#I can barely get out of bed before 11am on most days now. I stay up later than I should so that I can enjoy the things that I love without

[flippedorbit]

if i get talked down to one more god damn time I’m leaving again. I don’t care that its fucking storming outside

[goldenroutledge]

next to you

pairing ⤜ rafe cameron x reader

word count ⤜ 1.1k

summary ⤜ mornings with your husband, rafe.

warning(s) ⤜ this work contains a MAJOR season three spoiler! but other than that just fluff? might be on the hurt/comfort side just a smidge

a/n ⤜ he looks so BOYFRIEND in this outfit! i’ve been having so much writer’s block i haven’t written in a year at least, but my babygirl mila @msgorillagripcoochie inspired me with this idea <3 this isn’t canon rafe btw literally none of my work is canon compliant

rafe cameron masterlist

© goldenroutledge || do not plagiarize, repost, or translate my work in any way

Steam fogged the mirrors of the en-suite bathroom, slowly dissipating with the cooler air being let in from the bedroom. White towel hanging around his hips, Rafe sat at the edge of the bed you shared, staring down the vast space of the walk-in closet.

Fidgeting with the ring on his finger, nerves coursed through his body, and it was in times like these that he remembered the days of drinking scotch before 11am. But that was a thing of the past, he reminded himself just as quickly as the thought popped into his mind.

Today he was meeting with an old teacher from his alma mater, who grew to be one of his favorites. Probably his only favorite.

Rafe was never a scholar or anything, something Ward didn’t allow him to forget. He just learned differently, from someone like Sarah who could barely show up to school three times a week and still pass every exam.

It wasn’t until Rafe found himself with a 67% in his social studies class and less than a month left in the semester to turn his grade around that he was forced to attend office hours.

The first day was embarrassing. He felt like an idiot in the first place, seeing as his horrible grades pretty much spoke for themselves. But even more so now that he had to stay longer at school because he was an idiot.

Rafe stayed silent for the most part. Letting the professor do most of the talking, letting him know which assignments and topics he needed to perform well on to end the class with a passing grade.

It wasn’t until that Friday, his professor knocked some sense into him.

« “You know you’ll never learn anything if you don’t ask questions, right?”

Rafe rolled his eyes, tired of sitting prisoner in the chair of his teacher’s office. “What do you want me to ask?”

“Anything.”

“I don’t have questions.” He lied unconvincingly.

“Every time I teach you, Rafe, I can see the gears turning in your head. You’re a smart kid. But I can’t help you excel if you don’t engage. I get it, alright. I felt stupid asking a bunch of questions in front of everyone in school too but I need you to be receptive. Help me help you, Mr. Cameron.”

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Okay. We can start with assigning you a peer tutor.”

Rafe wanted to laugh. Or cry, he wasn’t sure. The whole thing was just ridiculous to him at this point.

“She’ll be someone you can talk with about the material, ask questions to, someone you can trust to help you get back on track. Are you familiar with Y/n Y/ln?” »

Little did he know, Mr. Murphy would be getting the boot by the school board. Something about budget cuts, as if the kook parents of the island didn’t give enough donations to the school to keep the water fountains at a perfectly cold temperature.

Not because their books were falling apart or because their desks were chipping. Because people are selfish, and the new headmistress of the academy felt like the money could be better spent remodeling her office. It was laughable, really.

Today, that professor was back on the island, and reached out to Rafe to meet with him following the news of Ward’s death. Not that he mentioned that specifically in his email, though it was mostly implied that he’d wanted to check up on Rafe after everything.

And with all the questions he’d probably be asked today during this lunch with his old mentor, all he could ponder over was what he was going to wear. Perhaps it was a method of procrastination, to get his mind off of everything else.

Rafe sighed. “Y/n?”

At hearing his voice echoing through the house, you slid your bookmark in between the pages and followed his voice upstairs into your shared bedroom.

“You called?”

“I need your help.”

Your eyebrows raised involuntarily at the sight before you; no matter how many times you’d seen Rafe almost naked (and actually naked), he never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“Help getting dressed?”

He nods, confirming that you’re always good at reading his mind. “Dress me, please?”

You chuckled, pulling some articles of clothing from the hangers and drawers. It was just lunch, so it wasn’t like he needed anything too business-y. His striped blue and orange shirt had always been one of your favorites, though he seemed to look good in almost anything.

You threw a pair of boxers over to him, keeping your back turned as you still rummaged through the closet. No matter how irresistible he was, there wasn’t any time for funny business this morning.

“There’s no need to be nervous, y’know. Mr. Murphy has always liked you.”

How do you always know what he’s thinking, damnit. “Yeah. I guess.”

He pulled the striped shirt over his head while you found pants for him to wear.

“Just don’t want him to think I’m still the same loser I was back then.”

“You’ve never been a loser, Rafe.”

“Maybe not in your eyes.” His lips stretched into a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He put on the pants you picked for him, sitting back down to look up at you.

“Definitely not in my eyes.”

His hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer so his head rested on your stomach. The tips of your fingernails lightly scratched the back of his neck as you embraced.

“Do you remember the science fair? Freshman year?”

Rafe hummed in response. “Ward thought it was stupid. I asked him to come and he didn’t. Said he would be too embarrassed when I lost.”

“And then what happened? You won the whole damn thing.”

“I won the whole damn thing.” He smiled against your skin, repeating your words softly.

“You’ve never been a loser.”

Kneeling down, you placed your hands on his thighs, and gave him a sweet kiss.

“You’ve already accomplished so much.” You affirmed, reminding him of the businesses he had taken over since Ward died. Still, Rafe was unsure if he could rise to the occasion.

You took the ends of his jeans and cuffed them, knowing he’s terrible at doing it himself. They always come out uneven. And conveniently enough, he likes spending these quiet moments together. Neither of you would trade them for anything.

“I married you.” He cooed, taking your left hand in his and letting his thumb glide across the ring on your finger. “Best decision I’ve ever made.”

“That it was.” You cheesed, letting him pull you up to straddle him. “Next time you think you’re not accomplished, Rafey…” You peppered soft kisses to his jawline. “Remember that you’ve got me.”

taglist: @ilovejjmaybank @missevi @nxsmss @cameronsrafe @msgorillagripcoochie @bibliophilewednesday @tovvaa @rudybarnes @annab-nana @babeyglo @reawritesthings @moniamaybank @outerbankspreferences @laneylaneylaney @jjpouggues @pogueslandia @mildkleptomaniac @whcclxr @mrs-cameron @it-was-never-meant-to-be-boys @alanniys @amourology @luversgirl + rafe cameron taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @chrisevansfuturewife @drewstarkeysbitchh @littlementalpolaroids @destourtereaux @kookkyra @iammirrorball

it’s been a while since i’ve posted writing so if anyone wants to be removed from/added to the taglist please don’t hesitate to let me know! 💌

[valyalyon]

August, 2024

CW: Brief sexual descriptions, cheating, affair.

August 1, 2024.

Today is Theo’s 1st birthday! I woke up early today to start setting up everything for a playdate birthday party with Anthony.

I can’t believe how fast he’s growing.

The whole day and into the afternoon, I spent it playing with Theo and Anthony. Sara and Julius had been working and so I had been left to entertain the kids and I didn’t mind at all. I loved spending time with Anthony, he was sweet and looked a lot like Julius. Most importantly though, it was Theo’s birthday and I couldn’t help myself but to celebrate with them.

I took pictures of Theo and everything I had set up, and looked at the clock, realizing that it was getting time for Julius to get home from work. Sara had already gotten home, but immediately had left again with a girlfriend to go clubbing. Sara worked 3 days out of the week, but she had a habit of going out every single night. Sometimes she would return home by 2am, other times not until 10 or 11am.

I quickly gathered the boys up to put them to bed, as they had exerted a lot of energy and were ready to sleep the night away. I decided I would clean up the party as soon as I got them to sleep.

When I came down, in a rush to clean everything up, I quickly noticed that everything was already done. Balloons were tied up and put in a corner, stuffed animals sat together on the sofa, play mat put away, and the light of the kitchen was on.

Julius stood in the kitchen, putting a now clean cake knife away.

I walked into the kitchen, “thank you, Julius. I was going to do it as soon as the boys were asleep… I’m sorry.”

“you’re okay, I appreciate you taking care of Anthony,” Julius said, turning to walk towards me.

He stopped right in front of me, and then cleared his throat, “can I hug you?”

I nodded, and opened my arms to accept him. This was the first time we had touched since I left two years earlier. He embraced me tightly and I squeezed back.

Neither of us spoke for a couple of seconds, but when we started to pull away, he paused, slightly holding me in place.

When I looked at him, my eyes were up to his, just two inches from one another. His hand slightly moved along my back, up towards my neck.

Before he could do anything, I quickly pulled away, “sorry, I think I heard Theo.” And I quickly rushed off.

August 8, 2024.

To celebrate my 24th birthday, Sara got a cake, a bunch of alcohol, and had the idea that we stay up watching movies. Julius was there with us, so he too celebrated in the drinking.

Sara had gotten home that day at 10am and hadn’t slept, so after about 3 drinks on the couch, she started to pass out, and caught herself, “fuck, I’m going to bed, I’m exhausted.”

She got up quickly from the couch and drunkenly stumbled into the guest bedroom down in the basement. She closed the door behind her and we heard the creaking bed as she passed out onto it.

“Want another shot?” Julius asked me, sitting down beside me on the sofa with a bottle of vodka.

“Only if you have another,” I told him.

“My glass is right there,” he nodded towards the coffee table at our feet, and I held up my glass to him.

He filled mine, and then his, and then we both downed the shot together. Then another. And another.

“Fuck,” I moaned.

“You feel so fucking good,” his breath was hot against my neck, his cock pulling in and out of me repeatedly.

“You’re still massive,” I gasped, and he pulled me into a kiss.

August 16, 2024.

The next time we were alone, we had an argument.

“Why the fuck did you leave?” He asked, furiously, but barely raising his voice. Most of his anger was in his dark eyes.

“I don’t know. I had so much going on in my mind, I wasn’t well,” I explained as best as I could without having to explain the real reason.

“I was going to propose to you! August 16, 2022, I was planning on proposing to you. I had been ring shopping. I was going to go pick up the ring I had chosen and pay for it. But I never got to do that because you were gone before the end of July!”

“I’m sorry, Julius… I really didn’t think you would have forgiven me. Did you want me to move out with Theo? I can get out of your way, you don’t have to see me again if I’m drudging up too much… we’ve already made a mistake by having sex, maybe the best thing is for me to go and you can maybe still preserve your marriage,” I reasoned.

He looked at me so angrily.

Then, he shook his head. “I don’t want you to leave but maybe we just go back to a little bit of space between us. I don’t regret having sex with you, and she doesn’t know.”

“That doesn’t mean it’ll happen again,” I interrupted him, wanting to make my stance clear.

“No,” he said.

Note From Valya

Julius and Dolores have overstepped a boundary! More descriptive scenes coming very soon!! See below for more of Dreams, Ink and Embers.

DIE MASTER LIST OR #LYONDIE

[sokovianheadtilt]

Tug of War (8)

Steve Rogers x black!reader

Summary: Y/N caught the attention of her boss, who’s determined to win her over

A/N: Not beta’d, I don’t have anyone to do that lol. I should probably get on that. I may have gotten excited because chris wants to be a whore and look that good at the lightyear premier. Hope you enjoy!!!

Warning: None I don’t think, just fluff :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

After the whole Pietro and Sharon fiasco, you made Steve stay over at your place, which he held no objection to. You always felt better falling asleep next to him, being able to fully stay calm and collected. 

When you woke up the next morning, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, looking over at the time and saw it was almost 11am. You gasped and frantically scrambled out of bed, fuck you were so late to work, but then you also realized, where is Steve? You ran downstairs and saw him dancing around the kitchen with headphones on, making some breakfast, and you just stared at him with confusion written all over your face. He finally turned around and saw you as he grinned “You’re up! Good Morning flower” he took his headphones out and went over to you, giving you a light kiss “Morning? Um, I think I slept through my alarm”

He shook his head “No you didn’t. I turned it off”

“Why?”

“I am having you all to myself today. I called in for you so you get the day off, and its the weekend soon anyway so, you’re mine for three days”

You giggled and kissed his cheek “Thank you” you wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his chest “What are we gonna do?”

He wrapped his arms around you “We are gonna go on a date, we can do whatever you want”

You grinned “Oh! Can we go to Central Park? It’s so nice over there”

He nodded “Whatever you want flower” he leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose “Now come eat, I made French toast”

You pulled away from him and went to sit at the table as Steve went and set your plate in front of you. “Stand up for a second honey” you did as he said and watched as he sat down in your chair, pulling you into his lap. You felt your cheeks heat up as he grabbed the fork and started to feed you “Stevie, I can feed myself” you smiled “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Oh my god” you buried your face in his shoulder as he let out a laugh. He kept feeding you until the plate was cleared “I should go get dressed” you stood up as did he “Can I watch?” You shoved him gently and giggled before going back upstairs and brushing your teeth as well as washing your face. You rummaged through your closet, trying to find a good outfit. You settled on a pink summer dress and white converse. You laid the dress on your bed and looked at Steve who was watching you. “What?”

“You’re gonna wear that?” He asked and you nodded “It’s a nice day, it’s getting warmer, seems appropriate” You looked at Steve, “Are you okay with me changing right here?” He hasn’t exactly seen your body yet, you haven’t taken THAT step with him yet, you don’t know why but it just hasn’t happened. The most you’ve done was making out with some light groping. “Of course flower” you nodded a bit and pulled off your pajamas and changed into your dress, flattening it out as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Steve got up and wrapped his arms from behind you, looking at you from the mirror “You look so gorgeous, god” he pressed a kiss to your neck “Thanks Stevie” you turned around to kiss him before going to pull on your shoes. He watched the way your dress swayed against your thighs, it drove him crazy. “Gonna be hard to take my eyes off of you, damn” you bit your lip, avoiding his gaze “Well you’re gonna have to try your hardest, we’re going to be in public” you went to the bathroom to fix your hair. He followed you in there, sitting on the toilet lid as he watched. 

“You’re like a puppy, following me everywhere” you commented “Flower I can barely take it when you’re not by my side, I’m taking every chance I get to be near you”

You rolled your eyes fondly before looking back in the mirror “Ugh, I need to get my hair done”

“Yeah?” He rested his head against his hand “Yeah, the whole process is so tedious though, my arms are always sore by the end of it”

“Anything I can do to help?” You turned to face him “We’ve only been dating for 3 months, you don’t have hair privileges yet”

He chuckled “Yes dear”

You smiled and once you were satisfied, you turned to face him “Okay, I’m ready” he nodded and stood up, taking your hand and leading you out the bathroom. You grabbed your bag and your phone before leading them out your room and out the house. You made it to Steve’s car as he drove to Central Park. 

Once you made it, you walked into the park hand in hand and looked around. “God I love it here” you looked over at the river “Oh there’s turtles in there!” You said excitedly and pulled him over to the railing to look down at them. There were about five with their heads poking out “They’re adorable look!” Steve chuckled “I see them flower” you turned to face him “There’s also ducks, come on” you took his hand and took him to another pond where ducks were walking on the rocks being fed by some of the other people sitting beside them. You went to move closer, crouching down, trying to get one to move closer to you. 

Steve stayed behind as he watched you, taking out his phone and taking a few pictures of this moment. He loved that you were an avid animal lover, it added to your overall cuteness. You finally stood up and went back over to him, taking his hand “Let’s go” you pulled him away as the two of you roamed around the park. You leaned your head on his shoulder as he moved his arm to wrap it around your waist. “I used to come here a lot with my dad. We would take his nice camera and take pictures of whatever we could” he smiled softly down at you “That sounds like fun” you nodded “It was! He taught me what each button did, how to make them come out clear and bright, it was so much fun”

Steve kissed the side of your head as you walked by the horse carriages “Wanna go on one?”

You nodded enthusiastically and went over to an available one, Steve holding onto your waist, helping you onto the seat before sitting beside you as the horse walked off. You sat very close to Steve, looking up at him “Thank you for today, I really needed it” you said softly “Of course flower. Whatever you need just ask me”

You nodded a bit “I…I’ve been considering quitting my job” he gave you a confused look “What? Why? Is it because of your co-workers?” You shook your head “No, I can deal with them, just, it doesn’t make me happy, if anything I’m tired of the huge workload and going home at midnight everyday. I thought I was content with it, but I’m not. Each day I’m dreading going into the office more and more, and I didn’t want to go into this profession in the first place, I mainly did it for my parents approval and we don’t even speak anymore! I just think it might be the best thing for me, I’m not sure yet” Steve nodded, listening to your reasoning “Okay, what would you wanna do instead?” You shrugged “Honestly…nothing, I just want a break. I’ve been in and out of school for how long then jumped into work right after, its exhausting”

He nodded “Okay, let me know what you wanna do in the end. Maybe you’ll end up being my pretty little housewife” he joked, making your eyes widen a bit. Honestly, you wouldn’t mind if that happened. Taking care of Steve after he does all his hard work, doing what you wanted with your days, sounded like a dream. You smiled a bit at the thought, and being his wife? You haven’t considered marriage since Pietro, but Steve was different, he actually cares about you, would rather die than hurt you, and you loved him. 

Once the ride was over, Steve helped you get off before paying the driver and walking away “I’m ready to go home” you told him as he nodded and brought you back to the car “Today was amazing, thank you Stevie” he smiled softly down at you “Anything for you flower” you both got in the car as he drove off. 

You looked over at him, watching as he drove with on hand, his muscles protruding from his short sleeve and you could admit it made you…feel things. You reached over and set your hand on his leg, rubbing it a little. He glanced at your hand before looking at you “You start something you can’t finish flower”

You smirked at him “Who says I don’t wanna finish?”

taglist: @ljstraightnochaser @pastelbabygirl19 @datsavageavenger

[gucciwins]

Three Time

The one where Harry, Atticus, and Y/N celebrate. 

Word Count: 2,988

A/N: Hello friends, this is a little continuation to my story Adore You.  Harry is now a three time grammy nominated artist and i think that is beautiful. This is something short and i really do hope you enjoy it. 

There is a lot that happened this year that she never saw coming. 

First, a worldwide pandemic that would keep everyone locked indoors and having to wear masks. Secondly, Harry's Love on Tour getting rescheduled to 2021, but even that isn't looking good now. And lastly, being in Los Angeles in November as Harry is filming a movie as the lead male actor. 

Ever since Fine Line was released in December, time seemed to fly by for them.

Harry was overjoyed at how loved Fine Line was by his fans. He was getting support left and right. He was a humble man, never letting it go to his head, always saying he couldn't do it without the help of the people on his team. 

There have been rumors flying around speculating Harry having a girlfriend, a famous songwriter, but they have learned to ignore it. Harry doesn't feel the need to address his relationships because it's theirs. He would love to shout his love for Y/N to the world, but as long as she knows, he's content. 

They celebrated their one year anniversary in Italy for a week before flying back home, they would have stayed longer, but they missed Atticus too much to do that. As soon as they got home, it felt like everything changed. Not between them, but with the world. It was madness to see a lockdown, fear had spiked, but safety was a priority that they took seriously. Meaning they had to take it day by day.

Ever since the worldwide lockdown in March, Harry discussed staying in Los Angeles with Mitch and Sarah for a few months. Atticus was quick to agree, but Y/N really wanted to go home. Harry reminded her it was better to be surrounded by a good group of friends than to be distanced from everyone in London's separate homes. She was quick to agree after. 

Y/N didn't mind it much after; they all always helped each other out. There was also a lot of music playing, as well as creating. Harry said they might just have to get Mitch to release a quarantine album, which got Harry hit in the head with a pillow. 

The one who was taking this the hardest was Atticus, missing Anne and Gemma, who was back in London. He missed going to the park to play, he missed running around free, and honestly, she did as well. They would go hiking and on walks, but it was not as open as before. 

This is why, by June, they returned back home to London, and after a week of quarantine and negative test results, they went on the journey to visit both families. Y/N separated from them to visit her mother and step-dad even though Harry tried to convince her they could go together, but honestly, as much as she loved Anne and had started to see her as a second mother, she really needed a hug from her own. She promised Harry and Atticus she would see them the day after as she was coming to see Anne and they would stay the week with her. 

During this time, Y/n started knitting, something she learned at a young age but would only do when she was stressed. She began teaching Atticus, but he could only keep still for a little bit before he had to run off and do a new activity. She knitted socks, hats, and blankets for their family and friends and shipped them off to them. Y/N even made Atticus and herself the JW Anderson Cardigan. It was a lot of work, but it came out lovely. Harry made them do a little backyard photoshoot because he loved it so much.  

Harry had even surprised her when he told her it would be on the cover of Vogue. She was in shock, but she never stopped hugging him, telling Harry how proud of him she was. The day of the shoot was gorgeous, she had to remind herself to breathe a few times, or she would have passed out. Atticus was in the shoot with Gemma and Harry as they did a family shoot to surprise Anne. Harry kept asking her if she was enjoying it, and honestly, her smile said everything. That she was proud of him, that he was doing fantastic but most importantly, that she loved him. The skirt had a lot of filthy thoughts floating through her head, and she really hoped they'd lend it to Harry if she told him everything she wanted to do with him, specifically her under that skirt touching him. 

Harry had her join for a few photos, Lambert pulling out a surprising look just for her. Harry promised these photos were just for them, even if he wanted to have them put one in just so the world could know how much he loved his family. 

It's November now, and they are in Y/N's Malibu home, which they have been staying at since October. Harry has started filming "Don't Worry Darling," in Olivia Wilde's film. It was surreal when they found out; she couldn't be any prouder. Staying in her home was an easy choice; not many knowing where she lives, only a few friends, and Atticus loves having the beach so close even if it is a little too cold to go in now. 

Y/N and Atticus can't go to set due to safety and regulations, but Harry calls and facetime them every time he gets a break in his trailer. He lets them know he misses them, but he really loves everyone he's working with. That the cast is incredible and kind. Harry would not stop teasing Y/N for her reaction when she saw the wedding ring on his left hand. It made her stop mid-sentence. Husband Harry is something she wishes to one day get because Dad Harry is an angel to his sweet son. 

Harry has recently gone back to filming as it was postponed for two weeks because someone on set came out positive to make up for the lost time they started filming on weekends, which bummed out Atticus. Still, Harry quickly told him it wasn't his choice and that they would watch movies of his options as soon as he was back. Atticus loves Y/N a lot, but he's never going to love anyone more than his dad, even though Atticus does push Harry second sometimes. 

More times than not, Harry will get home and find Y/N and Atticus napping in a new place of the house; the last time was outback in a little tent Y/N set up with fairy lights and had many pillows and blankets to stay warm. Harry was quick to climb in and wrap his arms around Y/N, who quickly woke up due to his cold hands, but he apologized quickly with kisses. She's a sucker for his kisses.

Every moment together is special for them. 

Atticus called her 'Mum' a week ago and ran off, feeling embarrassed would not talk to her all day. Which was hard to do, seeing that they were the only three people in the house. Harry saw how sulky she was and talked with Atticus because neither would tell him what happened. Harry was surprised when Atticus told him what he said, but he was mostly filled with joy and a bit of fear. A fear that she could leave any day and not only would he be left heartbroken but so would his son, but he knows Y/N and the love she has for them. She's here forever, she might not say it, but her actions say enough for her. How she tucks in Atticus to bed with a kiss and an 'I love you.' Asking Anne and her mother on first time parenting tips when she thinks Harry isn't around. How much she cried when he got a scrape on his knee for the time in her care. There isn't anything stopping her from leaving, but she stays because she loves all she has. In the end, Atticus apologized for not speaking with her, and she hugged him and cuddled him all night long. Harry told Atticus that Y/N wasn't his mother, but she loved him like one and that it was okay with him if she called her that. Y/N was fearful of being a mom, but she loved Atticus like her own; even if she hadn't watched and cared for him since he was born, she was here known and would do so for as long as Harry and Atticus let her. 

November 24th, a long-awaited day for artists in the music industry. Harry has to be on set at 11AM today, meaning they will be watching the live stream together. Jeff is with Glenne and is on facetime with Harry. He has his phone perched up against a candle. Harry is sitting in the middle, Atticus to his left and Y/N to his right. He's in sweats and a plain white tee, not needing to be dressed up, seeing as it only is nine in the morning. 

The live stream is an hour-long. Y/N truly forgets how many categories they have until she watches. They woke up at eight am, had pancakes for breakfast, and spoke of their daily plans letting time go by them, allowing them to enjoy breakfast together as they do each morning. 

Atticus can barely sit still, just wanting to hear his daddy's name being called. Harry is surprisingly quiet, just sitting back with his arms crossed as the live stream goes on. Honestly, Y/N is the only one showing emotion. She cheers as she hears HAIM and Phoebe Bridgers get nominated. She itches to grab her phone to shoot them a congratulations message but fears she'll miss something, so she just gives herself a silent reminder to do it after. 

Sharon Osbourne had just begun to say the nominees for Best Comedy Album, and Y/N knows what is coming up soon. She isn't even listening to the nominees, just waiting for her to name the Best Music Video nominees. 

As soon as she says, "Brown Skin Girl, Beyoncé," Y/N feels Harry's hand on her thigh tighten, and she feels for him. His nerves must be out of the roof, but he tries his best not to show it. Y/N shuts her eyes tight, putting her hand over his to let him know she's there for him. 

When she hears the words "Adore You, Harry Styles," she feels her heart speed up. She opens her eyes wide and looks at Harry; his face is blank. Atticus is running circles around the couch, just cheering and yelling nonsense. Jeff and Glenne are cheering from the phone. 

Harry lets out a big smile when he finally meets her eyes. "Adore you did it, angel." She whispers.

He nods. "That's unreal. To hear my name." 

She leans in to give him a quick kiss as they settle back down, ready to listen for the upcoming categories. Megan the Stallion is starting the new section of categories, and Y/N isn't sure how to feel because she won't be able to take it if they don't name Harry again. 

"Best Pop Solo Performance, Watermelon Sugar." This time they all break out into cheers as soon as they hear them call Harry's name after Dua Lipa's. "Watermelon Sugar" had been a hit from the day of its release. Now it has been nominated for a Grammy feels unreal to Harry. Two nominations, he would have never believed it. 

Y/N's buzzing waiting for Megan to announce Best Pop Vocal Album. Harry is now leaning forward, knowing this is another category he could potentially be nominated for. 

"Fine Line Harry Styles" As soon as she hears those words, the tears start running down her face; he did this. His album was nominated. Harry can't stop smiling as Atticus hugs him tight around his neck. He lets out a small chuckle as he sees her tears. He pulls her in, kissing her head repeatedly, smiling at Jeff's congratulations but mostly basking in the joy of three nominations and that he has the opportunity to share it with those he loves. 

Harvey Mason JR. is here once again to announce the general field categories. Harry and Y/N nod along as the names of the nominees are called out. Jeff let out a cheer hearing HAIM nominated for album of the year. Y/N sighs, not hearing Harry being nominated but continues ready to hear Adore You for record of the year. Only it doesn't happen. Harvey Mason JR. bids everyone goodbye, and just like that, it's over. 

Jeff breaks the silence, congratulating Harry before hanging up. Harry sits back with Atticus in his lap, a big smile on his face. 

Harry is happy. Extremely happy, this has always been a dream of his, one he never knew would come true. 

His second album got him three Grammy nominations. Atticus has no clue what these awards mean, but he's happy just seeing Harry and Y/N happy.  Atticus climbs off Harry's lap, kissing Harry and Y/N's cheek, saying he's going to his room now. 

Harry turns to look at Y/N, and the smile she had has now left her face, and now she sits there, lost in thought. This worries Harry; she was fine moments ago. He's got to go soon, so he needs to figure this out now. 

"Honey, you alright?" Harry places his hand on her thigh, and she looks at him, nodding. 

"Fine." She kisses his cheek. "Really happy for you." 

Harry knows she is, but there's something else. "Spill." 

She sighs, knowing nothing gets past him. "You weren't named for any general category. I'm proud of the three you got, but I was sure you would be at least nominated for record of the year." Awards don't mean much to Y/N anymore, but she knows how important this is for Harry. "I'm sorry, ruining your mood." 

"You didn't. Thank you for caring so much." His smile is sincere, and she knows he wouldn't lie to her. 

"It's okay," Harry tells her, wanting her to repeat it with him.

"But Harry," He puts his hands on her cheeks to get her to stop and look at him. 

"Honey, it's okay. Three nominations are amazing, and I couldn't be happier." 

"I know," She deflates. "3-time Grammy Nominated Artist Harry Styles has a nice ring to it." She smirks, noting the blush on his cheek. 

"Dork." He leans in to kiss her nose. 

"Fine Line is still my favorite album, you know, from everything released, named number one." 

"You're just saying that." 

Y/N shakes her head no, "Of course not. Yours is the one album I had on repeat the most. My Spotify wrapped will prove just that." 

Harry snorts, "You're too much." 

He pulls her in to lay on his chest, her arms snake around his waist. They hold each other tight. 

"I'm proud of you," Harry whispers in her ear. 

Y.N leans back, but Harry's hold is tight. "I did nothing; you just got nominated. For your second album, you deserve all the praise today." 

"Honey, will you let me continue." Harry laughs. 

"Sorry, H." 

"I'm proud of you because, without you, this album would have never been finished. I would have never had the inspiration to finish Adore You. Would have never had the idea to make a fake island and promote it without ever adding my name to it. I would have never thought to film using a CGI fish, as my friend in the story. I would have never had the released "Lights Up," the song that started this new era for me but most importantly, I would have never found love. A love that is bigger than me that fills me with so much joy. A love that leaves me scared. A love that will forever keep on growing." Harry smiles as he wipes away her tears. 

Harry loves Y/N with all he has. This album was his, but it was also hers. It's what truly brought them together. 

"You made me cry, you jerk." She says, laying her head in the crook of his neck.

Harry laughs. "I just poured my heart out to you, and I'm the jerk." 

"I love you." Harry grins. That's all he wants to hear. "I'll love you, today, tomorrow, forever for as long as you let me. 

Harry can't contain his happiness and needs to show her. He connects their lips. It's a hard, fast kiss full of passion. They pull away because their smiles don't let them continue much. 

"You've got to go." Y/N reminds him as he continues to press kisses all over her face and neck. 

Harry settles down, smiling down at her. "I know." She leans forward, kissing him quickly. "We'll celebrate more when I get home tonight." 

"Three nominations, wow!" Y/N says, standing up. "We're in for a long celebration once we get Atticus down to sleep." She wags her eyebrows at him.

Harry very quickly gets the hint. "I can't wait, honey." 

Atticus comes bouncing down the steps giving his dad a kiss goodbye, walking him to the door, barefoot. Y/N follows Harry, giving her one last kiss goodbye as he walks to his car. 

As he gets in and pulls out of the driveway, he sees Y/N and Atticus waving goodbye to him. Harry has a big smile on his face that no one can see. He's thankful to now be a 3-time Grammy-nominated artist, but what he is most grateful for is getting to be the person who gets to love Y/N and Atticus forever.

Thank you for reading! This was just a small little piece for a beloved piece I wrote. If inspiration strikes, I shall be revisiting this story. 

Please let me know what you thought!

[writemekpop]

Lipstick On Your Collar (Part 1) | Nakamoto Yuta

Pairing: Nakamoto Yuta x Reader

Summary: Till death do us part... But what happens when he cheats?  

Genre: Husband!Yuta, Angst

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Infidelity, Sexual Content, Body Image

Gif: @yuthereal​

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

“Ten more minutes, then it’s homework time, alright?” you called to your two older sons, eight and four years old. Caught up in their wooden sword fight, they didn’t even look up.

You smoothed your hand over your face, eyes bruised from lack of sleep. Between your banking job and your three kids, sleep was a rare thing.

Just then, you felt a waft of chill air. Yuta strode in through the front door, his feathery black hair in disarray.

“Hey babe,” you called, shoulders relaxing.

Your husband had this calming presence, your island on a rough ocean. Your chest ached for Yuta’s warmth. You hadn’t hugged, kissed… touched in months.

“Hi, Y/n. We need to talk,” Yuta deadpanned.

You picked up your baby daughter Ayumi. She needed her nappy changed. Bad.

“Alright. What’s up?” You placed her on the changing mat, blowing your fringe out of your eyes.

“I mean in private.” You saw that Yuta’s face was stretched and white. A knot curled in your stomach.

“Nappies?” You lifted your hand. He begrudgingly handed them over.

“Y/n. This is serious.” Yuta’s voice quivered like a taut string.

“Can’t you see I’m busy? What is it?” you snapped. You instantly regretted it. Nowadays, you were always on the edge of an explosion.

“Okay. Fine. I’ve… messed up. And I’m sorry, and I didn’t mean it, but… it’s happened.”

You bin Ayumi’s old nappy, then pull her into your arms. “Is that all? Look, if you’ve broken something, we have insurance.”

“This isn’t a bloody plate! I’ve- I’ve done something awful.”

“Right. Well done. Anyway, I have to help the kids with their homework.”

“Just look at me, Y/n! I’m trying to fucking tell you something!” Yuta’s yell turned your head.

Yuta’s eyes were red-rimmed and wide, like he was in shock. “I… cheated on you, Y/n. I slept with someone else.”

Your heartbeat slowed to a crawl. Instinctively, you pulled your baby close.

“Who is she?”

“Diya. From the school.”

Your lips went numb. You put Ayumi down in her rocker and started rinsing plates in the sink. “How long?”

“Just once. It was a mistake, I swear… it’s just, she was there, and… I didn’t plan it!”

Your chest folded in on itself. While you were kissing your babies to sleep, Yuta was kissing someone else.

“When was it, Yuta?”

“The… day you… went to stay with your sister.”

You’d never forget that day.

It was a few weeks after Ayumi was born. You couldn’t seem to get out of bed, let alone be a good mother. So you’d escaped… just for a day.

While you were breaking apart, Yuta searched out another woman.

“Where?” You picked up the cutlery, letting the hot water scald your skin.

“Her apartment. We met up after work, and one thing led to another… I swear, that was all.”

Images burned into your mind, like a flashed camera. Yuta’s fingernails scraping the back of her neck, like he did to you. Their naked bodies gyrating, sweaty, the smell of sex saturating everything…

Your throat convulsed in a retch. For a second, it was like a brick was hitting your chest.

Then, everything stopped.

You felt a curtain dropping. You didn’t have time to deal with this. Not now. As quickly as they came, the feelings slowed. Drooped. Vanished.

You looked down. You were clenching a table knife so hard it had drawn blood. You let go.

Everything blurred. You felt like a kid again, staring up at yourself from the bottom of a pool.

Your voice was a croak. “Obviously, we’re not telling the kids. My parents are coming next week – so we can’t tell them either.”

You dried your hands and looked up at Yuta. His mouth was hanging open, like a cartoon character’s. It was almost funny.

You continued speaking, bunging toys into a basket.

“If you want a divorce, tell me now, because we’ll have to borrow money. For tonight, I’ll take the bed, you have the couch.”

“What the hell, Y/n?”

You jolt and look up. “Fine! You can have the bed.”

Yuta grabbed your shoulders, knife-cheekboned and wild. “I don’t care about the fucking bed! I just told you I cheated on you. Why aren’t you mad?”

You stared at his hands on your skin, like you didn’t recognise them. Yuta spotted your gaze, and slowly let go.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n. I want to fix this. But you need to let me in.”

You looked into his chestnut eyes and frowned. Why was he being so obnoxious?

Slowly, you spelled it out. “You cheated on me. It was with our kids’ tutor, while I was sick. You’re sorry. You won’t do it again. Now can I go and make dinner?”

Yuta blinked. Slowly. Then, he gulped and gave you a slight nod. “Yep.”

You pushed past him, and called out, “Whoever helps mummy with dinner gets ice cream!”

You ushered your eager kids towards the hob. You didn’t look back, but you felt Yuta’s gaze on the back of your head. Stunned.

------

You plastered on your brightest smile all throughout dinner, whilst laying out bedding on the couch for yourself, even whilst tucking your children into bed.

Now, you were sitting in your children’s room, with the lights out. You’d just finished reading their bedtime story. They were fast asleep.

Finally, you let the iron screen lift from your heart. Instead of fighting it, you bared the most vulnerable part of yourself.

It was a memory: you were in Paris with Yuta on the first night of your honeymoon. You were in a mid-range Travel Lodge – the best you could afford – with rain pelting at the windows.

You had woken up at 11AM, tangled up with Yuta from your cuddling. You’d talked, worried, agonised about it, but you’d never had sex with him before.

Yuta opened one sleepy eye and felt your body with his hands, as if he was checking if it was there. You tingled with lust to the tips of your toes. Suddenly, you knew the moment was right.

For once, you didn’t care about your tummy that you always tried to hide, you didn’t care about your thighs which rubbed together when you walked.

You didn’t think about anything, except the feeling of Yuta’s slow kisses, the feeling of him inside of you, the feeling of his hands reaching to the very ends of you.

You were in a hazy, golden pool of completeness. As you gasped your worries, apologies, in each other’s ears, you became whole in a way you’d never known before.

Then, the memory shattered. And in its place, before you could stop it, was the image that was burnt into your eyelids.

It played over and over again, the trailer to a movie of your shame. Yuta in her apartment, the thumping of the bedposts, him between her legs, her exclamations of ‘yes!’, that were only echoed by him moaning her name…

You screamed silently into your fist.

You knew the real reason Yuta cheated on you. Whatever excuses he made, it wasn’t a mistake or a drunk one-off.

You grabbed the soft flesh around your waist. This was why. You thought of the nights you’d told him you were too tired, that you weren’t in the mood. That was why.

You couldn’t even blame Yuta. He was only compensating for the fact that his own wife would never be attractive enough, good enough, just enough for him.

The tears rose up your throat, making your head pound and your cheeks stretch with sobs. You wanted nothing more than to drown yourself in these tears, though you knew they wouldn’t wash the pain away.

Then, you caught a grey glimmer in the darkness. Your youngest boy, Nico, was wide awake and watching you with saucer eyes.

“Hey baby… go back to sleep,” you whispered, quickly smoothing away your tears.

“Are you crying, mummy?”

The softness in his gaze was like a punch in the stomach. You choked down another wave of tears. “No, sweetie, I’m fine. Go back to sleep okay?”

Obediently, he closed his eyes. You didn’t deserve such beautiful children.

You were doubled over, silent in the darkness. You pressed your palms into your eyes, so hard they hurt, and forced the tears back.

You couldn’t even make your husband love you.

What hope did you have with your kids?

------

Three days had passed since that terrible night.

It was 10PM, and the house was unusually quiet.

You and Yuta were sitting at the far edges of the couch, the Netflix episode you never missed playing on the TV.

Both of you were pretending like nothing had gone wrong.

“So… how was work?” Yuta’s cautious voice broke the silence.

You sighed and shook your head. “Just get me a drink.” You couldn’t be bothered with this charade. But at least you could drown your feelings.

“Are you sure that’s a good-” Yuta began.

“Just get it.”

He returned with a whisky, with two ice cubes. Your heart twisted. “You remembered?”

“How could I forget my wife’s favourite drink?” Yuta gave you a thin smile, and for a second, you forgot to ice him out. You smiled back.  

That was two whiskies ago. Now, the gap between the two of you on the sofa had shrunk.

You were laughing so hard your eyes were teary.

“Do you remember, Y/n? Your shirt was on backwards, my pants were on the other side of the room, we were moaning so loud half the theme park could hear us!”

You dried your eyes, sighing. “I bet we scarred a few kids for life that day…”

Yuta’s lip curled up in a smile that sent your heart racing.

You looked down. Subconsciously, your hand was massaging Yuta’s denim-clad knee. You retracted it.

“God, we really knew how to have fun, didn’t we?” You could barely remember the time before you had your three children. It was rose-coloured.

“I mean, Disneyland was nothing. Remember Taeyong’s attic? The nightclub bathroom? I could go on…”

“Ahh!” You mimed blocking your ears. “There are kids in the house, you know!”

In doing so, you lost your grip on your whisky glass, which was balanced on your knee. Yuta grabbed it before it fell, and his hand was suddenly on your thigh.

He let go, and you cleared your throat.

That was hours back. Now, you were having difficulty sitting straight. You’d lost count of how many whiskies you’d downed.

You grabbed Yuta by the shoulders and shook him. “Look! Let’s just get it out of the way. ASAP, straight, completo. No regrets.”

For the first time in ages, your blood was running warm with more than alcohol. The worn denim of Yuta’s jeans was pulling your gaze southward.

“Get what out of the way? You’re not making sense, Y/n.”

You pulled the pin out of your hair and let it fall over your shoulders. “The big three-letter.”

Yuta looked at you, still bewildered. “What?”

“SEX.”

The glass fell from Yuta’s hand.

To be continued…

Part 1 ⭐| Part 2  | Part 3 | Part 4

[fallingforyou123]

You Will Never Be A God-Une

Warnings: Slight language, implied smut, alight angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Here is the official part one! Hope you'll like it, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Series Masterpost

The sheets hung loosely around her frame, the only thing keeping her from being exposed to the cold air. The stranger laid beside her in a dazed out state, chest rising ever so slowly. A small cloud of smoke engulfed the both of them, a bad habit Stevi had picked up from an ex of hers.

“Those will kill you one day.”

“No more than sleeping with strangers will.”

“Touche.”

Stevi moved to get dressed, keeping quiet to avoid another conversation. Leaving was always bad, but leaving when there was still so much to be said was the worst. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was a feeling, something small sitting in her gut. It worried her, she’d never felt like this with a stranger. So safe and comfortable.

“Stay. Just till the morning, I’ll have my driver take you home.” Came the voice from the other side of the bed.

“No, definitely no. I have rules, no names, no staying. I can’t”

“What a lonely life you must live, to disconnect so much from those around you.”

Stevi looked at him, truly looked at him. He looked so much different than the man she met a couple hours ago. His perfectly gelled hair was nothing more than a brown mess atop his head, his eyes were clouded with a sleepy haze, and his suit had been replaced by a very thin sheet. He looked like someone she could see herself falling for back in university, she had to remind herself that this was a man with a lot of money, someone she’d probably dig up dirt on for an article.

She shook her head, she needed to leave.

After she finished dressing, she grabbed her bag from the front room and slipped out the door. Checking her phone she saw a couple missed calls from Brooke and an enthusiastic ‘be safe!’ text from Poppy. She quickly both, ensuring them that she was not dead in a ditch somewhere, before ordering an uber and hoping in the elevator.

***

The rest of the weekend had gone by in a blur. She’d spent all of Saturday nursing her hangover with ice cream and old reruns of Golden Girls in bed. Then Sunday was brunch with the girls at a little cafe where she was forced to share every detail of the events that unfolded Friday night, only leaving out how weird she had felt in the strangers' company. And then all too soon she was getting ready for a week of meetings and interviews.

Walking into the office, Stevi was greeted by her boss informing her that her 11am was now Stevi’s and ‘oh, look, he’s early.’ She mentally groaned, there was not enough caffeine in the world to make this worth it. Don’t get her wrong, Stevi loved her job, but god did she hate her boss. She was flakey, and whenever anything didn’t appeal to her, she’d simply give it to Stevi with barely any notice. There were far too many nights that she had to stay late because she was given a column to write only hours before it was due.

With a heavy sigh, she walks into the conference room, hoping that this won’t last long. “Good morning, my name is Stevi, I’ll be doing the interview today since Diane couldn’t be here.”

“Rule one.”

She whips her head up towards the man, “What?”

It’s in that moment that she realizes who this is, the man from Friday night. And coincidentally, Tom Holland. She should’ve known the other night who he was, his name and face had been plastered on the bulletin board for weeks, one of their most anticipated interviews this year. Tom was not only a pretty face, but the youngest CEO to be running an international company in decades. His father had started Holland and Co. Publishing almost 30 years ago, and only a few months ago he handed it over to Tom.

“I said, rule one darling. You’ve broken it.” She’d forgotten how lovely that voice was, remembering how captivating it was to have him whispering in her ear.

“I heard what you said, Mr. Holland.”

“Call me Tom, you’ve more than earned that privilege.”

“This is my place of work, not some stupid nightclub, I keep things professional here.”

Neither of them take their eyes off the other, a silent war taking place between the two of them.

“Well, if you’re such a professional, stop looking at me like you’re wanting to fuck me.”

A small gasp leaves Stevi. She stands up to leave, gathering her things, and looks at him with venom in her eyes, “Mr. Holland, I’m afraid that this interview is over, if you would please talk to the receptionist she will reschedule you in with someone other than me.”

A small look of shock crosses Tom’s face before he too stands, reaching out to grab Stevi’s arm, “Wait, I'm sorry. Sit down, I’ll be civil.”

Reluctantly, she does. Placing her notebooks in front of her and pulling out the recorder. Before she begins she gives Tom a warning look, “One word, one single word out of line, and this is over.” To which he nods and sits back, hands folded in his lap, looking like a true business man.

***

The rest of the interview goes by smoothly, only a couple of suggestive looks being thrown her way before he bites his tongue. Stevi’s never been more relieved to finish something in her life, the tension between the two becoming almost unbearable as the interview went on. “Okay, I think that’s all we need for the article, a draft will be sent to your assistant to go over before we publish it in next week's business column.”

Stevi stands quickly, ready to put everything behind her and spend the rest of her day hiding in her office. Before she can leave, a hand is wrapped around her arm once again, and body right behind her. “Let me take you to dinner, darling. A reward for being good.”

The voice in her ear sends a shiver down her spine, and for a second she debates it, “Tom, I can’t. I don’t mix business with pleasure, this is already a conflict of interest.”

“More of those damn rules. Live a little, let your guard down for once.” He looks at her with pleading eyes, something that makes him look more like his true age. That feeling sneaks its way back into again, and for a moment, while she stares into his eyes, nothing else exists. Just the two of them and a world of possibilities.

“If I say yes, this stays between us. The people we are here, and the people we are then are not the same. My job may not seem dangerous to you, but it could be very bad for me if someone gets the wrong idea.”

Tom nods, he knows all too well what she means. “Tonight at 7, meet me at The Garden on 22nd, I’ll make the reservation.”

She agrees, lets him put his number in her phone, and gives Tom one last smile before heading down the hall to her office.

She jumps when she sees someone sitting at her desk, “James, what are you doing here?”

“What, can’t check in on my favourite captain?”

“Not without a secret agenda, and last I checked, I have nothing to report to you, I’m off duty.” Stevi walks towards him, pushing his legs off of her desk.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re never off duty. Not when you’re talking to men like that.” James points out the door, to where Tom can be seen talking to the receptionist.

“That is none of your business, James.”

“I want details, everything you can find out about him, on my desk by Friday, you know what’ll happen if it’s not. Have a good day Stevi.” And with that, James walks out of the room, leaving a chill hanging in the air.

Stevi suddenly can’t breathe, the four walls surrounding her feeling like a cage. She quickly grabs her things and walks to Dianes’ office, telling her there’s a family emergency and she’ll work on the article at home. Within minutes she’s scrambling to get into her car, dialing Poppys’ number, needing someone to calm her down.

She spends the rest of the day on Poppys’ couch trying to recover from her near mental breakdown. This life was never something she wanted, she’d been dragged into it by her ex. After he failed to complete a simple task, he was killed in their apartment, and she was responsible for finishing it out. But it’s never that simple, one task turned into two, and then four, and now she was too far in to be able to leave.

All too soon, it was 6:30 and she was leaving for her date with Tom. She’d left Poppys an hour ago, promising her that there was nothing to worry about, it had just been a bad day. She drove in silence, not wanting to focus on anything but the road. She got to the restaurant right on time, quickly being seated in one of the private rooms. She’d been here once before with her parents when she first moved to the city. They’d taken her out to celebrate and they’d spent the night drinking fancy wine and eating more food than they could’ve ever imagined.

Lost in her memories, she didn’t realise how much time had passed since she’d arrived. Checking her phone she saw that it was now quarter past, and no sign of Tom. She tries texting him, thinking maybe he’d gotten off of work late. By 7:30 she starts to panic, she’s 2 glasses of wine in and still no sign of him. To no avail, she calls him, worry turning into anger when it goes straight to voicemail.

It’s almost 8 when the waiter informs her that Tom has called, he won’t be making it, but to order whatever she likes and he’ll pay for it.

And so she sits there, wine glass in hand, wishing she’d never even met Tom.

[rexisnotyourwriter]

by @rexalexander and @postcardsanddaydreaming

After the Atlanta child murders, the Behavioral Science Unit is as busy as ever. With a new team member by their side, they take on what feels like a growing number of active serial killers as well as continue their interviews of already incarcerated subjects. Bill tries to track down Nancy and Brian with the hopes of repairing his marriage, while Wendy tries to take on a more active role in their research with an eager budding protégé at her side.

Read on AO3

*If you enjoy this, please like/reblog on tumblr and/or leave kudos/comments on AO3. Your feedback helps keep fic writers writing.*

Notes: As always, thanks to my beta fish @hardythehermitcrab​

Chapter 2: Feeling Like a Loner

The bell rang. The class full of children emptied in a flurry of squeals. The teacher breathed a sigh of relief, but stopped when she noticed she wasn’t alone. A pair of mousy braids sat by the window watching her peers spill out into the playground like ants under a log. They scattered, dispersing themselves amongst the jungle gym, the hopscotch marked concrete, and the small patch of grass they called a field.

The teacher softly called her name.

They’d had this conversation before, usually ending with her forfeiting her smoke break to stay in the classroom.

The girl didn’t turn around.

“You have to go outside today,” she added. “It’s a beautiful day. And look at those clouds. I think that one looks like a cow.”

The girl didn’t move.

“Sweetie.” The teacher put a hand on her shoulder. The girl finally turned to face her. “Why don’t you go outside, hmm?”

“Why?”

“Why? Because it’s fun. Look. Look at all the fun they’re having.”

The girl looked back out the window and contemplated.

“That doesn’t look fun to me,” she concluded, matter-of-factly.

“You need to go outside today.”

“Why?”

“Because teachers need a break, too, and I can’t supervise you in here,” she responded bluntly.

“Oh,” the girl replied. “Okay.”

She got up from her seat and grabbed her neatly folded cardigan from the cubby.

Once outside, she found a good vantage point - a mostly flat rock at the edge of the field where she can see most of the schoolyard.

A group of boys were playing jacks. They’d made it to foursies, from what she could tell. Another boy hovered around them asking to join, but they ignored him.

The girl turned away from them and took a rubber ball out of the front pocket of her overalls. She bounced it against the ground on her own. Then, she turned back to the boys, still steadily bouncing her ball. She watched. When the time was right, she launched her ball into their game, knocking the jacks out of a boy’s hand. They yelled. She caught her ball without missing a beat.

The girl smiled, then turned her attention to the jungle gym. Almost ten children were winding their bodies between the bars, some resting on levels, others climbing to the highest perch. The few children in the center looked like they were imprisoned. An acrobatic cage. One boy made it to the top, or rather almost. His feet were on the second highest bars, his hands on the highest. He put one foot up on the high bar and tested his balance, releasing the pressure on his other grounded foot. His hand slipped, but he got his grip in time to only suffer a minor embarrassment (one of his friends saw, and proceeded to laugh). The boy climbed down after that.

She looked down at her cream colored Mary Janes and tapped her toes together. In the corner of her eye, inching toward her, was a remarkably fuzzy caterpillar. It bobbed up and down like a wave, growing closer and closer to the shore of her shoe.

“I got it,” someone yelled.

Then thud.

The caterpillar disappeared under a grass stained sneaker belonging to the boy who “got it”. “It” was a rubber ball, and the boy she recognized as the one whose turn at jacks was interrupted.

He ran back to his friends, taking no notice of her or his victim. The insect, upon inspection, hadn’t been entirely crushed, and was still wriggling. She gingerly scooped it up with a sturdy leaf and rested it in one hand while she cupped her other around it like a shield. She watched it writhe with increasing intensity, then intermittently, then not at all.

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

On the following Monday morning, Bill was surprised to see that he had beat Holden in to work.

He poked his head in Wendy’s office.

“Captain America not in yet?”

“No,” she replied, barely looking up from the page in front of her.

“Maybe he finally got lucky,” Bill joked.

He got a smirk out of her that time.

Bill turned around and, seeing that Gregg was preoccupied with a phone call, didn’t bother closing the door.

“I’m going up to talk to Gunn,” he said softly.

“Good.” She paused. “Do you know what you’re going to tell him?”

“Marital problems.”

Wendy nodded her approval.

Gregg’s voice got louder from the hallway.

“Is he still on the phone?” Wendy asked.

Bill turned to confirm. “Yup.”

Wendy closed her file.

“This is ridiculous. We can’t be expected to assist in every single murder case across the country. We can’t even keep up with the inquiries.”

“What did Gunn say?”

She rolled her eyes.

“I haven’t really mentioned it, not explicitly. He’s not exactly receptive to my ideas. Knowing him, he would probably ask why Gregg was the one dealing with it and suggest I take over secretarial duties.”

“He’s not that bad, is he?”

Wendy’s eyes flicked up at him. Her look said it all.

“I’ll talk to him,” Bill decided. “Tell him we need to hire someone.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded.

Holden speed walked into the office, his forehead glistening with sweat.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bill greeted.

Wendy got up from her desk and joined Bill in the doorway.

“Sorry,” Holden muttered breathlessly.

“Is everything alright?” Wendy asked.

“What? Oh, yeah. I had to take the bus, but I forgot my wallet at home and…It’s been a morning.”

“How’s your car?”

“What happened to your car?” Bill interjected.

Holden, still exasperated, dropped his briefcase on the desk with a thud.

“It wouldn’t start when I went to leave the bar on Friday, so Wendy gave me a ride home.”

Bill threw a side-eyed glance at Wendy who wrinkled her nose in subtle disgust.

No, Bill.

“I got it towed to the shop on Saturday,” Holden continued, “but it wasn’t a dead battery. Turns out I need a new timing belt, and they couldn’t get one in until today. I have to pick it up in a couple hours because they close early, and when I called this morning it still wasn’t ready, which is why I had to take the bus. Hence…” He gestured to his state of disarray and exhaled.

“Happy Monday,” Wendy said before disappearing back into her office.

Bill got roped into a case that delayed his plan to talk to Gunn. It was almost 11am before he was finally able to go upstairs. Nearly 23 minutes later, Bill returned to the basement where Holden and Wendy appeared to be waiting for him. The pair looked at him expectantly.

“It went fine,” Bill admitted. “He gave me some sympathy about ‘the old ball and chain’ and poured me a finger of whiskey. As long as we stay on track and deliver, we’re good.”

“That’s great, Bill,” Holden said.

“And Gunn agreed about hiring an assistant,” Bill added, to Wendy’s relief. “A non-agent, but someone who can deal with the sensitive matter. He said he would talk to you about it.”

Wendy’s face dropped.

“Why me?”

Bill opened his mouth to explain, but stopped. He couldn’t find the right words.

She understood.

“Of course,” she added bitterly. Because I’m the woman.  

Sometimes she missed Boston.

“Oh, shoot,” Holden exclaimed, noticing the time. “I gotta go.”

“Did you send that profile to Osborn?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, I just faxed it over,” he replied, already halfway out the door.

“Kids,” Bill joked, shaking his head.

“So, how’d it really go?” Wendy inquired.

“It really did go fine,” he replied sincerely. “Better than expected, honestly.”

“But?”

Bill sat on the edge of the desk.

“I guess I still feel…uneasy about the situation with Brian. How would it look if the FBI found out my kid was involved in a murder.”

“But he wasn’t, Bill. They concluded he wasn’t responsible. It’s on the record.”

“I know. And I know that logically he thought the cross was a good idea,” he admitted. “I just don’t feel good about it. And now I can’t even keep an eye on him. I don’t know if he’s still wetting the bed. Or if he’s started sucking his thumb again, or if he’s spoken at all.”

Wendy offered him a sympathetic smile.

“From what you’ve told me, it seems likely that the regressions are a result of the traumatic experience. Nothing more.”

“I just feel so helpless.”

They sat in silence, neither knowing what else to say.

“If there’s anything I can do,” Wendy offered.

“Thanks. Really. I’m glad you’re around.”

Bill got up to leave.

Wendy passed by the fax machine on the way back to her office and picked up the pages of the profile Holden faxed to Alaska. She scanned the page, then stopped.

That little-

There was a knock.

“All by your lonesome, Dr. Carr?”

“Not anymore,” Wendy muttered under her breath.

She turned around to see Gunn standing in the doorway.

“I don’t know if Bill had a chance to mention it to you,” he said, making his way over to her.

“He did.”

“Good. HR has a standard secretary job posting. I’ll have them send it your way and you can let them know if there’s anything to be added. I trust you to select the applicants and conduct the interviews, but I need to sign off on the hire.”

“Isn’t this something that HR can handle on their own?”

“They don’t know what it’s like in the BSU. The intricacies of your operations. You’re the expert on that.”

She straightened her posture and folded her arms.

“You were involved in hiring Agent Smith, weren’t you?” he added, taking a few steps forward, closing the gap between them.

“Yes, but that was different,” she explained. “He’s actively involved in our work.”

“And so will the woman you hire.” She fought hard not to roll her eyes. “I thought you’d want to have a hand in who joins this team, Dr. Carr.”

“That’s -” she started, then stopped.

She took a breath.

“I feel that my time would be better spent focusing on our research,” she explained.

“And this is part of that,” Gunn stated confidently. “Everything that happens in this basement is. And beyond. All the cogs in the machine have to be well oiled and working together.”

His tone was final and his feet were already headed towards the door.

“Let me know if you haven’t gotten anything by the end of the week,” he added, already halfway out the door.

The phone rang, as if on cue.

She walked away, letting the sound echo in the empty room.

Wendy was in the break room getting her third coffee of the day when Holden returned from his errand.  

“Hey, is there enough left for me?” he asked, preemptively grabbing a paper cup.

Wendy continued pouring coffee into her cup until the pot was empty. Holden looked at her cup, full to the brim. She picked it up carefully and took a sip from the top, looking Holden square in the eyes, before walking past him back to the office.

He stood there for a few seconds, stunned, before following her.

“Hey,” he called, just as she was about to enter her office.

Wendy turned around, unimpressed.

“Did I miss something?” Holden asked.

She was amused by his question, but not happy.

“Yes, Holden,” she said with more than a hint of condescension. “You missed a significant portion of my professional opinion in the Alaska profile.”

He thought for a moment, trying to remember what she could have been referring to.

“The military thing?” Her look confirmed his guess. “I thought we agreed he didn’t fit the military description.”

“I very clearly stated that it was very likely he did work at the air base.”

“Yes, but then I said I disagreed and you dropped it, so-”

“So, you took that to mean I conceded.”

“Well…”

She’d had it.

Gregg, who took notice of their dispute, removed his headphones to spectate properly, albeit discreetly.

“Look,” Holden said in a softer voice. “I don’t want to argue.”

“If you can’t tell the difference between a rational discussion and an argument-”

“Do you want me to call them?” he interrupted. “Tell them we made a mistake and we’ll send a new assessment?”

Wendy weighed this option briefly.

“No,” she concluded. “The damage is done. It won’t look good if we change our mind unless we’ve been presented with new information.”

Holden exhaled loudly. She stared him down. It didn’t appear that he’d learned this lesson.

“What’s done is done,” she added.

She retired to her office, closing the door firmly behind her.

Gregg looked up at Holden. Holden stared back, trying to think of something to say. His mind drew a blank, and he walked away, shaking his head.

The first thing Wendy did when she got home was pour herself the remainder of her bottle of Pinot Gris. It filled her glass well past the acceptable half-way point, but who was there to judge her.

The second thing she did was check her answering machine. She always tried to do it casually - just a quick glance - as if someone might be watching and think she was neurotic. The little red bulb was dark, as it always was. It seemed like a silly purchase now, slowly gathering dust like her love life.

She took a large sip of wine and opened the fridge. It was sparse. There was half a carton of eggs, an opened container of hummus, a three inch block of cheddar, and a nearly empty carton of milk next to a half full carton of orange juice. The crisper contained a bruised apple, two oranges, and a few stalks of celery.

Unmoved by her options, Wendy opened the cupboard only to find a bag of dried apricots where there would normally be cans of tuna. She once again opened the fridge and took out the cheese, an orange, and two of the celery stalks. From the cupboard, she took out the dried apricots as well as a box of crackers from the one next to it.  She sliced the cheese and arranged it carefully on a plate next to a matching number of crackers. Next to the crackers was the celery, cut into sticks, followed by orange wedges and a handful of dried apricots completing the circle. She scribbled down “tuna” and “milk” on the notepad pinned to the fridge before bringing her dinner to the living room.

Wendy settled into her usual chair, curled her feet up, and turned on the television. It was quarter to the hour, right in the middle of any half-hour show and too near the end of a full hour program. She flicked channels through twice before stopping on an episode of Wheel of Fortune, which promptly went to a commercial break.

She took a bite of one of the celery sticks only to find it bitter. It hadn’t looked spoiled from the outside, but it’s hard to tell sometimes. She tossed the stick back onto her plate and grabbed an apricot to cleanse her palate. Much better.

A man from Sarasota made it to the final round, but couldn’t guess the puzzle. Wendy got it in four seconds. When the episode ended, she turned off the television and brought her briefcase back to her chair. She pulled out the file she brought home on John Wayne Gacy. The Killer Clown.

Gacy’s mug shot was more unique than most. He was looking away from the camera, off to the side, and smiling. It was as if he was having a pleasant conversation with one of the officers when they snapped his picture. He didn’t look nice per se, however he wasn’t glistening with sweat. This wasn’t surprising though, considering he admitted he knew he was going to be arrested. And he confessed willingly, although it was only after police had found the remains in his crawl space.

Wendy read through the details of the first convicted murder, Timothy McCoy - formerly known as the “Greyhound Bus Boy”. Gacy had left a family party to go look at a display of ice sculptures, then decided to lure the 16-year-old to his car from the Chicago Greyhound Bus Terminal. He was on his way to Omaha from Nebraska. Gacy drove him around Chicago, showed him the sights, then back to his house where he told McCoy he could stay the night. He even offered him a ride to the station in the morning in time to catch his next bus. According to Gacy, he woke up early in the morning to see McCoy standing in his bedroom doorway with a knife. Gacy got out of bed and charged at McCoy, who raised his hands in surrender, still holding the knife. It cut Gacy’s arm in the panic. Gacy, who was much larger than McCoy, wrestled the knife from him and banged his head against the wall. Gacy kicked him multiple times. He wrestled him to the ground, straddled him, and stabbed him repeatedly. Then, Gacy claims he cleaned the knife in the bathroom. When he went into the kitchen, he found an open carton of eggs and a slab of bacon, unsliced, on the table, which was set for two.

This poor boy just wanted to make him breakfast, as a thank you, and he died for it. All because he didn’t leave the knife in the kitchen.

Wendy swirled the remainder of her drink in her glass, then held her hand steady and watched the wine continue to swirl and splash around the curves, briefly gaining momentum before slowing to a soft ripple.

Maybe Gacy would have killed him anyways. Maybe he never meant to drive him to the station that morning. Maybe McCoy was always meant to end up in Gacy’s crawl space, covered in concrete.

She took a sip and turned the page.

[crystalsmentalhealth]

Talking about the Brattleboro Retreat in Brattleboro, Vermont

I recently spent two weeks at the Retreat and wanted to share my experiences both good and bad about it. 

I arrived at the Retreat in mid-June of 2021 after a four day stay at the Emergency Department of my local hospital. Originally I had not wanted to go to the Brattleboro Retreat because it was such a big campus and I equated that with busy and loud and impersonal. The Retreat would challenge my assumptions.

Getting There

I didn’t drive myself. As I said I spent four days in the ED of my local hospital and so I arrived via ambulance. The ride was stressful and nauseating. I was already stressed and nervous and the mountainous winding roads did absolutely nothing to help. I didn’t lay in the stretcher, but sat in a back-facing seat with no arm rests and with a blood pressure cuff around my left arm. 

The trip took about an hour and except for a few questions from the person riding in the back with me, it was spent in nearly complete silence, which again, did nothing to help my nerves. There was no reassurance or even light conversation.

My Arrival

When we got there, they grabbed my bags for me, probably because I wasn’t allowed to have them yet, and with one person before me and one person behind me, lead me up the stairs to the admissions office. We were met at the door by an admissions person and I was dropped off like an Amazon package. The ambulance personnel left and I was officially at the Retreat.

I was first led to Security. They dropped off my bags with Security, and asked me to empty my pockets. I had none and told them such. Then I was led to an exam room where the woman who was with me found a gown that would fit me and held it up in front of her. I was then told to strip completely. I balked, but obeyed. First went my shirt, then my bra, then I stepped into the gown. Then with that covering me, I wiggled out of my pants and underwear. She gave me a pair of hospital pants to put on so I wasn’t completely bare. Then I was shown a chair and given a pair of huge grippy socks to wear. One size fits all, I guess.

After that the lady took my blood pressure, my pulse, and checked my oxygen levels. Then she took my temperature.  My clothes and shoes were sent to Security with the rest of my things. I had off-brand crocs as shoes so I had no idea what they needed to check for, but off they went.

After the clothing change I was led to an office. I felt so awkward standing in a grey hospital gown, blue hospital pants, no panties, and those huge grippy socks, in front of two nicely dressed office personnel. They let me have a seat and the questions and paperwork began.

What was my insurance? Did I know about the extra inpatient days allowed? Who was my primary care physician? My therapist? My psychiatrist? My case worker? Did I have an Advanced Directive? What are the addresses? Did I want a male or female provider? There were so many questions! 

Then it was sign here, and here, and here, and here, and here.

After that I was given a green folder that said Welcome to Tyler 2 which contained various information that I would need during my time there. My patient Bill of Rights, how to file a complaint or grievance. That sort of stuff. 

Then it was off to another area and now they wanted a urine sample. I had already done two at the hospital and really didn’t need to pee, but I tried. I assume it was for a drug test, but I have no real clue.

Then I was sent off to another exam room, this time for a full physical. She asked me all about my medical history, whether I was having normal bowel movements or not, all about my diabetes, my family history (cancer, cancer, cancer, cancer, heart disease, cancer, kidney failure, cancer), she even checked my reflexes. The ARNP that examined me had the neatest notebook. It was electronic and I was fascinated by it. 

(At the time of writing this I’ve only been home for two full days and I still have a very clingy cat who is currently laying on my left hand so if you catch a typo that kitty has caused me, please let me know.)

After the physical I was given one outfit to wear back, sans bra because my bra was underwire, and I was sent to a seat to wait to be sent to the unit.

The lady who watched over me offered me something to drink while I waited and when she offered milk I took her up on it. Unfortunately it was 1% milk, which I really hate, but hey, milk, so I drank it while I waited.

I didn’t have to wait long. Before long a Security guard and a nurse from the unit I would go to came down and led me down one corridor, in one elevator, through a cafeteria, up another elevator, and finally I was on the unit.

Tyler 2 

The first thing I noticed when I got on the unit was that the bedrooms were singles. Yes! I hate sharing my bedroom in hospitals. At the worst, I’d once had to share with three other people stuffed into a two person bedroom. Two poor souls had had to sleep on cots. So I was very happy to see that I would have my own room.

I was shown into an interview room for yet even more paperwork and questions. All this is the business of the psychiatric hospital and it comes at the literal worst time of your stay, the beginning. When you’re scared and your nerves are raw, and your mental health is at it’s worst.

A three question questionnaire was first. Why are you here? How can we help? What are your coping skills? Depression, anxiety, suicidal ideation. I don’t know. Reading and journaling.

Then there was a check list of things that helped when I was feeling bad. I was fascinated to see that laying down in my room was one of the options. Most hospitals I had been in forbade that, with some going so far as to lock the doors to the bedrooms during the day so people didn’t sleep the day away. It was a pleasant surprise, and I checked that off along with a few others that I felt applied. 

Then, the nurse, and we’ll just call her Rose, asked me if I was hungry and told me that they always had sandwiches on the unit and that the kitchen which held milk, orange juice, flavored water, cold water, hot water, coffee, teas, and various snacks was open 24/7. I declined both sandwich and snack.

Finally, I was left alone for a couple of minutes and I had a moment to just breathe. It was a Thursday according to the giant whiteboard that had the day’s schedule on it. Most of the groups were over with.

A little bit later a bag was brought up with my clothes and another with the few things I was allowed to have: my Bible; two coloring books; two books (A Street Cat Named Bob and A Wrinkle in Time); my toothbrush, my hair brush, and my composition notebook; were given to me. The clothes I wasn’t given yet. I was told by a nurse that because of COVID they washed everything that came on the unit whether it was clean or not and I would get my clothes once they were dry.

I was then shown my room. Number 219 was to be my home for the foreseeable future. It was a fair sized room, the walls painted hospital blue, the floor had boring brown patterned tiles, There was a plastic chair, a twin size bed with a single pillow, and brown blanket, and bottom sheet. There was no flat sheet. 

There was a set of built in shelves and a small alcove with an unbreakable mirror and large shelf where I put my green folder as well as my other personal belongings that I was permitted to have. I hung around in there for a few minutes before wandering back out and awkwardly looked around.

It was soon 8:30pm and Rose, who was my nurse that night, offered me my bedtime medications. I accepted and went to bed. 

The Schedule

I slept fitfully that night. I was scared, they checked on me every 15 minutes, and it wasn’t quite dark when I went to bed. I woke up obscenely early the next morning, which is very unusual for me, but I attribute it to the uncomfortable mattress, the lack of my comfort item; a stuffed cat named Fat Cat that I sleep with, and the fact that my room had a double window that faced directly East. The sun rises at about 4:45am right now, so it woke me up at around 5:30am that morning.

I wandered out, thinking it was much later than it actually was, since it was fully light out. I sleepily blinked at the analog clock and tried to decipher it. Inwardly I groaned at the time. To kill time, I awkwardly wandered around the unit again, and I think I laid back down for a little while. 

Eventually I left my room again and it was 7:30am. Shift change. I can’t remember who my nurse was that morning, but by 8am it had become quite the busy place with the morning nurses, the mental health workers, the social workers, and the group leaders milling about the nurses station. 

I noticed that the whiteboard had changed with the day, and so I glanced at the Friday schedule.

8am - Breakfast 9am - Community Meeting 10am - OT Movement 11am - Psychotherapy 12pm - Lunch 1pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 2pm - OT Activities 3:30pm Shift Change 4pm - Courtyard (yellow level) 5pm - Supper 6:15pm - Game room/small courtyard (yellow level) 7pm - Wrap Up 8pm - Free Time 9pm - Relaxation 10pm - Phones/computer/TV off

Yes, we had a computer. Some guy we’ll just call J tended to hog it, but so long as it wasn’t group, before morning shift change or after 10pm or 11pm on Friday night and Saturday night, anybody could use it. Of course Facebook and YouTube were blocked, but Vimeo wasn’t. Can somebody please tell me the difference between YouTube and Vimeo? 

I didn’t really go to groups that first day, and I was on Red level, so I wasn’t allowed outside even if I had wanted to. I did however see the Social Worker, a very nice woman we’ll just call M. and my doctor via ZOOM, Dr. L. 

All of the staff was really nice to me, and the unit, which at that point had a census of 19, was actually fairly quiet for the most part.

When 8am hit, and the breakfast trays arrived, I asked where I should go to eat. I was told I could eat on the porch, the day room, or in my room. Eating in peace alone in my room. Yes, please. I took my tray, got a carton of milk, and walked down the hall to my room. 

When I pulled the lid off my plate, I discovered eggs, home fries, and a corn muffin. I also had some fruit. I cautiously tried the potatoes and found them to be quite good, but couldn’t eat anything else so I took my tray back.

I hovered awkwardly around the schedule board until somebody brought me a chair.

Then it happened. My stomach began churning. I went to the nurses station and told one of the three nurses that I had a bit of an upset stomach and could I have something for it? She looked up something and told me I could have some Tums. She sent me to the med window and used some fancy machine to dispense the Tums. I stuck them in my mouth and chewed. I swallowed. It was then that I knew I had made a mistake. I literally felt the Tums hit my stomach, felt my stomach cramp, and then I was vomiting. 

After that experience and the cleaning up thereof, I got my morning meds at around 9am, and soon found myself back in the interview room, this time with a nutritionist. At least I think that was Friday. It could have been Monday. Regardless, I talked to her about being sick (it wasn’t the first time, I had gotten sick back in the ED as well), my lack of appetite, my diabetes, the medication for diabetes I was on (2000mg of Metformin and .5mg of Ozempic). She gave me some information the nutritionist I had talked to from my doctor’s office had already given me, then ordered Glucerna for me three times per day.

Glucerna is the diabetics version of Ensure for those of you who don’t know.

I slept a lot that day, and I’m pretty sure I refused lunch and maybe supper. They checked on me - and everybody else - every 15 minutes, but otherwise didn’t pester me.

The next day, of course, started the weekend. I can’t remember the exact schedule for the weekend, but it was far, far more boring than then weekday. There was just Community Meeting which I wandered into but didn’t participate in, a couple more courtyard opportunities than on the weekdays, more free time, Wrap Up and Relaxation. Relaxation happened at 9pm, but I already considered that bedtime as that was when I got my bedtime medication.

Sunday was just a repeat of Saturday with one bright exception. Sunday Sundaes. At around 2pm we got ice cream with sundae toppings that we could have on it. I don’t think I got it that first Sunday, but I can’t quite remember.

Monday doesn’t bring any particular memories except that that’s when I started attending a group here and there.

Meeting Nathan

Then Tuesday came, and I met Nathan. Nathan was a Psych intern who is now no longer there, so I’m not afraid of using his name. Nathan did 11am Psychotherapy, but had been on vacation the week before as well as Monday. I liked him instantly. He spoke quietly, thoughtfully, gently, and never pressed for answers if the person didn’t want to or couldn’t.

At first, we only spoke in group, but after one group disintegrated into chaos he ended it early and offered to speak to me one-on-one. The one-on-one time I got with Nathan, which eventually became every weekday, became the best, most helpful part of my stay at the Retreat. Some of his questions were hard. They were either highly thought provoking or brought on strong emotions, but he was very skilled in not pushing too hard and always bringing me back to the present if I got too lost in the past. 

I think I opened up more to Nathan in the week and a half that we spoke than I ever did in the two years I’ve seen my normal therapist. 

The Nightmares

I’ve suffered from nightmares for a very long time. In my nightmares I’ve been raped, had my home invaded, seen demons, had my parents stolen away by a dragon (that one happened twice. Same stupid dragon too.), been kidnapped, been chased around Wal-Mart by paramedics with a stretcher, and so on and so forth. The nightmares I suffered at the Retreat were something else entirely.

The dream I remember most, and let me list off some trigger warnings real quick: blood; abortion; abuse; infant death; decomposition; bad parenting; bad medical professionals, was about this young woman who tried to do some sort of home abortion that got botched. She went to the hospital and they sent her strait to surgery where they cut her open with no painkillers or anesthesia. The baby was tiny, but healthy and viable, so they took her out of the young woman’s womb, and haphazardly stapled the woman’s abdomen back together. 

Then the dream began to focus on the baby, but not in linear time, but rather in snapshots. In the first snapshots the baby was fine. Pink, perfect, beautiful little girl dressed in frills. Then the next day’s photographs and the baby’s face was turning black in places. The next; her eyes turned murky and there was more decomposition. Mind you, while she’s decomposing, she’s still alive. Then her little fingers turn black and fall off, and it continues like this until the fifth day when the baby finally dies.

The mother, who was recovering from her own trauma, couldn’t have cared less about her baby.

The nightmare turned weird after that and I don’t remember what happened next, but I continued to have vicious nightmares during my stay there.

Dr. L tried to treat them with Prazosin. but I found that it made my nightmares more vivid. Then she tried to get me in a deeper sleep so the dreams wouldn’t wake me up, but that only got me caught in the nightmares and unable to wake up. 

We never did figure out how to ease the nightmares and keep me asleep at the same time. Right now we’re trying a higher dose of Gabapentin, also known as Neurontin. I guess we’ll see how it works out.

Strange Characters 

There were some...interesting characters at the Retreat. There was one guy who we’ll call J. You may recall him from my complaints about him being a computer hog. He suffered from delusions of grandeur and I believe psychosis. One time I was in the open area near the nurses station he began staring at me suspiciously. Then, after a couple of very awkward moments he asks me, “are you an Imperial or a Rebel?” I told him I had no idea what he was referring to. Miss J who was sitting near by goes, “she’s an imperial, she’s a good girl.” Then J nods and says  “I know she’s my sister in Christ, so she must be good.”

I still have no idea what he meant by Imperial or Rebel. Is it a Star Wars thing? If so I thought the Rebels were the good guys. I’m so confused. 

Miss J was a homeless woman who had been there for nearly nine weeks. She was very nice to me, but she mumbled a lot and I had to keep asking her to repeat herself. 

M was a strange old lady. She would sit at the nurses station and laugh and laugh and laugh as loudly as she could, then all of the sudden she’d be declaring one of the housekeepers an angel on earth and how he should be protected and how everybody else was basically garbage. She eventually got taken out via ambulance.

A was another strange woman. Having been there since May 27th, 2021, she was there involuntary, She talked to herself a lot, drank loads of coffee, walked in and out of groups, and was best buddies with a woman who liked to be called Rabbit, as her real name, the same name as A, triggered her. A and Rabbit were thick as thieves and fed off of each other’s chaos.

Rabbit liked to sing at the top of her lungs when she was happy and when she was angry she would file a grievance, announce loudly that Obama was her father and that you (the nurse she was screaming at) aren’t her boss. She was nice enough to me, but I went out of my way to be as non-intrusive as possible.

Then there was D. D was 30-years-old, claimed to have 12 children. D was volatile, a substance abuser who enjoyed “a drink, some weed, and some coke”. Pretty sure she didn’t mean the soda. D had a shadow who had to write down what she was doing every five minutes. I don’t know exactly why, for the most part, volatile or not, she was pretty chill. She dressed provocatively and the first time she spoke to me it was early morning and we were on the porch.

She asked me why I was there. I told her depression. She asks my why I was depressed. I admitted that there was a lot of trauma in my past. She tells me she’s been (tw:rape) raped all her life, and then proceeded to tell me that I shouldn’t be depressed because I was pretty and thin. Now. I’m smaller than D was, because I’ve never had children, let alone 12 of them, but I’m 5′3″ and 210 pounds; thin is not an adjective I would use to describe me. 

She then proceeds to tell me that I needed a better bra. I was wearing a soft low support sports bra, so yeah, my chest area was very un interesting. I told her I was just wearing something I could sleep comfortably in. She told me to shop at Victoria’s Secret for some better bras and I’d feel great. 

After that, D decides to mention the gray in my hair. She says “you should get extensions to make your hair long and pretty, or better yet, shave your head and wear wigs. It’s what the black girls do.” She then went on about how wigs could really look good and how I’d have so much fun with it that I’d forget all about being depressed and how there were some sites where you could buy some good wigs for really cheap.

As I recall, I was fairly unresponsive during her spiel and walked away as soon as it wasn’t rude to. 

The Really Bad Day

I don’t recall exactly what day it was, time blurs for me on a good day, and I wasn’t having any good days while I was at the Retreat, but one day was really bad.

TW: Suicide TW: Self-Harm

I was really, really suicidal, and I told the nurse I was talking to that. She asked if I had a plan, and for the first time I really did. I told her I would wait until right after a check - remember we got checked on every 15 minutes - then I would take a pair of my pants and wrap them around my neck and strangle myself. 

Then she asked if I intended to follow through with the plan. I wanted to, I really did, but I also didn’t want to cause trouble, and that’s a huge issue with me, so I told her no. And that was the truth. I was suicidal, I did have a plan. I had a detailed plan actually. But I didn’t really intend of following through.

As you might expect, she had to report that to my doctor. Dr. L. spoke to me about how I was feeling and later, about five minutes after I had gotten on the computer to use Duolingo to distract myself, (See, I was using coping skills.), the nurse I had spoken to, and who I liked quite a lot, came to me and said that Dr. L wanted them to temporarily confiscate my clothes and take the sheet and blanket off my bed. It was to be replaced by blankets that couldn’t be ripped. Nurse E told me it wasn’t a punishment, it was a safety precaution, but I was so embarrassed and felt punished. I was allowed to keep the weighted blanket they had let me borrow, and my pillow, but other than that they took every bit of fabric in the room.

I don’t know if it was a good move or not. I just know that I wanted things back to ‘normal’, as though anything in a psych hospital could be normal, but the next day I lied to Dr. Lambert and told her I was feeling better. She said I could have my stuff back, but for some reason when I asked a nurse later on, she told me that there were no orders about it from Dr. L. 

I asked again the next day and was finally able to get my linens and clothes back. I even got an extra pillow, for which I was very grateful for as my original pillow had been quite flat and hard.

The Road to Discharge

I was originally supposed to have been released on June 29th, a Tuesday, but I had to admit to Dr. L that I just didn’t feel like I could be safe at home yet. Not to mention that we were still trying to deal with my nightmares and sleep issues.

Dr. L and M, my social worker began giving me assignments to do. I was to fill out a safety plan, which I did. M had me write a letter to my regular therapist about the changes I needed her to make to improve our sessions. I am terrified to read it to her, but I really need to. I was given a huge stack of DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) information and worksheets to fill out, Nathan had me write something about a cousin of mine who had passed away due to an overdose of Fentanyl, and so I wrote her a letter telling her how much I missed her, how I was angry she was gone, disappointed that she couldn’t tell me she was back on drugs, how I was angry at her mom for getting her hooked on drugs in the first place, and ways I could have helped if she had just let me.

Meanwhile, people found out that I could make things out of the Model Magic that they had in the Contraband/Sensory room. I made I can’t even remember how many cats for people. I also made roses, and one dragon. 

I was also writing dark poetry, just trying to purge my dark thoughts and get them out on paper.

Nathan continued to have one-on-one therapy with me each weekday, even if he only had half an hour.

I was meeting with my social worker daily, which they normally didn’t do, but when she realized that I wouldn’t go to them if I needed something, she decided to head it off, and meet with me, even if it were only a couple of minutes, each week day.

Finally, we decided on a day. Friday, July 2, 2021. I was so nervous, but so excited to come home and see my furbaby, Loki. 

When the day came, I dressed in the nicest clothes that I had brought, which was a pair of elastic waist jeggings and my pink Cat Mom t-shirt which everybody loved. I only went to one group that day, and that was Psychotherapy, and I had my meeting with Nathan. I had one last meeting with Dr. L. and my social worker. My nurse that evening gave me my treatment plan which had my diagnoses. (Major depressive disorder, severe; Borderline Personality Disorder; and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

Just as supper arrived I got the word that my ride was there. 

Final Thoughts

Being at the Brattleboro Retreat was a difficult experience, but it was also a positive experience. In the beginning I was mad I wasn’t at the place where I had wanted to go, which was the Windham Center, but by the end of my first week there, I had decided to make the best of where I was. I didn’t like all the nurses, I definitely had my favorites and those I dreaded, not that they were ever mean to me, but I’m not sure, there’s just people you don’t like, you know? 

I was on a great schedule while I was there. I was up no later than 8am and went to bed around 9pm, I ate at specific times. I got my medicine at specific times, and that routine was very comforting. Did I keep to it when I got home? 

No. It’s currently 12:26 in the morning and I’m working on this still. 

I’m still drinking my Glucerna, no matter that it costs me $40 a week for three a day, but I just don’t want to eat. Oh, I nibble. I’ve eaten some chocolate graham crackers and sipped on a 20oz Vanilla Coca Cola over the last four days. I just don’t eat. 

I learned, while I was there, that it’s okay to speak up, to take up space, to have a voice, even if it’s quiet, I learned that it’s okay to get angry or ask for help. I can ask people for what I need. I don’t know how well I’ll be able to apply what I learned, but that’s always the hardest part of learning any new skill. 

I know that this has been a huge amount of reading, but I wanted to give you a detailed example of what a psychiatric hospital is like. I hope that it informs you and I hope that if you’re heading to a psychiatric hospital or treatment center that maybe after reading this you’ll have less fear and anxiety because you have some clue as to what to expect.

I would also like to let my readers know that these are just my personal experiences in an American psychiatric hospital. I have no idea about British hospitals or European hospitals or even hospitals in other parts of the United States. My experiences in hospitals in Florida is a stark contrast to my experience in Vermont hospitals. I find Vermont’s response to medical care and psychiatric care in general is substantially better than Florida’s. I’ll do a post on that later.

Ask for help. Take up space. Use your voice.

National Suicide Hotline: 800 273-8255 Crisis Text Line: Text START to 741741

By the way, if you need me to tag another trigger word, please just send me a message and I’ll edit the tags to take your trigger word in consideration.

[princessrainbows]

Genuine Laughter

Title: Genuine Laughter

Warnings: Mentions of; Depression, Suicidal thoughts/attempts(maybe?) Alcohol intake. (The reader is the depressed one out of the paring!!) Mention of the reader’s Quirk being Teleportation. Ends with fluff

Words: 2k+

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something for a while now. Seeing so many of the Keigo x reader blogs that I currently follow rn, has hugely inspired me to write up a small drabble!

Paring(s): Keigo Takami | Hawks x Fem! Reader

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             Depression is like battling a 200 foot Dragon every day. It’s not something so easy to overcome. Many people don’t even know when  somebody they know have depression whenever it’s brought up in a conversation.

They’ll think that everything is fine and dandy, and that the person who mentioned the mental illness is trying to find attention when, in reality...They just want to be loved, cared for, and helped. They don’t want their thoughts to be true, they want to be saved from them.

So, when you, ever so casually, mentioned that you felt like dying one day to Keigo, it caught him off guard. It really bothered him that somebody  so smart and so powerful just...Wanted to give it all up. “Hey hey, what’s the matter dove? Something bothering you” He asked, noticing that you where....Off, and have been for a long while now that he thought about it.

       That night stuck with you. The fact that he picked up on your casual self-loathing habits of talking about death so casually like that, surprised you to say the least. Most of the time, people around you would either scoff or just ignore you, or Meme your mental illness, thinking that’s what you wanted to do since, that’s what you’d always do to hide the pain you felt all the time.

Being a hero isn’t that easy. Especially with a quirk as powerful as your own, your in constant demand all the time. Always teleporting everywhere to save people and give back-up to pro-hero’s who need it. And now that you where sought out by The Commission people who raised Hawks, you’ve become his body guard so to speak. Sure, he might be fast, but, you can match up in speed thanks to your quirk.

So, not only are you in high demand, you never get to catch a break! Hell, you didn’t even want the spotlight! So, this made you start becoming depressed. You where so busy all the time. You barely got any real decent rest, you hardly have time to yourself for a nice bubble bath, or read a cool book.

You did your best to hide everything from everybody. You’d play it off and fake-laugh with people that would question whether or not you where really okay or mentally sane at the time of the conversation/interaction.

         But, you didn’t take into account for Hawks noticing it. He noticed everything. He noticed your facial expression visibly changing with every minute of the day depending on your mood. He’d notice the way you’d get snippy at different people if you’d woken up to a particularly bad mental day for you. He EVEN noticed that one day when you locked yourself up in your bedroom at his place around 8:30pm at night. He heard your weak sobs underneath the blanket.

The man was like a Dog with his hearing. he heard and saw everything. But, he knew that if he asked, you’d joke it off and turn down his help.

It wasn’t until when things got REALLY bad for you was when he stepped in and demanded that you explained everything to him. You had three drinks that night after poppin’ in quite a lot of Tylenol pills for your severe Migraine you where having that same day. You just wanted it to stop so you could be Okay for once.

After some prying, you finally told him what’s been happening. You told him that you’ve been battling with Depression and your Suicidal thoughts for the past several months. You even mentioned that your PTSD was starting to act up again, which just made things worse for you in the end.

He didn’t show any emotion. he just...Stared at you, in pure shock. You’ve been battling this battle by yourself this entire time that the two of you have been seeing each other, you’ve kept EVERYTHING to yourself until you blew up and tried ending it all.

It terrified him. He didn’t do anything out of worry that he might make it worse for you, but also, he felt like he should have done something, ANYTHING to have helped! “...Oh god........I’m so sorry” was all that he could really say before you passed out from being so damn tired, drunk, and dizzy from the Tylenol pills you took that day. Falling right into his lap, all he did was let you stay there and fall asleep.

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

             That happened two months ago. You never really FULLY changed but, you noticed that you weren’t as bad as you where back then. Actually, you made a little chart marking down the Really Bad Days, from the Good/Okay days, and you’ve never had a single Really Bad Day since then. You’re days from two months ago to now have just been Meh/Okay and sometimes, even Good!

Today was different for you. When you woke up, it was around 11am, you felt...Light. Like as if you where floating in the air. But, it wasn’t a bad feeling by any means! Which lifted your spirits up quite a bit.

You reach to your cell phone and check your stuff, ignoring the majority of it except for Keigo’s messages (and selfies) and your Boss’ message, which woke you right out of bed! You blinked at it with your glasses on and notice a message from him: [”You’ve been invited to a Pro-Hero exclusive Gathering. Along with Hawks, Endervour, and many others. Dress nicely, and behave.”] Blinking several times, you groaned, falling back on the bed with an arm over your eyes, pouting in annoyance, “I hate fancy parties...” you sighed out loud.

Today was a really good day for you and your mental state. You weren’t smiling by any means but, you weren’t frowning either. You did your usual routine before heading out to work, since you’re with the Commission now and not some Hero agency, you’ve been given permission to have your own schedule (with the help from Hawks so that way he could keep an eye on you of course.)

“---And since I’m in a good mood today....I’ll give you a minute of a head start to try and run.” You say before grinning as you watched the group of bad guys try and flee with the stolen loot from the local store you where shopping at for a Brunch. “Too Slow..” You commented, teleporting right in front of them, grabbing the enemies uniforms and rolling your eyes as they tried running.

The police where called, and you where thanked for your efforts, “Wow! You look happy today y/n! Something happened?” The officer noticed your mood and commented on it, you shrugged, giving a slight chuckle, “Nothing in particular! I just feel good today that’s all~” you cheered before waving them off, seemingly having left them dumbfounded by your response.

           You had a really good day of just, doing whatever you wanted! Holding your drink in your hand with a small snack in the bag in your other hand, you walked by a clothing store with several outfits in the window. You noticed a very nice looking dress with a paired Tuxedo beside it, shrugging you walked into the store, you DID need a dress for tonight’s Por-Hero exclusive Gathering after all! Even if they weren’t your favorite thing to wear.

“Hi there miss! Welcome to our store! is there anything that I can do for you?” You where greeted by a worker who wore a very nice business suit, you took a pause from your drinking and looked at her outfit, “Actually...Yeah. Can I ask where you got that outfit? See, I’m heading to a fancy ball and stuff...But, I’m not that much of a Fancy Dress type of person.” You replied, gesturing your jaw at her outfit, as to not point since that would’ve been rude.

“Oh sure! We actually just recently added these types of outfits to out store so, we’d be happy to have a pro-hero wear one!....You are Pro-Hero Y/N correct?” You nodded in response, sipping on your drink. You followed the business woman to the stores selection and looked around...The shop was nice despite how cold it was.

It didn’t take you that long to find what you wanted. Coming out of the change room in front of the business woman, you stood there with a blows, a nice pair of black work pants, fancy black shoes, and a nice jacket to cover yourself with. Once you changed out of it and went to the cash, you purchased the outfit and thanked the woman for the help.

           You returned home with your now, not so hot Brunch and outfit in tow, getting ready for the fancy ball party for tonight while eating at the same time. You weren’t positive that you were going to have a good night but hey, you where invited! You couldn’t say no! Especially since you where in a good mood, you figured ‘eh, why not? Keigo’s gonna be there anyways so~’ and went with it.

A few hours had past, and it was time for the gathering. You rode in a somewhat fancy vehicle to the location of the party. Getting out of the car, you could already tell that eyes where on you. You ignored them, and thanked the driver and went into the building.

Using the elevator, you went up to the highest floor, which was a party room dedicated to pro-hero’s and their parties. You were slightly nervous since your mental state was still...Not exactly the best but, a lot better than a couple months ago. Putting those thoughts aside, you walked into the entrance area. You saw two doors both opened with two guards there, one stopped you and looked down, “Ma’am, this is a Pro-Hero party. Please show proof that you’ve been invited or we’ll have to remove you from the premise.” You sighed in annoyance, knowing that the guy was just doing his job. You pulled out your Hero License and showed it to him. He nodded and allowed you in.

Walking into the main area, you stood in awe, ‘They really went all out huh?’ You thought to yourself, staring up at the fancy decorations that seemed to blend in well with everything else in the room. You took in the atmosphere, not used to the Party life At All, staring off into the area as you listened to the soft music playing on the small stage area. “Wow! I didn’t think you’d show up of all people!” You hear a familiar voice from a loud woman behind you. Her grin was wide and she was excited to see more people coming to the party, “Yeah....The Commission had invited me over. I’m assuming it’s to keep an eye on hawks since he’s been invited as well...” You automatically noticed the wingless man near the farthest end, standing beside Endervour, laughing it up with the small group that gathered there for the night.

“...You know y/n. Most of the public knows your not a party person. Just imagine the press when they get a hold of this! ‘Y/N seen at a fancy Galla ball with Pro-Hero Hawks by her side!’ haha, they’ll get a good scoop for that one~” She chuckled, patting you on the back shoulders gently before walking towards the crowd giving them a wave. You groaned...You really hate the media being in your face all the time. So, something like this would DEFINITELY, be a pain in the ass to deal with.

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

                 The party continued on for the night, you talked and hung out with everybody at the party. You also did your job and reported to your boss at what was happening with Hawks, telling them that he was behaving well and having a blast. Once you sent in the report, you decided to spend the rest of the night with Keigo, walking up to the small group of pro-hero’s that he was telling a story too. “---And even tho I was trying to make the poor woman laugh, safe it to say, that didn’t help my situation at all. it just made the other’s more angry--” The group chuckled with him, and you just rolled your eyes.

The party went on like this for hours. By the time you where ready to go back home, it was around 12am. You and Keigo spent the last hour going home. He was just a tad bit drunk and a little bit silly as well, trying to handle him when he’s a bit drunk was hard but, you somehow managed.

“Hey.....Hey y/n....” He mumbled, trying his best to keep what little composure that he had left. “Yes Kei?” You asked, grunting while you placed him on your couch, grinning, he pulled you down into a cuddle, you didn’t mind it at all. Since you were quite tired from the party, having been out for a long time on your feet for the most part.

Keigo wasn’t really talking per say. He was mumbling random words in between some cute sweet nothings to you as he held you close to him. “Hey...y/n?.....” He whispered in your ear, first telling you how much he loved you...And then, telling you a silly joke that was, actually pretty funny! You couldn’t help but snicker then laugh in his chest, burying your face in it, you snorted off and on until you could breathe from the laughing again.

Keigo blinked in surprise. he managed to make you laugh.....Like, genuinely laugh at one of his jokes. He didn’t put any thought into it at all, he just went with it, and that made you laugh until you snort-laughed in his chest.

           This made your night. Just that one time with Keigo on the couch, making you laugh. You felt at ease, happy, even safe. You don’t want to forget this night, you want to cherish it for the rest of your life.

With Keigo being your partner, your depression and suicidal thoughts where a little bit easier to handle. Because you were no longer by yourself dealing with them anymore. You had Keigo to help. And you knew that this man would do anything to make your life, a little less painful to deal with.

[innittowinit]

Run Rabbit Run (2/3)

Summary:

When Assassin Technoblade receives an offer he can't refuse, to kill the king, he starts to live a double life as a knight inside the castle walls.

Unexpected to him, he meets a pair of troublesome brothers, a skilled gardener and a father figure in the process, Can he go through with it this time?

AO3

Living in the castle was… different, if he were to put it lightly.

On normal days, Techno would wake up towards 11am, check to see if any potential clients had sent him a letter, and then carry out any assassinations that he still needed to do. Needless to say, jobs never normally needed him to infiltrate the royal workers, most of the time it was just a quick shot of a bow or a swift swing of a sword.

Working quickly and efficiently was what he was known for, in the underbelly of crime.

That being said, a lifetime of working as a criminal had never prepared him for the strict regime that came with being a knight. He had been led to a large dorm room filled with the other knights by Wilbur and Tommy on his first day here, that had been the first shock, he wasn’t used to not having any private space. The next shock had been waking up at 5am, he had to pull himself out of bed and put on his new iron armour, trying the whole while to remind himself that this was in fact worth it for the money he’d be receiving by the end of it.

He had been given a surprising amount of freedom, considering he was the new guy, he had half been expecting someone to follow him around and make sure that he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t be. Instead, he’d been given the loose order to just make rounds around the castle grounds and make sure everything was running smoothly. A small percentage of the guards had also been sent down to make their rounds in the main kingdom but he supposed it must be a fairly small area if they didn’t even need all their men down there.

Recently the sheer abundance of gold surrounding him was really affecting his concentration and self-control, naturally, his instincts were screaming at him to drop everything and grab something, anything, to keep for himself. Quite a few times, he had been tempted to ignore the mission and just give in to what he wanted but he knew that would be a sure fire way to ruin any trust he’d be able to build between the fellow workers and the king.

His so-called self control was really put to the test when he was called to stand guard when the King made Wilbur and Tommy try out some new golden additions to the uniform.

Of course though, the Knight uniform was Iron as always, all he needed to do was stand with the king as he judged the boys, trying out the new clothes. It was a little ironic that he had made the mistake of hiring the assassin to protect him from assassins.

“Techno, I don’t think I’ve really spoken to you as much as I should have” The King had sighed as the two waited for Wilbur and Tommy to finish getting changed. “You’re a real character, you know? No matter how hard I try I can’t read you”

“Sometimes, not reading people is for the better, Sir”

The heaviness of the statement rolled off Techno’s tongue easily, not realising how incriminating it really was. Luckily though, the King just laughed and nodded, one hand on his shoulder.

Techno didn’t want to think about how tempted he was to pull the gold rings right off his fingers.

“Done!”

Tommy grinned as he half ran, half jogged out of the changing room, spreading his arms wide, dramatically, and giving a big spin.

The changes to the uniform were minuscule, clearly only done to show wealth to any visitors over the fact that even the king’s chefs and butlers were clad in expensive materials.

“What D'ya think Techie?” With almost a rhythm to the words, Tommy walked towards Techno and stretched his arms out, bringing attention to the golden detailing at the bottom of his sleeves, as well as the thick pads that capped off his shoulders. The uniform really did look ridiculous.

“You’re a Piglin! I bet you love this stuff!”

“Tommy..” The king spoke in a warning tone, Techno didn’t quite understand why he was sticking up for him when stuff like this was so common. By now, he was used to being teased for being a Piglin, that’s just how life was for Mobs.

“What Phil?”

Pulling his hands back to his sides, Tommy rolled his eyes. Wilbur had also joined them, the golden detailing working much better against the black Butler uniform rather than the White Chef’s one.

“Phil he literally is a Piglin! I’m not even being mean!”

Techno couldn’t help but groan. Of course he thought he was in trouble for calling him a Piglin, of course people assumed that was a bad word. It was times like this when he was glad these are the kind of people he hurts with his work… but then again the person defending him was the person he was destined to kill.

Techno decided not to think about it.

What he did think about instead was how close he was going to have to get to the king to not be a suspect. Seriously, he had workers that were so casual with him that they would argue with him and call him by his first name, how long would he have to stay here?

“Toms.”

God the King had nicknames for them too? He was in for a lot of work.

“Look, it’s just not nice to assume he likes things and bring up what species he is as a justification.”

Tommy was clearly getting frustrated, judging by how Wilbur had said that they had been taken in as kids, he assumed the boy wasn’t really used to being told off for things.

“No! Just look! He’s fine with it! It was a joke man!”

And with that, Techno’s hoof was being grabbed and pulled up to touch the shoulder pad. What happened next was a blur, he remembered shoving Tommy away but he couldn't remember if he fell or just staggered back a bit. He noted that Wilbur had yelled something at him but he was more focused on getting the safe feeling that came with feeling the gold back. So, before he could think any better he had swiped the King’s crown straight off of his head and was cradling it close to his chest, like an animal protecting its food.  

“Techno?”

The king’s voice had been gentle and non-judgmental as he carefully placed a hand on his shoulder.

All he got as a response was a low grunt, his bared tusks far too prominent for him to even attempt talking right now.

“Techno, I want you to know that first of all you aren't in trouble, okay?”

With a little nod, Techno attempted to hand the crown back over, trying to salvage what he could of their opinions on him but just as he held it out towards the King his instincts took control again, complete fear and terror coursing through his veins as he imagined having to go back to having no gold to give him that safe feeling he was after.

“That’s alright, you can hold onto it for now, let’s just calm you down a bit bud”

Mind too foggy with anger and instincts, he didn’t even register it when Phi- the King moved him to sit on a bench with one arm around him lovingly. If he didn’t know any better he’d say this man was almost fatherly but he knew there must be a dark side to him if he had been offered so much to kill him.

“I’m very sorry about what happened, I don’t think Tommy really understood what he was doing, We’ll make sure that it won't happen ever again.”

Phil’s voice was kind, it understood that Techno wouldn’t want people teasing him about that kind of thing, it cared that Techno had been upset and wanted to fix that. The same kind voice softly instructed Techno on how to breathe in and out to slow down his pacing heartbeat, eventually helping him lower his tusks and loosen his grip on the crown.

“Ah jeez” Techno sighed, feigning a chuckle “This is humiliating, I’m sorry”

Despite the fact that he was calmer now and was able to think clearly and talk again, it was still very clear that he didn’t want to give up the crown as he twirled it in his hands, carefully tracing each gem as he did so.

Looking up, he could finally read the faces of the people that surrounded him, Phil looked like he was worried, Wilbur looked disappointed and Tommy looked as if he was about to crack under the guilt. This much attention made him feel almost sick, if he didn’t know better he would have leaned into Phil’s gentle touch by now, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little touch starved.

“Tommy.” Wilbur cleared his throat as he nudged his brother forwards, the younger of the two looking down at his boots in shame.

“Uh.. I didn’t think you were going to react like that, I’m really sorry. I know it doesn’t really mean much now but if I'm being honest I did think Piglins just..liked gold. I didn’t think you were going to...lose control or anything. I’m sorry, I do want to be friends with you but I’m scared I’ve biffed it” Techno couldn’t tell whether it was because Tommy was a human teenage boy or because he was just that remorseful but he could hear a slight waver in his voice as he spoke, as if he was holding back tears.

That was strange, nobody had cried over wanting his forgiveness before, or more like, nobody who he wasn’t about to kill had cried over wanting his forgiveness. It was nice to know he was cared for, even if it was misplaced.

“It’s.. fine. Just don’t do it again”

With that, Tommy nodded vigorously and walked swiftly back over to Wilbur, whispering something to him, leaving Techno with Phil- fuck, no, leaving Techno with the King and the crown.

“I meant it when I said you could hang on to it, just keep it safe and you can do whatever you like with it. Hold it, wear it, anything.”

Eyes wide, Techno looked over to Phil, looking for any trace of a joke. Normally, he’d be ridiculed for any aspects of his heritage showing, let alone having a full few minutes where he couldn’t control his actions, plus he really wasn’t used to being given gifts, normally he’d have to make due with the small chunks of gold he could make from his work but the idea of an entire crown was new to him, he was conflicted, naturally, he wasn’t sure if he needed to be on guard or if he was truly cared for.

“I’m serious. This was our fault, it really is embarrassing for us that we didn’t predict this and give you something you could hold on to. You poor thing, you were probably in a lot of pain trying to protect your image, right?”

Techno just sighed, rubbing his eyes. Because he was tired, he told himself, he wasn’t wiping away anything and he certainly didn’t care that the only person to ever treat him so nicely was the person he had to kill.

“Next time something is bothering you, don’t be afraid to speak up. We’re a family here and now that you’re a knight here you’re a part of that family”

Family.

Phil thought of them as a family.

Techno sighed and nodded, giving in and finally placing his head on Phil’s shoulder.

He supposed he’d just have to commit familicide.

[broadstbroskis]

more than friends | travis konecny

“Stop doing that.” You try and shove blindly at the hand that’s stroking gently down your side. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Travis chuckles, and slowly, you blink your eyes open to see him lying next to you, already dressed in his suit and ready for a team travel day. “I’m trying to say goodbye to you!”

“It’s too early.” You mumble pathetically. His bed is comfy and warm and you really don’t want to leave it yet, but you know you don’t really have a right to stay in it when he leaves- after all, you guys aren’t together, even if sometimes when you start to examine this friends-with-benefits-thing you’ve got going you might think you want more.

You try to shut those thoughts down quickly.

Travis laughs again. “It’s almost 11am!” Which he’s right, really isn’t that early...except for how late the two of you were up last night. 

“Ugh, already?”

Another laugh and then he’s kissing your forehead. “I know. Lock up when you leave okay? I left you a key on the counter.”

“Mm, kay.” You’re already rolling back into the warm pillow, accepting the soft kiss he presses into your forehead and half asleep when he says bye one last time.

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

A few days later, you’re walking to lunch with your best friend, Kelsey, when your phone rings. Choosing to ignore the look your friend is currently shooting you, you slide to answer the call and can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Hey!”

“Hey-Patty, stop it!” For a second, Travis sounds far away from the phone, but then he’s back. “How are you?”

“I’m good!” You laugh, amused at their antics. “What’s going on there?”

“Just Patty being a dick.” Travis’ voice lifts at the end, like he wants to make sure his best friend can hear him.

“I standby my statement!” You can hear Nolan Patrick call back, so he (unsurprisingly) must not be far. “You just can’t handle the truth!”

“Finish setting up the xbox!” Travis calls back.

“Then stop fucking talking to me!”

You giggle at the two of them and then again as Travis mutters a few choice names at his best friend, before turning back to you. “What are you up to today?”

“Kels and I are doing some holiday stuff. Shopping. Lunch.” You shrug. “Maybe find some Christmas-y stuff to do if we have time.”

“Nice. Where’s lunch at?”

“I’m taking her to that burger place we tried last week.” Truly the best burger you’d ever had. The two of you were still raving about it days afterwards, dying for the chance to go back.

Travis gasps dramatically. “You’re going back without me?”

“We won’t have time to go together until like, January!” You protest, kind of laughing. “Between your schedule and mine!”

“Fine!” He sighs dramatically. “Put it on the calendar then; we’re going back in first thing in January!”

“Deal.” You laugh. “And I’ll eat two burgers for you today!”

“You think you’ll be able to get a second burger down?” You can practically hear his eyebrows raise; the disbelief is so clear.

“Well probably not,” You admit. The burgers are huge. “But it’s the thought that counts, right?’

Travis laughs. “Exactly.” After a moment’s pause, he continues. “Well, I’ll let you go. Have fun with Kels today. We’ll talk after the game tonight.”

“Sounds good,” You smile. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

“That was for Nols.” You tease. “Good luck finding some peace and quiet.” You can hear Nolan’s laughter in the back just barely over Travis’ loud protest. “But for the game too, I guess.” And then you two make your goodbyes.

“Wow,” Kelsey remarks, the instant the call ends.

“What?” You say, looking over at her.

“For a guy you’re “not dating”,” She puts actual air quotes around the words you’ve thrown out about Travis many times now, to show the skepticism she’s expressed just as often about your relationship. “That call sure felt pretty relationship-y.”

“We’re just friends!” You insist.

“Who go out to dinner together?” 

“They have great burgers, you’ll see!”

“Who make plans to go out together?”

“Because we’re both super busy-”

“That what- you won’t be able to see each other?” She arches a brow at you. “You’ll see him in bed when he gets home.”

You blush. “That’s-”

Kelsey actually stops walking to stare at you. “He’s going to call you tonight after his game to talk to you before bed. You know who calls at the end of their work day while they’re away on a business trip? Boyfriends!”

“I don’t think he wants that.” You shrug. “We’re good like this. Friends is good.”

Kelsey groans. “You guys are way more than friends. You’re like already three years into a relationship.”

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

One morning shortly after that incident with Kelsey that you’re refusing to think about, you’re woken up to the smell of fresh coffee. Travis is standing with two full mugs, but standing nonetheless, and even worse, he’s already dressed. “Do you have something against sleeping in on days off?”

He hands you one of the mugs and you inhale the scent before taking a sip. “Let’s go Christmas shopping.”

You look down at the mug in your hand. “So this is a bribe?”

Travis nods. “And there’s more where that came from!” More coffee is very enticing but it’s his next statement that gets you. “We’ll go for breakfast first, too?”

“Done!” You throw the blankets down and stand, mentally assessing the current state of your clean clothes at his place. “Let me go steal a flannel and brush my teeth and I’ll be ready to go.”

And so it’s only two hours later that the two of your are walking through Philly, searching for gifts for his parents. “Well, what do you think they’ll like?”

Travis shrugs. “Dunno.”

You shake your head. “Such a man.”

He stops walking. “That felt like it was supposed to hurt, YN and I’m not sure I like it.”

You stop with him and laugh. “And what if it was? You shouldn’t have left your shopping for two days before Christmas!”

He reaches for your hand, tangling your fingers and tucking both your hands in his pocket for warmth, forcing the two of you to stay close while you walk. “Lucky I’ve got someone to help me find something then, yeah?”

“Yeah yeah,” You laugh again. “Let’s just go in a few places. See if something hits us.”

He kisses your cheek mid-stride. “Thank you.”

A few stores later and you’ve managed to make some good strides finding gifts. Most of his family’s been covered and all that’s left is his mom. You two have already been to four different stores- a clothes store, two home decorating stores, and a cute little tea shop- and he still hasn’t found anything he liked. The next stop had been a jewelry store, and once Travis had made faces at five of your suggestions, you’d moved away from his and the sales woman’s discussion about bracelets to browse on your own.

“This one would look great on you.” Another sales woman approaches the case you’re standing in front of.

“Hmm?” To be honest, you were kind of focused on the sapphire necklace further down the case, but you politely turn your attention to her at her words.

“This one.” She pulls a diamond ring out of the case and holds it out to you. “I think it’d be well suited to you.”

“Um-” You’re in actual shock, can’t bring yourself to say anything. Does she...she actually thinks…

“Go ahead and try it on.” She winks at you. “We’ll see if he catches the hint.”

“Heh.” You say awkwardly, unsure exactly what your face is doing. It doesn’t feel like it’s doing something great, that’s for sure. There’s no fricking way Travis didn’t hear this, not with how this lady is practically shouting it across the store.

Is she even shouting? Or is that just your heartbeat pounding in your ears, making everything seem so much louder?

Either way, it seems like time moves in slow motion as she reaches across the counter for your left hand and slips the ring onto your finger at the exact same moment that Travis slips up next to you with a new bag in hand. “YN, are you read-”

If time had slowed when the sales lady was slipping the ring on you, it stops altogether in the moment after, when Travis realizes exactly what’s on your finger and your eyes meet. His eyes are wide, darkening by the second, but then he locks down all the emotion as he moves his gaze down to the ring and you’re stuck. There’s too much and too little air, it’s too hot and too cold, you’re frozen in place and dying to run. 

“It’s beautiful!” The sales woman gushes, as if she didn’t just cause this huge panic between both of you. “That is a perfect ring for you, don’t you think?”

You rip your gaze over to her in even more of a panic, so you know she’s looking at Travis when she says that, but he’s still looking at the ring when he responds. “Yeah, it is.”

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

“So.” Kelsey bounces on the opposite end of the couch. “Are we going to talk about how you’ve been wallowing on the couch in misery since you came back home from Christmas?”

“No.” You grumble.

“Ok.” She says, patting the ankle closest to her. “Let me rephrase. Let’s talk about how you’ve been wallowing on the couch in misery since you came back home from Christmas.”

If you wanted to get technical, it was before you came back from Christmas- you’ve been pretty miserable since you and Travis parted after the jewelry store incident occurred two days before Christmas. You’d said a very awkward goodbye after leaving the store and neither of you had made contact since.

No phone calls. No texts. No snapchats. Nothing.

You’d made a concerted effort to be happy over Christmas while back with your family but the second you’d come home to Philly again, the facade had dropped. That it had taken her this long before confronting you about this seemed like a holiday miracle in and of itself.

“I guess.” You shrug. “I guess I didn’t think I was this attached.”

Kelsey stares at you flatly. “How could you think that?”

“‘I don’t know! I mean, I knew I liked him. I just didn’t think it’d hurt this much to know he didn’t like me!”

Kelsey has never looked so unimpressed with you. “You’re a dumbass.”

“Hey!” You protest. “I am upset! You should be supporting me.”

She ignores you. “You’re both dumbasses. I’ll support you when you two get your shit together and smarten up.”

You frown. “Can you at least support me by running out and getting wine? We’re out.”

“Fine, but this ends tonight.” She stands, grabbing her jacket off the chair. “Tomorrow you get dressed like a real human and we’re going out in public.”

You make a face but can tell by her tone that she’s serious. But it’s either this or no wine. “Deal.”

She’s only gone a minute or two when there’s a knock at the door again and you huff, throwing your blankets down to go throw the door open for her. “What’d you forget?”

“Uhh.” Travis stands there hesitantly, still holding his fist up, like he’s ready to knock again.

“You’re not Kelsey.” Is the only thing you can think so say.

“Uh no.” He shakes his head. “No, I’m not.” He pauses. “Can, uh, can I come in?” He rubs the back of his head hesitantly.

It’s awkward when you move aside to let him in. He’s so familiar in the space, knowing exactly where to hang his coat and put his keys, but the silence between you two is suffocating. Normally you two are laughing, joking around, even just making light conversation about how your days were if nothing else. But there’s rarely silence and certainly nothing so uncomfortable as this, and suddenly you can’t take it.

“So about-” You start, just as he says. “I wanted-”

It works to cut the tension, at least a bit, as you both laugh a little. “You want first?” He offers and you think for a second, before nodding.

“So that was weird. The other day.” Gentle. Easy. Not a bad place to start, right?

Travis nods slowly. “It was.” And there it is. You brace yourself for what’s next- that you guys are great friends and that it’s time to back off things for a while. “But I think what was weirder was that it didn’t actually seem that weird?” Your jaw drops and Travis breaks into a grin. “Alright good.”

“What?”

He takes a step closer to you. “I’ve been thinking for the last week about how not weird it was to see an engagement ring on you and panicking about how I wasn’t panicking about it until I realized every milestone we’ve hit before that. You have a key to my place. My parents asked about you when they called on Christmas this year. You’re my go to person for everything and I really hope that I’m yours.” For the first time, he looks a little nervous, but he steamrolls on anyway. “And I love you and I want to be with you, and only you, and even though I haven’t actually been with anyone other than you since last year, I figure we should make this official, and someday I’m going to make it really official and put that ring back on your finger, but-”

You cut him off before he can go anymore. “I love you.”

It’s incredible to see his face light up, the smile growing and lighting up the entire thing. “I love you.” He repeats and before you get the chance to say it again, he’s entirely in your space, kissing you.

[sheerbeautyreigns]

DESIRE

Part 49

Paul returned about 30 minutes later to find Joe a wreck. He was gleaming with sweat, his hair wet and a mess of his own cum in front of him. He looked desperate as Paul came towards him. “Messy boy, look at this.”

“Please…no more.” Joe begged, his eyes pleading for mercy as his body trembled. Paul felt sorry for him and switched the machine off. The room fell silent, apart from Joe’s panting. His body slumped as much as his restraints would allow. “Jesus baby, the sybian really did a number on you this time.” Paul observed, starting to undo the shackles around his ankles. His legs hung limply on either side of the bench. Next he undid his arms and then next it was the collar. Joe leaned onto Paul’s front as he tried to regain his composure. “Let’s get you off this thing.” For the first time that he could remember, Paul lifted Joe over his shoulder and set him on the bed. He fell back onto the pillow, still breathing heavily. He looked weak. Paul retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge and uncapped it.

“Here, drink this.” He instructed, lifting his head. Joe weakly swallowed a few mouthfuls. “You OK?”

Joe nodded slowly. “It was too much. I thought I was going to pass out at one point.”

“Like one of your blackouts?” He asked, leading Joe to nod. “I’ll have to bear that in mind next time. You managed to get that looked into yet?”

“No Sir. To be honest, It’s kinda embarrassing trying to explain it to someone.” Joe explained.

“I worry about you. Stay here and I’ll run you a nice bath. Keep drinking the water.” Paul kissed him on the forehead and left the room. Joe lay there for the next five minutes or so, still feeling his insides tremble. He was starting to get some feeling back in his anus. Paul returned a few moments later. “C’mon baby.” He held onto Joe as he escorted him into the ensuite, easing him into the bath. “There, gently.”

Joe lay back, resting his head on the rim. “Want me to leave you to it?” Paul checked. “Please stay.” Joe reached for his hand. “Of course babe.” Paul eventually got in and sat behind him, massaging his back, cleaning him and finished up by washing his hair. “Thank you Sir. You’re always so good to me.” Joe said turning to face him. “Even when I’m beating the crap outta you and wearing you out to the point you can barely stand?” Paul joked.

“There’s always a reason for it and regardless of how I am in that moment, I always feel better for it. Even though I don’t always look it.” Paul stroked his cheek tenderly. “I’m just glad you’re willing to put up with me. I don’t know what I’d be doing without you right now. Work’s so stressful and sometimes I just feel like I’m losing my mind.” Paul confessed. “I know. I see how it gets to you sometimes…” Joe started. “You’ve been on the receiving end of my moods lately and I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok-” Paul cut Joe off “It’s not though. I want you to speak up if you’re not happy…about anything. Your been so good for me. I want you to feel fulfilled. Understand?”

“Yes Sir, I understand. Why now? If you don’t mind my asking?” Joe stroked Paul’s thigh as he said this, trying to keep him soft. “I feel, like sometimes I ask things of you that you might not necessarily be happy with but you’re afraid to say no. Do you agree?”

“I dunno…I guess. I mean, I was nervous about the session in New York. So nervous, I thought I was going to be sick but it wasn’t that bad.” Paul interrupted him “You never told me what happened there…”

Joe blushed “ He’s similar to you in the dominant role. When I kinda realised it, I felt more at ease. It was when he tried to kiss me that when I felt weird. I felt like I was betraying you.”

“You were right to feel that. I never gave him permission to do it. Kissing is off the table with anyone.” Joe had remembered this was the case with Drew. “He just likes to try his luck.”

“I’m sorry Sir.” Joe apologised. “It wasn’t your fault baby. He had you restrained so it’s not like you could fight it.”

“What about this gathering in LA? Have you spoken with your friend who’s holding it?”

“Not yet but I was planning on calling her today. I just want to make sure you’re definitely OK with it. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“As long as you’re there, I’m fine.” Paul leaned in and kissed him. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take good care of you.”

That afternoon, they chilled for a little while by the pool. Since his ass was still feeling pretty fragile from the flogging the day before, Joe didn’t go into the pool. He was happy just to lay in the sun lounger and work on his tan. Paul, meanwhile had a couple of meetings for NXT to take care of.

An hour or so had passed and Paul found himself back out by the pool with Joe. “How was your meeting?”

“Good. Just trying to get everything in order for the next Takeover. It’ll be worth it though.”

“Have you heard anything about my match at Clash of Champions yet?” Joe asked gulping a mouthful of water. “Not yet but I should have the Raw draft through in the next day or so. Sometimes, it’s not even worth looking at them since Vince changes then at the last minute most of the time.”

Joe pursed his lips in agreement. He decided to change the subject since he didn’t want to get him worked up. “I managed to get a flight for 11am tomorrow.”

“Good baby, I’m glad you stayed. I really can’t wait to sign off on this house in Tampa. I can make that more of a base for us. I should hear more on Monday or Tuesday. I can build a new dungeon, you can have your own room-”

Joe looked over at him, sitting forward. “My own room?”

“Just in case we have a disagreement. Knowing us, we’ll make up in a few hours.” Paul joked. “I didn’t mean that. I just meant in general, you’re giving me a room there?”

Paul looked at him, puzzled. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I’m already based in Tampa-” he started. Paul sat up. “Yeah but I want you to stay with me when I’m there, which will be a lot.” He noticed a small smile creep onto Joe’s face. “I want this to be our place babe.”

“Are you sure?” Joe checked. “Of course I’m sure.”

“I just…I just don’t want you to get tired of me, is all.” Paul gave a questioning look. “What’s brought this on?”

“Nothing, I just…wasn’t expecting it.” He blushed. “Babe, I want this. For us. I want you to help me to decorate it. I want somewhere nice for us to come back to. It’s so big here. I don’t necessarily need something this size.” He mused. “What are you thinking?” Joe asked. “Well, I need a base here for head office but…I dunno. Let’s just take one thing at a time.” Paul rose to his feet. “I just need to make a phone call.”

“Nadja hey. It’s been a while.” Paul started, closing the door of his office behind himself discreetly. “Hey stranger.” Came her husky German accent. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you.” Paul padded around the room in his bare feet. “It’s been a while hasn’t it.” He smiled fondly. “Michael told me I’d probably hear from you soon.” Paul stopped to look out the window. His eyes fixed on Joe as he lay relaxing on the deck chair. “I’m sure he did.”

“You two. The tension, after all this time.” She laughed gently. “You can’t change him unfortunately. He’ll always be an asshole. An asshole I respect none the less.” Paul sighed as he lowered to his computer chair. “So, you’re coming to my gathering on the 17th yes?”

“I was thinking about it-” He started, leaning back on the chair, palming the back of his head. “What do you mean, thinking about it? You’ve never missed one in a long time. Besides, you wanna see my new pad. It’s to die for.”

“How many people are you planning on having over?” Paul asked. “Well, I don’t want it to get too messy so I’m thinking around 30. That would include you and your new pet.” She remarked.

“Do I sense a bit of jealousy?” Paul sat forward. “How can you tell?” She gave in. “From what Michael has told me, he seems quite the specimen. I’m curious.”

“I bet you are.” His blood started to boil at the thought of Michael telling her about Joe. He peered out the window again, distracted as Joe stood, pacing around the pool, on his phone, wearing only his cut offs. He always found time to marvel at his body “So I can count on you both to be there?”

“We’ll be there. I can’t wait for you to meet him. He’s perfect.” Paul said calmly. “I’m glad. You need someone to keep up with you.”

“Oh, that he does. How’ve you been anyway?” Paul asked starting to pace around the room again. “You know me. Always busy. I just bought this place six months ago and putting my own mark on it. I think you’ll like it.”

“I’ll look forward to it.” After they said their goodbyes, Paul opened his laptop and answered a few emails. It was about 4pm when there was a light knock on the door.

“Yeah?” Paul looked up from the screen as Joe cautiously opened the door. “You OK?” The younger man checked holding on to the door. “Sorry baby, I got carried away with work again.” He apologised with a small smile before rubbing his eyes. “It’s OK. I know you’re busy. I just wanted to see if you need anything.” Paul closed down the screen and stood, stretching. Joe held the door open as he approached. “How could I neglect this face?” Paul cupped his face and planted a kiss on his lips. Joe reciprocated as they stood in the frame. Paul took his hand and lead him into the living room. With a devilish smile, he forced him down on his knees in front of the sofa while he took a seat in front of him. Joe didn’t need to be told. He leaned forward between Paul’s legs and undid his zipper. He lowered his cut offs and pulled out his hard dick. “Good, baby.” He commented as Joe took the head in his mouth, massaging the undershaft with his tongue. Paul’s hands roamed his hair which was in a low loose bun, which he eventually took down, allowing it to tumble down on either side of his face. “So sexy with your hair down like that while you’re sucking my dick.” He could see the smile in Joe eyes as they trailed up to his. “Aww baby.” He said, fisting a handful of hair as he began to fuck his mouth. Trails of drool escaped Joe mouth as he took Paul’s cock. Moans and groans escaped his throat as Paul hit the back. “That’s it, take it.” He urged. “Aww I’m gonna come so hard on that pretty mouth of yours.” That he did, moments later, filling the back of Joe throat with his cum. He watched as Joe devoured it eagerly. “Good boy.

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 22

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary: Based on "Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki." by @thefandomimagine​

Despite your words, you were out before Loki even noticed. 

He welcomed the silence, but didn't deem it suspicious until he reached for the snacks in your lap only to find you sleeping. You hugged the bowl tight, but he plucked it out of your hands anyway.

At least you didn't snore. His patience was worn so thin he'd strangle you with a pillow if you did. 

The silence was… strange.

Loki did not expect to get rid of you so quickly, even if only for a few hours. You must've been more exhausted than you let show on the outside - something Loki was forced to do on a daily basis too. He couldn't blame you. It was a hell of a day. 

Loki sighed, settling further into the cushions. The warmth and a full stomach did wonders to his sore and stiff body. He could feel his own eyes closing, despite his efforts to stay awake. Sure, sneaking out right now would be a very reckless idea even by his standards, but the chance was one in a million. During the day you had your eyes constantly on him, so it was impossible to… 

Well, at least you kept the Avengers off of him. You seemed to have a lot of experience in keeping them in check, which came in really handy in Loki's case. He wasn't even using you as a buffer between him and the Avengers, because you were doing that on your own. Which was… nice, actually? 

A deep frown settled between his brows. He looked at you. Despite what you had told him in the kitchen earlier, it all seemed too good to be true. You had to have some ulterior motive in all of this. No one could be that kind just because. 

Or could they? 

Loki knew he had no way of finding out at the moment unless you spilled some deep, dark secrets in your sleep. With your face buried halfway into the pillow, and an elbow jabbing into Loki's bruised ribs again, you didn't seem the type. 

The dim light from the TV cast deep shadows across the room. Loki looked down at the bracelet cuffing his wrist, the screws shining on the metal. Even in his wildest dreams and worst nightmares he never would have anticipated the tangled string of events that led him to where he currently found himself. It wasn't… bad. There could have been worse punishments for what he brought upon Earth, voluntarily or not. Odin had always had a nose for what would hurt him most. He would have come up with something less pleasant. 

No matter what your motives actually were, Loki had to admit the days he spent with you were fun. Not easy, of course, but just enough to make him feel like a person again. Not a convict thrown from one interrogation to another just to repeat the same words over and over again until they lost all meaning. All  in front of people who had already made up their minds on him. 

It was refreshing, Loki had to admit. He closed his eyes. The snow drifted through the night on the cold winds meandering above the sleeping city. 

A small part of him could feel it on some barely perceptible level of consciousness, as if the ice called upon his blood, making it restless. It could have been a part of his heritage, but he had no way of knowing for sure. His mind drifting away, Loki deemed it meaningless. 

With your breath the only sound in the room, Loki fell asleep as well, the exhaustion finally winning. 

It was a dreamless sleep, as far as he later remembered, filled with blurry images shifting into one another without logic or purpose. The emotions and intent behind them, if there were any to begin with, dimmed as Loki opened his eyes a few hours later, disturbed by the light coming through the window. He cursed the curtains he hadn't thought of closing the evening before. 

It took him but a few moments to remember where he was. He wished it would take longer, leaving him in the blessed oblivion or with hope that all that had happened in the past days was but a bad, twisted dream. 

The bracelet holding firm onto his wrist proved otherwise. All the hope had vanished. 

Loki blinked. The sun hitting his eyes with vicious accuracy purged any warm remains of sleep. 

Loki took in the empty boxes and wrappings scattered along the floor and sheets. Some part of him couldn't believe he let himself sleep in the mess. He turned his head to the right—to the very source of his misfortune. 

You must've twisted and turned quite a lot through the night, to get the blanket to cover you almost completely. Only a few inches of your face peeked out from underneath it. Sadly, it looked like you were still breathing. 

Loki didn't fail to notice your side of the bed was peacefully abandoned, while you took his arm into possession. You might as well have already claimed it, with the low circulation Loki was painfully aware of. He already felt the stiffness. 

Muttering a curse Friga would pinch his ear for, Loki began to slowly extricate it from your embrace. The gentleness of his movement was not for your sake, obviously, but rather to spare him at least a few more minutes before you woke up to torment his existence. 

And, obviously, the only reason he tugged you back in was not to alarm your sleepy mind with the sudden cold. And it's not like he stared at your sleeping form for a while, taking it in. He was just being mindful of his surroundings. Not terrible surroundings. 

Loki sneaked off the bed, and headed to the bathroom, wary of the mess covering the floor. 

The mirror showed him a god that had seen better days, especially when it came to his hair. Going to sleep without properly drying it wasn't his brightest idea, but in his defence, the past week was made out of bad decisions on his side.  So at least that newest one didn't stand out that much. 

Loki tugged at one of the strands that decided it wanted to stand sideways that day. 

He managed to find a brush. It didn’t help much.

With a deep sigh, Loki sat on the edge of the closed toilet, reaching for his suit he left under the sink yesterday. It was still filthy and stunk more than he remembered. It was going to be a lovely day. 

He was focused on cleaning it in the sink when he heard a few knocks on the door. His hands stilled for a moment, but nothing followed. 

He probably should have answered it, but Loki was aware that he had no friends or sympathizers in the Tower, and he was not in the mood to deal with any of the Avengers. Besides, he still hadn't figured out how to open it in the first place. 

Some time passed before he heard you shuffle in the room. It took you some more to pay him a visit. 

With half-lidded eyes, you frowned at the brownish water in the sink. 

"Is it at least coming off?" you asked with a yawn. 

"Some of it." 

"I think I once had a soap for stains," you muttered before diving into one of the crowded shelves. 

You perched on the other side of the sink, and treated the leathers with the soap. Loki hesitantly allowed you to clean some of it. It was hard to say if the blood and filth was coming off just yet, but at least it smelled nice. 

"Someone knocked," Loki broke the silence when he finally couldn't endure the awkwardness of watching you wash his suit. 

"Oh? Did you answer?" 

"No." 

"Can't blame you. People around here can be assholes in the morning." 

"It's 11am."

"Like I said, morning." 

With a deep frown, you sized up the progress. It wasn't much, but it seemed to be slowly working. You looked at Loki. 

"I don't think we can do much more about it right now. I'd suggest leaving it in hot water for a while, to soak the dirt and make it come off easier." 

Loki wasn't happy about it, but he had to admit you were right. He appreciated the help, even if he wouldn't say it out loud. 

You left to check on the door, hoping that whoever wanted to pay you a visit so early left a note. 

Loki sighed deeply. He had little experience with cleaning his leathers, but it never occurred to him it could take so much time. It had never occurred to him that you were capable of holding a civil conversation either, but that was beside the point. 

"My dear god, it looks like someone left you a gift!" you called to him from the other room. 

"You're not even half as funny as you think," Loki said, approaching with curiosity. What could the gift be? A dead cat? Death threats? 

You held a bag of clothes to him. Clothes he did recognize. 

With a noise he wouldn't ever admit to emitting, Loki delved into the bag and then turned on his heels straight back to the bathroom.

Alone again, you stood by the door. If the asgardian fashion was capable of eliciting such emotions from Loki, it was definitely something worthy of checking out one day. 

[minniewoos]

The Morning After, Seo Changbin

Genre: fuckboy!changbin, Slice of life

Pairing: changbin x reader

Summary: You finally want a real relationship. But Changbin sends you another booty call.

The morning was calm.

Too calm.

It was too calm for the hectic weekend you experienced. You half expected something to blow up, catch on fire, for something to go wrong. Because after all, that was your whole weekend so far. And everyone knew Mondays never started out perfect.

But as you laid there, sheets pulled up to your nose and curled up warmly, the morning was perfect. Was it even morning? You stretched your neck to peer at the alarm clock on the bed stand.

11am.

Well, it was a little late to be morning but too early to be late. You figured it would have to do. So you sat up and stretched your arms up before immediately curling back in on yourself. It was freezing and you were stark naked. A chill ran down your spine before you looked around, confused.

And a little stunned as you looked at Seo Changbin lying next to you.

And that's when you felt like a fool. Of course.

Of course you let him in like an idiot. Of course you were like putty in his hands. Of course you let yourself be another one of Seo Changbin's booty calls. Again.

The past few days have just been so awful that once his name popped up on your phone screen, you said fuck it, and treated it as a blessing in disguise. Because Changbin always made your nights enjoyable, he carried through and didn't disappoint. That is, until morning rolled around. When he usually left without a word before the sun even rose. And you fell for it every time, you said yes to him every time even though you told yourself that you wouldn't. It was a perfect cacophony of tragic events. Fired, rejected, lost, what else could go wrong for you? You really expected something to go up in flames, physically and hypothetically. 

But you were being hypocritical if you were honest. On your off days, you would hit Changbin up just like he does to you, and the same old thing would transpire. You couldn't even call the two of you friends with benefits, a more accurate term would just be fuck buddies. Never hung out, never really talked, never understood one another. And you never truly tried to get to know him more than outside the bedroom. So can you really be upset over being a simple booty call? That's what he was to you, right?

And it really made you feel like a fool. Because you were trying to stop just messing around. Among all the hookups and one night stands, you desired a real relationship. Something tangible and sincere and adoring. These shallow relationships were getting you nowhere. You sighed wearily before putting your head in your hands, letting the duvet fall off your shoulders into your lap.

"Damn, is waking up next to me that painful?" Changbin groaned from beside you, just barely woken up himself to see you looking like you're in mourning. There was a slight shuffling before he sat up as well. Bedhead stuck up, and muscles tensed as he stretched his arms out in front of him. His eyes were groggy and voice scratchy.

"Well, this is a surprise, you usually leave skip out on a 'good morning' altogether." You mumble, rubbing your eyes and giving him a side glance.

"Don't act like you don't do the same thing."

"Got me there." Suffocatingly awkward, that was the atmosphere. And it made you internally cringe and wish Changbin just left like he usually did. The two of you really need to practice the pillow talk more often, this weird silence just confirmed it. It was strangely intimate and distant all together. You didn't like it.

Deciding to try to cut the atmosphere away, you stood up and began to get dressed and ready for the day ahead of you. And hopefully, you could shake the uncomfortable feeling from your bones. In the meantime, Changbin will probably head out.

So while you got dressed, Changbin did as well. The two of you moved to the kitchen as you prepared your breakfast, and Changbin just, stayed. You were wrong, he wasn't going to leave right away. It was a surprise, maybe even a pleasant surprise. You weren't sure yet. Mostly because you didn't want to get your hopes up, you didn't want to be disappointed.

Soon after, somehow, you ended up giving him breakfast. Even if it was just cereal and fruit, he ate it gratefully. And the awkward silence slowly turned strangely comfortable. Or at the very least it was bearable. Much more so than at first. And the time together like this was kinda cute, pleasant and most of all, unexpected. But you weren't sure why he was so quiet,

"So…" You began, chewing on a strawberry. Genuine curiosity behind your question, with eyes peaked up at him from behind your morning hair. "Did you sleep in or something? What made you stay today? And you're weirdly quiet, it's not like you, buddy."

Changbin sat back as he took his sweet time to chew and swallow his own spoonful of cereal. The gears in his head were creaking, morning grogginess rusted his thoughts while he tried to get them going. But after a few thoughtful seconds, even if it seemed longer to you, he looked to the side. Somewhat bashful?

"I've been…" he chose his words carefully, "I felt like I could use the company. Even just for a little bit."

You perked up at the small confession, once again, not expecting such a raw truth. But you nodded nonetheless and smiled at him before clearing your throat dutifully, "Well, I'll be happy to provide that for you, Mr. Seo Changbin. Welcome to my home, you've been here before, but I don't think you really ever hung out around here right? Want anything?"

He chuckled at your strange greeting and nodded, confused as you stood up. "Yea, but what are you doing?"

"Being hospitable." You said simply, picking your empty cereal bowl up and moving to stick it in the sink. "Otherwise, I'd be rude, right?"

Changbin stretched his legs out in his seat, arms crossed as he leaned back. He smirked at you, an eyebrow perked up, "I think we're well past formalities, aren't we? I mean, there's really no need to be formal with me after what you said last night."

You choked on air at his words, your cheeks quickly burned up, shyly avoiding his piercing gaze. You brought your hand up to cover the redness in your cheeks, but it didn't really help much. "Do we have to bring that up now? That's not…"

"What? You're shy now?" Changbin stood up, cocky smile stretched wider as he stalked towards you. Enjoying how flustered you suddenly became. "This is new; you're usually so forward."

Changbin teased as he trapped you between the counter and his broad chest, his arms firm on either side of you. As you looked down to hide your blush, you caught the flex of his muscles while he leaned forward. He was doing things to your heart that you were sure would give you a heart attack. Finally gaining enough gall to look at him and his stupid, attractive, and smug smile, you could form words. "Well, you've only ever seen one side of me."

Slowly putting yourself back together, you set both hands on his chest and pushed him off of you. Then stepped up close to him, approaching him the same way he did to you, noses almost touching. He chuckled at your act, "Then how about I see more than just that side huh?"

You weren't sure what he meant by that, but he wrapped his arm around your waist and nuzzled close to your ear. He clarified, "Let's go on a date."

Seo Changbin just kept on surprising you today, he's never entertained the idea of going on a date before. You didn't even think he wanted a serious relationship. But you quickly decided that maybe, just maybe, Changbin wanted something real as well. Not only the fleeting nights of intimacy. And perhaps he's been wanting that, planning it even. Maybe that is why he stayed this morning. Despite the awkward start, he was willing to give it a try. And you were as well.

Bringing your hand up to cup his face, you pressed a kiss to his jaw. A smile played on your lips, almost teasingly. "I'd like that, Changbin."

[selfindulgentpoorlywritten]

It’s a Wonderful Life (Sidney Crosby Imagine)

Enjoy this very belated Christmas fluff for those like me who don’t have anywhere to go for the holidays :)

Rating: T

Pairing: Sidney Crosby/Reader

Words: 2969

Warnings: alcohol/drinking

Requested: yes/no

Summary: Sid invites you home with him for Christmas break. You’re a little worried what his family is going to think, until you’re not

You’re not entirely sure that you’re comfortable with this, but you’d made the decision and now you’re stuck with it. Not really stuck, because Sid would fly you back to Pittsburgh the second you asked, but just. You can’t exactly back out now, after flying to Nova Scotia and driving almost the entire way to Sid’s parents’ house. Not that you would! It’s just that you’re staying at Sid’s place for a few days and spending Christmas with his family and while you’ve met them before, you don’t know them all that well and Trina is pretty perceptive and you’re hoping she doesn’t bring up the whole “being in love with Sid” thing again and and and you’re maybe freaking out a little bit.

Your own family situation is… complicated, which is why Sid had invited you home with him for the holiday. Allegedly because his family wanted to see you, but more likely because the thought of you sitting at home alone on Christmas was kind of pathetic. You’re grateful, because you’d much rather spend the day with Sid than drinking a bottle of wine by yourself on your couch watching Christmas movies. You’d much rather spend any day with Sid than, well, pretty much anything else.

There’s a pressure on your knee and it makes you startle, forced out of your own head. It’s Sid’s hand, of course, because what else is gonna suddenly going to settle on your previously bouncing leg in a closed car on the highway. You hadn’t even realized you were jiggling your leg, too caught up in anxiety to notice much else, so you’re grateful Sid noticed and stopped you. He shoots you a quick smile when you look over, before returning his eyes to the road, ever the responsible driver.

“You doing alright?” he asks, and you’re not quite sure how to answer. Obviously you’re not going to spill your guts about all your worries, but lying and saying you’re fine would feel disingenuous. It’s just. This is kind of a big deal, right? Like if it were a team party, that would be one thing, but he’s taking you home to spend a major holiday with his entire family. It’s just a friend thing, obviously, but still…

“I’ll be okay,” you settle on, “Just a little nervous.” He nods sympathetically, before giving a wry smile.

“My family can be a bit much, eh?” he says, except that’s not really quite it, because it’s the whole situation that’s a bit much, not just his family-- who are actually quite lovely-- and what really makes you nervous is the aforementioned being-in-love-with-him thing, but you can’t tell him that--

“Do you want to stay at mine instead?” he asks, “I’ll have to go to the party for a couple hours, but I could come home early and we could spend time together there instead.” Because he’s a fucking saint like that.

“No!” you reply entirely too loudly, before clearing your throat and continuing “No, you don’t have to do that.” The fact that he would even offer to do that for you makes your chest tight. “Cared for” is still not a feeling you’re used to. Sid seems intent on giving you plenty of practice with it, though. His hand tightens against your leg momentarily, as though he can tell you want to start bouncing it again. Damn perceptive bastard. He seems to be waiting for you to say something, but you’re not sure how to explain any of this without outing yourself. Even with the noise of the road and the steady hum of the car, the silence is deafening. He lets it stretch too long to be remotely comfortable, used to awkward silences with the media in a way you’re not.

“What if people ask if we’re dating?” you finally blurt out, if only to kill the unbearable quiet. He doesn’t startle or look surprised at all, like you’d expected. Just squeezes your knee again.

“We’ll tell them the truth,” he says with a shrug, like it’s that simple. What is the truth? you think. Because you’re just friends, as far as you know, but “just friends” don’t invite each other to family Christmas. Or regularly sleep in the same bed (or on the same couch) when they don’t feel like going home at night. Or slow dance to love songs like the two of you had this wedding season. Or do most of the things the two of you do. Bachelor hockey players don’t FaceTime their friends before bed every night on roadies, or head home early when they’re out with the boys so that they can hang out with you, or try on the regular to convince you how amazing you are with long, heartfelt rants about your better aspects. But he does.

You’re rounding the bend toward the driveway of his parents’ house when he finally moves his hand in preparation of parking. Taylor’s car is already in the drive, and he blocks her in because despite everything, he’s still an older brother. You’re about to roll your eyes and rib him for it, when he turns as far toward you as he can in his seat. His hand is on yours now, warm and rough and comforting.

“You can still back out,” he says. Looking into his eyes, you know it’s true. You know you can always back out, can always leave if you want to. But as anxious as you are, as scared as you are, you don’t want to.

“Let’s get in there before they come out, huh?” you say with a smile.

-----

Trina and Troy’s house is just this side of opulent, tastefully decorated both for the holiday and in general. They greet you at the door, ushering you in with excitement in their voices and fondness in their eyes. Your anxiety is still there, but it feels farther away now. Between the distraction of Trina immediately trying to feed you and the warm feeling of home, tonight’s festivities feel a bit more manageable.

They’re throwing a Christmas Eve party tonight, which you and Sid will attend. Tomorrow, you’re going to spend the morning with Sid, before having an early dinner with Trina and Troy and Taylor (too many T’s). The next night, you’ll fly home so Sid can rest before his game against the Preds, but you’ll likely spend at least part of that day with his family as well. With the way your family is (and has been for a long time), it’s going to be a bit much. But what is family if not a bit much?

“Y/N, you’ve got to try my scones,” Trina insists, pulling you toward the kitchen as Troy begins trying to ply Sid with alcohol. You’re glad he hasn’t targeted you this time, because being drunk for the party would be embarrassing and probably only make everything worse. Tipsy you can deal with, but starting to drink at 11am for a 7pm party will get anyone a little unsteady.

“So,” Trina starts as you bite into what seems to be a berry scone, “How’s it going with Sid?” Damn. She lured you in with the promise of baked goods and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker. At least the scone is good- buttery and sweet. And chewing gives you an excuse to delay your answers.

“It’s good; we’ve been spending more time together this season,” you say, “These are really good, Trina. You’ve outdone yourself.” You’re hoping that she’ll be distracted enough by the flattery to switch topics, but you know it’s futile. Once she latches on to this topic, she keeps it.

“Thank you, dear,” she responds politely, “Has he asked you out yet?” You don’t spit your mouthful across the room, but it’s a close thing. Whatever happened to Canadians being unbearably circuitous? Trina just keeps a mildly devious smile on while you choke down the suddenly too-dry pastry.

“No,” you cough, “No, he hasn’t.” Hopefully she drops it at that. No luck.

“That boy,” she shakes her head, “I swear he’s a wreck with anything off the ice.” And what the hell does that mean? Does she expect him to ask you ask because of her own biases, or does she know something? Holy shit, does she know something? Because she’s his mom and he’s a momma’s boy above all else, and if anyone were to know something about him, it would be her. But if she knew anything, she’d be open with it, because Sid’s her son, yes, but you’re basically her daughter. But you’re only basically her daughter because Sid is her son and you’re his best friend so--

“Have you asked him out?” she asks, which kind of makes your brain short-circuit because, what.

“What?” you ask, without meaning to. You’re supposed to just, what? Ask Sid out? Ask out the greatest current hockey player in the fucking world? As what? You? Who the fuck does she think you are?

“The man doesn’t always have to make the first move, dear,” Trina elaborates, sliding another baking sheet into the oven, “You can ask him out just as well.” How the fuck are you supposed to ask him out? Hey Sid, I know we’ve been friends for years, and this jeopardizes everything we’ve built, but do you want to date? Bullshit. You love Trina, truly, you do, but goddamn. This is getting ridiculous.

“I heard Troy has a new bourbon he wants Sid and I to try,” you say, putting the other half of your scone on the island, “I’m gonna go try it, if that’s alright?” You know she won’t say no, and she knows she won’t say no, so hopefully she doesn’t take it too personally. She simply shoots you a look with that same wry smile Sid got from her and shoos you from the kitchen. You retreat to where Troy is making Sid try his new peanut butter whiskey, more than ready to try that bourbon he’d mentioned last month.

-----

The party is more classy than you’re used to with your upbringing. It’s nice, though, to know that it’s going to be a pleasant evening without anyone getting wasted and ruining everything, even if it means you have to wear pantyhose. Your dress is black and short, but not too short, with long sleeves and lace around the skirt. It bares a fair bit of cleavage, but not so much as to be inappropriate, and over all, you’re a big fan of this one. It almost makes you look like you fit in among the upper class crowd, despite being from the local thrift shop.

Sid looks dashing, as per usual, in black pants and a red button-up that’s open just enough to show the barest bit of his chest. The color complements the bit of a flush that’s overtaken his cheeks with the encouragement of alcohol, and it’s a little distracting when you’re trying to make polite small talk and remember his relatives’ names. You’re not quite sure what you’re drinking, because Troy made it for you and refused to tell, but it’s not helping either. There are just so many people, and you’re trying not to let it make you nervous, but the part of your brain that hasn’t adjusted to well-adjusted people is still waiting for something to go wrong, and anxiety is clawing at the gates of your psyche. You wish you were back at Sid’s, curled up on the couch with him watching shitty Christmas movies instead.

“How you holding up?” Sid asks when his aunt moves on to the next conversation. It’s the third time he’s checked on you in so many hours, always the gentleman. You’re tempted to ask him to let you go home, except the only way to overcome anxiety is to face it, so you just nod before greeting another aunt who’s approached.

Unlike you’d expected, not many people ask if you’re Sid’s girlfriend. It makes sense, because you’re not his type, like, at all, but it kind of stings. You could totally date Sid if you wanted. Who are they to think otherwise? You’re smart, and funny, and kind, and pretty great, overall. Sid would be lucky to have you.

“Sid, would you date me?” you ask an indeterminate amount of time later, once you’ve made your way through family and friends itching to talk to Sid, and a few more drinks made by Troy. Trina made one of them for you, which is probably why you want to sit on the couch and stare at the ceiling for a while. But you kind of need to know, because only like five people have asked if you’re dating and it’s like. What the fuck.

“What?” he asks, looking slightly panicked for reasons you can’t currently discern.

“Would you date me?” you repeat, continuing, “Cause like, no one is asking if we’re dating, and I could totally date you.” His eyebrows shoot up and he starts to smile, so you add “I’m a catch, dude”. That makes him outright laugh, but not in, like, a mean way.

“I think it’s time to get you home,” he says, which is not an answer to your question. You kind of want to cuddle up with him and watch a movie or take a nap or both, though, so you don’t argue. You can ask him again in the car.

Which you do. It takes a while to say good night to all of his family, and you’re feeling a little less flushed by time the two of you load into the car and take off. Definitely still not sober enough to not follow up on your question, however. He looks less panicked and more… wistful, or something, this time, which you take to be a good sign.

“Of course I would,” he finally agrees, resting a hand on your knee in a way reminiscent of the drive from the airport. Victory. Of course he’d date you, you’re wonderful. Not like, “dating one of the most famous hockey players ever” wonderful, but still. You refuse to feel down on yourself on Christmas Eve.

The drive home is mostly a blur, less from the alcohol and more from your racing thoughts. Sid has to squeeze your knee to get your attention when you get to his place, and you startle enough that both of you giggle. You don’t bother slinging your purse over your shoulder for the ten-step walk to the mud room, hanging it in its place as you kick your heels off into their designated area. You can’t help but give a pleased sigh and wiggle your sore toes. Probably should have broken them in more before wearing them to a party for four hours.

Each of you goes to your designated rooms, agreeing to meet back at the couch. You’ve sobered up considerably in the last couple hours, able to put on your pajama shorts while standing, despite being unable to get your stockings off the same way. But then again, can anyone get stockings off while standing? You’d like to see proof. Sid’s house is just warm enough that the soft flannel shorts don’t leave you cold, but you do pair it with an oversized t-shirt rather than a tank top. After massaging your feet for a minute or two, you head downstairs, bare feet barely making a sound against the hardwood and carpet.

Sid is still getting changed, presumably, so you gather his best big fuzzy blanket and the pillow he likes to prop himself up with. After arranging the pillow how he tends to like it, you curl up on the middle cushion and wrap yourself in the blanket to wait. You don’t bother searching for a movie, already knowing that you’re going to stump for It’s A Wonderful Life, and that Sid’s probably going to give in easily. It takes you a moment to realize he’s in the room, because he’s just standing off to the side staring at you, like a weirdo.

“You comin’ or what?” you ask rhetorically, seemingly snapping him out of some daze. He settles into the spot you’d set for him, pulling you down into his chest and smiling the entire time you wiggle around to get comfortable. He must be feeling that Christmas spirit. You tug the blanket up until it covers his lap and up to your shoulders, finally deeming the position comfy enough. He only puts up a token resistance when you suggest your movie, already searching it as he lists off random Christmas movies you could watch instead. None of them are as good as It’s A Wonderful Life, though, because It’s A Wonderful Life is the best Christmas movie by far.

It’s a long movie, and your eyelids begin to droop around the time George has to choose between the new factory and the Building and Loan. Between Sid and the blanket, you’re warm and safe and cared for, and you let yourself drift to sleep with a smile. Just before you get there, however, Sid rouses you. You look up to him with hooded eyes, returning his smile. Slowly, slowly, he leans down, tilting your head toward him with a pair of fingers until he can press your lips together. The kiss is soft and lingering, both your lips slightly chapped from the cold, the angle awkward, and it’s entirely perfect.

“Merry Christmas,” Sid says, and you stare at each other for a short eternity before both breaking out in laughter. What a cheesy move! But what else would you expect from him, honestly?

“Merry Christmas, Sid,” you reply once you’ve managed to calm. You’re still sleepy, but the smile refuses to leave your face, even as Sid leans down to kiss you again. You get the feeling you won’t have to worry about people asking if you’re Sid’s girlfriend anymore, but not for the reason you’d expected.