#BUT then suddenly something in me stopped myself

[dazednmatthews]

number neighbor!matt x reader: semi face to face (part four point five)

the thrum of the facetime ring had y/n very rightfully shitting bricks.

it wasn’t that she was scared of matt, nor would she ever let him know what she really thought of him, but the thought of finally talking to him semi-face to face was something that sent a weird hum through her veins.

they’d been talking for close to three weeks now, annoying him becoming a quintessential part of her days. she wouldn’t admit it to him, but she liked matt. as a friend. he was funny, and despite what she constantly told him, he wasn’t boring at all. she would have stopped trying a long time ago if he was.

on the third ring, matt picks up. the lighting in his room is warm, pale yellow filling her screen. the motherfucker is laid in bed, shirtless of course, hair fluffy and curling into his eyes.

it makes her sick to her god damn stomach the way the silver chain sits on his collarbones. and the way she can see stubble aligning his jaw. and the way the blanket just barely covers his chest. she wants to hang up.

she’d lost her ability to speak suddenly, so when matt raises an eyebrow, she knows he’s about to start something with her. “hello?” he draws out the ‘o’. “are you going to say something or am i gonna talk to myself during this?”

it’s enough to snap her out of whatever the fuck trance he had her in. “it’s been twenty seven seconds and i already wanna hang up.”

he smirks slightly, “i think that’s a lie.”

“whatever,” she grumbles. “why don’t you have any clothes on? classless.”

“i have pants on. wanna see?” y/n holds her hand up to the camera, flipping her middle finger. matt laughs. it’s a nice laugh. oh fuck. “am i distracting you?”

“i will hang up if you start this shit again.”

“fine, fine.” matt sits up slightly, angling the camera more on his face. he leans forward, eyebrows furrowed. “let me see your room.”

y/n is sitting at her desk, avoiding open makeup bottles and random pens strewn about. she shrugs, flipping the camera. her room is filled to the brim with things. her walls are covered in posters; from her favorite horror movies and icons and just films in general to her favorite musicians. she even has a funny minion poster in the corner that her best friend got her for a gag gift. she loves it just the same though.

“other than that fucking minion poster,” matt rolls his eyes. “you kind of have good taste.”

she scoffs. “kind of? bye. my taste is impeccable.”

matt eyes the poster right next to her closet door. “you like mac miller?”

she nods fondly. “he’s one of my favorite artists.”

something in his voice changes. “me too.”

“you wanna be me so damn bad. it’s flattering.”

it’s matt’s turn to scoff. “i actually couldn’t think of anything worse.”

y/n ignores him, giving him the full tour. she shows him the extent of her cd collection, which he of course, has something to say about all the disney channel soundtracks. she simply states that, “good music knows no bounds. it’s not my fault shake it up had the best ghost writers.” and yeah, matt does laugh at that.

she shows him the various pieces of art her sister has drawn her, which he’s actually really loves. they bicker about whether or not astrology is real, again, when she shows him her crystal collection. predictably, it ends up with her calling him a bastard and him telling her she’s insane a thousand times.

when she gets to her book case, he looks surprised. “you read?” his eyes are scanning the screen. “those are all yours?”

y/n’s face twists at the borderline insult. “are you calling me fucking stupid or something?”

“no!” he sounds kind of frantic. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just meant i didn’t know you enjoyed books like that.”

she shrugs, flipping the camera back to her and sitting back at her desk. “there’s a lot you don’t know about me, matt.”

she pretends to find something interesting in her reflection, not seeing matt’s eyes turn slightly soft. “yeah. i see.”

when it’s his turn to show his room, y/n’s surprised at how clean it is. there’s a bed and a desk with a monitor, headphones next to the keyboard. his bed is big and looks comfy, dark red silk sheets on it. it makes something in her stomach flip. she tells it to shut the hell up.

she teases him for the few stuffed animals he has on his bed. “aww, matt. you big softie.”

“yeah, yeah, what the fuck ever. they’re cute.”

“mr. tough guy, making room on his bed for his plushies. adorable.”

“go to hell, y/n.”

there’s not really much else in there but a couple framed pictures, so it’s over pretty quick. and when it is, something weird happens. the two sit on the phone, for hours. they talk about any and everything, bicker about the same things and tell each other more about themselves. y/n learns that he has the cutest little dog named trevor, he also likes to read from time to time and that he’s obsessed with watching tv.

she tells him about her parents and how they aren’t as close anymore, her siblings and how she wishes she could see them more and that she has an unhealthy attachment to word searches.

it’s nice, she decides.

it only ends when there’s a bang at matt’s door, followed by it flinging open. “matt, can you take me to the gas station? i want twizzlers.” one of his brothers says.

the other one flops down next to him on his bed, poking matt in the stomach. “i need chips in my system, like now.”

matt closes his eyes and sighs. “you both are so fucking annoying.” he turns to the side. “i’m on the god damn phone.”

the middle one in that one picture matt sent, chris she thinks, pokes his head into the frame. “oh shit, is that the girl that you’ve been texting?”

the other triplet, nick, let’s out a laugh. “you mean the one he never shuts the fuck up about-“ and suddenly the audio is cut off and matt is out of his bed.

y/n is taken aback by the statement. matt talks about her to his brothers? she would definitely be putting that in her back pocket for later.

she watches matt leave his own room and hears the sound come back. “i’ve gotta go, y/n. they’ll only get more annoying and i don’t feel like cleaning up a crime scene if i kill them.”

she smiles in amusement. “that’s fine, i should probably finish my laundry anyway.”

there’s a moment of silence and then she can hear the smirk in his voice way before she sees it. “yeah i noticed. do you wash that pair of lacy black underwear on your floor on delicate or regu-“

“goodbye, matthew!”

her face heats up as she presses the end call button, cutting off his maniacal laughter.

as y/n sits in silence for a second after he’s gone, she wonders if matt felt the shift between them just as much as she did.

a/n: yes the inspo is the still of matt from the new tiktok cause that shit got me soooo bad. anyway hope you guys liked this!

TAGLIST:

@sturnioloco @peachmels @sugrhigh @rootbeerworshiper @hollandsangel @sturnolio-luvs @mattsobvimyfav @misscocodiorsblog @ilovechrisssturniolo @pepsiboyy @braindead4l @mxqdii @fawnchives @hearts4chriss @certifiednatelover @nmegamett20 @imaslut4kehlani @dominicfikue @wovenribbons @streamermattsgf @pr1ncessmatt @pinksturniolo @yourfavoritefangirl @nickmillersn1gf @freshxsturniolo @sturniolobltch @mattspolitank @lookingformyromeo @alorsxsturn @imwetforyourmom @kiarastromboli @sleepysturnss @mattscoquette @sturncakez

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

The Surprise (Part 1)

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: mentions of sex, some explicit language, let me know if I need to add anything please! Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: Your life with Emily takes an unexpected turn when she steps in as Unit Chief of the BAU. It takes you about a month to pack up you and Emily's London flat and meet her in D.C. What she doesn't know is that you've brought back a surprise.

You collapsed into bed next to Emily, huffing and spent from a day of directing movers and unpacking boxes.

"You alright?" she asked, leaning over you to push your hair out of your face.

"Yeah," you breathed, closing your eyes. "Just tired."

"I am so–" She kissed your forehead. "Glad." Your cheek. "You're here." She pressed her lips into yours and you felt your whole body relax.

She kissed you hungrily, passionately, as if it'd been weeks and, well, you guessed it had. She started moving down your neck, and you groaned.

"Emily..."

"Mmhm?"

"I'm too tired for this."

"Even if you didn't have to do anything?" she said, her eyebrows raised.

You sighed, caressing her face. "You're very tempting, but I feel sweaty and gross and jet lag is kicking my ass. Tomorrow?"

"Of course," she said, planting one more kiss on your lips.

It was no secret in your relationship that, of the two of you, Emily had the higher sex drive. But she was always respectful, always made sure that you really wanted it. And if you didn't, she never, ever made you feel bad. It was one of the many reasons you loved her. And you'd both discovered that it only made the next time better.

You smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Snuggles are okay, though."

"Just okay!?" she said, teasing you. She lay down and pulled you into her, and you rested your head on her chest, breathing deeply.

"More than okay," you whispered. "The best."

"I missed you so much," Emily said, placing a kiss on your forehead, and tracing the skin on your back underneath your shirt.

"I missed you, too."

After a few minutes, Emily spoke again, her voice quiet and somber.

"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"Uprooting yourself for me. Again."

You tilted your head to look at her. "I'd do it ten more times."

She held you just a little tighter after that.

"Oh!" you exclaimed suddenly, launching yourself out of her arms. "I forgot! I got you something."

"Oh, yeah?"

You pulled a folded sheet of paper out of your backpack and handed it to her, smiling mischievously. You crawled back into bed, sitting crosslegged as Emily propped herself up on her elbow to read what was on the page.

"Wow," she remarked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "A blood test. How did you know?"

You shoved her. "Just read it, you dork."

Her eyes moved back and forth over the page. "HCG markers? Honey, you know I don't know what any of this means, right?"

You waited, holding your breath, nearly bursting with excitement.

"Gestationa–" Emily stuttered to a stop, her eyes growing wide. She turned quickly toward you. "Y/N, are you pregnant!?"

You nodded, beaming, your face flushed.

Emily's eyes were filling with tears, and you grabbed one of her hands in yours.

"No, you're not," she argued, fighting against hope as you nodded and nodded. "No, they said it didn't work. I called and talked the doctor myself."

You gasped. "We'll circle back around to the fact that you didn't trust what I told you about my IVF results later, but I don't want to mar our beautiful moment here."

"Y/N!" Emily exclaimed, looking at you, desperately hopeful and desperately scared at the same time. "It was negative...""

"It was a false negative," you told her, nearly giddy with the information. "I had them run it three times last week. It was positive every time."

A few tears dripped down Emily's cheeks and she sniffed, brushing them away and sitting up to grasp your face in her hands.

"You're pregnant," she said again, as if she still couldn't quite believe it.

"Yes." And the grin that broke out on Emily's face–giddy and hopeful and brimming with excitement–was the most beautiful her face had ever been to you.

"We're having a baby!"

"We're having a baby," you confirmed before she pressed her lips to yours, wrapping her arms around your neck.

She kissed the spot behind your ear, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. She kissed the bottom of your chin, your collarbone, then lifted up your shirt, laying her hands gently on your stomach and planting a kiss right in the middle.

"We're having a baby," she repeated, quietly, as if to the little clump of cells that would become your child.

And suddenly it was like a switch had been flipped in Emily, as if she'd moved from shock and disbelief to pure, unadulterated excitement.

"How big do you think he is right now!?" she asked, voice and eyes bright as she pressed her face into your stomach. She cut you off before you could say anything.

"Actually, hang on." She grabbed the sheet of paper from beside her and looked it over studiously, then started scrolling on her phone.

"So according to this, you're at six weeks," she observed.

"Mmhm," you confirmed, leaning back into the pillow and running your fingers through Emily's hair. "The due date's September 19."

Emily squealed. "Oh, honey, this says his little heart is developing!"

"Or her," you argued, but you were grinning ear to ear watching Emily. She was giddy, elated, happier than you'd ever seen her, and she was pretty damn happy with you. You pictured her next to you on the bed, so soon, cradling a baby. Your baby. Yours and hers. The thought gave you butterflies.

"And his little arms and legs and everything are starting to grow! Look at him, Y/N!" she continued, lifting her phone to show you what was essentially a concentrated cluster of organic matter. "He looks like a little shrimp!"

"Or she! Or they, we don't know!" you repeated, more emphatically this time.

"He's a boy, at least for now," Emily decided. She was so nonchalant, so sure about it, that it annoyed the hell out of you.

You scoffed. "How would you know that? You've known about the baby for maybe ten minutes."

She shrugged. "I'm a profiler. I know these things."

You scowled at her, incredulous. "You profiled our six-week-old fetus?"

"Uh-huh."

"Sure you did."

But Emily had already moved on. "He's the size of a lentil!"

You sighed, but you were happy at heart. Happier than you'd been in a long time. You were home with Emily. Back in the States. And there was a little tiny human coming soon.

"Oh, babe, this says morning sickness happens around now," Emily read, absentmindedly stroking your thigh. "Are you having that?"

"Not yet..."

"That's good." She kept reading. "What about... sore breasts?"

"Yes. So be gentle tomorrow please."

Emily grinned like an idiot and kept scrolling.

"Mood swings? Yes," she said.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, smacking her over the head with a pillow.

"Not in a bad way! It just... makes more sense now."

You hated yourself for it, but at that moment, tears flooded your eyes. Damn hormones.

"It's not my fault, Em!" you blubbered. Alarmed by your outburst, she threw her phone to the side and quickly moved to wrap you in her arms. "I just have a lot of feelings right now. And I'm sorry I'm so moody, but you know what? At least your body isn't the Grand Central Station of hormones!"

"Okay," Emily soothed, pulling you close and wiping tears from your cheeks. "Oh, baby, that's a lot of feelings. Just let it out."

You shook and cried, and you were sure you looked absolutely pitiful. You couldn't remember feeling anything so strongly before in your life. You hated it.

"I can't stop crying all the time. I cried with the movers. I cried on the plane, even, and the flight attendant came over to ask if I was okay. I hate crying, Em! And I hate talking to strangers!"

"I know you do," she said, smoothing your hair. "But you know what? I'm gonna be right here with you, okay? I'll talk to all the strangers. And you can cry all you need to."

You hiccuped a bit and leaned into her.

"And soon," she said, slipping a hand under your shirt to place it over your stomach. "There'll be a little tiny us here, and it'll all be worth it."

You exhaled deeply and pressed your face into her chest. "You better do whatever I want for the next eight months."

She chuckled. "I'll do my best, anyway. For you and the little guy."

"Or girl."

"Guy," she said to herself, so quietly you knew you weren't meant to hear it. You smiled anyway.

[cambrinkisbae]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚scary love˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

nika muhl x reader

summary - you've never experienced true love until nika came along and part of you doesn't believe that you deserve her.

word count - 1.6k

themes :

-angst

-fluff

warnings :

-arguing

-cursing

a / n - inspired by scary love by the neighborhood and dedicated to my love (not the bad parts though only the sweet ones!)

Nika's hair always felt nice on my bare chest. I felt at peace when I'd wake up to her lips just barely touching my collarbones. my hands were still tangled in her hair but I slowly twirled some strands in between my fingers. this didn't feel right. it felt right in the moment but in the back of my mind, I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve to have this perfect woman in my arms. it felt like I took up her warmth. I slowly peeled my arms off of her back and slid out from under her. her head gently fell against the pillow I was previously lying on. I watched as she didn't make a single move. I stood there and admired her messy hair sprawled out on the silky pillowcase. her fingers tightened around nothing but fabric, I could tell she wanted me back there. but I still walked to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. brushed my hair and brushed my teeth with the same thought running around my head. the same thoughts.

I can't fuck this up 

yet the moment I felt okay and comfortable, a flip had switched. a couple of weeks after that morning I was feeling amazing. I felt like everything I was blessed with was meant for me. but the second an ounce of doubt ran through my head, I blew.

"Baby who is this?" Nika said holding my phone to my face. her voice was soft and calm but part of me still felt threatened. it wasn't anyone. it was just my best friend and I happened to have her contact as "babe💞" the same emoji I had next to Nika's name on my phone. I knew that it was just my best friend and nothing more but for some reason, I felt the need to panic. as if I had something to hide. "oh. uh, it's just- no one." I snatched my phone out of her hand leaving it empty as if it was searching for something to grasp onto. I held my phone to my face as I quickly changed the contact back to my best friend's name and a red heart next to it. I felt guilty for nothing. when I looked up I saw Nika with watering eyes ready to burst. and suddenly I copied. this is the last thing I wanted. Had I fucked it up? "y-you can tell me who it is." her voice was trembling beneath her lips. I could tell that inside she was fuming and wanted to explode but she had always hidden her angry side from me so she refused to blow. I quickly stepped closer to her body, cradling her jaw. I tried to calm her down without telling her the truth even though I knew that was what would fix things. something was stopping me. She tilted her head in the opposite direction of my hand, ripping her skin from my own. "who was it? just fucking tell me." why didn't I tell her. why couldn't I? I rested my hands against my stomach trying to control my increasing breath. "i-i don't know." my voice trailed off with shaky breaths. what the fuck was stopping me. I held onto my arms pretending it was Nika. the room went quiet after Nika took a couple of deep breaths. Nika finally turned around and showed her damp face. her eyebrows furrowed when she saw that I had been crying too. "why are you crying? what do you have to be crying about?" she pointed her finger at my chest, gently bumping me back. I took a breath, stumbling over my air while wiping tears from my cheeks as fast as I could. I tried to keep it together and not sob out of frustration. "it's not anyone Nika I promise." I practically pleaded between words.

"then why won't you tell me!?" her hands flung through the air drastically.

"Please you gotta trust me, baby." I dipped my head into my palms.

"how am I supposed to trust you when you can't even tell me who you're calling babe?"

"It's just a nickname," I whispered under my breath.

"Jesus Christ." her hands were tangled in her hair as she paced around the room.

"I'm sorry" I croaked out between hidden sobs.

I felt weak.

"do you realize that I love you? more than anything in the world and if you do too you need to fucking show it!" she said with her back faced to me.

I held onto that. She loved me more than anything in the world. and I loved her more than myself.

"I-" I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off.

"no. You can explain to me once you actually know how to"

Nika walked out of the door and to her car. I knew where she was going. she drove all the way back to campus to see Paige. it's where she always went when she was upset. So there I was sitting on the edge of our bed. crying to pass the time that was only filled with hope for her coming back through the door and giving me time to explain. I slowly moved to the floor and sat against the wall instead. My knees curled up to my chest. my jeans soaked up all the tears that came out of my eyes. I held onto my shins and sobbed for the rest of the night. it was only at around 3 am that I decided to get up and change something. I brushed through my hair and changed into sweatpants and a cropped tank top. I changed from my slippers into tennis shoes before leaving the apartment and walking to campus. it took me thirty minutes to get there and about ten minutes to get the balls to knock on Paige's door. the door swung open to reveal Paige staring at me. blanker than usual. she was obviously mad and that made me feel even worse. "uh- can I come in?" I know Paige loved me and Nika together and separately so she let me in and sat herself on her couch. "she's in my room." she spit out blandly while motioning her hand behind her head.

"did you walk here?" Paige questioned while shoving leftovers in her mouth.

"yes," I said while walking down to where Nika was. the door was cracked open enough for me to see her lying on Paige's bed. no covers and not a pillow. just flat sheets. I hesitated with my hand hovering over the door knob before creaking open the door. Nika was asleep, which I was part thankful and sad about. She used to say that it was almost impossible to sleep without me. I could tell that she wasn't completely out though. I can always tell now from the number of times I've walked in on her sitting up waiting for me to come back from the bathroom. She would always have a goofy smile on her lips once I called her out for fake sleeping. I chose to lean against the wall after closing the door instead of sitting on the edge of Paige's bed like how I wanted to. I watched Nika's chest rise and fall with every melancholy breath she took in her sleep. A million things went through my head questioning what she could be thinking about. A small hair fell down the side of her face and I took no time to reach and move it back behind her ear. I guess she's a light sleeper without me. she blinked her eyes open and I wanted to cover my face. her eyes were locked with mine for half a second before she looked down at the pale purple sheets she was lying on. we sat in silence for what felt like forever until I spoke.

"it was my best friend. the girl in my contacts." I explained, waiting for Nika to even look at me.

"We have this inside joke where we call each other babe and it was brought up the night before so I thought it would be funny to change her contact to that but I'm now realizing that it was a bad thing to do while in a relationship and I'm so so sorry, I don't want to lose you and I feel like I just did you're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I don't know what I'd do without you-" my words began to trail off before Nika stood up and held her finger to my lips.

"stop." her hand rested on my hip while she stared into my eyes for the first time in 2 hours. I got caught in her eyes. her touch and her breath and everything else. she sighed and looked at the floor then back up to me.

"It's okay," she whispered while wiping the few tears that fell down my face without me noticing. she pressed her forehead against mine while moving her hands to the small of my back. a shiver ran up my spine when I felt her touch on my uncovered skin.

"I love you, Nika. so much more than you think. I'm so" my voice began to break "I'm scared that something will go wrong. that's the only thing that has ever happened to me. I get in an argument and then it's over. if that happened between us, I- I don't know what I'd do." Nika nodded along while I spoke.

"I am never. ever. going to pull that kind of shit on you beba."

Nika's accent calmed me. her words seemed to flow more when her accent was present.

I wrapped my arms around Nika's body pulling her in tightly. I pulled away to see her staring in absolute awe. her hands ran over my hair, slowly twirling strands between her fingers like how I used to.

[wosoimagines]

Second Chance

part 2 of rivals

Jo's second camp with the team is nearly over and she gets news of her future.

2,367 words

previous part| |next part

“Hi, kid.”

I grinned at the familiar voice as I closed the door behind me.

“Hey, Becky.”

The woman smiled at me as I threw my bag onto the open bed. I hadn’t exactly expected Jill to room me with Becky again, but it was nice. Becky had helped to make sure that I actually got to bed at a responsible time and that I wasn’t late to any meetings or practices. After all, it had been quite easy for me to get distracted by everything else.

“Did you get to go to the lake?”

“Yeah, we went for a couple of days,” I admitted.

Becky nodded at that before she turned back to the book that she was reading. I tilted my head as I read the title.

“ The Portrait of Dorian Gray ,” I read off the spin. Becky looked up at me with a raised eyebrow. “I’ve never read it.”

“I could read it out loud, if you’d like.”

I smiled at Becky as I nodded. Becky looked back down at the book as I kicked my shoes off. 

“‘I have always been my own master; had at least always been so, till I met Dorian Gray. Then--but I don't know how to explain it to you. Something seemed to tell me that I was on the verge of a terrible crisis in my life. I had a strange feeling that Fate had in store for me exquisite joys and exquisite sorrows. I grew afraid, and turned to quit the room. It was not conscience that made me do so: it was a sort of cowardice. I take no credit to myself for trying to escape.’”

I grinned as Becky read the words on the pages. I knew that we had at least an hour, if not two, until our meeting started since they were still waiting on quite a few players to get into the hotel. I didn’t give Becky time to start the next paragraph as I crawled into her bed before ducking my head under her left arm so I could look at the pages. Becky stayed silent for a moment as I got comfortable.

It wasn’t until I had settled down and stopped moving that Becky continued.

“‘Conscience and cowardice are really the same things, Basil. Conscience is the trade name of the firm. That is all.’

‘I don't believe that, Harry, and I don't believe you do either. However, whatever was my motive--and it may have been pride, for I used to be very proud--I certainly struggled to the door. There, of course, I stumbled against Lady Brandon. 'You are not going to run away so soon, Mr. Hallward?' she screamed out. You know her curiously shrill voice?’”

Becky’s voice was definitely one of the most soothing voices I had ever heard. Maybe she could become a professional audiobook reader or something like that once she retired from playing. Or even just take it up during the off-season. I wouldn’t mind listening to Becky read me more books if her voice was always this soothing.

“‘Yes; she is a peacock in everything but beauty,’ said Lord Henry, pulling the daisy to bits with his long, nervous fingers.

‘I could not get rid of her. She brought me up to Royalties, and people with Stars and Garters, and elderly ladies with gigantic tiaras and parrot noses. She spoke of me as her dearest friend. I had only met her once before, but she took it into her head to lionize me. I believe some picture of mine had made a great success at the time, at least had been chattered about in the penny newspapers, which is the nineteenth-century standard of immortality. Suddenly I found myself face to face with the young man whose personality had so strangely stirred me. We were quite close, almost touching. Our eyes met again. It was reckless of me, but I asked Lady Brandon to introduce me to him. Perhaps it was not so reckless, after all. It was simply inevitable. We would have spoken to each other without any introduction. I am sure of that. Dorian told me so afterwards. He, too, felt that we were destined to know each other.’”

I couldn’t find it in myself to fight off the sleep as Becky’s voice lulled me into darkness.

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

“Hey, pipsqueak.”

I looked at Hope who had sat down across from me. I titled my head at her sudden presence. I knew that she often sat at the table with Carli and Christie during our meals. But they were both seated at a table that was behind Hope.

“Hi, Hope.”

I looked over my shoulder where most of the team was still getting their food. Being small did come with advantages, such as being small enough to get around everyone so I could be one of the first to get my food. I spotted Becky and Alyssa who were just now grabbing their own plates to fill them up. I turned back to look at Hope.

“Look, I just came to say that maybe you aren’t that bad.”

I raised my eyebrows at that. Hope complimenting me had been the last thing I was expecting. After all, we still weren’t getting along that well. It seemed like we both tolerated each other just enough for a fight not to break out during practice, but that didn’t stop the two of us from exchanging words during practice.

“I mean, don’t get me wrong,” Hope said as she kept her eyes trained on her plate as she stabbed some of the food with her fork. “You still aren’t better than I am. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t helping us out.”

I stayed silent, causing Hope to look up at me. She just stared back at me. I was trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke or something.

“Who are you and what have you done with Hope Solo?”

Hope chuckled at that as she nodded.

“That’s cute, pipsqueak.”

“No seriously. Hope Solo would never compliment me. We go at each other’s throats,” I said as I shook my head. I turned my attention back to my plate. Hope had to be seriously sick if she was being nice to me all of a sudden. “Mine and Hope’s relationship does not consist of us being nice to each other. We’re like sweet potatoes and mustard. They don’t go together. I don’t give a shit what Mick says either. He’s a weirdo for eating sweet potatoes and mustard.”

“No, I’m serious, Jo,” Hope said. I paused at that before I looked up at Hope. “Can you just take the compliment?”

I shook my head. I really couldn’t.

At least not from Hope.

This was too weird. Hope wasn’t supposed to be nice to me. She wasn’t supposed to compliment me.

“Is everything okay over here?”

Hope and I both looked at Becky who took a seat next to me. I sent Becky a small smile before I turned back to Hope. I slowly nodded my head as I realized just what this was about.

“You’re being nice 'cause I saved your ass in the goal.”

“Jo! Language!”

I rolled my eyes at that. I already had a mom at home, I didn’t need Becky deciding to mother me while I was at camp too.

“No.”

“You said that way too fast for it to be true! This is about me saving you in the goal.” I grinned as I glanced at Alyssa who sat next to Becky. So it wasn’t because Hope actually wanted to get to know me. “You just feel bad that you tried acting all tough and like you could stop me and then you couldn’t back it up and I had to save the game against France so we didn’t draw again.”

“I don’t need help in the goal, pipsqueak .”

“Sure you don’t.”

It felt good knowing that Hope had felt bad after I saved her skin.

“You could have just said thank you.”

“Jo,” Becky said. I looked over at her as I raised my eyebrows. I wasn’t too sure why she really cared what happened between Hope and me. “Just take the compliment.”

“But she’s only saying it because I made the stop on the goal line.”

“Jo. Take the compliment.”

My jaw slacked a bit at that. I couldn’t believe that Becky was actually taking Hope’s side.

“Thank you for the compliment,” I said once I eventually turned back to Hope. The goalie smirked at me as she stood up. I rolled my eyes as I lowered my voice. “Good thing you’re good at soccer. Cause the porch light’s on, but there ain’t no one home.”

It wasn’t until Hope was well out of earshot that I felt the hand connect with the back of my head.

“Ow!”

“You’re lucky she didn’t hear that comment,” Becky hissed quietly. I slumped back against my chair at that. I really wasn’t in the mood for another lecture. “I get it. You don’t get along with Hope and you might never get along with Hope, but she’s our goalie. You are going to have to stop trying to provoke her.”

“She doesn’t treat me fairly. Why should I be the one to have to extend the olive branch?” I asked as I leaned forward to get closer to Becky. “She’s the adult. I’m only fifteen.”

“Jo-”

“No, it’s bullshit.”

“Langauge.”

“And I don’t need another mom. I already have one.”

Becky sighed as she leaned back in her own chair. I looked away from her. 

“What if I talk to Hope?”

Becky and I both looked over at Alyssa. I had honestly forgotten that she was sitting at the table with us because of how quiet she had been. It was something that Becky told me I would have to get used to though. 

“As if that would make it any better.”

“That would be great. Thank you, Alyssa.”

I huffed as I pushed myself away from the table. I had already finished my plate and if it gave me an excuse to be away from Alyssa and Becky right now, I would take it. I didn’t need everyone else fighting my battles for me. It was part of the problem. If everyone else fought my battles for me then no one would ever take me seriously.

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

“So, I heard that you and Hope got into it,” Jill said as I was wrapping my hand. I sighed as I looked up at her. “Is there a problem that I, as the coach, need to address between you two?”

“No.”

Jill nodded her head slowly as she still looked down at me as I finished wrapping my hand. I rubbed the bridge of my nose before looking back up at her.

“Is there anything else?”

“I really hoped that you and Hope would have gotten over this by now,” Jill said. I softly groaned as my shoulders slumped forward. “I’ll be honest with you, kid. I want to call you up for the August game and September-”

“I get it,” I assured her. I glanced at where the rest of the team was getting ready. Even though I had been friendly enough with Alyssa and Becky, the rest still seemed hesitant to get close to me. “Who wants a kid on their team when they’re the best in the world?”

“Jolene, that isn’t it.”

“Isn’t it?”

I looked away from Jill and down at my shoes. I knew that it was. It wasn’t the first time I had been left behind because I was the youngest one, and I doubted that it would be the last.

“Jo, you’re gonna be called to the U-20 team in just days,” Jill said as she bent down so that we were equal in height. “I encouraged them to do so. I think it would be a great opportunity.”

I looked back over to the rest of the team. But my eyes zeroed in on Hope. I knew what she would say when she found out that I wouldn’t be called to the team in August or September.

“The U-20 World Cup will be over before August. So what’s the point in keeping me out of the September camp?”

Hope would only boost and brag if I was gone longer than I needed to be. Plus, I didn’t want to lose the pace of play that came with the national team if I was gone for too long.

“Because you’re only fifteen, Jo. You will have to go to school and finish your education,” Jill said. I looked back at her. I didn’t care about that, I just cared about my future in soccer. “If your grades suffer too much, then I can’t call you up. You will be gone until late August if you guys make it to the finals.”

“So why have me go to the U-20 team instead of getting more practice with the senior team?”

“Because the U-20 team is going to a World Cup. It might not be the World Cup you were hoping for, but it will give you a taste of what it will be like next year,” Jill said as she sighed. I wondered if she would ever get tired of me and all my questions. “You’ll be expected to be a leader on the U-20 team as you’ve already been called up to the senior team. That will also be a good experience for you. I don’t expect that you’ll be seen as a leader on this team for years, maybe not until I’m gone even, but it will happen eventually, and leading a team at a World Cup, even a youth one, will be good for you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Jill sighed as she patted my leg before standing up. If I had to prove myself to Jill at the youth level again, I was going to do it. Nothing would stop me from winning gold in August. Maybe then, the rest of the team would also start to see me as more than just some kid.

[cripplecharacters]

Do you have any tips (or previous posts) about how to write a young person who’s first-time cane user? This one is for a character who escapes a lifetime of being experimented on, and learns in the aftermath of being rescued that this rather compromised her ability to walk well again. I’ve written characters with other mobility devices for getting around. But never canes. I myself am physically disabled but have never needed anything like these before. I’m always eager to learn.

Hi!

If your character is a first time cane user, here's some things that could happen:

She will need to learn how to walk with the cane first. When you're starting, it's easy to mess up (though it could be my dyspraxia speaking) and overfocus on how you should walk because you're just getting used to it. She could randomly stop and correct her gait, or look down a lot to check if she's still doing the motion (left arm and right leg forward, or the other way around).

She's probably gonna drop that thing a lot. Especially if she has a weaker grip in the cane hand - now, I don't have this problem (the opposite, rather) - but the overall thing is a really common occurrence for most of us. Walking and hit the smallest pebble imaginable? Cane on the ground, somehow. Tried putting it against the wall or table? It's on the ground. And then you need to reach for it... it's a struggle sometimes.

If she's not helped in picking the cane, she will spend some time figuring out what grip and height are comfortable for her. (Grip depends on personal preference, no one's preference has ever been the doorknob handle, height is generally to the person's wrist from the ground up.) I think that this could be an interesting opportunity to talk about disabled communities - maybe she's frustrated with the process and goes to an older (more experienced) cane user to help her?

If it's during the winter, her hand is gonna be freezing - and the opposite in the summer - and she might not be prepared for it. The handle can get HOT and it can be an issue. Depending on what her actual disability is, she might try switching which hand to hold it in. If she's able to do that, another character could warm up her cold hand :)

The first couple of times walking with a cane are an Experience. You feel way better, but also everyone is suddenly staring. Some people care about that, some don't. But it can be somewhat overwhelming either way.

Spatial awareness is gonna suck at first. She will bump into what feels like everything with the cane. Especially doorframes. It's always doorframes for some reason. Or mess up and have her cane slip down because she hasn't realized how close to the curb she was.

She will hit her shin. It will hurt.

She's probably going to be speedy with that thing! Getting a cane is like getting a speed boost. Without it, I have episodes where I'm extremely slow (my highest, extreme-pain speed would be slower than a person walking very casually) and with it, I'm faster than a lot of able-bodied people! It's fun and she would have fun with it.

She will not know what to do with the cane when she doesn't need it. For me, using backpacks always cause issues because I don't know how to hold it without dropping it, but I also need to swap hands, something gets stuck on the handle... it's a whole process that takes a comical amount of time at first. Same when going to the public bathroom, where are you putting it when you aren't using it...? It's a lot of trial and error and a lot of "eww, my cane just touched the dirtiest surface humanly imaginable".

In the real world, people are (overly) interested in young cane user's business and tend to stare a lot. Now, it doesn't have to be like this in your story, but it's often just an annoying part of life. Your character might feel awkward and feel like she needs to explain herself, but this goes away after some time. You just get desensitized after a while.

In the real world, people are sometimes interested and nice about it! For example, a lot of older people can be insecure about using a cane, exactly like younger people. I've heard stories about older people asking younger users where they got their cane from, how are they so confident with it, etc. Another opportunity for a disabled community moment!

I hope that my suggestions were helpful, it's been a while since I was a first-time cane user so I wrote down what I still remember, haha.

Mod Sasza

Hi!

I agree with Sasza on pretty much every point and wanted to add some things from my own experience.

It's really, really hard to hold both a cane and an umbrella at the same time. Sometimes I'll give up and get wet. Sometimes I'll give up and store the cane. She might do either of those, depending on what she hates more: being wet or walking without the cane. Or she could get a raincoat if that works for her.

Speaking of umbrellas, sometimes you need your umbrella and you need your cane and you also need a free hand. This Sucks. What I do for this sometimes (and maybe she or other people have better, smarter, more useful solutions than this) is shove my umbrella into my shirt or backpack strap or something, so the umbrella is Held Up by it. This is not very effective, and will not last long. But if I need to look up a map on my phone or adjust something on my clothes or get my keys, it can work. Sort of.

Just like mod Sasza said, people will take interest in your cane, younger and older alike. I've had people of all ages compliment my cane (it has flowers) as well as people of all ages tell me I'm too young to need a cane or ask what's wrong with me. An older woman once asked me where I got my cane as she had been wanting a 'pretty' one, and that was a nice moment.

She might develop a new awareness of mobility aid users. When you're new at using one and trying to figure it out, you're probably going to be frustrated, because it's a new skill like any other. But it might make her (like it made me) notice more people using canes. It's not that I never saw them before, but that they were more common than I ever thought, and I never would have noticed how common it was if I hadn't had to slow down and practice my skill.

Cane tips get dirty, and cane tips wear out. These both depend on where your character is using her cane (outdoors vs indoors, scratchy asphalt vs smooth wood) as well as how often. A cane with a worn-out rubber tip really sucks and is more unstable and if the cane is made of aluminum and the tip is worn out and you hit the cane the wrong way, you can damage the cane. Ask me how I know.

That's all I can think of right now that I had to learn to deal with when I started! As you can see I still don't have a solution to the rain thing and it's been like two and a half years...

- mod Sparrow

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for doing "an eye for an eye"?

So my family has a history of depression, mostly myself, my sister and my mother. My father is not very knowledgable of mental heath and is the type that has explained that he would never have a panic attack or be depressed because he would just "think about something else", however, my mother has had depression on and off since I was 14 (I'm 30 now) and my sister's depression is just as bad. I had depression for quite a while, it got dangerously bad and I recovered and have the skills to moderate it.

However, these skills were solely developed by me, my parents didn't believe in therapy when I was depressed (my mother has one now) and when they finally got me a therapist, they kept dragging me to different therapists until they found one that wouldn't blame them for any part of my struggle, which then I stopped going because... Yeah.

This is only the beginning, my parents would mock my sister for her weight gain, would invite visitors into our room to mock how messy it was, and throw insults at us ("you need to brush your teeth" "you need to shower, you stink") in front of others. I want to make this clear, they didn't assist at all with my recovery. That was a miracle I'm amazed I achieved.

However, within the last three years my mother's depression has gotten bad. She won't sleep in the bedroom, she won't shower, and everyone serves her hand and foot, especially my sibling. She has started doing vile things that have caused us having arguments (like leaving bloody and other stained toilet paper on the floor) and just dropping dirty bowls by her seat on the couch. I argue with her to do basic cleaning (maybe even less) and keep having to ask my father to get her to shower.

Everytime her and I argue she says "I know, I'm a burden" or something similar, which I don't respond to because it feels more quilting than a actual feeling she's having, especially since nothing changes.

My father has been understanding, however he is starting to tell me to "go easy on her", I told him neither of them were easy on my sibling and I when we were depressed, and its unfair to suddenly need to be nice to her when she's depressed.

My father says I'm being petty, but I don't feel like I should be nice to someone in their time of need that was horrible in mine. AITA?

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Prompts 8 and 14 with Poly lost boys? (If not Poly, I’ll be good with any of them-)

8. Quiet, she has just fallen asleep!

14. Are you alright?

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you like this!💜

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

The house was quiet. Maria had gone off to work at the videostore, and Shelly had gone out to meet with her boyfriend Greg. Normally, I would have put some music on, doing some chores or making some art now that they were gone. But not today. I woke up feeling off. I had hoped that after some breakfast and some coffee, it would be over, but alas, it only got worse. So that's why I found myself lying on the couch, with the remote control of the telly in my hand. I still hadn't put it on, knowing that the sound - no matter how soft it could be - would only worsen the headache I had.

I closed my eyes as I felt another pang of pain flashing through my head. The headache had been there all day, but now it was slowly but surely turning into a splitting headache. I knew I couldn't ignore it any longer and made my way to the kitchen. Somewhere, in one of the cabinets, I was certain I'd have a package with aspirin. I sighed as I entered the kitchen, seeing the dirty dishes piling out of the sink. The remains of our lunch were lying on the kitchen island. It was a mess. Normally, I wouldn't mind cleaning it up, but now, the thought alone made me want to cry. God, I felt sick.

I opened the cupboard, realising that the package I had had been used up by my housemates. The only thing left of it was the empty box. I sighed as I threw it in the bin, deciding that I'd have to go to the drugstore. I got dressed in some comfortable yet more appropriate clothing - I didn't want to go outside in my pyjamas - and put my shoes on. After locating my keys on the dining room table, I headed outside - only to return to put a jacket on. It was surprisingly cold outside.

As I walked down the street, I was a little relieved to realise that the sun was setting already. It meant that my boyfriends would be going to the boardwalk soon. As much as the idea of being in a brightly lit, loud space didn't appeal to me, the idea of being with them and near them did.

The door to the drugstore opened with a soft tinkle as I pushed it open, the bell above the door signalling my presence. It was quiet inside, the only other customer an old lady. I greeted her quietly before searching the aisles for what I needed. I didn't pay attention when I heard the bell ring, nor did I pay attention to the space around me. So, when I found the brand I needed, and made a move to grab it, I bumped into someone.

"Oh my god, I'm so-"

"Shit, you look like shit babe!" I looked up and saw that I had bumped into Marko. I gave him a watery smile.

"I kind of feel like it, I think it hay-fever or something."

Marko nodded, his hand resting on my forehead to check my temperature. "I think it's a bit more than that."

"Fever?"

"Yeah, a bit. Come on," he took the medicine I wanted and walked towards the checkout. "You're staying with us tonight."

"Weren't you going to the boardwalk?"

"You're more important. Santa Carla won't forget who owns the place if we don't show up one night."

I nodded, taking a deep breath. It was suddenly really warm inside. "What were you doing here?"

"Paul's been complaining about a lack of liquorice in the cave."

"He really likes that stuff?"

"Apparently. We can't all be perfect," he paid for the liquorice and the aspirin, also asking for a bottle of water. He grabbed our stuff, opening the door for me. Once we were outside, I stopped walking for a moment, taking some deep breaths.

"Are you alright?"

I shook my head slightly. " 'm feeling a little faint."

"Go and sit down, alright?" He handed me the bottle of water and the aspirin. "Have you eaten today?"

I shrugged as I took a sip. "Wasn't hungry."

"You actually got the liquorice!" I looked up as I saw Paul appearing out of thin air in front of me. "And you got our gir- Jesus, you look like shit."

I nodded, feeling a little less faint than before. I heard the loud rumble of motorcycles, and I knew that Dwayne and David were also here now. I looked up, smiling tiredly as David walked towards me.

"Hey."

"Hey darlin'," he helped me stand up, looking me over as I did. I felt myself tremble a little. Maybe Marko was right, and this was more than allergies. "Let's get you home. Do you think you can hold on?"

I nodded, climbing on the back of his bike, and holding on to him tightly.

"We need some food, see if there's a store open so you can get her some fruit and bread and such."

"Sure thing. Is there anything you'd like?" Paul looked at me, and I shook my head. He nodded, kissing me softly on my forehead before driving off. Marko handed Dwayne the stuff we'd just bought, saying he'd be home shortly. He had to feed. Dwayne drove next to us, both David and him driving slower than usual. I was glad they did, mainly because their usual driving style was close to nauseating. Besides, with them driving slower, the chances of me gliding off were slimmer. I closed my eyes for a bit, a sudden tiredness overwhelming me.

"Don't fall asleep, love."

" 'm not." I mumbled, holding on a little tighter.

"We're almost home, then you can sleep all you want."

Dwayne was true to his word. Less than five minutes later, we stopped at the edge of the cliff leading towards the cave. Without a word, Dwayne lifted me up, carrying me in his arms down the stairs and into the lobby of the sunken hotel.

"Couch or bed?"

"Couch," I said softly, trying to stiffle a yawn, "Don't want to be alone."

"Alright, love."

He carefully laid me down on the couch, taking some pillows from Star's bed to make sure I was comfortable. David brought me the blanket I normally used while staying here, a thick and soft fabric covering the whole thing. I mumbled a soft thank you.

"How long have you been feeling sick?" David asked, crouching down next to me, brushing some hair out of my face.

"Since this morning."

"It's probably just a cold or a flu. Is the aspirin helping?"

"A little, I guess?"

He gave me a soft smile, getting up. I closed my eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness before sleep finally came.

I don't know how much time passed before I woke up, but when I did, I could hear an annoyed Dwayne hiss something at Paul and Marko.

"Quiet, she has just fallen asleep!"

"Ah shit, sorry, babe!" Paul whisper yelled at me, causing me to sleepily open my eyes.

" 's okay," I nodded, looking at them.

"I know you said you didn't want anything from the store, but I also brought you some cookies and chocolate."

I smiled tiredly, wincing as I felt my headache return. "Thank you, hon."

"If you're not feeling better tomorrow, we could give you some blood to speed up the healing process?" Marko offered. I bit my lip, not knowing whether I'd like that or not. I did feel sick, but to drink blood? "Just think about it, alright?"

"Yeah."

He smiled before looking outside. The sky was turning a bright red. He went to the back of the cave, climbing through the liftshaft. Dwayne and Paul followed. I pulled my blanket closer against me, curling up, when I felt a pair of arms lifting me up.

"Hm?"

"We're staying with you today, sweetheart."

" 's nice," I mumbled sleepily, already dosing off as he brought me to the bedroom. I was asleep before I even hit the pillow, my boys surrounding me, making sure I'd be okay.

[fluideli123]

Sonadow Fic Rec

Okay, before you jump down to the masterpieces listed below, I just wanted to state this:

These authors have given this phenomenal content for free, baked with time and effort. I have never once ignored this, hence why I try and comment on each and every one of these fics. However, my energy and ability to be verbose differs day to day. Some of these fics I have not given proper comments for, despite this, I will be on it the moment I can be. In the time being, (once I am able to find my comments on each of these fics) I will be sharing my adoration for them further in other posts (and most likely link back to this one).

With that being said, please, PLEASE take your time to check each of these fics out. If they're not your cup of tea? Valid! But hands down I have never dedicated myself to making a fic rec like this until now. But I MUST share and spread these works, they are much too dear to me not to, and I mean that from the bottom of my heart.

(All fics are listed by order saved in my bookmarks, not in the order read)

tangled threads and bite-marked shoulders by @rubyiiiusions

Words: 32,287 | Series | Complete

Shadow hissed in pain. The laser had just grazed him, but it still stung, and he instinctively gripped the wound it left on his arm. “You dare-” He stopped. The laser hadn’t hit him. In fact, it had struck Sonic, right on his lower left arm. So why did his forearm feel like it just got shot? He whipped around, fear climbing up his throat, and he suddenly became hyper-aware of something new. It was like a sixth sense, feeling the confusion that emitted from Sonic’s fur in waves as if it was his own. “What did you do?!” Shadow snarled. or, eggman accidentally soulbinds shadow and sonic, and no one has any idea how to undo it.

Sleepwalking by Tirainy

Words: 22,117 | Complete

'There is a strong arm curled around his torso, the appendage keeping him close to its owner, whose warm breath is ghosting over the back of his neck. Sonic is sure he went to bed alone the previous night, but he isn't worried about the intruder. After all, this isn't the first time this has happened…'

Secret Admirer by @trenchcoat-gecko

Words: 24,313 | Complete

Sonic understood well what it meant to be loved. He was a world-famous hero, after all; his presence never went unnoticed. For the most part, he lavished in that attention, he soaked it in and encouraged it. But not romantic attention. So, when the blue blur found himself falling in love? Well, the prospect was rather daunting, no matter how easy Amy had made it out to be. So maybe, just maybe, he should just take the easy way out...

Rose Drops Series by @magicstormfrostfire

Words: 122,489 | Series | Complete

Love, Intuition, and a little bit of magic ensues as Amy sends Sonic and Shadow on an unforgettable adventure.

Wolfboy by @trenchcoat-gecko

Words: 73,856 | Complete

World-famous monster hunter Shadow the Hedgehog has a job to do. It doesn't take long for the one-shot wonder to realize that this job won't be as simple as he'd expected: a small town, rumors of a lone werewolf, and a handsome, green-eyed, chronically-injured casanova who manages to worm his way into Shadow's heart... What starts off as a simple job turns out to be something much more life-changing.

Blizzard Bedfellows by @magicstormfrostfire

Words: 21,294 | Complete

When a rare blizzard takes over the island, Sonic is on the run to make sure a certain angry loner is safe and sound. Y-you know, because...uh that's what heroes do.

We never met but can we have a cup of coffee or something? by @whitejungle

Words: 3,630 | Complete

It's been almost two months since Sonic lost someone he didn't even know, but he can't stop thinking about it.

Clean Slate by nottheweirdest

Words: 155,880 | Complete | Note: Squeal pending and I am cheering you on author!! Whatever you decide I am excited to support you!!

Shadow has lost himself before. He knows what it's like to straddle the line between reality and false memories, but this time, it’s Sonic whose memory has vanished. A premeditated set of circumstances and an accidental injury leave Sonic with no memory of who he is, his life, or more importantly, his painful history with Shadow. It’s up to Shadow to remind the hero who he is in the midst of a global outbreak. It’s a chance for redemption. It’s a chance to right the wrongs of the past. It’s a clean slate.

say i reckon (i love you, for a millisecond) by @redamancering

Words: 30,205 | Complete

There’s a hand on his shoulder, barely making contact. A red gauntlet glows around the wrist. Sonic blinks, the pain having evaporated so fast he feels almost weightless. “Shadow?” Shadow’s breathing heavily. “Problem.” The retrieval of the ancient tech Shadow (and Sonic, in tow) has been sent to uncover takes a turn for the worst. In this case, the “worst” means… becoming physically and inextricably linked to each other. For the foreseeable future. OR: Metaphysical handcuffs, and general gay buffoonery.

Judge my sins, not my feelings by yellothebeeloved

Words: 228,479 | Complete | Note: Possible one-shots pending from the author for the series, I am here to support you author!! What ever you decide I'm here for it!

Maybe he's not meant to touch. It's the newest excuse he thought of in hopes that he could prolong the game a little more; a careful ruse to enjoy the bittersweet torture of seeing the days pass them by, while he pretends he doesn't seek azure blue whenever he's restless. At first, all he wanted to do was watch: but now the desire to touch, to have, to affect is at a point where he's not sure whether reaching for Sonic would truly be fruitless. He wonders that especially when Sonic's eyes light up upon seeing him. When he corners Shadow, when he invades his space and he touches and takes and then excuses it by calling it a fight. Shadow truly wonders then: if only he was brave enough to reach out, what would his grip find? Loose stars or a battle-worn body? Standing up, he glances at Sonic again, whose eyes have now met his own. There's something heavy in the eye contact, something Shadow doesn't dare name. Neither of them say anything, and yet Sonic's eyes move away from him again, like they did. Shadow warps away, hiding from the stars once more.

Child of Prophecy by @trenchcoat-gecko

Words: 139,321 | Completed

On the night the Mobius Castle was ransacked, the Queen received a prophecy. “One of three will not cry; send him down the river, for you can only save your kingdom if he does not grow up royal.”

Coming Home by nottheweirdest

Words: 55,740 | Completed

Shadow's life has been full of mistakes, some worse than others, but admitting his unrequited feelings to Sonic tops the list. He's spent the better part of a decade ruminating on his regret and hiding from feelings he couldn't bear to face. He never thought he'd see Sonic again, and he told himself that was for the best. Until now. At the bequest of his former rival, and in an attempt to finally get closure, Shadow has returned to Central City. The reason? Sonic the Hedgehog is marrying Amy Rose. And Shadow is invited.

[maxcuntstappen]

alex/ george + dnf

It's something that makes Alex happy most of the time; George still having full access to Williams' garage and hospitality. He likes that it isn't a big deal when George shows up to have lunch with Alex cause Williams' catering that day is better. He likes that he can bring up rumours and stories he's heard and doesn't have to give a background on the people involved. Can just say, "Remember Martin? You won't believe what he's done now".

He likes that he's accessible to George, that his space is accessible to him. That they share this.

Most of the time.

But today? Today it annoys him.

Alex is lying face first on his massage table, nose painfully pressing against the the surface, drowning in a vat of self-hate, when he hears his driver's room door open.

Barely opening one of his eyes, he sees a pair of black, rather large in size racing shoes looking back.

"Have you ever heard of knocking?" Alex snarks, or at least, he tries to. It comes out all muffled and weak.

George is quiet. Not biting back or responding in any way.

Which says more than enough about their situation.

He is pitying Alex. Because Alex fucking lost the car and flew into the barriers. On a simple corner. With no distractions or debris.

Just himself to blame.

Suddenly, there's a hand running down the length of his back.

Alex doesn't know whether he wants to flinch away or melt into the touch instead.

So he does neither; just remains stock still. Like George's touch isn't affecting him. Like it doesn't make something come loose in his chest. Something that's directly connected to the tear ducts in his eyes.

Finally, George speaks.

"These things happen sometimes."

Alex wishes he hadn't opened his big, dumb mouth at all.

Because, no, these things don't happen sometimes. Not if you're focused and on it and careful. Not if you're good.

When was the last time Max put it into the wall of his own accord? When was it for Lewis?

People who want to win world championships don't do this.

And sure, Alex knows he isn't about to win a WDC with Williams.

But that doesn't mean there aren't other eyes watching. That there aren't other opportunities that could reveal themselves if Alex is good enough.

DNF'ing in a race because he lost control of a car due to some goddamn headwind is definitely not making anyone think he's good enough.

"Albono," George begins, voice too soft, making Alex's chest ache, "I..."

George trails off.

Alex knows that he said that he wishes George hadn't spoken at all.

But somehow it's worse when George Russell, out of all people, is left speechless. When even he cannot come up with words of placation or kindness.

George always knows what to say.

Maybe he sees it as it is too; Alex fucking up, showing that, if he belongs in any team in F1 at all, it's meant to be a back-marker one.

Alex doesn't realise his shoulders are shaking and that he's sniffling till George shushes him, longer fingers combing through Alex's hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

"How can I help?" George asks, voice just above a whisper.

Turn back time so I can stop myself from binning the car.

Or to when I was in Red Bull, so that I can try to do things better this time.

Or to when we were in karting, so I can tell younger Alex that the journey is going to be harder than he can ever realise. And it might not be worth it, in the end.

That there will be more days of pain than joy and that there's other things he can still be good at if he only tries.

Too much to ask, too much to reveal.

So all Alex does is shrug.

George sighs, hand stilling its movements on Alex's head.

Alex kinda wants to kick at him to get him going again.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?"

No, the voice in Alex's head answers, clear as day.

And he should say it out loud. George and him have been friends for long enough that he can ask for this. Knows that it's okay, that there's nothing to be embarrassed about it. That they've done this for each other before. And they'll be doing it for each other till the very end.

But it's too much to think about right now, the implications of asking George to stay, how what Alex means when he asks for it is different than what George means when he offers it.

How they have always, always been running parallel to each other, so close and so familiar but never intertwining, never touching, never crashing and morphing into something that Alex's heart has been desiring for longer than not.

Alex shrugs again, the lump in his throat only serving as a further reason for him to stay mum.

"Okay," George says, his hand pulling away from atop Alex's hand.

It's painful. More painful than it has any business being. Like a band-aid being ripped off, but with no relief of it being over. Because there's another band-aid to go. Then another. Then another.

He watches from the corner of his eye, George's black, rather large in size racing shoes walking away.

Alex closes his eyes, it's not a sight he wants to play over and over in his head through the day.

Suddenly, there's a thump, and George's hand has found its place on the back of Alex's neck.

Alex turns his face to press his cheek flat to the chair.

Opens his eyes and finds George's eyes already on him.

George, who has dragged a chair and placed it next to Alex.

George, who is smiling at him all soft and kind.

George, who is running his hand through Alex's hair again.

George who finally helps Alex exhale the breath he's been holding in ever since his tyres spun out from under him.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Twenty Eight}

Alastor x (Fem)Reader

Warning: Kidnapping, Violence (Vox hits reader), Threats Of Dismemberment/Torture (nothing actually happens tho)

A groan left me as the world finally came back into view, maybe a bit too fast, I shut my eyes tightly and tried to fight off the nausea I felt. I inhaled deeply a few times before slowly opening my eyes again.

I was somewhere I didn't recognize, it looked like a empty room. Nothing but a door ahead of me, and a small window on the wall to my right. It was the only thing lighting the room.

I tried to move, but was quickly stopped by a slight tug. I furrow my brows and look up, my arms had been raised above my head, and my wrists tied together by cuffs, held up by chains that were securely tied to the hooks in the ceiling.

I gasped sharply, it was muffled however, by the rag tied against my mouth. I tried my wings next, but the joints were cuffed as well, preventing me from flapping them.

My breathing became forced and erratic as panic finally set in fully. I tugged harshly at the chains, trying to free myself, but it was of no use.

My legs felt weak as well, I tried to move them, but they were about as useful as my arms, despite not being tied down.

What the fuck was happening!? Where was I!?

Suddenly the door to the room opened, and in walked a familiar looking overlord. "You awake?" He asked before flipping the light switch on. "Good...Now we can get to know each other." He approaches me and crouches to my level.

"I know we've met before. But I think we should start over, we're gonna be seeing a lot of each other from now on so..." He chuckles darkly.

"The name's Vox, nice to meet you."

"Aw, don't look so scared." Vox said with false pity. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Not yet anyway." He smirks. "I'm just gonna keep you here until your little boyfriend shows up. That asshole has been screwing around with me for too long. It's about time I put an end to that radio fucker, and you, are just what I need to do it."

I furrow my brows, I was worried of course and no doubt scared for my own safety. But now I was angry too.

"Wanna say something?" Vox tilts his head, he reaches for the rag at my mouth and pulls it down. "Go ahead then."

"You think just because you kidnapped me, that Alastor won't tear you apart?" I ask. "You underestimate him, if you believe that." Vox laughs at my words. "If he doesn't want you loosing a few limbs, he will come here and behave. If he doesn't, well, that'll be one thorn out of my side."

"Don't you dare hurt him. I don't care what happens to me, you can do whatever you want, but do not hurt Alastor." I say, tugging at the chains slightly.

"Oh, I don't need anything from you. Though, my associate might. I'm sure you've heard of him, and I'm sure you know how popular his films are." He could only mean Valentino. Oh god...I would rather die...

"You won't get away with this. Alastor will come here and rip you limb from limb. And telling from this kidnapping act, you like to play cheap. I bet that's why you're doing this. You can't match up to Alastor."

Vox delivered a harsh slap to my face after that. I failed to hold back a yelp as my head was forced to the side from the blow. I could feel the sharp sting blossoming in my cheek.

"Keep talking shit, and I won't be so forgiving next time." He stood up fully and looked out of the window. "I tried to get that dumbass hell hound to bring you here. But I guess he fucked off somewhere."

Hell hound? Did he mean Liam? Liam was in on this? I guess that would explain why he was at the hotel in the first place.

"Anyhow! I feel like we should start moving things along now. I'm sure he's noticed you're gone, so, how about we give him an idea of where you are. Speed things up, you know?"

"Let's see...maybe I could send him a finger or two? Or maybe one of those pretty eyes of yours?" He grins wickedly. I tried not to let my fear show, but it was clear by the shaking of my hands and shoulders. Vox's eyes trailed down. "That'll do."

I follow his gaze, my eyes falling upon my necklace. I gasp and try to move away as he reached down. "No! No, stay away!" I yelled. "Relax, will ya? I'm just taking the necklace. What? Did he give it to you? How cute." He says bitterly before grabbing at it. "No!" I cry just as he ripped it from my neck.

And just like that, my true form was revealed...

"What...the fuck!?" Vox exclaims.

If I wasn't panicked before, I definitely was now. My true form, my angel wings on display for Vox to witness. This wasn't good. This was the absolute last things I wanted to happen. What would he do to me now that knows? I couldn't look at him, I kept my eyes glued to the floor as I drew ragged breaths.

Vox then began to laugh.

"Fucking really!?" He cackles. "Well no wonder he likes you so much! You're an angel! Oh that's priceless!"

Vox's laughter died down slowly. He crouched back down and grabbed my chin, jerking my head up to face him. "You are both so fucked..."

"Alastor!" Mimzy shouts, before dodging a person being thrown her way. "Damn it Alastor! Calm down, you're making a mess of things!" She calls up at the now titanic sized radio demon. Tendrils grown from his back, were the cause of the randomly tossed objects and unfortunate demons in the way.

This had been going on for several minutes. He was beyond frantic, beyond worried. He wasn't thinking clearly, he was far too distraught for that.

"Don't you tell me to calm down!" Alastor yelled back. "Y/nis missing!"

"Well you're not gonna find her all worked up like this! Get down here and use your head!" Mimzy demanded. Alastor knew she was right, though it didn't make him any less frazzled. He did as she said however, and returned to his normal form.

Now it was just them in the empty longue. Alastor did feel a little bad about causing such a commotion in Mimzy's lounge, of all places. He let his anger and worry get the best of him, and it controlled his every movement. Blinded him from what was going on around him.

He was so upset by this...and he was scared...

"Where could she be?" Alastor's voice cracked slightly. "She wouldn't have just left on her own..." Mimzy didn't like seeing Alastor like this. She was worried too, but she knew it was nowhere near what he felt. "Isn't there any way of contacting her?" She asks.

"You know I don't own a cell phone. She doesn't either..."

Mimzy narrowed her eyes. "Isn't she from the modern era? Why doesn't she have a phone? You know what, never mind. Let's just stay calm and focus alright? Is there any place she might go to that you know of?"

"Other than the hotel, no." Alastor answers. "Alright, let's start there." Just as Mimzy said that, her phone rang. She looks at it then to Alastor. "Speak of the devil." She answers it. "Hello?"

'Hey, Mimzy? Is Alastor with you?' It was Charlie on the other end. The two had exchanged numbers the last time Mimzy had visited the hotel, to see Alastor.

"He is." Mimzy tells her.

'Well, a package showed up for him here at the hotel. It's pretty weird looking...We didn't want to mess with it. But I think it's from VoxTek, which is why it's weird. Alastor isn't really tech savvy you know?'

Mimzy hold the phone away from her to speak to Alastor. "It's Charlie, she says you have a package at the hotel, from VoxTek."

The loud screech of a record skipping made Mimzy wince. Before she could get a word in, Alastor had sunken into the shadows and disappeared. She sighs before speaking into the phone again.

"He's on his way. A word of advice, when he shows up...stay out of his way." Rage couldn't even begin to describe what Alastor felt the moment he opened that package. It was small, small enough to hold the necklace along with a few white feathers inside.

Vox knew...and now, Alastor wanted nothing more than to rip his soul apart, for even daring to lay his filthy hands on his beloved.

He should have known. Of course it was that bastard. Of course he would do something like this. Alastor swore right then and there, that he would invent a whole new form of pain, when he got his hands on that flat-faced motherfucker.

[pastafossa]

Charlie Cox experience at Philly Fan Expo 2023

So LET”S TALK ABOUT ME MEETING CHARLIE. I’m actually going to make two posts - this one just about my experiences with Charlie, because they were incredibly meaningful and deserve their own post, and then another one about the rest of the con!

I’m going to talk about Charlie first, because of how amazing the experience was, one of the best I’ve had, especially at the autograph table. I’ve done photos, gotten autographs and such before from other celebs - from niche voice actors I loved to people like David Tennant - but this felt Really Really Big. Obviously, I was nervous as all hell because holy shit Charlie Cox, my favorite actor whose work altered the course of my life. I won’t lie - I’d been practicing what to say to him in case I freaked out, but I’m happy to say that everyone who reassured me it would go great, because he was so, so genuine and kind, were right.

The photo op happened first (and thank you to everyone on tumblr guiding me where to go, cause I was LOST about where that was happening), and that went fast. By that point in the con hall, I’d already ditched my Jessica Jones jacket and gloves cause holy shit it’s hot and I am a creature of snow and ice, and my hair was a mess, but honestly I didn’t care, cause there he is. You don’t get long, but he made the most of it and he was SO sweet. Ya’ll, he asked my name, said my name as he shook my hand, and called me ‘my dear’ in that beautiful voice.

I was literally on the moon, but it was time for the big question:

Will he hold the red thread from TRT?

So in a quiet, nervous, soft author voice, I asked, ‘would you be ok with holding this end of the thread?’

HE FUCKING DID.

HE HELD IT.

HE HELD. THE. RED. THREAD.

I’m fairly certain he doesn’t know about the fic at this point - he wasn’t sure where to hold it until I told him, but he loved that it lit up! AND THEN HE PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME AND I GOT TO PUT MY ARM AROUND HIM BACK.

I’m fairly certain I’m dead in the photo. My soul had left my body. I had ascended. I saw Jesus and he looked like Charlie. I had achieved fic author heights never imagined. My brain filled with enough serotonin and dopamine to sink a ship. I didn’t care that I was hot and sweaty or that my hair was messy or that my cosplay didn’t work out like I’d planned. I had been blessed.

also look at that forearm holy shit

I floated outta that gd room ya’ll. I’m pretty sure @wonderlandmind4​ did the same. WE FROLICKED OUT OF THAT HALL LIKE

But things got even better at the autograph table, and I had one of the most touching experiences ever.

not me tearing up thinking about it.

That line was long, but I kept getting glimpses of him and I could already tell he was enjoying interacting with people, and he was making sure everyone got their bit of time with him instead of letting anyone rush people through. He was so happy looking, laughing and grinning, high fives and fist bumps for kids, chatting with fans. Which made me feel a little more confident.

I know some people wondered if I’d tell him about TRT, and I’d already decided I wasn’t going to. Instead, I really, really wanted just a second to tell him what his work as Daredevil had meant for me, as someone who became disabled around the same time Matt did as a kid, and who related to... a lot of what Matt went through in the show. I’d practiced it over and over again, and there was only a fifty percent chance I wouldn’t start crying while telling him, and I wasn’t even sure I’d have time to tell him depending on how much time we had.

He made time.

I got up to him with my art print holy shit he’s even more beautiful in person and his eyes are STUNNING. He said hi, and asked my name so he could personalize the autograph if I wanted (DUH, YES PLEASE), and he apologized about the line after we shook hands. I jokingly told him it was fine since I’d driven hours to get here. A little time in line wasn’t a bother. He even loved one of the buttons on my lanyard - the button of Matt wearing a heart crown specifically! And as he was writing, I knew this was my chance to tell him. He was still signing, so I just decided to go for it in case I ran out of time.

“I just wanted to tell you,” I said quietly, “as someone who became disabled as a kid around the same age as Matt did—”

And then he did something I didn’t expect, something I’d rarely seen anyone do, famous or not, and something I’d never had an actor or artist do for me.

He immediately set down the pen, leaned in close over the table, and made direct eye contact, while giving me the most genuine, gentle, encouraging smile I’d ever seen.

In that moment, I knew everything in him was listening, that he cared about what I was about to say and recognized that this was important to me, and that he’d closed the distance to make this conversation just... us. It felt personal in a way I’ve never experienced at a con or signing.  

Just like that, I wasn’t afraid to tell him what I’d wanted to.

“And as someone who related to... a lot of what Matt went through, his struggles in the show, and especially the dark parts of season 3,” I said, more confidently now, “I wanted you to know that all the work you put in, the way you played it, the way you played Matt and treated it seriously, seeing that helped me process and heal from a lot of my own trauma and pain over what I’ve gone through with my illnesses. What you did was important and it really helped me. So I wanted you to know that, how much that meant to me, and to say thank you.”

The whole time I spoke to him, he kept direct eye contact, and didn’t look away once. He didn’t get antsy, or look like he wanted me to hurry up (which I’d have understood, cause damn, these are long days for him). He listened, fully engaged and leaning in, his eyes warm and soft and kind but incredibly serious. I’m not sure how often he’s been told something like this—a lot, I expect; his portrayal was just that good, and I know it was important to a lot of fans—but what I was trying to tell him clearly meant something to him. I felt heard, seen, and understood.

Charlie really does care about his fans. It isn’t an act. I’m sure of it now.

“Thank you, truly,” he said, just as quietly but with that honest smile, eye crinkles and all, and seeing it in person, that close up, I swear the room felt ten times brighter. “Thank you for coming to tell me that. It means a lot, the idea that something I did meant so much and that it could help you. I’m so grateful that you were able to come visit and tell me.”

We shook hands after that. He wished me a good day and I told him thank you again, and that was that. The interaction only lasted maybe a minute, but it meant the absolute world to me, as did what he’s done as Daredevil. And now he knows that.

[goldkirk]

I DON'T HAVE TO LIE ANYMORE!

[arsonist-chicken]

The new PJO series is great because they made Percy really Just Some 12-Year-Old with all the justified unhinged rage a 12-year old who's being mistreated has in him

[skitskatdacat63]

I feel uninspired and lack motivation for art again so I thought of an ask game for me :)

Send me(or comment) a number from 1-34 and I will draw my corresponding oc

I mentally struggled over whether I should make this post, because ik ocs are niche and probably not many people care for it, but I realized I could have been using those hours to y'know. Actually draw something. So I might as well just post it

[sentofight]

ooc. u know since i started teaching i think my grammar is getting..........tiny..........tiny...weeensyyyyyy eaaannyyyy better. i know how grammar works but then i write my brain: *slides arabic structure here because it can* and then you have arabizi*

[pulchrasilva]

Sigh I need to rant about certain people and how there is a background noise of discomfort with every interaction after particular incidents that made me go "bitch you live like this???" but all my typical vent spaces are ones where they might see it and the only ones that they wouldn't see it in are like discord channels that are not for this topic of vent or friends who would be uncomfortable with the topic etc like,,, what do I even do? Stew in it?