#Freefall sleep position

[cheri-cheri]

25 Canon Facts about Caleb - Part 2

As someone with the memory of a goldfish and an insatiable thirst for Caleb content, I'm embarking on a mini project to collate facts about him based on in-game texts \( ´ ꒳ ` )/♡ Let's appreciate our precious apple boy together!

✧ Part 1 ll Part 3 ll Part 4

Caleb and MC participated in a handmade lantern making contest. [Event - Masterwork Lantern]

When building models, MC does the designing and Caleb does the building. Caleb attributes his aptitude in building models to MC and her sometimes complicated ideas. [Event - Masterwork Lantern]

Caleb sent MC a link about how sleeping positions reflect one's personality and revealed that he is aware of MC's various sleeping positions. [Daily - Sleep Analysis]

Caleb mostly sleeps on his back, on his side, in a side-punch position or a freefall position. MC noted that based on the link, people who sleep on their stomachs have controlling behavioural tendencies and like to hide their emotions. MC also noted that people who sleep on their back have high standards for themselves and others and dislike disorder. [Daily - Sleep Analysis]

Caleb clarified that his only rule for MC is for her to prioritise herself no matter what, and that he has high standards for himself so that he can protect MC better. [Daily - Sleep Analysis]

Caleb picked out MC's old bedsheets and pillows. [Daily - Sleep Analysis]

One of the Farspace Fleet's most important jobs is providing protocore energy to Skyhaven. The Fleet is also the only one with enough combat experience to operate inside the Deepspace Tunnel. The Fleet has been criticised for having too much authority as it sometimes has the final say over everything in Skyhaven. [Daily - The Returner]

For now, Caleb plans to avoid showing up in front of people who know him in Linkon. [Daily - The Returner]

Caleb noticed when MC's eyes were red and that she kept rubbing them. He sent her eye masks and eye health supplements. [Daily - Eye Care Guide]

Caleb learnt some eye exercises during his days in the Aerospace Academy. There is a text option where he decides to visit MC to teach them to her. [Daily - Eye Care Guide]

The accounting book that young MC used as a grudge diary to record the times Caleb made her mad was actually a gift from Caleb when she won her first essay competition titled "20 Reasons Why Caleb Makes Life Better!" [Daily - Budgeting Tips]

When young MC wrote something in the grudge diary, she would read everything out loud to make sure Caleb knew what she was writing. [Daily - Budgeting Tips]

When they were younger, MC and Caleb once went out to play and got lost in the woods. [Daily - Budgeting Tips]

When they were younger, Caleb refused to let MC have ice cream when she had a cold. [Daily - Budgeting Tips]

When they were younger, Caleb gave MC a wish coupon but she lost it before she could use it. [Daily - Budgeting Tips]

MC confessed that the aside from complaints, she also wrote down all the silly things Caleb did when he tried cheer her up. Caleb acknowledged that he was often the reason why MC needed cheering up in the first place. [Daily - Budgeting Tips]

MC and Caleb used to sneak out of study hall after school. Caleb would camp outside her classroom whenever he wanted to help her to skip class. [Daily - Auditorium Escape]

The plushies that MC and Caleb win from the claw machine are kept in Caleb's home. An exception is the plane plushie which Caleb insisted that MC keeps. [Daily - Let It Fall]

MC and Caleb have a shared New Year's album where they store the photos that they take together. The password to the shared album is a shortened version of "Caleb is a big dummy". They have many shared New Year's albums from over the years. [Daily - New Year Journey]

MC and Caleb participated in a "Letters to Strangers" message relay event without telling each other. The notebook ended up with Caleb and he recognised MC's handwriting on a page she wrote on from around a year ago. [Daily - Letter to a Stranger]

Caleb has a high tolerance for sour things. He dries lemon peels for tea. [Daily - Naked Lemon]

MC has purchased a rug alarm, maze alarm clock and flying alarm clock but none of them are as effective or experienced in waking MC up. [Daily - Rug Alarm]

Caleb sent MC celestial coordinates to a beautiful nebula. [Daily - Blossom Nebula]

During his breaks between patrol missions, Caleb always wonders about what MC is doing. Otherwise, he finds the time spent away from MC too hard to bear. [Daily - Blossom Nebula]

Caleb and MC ran into her colleagues at the planetarium and she introduced him as a friend. Caleb hoped that if a similar situation were to happen again, she would introduce him by name. [Daily - Blossom Nebula]

❀ Masterlist

[stbeck]

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader synopsis: slow, sometimes uneasy, mornings spent with the love of your life. mornings you want to have for the rest of your days.

The early morning sunrise is welcoming as it spills through the crack in the blinds, swallowing the room up in a blend of soft oranges and reds. The sun continues to make a slow ascent over the horizon, waking the world with a gentle explosion of comfort as it splinters across the sky, expelling the lingering nightmares pulling at your subconscious. It’s the first time in weeks that Aaron’s next to you, so close that it’s hard to decipher where your body ends and his begins.

“Aaron.”

A soft grunt.

“Aaron.”

His eyes flicker.

“Baby,” another murmur.

But he still doesn’t wake up to the affection in your voice.

Nor does he acknowledge the faint touch of your fingertips as they dance across his abdomen, tracing the old scars that blemish his skin: memories of a survival of the fittest, where the reaper’s blade had permanently sliced his skin and almost destroyed the future you’d been building together. His body is eerily still except for the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he takes a breath, freckled skin pale against the dark sheets beneath him.

He looks peaceful; innocent.

Angelic in the early morning fragments of light.

Except you know Aaron Hotchner is anything but holy.

“Aaron,” you whisper, mouth pressed to his ear.

There’s a brief moment where there’s nothing and then, without warning, he’s quickly shifting his position, fists closing around the covers in anticipation of them being snatched from him. Even when he’s half-asleep, he seems to know you better than you know yourself, predicting the moves you want to make before they even enter your mind. There’s no flicker of regret or annoyance at the way he can read you so well, because this is the life you’d always dreamed of; curled up in one another’s warmth as though the world doesn’t exist outside the two of you. It’s barely dawn but you find yourself wishing that this moment never ends, that you never have to sacrifice another moment with him for the sake of his job.

“Morning, baby,” you hum.

He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder.

The sun dances along his skin as he adjusts his body so it rests against yours, the palm of his hand brushing innocently against your thigh. His touch doesn’t linger before he’s reaching for you again, toppling your body back onto the mattress and trapping you underneath him.

“I can’t breathe,” you groan out.

“Should’ve let me sleep in then.”

He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, following the slope of your neck until eventually his forehead is resting against yours. There’s a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth and it feels like you’re in a freefall, spinning out as you experience all the butterflies you felt when you first met, falling in love all over again. It doesn’t take much; it never has when it comes to him.

“Let me go, Aaron.”

He kisses you, then murmurs, “Never.”

A smile crawls across his face when the sound of your laughter echoes through the room. He’s still holding you close, feeling the thrum of your heartbeat against his as he profiles the way your body subconsciously seeks him out. He watches as you follow his movements, craving the closeness as you lean back into his emanating comfort as though you won’t be able to survive without him.

“I hate you.”

“Didn’t take you for a liar.”

Aaron’s kiss is warm and a little sleep-sour and slow, soft lips moving against yours. It’s chaste at first and incredibly sweet, making your stomach flip as you open your mouth. Aaron chuckles at your obvious neediness, breath ghosting over your parted lips, but obliges, licking his way into your mouth and deepening the kiss.

“I missed you,” you whisper into his skin.

Aaron’s been gone for longer than he ever has before, working through a backlog of cases that he can never talk about. He’s spent the last month speaking up for victims who no longer have a voice, but for each case the team dedicates themselves to, the weight of the burden that comes with it increases tenfold. The aftermath is written in the tired lines of his face, and this time, it matches the dark purple bruising across his cheekbones and split skin of his knuckles that look raw in the muted shadows of the sunrise. Seeing Aaron hurt makes your heart ache in your chest and all you want to do is take him in your arms and never let him leave again. 

“How are you feeling?”

He nods, reassuring. “I’ll be fine.”

He almost sounds like he believes it, and deep down, it might be true. But all you can see is the bruises, the vacant look in his eyes, the fact that he looks like he’s been through hell and there’s not one single part of you that takes him at his word. There’s always a brief period of time when he gets home that he’s still Hotch, the stoic Unit Chief, the man who never smiles, all detached and cold, eyes closed off in a way that sets your frayed nerves on edge.

It takes time to teach himself how to just be Aaron again.

“And you? How are you?”

An ever-steady silence begins to grow, settling amidst the distance but he doesn’t loosen his grip. He allows you as much time and space you need to readjust to having him back, knowing that the thread tying you both together could slip from his grasp at any moment. He watches you, a sharp-clawed glance that pierces through skin until he’s so far deep into your soul, he can see straight through you.

“Better, now you’re here,” you answer.

He can feel the catch in your breath and the way your pulse races under his touch and knows, without a shadow of a doubt, you are his home and there is nothing in the world that could stop him from coming back to you.

“What are you thinking about?”

“How I’d sell my soul if it meant you’d never leave again.”

The words seem to trigger something in him, something so visceral you can almost feel it in the air. He pulls back, not too far, but creates enough distance that he’s able to scan you, seeking some clarity in the way you can’t meet his eyes. His keen eye surveys the room like there’s something out of place, like there’s something missing, something he hasn’t noticed before. He just can’t put his finger on it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Aaron───”

“I don’t deserve you.”

His voice is hollow; muted.

It’s something he’s thought about far too often before, losing himself in the what-ifs. He has this recurring nightmare where he loses you too, like he’s lost everyone else who meant something to him. He’s so used to losing those he loves, he doesn’t understand what it means when someone stays, when someone survives. 

“Don’t say that,” you beg.

“It’s true───”

“I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

He shakes his head, and holds you tighter; there’s no telling when he’ll let you go again. It’s a tangle of bruised limbs against soft, dewy skin and arms entwined until there’s barely any space to breathe in between. He nudges his nose against yours as he mumbles soft, overdue apologies against your lips, like he’s trying to make up for his absence with excuses you’ve never really needed or excuses you’ve never once asked for.

“Aaron?”

His eyes soften as they meet yours.

He savours the way the morning casts a subtle light over your body like a soft caress of a hand, highlighting the soft freckles on your skin. He never takes this for granted, knowing deep down in his bones that he’s lucky to have you waiting for him at home, regardless of the bitterness inside him, regardless of the sacrifices you both have to make to stay together. Somehow all of the darkest times are instantly dwarfed by moments like this.

“Honey,” he says, with a grin.

“Why are you looking at me like that?

 “Any reason why you’re on my side of the bed?”

The observation, as unexpected as it is, coaxes a laugh out of your throat, the sound bubbling up in your chest before you can stop it. It seems like a mundane thing in the grand scheme of things. Minutes ago, the room seemed smaller, the sombre mood immersing you in bruises and nightmares and the metaphorical distance separating twin souls.

“I missed you.”

Aaron frowns, then asks, “What?”

“It’s just───the pillow still smells like you,” you explain, voice low as you rest the palm of your hand against his jawline. “It made me feel a little less alone, like maybe you were here by my side all along. It sounds stupid, I know, but it helped.”

“It’s not stupid,” he breathes out.

He reaches out for you, fingers intertwined with yours.

He’s careful as he drapes his body on top of yours, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses against your lips. It’s brief, but it’s filled with every ounce of the love he feels and your chest tightens at the gesture, choked up with the sudden rush of emotion. He kisses across your nose, then your cheek until eventually he seeks a path down to your neck, pressing another kiss there before he rests his head against your chest, hugging your body tight.

“I love you so much, honey.”

His voice is quiet; subdued as the confession lingers.

He’s said it before, a thousand times, in a hundred different ways but this feels different. He’s clinging onto you like an anchor in a raging storm and he’s afraid to drown in your absence. He says it again, and then again, and it strikes against your entire being as you melt further into his touch, relishing the moment before the outside world steps in to destroy it all over again.

But here, in this moment, his sacred declaration settles in your soul and for the first time in months, a semblance of peace washes over you.

A simple reminder that you’ve found a home in Aaron, and he’s found a home in you.

[goldenraeofsun]

The Dad Who Stepped Up

For @elegitre!

Bruce puts the Batmobile in park. With a heavy sigh, he pulls down the cowl and glances over at Dick, sleeping soundly in the passenger seat. Twin dark purple bruises bloom across his knees – Bruce almost hadn’t caught him in time, but he grabbed Dick out of freefall at the last second, wrenching his right arm out of its socket in the process. His ribs ached as his torso absorbed most of Dick’s weight, but, worst of all, the landing slammed Dick’s knees against the unforgiving asphalt.

Bruce reaches over, his gauntlets hovering over Dick’s bare knees. He really should work on convincing his ward to add pants to his uniform. Dick has proved himself remarkably stubborn, but Bruce is an adult. He’s Batman. Nobody can out-stubborn him – not Deputy Chief of Police, James Gordon, not his butler, Alfred Pennyworth, and certainly not an eight-year-old who thinks bad puns are the height of sophistication.

Dick will be wearing pants on the next patrol. End of discussion.

With that resolve, Bruce slips out of the Batmobile. He soundlessly opens the passenger-side door and carefully unbuckles Dick. With his good arm, he lifts Dick against his left side and ignores the way his ribs throb. Dick’s head lolls, his sleepy breathing heating the hollow of Bruce’s throat.

“Master Bruce?” Alfred says as they pass the Batcomputer.

“Bedtime,” Bruce says in an undertone not to wake Dick.

“I should say so,” Alfred says. “Shall I take care of everything down here?”

“Yes, please,” Bruce says gratefully as he heads to the stairs.

Dick only starts to stir as they make their way down the family wing. “Whazzat?”

“We’re back at the Manor,” Bruce says. “Patrol is over. You’re safe.”

“Oh, good,” Dick murmurs as he settles back against Bruce’s side. “’M tired.”

Bruce smiles. “I never would have guessed.”

“Hmph.”

Bruce nudges Dick’s door open with his foot and gently sets Dick down on his bed. As Dick flops back, apparently dead to the world, Bruce slips off his green boots and sets them down quietly on the floor. He unzips the scaled bottoms, leaving Dick in his underwear, and slowly unpeels the mask from his face. 

“Dick?”

Dick unleashes an almighty snore.

Bruce chuckles. “I know you’re awake, chum.”

Dick cracks an eye open. “What now, Bruce?”

“You need to roll over,” he says, twirling his finger to illustrate. “I don’t want you strangling yourself with your cape in your sleep.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Dick grumbles as he nevertheless turns over so Bruce can unlatch the cape.

“You never know,” Bruce says as he slings the cape over his arm. “Sit up.”

“Don’t wanna,” Dick groans, still face-down, his voice muffled.

“Tough,” Bruce counters. “Sit up, or I will make you.”

Dick doesn’t move an inch.

“Dick.”

Dick buries his face further into his pillow.

“I warned you,” Bruce says as he wraps both hands around Dick’s torso and bodily heaves him up.

Dick, because he is a menace when he is this tired, just slumps back over like a puppet that just got its strings cut.

“Unbelievable,” Bruce mutters as he lets Robin’s cape flutter to the floor and grabs at Dick again.

“Go ’way. ’M tired.”

Bruce levels him a very unimpressed look that Dick doesn’t see because his eyes are firmly shut. “Fine, if you want to sleep like this, Alfred will just have to change the sheets again,” he pauses, “even though he just changed them two days ago. I’m sure he’ll be so pleased with the extra work –”

“Ugh!” Dick pushes himself into what might charitably be called a sitting-position. He’s listing almost 90 degrees to his left side and so slouched over, Bruce can’t see what he’s doing with his hands as they fumble with his uniform top.

“Here,” Bruce says as he falls into an easy crouch and reaches over to help, “let me.” He makes quick work of the hidden fastens and slides the whole thing off Dick’s now limp arms. “There,” he says as Dick falls back against the bed, “that wasn’t so hard was it?”

Dick hums in agreement, all of his fight now gone.

Bruce just smiles as he reaches for the duvet at the end of the bed and tucks Dick in. “Sleep well, Robin.” He hesitates before carding a hand through Dick’s hair.

“’Night, Dad.”

* * *

It takes Bruce an embarrassingly long time to leave Dick’s room, long after Dick’s breaths evened out with deep sleep. Only his arm, still dislocated, jolts him out of his trance with a particularly fierce throb of pain.

In the morning, Dick only sleeps in until ten.

“Good morning,” Bruce says as Dick appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking far more awake than he usually does at this hour.

“Bruce,” Dick says stiffly as he takes his usual seat.

“Master Dick,” Alfred says, appearing out of nowhere to fill his glass with orange juice. 

“Hi, Alfie,” Dick says, subdued.

“We weren’t expecting you for some hours more,” Alfred tuts. “Did you get enough sleep?”

“Yeah.” Dick sneaks a glance at Bruce before he continues, “I slept fine.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Alfred says, patting Dick’s arm as he leaves to put bread in the toaster.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asks.

“Fine.”

Bruce turns to Dick, his concern growing at Dick’s uncharacteristically taciturn responses. “How are your knees?”

“Fine.”

Alarmed, Bruce leans in. “What’s wrong, Dick? Tell me.”

Dick inhales a sharp breath, and Bruce nearly has a heart attack. Eventually, Dick says, “I called you ‘Dad’ last night.”

Bruce blinks. “You did,” he says slowly.

“I didn’t mean to,” Dick rushes to say. 

Bruce swallows, his throat tightening with disappointment. “I understand –”

“I know – I know I’m not your kid,” Dick stumbles over his words as his cheeks turn an impressive shade of red, dimples nowhere to be seen. “I’m not your son. I’m just your ward, and there’s a difference. I know that. I’m just – I’m sorry. I was so tired last night, and I wasn’t thinking – I didn’t mean to call you that. I know you’re not my dad,” he finishes, his voice barely above a whisper.

Bruce listens as Dick lets it all out, mentally scrambling to make sense of his very confusing child. 

Into the loaded silence, the toast pops, and they all jump. 

Eventually, Bruce starts, “I admit, you caught me off guard last night.”

Over Dick’s shoulder, Alfred shoots him a don’t muck this up glare as he deposits toast, jam, and a butter knife in front of Dick.

Dick ducks his head, shoulders hunching over his plate. 

“But I can’t say your actions last night deserve any sort of apology,” Bruce says, reaching out to tap Dick on the hand. “I didn’t presume to think you thought of me as your dad, but there’s no way on Earth I wouldn’t ever welcome it, chum.”

Dick’s head snaps up. 

“You had a father, a wonderful one by all accounts,” Bruce says, his tone solemn. “I don’t want to take his place. It would be an insult to his memory.”

Dick squints at him, a slow smile breaking over his face. “How old are you, B?” he asks, his tone all faux-innocence as his grin widens. “You know loads of kids have two dads now, right?”

Bruce puts his head in his hands.

[pookietv]

clingy | arthurtv

another little illness drabble because i liked doing the george one!

when you got a call from arthur late at night, it was usually him calling to chat when he was bored, or to tell you some new fact that he had found wildly interesting.

so when you heard a slightly raspy, tired sounding arthur, you were a little taken aback.

"y/n?" was the first thing that came down the phone.

"hi, arthur, whats up?" you said sweetly, before a cough came down the phone.

"this might sound a little silly, but would you mind coming round?"

"uh huh, sure, i don't mind at all," you confirmed straight away, "are you okay? you sound a little raspy," you asked.

"think 'm ill.. know it sounds silly but was just laying in bed and i haven't felt great all day, and then i was just missing you and wanted to see you," he rambles out, and you have to admit it did melt your heart a little.

and thats how you had ended up at his door at 11:23, not all that late but a little strange nonetheless, and you pushed the key into the door, the spare you had been given to the flat, slipping your shoes off and heading to arthur's room, trying to be quiet in case anyone was asleep.

you gently pushed open arthur's door to be greeted by him in his boxers, hands tucked under his pillow and laying on his stomach in a freefall position.

"hi, arthur," you said softly as you made your way into his room, putting down your bag which had very little in it, you rarely brought pajamas round to arthurs, knowing you would end up in one of his jumpers, so the bag always felt hollow filled with only your clothes for the next day.

his head lifted from the pillow and a dopey grin plastered itself on his slightly red face.

"how are you feeling?" you asked gently, and he turned himself onto his side so he could see you properly.

"better now you're here, lovie," he babbled back, and you smiled at him.

"you need any water or anything?" you questioned, before looking at his bedside table, which he had clearly prepared for his illness contingencies, tissues, water bottles, snacks and paracetamol.

"'m good, just couldn't sleep very well and i didn't know if it was cause i was ill and i always sleep better with you so i figured," he trailed off, looking a slight bit sheepish as you giggled, "sorry for asking you to come here so late," he finished, but you shrugged.

"no, don't worry about it, you know i'd always come if it'd make you feel better," you reassured, and he just gently put his head back on the pillow.

"i'll get dressed and then come lay down, okay?" you said gently, and arthur murmured out, "that shirt that you like to sleep in, washed it the other day so it'll be in my cupboard rather then my drawer," he explained, and you nodded slightly, opening the cupboard door and grabbing it, quickly pulling your shirt from over your head and replacing it with his, and discarding your trousers, staying in just your underwear, since arthur's room was often hot.

you slid underneath the covers, adjusting them so they lay comfortably on arthur before you felt his forearm resting lazily against your waist, your head tucked next to his collarbone and his face practically buried in your hair.

"sorry if i'm being a little clingy, think i'm just bad at being poorly alone," he joked a little, but you just laughed back gently.

"i don't mind at all, it's actually quite nice," you said, before explaining, "not that you're ill, just that, y'know, you're clingy," i laughed a little more as you tried to explain myself, "although, i don't hate the voice," you teased.

"my voice?" he mumbled out.

"uh huh, kinda raspy," you joked a little more.

"so you find my pain hot?" he said, half teasing back.

"well, i didn't say that," you laughed.

"i mean, i can try get ill more often if it puts you in that kind of mood," he grinned into the top of your head, and you rolled your eyes.

"oh, shut up and go to sleep,"

[bubbly-parker]

~Stiles x Reader Best Friends to Lovers~

warnings: Angst, family fights, bullying by family member(grandma), body insecurities, plus size reader, f reader, SMUT: face sitting, oral both m and f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP UP) 18+ NO MINORS I'll tell your Mom! Stiles and Y/N are 18 yo in this and in their last year of highschool.

summary: After another nasty comment about your body by your grandma you stormed out of the house, your best friend Stiles picked you up and decided that today would be the night he shows you how hot you really are.

probably like 5-6k words ? just guessing here

REQUESTED? : YES

spoiler : Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful

a/n: my insomnia is kicking my ass rn, I have an exam in 5 hours its 3 am and I can't sleep so enjoy, also if things don't make the most sense in some parts of the story it's because it is 3am- the ending was rushed i have no brain energy left to think of a real ending I'll revisit this story in the next few days and fix it if necessary enjoy and don't forget to please reblog if you liked it and leave a request right here

"So, Do you want to talk about it?" Stiles asked, looking over to you in his passenger seat.He could tell you were in a sour mood before he even picked you up.

You were rounding the street, leaving your house behind. You didn't want to answer at all; tears were already burning behind your eyes, threatening to spill. "No" was all you managed to choke out before your tears started freefalling. You hung your head low, watching your tears drop on your lap.

Stiles had no idea what was going on; just a few hours ago after school, he dropped you off at home, and you had a bright smile on your face knowing your family was over for a visit and you hadn't seen most of them since moving to Beacon Hill with your parents two years ago. In the last two years, Stiles and you have grown inseparable; he's the best friend you could have ever asked for, so when you texted him at 1 in the morning asking him to come to pick you up, he knew something was off. He could always tell.

It wasn't unusual for you two to go on late-night drives, but the way you had conveyed your message seemed off immediately: "You need to come pick me up right now." Stiles didn't hesitate; he threw on whatever clothes he could find and took an extra hoodie with him, sneaking past his dad and out into the cold night air. He tossed the extra hoodie onto Roscoe's back seat, knowing you probably didn't even put a jacket on. And he was right, driving towards your house. He saw your silhouette standing in your driveway, no jacket on, just your PJ shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he swore were missing from his closet. You walked towards the jeep, and when Stiles stopped, you entered without a word, put your seatbelt on, and all you said was a quiet "drive".

Stiles didn't know what to do; you didn't want to talk, but he couldn't stand watching you cry; it made his stomach churn and his chest feel tight in a sickening way. He needed you to be okay.

He reached his right hand over to you, taking your hand that was fidgeting with your shirt in his. You loved the way his fingers wrapped around your hand; it always made butterflies erupt in your stomach, even if he was just doing it to comfort you. You let out a choked sob that went straight to Stiles's heart breaking it a little. "I can't help you feel better if you don't talk to me," Stiles whispered, but the Jeep was so quiet that you understood him perfectly. You knew he was right, and you also knew that if anyone could make you feel better, it was Stiles.

Stiles already had a feeling about what was wrong but didn't want to say anything in case he was wrong. He knew you loved your family, but they could be harsh at times. You told him about a year ago how, especially, your grandma would often give you a hard time because of your weight. He found it ridiculous because a) it was none of your grandma's business what your body looked like, and b) he thought you looked amazing—the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. He loved holding you close and loved the way your body felt pressed against him. You've slept over at his place multiple times in the last two years, and holding you close as you slept is still his favorite pastime ever. Of course, he told you multiple times that you look amazing either way, but he understands how hard it is to feel comfortable in your own body, especially when your personal bully used to live with you.

Ever since moving away, your relationship with your family has gotten far better. Before, you used to live in one big house with your grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins constantly around you.

You wanted to tell Stiles what happened and wanted him to hold you and make it seem like everything was alright, but your grandma's voice kept nagging you: "You better start dropping a few Pounds if you ever want that boy to like you back." That was the first thing she dared say to you as you walked into the house earlier. She had been watching you through the kitchen window as Stiles dropped you off after school.

Anyone could tell how in love you were with Stiles by the way you smiled at him. You'd have to be an absolute idiot to miss it, like Stiles, as Lydia likes to point out; he was one of those absolute idiots, as he doesn't seem to notice your feelings for him. Your mother immediately interfered with your grandmother and told her to back off; they never got along, as she treated your mother with just as much kindness as she showed you, none.

You didn't feel hungry sitting with your family during dinner, and even though your mother had served your favorite lasagna, you could only stomach a little salad from the side dishes before you excused yourself and went back to your room. Part of you knew your grandma was right. Stiles would never like you back in the way that you like him; your name doesn't start with Lyd and end with ia, nor are you a fit strawberry blonde; no, you're about the exact opposite of what Stiles has always desired.

Shortly before you texted Stiles to come pick you up, your grandma had entered your room. You had honestly thought that she would be in bed by now, as you hadn't heard any noise from down the stairs in hours as you kept to yourself in your room. "You know, I am just looking out for you." Your grandmother had started her lecture, a lecture that you are all too familiar with; you've heard it about 250 times by now. She's just looking out for you; she just wants to motivate you to lose some weight; she doesn't want you to end up alone with no man. You never understood where your grandma took her audacity from, considering that she wasn't the skinniest woman herself.

"I saw the way you look at that boy; be real with yourself. Do you really think you'd have a chance with him right now?" Knowing your parents and your family, you couldn't exactly lash out at your grandma, so you did the next best thing you could do, which was only moderately disrespectful: you walked right past her out of your room, put your shoes on, and left the house. You stood in the driveway, and the only person that you wanted to see right now was Stiles. You knew he would pick you up at any time of the day, so you shot him a quick text and ducked yourself into the shadows under a tree in your driveway. You didn't want your grandma to see you, but you knew she was watching again.

Stiles couldn't bear your silence anymore, so he spoke again. This time it startled you, as his voice was more firm and he sounded quite angry. "Was it your grandma?" he asked. Your head shot up, and you looked over at him in disbelief, wondering how he knew. When your eyes met his, they softened; his angry stare was gone. Of course, Stiles knew he always did, didn't he? You weakly nodded your head before looking down at your hand again. You suddenly noticed how cold it was in Roscoe, and you shivered. Stile's hand let go of yours as he reached behind your seat to get his hoodie from the back seat. "Here, I had a feeling you would be freezing," he said as he handed you his hoodie. As you pulled his hoodie over your head, you inhaled Stile's scent deeply, hoping he didn't notice. There was something so intoxicating about Stiles that you didn't know if it was just him in general or if your feelings for him were playing a trick on your mind.

"You know everything your grandma has ever said is not true, right?" You have heard this from many people over the years, but only when Stiles said it did you feel put at ease for a little bit. You sat in comfortable silence, knowing Stiles took over the conversation when you were sad, so you could just listen. "Y/N, I mean it; there's nothing about you that could count as a flaw in the slightest, and I don't know how to make you believe that... Sometimes I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so you could realize." Stiles sighed in frustration. You know his frustration wasn't directed at you, but it still made you upset. "Thank you, Stiles," is all you could say.

You leaned your head back against your headrest and closed your eyes. Just now, you noticed that there was music quietly playing in the background. Stiles must have turned it on at some point. It was your playlist, with Until Forever Falls Apart by Ashe playing in the background. You closed your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of driving around.

You were startled when Stiles woke you up. You noticed the Jeep was parked in front of his house. Sometime during the drive, you must have fallen asleep. Stiles still sat across from you in the driver's seat, his hand on your cheek as he slowly stroked across it to wake you up. You felt a yawn make its way across your lips and stretched your legs. Stiles got out and rounded the Jeep, opening your door for you. He held it open as you jumped out. Stiles took your hand as he walked toward the door. You shuffled a little closer, putting your head on his arm. You noticed the sheriff's car was gone. "My dad was called back to the station about an hour ago." Stiles said he had noticed you staring at the empty spot where the sheriff's car usually stood. Once inside, you made your way to Stiles's room; according to his alarm clock, it was almost 2 a.m. Stiles must have been driving a bunch of circles around the city while you were asleep. You made a mental note to quickly steal Roscoe tomorrow and fill his tank for Stiles.

You took your shoes off and crawled into Stiles's bed. You heard him shuffle around behind you like he was searching for something, but you just wanted to lie down. A few seconds late, you felt Stiles get in bed behind you, his chest pressed to yours as his arms sneaked around your waist. At first, you hated when Stiles touched your stomach, but at first, you were also not used to cuddling with a boy in general. To anybody walking in, you two would seem like more than just friends, and the thought of that made your heart race. As you lay in silence, you once again noticed music playing in the background. Stiles must have looked for his speakers; your favorite playlist was quietly playing from the direction of his desk.

Stiles's hand sneaked under your, or well, his, hoodie, and he laid it right under your breast on top of your pajama shirt. Suddenly you noticed how hot it was getting under the hoodie and blanket, but you didn't dare move to take it off out of fear Stiles would move back.

Stiles shifted slightly behind you and buried his head in your neck. While you were absentmindedly intertwining your legs, you swore you could feel something poke you from behind. Your eyes widened. You have felt Stiles boner against you before a few times in the mornings and always just shrugged it off as morning wood. You felt Stiles move a little again when he whispered "I'm sorry" right in the nape of your neck. You didn't know how to react as goosebumps covered your skin and a shiver ran down your spine. You thought Stiles would move away from you, but instead, he pulled you in, making you gasp out when you felt his hard-on fully pressed against you.

Stile's head was still buried in your neck when you felt him slightly lift it and press a kiss right between your neck and shoulder. Another shiver wrecked your body as you turned your head slightly to look Stiles in the eyes; he had fully lifted his head, looking down on you.

Stiles didn't know where his sudden boost in confidence had come from, but ever since he saw your tear-filled eyes in the car, he wanted to confess his feelings to you and make you feel beautiful. Usually, when he got a boner around you, he would run off to the bathroom and take care of it, but right now, he wanted you to feel what you do to him.

He felt like he was about to explode with the way you were looking up at him—your big doe eyes, pupils blown wide, and lips gaping. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you.

You couldn't make out what you saw in Stiles's eyes right now; his dark eyes were almost black. "I really want to kiss you right now." Stiles's raspy voice said in a whisper that had your breath stuck. When you didn't respond, he moved his head a little closer to your ear. "Can I?" he asked again in a whisper. You could only nod your head. That's when Stiles removed his hand from under your hoodie to cup your face. When his lips finally met yours, you were sure time had stopped. You felt a new set of goosebumps rise on your skin as you kissed Stiles back eagerly, and you both smiled into the kiss when Stiles suddenly moved back. He pushed you back to lay flat on your back as he climbed in between your legs before kissing you again.

He couldn't believe that he was actually kissing you, mentally thanking every god out there for today. Stiles ground your crotches together, which ripped a loud moan from you. You turned your head away, embarrassed by what just happened. You felt Stiles heavy breathing. He took your face back in his hand and turned your head so you would look at him again. He looked heavenly; you can't believe what just happened.

"I've been wanting to do that for two years."

With these few words, Stiles had your whole world crumbling as tears slowly started falling from your eyes. You stared up at Stiles as he slowly started to panic, not knowing what he had done wrong. You couldn't stop the tears from falling. For the past two years, you thought that Stiles only saw you as a friend, when he might have wanted you just the way you wanted him. "Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I didn't want to cross any boundaries. I- I m so stupid." Stiles started to sit back and move away from you when you reached for his arm to hold him still. You still had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't stop a smile from stretching across your face. "And I've been waiting for you to do that for the past two years, you idiot." Now, it was Stiles's turn to look absolutely shocked and dumbfounded at the same time. "HuuH?" was the only thing he managed to get past his lips. You laughed at him and leaned forward, reconnecting your lips. You felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your chest. A lump in your throat that you didn't know was there dissipated, and when Stiles started kissing you back, you finally wrapped your arm around his neck. Stiles deepened the kiss, asking for permission with his tongue, which you happily granted.

"Do you want me to stop? We don't have to go further," Stiles asked. "Honestly, this was already way more than I ever expected to happen. You don't -"

Stiles groaned into your mouth when he finally got to kiss you the way he wanted to for so long, and when you pushed your hips up to grind against him, he swore he lost his sanity. His hands traveled down your sides and under your hoodie, where they settled at your waist. "Can I take these off?" he referred to his Hoodie on you and your shirt. You hummed, opening your eyes and looking back at him. "I need verbal confirmation, y/n." He chuckled at you. " Yes, Stiles, please." He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling your shirt and hoodie above your head in one go. What Stiles didn't know was that you wore no Bra underneath. He tried not to stare at your naked chest underneath him, so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable when he looked up at you. You had your head turned away again, slightly covering part of your chest with one hand. He took your hand in his own slowly moving, removing it from your chest.

He leaned back down and started spreading small pecks along your neck and down to your collarbone, which had you whimpering and trusting back up against him.

You felt him smile into your skin. His hand slowly traveled down your body, settling onto your hips and pushing them back down into the mattress. "Patience, baby, we will get there." Stiles moved his head back up and turned your face to look at him. You couldn't keep yourself from blushing at his words. You've never known that Stiles had such a side to him. Your hands tucked slightly at Stiles's shirt, signaling that you wanted it off; he sat back on his knees and pulled his shirt above his head. You've seen Stiles shirtless before, and every time it makes your skin heat up, you're sure you couldn't blush a deeper shade of red as you were staring at his perfect form. When you looked at his face, you noticed he was already looking at you. Watching as you stared at his body, you felt flustered under his dark eyes. Stiles's hands were back on your thighs, rubbing small circles with his thumbs that made your legs twitch.

You giggled as you noticed Stiles was starting to get into a nervous ramble. "Stiles, calm down, you're fine, I don't want to stop." For the first time tonight, it felt like you could talk freely with nothing holding you back. "Okay, good, good, but tell me if I need to stop. I will I prom-"

"Stiles! "

"Will you please shut up and get back here?" You reached your arms out to him, signaling to him that you wanted him back on top of you. Stiles smiled as he leaned back down, capturing your lips in another kiss. Both of you hadn't planned this, and neither one of you knew how to make the next move. You both knew you wanted more, and you knew that Stiles had slightly more experience than you and hoped he would make the next move.

And thankfully he did. Stiles slowly moved his hand that was still on your thigh a little higher, feeling your breath hitch as he cupped your heat through your pants, slowly rubbing his palm against you. You let a small moan escape your lips, which was swallowed by Stiles as he kept kissing you. He undid the tie of your (his) sweatpants and pushed his hand inside he moved his fingers down over your panties to feel how damp they were. "Stiles, please," you whimpered against his lips. Stiles swore he was so hard that he could come from just looking at you right now. He pulled his hand out, and you buckled your hips in protest. A small laugh passed his lips. He decided not to torture you any longer and started to pull your pants down. You lifted your hips for him to make it easier, and when they were finally off, he ran his hands up and down your thighs, feeling your soft skin.

You reached one of your hands between you to cup Stiles's erection through his own sweatpants. Feeling your hands on him for the first time made Stiles let out a loud groan that went straight to your own core.

You pushed Stiles slightly so he would lay on his back as you climbed between his legs. He stared at you as you settled on your stomach between his legs. He wet his lips and groaned when you palmed him harder. He lifted his hips off the bed and watched you pull his sweats and boxers down in one go. You wrapped your hands around him and looked up at him as you leaned forward to lick one long stripe along the underside of his dick up to his tip, where you collected his precum on your tongue. "Fuck, Y/N, don't do that." Stiles threw his head back; there was no way he could look at you if he wanted to last. You wrapped your lips around him and started bobbing your head up and down in a slow rhythm. Stiles groaned above you as his hands grabbed the sheets, and you saw his knuckles turn white.

You took his hand in yours and guided it to the back of your head to signal him that he could take control. Stiles took your hair in his hand and wrapped the other one around your scalp, holding you close. Suddenly, he started thrusting up while simultaneously pulling your head down, his cock going further down your throat with every thrust. You tried your best to breathe through your nose. Stiles moans fueled your desire to make him finish, so you hollowed your checks more and sucked harder. One of his hands left your head, and he draped it lazily over his eyes, thrusting his hips fast and keeping your head down. "I'm I'm close- fu- so close, Y/N." You felt a stutter in his rhythm, and after a few more thrusts, his hips lifted up one last time. He pushed your head down fully, your nose pressed against his pelvis as he came down your throat. You swallowed around him, the overstimulation making him pull out.

"Come here," Stiles pulled you towards him. You had to crawl on his lap because you were too short to reach him from your position. Stiles pulled you into another kiss and groaned when your wet panties rubbed against his half-erect dick.

Stiles's hands roamed over your body and settled on your ass; he pushed your hips down to grind harder against him as you were still mostly hovering over him, unsure whether you should put your whole weight on him.

When Stiles finally felt you let go and sink down on his lap he moved one of his hands from your ass and in between your bodies where he pulled your panties aside, he moved back a little so he could see you fully and ran one of his fingers up and down your slit collecting your wetness, you moaned at the feelings of stiles finger on you, he moved his finger up and slowly started drawing circles on your clit with his finger pad, you fell forward and put your hands against stiles chest as you let your moans slip freely from your mouth you started grinding against stiles hand as he finally inserted his finger into you, you needed more already soaking stiles hand you begged Stiles for more "More, please Stiles" he added another finger, spreading you open, the hand on your ass helping you move faster against his hand. The palm of his hand rubbed against your clit. 

Stiles couldn't believe the sight above him, trying to implant your beauty into his brain forever as you threw your head back. "I'm gonna come- Stiles!" Your hips stuttered, but his hand on your ass helped you move through your orgasm. You collapsed on top of him. He slowly stroked your back, but Stiles wasn't done with you yet. He waited for your breathing to calm down before he spoke again. "I want to taste you." You felt another blush creep up on your cheeks. You weren't going to deny Stiles his wish and were going to move off him to lie down when he held you still. "Sit on my face," Stiles said as he pulled your hips upward. Your cheeks fired up as you started stuttering. "Whaat no, I can't, we can't," you tried to move off. "Baby, look at me. I know what you're thinking, and I promise you won't hurt me." Stiles insisted looking up at you. "N-no, what if I crush you?" you said quietly, not looking Stiles in the eyes. Stiles smiled at you, and his hands traveled up your thighs, gripping them tightly. "You won't, and even if you did, it sounds like a great way to go out." You frowned and slapped him across the chest, earning you a laugh from Stiles. "Y/n, I mean it; you won't hurt me if it makes you feel better. How about I tap your thighs like this if I need you to move up?" He asked while tapping two of his fingers against your thigh three times. He looked up at you, giving you the best puppy eyes he could muster. You knew you could never deny him when he looks like this, and with a sigh, you gave in "Ookay- but..."

"No more buts!" Stiles interrupted you. He lifted you up slightly as if you weighed nothing and helped you out of your panties before moving your body towards the headboard until you were hovering over his face. He caressed your inner thighs, spreading your legs further apart. Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful. Stiles's hands moved up to your hips, which he grabbed tightly before pressing you down onto him, finally having your cunt on his face. He liked a long stripe up from your hole to your clit, moaning at the taste, which sent vibration right through your clit and a shock up your spine.

Stiles ate you out like a man starving, pulling you even closer and fully burying his head into your cunt. He rocked your body against his face, his nose brushing against your clit as he pushed his tongue into you. You grabbed his hair with one hand and the headboard with the other, rocking your body back and forth against Stiles's face, letting moans of his name echo through his room, which only fueled Stiles on more. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, you ground down right into him. "Shit Stiles, s-sorry," you tried to lift yourself back up, but Stiles held you close, pressed up against his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked up at you, the eye contact sending shivers down your spine.

Stiles moaned against your clit making you throw your head back. One of his hands sneaked up your body and ghosted over your breast. Stiles has always wanted to touch them. When you put your hands over his to grab them harder, Stiles finally lost his last reserve and started rolling your nipple between his fingers. "Stiles, Stiles..." His name fell off your lips like a mantra as you came a second time that night, your legs clamping together around Stiles's head, trying to keep him there. He tried his best to lap up all your juices, and when the stimulation became too much, you lifted yourself up, much to Stiles's displeasure, as he would much rather have kept you there. You moved to the side, lying down next to Stiles.

You looked at him, his face glistening in your juice. "That was the best thing ever!" Stiles exclaimed with a smile on his face. You chuckled at his bright smile. He looked like a kid on Christmas. He leaned over to you, connecting your lips. You could taste yourself on his lips. You felt Stiles hard on press against your thigh. You moved your hand down his stomach and wrapped it around your shaft. You moved, so Stiles was in between your legs. "I want you inside me," you mumbled against Stiles's lips.

Stile's mind went haywire. He didn't expect to ever get so far with you, so he didn't have any condoms. You saw the worried look on his face as you watched his eyes scan the room. "I'm on birth control, Stiles," you reassured him as you ground your wet cunt against his hard cock. "Are you sure this is okay?" Stiles asked as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Yes, Stiles, I've never been more sure."

Stiles slowly pushed in, making sure not to hurt you. He knew you hadn't slept with anyone since losing your virginity over two years ago, so it stung a little when Stiles was fully inside you. He stayed still for a moment, just taking in your beautiful face and the feeling. "You're beautiful," Stiles said, smiling down at you. Stiles has called you beautiful before, but it had never made you feel the way it did now that you knew he felt the same way about you.

You moved your hips a little, signaling Stiles to move. "Stiles, move, ple-ase!" Stiles pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in. He immediately found the right spots that had you moaning under him, "fuck- fast- stiles faster!" You moaned in his ear. Stiles picked up the pace and felt your nails dig into his back. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder so he could reach even deeper. The new position made him hit your g-spot with every thrust and had you tightening incredibly around him. "Fuck Y/N, you're too tight." Stiles swore you were sent to earth just for him, as he filled you perfectly. He propped himself down on his elbow, pressing himself even closer to you. He reached one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit. 

You were still incredibly sensitive from earlier and came almost instantly while he continued rubbing your clit in slow circles to help you back down from your high. Your thighs were shivering. Stiles pulled out of you and turned you around; he gently pushed you on your stomach. You slightly lifted your ass up towards him as well as your shaking legs could support you. Stiles trusted back inside you, but with the first thrust of his hips, your legs already gave out. You were gripping the sheets between your fingers as Stiles held you against him, chasing his own orgasm. "Fuck y/n, I'm going cum," he said, his rhythm breaking. "In-inside... please stileees" you whined out for him. The thought of coming inside sent Stiles over the edge. He pressed his chest against your back as he slowly emptied himself inside you.

When he pulled out, you flopped back on the bed and said, "Don't move; wait here!" Stiles got off the bed and ran into the bathroom, you guessed. When he came back, he had a roll of toilet paper and a warm washcloth. He cleaned up between your legs the best he could before crawling back in bed with you. He pulled you flush against his chest, loving the way you curled into his side. You laid your head on your chest, listening to Stiles's heartbeat as he played with your hair. You heard Stiles say something but didn't register it, exhaustion finally catching up on you as you fell asleep.

At 6:30 a.m., just a few hours later, you were rudely awakened by Stiles's alarm. You debated for a second about just skipping class when Stiles and you heard his dad in the hallway. You both immediately sprang into action, getting your clothes back on, just as you had finished putting on your clothes and pulling your shirt down, the sheriff entered the room. He looked surprised, expecting to only find Stiles.

It's not like you have never slept over at Stiles place, but usually the sheriff knew. Judging by the way the sheriff looked at Stiles, he already knew what had happened between you two. "Just make sure you both make it to school in time, okay?" Was all he said, looking at Stiles, who nodded his head, hand scratching his neck. "We have to be quick; I need my stuff from home," you reminded Stiles after the sheriff left.

Stiles dropped you off at him with barely 10 minutes to spare, which definitely wasn't because you two took an extra long shower this morning. Your mother tried to approach you and question you about what happened and why you weren't at home, but you just brushed her off promising to fill her in later. You changed your clothes, grabbed your bag, and were back in Stiles's jeep in record time. You knew your grandma was watching again from the kitchen window, so you reached over and pulled Stiles into a kiss.

Stiles caressed your cheek and deepened the kiss. You didn't pull back until you couldn't breathe. Just as you were about to lean in again, you saw your dad leave the house out of the corner of your eye. "Drive!" You turned to Stiles, who didn't need to be told twice as you both made your way to school. You couldn't help but laugh at the face your dad made while standing alone in the driveway.

At school, you and Stiles walked in holding hands, looking for your friend group. The first one you spotted was Lydia, who gave you a knowing smirk. "It looks like you're no longer on the list of oblivious idiots, Stiles," she said, making Stiles look confused.

[night-raven-tattler]

JCJXJXJXJDNDNNXJXJXJXNZNXNXNXMXKMCJCJCJS

SORRY, I'M FANGIRLING (Is that even a word?)

Tattly, I swear, I was thinking about sending this request DURING New Year's Eve, BUT MY ENTIRE CITY SPENT THE FIRST DAY COMPLETELY WITHOUT POWER 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

But if I can ask you now, tell me: in what pose do you think the twst boys sleep?

Who has the Dracula pose, who looks like they were run over and, most importantly, WHO HAS THE "POWER BOTTOM, ASS UP" POSE??

I've been completely high on coffee for 4 days, sorry about that~

-🌙

(You'll see a lot of me here, I loved the place)

Hello and happy new year, 🌙! Mx Tattly is pleased with your return. They have conducted a very elaborate investigation, with the help of some of the fellow NRT members. Hope you enjoy the findings!

Turbulent sleep or unperturbed slumber?

Characters: main NRC students cast, NRC staff, Che'nya, Neige (separate)

Warnings: none

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

The yearners/cuddlers: Deuce, Ruggie, Azul, Kalim, Trein, Neige

These are a bunch of people who yearn for warmth and affection. Either they're used to being cuddled to sleep, or they have a natural urge to grab onto something or someone and hold onto it/them until the sun comes up. Their grip is sturdy, their sleep is sound and their pillow is very likely drooled on. They're the most likely to snore, from small kitten snores to bass bosted remixes.

『••✎••』

The pristine logs: Riddle, Jack, Silver, Crewel

This is the sleep position of a person who totally has their life together (/s) and absolutely nothing is wrong with them (/s). They are totally okay with their life (/s). Even from the moment the go to bed they know how they want to wake up in the morning. The pose is unshakeable and they are statues, impossible to wake up from the outside, even with the aid of the loudest Sebek available.

『••✎••』

The space hoggers: Grim, Ace, Jade, Floyd, Crowley

Their mission is to occupy as much of the bed as possible. Either from spreading their limbs for comfort or from moving in their sleep as if they're dreaming of participating in a yoga class, they will never wake up the same way they went to bed. Their dedication to claim as much of the bed as possible no matter who else shares it could be rivaled only by the Roman Empire.

『••✎••』

The squishy limb havers: Jamil, Cater, Idia, Che'nya

These people don't fall asleep, they collapse of exhaustion on their bed after being awake for too long, only to wake up a few hours later and wonder why their new bed was the floor. Unfortunately for them, it would be hard for them to fall back asleep, as they somehow managed to get some rest in the position they powered down in. If by some miracle half of their body is still on the bed in the morning, they consider it as a win.

『••✎••』

The coffin dwellers: Trey, Vil, Rook, Ortho, Malleus, Sebek, Sam

This is another position of a perfectly normal person with absolutely no issues whatsoever (/s). This pose is not only absolutely mundane and normal (/s), but it's also efficient: it's the position that allows them to sleep the best and to wake up the fastest in the morning. They sleep (or charge) in a position worth grading, and the school should implement a scoring system that would benefit their overall grade only based on the perfect stillness and grace and total normalcy (/s) of their sleep.

『••✎••』

The freefallers: Epel, Leona, Lilia, Vargas

These people have nothing to fear, as sleeping with you butt upwards and on your stomach is a pose used to assert dominance and superiority. It shows fearlessness, because an unprotected back is a show of vulnerability. Despite the risk they subject themselves to in order to make a statement, they refuse to change their sleeping position. They prefer their freedom and the superiority complex... and the neck / back pain in the morning.

『••✎••』

[projectfreefall]

⏪ freefall

He felt miserable.

His whole frame was hot and nothing he did seemed to make him feel better. Simple virus his aft, ratchet was a dirty liar.

Freefall groaned and tried to shift into a more comfortable position but his berth felt like he was sleeping on a heater.

He sat up, what little kibble he had rattled a bit as he fumbled out of the berth and groggily made his way out of his room. The halls were dark with only the overnight lights dimly illuminating the floor in this wing of the base. He shuffled down to the other side of the hall. He spotted that the door to the habsuit he wanted was locked and grumbled. Reaching up he typed in the access code he had for the door and entered when it unlocked though it took him a few attempts his shaky body hit a few extra buttons by accident.

His eyes adjusted to the even darker room as he made his way to the berth inside when he clamored up onto it his hand reached out to feel for if his sire was there. Feeling the cool metal he gave a tired smile and snuggled up against his chassis. The movement of the sparkling stirred Optimus slightly and he raised his servo to lay across Freefall's back, his blunt digits gently scritched at the sickly sparkling in a soothing gesture. Freefall smushed his little face against his sire's windshield and with the comfort of his sire's presence slipped back into recharge.

[imtrashraccoon]

This one was tricky to figure out a chapter for. Still, I'm happy with it so here you go!

Btw, I recently had someone ask permission to make fan art for this series. I give anyone who was wondering full permission to do so, just make sure to tag me so I can gush over it! (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Nightmare - Freefall

Word Count: 1,368

Today was a bright and sunny one. It was the kind of day where you felt on top of the world and like nothing could possibly get you down. Summer was still a ways off, so to have such a warm day like today was a pleasant surprise.

You were on your way to work and by the looks of things, you'd even be there slightly early so you could get settled before starting on your tasks. It would be a good day...you were sure of it!

And then the sidewalk gave way.

Thankfully, you didn't fall in and managed to stumble back. However, where the sidewalk was just moments before, there was now a gaping abyss. You gingerly looked down into the hole, but discovered that it didn't seem to have a bottom, or at least not one that you could see.

It was especially shocking because you'd never heard of any sinkholes forming in this city, let alone in this part of the country. It hadn't seemed to affect the road but there was no way of knowing how stable the ground around it. You shouldn't even be this close to begin with.

Then someone shoved you from behind.

You lost your balance.

You fell into the hole with a scream.

Your heart instantly leapt into your throat. You could feel the wind whipping your hair and clothes around. You could hear it whistling in your ears. You couldn't bear to open your eyes. You could only brace yourself for impact and hope you died instantly rather than suffering in agony.

But then, your salvation arrived. Powerful tendrils snaked around your body and you were suddenly no longer in freefall. Thankfully, the tentacles were also soft and they wrapped tightly around your body to protect you. In doing so, they helped minimise the sudden change in inertia so you didn't snap your neck like a certain tragic heroine.

When you realized you were no longer falling, you chanced opening your eyes. You immediately made eye contact with Nightmare's cyan eyelight and realized that he was the one who'd caught you. He seemed a little concerned but said nothing and just studied you.

Your heart was pounding so hard that you worried it would burst out of your chest. Not wanting him to dream of letting go, you wrapped your arms tightly around his tentacles as a sob forced it's way to the surface.

Suddenly, you were laying in your bed.

It had all been a bad dream...?

Your cheeks were wet like you had been crying in your sleep and your heart was stilling pounding from the initial fall. Rolling over onto your side, you weakly curled into a fetal position to try and comfort yourself.

Moments later, Nightmare materialized next to your bed and he frowned as he took in how distressed you were. His body language seemed...kind of stiff actually, like he didn't know if he should approach you or not.

Your vision started to go blurry as the tears began to flow anew and without really thinking, you reached out for him.

He was instantly by your side, as if knowing that you wanted him in this moment was the very jump start he needed. He sat down on the edge of your bed and without hesitation, wrapped you up in his arms. When you responded by practically clinging to him, he added his tentacles to the comforting embrace and slowly rubbed your back.

"It's alright, you're safe. I'm here now and I won't let anything hurt you, my dear," he murmured in an attempt to reassure you.

As he talked, you began to feel your terror almost ebb away, to be replaced by a numb feeling in your chest. Your tears seemed to dry up and your heartbeat began to return to a more normal rate. The sudden numbness was a little terrifying and yet almost comforting at the same time, but you didn't know why.

Eventually, you felt calm enough to look up at him. His facial expression seemed unreadable at best and it only made you feel confused. Why was he looking at you like that? Why was he acting so detached, like he didn't know what had happened?

"You gave me a bad dream on purpose," you muttered. Your tone was full of bitterness but you couldn't help the hurt that had welled up in your soul from this whole situation.

He pulled away slightly and his bonebrows furrowed into a frown. "I promise you I didn't. The only involvement I had was aiding you and helping you calm down again."

"Then how did you conveniently know I was even having a nightmare? Especially because you've been crafting dreams for me all this time?"

He sighed and gently stroked your cheek with a claw in a tender way. "I've never lied to you about anything and I won't start now. As for how I knew, I could sense your fear, even across the multiverse, and so I came to help you."

You wanted to believe him but you couldn't help the small seed of doubt that had taken root in your mind. Still, he had noticed what was going on and didn't hesitate to pull you out of the bad dream. He'd even willingly chose to try and comfort you afterwards, even if you still felt a bit shaken from the experience.

As if he read your mind, Nightmare gave your body a gentle squeeze to get your attention. "You're still so tense, dear. Is there anything else I can do for you to help you relax more?" he asked.

"You being here has already helped a lot. Could you...stay?" Glancing away, you added, "I am sorry for accusing you like that... I really shouldn't have just assumed you'd do that to me."

He nodded, "It's alright, it's a natural reaction most people have." After a few minutes of holding you close, he seemed to get an idea. Using his powerful tentacles, he picked you up and carried you with him as he headed to your kitchen.

You readjusted your grip on his shoulders to steady yourself. "Whatcha thinking about?" you murmured.

"I thought I could make you a tea if you'd like."

The thought of hot tea sounded awesome right now and you hummed in approval. "I would actually."

While waiting for the water to boil, Nightmare continued to hold you close, although he occasionally rubbed circles over your shoulders with his claws. It was then that you realized how intimate this moment felt. There was no titillating comments or any teasing gestures meant to get you riled up though. Instead, it was just quiet comfort and the innate knowledge that he was here for you.

Once your tea was ready, he took you into the living room and sat down on the couch. You couldn't really snuggle and drink tea at the same time, but that was quickly solved when he turned you around so you were sitting with your back against his ribcage. In this position, he could still cocoon you in his hold and even rest his skull on the top of your head. The tips of his tentacles also gently stroked against your arms in a comforting way and you still weren't sure how autonomous their movements were or if this was something he was purposely doing.

You were just about done your tea when he finally spoke again.

"You know, while it's been nice spending time with you lately, I don't know how much longer your world code will stay together," he murmured against your hair. "I don't mind giving you a bit more time to decide, but if you choose not to come with me before it collapses, you will die."

Oh right...the deal...

You'd almost managed to forget that your world was doomed with everything that had happened. It had been kind of fun going to bed each night, wondering what dream you'd experience next. From the tone of his voice though, you realized that you were probably running out of time.

"I'll come to a decision soon...I promise."

Nightmare hummed and nuzzled against your hair. "Just don't forget, my dear..."

[sevasey51]

Y/N gas recently been taking her flare up hard. Emotionally anyways. She starts getting depressed and anxious. He notices becuase she’s not eating or sleeping and is just blank. Connor finally asks her about. She tries to explain what’s going on in her head but she can’t form it. She spirals into an anxiety attack and he can’t get her to calm down. She starts crashing slowly and her body is being stubborn and won’t come down. Connor pulls out everything he can to get her stabilized enough to stay at home. After a couple hours the post crash migraine starts setting in.

Can’t Catch My Breath

Summary: Y/N’s been in a slow, heavy flare for weeks—and this one isn’t just physical. She’s not sleeping. She’s barely eating. Her smile hasn’t been real in days. When Connor asks her what’s wrong, she tries to answer… but can’t. The anxiety crashes over her, silent and suffocating. Her body follows—slow POTS spiral, vitals dipping, nothing responding fast enough. Connor pulls out every tool they have to keep her home. But the storm inside her doesn’t break until hours later—when a migraine crashes in, and all that’s left is Connor’s arms, quiet care, and the soft promise: You’re not alone in this.

It started subtly. A shift.

Y/N got quieter. Her energy dulled. Her routines slipped.

She stopped playing music in the mornings. Her tea went cold more than once. She forgot to take her favorite cardigan out of the laundry and left it there for days.

Connor noticed.

She wasn’t flaring hard—just enough that she was always tired, always aching. But something deeper was settling into her bones. Something heavy.

The color in her face faded. Her appetite vanished. The shadows under her eyes deepened, and when he asked if she wanted to watch something, she just shook her head.

He waited.

Until one night—she didn’t come to bed at all.

He found her curled on the couch in the dark, blanket barely pulled up, eyes wide open.

He sat down beside her, slowly, gently.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly. “What’s going on?”

She didn’t answer.

He reached for her hand—cold. Trembling.

“Talk to me.”

She opened her mouth—then closed it. Her throat worked. Her eyes filled.

“I don’t know how,” she whispered.

He nodded. “Try.”

But when she did, it wasn’t words that came.

It was breathlessness.

The rise of panic. The collapse of the wall she’d been holding together with sheer willpower.

Suddenly she was shaking, gasping. Hyperventilating. Fingers clenched. Vision swimming. Her heart was pounding, and her skin was slick with sweat.

“Hey, hey—breathe,” Connor said instantly, moving in front of her. “You’re okay. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

She couldn’t stop. Her body was spiraling. Panic bloomed into full dysautonomia chaos—heart rate climbing, blood pressure dipping, cold sweat breaking out across her back.

Connor’s training kicked in.

He pulled the emergency kit from under the table. Laid her flat, legs up. Pulled a compression blanket over her. Accessed her port with steady hands. Started a fluid bolus.

“Come back to me, baby,” he whispered, brushing her damp hair from her forehead. “Just hold on.”

He tried every trick—guided breathing, grounding pressure, soft verbal anchors. But her body wouldn’t reset.

She wasn’t passing out. She wasn’t convulsing.

But she was stuck—in a sustained freefall that didn’t fully crash… just kept hanging there, keeping her trapped in the worst of it.

Connor adjusted her position. Added a mild beta blocker. Rechecked her vitals every 5 minutes. Kept her warm, close, wrapped in his voice.

Two hours.

That’s how long it took for her system to settle.

And when it finally did—when her heart rate dropped back to double digits, and her breathing evened out—the crash came.

Not from adrenaline.

From everything else.

The migraine hit first. Hard. Sudden. Bone-deep.

She winced, curling into herself, whispering, “It hurts.”

“I know,” he said, already prepping the injection. “Zofran first. Then sumatriptan.”

She let him work. Quiet. Eyes fluttering. Trusting.

When the meds were in, and the cold cloth was laid across her forehead, she finally blinked up at him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

His heart broke all over again.

“Don’t be,” he said. “You don’t have to carry this alone. Not ever.”

She blinked. Her lips trembled. Then finally, she let the tears come.

Connor pulled her into his arms.

Held her.

Rubbed her back in soft, slow circles.

And whispered, “I’ll stay right here. As long as you need.”

Because sometimes, the body doesn’t break first—

The heart does.

The mind does.

The will to keep smiling does.

And when it does—

Love looks like fluids and forehead kisses.

Like quiet monitoring and no judgment.

Like holding her through it, even when she can’t speak.

And reminding her—

She doesn’t have to fight alone.

[phenixfox]

Day 8: Spaceship

While not technically a spaceship, it's still cool to be there.

There’s nothing quite as annoying as being summoned on a random Tuesday during your lunch hour.

Ok, maybe it could be slightly outshined by the second time Danny had ever been summoned before, and the sinking feeling that this was something that would, in fact, be a recurring issue. What made that particular incident a bit better than the current predicament was the fact that he had 100% been summoned in the middle of a bonfire party, in the year 1988, on Halloween, surrounded by drunk teens and 20 somethings.

It took half an hour to get everyone to chill out.

It took another half hour for Danny to get the whos-whats and whens.

After 15 minutes of being taught how to do trick shots at beer pong someone tripped and fell on the summoning circle, the line of salt it was drawn with broken and Danny was treated to whatever feeling happened when he got summoned, only in reverse.

Did he say annoying? The cultist the first time was annoying, these guys kinda ruled for the 15 minutes of A-lister fame he got for being a freak of nature. 

This is all to say Danny already got an earful from Clockwork about how the magic that bound Pariah Dark prevented any summonings of his person, however with his defeat at Danny’s hand meant that if people were just trying to summon whatever power technically held the throne, he’d be the one next in line.

Danny had asked how that even worked, considering it was technically his parents' technology that “defeated” Pariah Dark, he had just been piloting it.

Clockwork had just raised his hand and made a so-so motion.

Useful, once again.

The only other information he had been able to get out of the old/young/man/ghost was that when he was being summoned didn’t necessarily mean just moving through space, after all the infinite realms are infinite for a reason, and time didn’t really exist here, dead as the rest of it’s occupants, so things tended to happen out of order. Additionally, as it turns out the party he’d been, well invited to, wasn’t just out of time, but out of place as well.

Clockwork said that that incident had pulled him to the bonfire had dragged him between timelines as well, which Danny took to mean more like it was an alternate universe from his own, and the longer CW took to answer his ensuing questions kept making his head spin.

“If people are just gonna be able to summon me all the time, is there a way to stop it? I can’t just be dragged away all the time, I’ve got homework! And a Doomed tournament!” he had asked, feeling a bit childish as he had floated in the space around Clockworks’s head while the ghost looked onto the cog occupied by aftermath of the bonfire party, and from the cog’s point of view Danny could make out a few unconscious bodies in various sleeping positions around the extinguished fire. 

One girl, slumped against the failing fabric of a folded chair and painfully crimped blond hair spilling over her face, waves a hand in the air, seemingly to swat away some nats in the early morning, only for a particular thing to happen to the air around her hand. 

The air around it wavered like a heatwave, and bugs, previously invisible from the point of view of the cog, now glowed a faint white, and dispersed from the campground area.

“The further you are pulled from your timeline, the more drastic the changes are to your own.” Clockwork had told him.

Danny speedruns away from the cafeteria, and the ensuing excuses his friends have to make to whichever teacher was on lunch duty, and he’s able to dive into a closet moments before the feeling of being dropped into freefall whites out his vision. 

According to Mary Jane (blond crimped hair) it’s quite a sight when Danny got summoned, and he thinks he can kinda connect the dots between what he feels and what everyone else sees as it happens. 

So far each time he’s dropped into a summoning circle it’s always been in ghost form, and this was slightly different as he was still Danny to begin with, which was a great mini heart attack to have when he realized, only for that feeling of weightlessness to wash over him as he’s thrown back into the visible plane. What everyone else sees is the air in the circle to crumple like a piece of paper, and a bright-as-the-sun tear to rip through it. 

From this rift, one small, white, gloved hand reaches through, gripping the crumpled air like a wall and following it shortly with another hand, also reaching through to guide the person attached to them into the room.

From the rift, it’s nearly impossible to really understand what you’re looking at, and it’s not until Danny sets his feet gently on the ground beneath him, like gravity was only a suggestion, that all parties got a good look at eachother.

Now, knowing that you could be anywhere and anywhen for any reason made Danny prepared to be as open minded as possible to keep things from getting out of hand.

He was not prepared for several very buff, brightly colored, costumed adults.

With the spectacle died down, the room was dead silent, and Danny was starting to feel awkward.

He’s dealt with screaming, he’s dealt with groveling, hell he’s even dealt with people trying to sell him their souls. 

The woman in front of him, the one in the middle holding some old looking book, colored a deep green, seemed frozen in time, mouth agape in surprise. He realizes, somewhat belatedly, that she’s dressed in a magicians costume, and was in fact lacking in the pants department.

Current assumption: Costume party gone wrong.

The room he’s been summoned in looks a bit like a meeting room for corporate office stuff, going by the table moved off to the side and stacked chairs.

Revised assumption: Office costume party gone wrong.

Little bit of an older crowd compared to the last party he was invited to, but to their credit there’s been a lot less screaming this time around, maybe the simplest way to get back to lunch is the direct route?

“...Hi?” Ancients, he was bad at this, but in Danny’s defense these guys were giving him nothing! Luckily getting some words out broke the tension.

Unluckily it was not because that tension went away.

“Zatanna, did something go wrong with the spell?” First guy, a big muscled guy in bright blue and red spandex and straight up a cape, talks first, forcing himself next to the magician woman, who clamped her mouth shut with a click of her teeth. 

“N-not possible-”

“It has to be, this is a kid!” Another guy, all in red this time with a hood(???) covering the top half of his face mirrors the first guy looking at the book, much to the annoyance of the magician lady who glares at both of them as they crowd around her.

“Keep your position Flash, this is still an unknown.” Another big guy, all in black with cat ears on (?????) growled out from the corner of the room that Danny didn’t even notice before.

“It’s still a kid! A glowy, floaty, kid but this isn’t some world ending demon.”

“We cannot judge a book by its cover, I suggest we simply ask the child.” Finally, a quite frankly, terrifyingly tall woman spoke up from her corner of the room, and Danny could feel the weight of her gaze on him like it was physical. 

And suddenly all eyes on him once more.

“You guys were trying to get Pariah Dark for your costume party?” Danny might’ve lost the plot a little bit while everyone was talking at once. 

Magician lady snapped her book shut.

“You’re not Pariah Dark?”

“Nope.” Danny says, popping the “p” and leaning back on his heels. “And you should probably stop trying to summon the guy, he’s kinda a pain to deal with, plus you’re gonna have to try harder to jailbreak him than that.” Talk about judging a book by its cover, these guys had to be the most brightly colored cultists he’s ever met.

“Pariah Dark’s been imprisoned?” Cat ears growls out again, and Danny thinks that if he’s sick he probably shouldn’t have shown up for a summoning party.

“Uh yeah, has been for a while? Well, got out, was put back in again- sorry, so what’s with the costumes?” Yeah he’s gotta ask now it’s starting to get distracting.

“Our apologies-” Tall lady again, she moves from her corner to circle around to stand in front of the rest of the group to be face-to-face with him, only a few inches from the chalk lines written on the stiff gray carpet. “We haven’t done proper introductions yet, if you wouldn’t mind extending some grace to us, I am called Wonder Woman and my associates…” She nodded behind her, and the magician woman stepped up with the book in hand. “Sorry, yes, my name is Zatanna, and behind me is Superman and Flash, Batman’s the guy in the corner over there-” “Hng.” “-Don’t let ‘em scare you, we were just, well. Caught off guard a bit.” She fiddled with one of her white gloves and Danny feels a bit like he got someone else’s invite to a birthday party.

“You would’ve been less caught off guard if the tyrannical ghost king showed up in your office instead?” Danny can’t help but ask.

Zatanna pursed her lips together in a tight line at that, and with an impressive face of consideration she glances from the tall lady (these people have such weird names) and back to him. 

“You’re a resident of the infinite realms right?” She levels her own question at him, and Danny hums, kicking both his feet off the ground and floating a few feet above where he was standing and taps a finger to his chin consideringly and kicking one leg over the other so he was essentially reclined on nothing but air.

“I wonder what could’ve gave that away…” He theatrically sighs, and when he side eyes the group again the stupid shtick did its job and everyone looked a little less likely to start throwing things at him. Except the dude in the corner, he just looked the same. Broody.

“But yeah, you dragged me through the ghost zone with that thing,” Danny continues, nodding to the book in the woman’s hand, “But you won’t be able to get Pariah.”

The flashy guy, or the flash or something, went from being 10 feet away from Zatanna to 1 in less than the blink of an eye, which is enough to sufficiently distract Danny enough to not pay attention to what he hissed in her ear, which was “Did you kidnap a dead teenager Zatanna?”

Zatanna did something with her hand and Flash was suddenly very busy dealing with his jaw being locked closed.

“Sorry, just to clarify, we aren’t trying to summon Pariah Dark to end the world or something, we were going to try and stop it! According to some rumors, he had been released and the crown and ring had once again been claimed for the throne, something like that you understand could be devastating, not just in our world but yours too! I have a spell here that could potentially weaken him, and we could work to keep him from getting out again-”

“But he’s already locked up.”

“It’s your word against many, I’ve spoken to others from your realm, they all say the same, that the king has returned!” Ah. Not great. 

Danny lets himself fall back to the ground with a dull thud and holds out a hand for the book.

Wonder Woman raises an eyebrow at the bold gesture and Zatanna regards him with a level of distrust.

“What exactly are you trying to prove- hey!” Wonder Woman plucks the book from her arms, keeping it out of reach of the shorter woman until she holds it out to Danny, just outside the circle.

Danny steps over the chalk lines with ease and takes the book.

Zatanna and Superman both inhale sharply at the motion, and Flash made a muttered sound of alarm, Danny ignored them to instead see if there would be any reaction from the big lady, she was clearly the one in charge. 

“You could have left the circle at any point, correct?” she asks him, and Danny nods.

“You guys should stop looking for Pariah Dark, or to summon him, even if you got lucky and got him here, I doubt you have the power to hold him back.” Danny hopes he sounds serious enough to not be taken lightly, he opens up the book and flicks through it when Wonder Woman’s face becomes distant and she nodded, glancing over to the Batman guy.

It’s nearly all in ghost writing, something Danny’s still not great with, and going by the sticky notes pressed between the pages the magician woman only translated about a fourth of the book, and the translation wasn’t exact going by Danny’s own knowledge and what was written down. Oh well, he should probably see if Clockwork knows what to do with it. 

Danny snaps the book closed and sticks it in his chest like he would with his thermos, partially to keep anyone else from trying to take it back and partially to watch the various reactions of horror from the adults.

“Like I said, you guys don’t need to worry about him anymore anyways, so if that’s sorted I’ll leave you to your uh- well whatever you guys do?” Danny says, backing away back to the chalk lines in the carpet, if he can rub his boot into the chalk, he might be able to break the right line to send him back. He’s paused by a cartoon ripping noise coming from the red guy.

With probably a bit too much dramatics put into it, Flash breathes a great big grasp of fresh air as his jaw comes free. Near Danny, Zatanna rolls her eyes.

“Ok! Hold on a second kid! I don’t know about the rest of you guys but there’s still WAY too many questions we’ve got to just let you leave yet, with our stuff in the first place!” 

In the blink of an eye Flash is in front of him, glaring down like Danny’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“I mean this isn’t technically yours, you guys can’t even read it!” He protested, taking another step back.

“You don’t need to tower over him, Flash, he's still just a kid.” Superman piped up, “What are you gonna do to him, throw him out the airlock?” Airlock? 

“Don’t be stupid ghosts don’t need to breathe, besides, wouldn't throwing him out in space be the same as telling him to go home!” Space???

“The infinite realms aren’t in space Flash it’s another layer of reality all together-” Zatanna is cut off as Danny drops through the floor.

For every layer of dense machinery and the occasional yell of surprise, Danny knows what he’s looking for the moment he drops through the last layer and finds himself looking down at Earth from a fucking spaceship.

Danny was definitely very cool and chill about being face to face with one of his biggest dreams.

He definitely didn’t let out the soundless scream of a teenager and do half a dozen laps around the perimeter of the station (Yes he knew after the first lap that it technically wasn’t a spaceship, but wow was it a LOT more advanced than ANYTHING he had seen in NASA’s magazines). 

What finally paused him from flying around like a kid in a candy store was surveying the stars around him, and that’s exactly where Batman found him.

Danny didn’t see him at first, and didn’t expect to either, as thick metal shutters raised on the wall he had thought was just a wall, and instead revealed a foot of glass, and the room that Batman was now in. 

It was the light that had Danny turning back to the station, shifting from where he had been sitting, cross-legged in space. When he turns, Batman nods his head to the space next to him in the hall. Danny sighs, and phases through the glass, dropping down to stand on his feet.

“You really don’t need to worry about Pariah anymore he-”

“Was defeated by you.” The older man rumbles out, he looks out the window to space, like he doesn’t need to see Danny’s reaction to know his response. Danny opens his mouth to protest, but it dies when Batman levels that look to Danny, and he’s really not able to read it at all, but with his mouth set into a hard line, Danny could almost say he looks grim.

“Uh, yeah, technically. Honestly it’s kinda… Complicated.”

“And now you’re the new Ghost King.” Danny’s boots have become incredibly interesting all of the sudden.

“...It’s complicated.” The first person for Danny to talk to about the Ghost king deal other than Clockwork and it’s a guy in a bat fursuit, lovely.

There’s a beat of silence and Danny wonder’s if Mr dark and broody is going to ask him more, but he seems to think better of it, because he instead turns back to the window.

“...Is it your first time being out in space like this?” The change in topic is a bit out of left field, but not unappreciated, as Danny looks back up to the window with lights in his eyes.

“Yes! Well, kinda? The ghost zone- er infinite realms, are kinda like space, just a lot greener with a bunch of purple doors that could go anywhere! And I’ve flown all the way up to some satellites in the past but I’ve never been on a spaceship or a space station before! Some of this technology is incredible, nothing like my pa-” Danny clears his throat, purposefully not looking back to see if the slip was noticed. “And uh, the stars here are different.”

“Different?” 

“Shifted, some of the constellations I know aren’t there. While I was out there I uh, well I guess I was making up new ones.” He finished, a little embarrassed. 

Batman just hums an affirmative rumble.

“The others aren’t upset about me taking off right? Sorry, I guess I just got a bit excited, I can still answer any other questions you guys wanted to ask.” 

“You don’t need to apologize, Flash shouldn’t have tried to antagonize you. Besides, you’ve already given us the answers we needed, I told Zatanna to start redrawing the circle to send you back home.”

Batman says this to no one, because in that same breath, he’s found himself in a crumpled pile of brooms, mops and buckets.

And he’s missed his lunch hour.

[tomorrowxtogether]

BEOMGYU: “We’re a team, so I want to work together to make it happen”

TOMORROW X TOGETHER The Name Chapter: FREEFALL comeback interview

2023.10.27

Eight months earlier, BEOMGYU told us he didn’t want to lose to himself. Now he says he’s found a way to persevere.

You mentioned you were very happy and healthy throughout the second tour.

BEOMGYU: I didn’t get bogged down by the fear of what happened that one time. I was determined to overcome it. I did plenty of preparing physically and mentally in order to avoid a repeat of last time and handled everything well. I envied the other members of the group during the last tour and was sad that I couldn’t fully enjoy the concert experience due to my physical condition. I put all my worries aside this time and just focused on performing and I was a lot happier.

Have you mastered how to handle yourself in the face of extremes and how to overcome them?

BEOMGYU: Even though it was tough, things still worked out in the end, so I thought, Everything’s fine—it’s not like I’m going to die. (laughs) I kept experimenting by trying different things to check if I still felt my best after. I tried not eating before concerts, drinking energy drinks some days, taking arginine on other days. In the end, I found it’s always best to eat and having one multivitamin is enough to give me energy without putting a strain on my body. It’s like I found my own personal winning formula. (laughs)

Have the positive emotions you experienced during the tour carried over to have an effect on your everyday life? You mentioned in a previous interview that you felt like you had attained spiritual enlightenment. (laughs)

BEOMGYU: I mean, I’m happy. (laughs) Not a lot has changed, but while I felt like I was in a sort of state of nirvana back then, now I feel like I’m taking care of what I have to do every single day and accepting things for what they are—just going with the flow. These days I keep thinking, even if I don’t understand something, it’ll all turn out okay in the end if I just go with the flow. At the end of the day, I’ll just go home and get some sleep. All things shall pass. And then I feel fine. There’s no reason to get all worked up about things and let them get to me.

I guess that’s what you meant when you said that—“all things shall pass”—during the tour, which turned out to be like a catchphrase for you.

BEOMGYU: Exactly. But I was trying to make myself believe that before and pushing myself, whereas now it’s how I really feel.

It seems like you’re continuing to live the life of an artist as you overcome those things that you feel you just aren’t naturally compatible with.

BEOMGYU: I was absolutely born for the stage, though. No matter how nervous I get, I always have a phenomenal time once I get on up there. But what I found emotionally draining once we got on tour was that every place in the world has different views and I had to learn to adjust quickly to those. That was a difficult process. Not to mention I became a lot more introverted after we debuted, so I found it really hard communicating with all those people while promoting internationally. The pressure from that kept weighing on me while we were touring. But we did similar promotions recently and I went out of my way this time to go up to people more and reacted to things in over-the-top ways despite my terrible English. (laughs) But it was pretty good. I think I’ve learned some ways to overcome things.

Have you also changed the way you recover and distribute your energy now that you’ve been to so many different environments?

BEOMGYU: That part’s still the same. I get in, drink some barley tea (laughs) and fall asleep watching Netflix. I’m the type to pour 100% of my energy into everything I do. I try to be as energetic as possible whether I’m on a variety show or performing on stage, so my batteries are always going from 100, down to 0, back to 100, to 0, and on and on. (laughs)

And the stages you performed on keep changing, too. There's something new to grasp and adjust to every time, so you must have to be hyper focused.

BEOMGYU: Interestingly, if you perform 30 times, you’d think it would be easier by the 30th time. But if you keep doing the same thing over and over? Then you actually start to mix things up. I don’t know if it has something to do with complacency, but I make mistakes more frequently as time goes on. So the more you go on, the more you have to really focus on each performance. The idea is to never mess up the parts that have changed or I’ve messed up once before, ever again.

It’s amazing how you took the most impressive moves in “Back for More” and made them that much better by putting your own spin on them.

BEOMGYU: I think I mentioned before that, when I first hear a song and see the choreography demo, I can picture things, like how to convey certain parts, or maybe if it would look cool if I looked away like this. It can be a little hard to explain because it’s all in my head. I thought a lot about the part in the chorus after the second verse where we jump up and whip our hands in particular to figure out how to make it look cooler.

And were you satisfied with what you landed on?

BEOMGYU: Yes! But I always end up liking what I do. (laughs) I’m really proud of it. (laughs)

You said before that you watched your old dance videos to prepare for the tour and that you found a lot of parts that weren’t up to your standards. Do you feel you improved while learning the single “Chasing That Feeling”?

BEOMGYU: I used to be obsessed with putting the maximum amount of energy into my dance moves. Then I got some messages from friends after the year-end awards shows, saying, “You were too intense. You should tone it down a bit.” I thought the best thing for those big performances was to put more and more energy into them, but lately I’m trying to dance in a more balanced and elegant way. The choreography for the new single isn’t that intensive, so I picked it up really quickly, but I know I have to practice how to express myself in a greater variety of ways. I always feel like, if I perform something live once, it’s a lot different from when I’m practicing to get the hang of it. I think it all becomes clear after performing it.

You struggled a bit singing the last album’s single because of the pronunciation. Did you face any similar challenges this time around?

BEOMGYU: There’s a line in the verse—“cheonguk-eul deungjin nan”—and to make that eu sound in the syllable deung, you have to narrow the inside of your mouth. I tried singing it 10 times, and missed the mark 10 times. But then, I once again attained enlightenment. (laughs) Now when I sing it, my voice never cracks. I figured out how to shape my mouth to pronounce it correctly and persevered. I wasn’t originally supposed to be the one to sing that part, but as soon as I heard the song, I said, “I have to be the one to do this! Can I? Please, just trust me. Give me a chance. I’ll make it work.” And I got the part. So I studied the part carefully to make sure I could get it done no matter what.

Songs that align with your vibe, like “Deep Down” and “Skipping Stones,” really bring out what makes your voice so alluring.

BEOMGYU: I’m especially fond of “Skipping Stones,” and most of the other songs off the album are all in genres and styles I like, so it was really fun to record the vocals. Sometimes I’ve done things where I thought, This doesn’t really let me show off my vocals, but I think the new album let me sing in a way that’s closest to my natural voice.

Are there also songs you helped write the lyrics to that you find easier to get into since they’re in your style?

BEOMGYU: The songs I find the easiest to get into are those where the emotions are most realistic and I can be honest about my feelings. For example, thanks to my own personal experiences, I can take on topics like liking someone or dealing with difficult emotions and add my own personal touch to them. But songs that are like The Star Seekers are written to conform perfectly to a theme. Was that a really T thing to say? (laughs) To be honest, I feel like I’ve already said everything I have to say about seeking stars, going through hardship, and growing up on repeat. (laughs) But I really liked writing “Blue Spring” since it’s truly about us.

You also produced that song. How did that go?

BEOMGYU: I pictured people singing along to it right from the outset, so I purposely gave it simple chords when starting out. There’s three or so songs I made while just playing around on guitar at home. We spent hours poring over chords in the studio, too, but I ultimately chose the track I made at home. “Maze in the Mirror” and “Blue Spring” are both about how I felt before and after knowing MOA. As you know, we went through a lot of hardship, and now we’re out there singing for all of them. I remember how hard those chilly blue days were, but I also know how happy I am now, so the song really tugs at my heartstrings. I have to hold back my tears whenever we sing the line, “No one knows about that winter,” in concert.

You’ve seen MOA as your best friend for a long time now, but when I watch your most recent Weverse Lives, I get the feeling that you want to have an emotionally closer relationship with them based on how you keep your streams laid-back.

BEOMGYU: I think it’s better to be natural and keep it real when I do Lives by myself than to be TOMORROW X TOGETHER’s very own BEOMGYU. Sometimes I just, you know, put my phone down next to me with music playing like a radio or something, lie down, and start talking. All I want from my relationship with MOA is to have honest, human conversations—not artist-to-fan conversations, but casual, natural conversations.

It's a dead giveaway that you’re looking to have a genuine relationship with them when you let MOA listen in on your phone conversation with your mom in the middle of a Live. (laughs)

BEOMGYU: I want to show them how I really live. (laughs) I can show MOA the kind of chemistry I have with other people. I’m always quick to call my mom when the other members pull a “Tallulah” on me. I don’t like that my mom doesn’t take my side, but I know she’s just having fun. (laughs)

TAEHYUN once said you have a knack where “he can talk and everyone would not find him annoying.” It seems to me like you already know the others will still find you cute no matter what kind of annoying jokes you play.

BEOMGYU: I’m good at walking that tightrope. (laughs) I was born with it. (laughs) I’m always messing around with SOOBIN, too, but if I think he’s being serious, I back off right away. I can usually tell how someone’s feeling just by the look in their eyes, so I intuitively keep my balance while walking that tightrope. (laughs)

What are you like when you’re with your family? It seems like your dad really means a lot to you, seeing as, when you were asked if you could live as someone else for a day, who would it be, you answered, “my dad.”

BEOMGYU: I’m better behaved when I’m with my family, and I like chatting with my mom and dad. We can talk for hours when we talk about the things they want to know about me, things I want to know about them—that kind of stuff. Like I always say, if I ever become a dad, I want to be just like mine. He’s considerate, and he and my mom are still like a new couple. They’re so cool. I even told that to my dad recently and he said, “Thank you for being my son and for growing up into a wonderful young man.” We still say “I love you” to each other. Our family’s full of love. (laughs)

I remember you said that you kept looking for MOA and their dads watching your concerts together.

BEOMGYU: Most likely those dads were there because their daughters or sons like us and they tagged along. I thought it was really cool that they were right there with them having a good time. I spent a lot of time with my dad when I was younger, too. One time I woke up at three in the morning and went all the way out to Taebaek with him to watch motor racing, and we would play soccer or baseball together before school. It’s experiences like that that let me know how good those memories are going to be for MOA when they look back on them someday.

You’ve said the other members of the group are like a second family to you. It was especially touching when you were nervous before going on stage and you said, “When I’m with the other members, I’m not worried.”

BEOMGYU: I was actually three times as nervous for our performance at the MTV Video Music Awards than any other concert. My heart wasn’t going ba-bum, ba-bum—it was going babumbabumbabumbabum. But right before we got on stage, we put our hands all together and yelled, “Fighting!” And then we hugged each other. That really brought me comfort. The other members are the only ones I can lean on whenever I find myself in that kind of unfamiliar, difficult environment. When I see one of them having a hard time, I feel like I should put my own problems aside for a while and work harder for their sake. And I think that’s all possible because we’re a family.

Is that also why you decided to work together to reach the very top, like YEONJUN and TAEHYUN talked about on SUCHWITA?

BEOMGYU: I had a really hard time during and after our first world tour, and I was certain that, unless I’m healthy, there would be no point in making it to the top. I was firm about that. So if I’m being honest, I felt pressure because of YEONJUN and TAEHYUN’s vision. I’m the kind of person who strives for happiness in his everyday life, but they said they feel like making it to the top is what would make them feel happy. What could I do? We’re a team, after all. We work together for the sake of each other’s happiness. I thought it over and said, We’re a team, so I want to work together to make it happen. If that’s what everyone wants, I’ll work hard alongside you. Let’s put in the effort and make it to the top.

That makes me think of how you made a point to say you like movies to have a happy ending no matter what.

BEOMGYU: I don’t like when they’re left open-ended, and I can’t stand sad endings. I get completely absorbed in the plot of movies and all the emotions there when I watch them, so it feels like I am the main character. I root for that character with all I’ve got and hope they’re happy ever after.

And you see the happy ending you wished for in your future, don’t you?

BEOMGYU: It certainly feels like I’m moving towards it. (laughs)

[littlebvtterfly]

Niche questions for my guy Wyatt? <3

YAY Wyatt, thank you so much @rose-of-oz! Also going to tag @dancingsunflowers-ocs and @luucypevensie!

a song that reminds me of them: Wake Me up When September Ends by Green Day

what they smell like: Pine needles, hazel, and generally like woodsy scents.

an otp: Wyatt x Kurt!

a notp: Wyatt x Sabine (besties only)!

favorite platonic/familial relationships: Wyatt x Sabine, Wyatt x Sam, Wyatt x Mouse!

a headcanon that is popular in the fandom but that i disagree with: n/a

the position they sleep in: In the freefaller position.

a crossover au i’d love to see them in: I could see a crossover with your Bruno Keeley. Maybe also with @dancingsunflowers-ocs Ariel Berry!

my favorite outfit they’ve ever worn

[ruvviks]

trembling hands for vitali? 👀👀

TREMBLING HANDS [x] characters >> nick vossler (oc), vitali dobrynin (oc) context >> november 2067; it's the morning after this fic takes place, vitali is in college and in general not dealing with everything that's going on in his life well total >> 2.2k words warnings >> alcohol mention, drugs mention, nick being a bit of a dick in general, nsfw mention, portrayal of a toxic relationship (these men make each other worse)

The old and decrepit apartment building in the Glen was freezing cold. Not all that surprising for that time of the year; and stacking overdue electric bills had put an end to Vitali’s access to the place’s central heating, but he was not allowed to complain. If anything, he was lucky to still be able to call it his home at all to begin with.

He woke up with a throbbing headache and a heavy weight pressing down on his chest, and despite the good amount of sleep he had managed to get he still found himself struggling to properly wake up. His ailments were the result of mostly dehydration- though taking the amount of drugs and alcohol in his system the night before, it was safe to assume it was not the only problem at play.

Vitali rarely suffered terrible hangovers. Nothing a glass of water and an ibuprofen couldn’t fix; and whenever he had classes the next morning he still always showed up on time, wearing his best fake smile as always and a mood that was still of questionable quality but never worse than it usually was.

Though that morning was different.

The bleak sunlight that poured in from underneath the curtain of the single window in the living room barely raised the temperature inside his apartment. All it did was cast a single, bright ray of sunshine directly into Vitali’s eyes, an annoyance greater than his comfort on the twin size mattress on the floor to the point he found himself unable to fall back asleep.

He groaned and carefully rolled himself on his side, dragging the covers with him as he slowly attempted to get up. His entire body was sore; had not slept in the greatest position, but the sex he’d had with Nick the night before- pressed against the wall of the expensive nightclub’s hallway- had absolutely not helped either, and the moment he finally managed to stand up he nearly sank through his knees again from the pain in his upper right leg.

Consequences of his own actions.

Vitali knew better than to wallow in his misery, well aware he had caused it entirely himself, no one else to blame. It was not as if he would learn; next week he would make the same old mistakes all over again, a broken record doomed to play on repeat until his trembling hands would lose their grip entirely and he would spiral down into a freefall.

He managed to find his way to the kitchen, still wrapped in the covers as he opened one of the mismatched cupboards to look for a clean cup; could not find any and instead took a dirty one out of the sink, rinsing it a few times before pouring himself some apple juice.

His gaze caught his phone as he brought the glass to his lips, the cracked and dirty screen lighting up from the kitchen countertop beside his keys and wallet and showing- nineteen unread messages and eleven missed calls?

‘What the fuck?’ he mumbled under his breath, lowering the glass again and setting it back as he grabbed his phone instead, blanket over his shoulders dropping down on the floor.

Unsurprisingly so, all of it was Nick’s doing. It would not be the first time he had obsessively tried to get Vitali’s attention; far from it, in fact, a man desperate for validation as well as forgiveness each and every time he had done something wrong. Though as far as Vitali was concerned, nothing out of the ordinary had happened when they’d seen each other in the club- and his curiosity was winning over his exasperation.

Naturally, he did not hesitate when Nick’s name popped up in the middle of his screen again.

‘What do you fucking want?’ Vitali asked, voice possibly a little harsher than he had meant for as he quickly pulled his half-opened flannel back over his exposed shoulder when he heard loud knocking on the front door. Nick did not respond at first- and Vitali quickly figured out why, swinging the door open and instantly being met with the other man, holding up his own phone with an annoyed frown on his face.

‘Eleven fuckin’ times, V,’ he said, lowering his hand at the same time as Vitali did. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘Twelve, actually, counting this one,’ Vitali simply spat back, demonstratively hanging up and tossing his phone back on the kitchen counter from where he stood. ‘And you’re the one showing up at my place at fuck o’clock in morning.’

‘It’s two in the afternoon!’

‘Same thing.’

Nick cursed under his breath and stepped inside, tugging on Vitali’s flannel- drawing a protesting, somewhat startled scoff from his lips- to then button it all the way to the top.

‘You need to learn to put on some clothes,’ he muttered, brushing some of Vitali’s hair out of his face to prevent it from getting stuck between the buttons. A surprisingly gentle touch; Vitali sometimes forgot he was still capable of that, after everything that had happened.

‘I’m wearing clothes.’ Vitali paused, noticing Nick’s eyeroll and he punched his shoulder in response, not too hard but not being playful either. ‘Comfort of my own home! Get out if you don’t like it.’

‘More clothes,’ Nick sneered, gesturing at Vitali’s mostly naked legs. ‘And wear ‘em properly. I could see your tits.’

‘So? You’ve seen them before. Did not hear you complain yesterday.’

‘It’s freezing in here!’

‘What’s your fucking point, Nick?!’

Vitali’s voice nearly echoed through the whole hallway behind the other man and silence washed over the apartment, both of them taking a few steps back at the same time. Vitali watched as Nick clenched his jaw and briefly turned around to close the front door, then vaguely gestured around into the room.

‘Was worried,’ he said, and shrugged. ‘Didn’t hear anything from you when I texted if you got home safely. Jackie couldn’t tell me where you were. Jen has me blocked now, wasn’t of any fuckin’ use either- no idea what that’s all about. Where did you go?’

Vitali was not entirely sure how to answer him.

He could barely remember it, was the truth. Everything that had happened after he had walked away from Nicky in that sweaty and suffocating hallway was merely a blur to him now, though he did remember spending another good hour or two stumbling around before he had been able to find his way to the exit.

He vaguely remembered the rain; could vaguely recall getting soaked and taking a cab elsewhere, the air-conditioning inside freezing him down to the bone. He had not gone home yet- had needed more to be able to forget, to wash off the feeling of Nick’s hands on his body and to drown out the voice in his head screaming at him to stop and go home, get his act together while he still could.

‘Took the long way home, I guess,’ he finally managed to say, hesitance dripping from his lips with each and every word he spoke and Nick’s eyes narrowed a little.

‘Couldn’t find a moment to text me back?’ he asked.

‘Did not think you’d care.’

‘Oh, that’s foul.’

‘Usually you don’t. I don’t know what you want me to say.’

Another silence as a sharp, exasperated sigh left Nick’s lips and he averted his gaze to the ceiling. Acting annoyed, but on the losing end- Vitali was right and both parties knew that very well, Nick’s sudden concern entirely out of the blue considering he usually left his phone off for several days after an argument.

‘Why are you really here?’ Vitali asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest and taking another step back, keeping as much distance between himself and the other man as possible. Not out of fear; moreso disgust, unable to believe he’d let Nick do whatever he wanted to him, again, the money much needed but the aftermath and the memories of it embarrassing him to his core in a way he hadn’t even known was possible.

Maybe Jenny was right this time.

Not as if that mattered much. She hadn’t reached out to him at all anymore.

‘I just- wanted to apologize for yesterday,’ Nick mumbled in response. ‘Wasn’t all too nice to you, from what I remember.’

‘You weren’t, no.’ Vitali paused, licked his lips, and gestured at Nick. ‘Go ahead. Apologize.’

‘I just did.’

‘You didn’t.’

‘Fucking hell, Dobrynin-!’

‘What! Saying you want to apologize is not the same as apologizing-’

‘You’re so fucking pretentious, you know that?’

The sharp edge to Nick’s voice made Vitali scoff and he sucked in a shallow breath, adrenaline rushing through his system until the hairs on his arms stood up straight. His body was bracing itself; not expecting a physical blow- even Nick knew better than to sink that low- simply another mental one, a blow to his ego he would carry with him into the next week until his next mistake would come along and take its place.

‘Maybe you’re right,’ Nick bluntly said and threw up his hands in exasperation. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t’ve come. You’re not making it very easy to be worried about you, you know that? And then one day when you do need the help I won’t be here. No one will.’

‘Right, because every time before today when you weren’t there for me by your own fucking choice, that could not have happened, of course,’ Vitali mockingly replied and gestured at the door. ‘You are just trying to cover for yourself now. Get out if you don’t have anything nice to say.’

‘I love you.’

The statement caught Vitali a little off guard and he slowly lowered his hands, standing unmoving as Nick walked closer to him and cupped his face in both hands, strands of Vitali’s long, bleached hair getting caught between his fingers.

‘I love you,’ he quietly repeated himself, thumbs running in circles over Vitali’s cheeks, ‘and I just wish you’d let me.’

Vitali’s eyes slowly moved over Nick’s face- the little marks covering his cheekbones, the acne scarring roughening the skin of his cheeks and jaw, the little bump in his nose caused by a broken bone that had not healed all too well-

He reminded him of Mikhail, sometimes.

But they were not the same.

‘I’ve given you enough chances and you walk away every single fucking time,’ Vitali quietly replied, moving up his hand to place it over Nick’s and he softly kissed his palm. ‘What do I need to do to make you stay?’

Nick couldn’t answer. And Vitali knew that.

Both of them had fucked up more than enough times; both had walked away before, justified, sometimes not, in the heat of the moment or when things just got a little too boring for their liking. They got annoyed about everything they were and fought about everything they were not and instead of talking things out like normal people they would get drunk, get naked, and pretend like nothing had happened the next day.

‘You’re complicated,’ Nick finally said, gently brushing some of Vitali’s hair out of his face.

‘So are you,’ Vitali merely replied, making a biting motion at Nick’s hand who in response cupped his face and leaned in closer to kiss him, a somewhat metallic taste to his lips Vitali could not quite place.

‘I love you,’ he mumbled into the kiss, slowly draping his arms over Nick’s shoulders and pulling him closer until there was no space left between their bodies. He broke the kiss and buried his face in the crook of Nick’s neck- and the other man reciprocated the hug, one hand on Vitali’s back and the other in his hair.

‘Have somethin’ to eat, take it easy today,’ he quietly said, slowly pulling back and fixing the collar of Vitali’s flannel. ‘I’ll see you again tomorrow, okay?’

‘Okay.’

The silences that followed were always the worst.

Watching Nick walk away again, leave through that very same door he had only just arrived through and wishing he would stop, come back inside, stay just a little longer. Whether Vitali had fucked it up for himself this time or not, he was no longer sure; it was impossible to tell what Nick’s true intentions were. Vitali usually was nothing more than a stopover to him.

And of course he wished it was different. If he could have it his way, Nick wasn’t such an asshole all the time. Wouldn’t just be using him for his own pleasure, wouldn’t just come and go as he pleased without taking Vitali’s feelings into account. And in return, Vitali wouldn’t have to return the attitude.

Had Nick even started it all? He wasn’t all that sure anymore.

Vitali scoffed at nobody in particular and walked through the room to the window, sitting himself down on the windowsill to stare outside. He was still cold, but it did not do anything to him anymore- his head was elsewhere, and the shivers running up and down his spine were the least of his worries.

At least I’ll see him again tomorrow.

At least he would always come back.

[bubbly-parker]

Best Friends don't do this

~Stiles x Reader Best Friends to Lovers~

warnings: Angst, family fights, bullying by family member(grandma), body insecurities, plus size reader, f reader, SMUT: face sitting, oral both m and f receiving, fingering, unprotected sex (WRAP UP) 18+ NO MINORS I'll tell your Mom! Stiles and Y/N are 18 yo in this and in their last year of highschool.

summary: After another nasty comment about your body by your grandma you stormed out of the house, your best friend Stiles picked you up and decided that today would be the night he shows you how hot you really are.

probably like 5-6k words ? just guessing here

spoiler : Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful

a/n: my insomnia is kicking my ass rn, I have an exam in 5 hours its 3 am and I can't sleep so enjoy, also if things don't make the most sense in some parts of the story it's because it is 3am- the ending was rushed i have no brain energy left to think of a real ending I'll revisit this story in the next few days and fix it if necessary enjoy and don't forget to please reblog if you liked it and leave a request right here

"So, Do you want to talk about it?" Stiles asked, looking over to you in his passenger seat.He could tell you were in a sour mood before he even picked you up.

You were rounding the street, leaving your house behind. You didn't want to answer at all; tears were already burning behind your eyes, threatening to spill. "No" was all you managed to choke out before your tears started freefalling. You hung your head low, watching your tears drop on your lap.

Stiles had no idea what was going on; just a few hours ago after school, he dropped you off at home, and you had a bright smile on your face knowing your family was over for a visit and you hadn't seen most of them since moving to Beacon Hill with your parents two years ago. In the last two years, Stiles and you have grown inseparable; he's the best friend you could have ever asked for, so when you texted him at 1 in the morning asking him to come to pick you up, he knew something was off. He could always tell.

It wasn't unusual for you two to go on late-night drives, but the way you had conveyed your message seemed off immediately: "You need to come pick me up right now." Stiles didn't hesitate; he threw on whatever clothes he could find and took an extra hoodie with him, sneaking past his dad and out into the cold night air. He tossed the extra hoodie onto Roscoe's back seat, knowing you probably didn't even put a jacket on. And he was right, driving towards your house. He saw your silhouette standing in your driveway, no jacket on, just your PJ shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he swore were missing from his closet. You walked towards the jeep, and when Stiles stopped, you entered without a word, put your seatbelt on, and all you said was a quiet "drive".

Stiles didn't know what to do; you didn't want to talk, but he couldn't stand watching you cry; it made his stomach churn and his chest feel tight in a sickening way. He needed you to be okay.

He reached his right hand over to you, taking your hand that was fidgeting with your shirt in his. You loved the way his fingers wrapped around your hand; it always made butterflies erupt in your stomach, even if he was just doing it to comfort you. You let out a choked sob that went straight to Stiles's heart breaking it a little. "I can't help you feel better if you don't talk to me," Stiles whispered, but the Jeep was so quiet that you understood him perfectly. You knew he was right, and you also knew that if anyone could make you feel better, it was Stiles.

Stiles already had a feeling about what was wrong but didn't want to say anything in case he was wrong. He knew you loved your family, but they could be harsh at times. You told him about a year ago how, especially, your grandma would often give you a hard time because of your weight. He found it ridiculous because a) it was none of your grandma's business what your body looked like, and b) he thought you looked amazing—the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on. He loved holding you close and loved the way your body felt pressed against him. You've slept over at his place multiple times in the last two years, and holding you close as you slept is still his favorite pastime ever. Of course, he told you multiple times that you look amazing either way, but he understands how hard it is to feel comfortable in your own body, especially when your personal bully used to live with you.

Ever since moving away, your relationship with your family has gotten far better. Before, you used to live in one big house with your grandparents, aunt, uncle, and cousins constantly around you.

You wanted to tell Stiles what happened and wanted him to hold you and make it seem like everything was alright, but your grandma's voice kept nagging you: "You better start dropping a few Pounds if you ever want that boy to like you back." That was the first thing she dared say to you as you walked into the house earlier. She had been watching you through the kitchen window as Stiles dropped you off after school.

Anyone could tell how in love you were with Stiles by the way you smiled at him. You'd have to be an absolute idiot to miss it, like Stiles, as Lydia likes to point out; he was one of those absolute idiots, as he doesn't seem to notice your feelings for him. Your mother immediately interfered with your grandmother and told her to back off; they never got along, as she treated your mother with just as much kindness as she showed you, none.

You didn't feel hungry sitting with your family during dinner, and even though your mother had served your favorite lasagna, you could only stomach a little salad from the side dishes before you excused yourself and went back to your room. Part of you knew your grandma was right. Stiles would never like you back in the way that you like him; your name doesn't start with Lyd and end with ia, nor are you a fit strawberry blonde; no, you're about the exact opposite of what Stiles has always desired.

Shortly before you texted Stiles to come pick you up, your grandma had entered your room. You had honestly thought that she would be in bed by now, as you hadn't heard any noise from down the stairs in hours as you kept to yourself in your room. "You know, I am just looking out for you." Your grandmother had started her lecture, a lecture that you are all too familiar with; you've heard it about 250 times by now. She's just looking out for you; she just wants to motivate you to lose some weight; she doesn't want you to end up alone with no man. You never understood where your grandma took her audacity from, considering that she wasn't the skinniest woman herself.

"I saw the way you look at that boy; be real with yourself. Do you really think you'd have a chance with him right now?" Knowing your parents and your family, you couldn't exactly lash out at your grandma, so you did the next best thing you could do, which was only moderately disrespectful: you walked right past her out of your room, put your shoes on, and left the house. You stood in the driveway, and the only person that you wanted to see right now was Stiles. You knew he would pick you up at any time of the day, so you shot him a quick text and ducked yourself into the shadows under a tree in your driveway. You didn't want your grandma to see you, but you knew she was watching again.

Stiles couldn't bear your silence anymore, so he spoke again. This time it startled you, as his voice was more firm and he sounded quite angry. "Was it your grandma?" he asked. Your head shot up, and you looked over at him in disbelief, wondering how he knew. When your eyes met his, they softened; his angry stare was gone. Of course, Stiles knew he always did, didn't he? You weakly nodded your head before looking down at your hand again. You suddenly noticed how cold it was in Roscoe, and you shivered. Stile's hand let go of yours as he reached behind your seat to get his hoodie from the back seat. "Here, I had a feeling you would be freezing," he said as he handed you his hoodie. As you pulled his hoodie over your head, you inhaled Stile's scent deeply, hoping he didn't notice. There was something so intoxicating about Stiles that you didn't know if it was just him in general or if your feelings for him were playing a trick on your mind.

"You know everything your grandma has ever said is not true, right?" You have heard this from many people over the years, but only when Stiles said it did you feel put at ease for a little bit. You sat in comfortable silence, knowing Stiles took over the conversation when you were sad, so you could just listen. "Y/N, I mean it; there's nothing about you that could count as a flaw in the slightest, and I don't know how to make you believe that... Sometimes I just wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so you could realize." Stiles sighed in frustration. You know his frustration wasn't directed at you, but it still made you upset. "Thank you, Stiles," is all you could say.

You leaned your head back against your headrest and closed your eyes. Just now, you noticed that there was music quietly playing in the background. Stiles must have turned it on at some point. It was your playlist, with Until Forever Falls Apart by Ashe playing in the background. You closed your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of driving around.

You were startled when Stiles woke you up. You noticed the Jeep was parked in front of his house. Sometime during the drive, you must have fallen asleep. Stiles still sat across from you in the driver's seat, his hand on your cheek as he slowly stroked across it to wake you up. You felt a yawn make its way across your lips and stretched your legs. Stiles got out and rounded the Jeep, opening your door for you. He held it open as you jumped out. Stiles took your hand as he walked toward the door. You shuffled a little closer, putting your head on his arm. You noticed the sheriff's car was gone. "My dad was called back to the station about an hour ago." Stiles said he had noticed you staring at the empty spot where the sheriff's car usually stood. Once inside, you made your way to Stiles's room; according to his alarm clock, it was almost 2 a.m. Stiles must have been driving a bunch of circles around the city while you were asleep. You made a mental note to quickly steal Roscoe tomorrow and fill his tank for Stiles.

You took your shoes off and crawled into Stiles's bed. You heard him shuffle around behind you like he was searching for something, but you just wanted to lie down. A few seconds late, you felt Stiles get in bed behind you, his chest pressed to yours as his arms sneaked around your waist. At first, you hated when Stiles touched your stomach, but at first, you were also not used to cuddling with a boy in general. To anybody walking in, you two would seem like more than just friends, and the thought of that made your heart race. As you lay in silence, you once again noticed music playing in the background. Stiles must have looked for his speakers; your favorite playlist was quietly playing from the direction of his desk.

Stiles's hand sneaked under your, or well, his, hoodie, and he laid it right under your breast on top of your pajama shirt. Suddenly you noticed how hot it was getting under the hoodie and blanket, but you didn't dare move to take it off out of fear Stiles would move back.

Stiles shifted slightly behind you and buried his head in your neck. While you were absentmindedly intertwining your legs, you swore you could feel something poke you from behind. Your eyes widened. You have felt Stiles boner against you before a few times in the mornings and always just shrugged it off as morning wood. You felt Stiles move a little again when he whispered "I'm sorry" right in the nape of your neck. You didn't know how to react as goosebumps covered your skin and a shiver ran down your spine. You thought Stiles would move away from you, but instead, he pulled you in, making you gasp out when you felt his hard-on fully pressed against you.

Stile's head was still buried in your neck when you felt him slightly lift it and press a kiss right between your neck and shoulder. Another shiver wrecked your body as you turned your head slightly to look Stiles in the eyes; he had fully lifted his head, looking down on you.

Stiles didn't know where his sudden boost in confidence had come from, but ever since he saw your tear-filled eyes in the car, he wanted to confess his feelings to you and make you feel beautiful. Usually, when he got a boner around you, he would run off to the bathroom and take care of it, but right now, he wanted you to feel what you do to him.

He felt like he was about to explode with the way you were looking up at him—your big doe eyes, pupils blown wide, and lips gaping. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you.

You couldn't make out what you saw in Stiles's eyes right now; his dark eyes were almost black. "I really want to kiss you right now." Stiles's raspy voice said in a whisper that had your breath stuck. When you didn't respond, he moved his head a little closer to your ear. "Can I?" he asked again in a whisper. You could only nod your head. That's when Stiles removed his hand from under your hoodie to cup your face. When his lips finally met yours, you were sure time had stopped. You felt a new set of goosebumps rise on your skin as you kissed Stiles back eagerly, and you both smiled into the kiss when Stiles suddenly moved back. He pushed you back to lay flat on your back as he climbed in between your legs before kissing you again.

He couldn't believe that he was actually kissing you, mentally thanking every god out there for today. Stiles ground your crotches together, which ripped a loud moan from you. You turned your head away, embarrassed by what just happened. You felt Stiles heavy breathing. He took your face back in his hand and turned your head so you would look at him again. He looked heavenly; you can't believe what just happened.

"I've been wanting to do that for two years."

With these few words, Stiles had your whole world crumbling as tears slowly started falling from your eyes. You stared up at Stiles as he slowly started to panic, not knowing what he had done wrong. You couldn't stop the tears from falling. For the past two years, you thought that Stiles only saw you as a friend, when he might have wanted you just the way you wanted him. "Y/N, I'm so incredibly sorry. I didn't want to cross any boundaries. I- I m so stupid." Stiles started to sit back and move away from you when you reached for his arm to hold him still. You still had tears in your eyes, but you couldn't stop a smile from stretching across your face. "And I've been waiting for you to do that for the past two years, you idiot." Now, it was Stiles's turn to look absolutely shocked and dumbfounded at the same time. "HuuH?" was the only thing he managed to get past his lips. You laughed at him and leaned forward, reconnecting your lips. You felt like a heavy weight was lifted off your chest. A lump in your throat that you didn't know was there dissipated, and when Stiles started kissing you back, you finally wrapped your arm around his neck. Stiles deepened the kiss, asking for permission with his tongue, which you happily granted.

Stiles groaned into your mouth when he finally got to kiss you the way he wanted to for so long, and when you pushed your hips up to grind against him, he swore he lost his sanity. His hands traveled down your sides and under your hoodie, where they settled at your waist. "Can I take these off?" he referred to his Hoodie on you and your shirt. You hummed, opening your eyes and looking back at him. "I need verbal confirmation, y/n." He chuckled at you. " Yes, Stiles, please." He gave you a quick kiss on your forehead before pulling your shirt and hoodie above your head in one go. What Stiles didn't know was that you wore no Bra underneath. He tried not to stare at your naked body chest underneath him, so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable when he looked up at you. You had your head turned away again, slightly covering part of your chest with one hand. He took your hand in his own slowly moving, removing it from your chest. He leaned back down and started spreading small pecks along your neck and down to your collarbone, which had you whimpering and trusting back up against him. You felt him smile into your skin. His hand slowly traveled down your body, settling onto your hips and pushing them back down into the mattress. "Patience, baby, we will get there." Stiles moved his head back up and turned your face to look at him. You couldn't keep yourself from blushing at his words. You've never known that Stiles had such a side to him. Your hands tucked slightly at Stiles's shirt, signaling that you wanted it off; he sat back on his knees and pulled his shirt above his head. You've seen Stiles shirtless before, and every time it makes your skin heat up, you're sure you couldn't blush a deeper shade of red as you were staring at his perfect form. When you looked at his face, you noticed he was already looking at you. Watching as you stared at his body, you felt flustered under his dark eyes. Stiles's hands were back on your thighs, rubbing small circles with his thumbs that made your legs twitch.

"Do you want me to stop? We don't have to go further," Stiles asked. "Honestly, this was already way more than I ever expected to happen. You don't -"

You giggled as you noticed Stiles was starting to get into a nervous ramble. "Stiles, calm down, you're fine, I don't want to stop." For the first time tonight, it felt like you could talk freely with nothing holding you back. "Okay, good, good, but tell me if I need to stop. I will I prom-"

"Stiles! "

"Will you please shut up and get back here?" You reached your arms out to him, signaling to him that you wanted him back on top of you. Stiles smiled as he leaned back down, capturing your lips in another kiss. Both of you hadn't planned this, and neither one of you knew how to make the next move. You both knew you wanted more, and you knew that Stiles had slightly more experience than you and hoped he would make the next move.

And thankfully he did. Stiles slowly moved his hand that was still on your thigh a little higher, feeling your breath hitch as he cupped your heat through your pants, slowly rubbing his palm against you. You let a small moan escape your lips, which was swallowed by Stiles as he kept kissing you. He undid the tie of your (his) sweatpants and pushed his hand inside he moved his fingers down over your panties to feel how damp they were. "Stiles, please," you whimpered against his lips. Stiles swore he was so hard that he could come from just looking at you right now. He pulled his hand out, and you buckled your hips in protest. A small laugh passed his lips. He decided not to torture you any longer and started to pull your pants down. You lifted your hips for him to make it easier, and when they were finally off, he ran his hands up and down your thighs, feeling your soft skin.

You reached one of your hands between you to cup Stiles's erection through his own sweatpants. Feeling your hands on him for the first time made Stiles let out a loud groan that went straight to your own core.

You pushed Stiles slightly so he would lay on his back as you climbed between his legs. He stared at you as you settled on your stomach between his legs. He wet his lips and groaned when you palmed him harder. He lifted his hips off the bed and watched you pull his sweats and boxers down in one go. You wrapped your hands around him and looked up at him as you leaned forward to lick one long stripe along the underside of his dick up to his tip, where you collected his precum on your tongue. "Fuck, Y/N, don't do that." Stiles threw his head back; there was no way he could look at you if he wanted to last. You wrapped your lips around him and started bobbing your head up and down in a slow rhythm. Stiles groaned above you as his hands grabbed the sheets, and you saw his knuckles turn white.

You took his hand in yours and guided it to the back of your head to signal him that he could take control. Stiles took your hair in his hand and wrapped the other one around your scalp, holding you close. Suddenly, he started thrusting up while simultaneously pulling your head down, his cock going further down your throat with every thrust. You tried your best to breathe through your nose. Stiles moans fueled your desire to make him finish, so you hollowed your checks more and sucked harder. One of his hands left your head, and he draped it lazily over his eyes, thrusting his hips fast and keeping your head down. "I'm I'm close- fu- so close, Y/N." You felt a stutter in his rhythm, and after a few more thrusts, his hips lifted up one last time. He pushed your head down fully, your nose pressed against his pelvis as he came down your throat. You swallowed around him, the overstimulation making him pull out.

"Come here," Stiles pulled you towards him. You had to crawl on his lap because you were too short to reach him from your position. Stiles pulled you into another kiss and groaned when your wet panties rubbed against his half-erect dick.

Stiles's hands roamed over your body and settled on your ass; he pushed your hips down to grind harder against him as you were still mostly hovering over him, unsure whether you should put your whole weight on him.

When Stiles finally felt you let go and sink down on his lap he moved one of his hands from your ass and in between your bodies where he pulled your panties aside, he moved back a little so he could see you fully and ran one of his fingers up and down your slit collecting your wetness, you moaned at the feelings of stiles finger on you, he moved his finger up and slowly started drawing circles on your clit with his finger pad, you fell forward and put your hands against stiles chest as you let your moans slip freely from your mouth you started grinding against stiles hand as he finally inserted his finger into you, you needed more already soaking stiles hand you begged Stiles for more "More, please Stiles" he added another finger, spreading you open, the hand on your ass helping you move faster against his hand. The palm of his hand rubbed against your clit. 

Stiles couldn't believe the sight above him, trying to implant your beauty into his brain forever as you threw your head back. "I'm gonna come- Stiles!" Your hips stuttered, but his hand on your ass helped you move through your orgasm. You collapsed on top of him. He slowly stroked your back, but Stiles wasn't done with you yet. He waited for your breathing to calm down before he spoke again. "I want to taste you." You felt another blush creep up on your cheeks. You weren't going to deny Stiles his wish and were going to move off him to lie down when he held you still. "Sit on my face," Stiles said as he pulled your hips upward. Your cheeks fired up as you started stuttering. "Whaat no, I can't, we can't," you tried to move off. "Baby, look at me. I know what you're thinking, and I promise you won't hurt me." Stiles insisted looking up at you. "N-no, what if I crush you?" you said quietly, not looking Stiles in the eyes. Stiles smiled at you, and his hands traveled up your thighs, gripping them tightly. "You won't, and even if you did, it sounds like a great way to go out." You frowned and slapped him across the chest, earning you a laugh from Stiles. "Y/n, I mean it; you won't hurt me if it makes you feel better. How about I tap your thighs like this if I need you to move up?" He asked while tapping two of his fingers against your thigh three times. He looked up at you, giving you the best puppy eyes he could muster. You knew you could never deny him when he looks like this, and with a sigh, you gave in "Ookay- but..."

"No more buts!" Stiles interrupted you. He lifted you up slightly as if you weighed nothing and helped you out of your panties before moving your body towards the headboard until you were hovering over his face. He caressed your inner thighs, spreading your legs further apart. Stiles didn't think you could get any hotter, but when he looked up into your eyes from this position, taking you in in your blushing form, he swore you got even more beautiful. Stiles's hands moved up to your hips, which he grabbed tightly before pressing you down onto him, finally having your cunt on his face. He liked a long stripe up from your hole to your clit, moaning at the taste, which sent vibration right through your clit and a shock up your spine.

Stiles ate you out like a man starving, pulling you even closer and fully burying his head into your cunt. He rocked your body against his face, his nose brushing against your clit as he pushed his tongue into you. You grabbed his hair with one hand and the headboard with the other, rocking your body back and forth against Stiles's face, letting moans of his name echo through his room, which only fueled Stiles on more. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, you ground down right into him. "Shit Stiles, s-sorry," you tried to lift yourself back up, but Stiles held you close, pressed up against his mouth. He opened his eyes and looked up at you, the eye contact sending shivers down your spine.

Stiles moaned against your clit making you throw your head back. One of his hands sneaked up your body and ghosted over your breast. Stiles has always wanted to touch them. When you put your hands over his to grab them harder, Stiles finally lost his last reserve and started rolling your nipple between his fingers. "Stiles, Stiles..." His name fell off your lips like a mantra as you came a second time that night, your legs clamping together around Stiles's head, trying to keep him there. He tried his best to lap up all your juices, and when the stimulation became too much, you lifted yourself up, much to Stiles's displeasure, as he would much rather have kept you there. You moved to the side, lying down next to Stiles.

You looked at him, his face glistening in your juice. "That was the best thing ever!" Stiles exclaimed with a smile on his face. You chuckled at his bright smile. He looked like a kid on Christmas. He leaned over to you, connecting your lips. You could taste yourself on his lips. You felt Stiles hard on press against your thigh. You moved your hand down his stomach and wrapped it around your shaft. You moved, so Stiles was in between your legs. "I want you inside me," you mumbled against Stiles's lips.

Stile's mind went haywire. He didn't expect to ever get so far with you, so he didn't have any condoms. You saw the worried look on his face as you watched his eyes scan the room. "I'm on birth control, Stiles," you reassured him as you ground your wet cunt against his hard cock. "Are you sure this is okay?" Stiles asked as he lined himself up with your entrance. "Yes, Stiles, I've never been more sure."

Stiles slowly pushed in, making sure not to hurt you. He knew you hadn't slept with anyone since losing your virginity over two years ago, so it stung a little when Stiles was fully inside you. He stayed still for a moment, just taking in your beautiful face and the feeling. "You're beautiful," Stiles said, smiling down at you. Stiles has called you beautiful before, but it had never made you feel the way it did now that you knew he felt the same way about you.

You moved your hips a little, signaling Stiles to move. "Stiles, move, ple-ase!" Stiles pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back in. He immediately found the right spots that had you moaning under him, "fuck- fast- stiles faster!" You moaned in his ear. Stiles picked up the pace and felt your nails dig into his back. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder so he could reach even deeper. The new position made him hit your g-spot with every thrust and had you tightening incredibly around him. "Fuck Y/N, you're too tight." Stiles swore you were sent to earth just for him, as he filled you perfectly. He propped himself down on his elbow, pressing himself even closer to you. He reached one hand between your legs, rubbing your clit. 

You were still incredibly sensitive from earlier and came almost instantly while he continued rubbing your clit in slow circles to help you back down from your high. Your thighs were shivering. Stiles pulled out of you and turned you around; he gently pushed you on your stomach. You slightly lifted your ass up towards him as well as your shaking legs could support you. Stiles trusted back inside you, but with the first thrust of his hips, your legs already gave out. You were gripping the sheets between your fingers as Stiles held you against him, chasing his own orgasm. "Fuck y/n, I'm going cum," he said, his rhythm breaking. "In-inside... please stileees" you whined out for him. The thought of coming inside sent Stiles over the edge. He pressed his chest against your back as he slowly emptied himself inside you.

When he pulled out, you flopped back on the bed and said, "Don't move; wait here!" Stiles got off the bed and ran into the bathroom, you guessed. When he came back, he had a roll of toilet paper and a warm washcloth. He cleaned up between your legs the best he could before crawling back in bed with you. He pulled you flush against his chest, loving the way you curled into his side. You laid your head on your chest, listening to Stiles's heartbeat as he played with your hair. You heard Stiles say something but didn't register it, exhaustion finally catching up on you as you fell asleep.

At 6:30 a.m., just a few hours later, you were rudely awakened by Stiles's alarm. You debated for a second about just skipping class when Stiles and you heard his dad in the hallway. You both immediately sprang into action, getting your clothes back on, just as you had finished putting on your clothes and pulling your shirt down, the sheriff entered the room. He looked surprised, expecting to only find Stiles.

It's not like you have never slept over at Stiles place, but usually the sheriff knew. Judging by the way the sheriff looked at Stiles, he already knew what had happened between you two. "Just make sure you both make it to school in time, okay?" Was all he said, looking at Stiles, who nodded his head, hand scratching his neck. "We have to be quick; I need my stuff from home," you reminded Stiles after the sheriff left.

Stiles dropped you off at him with barely 10 minutes to spare, which definitely wasn't because you two took an extra long shower this morning. Your mother tried to approach you and question you about what happened and why you weren't at home, but you just brushed her off promising to fill her in later. You changed your clothes, grabbed your bag, and were back in Stiles's jeep in record time. You knew your grandma was watching again from the kitchen window, so you reached over and pulled Stiles into a kiss.

Stiles caressed your cheek and deepened the kiss. You didn't pull back until you couldn't breathe. Just as you were about to lean in again, you saw your dad leave the house out of the corner of your eye. "Drive!" You turned to Stiles, who didn't need to be told twice as you both made your way to school. You couldn't help but laugh at the face your dad made while standing alone in the driveway.

At school, you and Stiles walked in holding hands, looking for your friend group. The first one you spotted was Lydia, who gave you a knowing smirk. "It looks like you're no longer on the list of oblivious idiots, Stiles," she said, making Stiles look confused.

[numberonecounsellor]

Sleeping Positions to identify a Personality…..

The way we sleep is quite important to understand our personality traits as it helps to focus on some of the unearthed answers which we have not been able to find for ourselves……

The below 6 Sleep Positions can help to get a gist of how does our brain and body behaves whilst we are not in our Consciousness:

1. Foetus - Shy & Sensitive

2. Log - Social & Easy Going

3. Yearner - Same as Log

4. Soldier - Quite & Reseved

5. Freefaller - Brash & Gregarious

6. Starfish - Good Listener

Know more with Psychologist Harsh Pandya on +91-9820796444 or visit us on https://lnkd.in/ea9ThWpQ

[unbindingkerberos]

do they take anything to help them sleep ( medicines, chamomilles, warm milk... )?

how easy is it for them to block someone online?

do they use specific ringtones depending on who calls them, or do they use just one for everyone?

do they make their bed in the morning, or leave it undone until it's time to sleep?

do they own a car?

how often do they get fast food?

what's their usual sleeping position?

what's their go-to flavor when it comes to toothpaste?

For Amarice and Henry please <3

Henry "Babel" Adler | R6

Henry atleast drinks an entire glass of warm milk before sleeping everynight.

Not that easy. Henry is delighted reading messages/ posts that openly target, troll and/or antagonize him. He only blocks someone when he grows bored of the user.

Nope just the standard iphone/ android ringtone for the majority. The only exceptions are Marius (clair de lune), Deimos (requiem) and Amarice (don't stop me now by queen).

Henry used not to but once in the care of Amarice, she thought him how to. He does every morning now.

He owns a 1929 Matchless Model X a gift from Amarice.

Not often. Henry makes his own food and has a refined palate. But he does buy fast food when he gets lazy or tired and can't cook.

Fetal position.

As long as its toothpaste: its toothpaste.

Amarice "Patriot" Locke | R6

Alcohol. Especially if she's had a bad day. When she's not she drinks recommendations Henry sends her.

Well she doesn't have any online accounts except for Twitter account (which she uses to troll fellow operators) but when she finds a user annoying or even making a bad joke her she immediately blocks them.

Standard iphone/ android ringtone.

She's very strict around etiquette so yes, Amarice does fix her bed every morning (even when she has a bad hangover).

Though she likes collecting vintage cars and bikes, Amarice does not own one. She just rides your standard bicycle.

Eats frequently as a guilty pleasure.

Freefaller position.

Wait theres different flavored toothpaste?