exactly just 1 month apart... I could go on. I mean we even buy the same brand of vapes 😅 They're clean freaks who enjoy cleaning together, and one of them is super into cooking and likes to keep an herb and vegetable garden (we have a huge backyard and have been longing for a garden for ages). I looked up their post in the group, which was posted weeks before mine, and they were a perfect match. We were looking for the exact same things in a roommate.

The decision was made that first video chat night (there have been more since). They were abso-fucking-lutely going to be our new roomies. I wrote up a unique lease, month to month like we both were looking for, and had it looked over by a lawyer, who said we're good to go. My wife and I have been gushing about them to all our friends and our parents. We've been calling it a "couples crush" 😂 I told them that, and they excitedly admitted they've been doing the same thing. My wife and I have also been so much happier and more productive and active since all this started.

These absolute angels have even offered to help us get the house clean from where it's at now instead of us rushing to deep clean before they arrive. They seem genuinely empathetic and like they want to help 😭 And we feel the same way about their housing and financial situation. We own the home, which means there's an inherent power dynamic when renting out a room, so I worked hard to talk to them and create a lease that would equalize as much as possible. My wife and I emphatically expressed that we want them to feel like it's fully their home - we remember from renting in the past how it can sometimes not feel like your home. For me, renting was damaging to my mental health. All the rules and restrictions made me feel unable to create a safe-feeling home environment. We don't want to put any restrictions on them when it comes to pets, drilling into walls, painting the room, re-landscaping the backyard, whatever. We also told them they're always welcome to give us feedback, communicate totally honestly with us about any of their needs, complaints, changes they want to the lease, etc.

Soooo with all that said... they're moving in on Friday! We are all counting the days. We already know we're gonna have a ton of fun together. We even agreed to have "family dinners" sitting together at the table a couple times a week 🙈 We are all just so dorky it's beautiful.

And! I accidentally said "gyns" referring to them in a message 😅 so I had to explain that, and they were SUPER interested and want us to teach them about radical feminism. Like??? We couldn't have created a more perfect roommate situation in a mad scientist's lab. I've been working on trusting my gut recently, as it never seems to lead me astray, and every instinct I have says this is Good.

[bcbdrums]

Happy 4th of July 🥳🎉

Did You have a good time at camp?

Thank you!! 🎆🇺🇸🎆 (Fireworks going off around me past 1:00 AM my gosh lol.) And, I did have a good time!! 😁

Heh, I basically never do personal rambles on my blog, but you've given me the chance and I feel like it.

Gotta mention the Airbnb... Randomly full of huge liquor bottles?? Mostly bourbon, but other things too. Stacked high and deep on every single kitchen cabinet; it was easily 100 bottles if not more. And then suddenly, two days before I checked out... The booze was gone. I have no explanation except I think the homeowners must be in some kind of transition based on other circumstantial evidence, but I'll leave that topic there.

At camp this year they were short-staffed so I was the snack person and the photographer. Now... the latter was daunting. It's a music and movement family day camp (to give the absolute most basic description). I only had my phone, and it's not a new model. So there were many blurry photos daily that I had to delete and then many semi-blurries I kept because otherwise there wouldn't be enough photos.

I had to make a slideshow every night to be played the next morning to show what everyone had done at camp (around a total of 150 ppl at camp including adults, kids separated into groups by age (camp is ages 3 and up) so the slideshow got to showcase each group... Meanwhile, I've no idea how to do a slideshow. I've no idea how to get hundreds and ultimately probably over 2000 photos from my iPhone to my Dell PC. And then the PC won't read the .heic files. Aaaaand.... Camp was many sleepless nights of panic trying to make this happen. (Oh, and the A/V system at the site hosting the camp was buggy too, so I had to work around that.) Wanna give a public thanks to @cannibal-nightmares who pulled over at like 1am that first night when I was panicking to message a bunch of people to try to get help for me, and ultimately saved me hours of work (not that I wasn't up till nearly midnight each night and 2am the last night) on the slideshow, and saved my sanity.

Sounds like more trouble than it's worth, right...? Wrong. I probably spent around $2K to get there/Airbnb/rental car as well, and all my service was volunteer.

Bcb, you're crazy. Why would you do this? Because these people are everything to me. And the profound, profound work they do for children... The program is a music education program but it's based in neuroscience and a philosophy of play/flow-state in the brain for learning. It's extremely precise, well-thought and executed, and proven to work not just for music education, but as...a philosophy of life. I could give you so many anecdotes... The depth of this work cannot be summarized. It's more than a camp and more than a curriculum. And these people care. I say I'd do anything for them, because of the genuine love they've shown for me. And that is ultimately what it comes down to - love.

Everyone in the world should study this philosophy. It has changed my life for the better and quite possibly saved it in many ways. If you're interested, you can PM me for more info.

Thank you pal, for asking!

[masterwords]

down for a while

Summary: Derek asked Hotch if he wanted to talk about it...well, maybe now, at 2am, he does. (Coda to 5x02 - Haunted)

Pairings: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 3.4k

Notes: Every time I watch this episode, I am tempted to write a slightly different take on aftermath to get it out of my system. This one I tried to keep kind of lighthearted. All things considered.

**

It was the snuffling, first. It broke the dream briefly, but he dipped back in happily.

Clooney's incessant snorting and whimpering, that was what finally actually woke Derek. The dog was too well-behaved to bark in the middle of the night unless he sensed danger, but that didn't stop him from trying to find other more unique ways to wake Derek and alert him that there was business to attend to.

When that tactic didn't work, he put his front paws on the edge of the bed and pressed his warm, wet nose into Derek's neck. A bold move, one that usually came with a swat and a groan, perhaps a string of words that would make a sailor blush. Sometimes it blended seamlessly with the dream and Derek woke uncomfortable and feeling sick, but tonight it was at odds with the violence. He was dreaming about Darrin Call's pharmacy massacre. He'd just slipped in the blood, and Clooney's nose wet against his earlobe did not help.

“Whaddayouwant?” Derek grumbled, peering with one blurry eye at the clock across the room. 2:12am. He couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips, and if you told him it was actually a whine (or maybe even a whimper), he might be inclined to argue but it would be weak at best. “Gotta pee? Right now?”

Clooney's tail swished wildly back and forth against the floor and he let out the smallest, least offensive yip in response. That usually meant it was urgent, and it lit a fire under Derek's sleepy ass. The last thing he wanted was a lake of dog piss on his floor after the day he'd had.

Or worse.

The thought of worse made him move even faster, rooting out the slippers that had been kicked under the bed in his haste to get to sleep, and heading for the back door with nothing but a robe between his nudity and the world. He was still tying the belt when he noticed he was alone at the back door.

Clooney didn't follow him, he went rushing toward the front door instead and nosed at the handle. “Back door, buddy...we're not going for a walk...”

Clooney didn't budge. Derek groaned but something about it made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He wouldn't have had the patience for this even if he'd had eight hours of sleep, but so far he was on about the second and he wasn't anywhere near feeling patient.

“I said back, now.” He waited, hand on his hips. “Clooney, what the hell man?” The dog wasn't in the habit of disobeying, he was highly trained, but he wouldn't budge. Just sat at attention, staring at the front door, his nose right beneath the knob. His tail was wagging. Frowning, Derek went to the coat closet and quickly punched in the code to his safe, slipping his piece into his pocket. Overreaction, probably but Clooney was making him feel really damn uneasy.

A gun at his side mitigated the feeling slightly. After what happened to Hotch, after Foyet using his credentials to drop Hotch off at the ER...he was a little on edge himself.

With one hand against his weapon, the other opened the door and out rushed Clooney into the crisp night. He almost called out but stopped himself, instead peering out silently at the empty porch first and then to the yard. All shadows accounted for, nothing out of place. Clooney rushed right to the edge of the sidewalk and stopped...he didn't go past the grass, that was his barrier, and he was a good boy, but Derek saw what he was looking at right away. It didn't take a genius to follow Clooney's urgent line of sight. The dog's senses were keen at least when it came to certain things. Like humans he was unnaturally attached to for reasons Derek would never fully understand.

Where he looked sat Hotch's car, idling without its lights on in the shadow of an old oak tree. He pulled his door mostly closed, left it open only a crack so Clooney could get back inside if he wanted, and tightened the belt of his robe suddenly very aware of his lack of clothing. The breeze caught the fabric, zipped underneath and chilled his bare thighs. What in the hell was going on? Was he insane, walking around outside butt naked? Perhaps.

His slippers scraped against the sidewalk; the eerie silence of the neighborhood scuffed out by his movement. The car's exhaust trickled out in colorless fumes and the engine purred, clicked as it turned over, probably to keep the heater on. Not music, just heat. Bending over, framing himself in the passenger window, he rapped a few times with his knuckles and waved. Hotch didn't even look at him.

The door unlocked, but the car remained running. Derek sighed before grabbing the handle, tightening his robe over his legs, and sliding in. The fabric bunched and he smoothed it out, making sure that his dick wasn't hanging out. That was the last thing he needed. Clooney sat at attention right there at the edge of the yard watching them closely.

“I gotta tell you,” Derek started when it was clear Hotch wasn't going to initiate conversation. “I got some questions about why you're sitting in front of my house at 2am in your car instead of just knocking on the damn door like a normal person.”

“Second thoughts.”

“Yeah? But you didn't leave.”

Hotch angled his face toward Derek, slivers of moonlight throwing his sharp features into a mesmerizing geometry. There were tears shining in his eyes. “Like I said...”

“Yeah. Second thoughts.”

The hum of the engine, the incredible power of the heater, it lulled Derek into a sense of strange calm and he leaned back against the leather seat, closing his eyes. His piece sat heavy against his thigh, a reminder that this was not exactly just a social call. “You wanna come inside? It's a lot warmer in there.”

“I shouldn't. I've already disrupted enough of your night. I only came because I wanted to...” Hotch paused, wiping at a tear with disgust. “I needed to apologize. I repeatedly brushed you off today, was extremely rude, when all you were doing was...”

“Nah, it's all good. I shoulda known better than to ask you to talk about your feelings at a crime scene, that was stupid. Neither of us knows what the hell we're doing right now.”

Hotch bit the inside of his cheek until it nearly bled and frowned. “In any case. Please accept my apology for today. It won't happen again. And...for what it's worth...thank you. For caring. I'm well aware that it isn't easy.”

“What isn't easy, Hotch?”

“I know that I'm not easy to...”

Derek leaned across the console, careful to keep one hand at the opening of his robe, scrunching it closed. His gun slipped between his thighs and rested heavy there. Paying it little mind, he moved so close they were sharing breath and used his free hand to cup Hotch's jaw, fingertips gently grazing prickly skin in need of a shave.

“I've never had a hard time with that.” Okay, maybe that wasn't entirely true, but Hotch looked like he needed a win. Derek could give him that much. Hotch froze as their lips touched, lungs burning for breath. He gasped when Derek pushed breath into him and let his lips part for Derek's searching tongue. Just a quick taste. It was shocking but not all-together unfamiliar and definitely something he'd been thinking about since the last time.

One other time. Long ago, lips sour and coated with sticky beer and popcorn salt, a curiously comfortable kiss in a dimly lit bar to the sounds of Fleetwood Mac. Just a kiss and nothing more after a long day, a really hard long day. His fingers had twitched, his heart thundering with anticipation, and then the apology spilled from Derek's lips. The apology for being inappropriate, for taking advantage of a volatile situation. “The ink isn't even dry on your divorce papers,” he'd muttered, and Hotch couldn't think of a single word to say though every cell in his body protested the separation.

And this, now. He leaned in without hesitation until they were kissing through his tears. “Come inside,” Derek whispered into the kiss. “I'm butt naked under this robe and I think if one of my neighbors sees us out here they're gonna get the wrong idea about the type of guy I am...”

“Naked?” Hotch rasped, straightening up and turning the key in the ignition. The engine clicked off and silence filled the car. Hotch smiled a little. It was kind of sad and a little pathetic, but Derek thought it was also kind of cute.

Refusing to make an excuse for himself and his compromising position, Derek reached for the door handle. “Come inside and talk to me. You owe me.”

“I suppose I do.”

Hotch followed close behind Derek, his hands in his pockets until they reached Clooney who sidled up next to Hotch and kept pace with him. Trotted along right at his knees. He couldn't resist patting him on the head, scratching behind his ears, smiling at the way the dog leaned against him while they walked.

“Dave told me that you were concerned about me this morning. That you were pacing outside my office for an hour."

“Yeah? What else he tell you huh? That was a private conversation.”

Derek's house was warm and quiet, comfortable. So comfortable it was almost disarming. Hotch seated himself on the sofa while Derek walked toward the kitchen, only a few paces away but far enough to make it easier for Hotch to open up. “Only that you didn't argue with him when he said you like me more than you like your job. Is that true, Agent Morgan?”

“Well now that depends on the context, Agent Hotchner...”

Hotch quirked an eyebrow at Derek while he went about his business in the kitchen, pulling out a few beers from his well-stocked fridge. Even at this time of night, or rather morning, he was a skilled host. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Guilty as charged. Most of the time, anyway. You're still a pain in the ass.”

“You opened your door to me in the middle of the night.”

“Yeah,” Derek said, handing Hotch the beer. They both knew he was probably not supposed to be drinking, but one beer wasn't going to kill him and it would give him something to do with his hands in any case. He was just glad it wasn't whiskey, just the smell of it was enough to make him sick these days. “Like I said. Pain in the ass.”

The words were sharp but Derek's tone was anything but, and Hotch couldn't help the way his eyes started to betray him once again. No one had really asked how he was, at least in relation to him as a person instead of him as the Unit Chief. Can you do your job? Can we trust you? That was what laced everyone's concern...everyone but Derek's. Derek knew damn well he could do his job given enough time to settle back in, it was the fear of what the job was going to do to Hotch that was eating at him. The longer he pretended that everything was business as usual, that he could work away the fear and loneliness, the obsession, the pain. Whether he could do his job wasn't in question but whether he should be doing it. That sentiment was almost impossible for Derek to make clear to Rossi, no matter how he'd tried. The man kept digging in on second guessing Hotch and at a certain point Derek simply had to give up.

“I can do my job, Derek,” Hotch offered finally, setting the beer to his lips. It went down easier than he'd anticipated. “But I don't know if I can do everything else. Do you really want to hear about it?"

Derek, scared as he was about what was going to come next, nodded. Of course he did. The offer wasn't in vain. "Yeah. Tell me. Let me in."

"Today was the first day I've left my apartment, except for doctor visits and physical therapy, since Foyet. I sit in that apartment and I'm paralyzed. I can't sleep. I don't use the kitchen. I can't look at Jack's room.” He was keenly aware that the words weren't even passing through any filters, just flying from his mind to his mouth and setting themselves free. It was always easier to talk at 2am with a beer in your hand. "I'm stuck. And I don't know what else to do but be at work where I can breathe. Where I have a purpose."

It was always easier to talk to Derek who would and could fill in all the blanks easily and accurately. He didn't have to explain every detail, every thought. Derek knew plenty without ever having to hear the words. “You wanna stay here tonight?”

That was Derek's charm. He could take in everything Hotch said, and everything he didn't say, and he could choose to force him to elaborate, or he could just hold the words carefully, like fragile things that might just as soon break as they would kill. Tonight, he would hold them close and keep them from doing further damage. If Hotch wanted to talk, he was all ears, but he wouldn't force the issue. He had tried that earlier in the pharmacy and narrowly escaped with his life.

“I shouldn't,” was Hotch's hesitant response. He took another sip of his beer, let it linger for a moment before gulping it down. “There's a patrol car sitting outside of my apartment waiting for me. I told them not to follow me, that I wouldn't be gone long. They'll track my phone if I don't return.”

“Patrol car? They got you under surveillance now?”

“For the time being. We know that Foyet watched Shaugnessey, and Strauss thinks that he may come back to watch me too. I have my doubts. I suspect Strauss is simply trying to keep her eye on me, not Foyet, and this is an easy way for her to do so.”

“You could tell them you're safe, couldn't you? Get out from under it for a while. Just to get a few hours of sleep?”

“Derek, is it really sleep that you're thinking about?”

Derek, knocking back the last of his beer, grinned a little madly. “Well it was...” He paused for effect, letting out a soft chuckle. “Damn. Yeah, sleep is all I meant man. Honest. You look like you could use a good coma.” No one but Derek would even attempt that kind of gallows humor with Hotch now, he knew it. Just the thought of it made his coiled muscles relax. Everyone spent the day walking on eggshells, passing concerned glances when they thought he hadn't noticed, talking and conspiring and wondering behind his back...and here was Derek joking about comas. To say he needed this was an understatement.

“Are you sure?”

“Take my bed. I'll sleep on the couch.”

“Do you no longer have a guest room?” Hotch asked, finishing his own beer finally with a yawn. It had started to get lukewarm.

“I do, I just figured you might want something a little more central. And if I'm out here on the couch, no one's getting in front or back without a fight. Plus that bed isn't as comfortable as mine.”

“And you think...”

“Man. You just got stabbed, you're barely healed so don't give me any of that the couch is fine shit. Just take the nice bed and enjoy something for once in your damn life.”

In Derek's room, the darkness was almost too quiet. There was a faint hum from beneath the radiator, clicking as it forced heated water through, and just enough wind outside to remind him now nice it was not to be sitting in his car. He'd already sent a text to his surveillance team telling them he was going to be out a while longer but to please just keep an eye out for Foyet around his home. Whether they would do that or not didn't concern him much, he was just playing the game. What did concern him was that he was crawling into Derek's cool bed sheets, into the smell of him, and curling up still in his suit and socks.

He'd left the door ajar, just a slip. There was enough light trickling in from the hallway that he could see around him once his eyes adjusted. Clooney snored right outside the door, small snuffling sounds, scraping of claws on hard wood, muffled barks of a dreaming dog. And still his eyes were open, he couldn't seem to make his body shut off. He twisted in the sheets, curled in on himself, always keeping one nervous eye on the door. He simply could not relax.

When his body felt too restless to even shift and twist again, he got out of bed and paced with his hands on his head, scrubbing desperately over his exhausted face. His chest hurt, but worse was his back, forced to pull double duty while his stomach healed. The tender muscle over his tailbone ached deeply while he walked, and he pressed at it mindlessly to try and quiet it.

Floorboards creaked beneath his weary socked feet, over and over. He would pace the room a few times, crawl back into bed and bury himself beneath the blankets only to repeat the process. It wasn't even that he was worried, he felt safe, perfectly safe in Derek's home...and yet.

Before he had a chance to crawl out of the bed for the fourth or fifth time, he felt a weight on the bed and the mattress shifted. He peered out through the nest of blankets to find Derek reclining on top of the blankets, staring at him.

“You haven't slept.”

“No.”

“And you're keeping me awake.”

“I'm sorry.”

“What's keeping you up? What do I need to do?”

Without warning, there were tears on Hotch's pillow. He didn't even know why. He could guess, perhaps, but there were too many choices. He was simply sad, he supposed. There was a lot on his plate and if he was being honest he was always right on the verge of tears anyway...it was just harder to hold them back now.

“Okay. Hey. How about I stay in here too?”

“Don't you dare,” Hotch started, sniffling indignantly at the tone in Derek's voice. “I'm not a damsel in distress. You and your shining armor can just go back to the couch.”

“Well, it's a bath robe and you know damn well that isn't what I'm doing, you asshole. I just can't get any sleep if you're up walking around all night in here making the damn floorboards creak. Old houses don't keep secrets. Plus you're disturbing the hell outta Clooney. Poor guy's a wreck. Go the fuck to sleep.”

Hotch smiled wearily at that and gave in. He wasn't winning this argument. He never really did with Derek, anyway. Sure, sometimes he got away with it at work, throwing orders around like darts when he had to make a point but at the end of the day...it didn't leave him with much more than heartache and an apology dancing on his tongue.

“Clooney hasn't moved in an hour,” Hotch whispered, but in spite of his protest he moved closer to Derek's warmth, his weight there on the bed.

“You still want me to leave?” Derek asked in an exasperated huff and Hotch shook his head from beneath the blankets.

“No.”

“Then go to sleep.” No way Foyet was getting in there, creeping around in Derek's shadows. Not with Clooney the attack dog snuffling around in his sleep right in the doorway. For a few hours, they could forget about all of it.

[saratravel]

So let's talk about yesterday. It's a loooong story so sit tight.

The day before as I was resting up from finishing up Vilnius sightseeing, I started looking ahead to the next days. I was to pick up a car at 8 but my hotel breakfast started at 8 and I wasn't going to pass up a free meal so I accepted that I'll get to the car around 9.

Pick up car (was going to take public transit but decided it was easier to grab a Bolt), hit up an ATM, go see castles on the way to Kaunas, see an art collection/sightsee in Kaunas to kill time until 3pm check in. Since it's a Sunday, the place I'm renting from isn't in office, but I am told everything is set up for me. This was the part that was worrying me, plus figuring out what to do with me car. There's street parking, I'm told, but the American in me is iffy about public street parking.

I fret. I fret a lot. I sleep only two hours. But there's no way out than through it, so I start my day with my breakfast and head on out. At 8, I paid the remainder of my hotel charge with my card and pay for my Bolt to the car rental.

At the car rental, I pull out my card to pay. No big deal, I've used it twice before. The guy behind the counter looks at the receipt printed in Lithuanian:

"It says the payment is over the limit?"

I freeze "....what? I have not been told about a limit."

We try again, same thing. My phone starts buzzing, informing me of the blocked charges. Usually, either by text or email, I'm able to respond somehow to say no there are valid and try again. There is no such option this time.

The cashier suggests trying to break the sum in two. The first one goes through- great! The second is blocked "the payment is over limit." So we're thinking there may be a daily limit. A daily limit I have never been informed of.

"And it's the middle of the night in the US..." says the cashier.

"I was given a 24hr number, let me go yell at someone."

I call. Robo-call answer, please give your card number to look up.... Sorry, I can't find it, let me connect you to a representative.

I wait 5 minutes. A tired call center representative picks up. "Can you give me your number...." As robotic as the robo-call machine, he says every 30 seconds, "Please wait one moment....."

Until 5 minutes later, finally, "our systems have not been working. I can try to look up your account via social security number as well...."

I explain my situation. I'm in Europe, I'm trying to rent a car.... "I would be happy to help you, but our system is down. Please call again in 1-2 hours after we have re-set the system."

"But I'm stuck here."

"I would be happy to help you, but-"

I begrudgingly thank him and hang up. I ask the cashier if it's possible to pay for the other half with a card number. It's a little embarrassing calling up Mommy to help when you're a 30 year old woman, but I know she would be happy to do all she can. But, it's about 2am where my family is, and midnight where my husband is. No one answers their phones. At a loss, I contact my friend in Norway, where it is about 8 am, to at least have someone to talk through the situation.

At this point, the worst that would really happen is I sit in a car rental waiting area until the Visa servers work. I have about 10 euros cash on me, plenty for meals here. I had eaten a big breakfast, so I wasn't hungry anyway and still had a few back-up snacks. It's a safe area, and I'm right by the airport, so I could probably find a physical exchange booth for the rest of my US cash. It is an inconvenience, but nothing is risking personal harm. I remind myself of this as I continue to problem solve.

Then, my Norwegian friend sends a life raft. He offers to front the other half. I nearly begin to cry. We have been close friends for a decade and both of us have treated the other to airfare (I had gathered money from our friend group to come visit us in America in 2015 and he and another in that group surprised me with tickets to Reykjavik in 2018). I wish I could fully put into words how much I cherish him as a friend. He demands 400 hugs as payment when we meet in Helsinki. I think I can do that (and also pay him back the money, of course).

Once the car is paid, they hand me a key and. I am on my way. It's castle day, so let's drive to the castles and call my bank again. It also happens to be Father's Day in Lithuania so the castle and outer lake area is packed. I find street parking and sacrifice 2,50 euros for an hour of parking. I use some of the time to call Visa back, as it had been about two hours since the first call. The woman who answers explains again that the servers are down but they are definately working on it. Cards have been declined and no one can access accounts, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience.

I explain my situation again.

"Oh, that is not good."

"No.... no, it's not."

"Please call back in 1-2 hours."

".....Okay, thank you."

I get out of my car and start walking to the castle. The original plan was to go inside, maybe take a tour. There are two castles in the area- one on an island and one in a peninsula. I go to the island one and try to clear my mind to enjoy the view. There are boat rentals, souvenir shops, and some interesting peddlers selling knick-knacks such as wooden bird call whistles. It's much easier to walk past when you have no money, though, so I press forward.

Along with the father's day crowd, it's also just very crowded with tourist groups. I take some pictures of the outside and inside (before the ticket booth) and give a quick walk around the outside. Then, I have an idea. A bit of a crazy one, but it may just work.

My itinerary was to do castles and Kaunas sightseeing. The next day was the big driving trip to The Hill of Crosses, roughly 2hr from Kaunas and 2hr to my next accommodations in Kleipeda. It's way out there, but this is one sight I really did not want to miss. Since the car is paid for and has a full tank of gas, and the Hill of Crosses is free to see, I would likely not need to use my card for hours. It's a 2.5 hour drive from where I was.... that should give Visa plenty of time to sort their shit out.

And this is the nice thing about solo travel. I don't need to confirm this plan with anyone else. I don't need to worry about another person's needs. Don't need to do restroom stops or food runs for anyone but me. And I grew up running up and down I35 in Texas for hours, so I'm more than ready for a spontaneous trip. I can assess myself, balance my resources, and do what I need to do for no one else but me. I hop back in my car and set off....

That's all for this post, it all resolved in the end and I have cash and can use my card again! But I need to start my day so I'll post more about the drive and The Hill of Crosses later.

[chidoroki]

Ron Kamonohashi EP3

aka: your typical hot spring shenanigans

I really wanna know what’s the deal with those markings on Ron’s body. Aside from the 96 looking one on the side of his neck, there’s smaller ones around it that we don’t see nowadays so did the majority of them fade?

“And to ensure that justice is never overshadowed by evil, we train detective. We cannot have a detective who kills people.” I know both organizations have their differences, but BLUE reminds me of the Sibyl System just a little bit.. also Bifrost but only because of how everyone is sitting around a large table acting all superior.

The lady in charge at BLUE talking about Ron’s punishment only to have the upbeat OP play seconds right after is kinda hilarious. Talk about a mood shift.

Aww Ron being such a good cat dad buying it all kinds of food and stuff. Also, his shirt with the little face is adorable.

He’s gonna win the lottery on the first try, isn’t he.. yuuuupp, a trip to the hot springs for you!

“We’ve handed out both the grand and second-place prizes.” I bet ya anything the purple haired man from BLUE won second.

Oh, speak of the devil.. now that we got a better look at him.. yeah, he’s fine. & he does indeed share a voice actor with Friede so that’s gonna give me whiplash hearing my adorable professor suddenly sound all sinister.

Nevermind this man also winning the lottery, he’s somehow working at said spring instead. Glasses fit him well too.

Oh! Yeah now that we can get a better look at Ron, he really doesn’t have any of those other markings on his body anymore besides the one on his neck.

“I once suffered injuries all over my body, yet this was the only one that scarred.” I’ve received answers yet now have more questions!

Even Ron believes part of it looks like a 6, but still, how did ya get a scar like that?

This man is obsessed with his black sugar syrup that he even drowns his rice with it.

Uh huh, I had a feeling Ron was gonna take the ping-pong game seriously so I was excited to see a full match, but the fool lost the ball after the first serve.. shame.

Oh my god, it was Amamiya who won the second place prize! Poor girl walked right in on the boys in the bath.. she’s never gonna live that down.

Ron is so hellbent on playing Life with everyone and he’s gonna get his wish darn it!

Ohhh that wife from earlier found lifeless in the spring, seems as if that legend is coming true.

With everyone playing Life from midnight to 2am, that really lowers the suspects down a bit I think.

Ron, for fucks sake, always getting up close and personal to the dead huh?

Damn, purple-Friede putting all the heat on Amamiya instantly since she was the only one who returned to her room last night without playing the game.

Oh he definitely planned for this so he could catch Ron sleuthing.

I swear I’m gonna swoon each and every time we get a glimpse of Ron’s eyes.

[road-killdaydreams]

over the past two weeks I have been dealing with one of the worst experiences I have ever had with a community theatre.

I have a very strong suspicion that they are changing aspects of my design that they don't like without me there. As a designer I am offended by this. That's my intellectual property. I wrote that lighting program.

back in April I accepted a union position at a local venue - part of this agreement was to be able to design and operate a musical there. This show was opening the same night as a previous contract I had agreed to. (both would open the second week of june) As soon as I found this out I went to the producer of the non union contract, and let him know what had happened. I told him that I was willing to back off of the project because I was not likely to be available for evening runs during tech week. I offered to hire an assistant designer using the money out of my contract fee. He dismissed that offer and promised to be available to take notes for the runs and coordinate them with me, as long as I could be there during the day to do work notes. I agreed and continued to do all the paperwork and rehearsal prep that I could.

The set ended up being rather complex and the show required a good few specials, practicals, and an LED tape project. I have worked with all of these before but never had to tackle all of them on my own, but I was under the impression the producer would be willing to help me and be there. He was not.

I had to fight tooth and nail with my boss at the union job to get a day off to be able to be there for load in.

Anyway I am there load in day for 14 hours and dont even get to do a focus with my lights because the set is not complete. I focus on other things to do. As the set goes up I lose access to about half of my light fixtures. When the director comes in she tells me she would rather not deal with me at all that day and leaves before I can show her much of anything. When I leave that night my car battery dies.

Luckily my partner is able to take me into work the next morning to work for the community theatre, from 8am to 5pm, then I go to work the union gig from 6pm - 2am. I have a breakdown at the union gig cause I am stressing about how I am going to get both shows done with no car to get between the two.

basically the whole week is like this. I wake up early to go do community theatre, stay up late to do union work. on tuesday I am late to the theatre to get my car battery replaced. I am moving intelligent fixtures on my own on top of a ladder with wheels on the base (OSHA Violation). I am dealing with a data system the producer misrepresented his understanding of. the producer and director ar both over the age of 60 so they do not understand why I keep asking for them to record the rehearsals and they don't. So I am running blind on even the placement of people onstage.

Monday night they are just doing spacing so I give them just a full stage look. Tuesday I had a structure of all the blackouts and area lighting for the show. I let the stage manager know but she didnt hear me and just pulled up the same lights as the night before. On wednesday I text the director asking if the night had gone better on tuesday and she just said "a bit". I have no notes from the producer, because he has lost multiple operators and cannot take notes while filling in those roles. He takes no notes all week. The stage manager also does not take notes for me.

on thursday (the day before we open) I am finally given dark time to do my work. This is the first time i have been able to see my work under show conditions because the scenic team had to have all the lights on for safety. (that evening they throw a fit because I ask for more dark hours) I dont actually get that much done that day because the stage manager and i had JUST had time to sit and share cues and walk through the show (had to beg her to come in) the director was to come in and look at my stuff. She is over an hour late. When she does show up she is uninterested in what I have for her and talks the whole time about how unhappy she is to have had to come in. When she leaves I dont get to do any notes cause the scenic team is there and I can no longer keep the lights off.

Friday I complete all the notes. No one says anything and I feel really uncomfortable and I leave.

Saturday afternoon I get a text from the director stating that if I had watched the show i would have seen a million things wrong with it. I am very upset and send a screenshot to the producer who calls me and tells me he thinks the show looks great and that the director didnt mean it like that (gaslighting).

Monday night I get a call from him with multiple notes from the playwright about the looks that I had made. They claim because they did not see any of them till opening night that it was reasonable to ask for changes. I agree to some of them because they are basic illumination issues and some things I had also been unsure about if they would work for the scene. Others I can tell are just based on taste and spite.

on tuesday the producer texts me and asks if I can come to the theatre and do the notes. I tell him i have to be at my other job in an hour and I cannot come in. he says he will just do the notes himself. I tell him thats a violation of my intellectual property. He screams at me that it is his show and he will do what he wants with it. I tell him if thats how he feels he can pay out half of my contract and take my name off of the show. He screams at me he thinks I violated the contract anyway because of my absence at rehearsals. (he has not given me a contract)

I am absolutely over it at this point but I tell him I am willing to make some of the changes and i can walk him through how to do it over the phone so that I do not have to come in. He agrees and we do the changes I want to do. He says passive agressively "i guess I will go to bat for you with the playwright on the other changes" (this is his job)

The following day the performance report states that one of the gobos was obstructed during the final scene. These were one of the things the playwright wanted to cut out of spite and because of his bad taste in lighting. As a decent designer does I am talking to the stage manger about solutions when she abruptly tells me "it has been resolved". I email back asking how it had been resolved. Still waiting on the answer.

I have been vibrating with anxiety at the prospect of havinng to go to bat for myself with these people who have shown themselves to be both liars and passive aggressive. I want to just walk away entirely, but I dont want to have gone through all of that without getting somewhat paid for my work. I also left my tool bag there and it wouldnt sit right with me to not be there to strike the show.

My heart hurts a lot, and I feel very taken advantage of. My friend in the industry just keeps telling me to leave them in the dirt behind but I think its because she doesnt want to engage in actual problem solving with me. I feel so lost on what the right thing is to do. I dont want to deal with this producer anymore, and I am considering going to his board but I do not think they would even understand the situation

[rianafying]

was away from my phone for a day and it feels like i haven’t been on tumblr in ages.

it’s 2am rn, raining heavily, im enjoying this a lot. but i can’t help but feel overwhelmed by all the tasks that await me. just always, generally, in life. they’re not difficult to people, but they’re near impossible to me. i feel very scared very often. stability feels foreign and instability feels awful. cried a lot at the protest today, i can’t do protests they’re emotionally just too much for me. i’ve been daydreaming about falling in love. nobody in my mind, just generally, the idea of love. which is good i guess? it’s healthy to want it. i’m not as damaged as i had feared. but i really need to get a little more control over my life. drinking tea really helps with the nerves. gives me clarity. shuts down most of the chaos in my head makes it so that i can follow and complete one train of thought at a time. feels like a miracle drug but it’s just plain black tea, the cheapest most generic one i could find. crazy i know. i’ve been rewatching bridgerton. i really do love the show. and i have the fattest crush on jonathan bailey. embarrassing i know. it’s my guilty pleasure show. found some good music lately. new stuff. on repeat. added to my coming of age summer playlist. the age being 24. i can’t believe im going to be 24 soon and im so proud of myself not for anything i’ve achieved but instead for starting to let go of my obsession with achievement. there’s no good reason to torture oneself over never finding enough success under the horrible system that is capitalism. nothing is ever enough. makes me think of dc, when he said if you can, take my hand, i promise you’ll find love again, love again. very unrelated but also extremely related to my current situation. not soon though. i really hope it’s not soon. i’m enjoying my solitude. i swear the next time i do this whole love thing it’s going to be so different from anything i have ever experienced before. if there even is a next time. only time shall tell. i think time is the only thing can can be told and do the telling. i might be wrong, there might be a hundred other things. but. back to life as i know it today, i should sleep. i should shower then i should apply my medicine then i should sleep. i should also drink water. very very important. crazy how so much work is essential for the body to keep on living. and how it lets you know very aggressively when it has not had enough. food, sleep, movement, sun, medicine, and the list goes on. there’s so much stuff i need to throw out. so many people whose messages i have to reply to. i often forget because 90% of texting is just formality and roughly 10% is actual information exchange. i don’t think i’ve ever truly been missed by someone. my friends always say they miss me. i miss them dearly, but i can’t imagine being missed. like to think that they felt my absence and “missed” “me”. what a crazy world and what a lucky girl i am. at least in this regard. i wonder why hank and john have not spoken up about palestine. i wonder how anyone i have ever respected could stay silent while witnessing cruelty of this level. i’m not even a sjw or a particularly passionate activist. i don’t normally feel like everyone needs to care about something. but this? this is just. beyond. just beyond. everything. i worshipped hank and john. they taught me almost everything i know and i never thought i could ever be let down by them. yet here i am. learned my lesson about worshipping people. but what about god? god is so much worse, like asfsgshdjdkdldlflkkkl. it’s nearly 3am. i always do this. i always stay up too late the night before an important gig. it’s the over thinking that keeps me from peace. i’ll take some stevia w me to the studio so i can make my tea when im there! my brain.

i hope i don’t have to move back to bangladesh, because it is terrible over there. especially now that im seeing all the election season atrocities. i dont know what will happen in my life but i know that im trying my best. i’m always trying to prove myself, but to whom? who am i trying to answer to? pobody’s nerfect, i need to take it easy. goodnight for now.