#I think there will be pictures tonight? I was just too incredibly tired to try last night.

[notbecauseofvictories]

Am about to start 4 back-to-back meetings with a vicious head cold, half a cup of coffee, a sleep schedule all over the place, and the dregs of everything I took last night to get my incredibly stupid, disease-ridden body to calm down for five seconds.

Pray for me.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

I'll Crawl Home To Her

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Summary: Simon is away on a mission and you are on his mind. Having to extend his stay, he is going to miss Valentine's day, but coming across a recent trend on TikTok, he may have a way to say just how much you mean to him.

***So, this came from the TikTok trend I came across of military guys posting pics of their girlfriends/wives/fiancees/etc. to the song Work Song by Hozier and I wanted Simon to do it too for you. So here it is! Just a little something extra***

***Pictures are made by me***

Simon can’t sleep, again. 

It’s been a while that his team has been in the field on their current mission and though he knows he should focus on the task at hand, there is so much on his mind tonight. Even though he is tired, he cannot seem to get himself to drift off. There is something missing, or more like someone, that he wishes to be beside right now and that is you.

He feels guilty about still being gone as he should be in by now, just in time for Valentine's day, but that isn’t happening anymore. Things on this latest mission are taking longer than expected and instead of packing up to come home to you, he had to have that hard phone call to tell you that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. In that call he heard it there in your voice: that twinge of sadness that you always try to mask through hopeful and kind words, holding back the crackle in your voice as you choke back the tears in hopes that he won't hear it, but he does. He always does.

As much as he loves his job he is ready to be back with you again and hearing that does not make it any easier. 

The dark surrounds him as Simon lays in his cot, trying to numb his mind with his phone propped up in his hand, hopeful that with enough distraction sleep will eventually take him. He knows there is no better way to keep his mind from wandering back to those things he cannot change than by idly watching short content videos and he knows just where to go for that. He clicks on the TikTok app and begins to watch. 

Scrolling through the drivel and waste, past people spewing their nonsense, a video comes across his feed that instantly brings you right back to the forefront of his thoughts. The first slide is a picture of a young man in his fatigues and tactical gear smiling at the camera. He is clearly in the field on active duty and there is text across him that repeats the lyrics of the song playing. His picture is followed by a slide with what Simon assumes is his wife with the next bit of lyrics over her. It looks like a new trend amongst military personnel on the app, a tribute to the ones they are going to come home to in the future: children, pets, significant others, family. 

The song tugs at his heartstrings from the moment it begins; it's one he hasn't heard before, but the lyrics make his heart ache and his arms feel so incredibly empty without the weight of your body filling them as the singer speaks about how even in death they would find their way home to the one they love.

And fuck if that isn't something he thinks about a lot. 

It is a burden of this type of job, leaving all part of his heart behind back home every time he has to go out. He knows this lifestyle isn’t easy on either of you, that even though you’ve been together for a couple years now, having him constantly be pulled across the world and away from you still has a certain bite to it. Yet with all that stacked against your relationship, not once have you ever been anything other than supportive. Standing beside him through it all, constantly choosing to give him your heart no matter how hard this gets, loving him through the all the shit that gets thrown his way; if there is anyone his soul would seek out even in death, it would be you. 

He clicks on the sound at the bottom of the screen with a lump welling in his throat and starts to watch more videos of the same. One video turns into two and then three and now his heart is aching something fierce, like a physical burning in the center of his hardened chest that he tries to rub away with his hand, but he knows it's not going to go until he's near you again.

This longing is worse than it has ever been before. He misses your touch, all that soft, warm skin under his hardened hands; he misses your laugh, that sweet sound that can make the sunshine come out even on a rainy day; he yearns for your mouth, those full lips that he can lose himself in. It's almost too much to bear being away from you at that moment.

Simon was never one for big displays of sentimentality. No one ever seemed worth breaking down those walls that he had built up to allow himself to be vulnerable in such a public way like that. It never seemed worth the sacrifice. And for a long time, no matter who he met, that was true…until you.

You broke the mold when you came into his life. Now his heart can't help but burst at the seams whenever you pop into his head. He could be a thousand miles away from you, stuck in some hot, miserable shithole in the middle of nowhere, like he is right now, and yet the moment he thinks of you it doesn't seem quite so bad. 

Because he knows there is a piece of heaven waiting for him, something wonderful that is all his that the struggle of his other life will not touch, not if he has anything to do with it.

Simon may have to miss being there on the day when people show their loved ones how much they care, but that doesn’t mean he can do nothing. As the videos continue to play, he gets an idea, one that will hopefully show you just how much he really does care. 

As much as you go on the app, he is sure you have seen a video or two like this come across your scrolling. You have probably sat there and watched just as he did, thinking about him being so far away, missing him something terrible. Maybe you would like to see him make a video like that for you. Either way, this is something he wants to do, needs to do.

Simon has no pictures of just himself on his phone, none without you in them, and so that’s his first order if he wants to do this right. He tries to do the easy thing the next day and take a selfie, but he can’t get one that looks good enough for him to keep. The more he takes, the worse he thinks they look and that means he is going to have to get help whether he wants to or not, otherwise he is going to back out of doing this and he’s not going to let that happen. 

This is for you after all, he needs it to be perfect. You deserve that.

He decides his best bet is wrangling Soap into doing this for him; at least he is the most comfortable asking the sergeant. “Johnny, I need ya to do somethin’ for me,” Simon says as the team stands around awaiting transport into the designated location. “Don’t ask any fuckin’ questions, but I need ya to take a picture a me real quick.”

“Wanna do a beauty shoot here, L.T.? Seems a bit of a strange location,” Johnny jokes as Simon pulls out his phone from his pocket and shoves it into the sergeant’s open hand. Johnny watches him for a moment, taking a guess at what this is all really about. “Or is it for yer lass back home? Gonna send her somethin’ nice?”

Shaking his head, Simon laughs sarcastically. “Just take the damn picture, yeah? An’ make it look good. I want it ta look natural.”

This isn’t something the masked officer has much experience in and so posing is out; he instead goes for something where it looks like he is caught unaware that he’s being photographed. He’s looking off in the distance, his hand wrapped around his gun so they don’t just hang awkwardly at his side. Johnny quickly snaps the pic and hands the phone back to Simon to check. 

“That’ll do,” he says under his breath, satisfied enough with how it looks.

That night as he lays down for bed, he quickly pieces the video together: first his photo and then he needs one of you. He opens his camera roll and it is absurd how many different ones he has saved. There are so many to choose from that he has a hard time picking the perfect one, but settles on something recent. 

It’s one of you in the bathroom of your apartment, all cozy in the striped jumper he got you for your birthday. Your hair is pulled down out of the bun you keep it in for work, a bit messy from just getting in after you got off. Never has he seen someone more beautiful in such a simple state; you always could look like a dream without even trying. And even through your exhaustion you still give the camera and him the biggest, brightest smile. 

Yeah, it has to be this one. This is the beauty he does all this for.

Luckily it is a rather simple video to put together, he doesn’t have too much trouble getting it to look exactly like the others. He has to watch and rewatch it several times just to be sure he is happy with the product before he hits upload to his followers only. Being that you are the only person that follows him, that is exactly what he wants; he may have to be a bit secretive for work, but that doesn’t mean he can’t try and give you some normalcy.

To him you deserve the world and fuck if he isn’t going to try and give it to you.

He presses the button, the uploading dial in the upper hand corner spinning until it reaches 100%, and waits to see if you get it, hoping that it has the effect he wants in saying all he needs to for you to know how special you are to him.

Across the country, your phone buzzes with a random notification as you lay in bed. It's from Simon's account on TikTok saying he's made a new post. You can’t help how strange you think it is… He never posts anything on his account because he really only made one for you to send him stupid videos to watch whenever he needs to unwind and so it takes you by surprise to see that he has posted something. Opening the app curiously you go straight to check out what it is.

You are not prepared for the emotion that hits you the moment the video starts to play. It’s one of those military posts you have come across a couple of times while scrolling late at night, the ones that you have to quickly scroll past or risk crying at how sweet they are and how much they make you miss Simon. Now the heartfelt Hozier song is blasting through the speakers and it is for you.  

The sentiment behind the lyrics of the song mixed with the picture of him on his latest mission is almost too much. And of course he has picked the picture of you looking all natural, it’s like he can’t get enough of you when you don’t even try at all. You know better than anyone how Simon despises having his picture taken if it isn’t with you, so this a huge sign of just how deeply he cares. Instantly there is a stinging around the rims of your eyes as your vision shimmers. You let the video replay several times as the stray tears are let loose and stream heavily down your face.

Simon did this all for you.

Quickly you pull up your texting app and send him a message, hoping he’s still up to at least answer. You have to rub your eyes with the back of your hand to see the screen, but you type out your message as best you can.

I want you to know I'm crying right now because of you. Is that what you wanted? Make me something that has me crying?

A few minutes pass before your phone buzzes with a text from him, just as you finish wiping away more of the tears collecting on your cheeks. 

Guess you saw the video, yeah? I hope I did it right, sweetheart. Cause I fucking mean it.

You chuckle, swallowing down the lump of feelings that have lodged themselves in your throat, struggling not to start sobbing at how his sweet affection. Of all the things that could be said about Simon Riley, one that could never was that he didn't try his hardest when it came to loving you.

The emotion makes your hands quiver, but you text him back.

It is perfect, Simon. I love it. Really, you did so good.

Simon smiles to himself, glad that your deep connection allows him to share things like this with you. There is no one else that can see him like this, that he can allow his guard down around, and it feels nice to be this tender for the first time in his life. He truly feels as if he can be vulnerable, let himself love with his whole heart, and it is all because of you.

Maybe I'm going soft, but I wanted you to know that I am missing you like mad and that I hate I’m not there with you right now. Fuck, it's getting hard. Can't wait till you're back in my arms again, darling.

You close your eyes and press your lips to the screen as if he can feel your kiss through the screen.

Love you.

Not even a minute passes and the phone vibrates.

Love you too, my beautiful girl. I promise I'll be home soon.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

TW: NSFW, dubcon if you squint

You are laying in bed, not sleeping, feeling sorry for yourself when your phone rings on your bedside table. You don’t recognize the number, so you answer with a cautious, “Hello?” 

“Hi, pretty girl.”

You pause a long beat, and not because you don’t recognize the voice on the other end. “How the ever-loving fuck did you get this number?”

It’s Officer Tom Ludlow, of course. Just what you need, on this night from Hell.

“I’m a detective, remember?” You can just hear the self-satisfied smirk, and he’s lucky he’s not standing in front of you, because tonight you just might have slapped him.

You use your moderately adequate brain for some deductive reasoning of your own, and realize, “You took my number from Julian’s phone. After you assaulted him.”

On the other end he lets out a long whistle. “Baby, that’s such a strong word.”

“Do not call me baby.”

“Alright. Sweetheart.”

“God, you are such a fucking caveman.”

“Thank you.”

You sigh, too fucking tired for this shit. Your heart feels like a chewed up piece of gum, and your lady parts are pulsing angrily at you for ruining their evening earlier.

They like the sound of Tom’s deep voice in your ear, and that is so not good.

“You okay?”

The question actually takes you aback, because the smarmy shit-eating tone is gone, and he sounds…serious?

“I guess. Why?”

“That doesn’t sound okay.”

“Why do you think it’s any of your goddamned business?”

“I told you. If Dr. Bitch hurts you, it is my business.”

“He didn’t hurt me,” you grumble. In fact, he didn’t really do much of anything to you. Now that more time has passed, the more annoyed you are about that.

Fuck if Detective Ludlow doesn’t seem to hear that in your voice too. “Ohhhh. Sounds like the Good Doctor didn’t hit anything?” 

“Oh my god. I hate you. Do you know that?”

He gives a low chuckle that absolutely goes straight to your deprived pussy, and you squirm a little in bed, so grateful he can’t see you.

“You wish you hated me.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Don’t hang up, pretty girl. Tell me what you’re wearing.” His voice dips low, and smooth as velvet.

Every hair on your body lifts in response to this, your nipples pebbling into painful points. Bastard.

“A parka.”

“Pshh. You sleep in a parka? Come on, baby.” How effective that soft, coaxing tone is at dissolving your inhibitions is alarming. You can almost see yourself, as though standing at the edge of a great abyss. If you jump…there will be no going back. 

“Fine. I’ll use my own imagination. I think you’re wearing…a cute little lacy negligee that just floats on your luscious curves…”

Well, you guess you’re getting a picture of what he likes.

“Jesus Christ. I’m wearing a tank top, you pervert,” you grouse, trying to shatter his fantasy. Nevermind the fact that you are now soaking wet, again.

“Nice. No panties?”

“I am wearing panties.”

“You aren’t going to need ‘em. Do you know what I’d do to you, after dinner, my beautiful nurse?”

“Gee, I bet you’re going to fucking tell me.”

“Oh come on. We’re having fun.”

“You are having fun.”

“But you’re still listening.”

Well, he has you there, the smug sonofabitch.

“Maybe.”

He chuckles at the other end of the line, a low sound that makes you clench with need.

“You’ve got to answer a question for me first.”

“What?”

“You’ve got to dip into that sweet little pussy for me, and tell me how wet you are on the scale from one to ten.” 

You should rip him a new one for this. Or just hang up. Why can’t you just hit the button and end this nonsense? But then…you’d be alone. Your real-time reaction is less dignified, but maybe more honest. 

You laugh.

It starts as a giggle, then crescendos into an all out guffaw. “Tom…you are a nut.”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, and goddamn if you don’t actually start to feel better. “Oh come on baby, don’t hold out on me. I’ve got a solid ten inches in my hand for you here.”

This makes you laugh even harder. “Ten inches?!”

“Ok. Maybe nine and a half.” 

You giggle, and you can’t stop. “I don’t know if I can handle all that, Officer Ludlow.”

You don’t know how his voice lowers even more, as he says, “Oh, I know you can take it. Don’t worry, I’ll ease it in nice and slow.”

Suddenly the bubbles of laughter in your gut go flat, replaced with an aching heat that sears your insides, your clit throbbing in response to his dirty mouth. It’s possible a kittenish little sound squeaks from the back of your throat.

You really don’t know where you get the courage to ask softly, “Yeah? Then what?”

“Then I would kiss all over those pretty, soft titties. I want those perfect nips in my mouth.”

You know you make a sound then, and he surely hears it. “Will you check them for me? Lick your fingers and give them a pinch.”

“You are ridiculous.” It comes out small, and breathy, and it doesn’t really sound like an insult at all. So what, if you do as he tells you? And so fucking what, if imaging it’s his hands on you makes you feverish with desire, a spear of longing throbbing in your cunt.

He doesn’t answer you right away, which means he’s busy with something else. Maybe Tom is just as pent up as you are from all this edging the two of you have been putting each other through. 

“Are you.. are you really?” You ask, hating how your voice exposes the fact that you’re not only pinching your nipples, but borderline feeling yourself up at the sound of his hiking breath. 

“Yeah, honey, I am.”

“Oh,” you say, because it’s the only thing you can think of. Your cunt is screaming below about how she wants to talk to Tom Ludlow because you’re doing a shit job at it. 

“Ah, fuck. Are you doing what I told you?” 

“No.”

“Good. Lick your fingers again, circle those pretty nipples for me. Close your eyes and imagine it’s my tongue. Fuck, I wanna suck on your tits so bad.” 

He doesn’t have to know that you’re following orders. That you’re grinding on the bunched blanket between your legs while you imagine his big, rude hands playing with your tits instead of your own.

“You listening to me, beautiful girl?”

“Yeah. Don’t get a big head about it.” 

“Good job. And too late.” 

“I do hate you, you know. I’m serious.” It has no real venom; in fact, it sounds more like a term of endearment at this point. 

He laughs. “C’mon, tell me how soaked she is.”

She’s flooded, is the answer. She’s dampening the pressed comforter, she’s throbbing and screaming and crying and pulsing to the tempo of his black coffee voice. 

You’re not much for vocals when you get off. You have neighbors that already have to hear about your dreams, and the act itself seems like more business than pleasure sometimes. When you were younger, you shared a room with your two sisters, so you learned to be quiet and discreet about rubbing your pussy. That all flies out the window when you sink two fingers into your sopping cunt at Tom’s direction. 

“10,” you hiss, straining to hit your gspot. Maybe you really do need to invest in one of those toys Sheila is always elbowing you about.

“Oh, poor baby.” Your walls flutter violently at his mocking tone. 

“I thought you were going to tell me what you would do to me after dinner?” Maybe you’re desperate, or just stupid. It doesn’t really matter when all you want is to orgasm on Tom’s voice.

“Thought I was? Didn’t I tell you about how I’m gonna dip into that sweet wet pussy, and play with your little clit with my thumb while I fuck you with this big cock? How do you like it, honey? Slow and deep? Fast and hard?”

You make a strangled little sound–because your fingers are just not enough, and it hurts. It hurts that he’s not here with you, filling you up, holding you down with those calloused hands and that filthy, insatiable, mouth.

“What was that?” 

His voice is strained, and you think you’re not the only one in pain here.

“Slow,” you answer. “At first.” Why exactly are you handing him this ammunition? How stupid, how dangerous, to offer up the keys to your undoing? You know he will only use this information against you.

“Mmm.” His breathing is labored, and the thought of him with his cock out, stroking himself to this dirty talk is almost too much to stand. Julian had you trussed and at his mercy right in front of him, but couldn’t keep it up. All Tom Ludlow needs is the sound of your voice. After the night you’ve had, that alone is nearly enough to make you cum.

“But then I like it deep,” you pant. “You think you got what it takes?”

“Baby, I’ve got everything you need.”

You are trying to be as quiet as you can, while you abuse your clit with your two middle fingers, practically holding your breath, getting high on the oxygen deprivation. You’re too quiet, you suppose.

“Don’t be shy, beautiful. Gotta let me hear it when you cum for me.”

“Or what?” you grouse. “Maybe I’m just…mixing pancake batter.” 

His laughter is strained, and you just know he’s close. “Or you’ll regret it, sweet girl. When I finally get these hands on you? Mmm I’ll make you pay. I’ll make you cum without mercy.” 

Again, you can’t help but compare the versions of punishment to the men in your life. Julian wants to hurt you. Tom just wants to make you cum.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah? You there, baby?”

You try to just breathe through your nose, to not give him the satisfaction–but you fail spectacularly.

“Y/n?” He calls, singing your name and making it sound so pretty and good and special. 

“Y-yeah?”

“You coming with me? I’m waiting for you.”

You’re right there, dangling over that sweet, slippery precipice that you can usually ease yourself over carefully. Tom gives you a little shove, and you’re plummeting. 

“That’s my girl.” He doesn’t sound much better off than you while you sob from the unexpected, haywire orgasm. 

It takes a long minute for you to come back to earth, come back to breathless Tom who isn’t saying anything for once in his life. 

That pleasant, floaty post coital bliss gets stained with shame when the clarity of who you just mutually masturbated with hits you. 

He talks first, what a surprise. “Do you feel better?”

“No.” But then, “a little bit.”

“At least one of us does.” You hear him shuffling around on the other end, maybe opening a fridge. It makes you smile to think of him jerking off at his kitchen table. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Why in God’s name are you still entertaining this conversation? You both got what you wanted, and if you stay here too long listening to his voice you’re going to be right back where you started—ready for round two. 

“I won’t feel better until you’re mine.” He sounds humorless, which worries you in itself even without the possessive words added. “C’mon, sweet nurse, aren’t you supposed to help me feel better?”  

“I don’t belong to anyone, Tom. I never will.”

“Oh? Bullshit.” 

“I’m hanging up.” 

Almost as if he knows you’re full of it, or maybe he just doesn’t care about talking into an empty phone line, he continues. “You’re telling me you’ve never wanted a man to take care of you? Protect you, defend you, fuck anyone up who even thinks to raise a hand or word against you?”

Honestly? That’s all you’ve ever wanted, although you’ll take that admittance to your grave. After a lifetime of taking care of other people, having someone to do that for you in return sounds like a castle in the sky. But, the thing about castles in skies? They’re imaginary. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Let me guess, you’d do all that and more?” Maybe the venomous sarcasm is a little too mean. 

He sighs as if you’re the one assaulting his date, stealing his number, and then calling to harass and annoy him. “Okay, tough girl. Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“No you won’t.” 

“Mm. Night, beautiful.” 

You wait for him to hang up. He doesn’t. You don’t, either. You feel his grin blossoming through the white noise of the line, listen to him rustle about, hear bottles clinking, water running, fabric swishing. Your eyes get heavy to the sounds of his nightly routine, lashes threatening to touch cheek. 

His voice is void of its usual gruff when it permeates the pleasant, strange, foggy land between awake and unconscious. “Baby?”

“Mm, yeah?” You try to make your mouth move properly, but the words come jumbled and slurred, weighted with exhaustion. 

“Sweet dreams.” 

[ladylooch]

Going Home with You- Timo Meier

A/N: Just cause I love these two and Timo had a great game today and I know exactly how these two spent the rest of their day 🥰

Word Count: 1.7k

Inside the group of Devils WAGS, Emma stands beside Kristen Haula, looking down at the newest addition to their family. The baby is in its holder, snuggles up into Kristen’s chest. Emma can’t help but steal glances at the little bundle every so often. Every time Emma sees a baby, she tries to wrap her head around the fact that there is one of those inside of her. It hasn’t quite computed. Maybe it will at their 19 week appointment next week when they get to see the baby again. 

Emma and Timo have told the team and most of their important  friends and family members now. It is starting to get real. As real as the baby yawning next to her while gripping its own fingers tightly. A smile tilts the corner of Emma’s mouth up seeing the baby’s little mouth stretch in a yawn again. 

“Very cute.” Emma murmurs when Kristen catches her looking.

“So cute. Makes all of pregnancy worth it.”

“I hope so.” Emma sighs, thinking back to those rough weeks in the first trimester when her body felt like it was revolting against her. “I am feeling better now.” Emma shrugs. “But my back is really killing me.”

As if on cue, her lower back tightens up and she leans forward, trying to stretch it out. A hand glides along her back, thick fingers beginning to dig into her reoccurring pain spot. Emma turns, looking over her shoulder to see Timo.

“Hi!” She smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck. He played so great today. She has been itching to get him into a hug since he scored early in the second period.

Timo chases her lips as she tries to press her nose into his shoulder. She tilts her head back, capturing his full mouth. His tongue is gliding along the seam of her mouth as his hands press her tighter into his body. Her bump prevents her from getting any closer. She feels pressure and rumbling where her bump pressed into Timo’s stomach. She contemplates, but ultimately unsure if that is the baby or the popcorn she couldn’t stop eating during the second intermission. When her and Timo separate, she is breathless.

“Wow, yeah.” She flutters her eyes closed, feeling blushy and giddy. “Hi.”

“Hi babe.” Timo murmurs. He pecks her one more time, then focuses his hands on her lower back. Emma grips the lapels of his suit as he rubs his fingers in. It feels incredible. She bites her lip to not let out a pregnancy soaked moan. His thumbs rub stretched circles into the back of her hip bones. She rests her forehead on his sternum and he kisses the top of her head. “Do you want to wait for Nico?”

“I should. He scored too.” Emma murmurs. “You guys kept me up and moving today.” Timo chuckles.

“That’s good, after you fell asleep during the Rangers game Thursday.”

“Look, I was tired. I didn’t get my nap in like you. Some of us are working weird hours to help support their business in Switzerland.” 

“This is true. My babies work so hard.” Timo nods, patting her bump. “Nico should be out in a minute. He was right behind me.”

Nico does indeed come sauntering out, hands in his pockets. He offers a hug to his sister and modestly accepts her excitement about his goal. Other than being with Timo, the best part of being in Jersey for Emma is getting to see Nico play consistently. The way this team ignites under his leadership gives Emma chills every night. Together, the three of them head out to the parking ramp. Lexi is working OT at the hospital and won’t be home until after 10:00pm tonight. Nico is going to the store to have dinner ready for her when she arrives. While Nico stops to take pictures and sign autographs for fans, Timo and Emma head home to their apartment. 

Once they are there, they order some pork belly ramen and plan to continue their quest of watching all the Marvel movies together on Disney+. Next up is Captain America: Winter Solider. Curled up under a blanket with Timo Meier is the only place in the world Emma wants to be. She can barely watch the movie because she is so focused on how good Timo’s body feels resting against her. Her pregnant body begins swirling with hormones, inducing thoughts of saddling up right here and giving him his reward now rather than waiting for the end of the night.

Her cheek perches on his pec. Her gaze drags off the TV to the tie of his sweatpants. Her hand moves down from where it was wrapped around his back, gliding along those ties and pulling them apart. Timo’s head turns away from the TV, lips ghosting over her head, watching her hand slide into the waistband of his cotton pants. Her palm glides down his shaft as it thickens in her grasp. She pumps him a few times, squeezing as she does so. Timo’s hand on her hip slides down the back of her yoga pants, gripping her bare ass.

It isn’t long before their pants are gone, shirts still on, as Emma bounces up and down on Timo’s cock. Her head falls back towards the ceiling, nipples pebbling against his callused palms as he holds her swollen breasts under her shirt. Emma is loud as she comes, stretched and used by his powerful body tonight.

“Ah.” Timo grimaces when her last wave releases them both. Emma steadies herself with her hands on his abdomen. “That hurt my ass a bit.”

Emma tilts her head to the side, looking utterly fucked out, not comprehending the issue.

“Hm?” 

“My butt hurts from the shot I blocked.” 

“Oh.” She rushes trying to get off him. Timo grips her hips tightly.

“No, no, no.” He murmurs, then drifts his eyes down to her belly. She looks so obviously pregnant right now with their baby. It stirs him inside her even as he just filled her up. “Wanna look at you like this some more.” So there she stays, until she absolutely cannot avoid getting off him to go to the bathroom. 

Timo is in bed when she is done. She comes out of the bathroom, smiling at the new panties and pajama pants he has waiting for her on her side of the bed. She slides them on, then gets into bed with him. She curls into his side, ignoring the pregnancy pillow that she itches to wrap around and under her too. She will eventually, but right now she wants to feel all of him against her. Timo rolls onto his side as she maneuvers a leg through both of his. Her socked feet tangle with his in the middle of their California King. 

“How is your butt now?” 

“It’s sore. Gonna have a sick bruise. Probably already do.”

“You think?” Emma murmurs. She shifts up, looking over his back and pulling his sweatpants and underwear down. He has a definitive reddish and purple mark from the puck. Emma cringes then leans forward and puts her lips on his butt cheek, kissing him softly. Timo’s ass tightens in surprise under her mouth.

“Whew, damn, babe. Warn a dude before we start doing butt stuff.” He jokes as she rolls back into her previous position after replacing his clothes. His palm slides across her bump immediately, settling in for his nightly hold of their child. 

“I hope you cleaned that cheek good in the shower.”

“Scrubbed it hard.” He murmurs, eyes shut. Emma leans forward, kissing his chin, then along his jaw until he starts kissing her neck. He sucks her skin in, rolling it over in his mouth. “How is your back?”

“I can’t do another round. Gave you everything I got.”

“Mmm, okay.” He agrees, halting his nibbling of her neck. He lays his head back on the pillow, scanning her face. “I am already missing you.” He confesses, speaking about his upcoming West Coast road trip. It’s about a week, but will drag on due to the large time difference. 

“How are you feeling about San Jose on Tuesday?”

“Um…” He trails off, running a finger along her chest, over the swells of her full breasts. “Weird?” He furrows his eyebrows. “Like I’m excited to go back but also a bit nervous.”

“I’m sure the fans will welcome you back. They loved having you there for so long. You grew up there.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, looking lost in thought.

“But coming here was a good move for you.”

“For us….” He smiles then leans forward to kiss her.

“Us? What, you’re finally going to admit you picked Jersey for me?” Emma murmurs.

“Yeah, babe. Of course I did.” He strokes her hair. “Did I think this is where we would be a year after my trade? No.”

“How disappointing…?” Emma trails off, looking at the red spot on his neck where his shoulder pads rub at him. She leans forward, kissing the irritated skin. 

“How lucky.” He corrects her. “This is everything, Em. Means nothing without you now.” He pauses. "I used to... imagine... in San Jose that one day, you would be waiting for me there after the game to go home with." He breathes in deeply. "But you never were. And I think that stung a few times last year, but it's because we were meant to have this instead. This life." He presses into the baby harder. "I love you so much, Em."

A smile curls along Emma’s lips as tender tears build in her eyes. She sighs happily, pressing her forehead against the heartbeat in his thick neck. Timo strokes his fingers over her back, resting his nose in her hair. Emma runs her hands under Timo’s t-shirt to cup the bare skin of his muscular back.

“I love you, babe. I loved our day too.” Emma whispers.

“Me too, baby. Good night.” 

Read more Timo and Emma here.

[starsurface]

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Regressor Lord Raiden w/ CG Liu Kang & Kung Lao

They spent the next little while mostly coloring and chatting, and of course cuddling. Raiden's picture was perfect!! Well, it was mostly just scribbles, coloring outside the lines too.

But it was the first time he had ever drawn outside the lines. And that itself was very important. Raiden usually fussy about his pictures needing to look nice. So he was probably very deep in his regression, an incident that has yet to ever happen.

Raiden seemed a bit sleepy. Not enough to get him to bed, but definitely somewhat tired. Most likely feeling almost exhausted after crying that hard. But Liu Kang and Kung lao knew toddlers. And while Raiden would go to bed if they asked, he'd probably get a bit fussy.

What was an activity that could tire him out? . . .

"What about a dance party?" Liu Kang suggested as Raiden finished.

Kung Lao pouted, "I am not done with my picture, mister."

"Dance?" Raiden asked, seeming interested.

"Yeah! We could turn on some funky music-"

"No one says funky anymore," Kung Lao butted it.

"And make a fun little dance!" Liu Kang continued, ignoring his friend.

Sometimes when Liu Kang was small, they'd have dance time!! So they had a small music player, mostly full of 80s-90s music. Raiden was incredibly good at dancing, so was Liu Kang. Little Raiden didn't dance much, but he enjoyed watching Liu kang dance.

"You wanna dance, kiddo?" Liu Kang asked.

"Blankie dance?" Raiden asked, he didn't wanna take off his blankie.

"I think blankie would love to dance!" Liu Kang agreed. Raiden let him go so Liu Kang could stand up, causing Kung Lao to fuss.

"You ruined my picture- I hope you're happy!" Kung Lao grumbled.

"Very much so," Liu Kang smirked, turning his music player on. "Okay, now we dance!"

Raiden was a very stiff dancer.

To try and help, Liu Kang danced his heart out. Some old 80s moves he liked doing sometimes that made others laugh. (It definitely got Kung Lao to laugh, mostly at him.)

But Raiden kind stood in place, his blankie wrapped around him. Smiling as he watched Liu Kang practically break it down. Kung Lao finished up his picture before joining Raiden's side.

"You know, your supposed to dance too," Kung Lao whispered to the God.

Raiden blinked at him before giving two small hops, looking at Kung Lao happily.

". . . I like that dance, that's a pretty nice dance," Kung Lao praised. "Better than Liu's over there."

"What?!" Liu Kang pouted, causing Raiden to giggle.

"Dance!" Raiden whispered, hopping again. It wasn't really a hop, he barely went onto his toes.

"Oh yeah, I like that dance way better!" Kung Lao nodded, bouncing himself. Although he actually bounced, compared to Raiden's tiny tippy-toe hops.

"You are being so mean tonight," Liu Kang crossed his arms, huffing, "So, so mean."

Raiden frowned, not liking Liu Kang's tone. Liu Kang had meant it in a teasing manner, but it made Raiden upset. He didn't want any conflict, he didn't want Liu to be angry, and he didn't want Lao to be mean.

"Lao, gotta say sorry," Raiden tugged on Kung Lao's shirt.

"What? I didn't do nothing!" Kung Lao pouted. Although he saw the tears that began to well in Raiden's eyes. "I mean . . I'm sorry for being mean tonight Liu."

Liu Kang smirked, sighing dramatically, "Well I guess I can accept this apology of yours, my friend."

". . . And I thought I've been spending too much time with Cage," Kung Lao nudged Raiden, earning a small giggle and a nod.

"Lao, getting sleepy," Raiden fussed, rubbing his puffy, tired eyes.

"You're getting sleepy?" Kung Lao asked, receiving a small nod. "Come on, we'll cuddle in my bed. It's much more comfy than Liu Kang's bed."

"Wha- I wanna join," Liu Kang frowned.

"Let Liu join, pease Lao?" Raiden asked quietly.

"Oh of course I will!" Kung Lao gently hushed him. "I'm not that mean. Of course Liu can come join our cuddle pile."

"I'll get my blanket!" Liu Kang smiled.

The bed was not at all big enough to fit all three of them, especially with Raiden's size. But, somehow, they made it work. Three blankets on top of them, limbs smushed together. Bad bad feelings gone away, and a tiny baby sound asleep in bed.

Fujin was thankful he found him like that. He had been there when Raiden first regressed, tucking him into bed afterward.

The baby must have gotten out to see his two friends. Fujin had been looking throughout the entire sky temple to find where on earth he was.

At least he was safe. A small lecture might be done tomorrow, but probably not.

. . . Especially if Raien was still small when he woke up.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Pt 1

[gofishygo]

i had a thought about marine life cod something something sighhhh and now i wanna draw them. all of them.

the first thing i thought of was vampire squid!konig.... you get what i see right, or like, he could be some other (massive) squid

gaz reminds me of a nurse shark.. number one, they're cute and look sweet, number two they look awfully boopable🎀🎀 there's no number three but just look at pictures of them that's literally gaz

soap would be a ray maybe?? specifically a spotted eagle ray. he could be a narwhal too because they're silly <3

phantom jellyfish!ghost obviously!!!

i'm thinking price could be a whale, but i'm not sure what yet? i;m so indecisive... beluga!price or humpback whale!price, perhaps?

and nikolai is a pilot whale like are you joking

i have no ideas for the others yet sadly because i have a little pea brain, but ill probably come up with some things soon...

fellow anon, DRAW THEM . I LOVE MARINE LIFE COD AUS SO MUCH RRHHRHRHRHRHRHRHHRHRHRHRHHRHRHRHHRHRHRHRHRHHRHRHRHHRHRHRHH !!!!!!!!! please pleasep lease dra them if u have time ....... they give me brain juices... .. . .. .

yayaya !!!! konig could definetly be a vampire squid !! tbh ive always seen him as maybe under the octopoda order (mostly due to the insane amounts of cthulu nd octo konig in this fandom) but i can certainly see him as a vampire squid !!! he gives the vibes- generally trying to contain the power he has and not get unnecessary blood on his hands (vampire squids are detritivore) nd a lot less menacing than it seems . more of an avoidant personality as well !!

and YAYAYYYAYAYYA gas is definitely some type of less aggressive shark !!! honestly nurse shark matches him the best but i occasionally believe he is a catshark or epaulette , they're easygoing and docile (IF UNPROVOKED) and so so cutie patootie i project my fav sharks on him bc he is my fav character

and soap does give ray vibes, but hear me out : eel soap >!?!! especially variants that hunt via electricity (like him !! but he uses bombs that arent necessarily IEDs but SAME THING) and r super duper energetic a lot , but oh em gee,,,,,,, he would make such a good spotted eagle ray .....

ok we all agree on phantom jelly ghost its cannon guys he is literally the big mysterious jelly

and price , although i like to think of him as a great white (better dynamics w/ other characters), he honestly would match a lot of species of whale much better . i forgot the name of this species specifically , but i do believe it was some type of bleaked whale ?? they scar white from injuries over time, and have a long lifespan . most of them will turn white over their lifespan due to the injuries that they get, and i think that does go after price's military career and how his scars the events he's lived through have sort of become part of him (ghost could definitely be this species too now i think about it), and how he's lived past points where his allies have fallen .

OK NIK AS A PILOT WHALE . YEYSYYEYS THATS FUNNY AS FUCK HAIJASHFKFH

i would like to think that laswell would be some form of species of whale , maybe one that is intelligent and capable of many forms of mutalism relationships due to her being ... yknow .... insanely based ....

makarov would be an orca. highly intelligent, only realised to be extremely dangerous once studied. ganging up on every fucking fish in the world. capable of competing with other apex predators like great whites.

graves.... unpopular opinion, but he is a stonefish . sneaky bastard and incredibly fucking dangerous . but stupid looking and a silly skrumkle very much so .

nyways i am too tired to think but i will go to sleep dreaming of the 141 eating salmon tonight ......... thank u very mysterious but very lovely fishy anon ...........

[luna-writes-stuff]

Jackie and Wilson, Pedro Pascal

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader

Meet-cute, fluff

Word count: 3168

Tw: I hate this fic haha, but enjoy anyway. Also, you’re a bartender now so obvious mentions of alcohol. Paparazzi, slight anxiety, mutual pining. Making fun of paparazzi? That’s it?

Summary: You work in a local bar when the building is suddenly surrounded with paparazzi. You knew why they were there - you had already served him two drinks. However, instead of throwing him out, you got talking with him. And after a day of keeping up appearances and minding rules, you are an incredibly comfortable distraction to him.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

“So tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes. No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight. So deep in this swill with the most familiar of swine. For reasons wretched and divine.”

When a career finally takes off, it could offer one more than they bargained for. Take a wealthy lawyer, who bathes in money, but wallows in sunken dignity and dishonesty - or a proclaimed doctor, who performs surgeries and saves lives like no other, but returns home with dreadful stories of the day and baggage they wish they could have left at the hospital.

When an actor’s career begins to take off, they will gain fame. A fandom is built, money flows in, your name can be seen on billboards; it seems as if you are on the top of the world. But with that also comes the need to constantly watch what you say or what you do. Be professional during interviews, don’t spend too much time taking pictures with fans on a red carpet, don’t go out too much or the restaurant might have to close because it can’t handle its guests’ capacity.

It could bring stability, financial safety, a feeling of satisfaction - the ability to take care of those who you love and spoil them unconditionally. But regardless of how often stars will tell you that the famous life can be miserable, most fail to correctly grasp this concept.

You weren’t famous by any means. You worked in a local bar, serving local drunks and local students. So, when a crowd of people began to gather in front of your windows, taking pictures with obnoxious flashes with no apparent respect, you had been taken aback. After multiple warnings and questions for privacy, your boss had finally called the police to clear the situation. Then, after two hours, it was finally somewhat quiet again.

“She blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild. Laughing away through my feeble disguise. No other version of me I would rather be tonight. And, Lord, she found me just in time.”

However surprised, you were not stupid. You knew why they were here, or - more specifically- for who. You had served him two drinks at the bar before he retreated to the table in the far corner of the room, further away from the windows. He didn’t even have to say his name before you put the drinks on his tab. You didn’t hide the fact that you knew him, but he was a customer. You were not going to hinder his privacy or dignity if you could help it. Not during work hours, not after work hours. Which brought you back to the point that it was company policy that a customer on tap had to order at least one drink every thirty minutes, or they had to make room for new customers.

And thus, with the crowd finally cleared, you made your usual round of the room, taking orders and offering people their drinks. When you finally arrived at his table, you grabbed his empty glass, immediately drawing his attention to you. “Can I get you anything else?” A polite smile was shot from him as he nodded briefly, then turning back to his phone. As you grabbed a pen, you tried to strike up a casual conversation, not even thinking about your words until they were spoken: “If you don’t mind me asking, what brings you all the way here?”

Shocked at your own words, you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, remembering his line of work and his reputation. “And if you do mind me asking, just tell me it’s work.” You quickly added, now grabbing the notepad as well. Pedro only chuckled at that, putting his phone on the table as he looked back at you: “I don’t mind you asking,” he answered. “But it is work.”

Raising your eyebrows, you nodded at him with a relieved smile. “Lucky guess.”

“'Cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done. I need to be youthfully felt 'cause, God, I never felt young.”

Seemingly pondering his next words, he spoke before you could begin your next sentence, a gentle expression on his face. “The place I’m staying at had cameras on me at every angle. Figured I’d have a little more privacy in a downtown bar.” You pursed your lips at that, nodding sarcastically: “Ah yes, that worked great.”

Again, you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head as you tried to correct yourself. “I’m sorry.” But instead of a stupid remark or an uncomfortable silence, you heard his laugh followed by a dismissive wave. “No, you’re fine.”

His eyes fell upon the pad before you, unseemingly changing the subject: “I’ll have another cola.” Observing his smiles and laughs made some part of confidence grow within you. All night he had ordered nothing but cola, and where you would usually tease your customers for it, you found yourself somewhat withdrawn with him.

You didn’t know if it was because of his entire reputation or simply the way he looked at you, but you were hesitant to speak your next words. But when he continued to gently smile at you, you couldn’t resist the light tease: “It comes with a lemon. You sure you can handle that?”

“She's gonna save me, call me "baby" Run her hands through my hair. She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily. Better yet, she wouldn't care.”

You didn’t know it then, but that simple remark had made him feel incredibly at ease. A day filled with formal greetings and the constant need to make himself look presentable faded the second you teased him over ordering another cola. He didn’t even have time to comment on your words, your figure already making its way back to the bar.

It was your coworker who later arrived at his table with his drink. When he couldn’t see you behind the bar, he stood up, grabbing his stuff as he made way to the long counter. He had sat down on one of the chairs, trying to subtle glance around the room trying to catch any glimpse of you.

You walked back into the building a handful of minutes later, announcing your break to be over. That had explained why he couldn’t see you. Your face lit up slightly as you noticed that he changed his seating, now in front of you as you would work. In a way, it didn’t seem distracting nor unwanted. If anything, part of it felt comfortable.

“We'll steal her Lexus, be detectives, Ride 'round picking up clues. We'll name our children, Jackie and Wilson. Raise 'em on rhythm and blues.”

“Corner got lonely?” You asked, hanging your jacket up behind you before turning around, facing him from the other side of the bar. “Music’s better here.” He countered, pointing to the box above the doorway. You followed his gaze, rolling your eyes jokingly as you spotted the equipment.

“Here I thought you were beginning to like me.” You quipped, grabbing a glass as you began to clean it. He watched you work, unsure if he should interrupt or not. “You lied,” he suddenly said, gaining your attention. His hand raised slightly, the cola clutched tight in his fingers. “It doesn’t come with a lemon.”

You grinned at him, reaching for a slice of lemon before handing it to him. “I did promise.” You agreed, returning to your work as he grabbed the slice from your hand. Once more, a silence fell over the two of you.

“Lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime. Me and my Isis growing black irises in the sunshine. Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside. We'd sit back and watch the world go by.”

“You from around here?” He asked, trying to fill the silence. You shrugged at him, knowing it was no good idea to announce your address in a public space. But a vague idea could never hurt: “Ten minute drive,” you revealed. “Why?”

Toying with the straw in his drink as he pushed the lemon down, the man revealed: “I was wondering what there was to do around here. It’s gonna be at least two more days.”

You scoffed at that, finding pity in the fact that he of all people got stranded in a town not widely known for its publicity, media, or events. Yet, a world famous star was sitting in front of you, and you were about to announce that there was nothing to do here.

“Light shopping?” You tried to promote, referring to your local stores and perhaps three big brands. “Maybe the cinema plays a good film, but that’s about all you’ll find here.” Placing the glass back on its original place, you spun around with a dramatic gesture of your hand. “You’re stranded in the middle of nowhere, my good sir.” Humming lightly, you spoke the hooking cords of the infamous Eagles song: “Welcome to the Hotel California.”

“Happy to lie back watch it burn and rust. We tried the world, good God, it wasn't for us.”

Pedro shook his head in entertainment, earlier anxiety slowly settling down as the nerves left his system. Being around someone who was somewhat nonchalant about him made him feel relaxed in some sort of unusual manner. It wasn’t unwelcomed, though.

“Any good restaurants?” He continued, his interest growing as he tried to build up to next questions. You remained oblivious to his intentions though, and happily answered him: “Like a handful. There’s not much here.” When he failed to respond to that, you grabbed a post-it, already jotting down some names. “I could give you a small list of recommendations.”

He simply hummed in reassurance, peeking over the bar to look at what you were writing down. He could not help but feel slight disappointment as he found out you were indeed writing down names of places that sounded a lot like restaurants and cafes. So, maybe flirting hadn’t been his strong suit, but he was steadfast if he was anything. He just leaned back, leaving you to finish your writing.

“She's gonna save me, call me "baby", Run her hands through my hair. She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily. Better yet, she wouldn't care.”

When you handed him the note, he pretended to read the names, asking you a question while his eyes remained on the paper: “What’s your favourite place? One you can really recommend?”

Instead of a genuine answer, what he had expected, you laughed instead. When he looked at you, he noted the way your expression had also found slight humour in his earlier words. “Way out of my budget,” you chuckled. “Went there once for a birthday.” Then, you looked at him, shrugging as you remembered what he did in life. “Might be your alley, though. And otherwise, the local cafeteria serves amazing fries.” You put the emphasis on amazing, almost imagining the dish in front of you now. You could go for some good fries.

“Could you show me where?” His voice tore you from your thoughts, forcing you back to the bar, his eyes gentle. Instinctively, you reached for the paper, ready to start writing again: “I’ll write the address down.”

“We'll steal her Lexus, be detectives, Ride 'round picking up clues. We'll name our children, Jackie and Wilson. Raise 'em on rhythm and blues.”

You didn’t see the slight defeat in his eyes as you mindlessly grabbed your phone and started looking up addresses. If you had, you wouldn’t have even taken the card to begin with. You would have decided to tease him back on it. But you hadn’t seen it.

In his eyes, it felt like another let down. Either he was being too low-key, you were being too oblivious, or this was your way of letting him down easy. You did stand behind a bar all night. He wouldn’t be the first, nor would he be the last to try to make a move. You must have mastered turning down flirting attempts during that time.

When your eyes finally rose, you did see the way his eyebrows had furrowed slightly, or how that friendly smile had lightly faded. When he noticed you were looking at him, he gave you a questioning look. Not one of curiosity, but as if he was asking you if you had understood him or not.

“Oh.” You sighed, ultimately catching onto his meaning. Your heart skipped a beat when he didn’t try to defend himself. He had been genuine. You could almost curse yourself for not having paid more attention.

“Cut clean from the dream at night, let my mind reset. Looking up from a cigarette, and she's already left.”

“If you would be okay with that.” He added, his voice more hushed than before, almost as if you had already rejected him. At that, a feather light feeling entered your stomach, the ability to form words finally coming back to you: “The cafeteria or…” you trailed off, unsure of where he wanted to go.

At your words, that same smile climbed back, neither of you missing the slight and - unsuccessfully - suppressed sigh of relief. “Your favourite place.” He cleared up.

You nodded at him, handing him the post-it, now filled with tiny scribbles of street names. “Cafeteria it is.” You decided.

“You sure?” He asked, putting the note in his pocket, his full attention now on you. You hummed in affirmation, waving your hand off in the distance. “I can’t afford that restaurant.” You shared, but interrupted him as he went to speak. “And I am not going to let you pay for everything.”

Though he wanted to, he hadn’t argued with it that night. Nor did he the night after, or the night after that. It wasn’t until you officially started going out, that you allowed him to lay for your dinner every so often.

“I start digging up the yard for what's left of me and our little vignette. For whatever poor soul is coming next.”

And now, three years later, you were seated in that exact same cafeteria you had dined in back when you first met. When your boss had to call the cops in order to get the paparazzi to leave. It was insane to consider you had not become used to them, even if that was not a fond thing.

To him, you felt like a moment of pure nothingness; he didn’t have to pretend or hold up to any expectations. There was nothing he needed to say or needed to hear. As insane as it might have sounded to him, he simply felt like a normal person around you again. As if he had never become famous, and never played in award-nominated shows and films. And that was why he had initially fallen for you. It was because of your calming demeanour. And none of that had changed through the years.

“They’re not making it subtle, are they?” You joked, as you watched a man with his long lens camera with flash on sitting on a terrace on the opposite side of you. Fries were stuffed in your mouth as Pedro was munching away on some greasy burger. Opening your mouth in an undignified manner, you turned to the camera, flipping them off, before returning to your meal.

Pedro laughed at you, holding his hand in front of his eyes as he tried to hide himself. Grabbing the straw from your drink and the straw of his own drink, he fumbled with them for a while, before turning to look at the camera, the straws now dangling from his teeth like some sort of vampire with a new set of pearls. You snorted at the sight, banging your fist on the table as you held your hand in front of his face, pulling the straws from his mouth: “Now it has your gross bacteria all over it.” “Ew,” he returned in a high pitched voice, mocking your speech.

“She's gonna save me, call me "baby", Run her hands through my hair. She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily. Better yet, she wouldn't care.”

“This is how you get cooties,” you laughed, pointing the straw at his face in an accusing manner. “Disgusting,” Pedro agreed with a grin, pulling the straw from your fingers. Then, he stuck them in his drink, ignoring your betrayed looks. “Asshole,” you scolded with a chuckle

“You know, about three years ago, we sat right there?” His finger pointed to the bar at the end of the street where you used to work. Having now been together for more than two years, you quit your job soon after, noticing the publicity wasn’t working for your job. It wasn’t helping the bar and it wasn’t helping you. You remembered how guilty Pedro had felt when you told him, even after you had reassured him how you knew this going into the relationship. It was all the more reason for him to spoil you even more now.

“I think we caused the manager to grow grey hair prematurely,” you confessed, forcing another chuckle out of his throat. “That may have been my fault.” He added. “I walked into that bar to get a moment of peace. And that’s where I found you.”

“We'll steal her Lexus, be detectives, Ride 'round picking up clues.”

You smiled at him, fondly remembering that moment. “You could have had any model or superstar, and you choose someone who catered to local drunks.” “An important job,” Pedro added in a joking voice. You joined him: “I’m sure there are some who would agree with you on that.”

From over the table, his hand found yours, squeezing it fondly. “I don’t think I would want any model or superstar now that I know what I could have missed.” “Sap.” You interrupted, yet you returned his affectionate gesture all the same, silently letting him know you were appreciative of his words.

“I’m glad you walked in too,” you admitted. “Even though I had no idea what to say to you.” “You said the right thing,” he assured. “Besides, who else would I bully paparazzi with?” As he said that, he waved to the man with the camera with an unenthusiastic expression.

And moments like these were a perfect depiction to him why it was you and would always be you. Even with cameras on him and his privacy being scarce, you remained beside him, taking it upon yourself to mess the pictures, sometimes marking them unpublishable due to certain symbols being made on them. You were his distraction and his moment of solitude. Perhaps he would have found it in anyone else, but he had no desire to figure that out. You were with him now, and he would hold onto that for as long as he could.

“We'll name our children, Jackie and Wilson. Raise 'em on rhythm and blues.”

[brighteststar707]

Faye!!! Congrats on your two years 🎉 I'm so so incredibly happy that we met through good old Mysme I could CRY fr. You are so special to me!!

So I was thinking for a while but didn't want the slots to go, so I'm gonna come outta nowhere and SHOCK HORROR not pick either of my two husbands, Jumin or Zen.

But how about number 30, confiding in them, with Vanderwood. The little tease we got in V's route just made me smitten at the time. He literally is thrust into the RFA drama and I can't help but feel he'd connect with MC. Like lord help us Vandy, wtf is going on.

Lola! Thank you so much for your message! I'm so grateful to have met you, you mean so much to me and I wish only the best for you <3

I'm pleasantly surprised by your request! It's a good event when I can write more than one fic for Vandy.

Picture this: It's V's route, Seven has saved you from Mint Eye, now you, V Seven and Vandy are in the cabin. Your relationship with V is.... not really existent at this point so this fic could be romantic when you squint hehehe

Love ya <3

Confiding in Them

✦Vanderwood x Gn!Reader ✦ Words: 1553

Time in the cabin feels like it has slowed down to a crawl. It is dark outside, and eerily silent. Inside, there are only the sounds of footsteps back and forth across the floorboards, and V’s harsh breathing in the next room. The repetitive nature of the noises has only added to the liminal feeling.

You had reassured the others that you weren’t tired, and then promptly fallen asleep on the sofa, still sitting upright with your jacket draped over your shoulders. When your eyes opened again, you weren’t sure how long you’d been asleep for, or where your dreams ended and reality began. Your life lately has been so strange, it has been hard to keep track. You had dreamt of car chases and cult initiations, the faces and voices of your loved ones so close and yet out of reach. How was that any different to what you had experienced over the last week?

Someone had covered you with a spare blanket when you were asleep, as well as lit a fire in the fireplace opposite you. It was warm, and you were still disoriented from sleep, so you stayed put, wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself and watching the fire dance over the logs.

You allow yourself, maybe for the first time, to process the fact that you managed to get away from Mint Eye and everything they had planned for you. In the (relative) silence of the cabin, with everyone else occupied, it starts to sink in. Back there, with a part of you constantly in fight or flight, it was hard to process the reality of your situation. You were just trying to survive. Now that you’re safe, it all hits at once.

The isolated compound, the flowery pink room, the wardrobe full of clothes made to your measurements. Ray, monitoring your conversations with the RFA, his kindness that teetered on the brink of desperation. The minty blue of his eyes, too vibrant to be natural. The silence in the hallways, so unsettling for a building so full of people.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

You jump and turn your head towards the speaker. You were too caught up in your own thoughts to hear him approach you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Vanderwood says. To his credit, he does actually look apologetic.

His voice is quiet, deep, and still unfamiliar to you. You have grown used to the voices of the different RFA members, have even started to find a certain comfort in hearing them. On the other hand, he is still practically a stranger to you.

You had very briefly met Vanderwood when he first got to the cabin to help Seven, but you had said little to each other since.

“It’s okay. I’m just a bit jumpy, I guess.”

“From what I’ve seen tonight and what Seven told me – which isn’t much, mind you - that’s not surprising.”

Seven has been keeping an eye on Vanderwood since he entered with a vaguely threatening air you haven’t yet seen from him, reminiscent of someone keeping their attack dog on a short leash.

“What did Seven tell you?”

He joins you on the sofa, sighing deeply before answering. He has been at V’s bedside, tending to him in his terrible state, since arriving, and he has good reason to be tired.

“He has kept most of the story from me. I know that that guy back there has been fed more different drugs than I’ve ever seen before and that you’re his…?” He leaves it open-ended and throws you a meaningful look. He’s still trying to fill the holes in his story.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t even know what we are.” Thinking about V too much makes you scared all over again, so you change the subject. “What else do you know?”

“Nothing except that you were there with them. He’s smart enough to keep RFA stuff away from agency stuff most of the time. I guess desperate times call for desperate measures, though.”

“You can say that again.”

You sound wearier than you mean to. The longer you think about everything, the more ridiculous it all sounds. You watch as a log cracks in the fireplace with a satisfying pop and feel Vanderwood turn to assess you for a moment.

“And who are you in all of this?”

“That’s a long story.”

“And I am a very good listener. Literally, it’s part of my job.”

You laugh. He doesn’t.

“Really, I feel like I haven’t talked to a single person since I arrived - Seven doesn’t count. I need a change of scenery.”

It isn’t that his voice softens, but he sounds like he’s choosing his words more intentionally this time he speaks. It makes him sound more sincere. Maybe that’s what encourages you to indulge him. Or maybe, you just need someone to help ground you now that you feel like you’ve detached from reality.

“Well, I was sort of… kidnapped and held hostage in this cult?”

His eyebrows disappearing into his fringe is the only thing that gives away his surprise. He scans you once over, a well-practiced look. He’s looking for any obvious damage.

“I’m fine, you say quickly, “Seven managed to save me before anything really bad could happen.”

He nods. “You can trust him with these things.” He thinks for a moment, before quickly adding, like a sudden thought that came into his mind “were you with the hacker?”

“Yeah.”

“You met him? What was he like?”

The questions tumble out of his mouth faster than he can stop them. Is this what he sounds like when he’s excited? You had heard him discussing the hacker with Seven earlier, asking questions with his eyes wide. Turns out it’s rare for someone to give Seven this much trouble.

“Strange. Kind of sad. I wish there was something I could do for him.”

Vanderwood’s enthusiasm vanishes.

“Then he sounds just like the rest of us.”

In the silence that follows, you both turn your attention back to the fireplace. The flames seem to have a life of their own, and your cheeks feel warm from the heat of it. Somewhere, from another room, you hear Seven’s voice. You wonder who he’s talking to, or if it's just to himself.

“So, if that guy,” Vanderwood gestures back to the bedroom where V is sleeping, “was drugged to oblivion by that cult, how did you get out okay?”

“He has a bit of a personal history with their founder. The whole RFA does, actually, but his is more… delicate, from what I understand. See, I’m the stranger in this equation.”

“Huh. I don’t know why I expected this to be simple. Nothing Seven involves himself in ever is.”

“They used to all be like a family once apparently. I’m still trying to understand it all myself.”

He puts his head on his hands for a second in a show of exhaustion. “Maaaaan…. how are you staying sane through all of this? Just hearing the gist of things is making me tired.”

You’ve been asked this question a few times, but you’ve never given the real answer any thought before. Next to V, who could barely stand upright and was talking to the air last time you were at his bedside, you were always fine. It felt wrong to even imply otherwise.

But now, when you think about where you were a week ago and how much has changed since then, you aren’t so sure. You can’t remember the last time you felt rested and, even though you’ve been reassured that you’re safe here, you’re scared someone is watching you. You can’t even think of walking down the street by yourself before you break out in goosebumps.

"Oh. I guess you hadn’t gotten that far yet, had you?”

“No… I guess not. Is it that obvious?”

He holds out a gloved hand in front of your face and taps your forehead once, lightly.

“You’re easy to read. Or maybe it’s just me.”

With only the flickering firelight on his face, his expression is hard to make out, but you find some comfort in his gesture.

“I feel like none of it is real. At least if you can see it, it means that I’m not making any of this up.”

He nods and you lapse back into a comfortable silence.

“Hey, I know it may not be much coming from me, but I think you’ve got some good people on your side at the moment.”

You’re not sure what possesses you to ask, “Is that including you?”

He seems to be stunned for a moment before he smiles. It transforms him into a brand-new person, and you can imagine what a different life might have looked like on him. Your anxiety gets pushed down by a wave of pride at managing to elicit that expression from him. You have a feeling it’s quite rare.

“Yeah, I guess it does.”

Suddenly, V groans loudly, startling the both of you. Vanderwood jumps back to his feet and quickly follows the sound to the bedroom door. Before he disappears completely, he turns to you and says, “Listen, I need to go back to playing nurse, but can we talk more a bit later?”

You smile.

“I’d like that.”

[stvngrantsgf]

i'll keep you company ☆ steven grant x m!reader

summary: steven is stood up on a date and a kind restaurant owner keeps him company.

steven had done it again. he'd fucked up another date because marc insisted on one last mission for the night. which obviously turned into six hours of traveling, scoping out the place, and then taking down the last of ammit's followers hidden in london.

steven was happy and understood the responsibility that marc and him both carried but for once, he just wanted to feel normal and again and maybe, just maybe, find someone to love. layla was out of the picture as she told both the boys that while she cared for them, she didn't want to have an romantic relations due to their past with her father and the "issues they needed to work out".

steven had had a date with a pretty boy he met on the bus but he was late. incredibly late. so there he was, moping at his favorite vegan restaurant, eating a mushroom burger with marc trying his best to cheer him up.

look, i'm sorry. i swear that's the last time i'll ruin a date.

he sighed, mumbling back to marc, "yeah, yeah. it's alright. didn't really know the bloke anyways.."

lies. they'd been texting non stop and now his number was blocked.

you'll find another one. you're a total catch.

steven snorted, "yeah, maybe you are. not me. i'm just little stevie."

he made a face using the name donna gave him. he was tired of ruining things with the rare people that gave him chances.

hot guy coming over.

☆

you had been eyeing the man sitting in the corner of our shop for a while. you had seen him many other times and wanted to approach him but was too nervous. he was always shy but happy and tonight, well, he was not himself.

you figured this was your chance. you could talk to him about what was troubling him and get to know him. so, you had walked over.

he looked up before you could speak. his eyes were a warm brown color and you could see every line on his face. he was beautiful. your voice got stuck in your throat, coming out a bit squeaky and you breathed out a hello. 

he gave a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes but was still polite. “oh, uh, hello.”

you completely forgot what you had came over for until you looked at his plate which was almost finished. “people don’t usually look so miserable eating my food.” you chuckled.

he blushed, his eyes widening and obviously trying to think of what to say. 

“oh- bloody- i’m so sorry, no your food is amazing. best burger i’ve eaten. that’s not meat. even beats meat, i’ll honest. sorry, i’m rambling now.” his eyes fell down, a frown coming on. 

oh no, you made him sad! stupid, stupid, stupid! you pulled out the chair opposite to him and sat down. 

“it’s quite alright. i was just teasing.” you watched his face for a moment. “are you okay?”

his face crumbled. this poor man was obviously going through a lot. he sniffled and wiped his eyes.

“i’m sorry, i’m not usually this much of a downer-”

“please, stop saying sorry-”

“sorry.”

you met his eyes and you both broke into laughter. 

“no one’s asked me if i was okay in a while.” he continued, “i, uh, was late for a date and he’s blocked me now.”

a date? you thank the gods for him missing the date, but then feel horrible as he’s this troubled.

“you must really like him, huh?”

he shakes his head. “no, i mean, he was sweet and all. but it’s just this has happened before, with other people. i have terrible memory.”

“i’m sorry to hear that... were those for him?”

you point to white flowers wrapped in brown paper and a very cute teddy bear. the man grimaces, “yeah, they were.”

“i hope you don’t take this the wrong way,” you start. “but, i see you here a lot and i’ve been trying to figure out how to say hi without sounding like a fool. if you would like to have a date tonight, i’ll keep you company.”

his eyes widen, and he stutters. “w-with you?”

you bite your lip nervously. “well, yeah. i completely understand if you say no-”

“yes! i mean, yes, i’d love to go on a date with you. i’m steven.”

you smile and tell him your name. steven repeats it. 

“that’s a beautiful name. so, you own this place?”

you nod, taking it all in. “yes, i do. it was my mother’s bakery but she gave it to me when i told her i wanted to be a chef.”

“that’s fantastic. she must be proud.”

“yeah, she is. so, steven, what does a handsome guy like you do? model?”

“me?! a model?!” he belly laughs. “if i was a model, the gods would be having a right laugh. no, i’m an archivist at natural history down the street.”

“are you serious? that’s so cool! i used to go there all the time when i was a student with my sister.” 

the conversation flows from there and you both gush to each other about your interests in art, music, and history. you’ve never felt this connected to anyone before and the mystery man in your shop was better than you ever imagined. 

☆ 

steven hadn’t expected his night to turn out exciting and romantic. he felt understood and seen for the first time in his life. he didn’t feel as if he was a burden or stupid. you listened to him and his rants about donna and marc (who he referred to as a friend). before you knew it, it was way past closing time and you both were the only ones seated in the store. 

steven looked at you, desperate to continue to conversation. “could i get your number, love? i would love to see you again.”

you quickly nodded, pulling out your phone. “here, type yours in and i’ll shoot you a text.”

he passed your phone back and reached behind him, picking up the flowers and teddy bear. he was incredibly nervous. “i’m glad i missed my date and talked to you instead. please, these were meant for you.”

you smiled. “you’re an angel. thank you, sweetheart.”

you looked at him, contemplating kissing him before decided to go for it. 

his lips tasted like the cherry pie you two had shared and were soft. your lips moved together slowly, enjoying the moment. you cupped the back of his neck, pulling him closer across the table and slipping your tongue into his mouth. 

finally, you both separated for air. you forehead rested on his, both of you softly panting. 

you licked your lips and spoke first, “i’ve been waiting to do that all night.”

his eyes were glazed and his pupils blown out. “breakfast? please?”

you nodded, smiling and pecking his nose before sitting back down, “yeah, baby. meet me here at 10.”

☆ 

I HOPE THIS IS OKAY I DIDN’T CHECK FOR MISTAKES. 

[barrenclan]

(floors it through the wall of your living room in my toyota corolla) HELLO i have another song rec. Nunemaker’s Parable by Everybody’s Worried About Owen as a potential rainhaze song perhaps?

[BIG Music Compliation Post]

MY WALL

"There was a wanderer who found his way to God Or maybe it was Lucifer under some false facade"

"Leave me the way all those other homes did But leave me a soul, only by definition I don't want to feel anything"

"With no conscience, I'll make money and I'll lie and cheat and steal And that money won't bring happiness But let me ask what does"

"So now I'm broken fundamentally And nobody gets why"

"She said "Mister, you look tired I will let you go, but first I think that what you're asking for It just might make things worse"

Incredibly fitting for him, as it happens.

I'm pretty sure this has been suggested before, but I like the song and it fits Hush Puppy very well.

"But me and my husband We're doing better It's always been just him and me Together"

"And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved"

I'm not certain this fits anyone in the comic, really... I can see where you're coming from but it's too confident for Cormorantpaw, and the lyrics about "making a woman out of me" really don't fit him. Still a cool song!

Oh yeah! You know it babey! Cormorantpaw is singing.

"So can I call you tonight? I'm trying to make up my mind Just how I feel Could you tell me what's real?"

"Don't go, don't go so easy Don't go, don't go and leave me"

I agree! I like Cormorantpaw wishing for a childhood he never had, and especially for someone to take care of him.

"Honestly I've had enough of looking at a dead man I just wanna scrape my knees Cry until my mommy sees"

"I just wanna be a kid But I don't wanna be a kid who was born like this"

Oh, I wonder where you got this song. *direct eye contact* Really, though, I think you're very right, and I always like a somewhat eerie old folk song.

"Round like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel Never ending or beginning on an ever spinning reel"

"Down a hollow to a cavern where the sun has never shone Like a door that keeps revolving in a half forgotten dream"

"Pictures hanging in a hallway and the fragment of a song Half remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?"

I'm making an executive decision and saying Rainhaze!

"its one v. one and heres the thing you may be better in a fight but I’ve got more to lose tonight"

"hit me where it hurts, the bruising will be worth the freedom I have earned from letting everything burn"

This is probably my favorite Hozier song, I just think it's so pretty. It's definitely super fitting, and sad, for Corm and Pinepaw.

"I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you"

"So I will not ask you Why you were creeping In some sad way I already know"

Ugh, heartbreaking. But a good call. Silent Hill music is so interesting to me.

"Really don't deserve it But now, there's nothing you can do So sleep in your only memory Of me, my dearest mother"

"Here's a lullaby to close your eyes, goodbye It was always you that I despised I don't feel enough for you to cry, oh well"

Yeah <3

"Am I allowed to look at him like that? Could it be wrong, when he's just so nice to look at?"

"No, I'd never say a word, and oh, it aches, but it feels oddly good to hurt"

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Haunted

Warnings: explicit porn!!!

I'm not putting content labels on it anymore cause it kills my visibility, so consider yourselves warned.

I told y'all @sasukimimochi gave me brain worms with their gift and I wasn't joking.

This is like a part two to their very fun and sexy ficlet, so go read it too!

Enjoy and drink water!

Lan Xichen has never had trouble sleeping - the 9pm bedtime instilled into his circadian rhythm ever since was a child, his body growing tired whether he willed it to or not. His sleep was rarely troubled, and he woke up rested the next morning at 5 am.

Tonight, his body is betraying him, and Xichen doesn’t know how to deal with it.

(Well, he does know, but he is not doing that. He is above such things, he can control his body and his urges. He’s a powerful cultivator, he’s a sect leader for heaven’s sake, he cannot let such base needs cloud his judgment!)

He’s tried everything he could think of to get himself to sleep - lavender tea, calming melodies, even a walk outside!

It’s 3 am by now. He has to be awake in 2 hours and he’s barely slept a full one.

He wonders whatever could be haunting his subconscious so badly that he can’t fall asleep enough to even nap - and no, it’s not that person, quiet! It must be… the… stress of his position. Yeah, that’s definitely the cause of his restlessness right now, he needs to take a vacation somewhere soon…

(A vacation, huh? A vacation… somewhere isolated… and with-)

Xichen groans, frustrated, turning in his bed for the seemingly millionth time. Why is his mattress so uncomfortable? And his pillows are horrible too, it feels like he’s laying his head on a rock! No wonder he can’t sleep, the conditions here are abysmal!

(Yes, they’re the same conditions as always but that’s not important right now.)

He’s so tired, he really is, but he’s just laying in bed staring at his ceiling, frustration mounting. He has meetings tomorrow - technically, today, ugh! - and he needs to be well rested! He needs to sleep even if it’s just a little bit!

Is there really no way for him to get some shut-eye tonight?!

Well, there is one way left. Xichen sighs, defeated - might as well, right? It’s for a good cause, if he shows up in front of the elder council tired this morning, he’s going to end up calling them cunts to their faces - not that they’re not, but uncle’s had enough qi deviations after hearing Wangji and Wei Wuxian go at it all over the Cloud Recesses lately and Xichen doesn’t want to put their uncle in the ground yet.

(To be fair, Xichen’s a bit envious of his little brother, though he knows Wangji and his husband deserve the happiness and respite. Is it so wrong for him to wish he had someone too? Someone to share his life and his heart and his bed with?

Someone to get risky around the Cloud Recesses with? Someone to warm his… lap while he works, someone to wait for him late at night wearing nothing but a smile and-)

This feels incredibly unsatisfying, Xichen thinks to himself as he tries to work himself to completion. He’s not even fully hard, and the drag of his hand feels unpleasantly rough against his hand. He should’ve had the foresight to use some oil - but he’s in that annoying stage of insomnia where he’s not asleep, but moving seems nearly impossible, and his night stand is way too far out of his reach right now.

He feels pathetic and ridiculous at the same time - such a simple act and yet he doesn’t even enjoy it. He’s not even really into it, just leisurely trying to get himself off so he, hopefully, gets sleepy after. But even the thought of that feels tedious - how is he going to handle the mess after?

It’s always so, so messy… in fact, that’s one of the main reasons why he doesn’t do it often. It’s incredibly embarrassing to clean up and way too troublesome for just a few seconds of bliss.

Or maybe he’s just bad at it and doesn’t see the appeal.

He wants to laugh almost - he must make quite the picture, forlornly staring at nothing in particular, dick in hand, no progress on either of his two objectives - sleep and orgasm. At this point, he’s just going to probably find morning like this, and the image does make him giggle a bit.

What a way to watch the sunrise, right?

His back protests against his mattress - he really needs to have a softer one brought in - so he rolls over on his right side, and his eyes suddenly go wide with arousal, realization and shame all the same. The softness of his blankets and the pillows he’s haphazardly thrown around the bed have rubbed against his cock in just the right way to send his mind reeling with sensation.

And an idea.

He feels… dirty even thinking it. Pornographic, debauched, unbecoming - but despite that, he quickly - excitedly - makes a nice little mound of pillows for himself, stacking them on top of one another enough so he can grasp at them and then-

“A-ah!”

The sound escapes him before he even feels it form on his tongue, and he slaps a hand over his mouth as if to cover it. But it already echoed through the empty hanshi and Xichen irrationally worries people heard it - even if, at such an hour, everybody is dead asleep.

He lets go of his mouth, resolute to keep quiet now. He can do that, he’s not such a horny animal with no control over his reactions. He’s going to be quiet and finish quickly and then go to bed.

Heavens, why are his pillows the exact firmness of-

Xichen’s eyes flutter closed and another moan tumbles out of his lips, helpless against the feeling and the vague fantasy coming to life behind his eyelids. His hips cant slowly against the pillows, and the touch is pleasantly rough now, much better than his hand, the bite of it sending shivers down Xichen’s spine like lust-coated needles.

Still, he does reason with himself, in between thrusts, that he really needs to keep quiet. His window is open after all - and if there’s anyone suffering from insomnia like he is and they’ve decided to take a walk to clear their head, they could walk by and hear-

Another moan escapes him. Fuck, what if - what if that person was here right now on some business, who cares, and they - No - no - don’t -

Xichen heaves a breath that nearly hurts - holding himself upright by his forearms. No, he can’t think of them, it’s not -

His body betrays him, though, because his mind’s weaving a perfect fantasy of them underneath him instead of the pillows, arched perfectly off the bed, head turned to a side to look at him, cheeks flushed, glistening with tears, and eyes distant as he-

The bed creaks, loudly, and the sound both breaks and makes the fantasy. Maybe he’d fuck them so hard they’d break the bed and he’ll have a valid reason to replace it. Maybe he’d get to break every piece of furniture in the hanshi like that, refurnish the whole fucking thing after as a cute couple activity-

His hair falls, wild and unbound, over his body, sticking to the thin layer of sweat covering his skin. He almost feels the phantom grasp of their nails all over his back, the desperate grip on his forearms, the loud moans and the begs and-

Xichen stops on the brink of orgasm, gasping for breath to the point of hyperventilation. He doesn’t want this to end yet - and he’ll think of the irony of that later - but the way arousal simmers underneath his skin is intoxicating, his imagination supplying the lack of a partner so well he should probably wonder if he’s hallucinating.

He wants - what doesn’t he want? His hips pick up speed again, this time in a slow, forceful rhythm, and he smiles to himself at the way the bed’s begun protesting again. He feels his muscles flex with the movement, and his brows furrow at the aftershocks of pleasure that follow every thrust - this shouldn’t feel as good as it does. He shouldn’t be enjoying it the way he is right now.

But he’s somewhere between reality and fantasy right now, and it’s a heavenly place to be. He hears a voice he likes ask him for more, harder, faster, and he doesn’t deliver because he’s feeling mean.

He likes to be mean, he wishes he could be mean more often.

The feeling of his hair all over his back annoys him, so he’s quick to gather it all to a side, supporting himself only with an arm and - he gets it. It is pretty hot to be able to do that. And, what the hell, he is pretty hot in general.

There’s a rule somewhere about arrogance. Not that Xichen cares about it right now, but he notes it exists.

It’s fun to break it. He should be more arrogant too.

He moans again, pathetically pretending to bite his lip to stop it as his fantasy shows him something else, something new - and he’s decided he’s had enough of teasing himself and whoever he’s dreaming he’s fucking right now.

It is late after all, and he did start this with a purpose - to fall asleep.

It’s not that much physical effort, not for the strength and stamina Xichen has built up, but he figures this is different from the training he’s done. Still, he hopes he’s really as good at this as he thinks he is - perhaps he’ll get to test it out for real soon.

The thought brings him back into the moment. The images in his mind are more diffuse now, but he can’t be bothered with that now. There’s a rush everywhere in his body, his heart pounding relentlessly in his ears and puffs of quick breaths leaving his lips with every quick, mindless movement.

He feels everything start to tense up, his body gearing up for something that it’s felt before but not - not to this intensity, not to this level -

And he nearly collapses on his wet, messy pillows as he comes, a name spilling out of his lips as his body relaxes into the rush of his release. It pulses inside him seemingly forever, endless, and he wonders if he could kill himself by coming too hard. It does feel like he’s dying, for a fraction - air seems to be insufficient and his vision is unfocused, heart hammering against his ribcage - but it passes, ebbing into a soft, pliant warmth.

Xichen knows he has to clean up now. He can’t sleep in his mess.

But he doesn’t want this feeling to go away, not as his eyelids are finally growing heavy and he’s yet to feel the emptiness of having nobody to share the afterglow with.

So, he picks up the only unsullied pillow left and the topmost layer of his blankets and with the elegance of a particularly heavy slab of stone, he rolls himself onto the floor and decides to sleep there.

Not much different from his bed anyway.

—

The elder council sends unkind glares towards their sect leader as he casually struts into the meeting hall two hours late.

“Apologies,” he starts, not at all feeling sorry. “Last night has been… particularly haunting for me. Let us proceed?”

[calacuspr]

Bellingham wants to be a role model off the pitch as well as on it

It’s already been an amazing year for Jude Bellingham.

Soon after his Borussia Dortmund side lost the Bundesliga title to rivals Bayern Munich on the last day of the 2022-23 season, he joined Spanish giants Real Madrid.

Since then, he has helped Los Blancos to win La Liga and the Champions League and been named La Liga Player of the Year for a season where he scored 19 goals in 28 games, from midfield.

In the second El Clasico of the season at the newly refurbished Bernabeu, the Englishmen wrote his name in Madrid folklore by scoring a late winner to put Madrid 11 points clear in La Liga and ultimately seal their title win.

So it was no surprise when, a day later, Bellingham won the prestigious Laureus World Breakthrough of the Year Award, which was presented to him at the Palacio de Cibeles.

“I’m delighted,” said Bellingham. “Simply being here was already an honour. Being named Laureus Breakthrough is a privilege and I have to thank many people, my family, friends and above all the people at Real Madrid who have helped me this year.

“Being here is a privilege, alongside incredible athletes. I hope I can learn something from them tonight before I go home.

“It’s been a good week for the club and on a personal level. When the team wins, I’m always happy. I feel a bit tired after the Clásico and the 120 minutes in Manchester and this award gives me a bit more energy.

“This club is special. Signing for Real Madrid is the best thing that has ever happened to me. It’s the highlight of 2023. I’m grateful to be able to play here every day and to be surrounded by very special people.“

Unsurprisingly, Bellingham understands that with his profile and meteoric rise, he is seen as a role model and an inspiration to others.

Speaking at the Laureus World Sports Awards evening he added: “I got into football because I love it and there is a responsibility that comes with that, the impact that you can have on kids.

"It's important that I try to be a good role model. I'm not perfect but I want to have a lasting impact on youth growing up.

"It's important as athletes that as we become more popular we end up having a platform and we understand our responsibility for the next generation

"I want to help people along the way and give people the opportunity to get to get to where I have got to, because other people have given me that chance.”

Unsurprisingly, Bellingham started doing charity work soon after he made his debit for Birmingham, at just 16, supporting The Mustard Seed Project which provides food, education and health care to deprived children in Kenya.

He still supports that initiative today, but said at the time: ”It’s something I’m really passionate about. Some friends of the family have set up a charity that helps students in Kenya. It’s not a very wealthy country and a lot of people go into a school without good facilities.

“It’s important to me to help that kind of community when I can. I want to be remembered, not just for football but for my actions off the pitch. The only way I can do that is by carrying on doing what I’ve started to set in motion.

The ultimate aim is to make as much positive impact as I can,” he added. “The project currently is to build as many classrooms as possible and I think as I grow, the charity will grow as well.

“The more attention I get from doing good things on the pitch, hopefully that will crossover to the charity, so it’s definitely at the back of my mind as a driving factor for me to keep working hard and performing well so that the charity can benefit too.

“We recently sent some kit out for the football team. I saw a picture and it gave me a great feeling seeing how happy they were and knowing how much it will help them going forward.

“From an off the pitch point of view, it’s one of the best things I think I can do, so I’m just really excited to continue with that work.”

Regular Calacus readers will know that we firmly believe that sport has the power to change the world, as Nelson Mandela said at the inaugral Laureus World Sports Awards in 2000.

High profile athletes also have a responsibility to use their platform positively and it’s a credit to Bellingham that he recognised from an early age that, with his profile, he can make a huge difference to disadvantaged communities.

[cozza-frenzy]

Not too much going on tonight; had a picnic at the park, shoutout to Bitter and Caddy for absolutely knocking it out, my headmates work HARD when I'm on a much-needed front break. They made THREE kinds of sandwiches, THREE different sides. Heard someone playing "VOID" on an outdoor piano and now I'm having Feelings about MONTERO again and feelings about those feelings. What an album. The composition, the heartfelt lyrics. "Lately I been feelin' small as the salt in the sea" is such poetry. And when the "See, I'm gettin' tired of the way I been livin' / I'd rather die than to live with these feelings" hits in VOID, just, god, I haven't felt a line cut so deep in my SOUL since the "I don't wanna die / I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all" from Bohemian fucking Rhapsody. Different songs seem to resonate with different alters, but VOID is mine. "I find it hard to get / way too hard to live" Life is hard for me. It's hard for us. We've had to cobble together some semblance of existence from a psyche that cracked and shattered and healed wrong long before we even knew what the word meant. We're only incredibly lucky that our body's needs are taken care of, that we have friends and we've found our own family; that we've survived long enough that we're finally able to find everyone. Get back what we were missing. Reach back into the past and find what's been hurting us this whole time. The inside of our head was so noisy, chaotic and painful that I don't know how we managed to hang on as long as we did. Our mood seemed to turn on a dime. We'd do things or react in certain ways and then immediately forget why we did them, or lose the feelings associated with them. Old friends simply ceased to exist then would suddenly pop back into our awareness. It was a constant barrage of noise, constantly being blindsided by intrusive thoughts and half-remembered things. Emotional flashbacks would hold our throat in their teeth and then disappear back into the constantly shifting nightmare just before they bit down, with no trace they were ever there. And that was just what life was for us. We didn't know it could ever be anything else. I wish we'd known sooner, why we were like this. And it's hard sometimes, to think we'll ever truly know peace, but it has to be out there somewhere. Uncovering old splits and missing parts has to stop at some point. There has to be something to us other than layers and layers of pain, or else we wouldn't still be here trying to fix it. New old alters wouldn't be coming out if they didn't have any hope of recovery. We wouldn't be here to love and support each other if there was no point to this. We've uncovered three new alters in two weeks and now I'm crying over Lil Nas X lyrics. It wasn't how I pictured my 30s being, but we ball. - Terry

[jungkookschin]

desirable

from the i can and i will drabble series

enchanting romance blooms between you and jeon jungkook. he wants you so bad, finds you so desirable. so, he does everything in his power to gain approval from his members and the company just so he can be with you for at least a little bit.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: none! making out? fluff, struggles of being an idol:( jk just wants to be a normal teen

this is the jk im imagining so keep that in mind!!

Your usually timid and shy nature is what draws Jungkook to you. It's what makes him want to know you more.

So yea, he obviously does some digging. Jungkook’s a pretty good stalker. Of course, he does all his stalking from his burner account with zero followers. Though there’s no definitive proof that he stalks because he makes sure to never like or even watch anyone’s story, he’s a pro at it. It’s what he does during the dreadfully long rides from the dorms to music shows, or on the plane rides when he has to perform concerts in foreign countries.

Anybody can imagine his dismay once he finds your Instagram account. He thinks his jaw probably drops to the ground when he sees how.. promiscuously you portray yourself. There’s a plethora of bikini pictures, and  tiny dresses with you posed in such a provocative manner. You’re usually so shy, so timid, and just so out of reach that he can’t believe that you have this side to yourself. And of course, he knows that the types of clothes don't reflect on your personality, he is intrigued.

He would have never expected that you have a heart shaped belly button ring with a pink fairy tattoo adjacent to it. He would have never expected you to even own a piece of promiscuous clothing- just from how conservative (?) you seemed to be.

It’s not like he doesn’t like it. He does. Jungkook’s a man too, even though many seem to think that idols aren’t like normal people, he definitely likes what he sees. He’s looking- respectfully of course. 

He scrolls down and sees a selfie of you that makes him want to jump off a building. Your lips are glossed up, in a cute duck shaped pout. You’re winking at the camera, your arms extended to showcase your face, neck, and collarbones. You look different with a full face of makeup. Of course, you look fierce and incredibly sexy, but Jungkook can’t help but thinking of office you.

The you who sits in her desk in the BigHit office with a hoodie and sweatpants. Dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep. He knows you’ve been trying to land them an appearance on Weekly Idol, and that you’ve been spending countless nights trying to do so because you’re invested in the success of BTS.

You’re invested in his success.

So, he gets up from the practice room and makes his way to the office, where he sees that you are there once again, and so late at night.

Jungkook’s the one who pushes himself as far as he can in the practice room, ensuring that every dance move is precise and on point. He’ll lose sleep to make sure that everything is perfect, because he that’s the type of person he is. 

You’re like a mini him, pushing yourself as far as you can because you’re passionate about your work, passionate about your job. 

“It’s 1AM,” he playfully remarks, leaning against the wall behind you. In your wheely chair, you flinch at his sudden appearance. 

You turn around and face him, sighing. “I know, it’s pretty late. They put me on hold for the millionth time tonight. I know how badly you guys wanna go on this show, so we’re doing everything we can.”

You offer him a tired smile, which ends up plaguing him with guilt. He crouches down in front of you, giving you a stern look. “You know that it’s your job to take care of yourself too?” He raises a brow at you. Over the past few months, he’s thrown away his shy personality, developing the confidence to address you so directly. ”Can’t have a tired intern around here messing everything up,” he playfully adds.

You crack a laugh. “And what about you? Can’t have a tired idol around. I know a certain someone stays here every night until four AM. I think he pushes himself a little too hard.”

Jungkook’s still crouching in front of your wheely chair, facial expression brightening up at your banter. “You know I’m not as good as my hyungs, I gotta practice more.” He juts out his bottom lip, pouting at you in a way that makes you giggle.

“You don’t actually think that, do you? I collected a survey today, and the fans think that you’re the second best at dancing.”

Jungkook sighs but all you're thinking about is how he’s maintaining his balance crouching in front of you like this. He isn’t even holding on to anything to keep himself still. It’s probably his massive quads.

His words snap you out of your little trance. “In terms of talent I’m no where near Hobi at dancing, or Jin at singing. I don’t even know how to produce a song like Namjoon. I just wanna be helpful to the group,” He’s rambling, staring at his feet until he looks up at you.” you know?”

You feel the atmosphere turn suddenly serious. He’s staring at you with that look in his eye. He's always looking at you with that look : the one that makes other staff question if there’s something between the two of you. You pause. You have no clue as to how to reply to him because no matter how much anybody praises him, he’ll still be hard on himself. 

So, you offer him the only thing you feel like you can. It’s quite reckless of you, really. No, not quite reckless: it’s super reckless, super irresponsible. Now, this is the point of no return. This is the point where you throw away your inhibitions, fears, and insecurities, and act on your personal feelings.

You gently grasp his chin, bringing his face up to yours, before you gently kiss his bottom lip. "You’ll never realize how important you are,” you gently murmur. Jungkook doesn’t have time to process what just happened, just moves based on his physical urges. He cups your face with both of his hands, before getting a good look at you. Your lips are glossed with his saliva, cheeks red, and eyelashes fluttering. You’re looking at him with such an innocent expression that he wants nothing more than to wreck you and mess you up. He brings his lips to yours, his kissing your upper lip while yours kiss his bottom lip. Things heat up, gets more intense, and the two of you are licking into each other’s mouths, enjoying the pure ecstasy of intimacy. Eventually, Jungkook stands up, and picks you up from your armpits. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he mumbles against your lips, and you oblige with no hesitation. 

He carries you into the practice room, shutting the lights off where the two of you remain until 4 in the morning.

Despite what the average person may think, nothing raunchy or salacious occurs. Just some making out, some cuddling. You lay in his arms, head resting against his armpit. He plays with your fingertips, occasionally bringing your fingers up to his lips to press soft kisses onto your knuckles. That night, he asks you every single question he’s been wondering about you, and you answer every little inquiry.

He remembers how sweet your laugh echoes throughout the room. “You’re asking me that? What an oddly specific question.” He was asking you something about the sticker that he's seen on your laptop: where you got it from and what it meant.

Eventually, you fall asleep in his arms, and he does nothing but hold you. He feels like he’s on Cloud 9. The girl he’s been pining over for such a long time in his arms? Nothing could be better. 

And the next day, when he thinks things are going perfect, things just don't go as he expects.

You're going every length to avoid eye contact with him, not even sparing him a glance. You look tired, despite how you were peacefully snoring in his arms the previous day. You look anxious, on edge, and the strands of your hair practically falling out of your ponytail

You’re profusely sweating, eyebrows furrowed in worry. Just looking at you, he feels like he's as worried as you.

He eyes you, trying to catch your attention, but you’re so intensely looking right at the ground. Out of nowhere, you stand up and quickly exit the room, and Jungkook follows you by instinct, ignoring the questionable glances from his members and the rest of the staff. 

When he sees you pacing in the hallway, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into the janitorial closet.

He immediately pulls you into his embrace, rubbing your arm to soothe your nerves. “What’s wrong?” Sweetness is just laced in his voice, and you know he’s genuine, and you know he cares about you. You can sense that he's been wistfully eyeing you the whole day.

You waste no time, and you get straight to the point. “I’m quitting my job,” is all you say, which takes Jungkook aback.

He pauses, then takes a deep breath before speaking. “Okay. It’s your choice. But may I ask why?” It’s dark so you can’t tell how he looks but he’s probably got that same worried look on his face.

“Jungkook,” you sigh, panic laced in  your voice. “I’m sorry about yesterday. It was a mistake. It was wrong for me to take advantage of you like that, and I’m sincerely, sincerely sorry-”

“What are you talking about?” He’s not mad or upset, but he’s confused. “Mistake? Take advantage of me? I’m confused,” he reaches out to grab your hand, and he holds it with both of his hands. Now he's gently massaging your wrists, and you yank your hand away from him.

“If anybody finds out about that, I’m getting fired. I-I can even get blacklisted from the industry because I violated the terms of my contract,” you’re panicking at this point, and Jungkook feels so so guilty. So guilty because he wasn’t even thinking about that, he just wanted to be with you. He doesn’t want you to lose your job, and if you did he wouldn't know what to do.

“I-I think I should just quit. Before anything can happen. Do you think the cameras were on yesterday?”

And you just keep on rambling, and Jungkook’s heart clenches becaus he feels so guilty. He doesn’t even know what you’re saying until he cuts you off. “Look, I’ll take the blame for everything.”

“Jungkook, I clearly made the first move. It’s my fault. I’m so sorry. The last thing I want is for you to get in trouble so-”

“Yea you made the first move, but I’m the one whose been wanting this for months. I’m the one whose been wanting you, and I still do. I care about you, so I’m not gonna let you take the blame for this. I’ll make it work. Please? Just give me time. Give me one week to sort this out, and then I’ll call you.”

And he does make it work. Being in a relationship with him for four whole years, you know that he always makes things work. After this, Jungkook exits the closet and goes on with his day as if nothing happened. You don’t turn in your resignation, and let Jungkook do what he wants to do, because right now you in a paralysis of choice and are scared of any consequences you may receive.

That night, Jungkook gathers his members for a meeting while the manager is sleeping, and tells them what happened. The members were already suspecting that Jungkook liked you, but were more shocked to hear that you actually reciprocated his feelings. The members are empathetic, very. Because they understand how the idol industry works, and how many essential coming of age moments he’s missed out on. They feel for him because Jungkook is nineteen and has never had an official girlfriend. He’s never had a girl he’s liked so intensely, and the members empathize with that. After all, Jungkook grew up in the spotlight and has missed every opportunity to live like a normal teenager.

At the same time, they understand the idol industry and know that Jungkook is playing a dangerous, dangerous game. 

Thus, they compromise. Namjoon tells Jungkook that he will communicate with the company under the pretext that Jungkook initiated all the physical intimacy, and that you don’t feel the same way, just to save your career. Jungkook crumbles at this. He doesn't want things to go down this way because this means that he won’t get to see you anymore, that you won’t be working with him anymore.

Namjoon promises him that he can contact you after their dating ban is over, but the agonizing thought of getting a taste of you then letting you go hurts him so bad.

He knows it’s for the best, so he begrudgingly obliges.

Once the company hears this, you’re let go immediately, and Jungkook does end up taking all the blame. The company profusely apologizes to you, telling you that it was the inappropriate actions of their artist that lead to your removal from the company. You’re going to be paid for the next two months, or at least until you find another job.

And that was a really fucking good deal: not working and still getting paid. You’re tempted to take the offer, but your heart aches when you think of just leaving everything behind, leaving Jungkook behind.

Your boss is explaining to you that Jungkook likes you, and apologizes that he had made a move on you during that one night in the office. It would be easy for everything to end like this, and for you to take the money, but you really really really don’t want things to end like this.

So before she leaves the room, you tell your that you feel the same way about Jungkook.

It complicates things, but shit works out.

With BTS’s skyrocketing popularity, the company accepts your relationship with Jungkook, just to keep the artist happy. You’re allowed to see Jungkook under the pretext that you guys are not allowed to refer to yourself as a real couple, and that you may only meet when the company sets up appointments for the both of you. In fact, the managers say that it’s better that the truth was revealed, so the company can take preventative measures from things getting out of control. And it really fucking sucks: that you can only see him when the company allows. You feel like a little kid again, being put under such strict surveillance from your parents. But, you’re happy that you get to see him every once in a while.

Later, Jungkook pulls you into the practice room and tells you that he’s sorry that you guys can only be together like this.

“I’m really fucking sorry that you have to put up with this,” he says bringing up his hand to rub at his nape. And your mind is distracted because you think that he looks really fucking good. He’s got a white hoodie on, Nike speakers, and blue plaid pajama pants.

You wrap your arms around him and squeeze him. You look up at him and say “It’s okay Jungkook. It’s enough that we’re allowed to see each other every once in a while.”

“I know, but I just wish we had more freedom,” he mimics your actions wrapping his armsyour upper back and rubbing it soothingly, like he always does. “Thank you for putting up with this, truly.”

And he’s grabbing the side of your face, looking at you with such adoration. 

“Of course,” is all you say in your typical sultry voice before he gently brings his lips to yours.

[lune-hime]

I just love your writing and have been reading a lot of your stuff these past few days. I really enjoyed how you wrote Logan Howletts character, you did an amazing job. I think of those two stories you wrote as connected, and seeing that your requests are open, could you write possibly how they meet or moments in their relationship? Whatever comes to mind.

Hope your well and enjoy writing this if you decide to take it. ❤️

It makes me so incredibly happy that you have been loving my stories and my portrayal of Logan :’). Logan and reader’s first meeting had been previously requested so I went with a few moments in their relationship. Thank you for being patient with me in posting this, I hope you enjoy and that you are doing well <3. 

↞↠↞↠↞↠

A Second-First Meeting

“You’re Logan.” Storm let out a melodic chuckle, her realization breaking the silence within the jet.

“Uh...yeah.” He said with a quirked brow. The ivory haired woman’s jaw went slack and another giddy laugh erupted from her. Logan's eyes darted from the oddly acting woman to Rogue who only shrugged, looking just as confused as he was.

“Logan from Canada.” She stated in semi-awe, looking him up and down as if comparing him to information she already had. It made Logan feel like he was missing something.

“He looks dirtier than she described.” Scott let out a snarky huff from the pilot’s seat.

“Okay, what is this?” Logan rose his voice to just below a growl, irritation evident in his tone. Storm put her hands up in harmless defense.

“You met Y/N in the summer. Saved her from becoming a prune all alone in the woods, remember?” Storm said and beamed brightly. Logan’s eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. The bears, the beautiful girl, the thunderous storm and her lightening energy.

“You know Y/N?” He said in disbelief.

“Know her? She’s my best friend.” Storm giggled. “She told us all about you; how she fended off that bear but didn’t have to fend you off when you guys huddled up in your car.”

Storm winked at him as he narrowed his eyes at her teasing. Rogue let out a little giggle of her own at Logan’s speechlessness.

“We’re landing.” Scott announced as everyone began feeling their smooth decrease in altitude.

“All jokes aside, thanks for looking out for her.” Storm added with a kind smile before she swiveled in her copilot’s seat to help Scott with their descent.

⇷⛒⇸

“Hey, kid, is Y/N here?” Logan asked the child in front of him. He found himself on the precipice of a new life it seems, but more literally on the precipice of the lounge area in Xavier's Mansion. He was exhausted after an abrupt and confusing flight from his little slice of Alberta to New York. His head was spinning from all of the information about Mutant Brotherhoods and Striker that was just laid upon him. And now the remembrance of the girl caught in the rain who had once told him she lived at this very school.  

“Ms. Y/N? Yeah she lives here.” The child said nonchalantly. Each time he blinked, a new channel would appear on the almost theatre sized TV. “She sometimes teaches my kinetics training.”

Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Relief washed over him that he would have at least one familiar face here.

“Where can I find her?” He asked the boy who still hadn’t taken his gaze away from the television. He briefly paused on the Disney channel before continuing his search.

“Why would I know? I’ve been watching TV all morning.” The kid huffed as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. Logan grumbled and sauntered out of the room and back into the many mahogany halls of the massive building.

As he neared the large eastern courtyard, he caught a glimpse of just the woman he was looking for. Through the immaculately planted dormant shrubs he observed you standing next to an ornate fountain chatting with a girl who looked to be around middle school age. He felt that same energizing hum in his chest as he did a few months ago when he took in your appearance. The way you smiled so sweetly at the student, the way your hair was gently pulled from your face by the brisk winter wind, in how your legs bobbed back and forth in place as they fended off the early afternoon chill. He waited for you to finish your conversation with the child before he made his presence known.

“Y/N?” He called tentatively as he eased his way between the garden boughs. You looked up towards the direction of your summon. When you saw who it was, your eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Logan!” You chirped and jogged over to him. “How was the flight?”

“You knew I was coming?” He asked, surprised at the lack of surprise in your reaction.

“I did.” You answered with a guilty smile. “I’m a part of the team now too so I was there when Charles made the call to find you.”

Logan’s mind tried to connect the dots between the sweet yet snappy, soaked girl he met before to the cleaned up, self assured one standing before him. He pictured you using your abilities to fight opponents rather than bears and guessed you would be goddamned good at it with sparks like yours.

“I’m really glad he did…” You trailed off with the beginnings of a goofy grin. “That he found you and brought you here of course, not that you’re being targeted by the Brotherhood-”

“It’s good to see you again.” He confessed, his honeyed voice coating your rambling and effectively adding to the chilly redness of your cheeks.

“You too.” You replied softly, trying not to ogle at his casual attire of heather gray sweatshirt and joggers.

“I think you owe me, though. I gave you a free ride back then.” He declared with a smirk.

“Fine, do you need a ride to the nearest tractor supply for a new wardrobe?” You quipped back. Logan let his half smile bloom into a full crescent moon.

“Sure, if I can take you out for a drink after.” He proposed with a look that made you feel like the New England snow had suddenly melted around you and you were now in a humid jungle.

“Well, I did have another date tonight…” You began, looking up at the taller man through your lashes. If you hadn’t already been looking at him, you wouldn’t have noticed the minute clench of his jaw.

“Buuuut, I don’t think he would be able to handle being accidentally zapped as well as you would.” You continued playfully. Your suitor paled in any comparison to the old acquaintance that had just arrived at your doorstep. The amusement in your eyes was contagious, spreading to Logan’s forested green orbs and down to his boyish grin.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

Firelight

You hummed in utter bliss. The warmth of the campfire kissed your bare legs as your tired eyes gazed upon the moon basked lake in front of you. You nuzzled deeper into the crook of Logan’s neck as the crickets and the treefrogs serenaded you with a private summer evening concert.

Logan’s hand lazily ran the expanse of your hip and thigh from your position curled across him in the camping chair. He was about to close his eyes in complete relaxation when a boisterous banging erupted from one of the cabins in your section of the campground. The clanging was followed by a teenage chorus of muffled curses and cackles. The two of you had volunteered to be counselors of sorts on this weeklong camping trip Charles held for his beloved students each summer.  Logan groaned at the disturbance, slightly annoyed with your rowdy group of students.

“They’re just having fun. As long as no one comes out on fire or with a leg missing it's fine.” You spoke up, tone laced with amusement. “Admit you love them-and spending quality time with them out here.” 

You felt Logan huff against you at your wholesome accusation. 

“I love being out here in the woods, with you.” 

Logan’s answer wasn’t to your satisfaction. You zapped him gently with a single crackle of your energy just beneath the rib cage.  When he jolted from the surprise attack, you folded yourself to him so that you were now straddling his lap. 

“Sure. Not like I saw you earlier spending an hour teaching Rogue how to fish properly after she got her line all strung up in the nearest tree. Or how you, willingly I might add, played hide and seek with the younger ones when you were supposed to be taking a break. Or when-” 

You rambled off his sweet acts in adoration until he leaned up to press his lips to yours. You sunk into his embrace and sighed at the euphoric feeling. 

“Alright, alright. You’ve proved your point.” He grumbled half heartedly. In the fading natural light, you could see the lazy smile that adorned his face had become dusted with your lip gloss. You returned his response with a triumphant grin as he gingerly grasped the back of your head and pulled you to him once more. His heated palms sailed over your curves like a forest fire as your kisses deepened. You let out a small moan when he discretely bucked his hips into yours. 

Or, what the two of you had thought was discrete. 

“Gross. I’m just trying to get to the bathroom.” Bobby complained with a grimace as he walked by the two of you towards the community restrooms. You let out a chuckle as Logan brought his fist up to Bobby’s line of vision, a single adamantium claw extending to flip the younger man off against the firelight. 

[helliontherapscallion]

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Thursday (Part 2)

Monday     Tuesday     Wednesday     Thursday (Part 1)     Friday     Saturday     Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: panic attacks, swearing, puking, concussions, mentions of injuries/bullying, homophobia

Word count: 5,138

After school, you were sitting on the couch as you furiously typed on your keyboard at an extremely fast pace. You were on a roll with these essays, they were probably going to be finished by the time you had to go back to the school to get on the bus with the team. You figured that you could even finish Annie’s essay and get started on Sammy’s US history presentation on the sociopolitical climate of the United States in the mid twentieth century to today. However, instead of covering a variety of topics like the rubric requested you to do, you were only going to talk about the significant events that happened to the LGBT+ community starting with Stonewall and going to Obergefell v. Hodges. You were also going to go in depth about how even if there are more opportunities available and more laws set in place to protect for LGBT+ people in the present then there were in past, members of the LGBT+ community still suffer heavy discrimination in the workplace and in the public. With receipts of course, the assignment required a minimum of three pictures per slide, and the group chat was a perfect source.

After that was done, you would email Sammy’s teacher (you had her last year for US history and you knew that she had a son in the grade below you currently transitioning from female to male) that you were the one that did her project and send screenshots of Sammy calling you slurs. Luckily for you, you had receipts of her being transphobic in the past that you could also send. Everything was effortlessly falling into place for you today. 

As you were typing, the front door swung open and two overly excited fifth graders ran into the house and up the stairs. A tired Schlatt followed them. “I will never know how the hell Phil keeps up with them.” 

“I dunno, maybe because he’s already raised three kids before.”

You watched as your uncle jumped and whipped his head over towards you, his hand clutching his chest. He lightly glared at you, “christ kid don’t do that, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”

You smirked at him before turning back to your laptop to continue typing the essay. You were almost done with the conclusion paragraph on Annie’s essay and you wanted to get to Sammy’s presentation as fast as possible. As you were typing, you felt a warm air fan across your neck and your uncle’s voice right next to your ear, “whatcha typin?”

You lept off the couch and almost fell into the coffee table before steadying yourself and deadpanning at Schlatt. “I was typing an essay before you interrupted me.”

He snorted, “it looked like you were on a roll, just thought I’d see what my beloved niece was writing. Can I read it?” 

Your eyes lit up as an excited grin split your cheeks, “yeah, but lemme catch you up real quick. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie got mad at me a few days ago and wanted me to do some homework for them as a sort of payment. But after they pulled that little stunt in the lunchroom yesterday, they decided to be little bitches to me and call me slurs. So naturally, I decided to change the essay prompt into an in depth analysis about discrimination LGBT people face from their peers on the daily. My english teacher’s really against homophobia and the project’s worth twenty five percent of our overall grade, so it’s perfect.”

While you were rambling on and on about your detailed plot for revenge, Schlatt couldn’t help but be proud of the person you’d become. A major part of him was impressed that you came up with a detailed plan so quickly, that meant that his cunning nature was rubbing off on you and that made him ecstatic. Sure you mentioning not being straight was new to him, but he was prepared to accept you for whatever you identified as. He didn’t care how people identified, he just cared if they were good people. And his niece was one of the best kids he knew. He’d let your slip up slide for now until you felt comfortable enough to properly come out to him. 

“That an amazing plan, fuckin brilliant. Though, you could do more.”

That piqued your interest, “I’m listening.”

“Do you have any blackmail?”

Your eyes glinted with sudden understanding, “why yes I do, uncle dearest. I just so happen to have thousands of texts from them talking shit about each other and basically the entire school. And them being incredibly racist. They would be destroyed if that came out.” 

“Two things. One, never call me that again. Two, perfect. Keep it as leverage if they try to do something. You don’t pull out all the good cards in the first round, you wait for the right moment to strike so you can win. You need to constantly defend yourself against other players and anticipate their every move. If you leak everything right now, you won’t have anything to use against them if they have something up their sleeve you didn’t know about. Patience is key in things like this.”

You absorbed every single word that came out of his mouth like it was the holy gospel. Although he was your uncle and you loved him with all your heart, but he was a sly bastard when he wanted to be. He knew his way around fighting and manipulating people just right, so you were incredibly happy that you were on his good side and he absolutely adored you. Though questionable and morally gray, he was giving you advice because he cared about you and you’d be an idiot to not heed his advice. 

“That’s genius, Uncle Schlatt. What would I do without you?”

“You’d get along just fine without me, you would’ve gotten there eventually. You’re smart. I’m just givin you a little push in the right direction.”

“I honestly would’ve never thought about waiting, I was so dead set on getting revenge that I would’ve just leaked everything all at once. I want them to feel how I felt when they were around me. I-” you paused. Would this make you the same as them? You’d be screwing up all their grades, Adrian’s job, and Sammy’s athletic career. You came to the chilling realization that you’d be the same as them. You’d be as manipulative as they were. “...Uncle Schlatt, would that make me the same as them?”

“Fuck no! You’re always gonna be better than them no matter what. When they’re at their best, you’re always gonna be a whole lot better than them. They deserve what’s happening to them, it sounds like they put you through so much shit the past few years. I actually think you could do a whole lot worse to them if you’re willing to put more work in, but it’s your plan and if you think that what you’re doing is too much,” he darkly chuckled, “you wouldn’t like my idea.”

“You’re right, they deserve everything I have planned for them. God, I don’t know what I was thinking, ‘would that make me the same as them,’” you mocked what you said earlier, “what a load of shit. Anyways, thanks Uncle Schlatt. I’m gonna get back to writing this. They’re due tomorrow and I wanna finish as much as I can before I have to go.”

“Alright, whaddya want for dinner? Phil’s gonna be like thirty minutes late from work so I’m cookin tonight.”

Oh no. No, no, no, no. That man can barley cook boxed mac n cheese, let alone anything else. He’d burn down the house if you left him alone in the kitchen with the stove. “On second thought, why don’t I help you with dinner? We can make some chicken alfredo.”

“Awe, you’d rather hang out with me than finish your homework? Ya really do love me. C’mon let’s start.”

The process of making dinner was… interesting. Multiple times, Schlatt almost spilled boiling water on himself and he even managed to burn the pasta while it was in the water. How he even managed to do that you’d never find out, you had your back turned cutting up vegetables and herbs at the time. That was when you subtly started to take over in the kitchen, giving him smaller tasks while you handled everything else. You felt bad for Tubbo, his father can’t cook for shit. 

By time you finished, about an hour passed and Philza had come home and changed out of his work clothes. The two adults sat at the table discussing something that you didn’t pay attention to while your brothers and cousin were in the living room waiting for you to finish dinner. Finally, you set the table and it was time to eat. 

Because you couldn’t have many fatty foods before any matches or practices, you had made a separate plate for yourself that only had plain pasta, chicken, and broccoli. You were surprised with how well it turned out, you were following an iffy recipe you found on the first link Google brought up. 

After dinner, you went upstairs to put your uniform on and pack a little bag full of things you might need: a small blanket, some snacks, a water bottle, and a portable charger. Oh, and fuzzy socks and a pair of crocs. You could never go wrong with fuzzy socks and crocs. Feeling a vibration in your pocket, you pulled out your phone.

Hales : )

(Y/n), I’m omw to your house

Gonna give you a ride to the school

(Y/n)

Hales you don’t have to give me a ride, I can drive

Hales : )

Don’t care

Omw, be there in like 7 mins

You swiped out of yours and her conversation and opened up the family group chat

(Y/n)

I don’t need a ride to the school, Haley’s giving me one

She’s gonna give me a ride home too

Dadza

Alright, thank her for me

Tell her I said good luck too!

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

Dadza

(Y/n), do everything he wouldn’t do

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck you I’m a good influence

Dadza

You’re really not

Wilby

^^^^

Technology Sword

^

Uncle Schlatty Patty

Fuck all of you 

You heard Haley’s car pull into the driveway and dashed out of your room with your bag. Just as you put your hand on the doorknob, a hand stopped you.

“Coat.”

You grumbled as you reached past Philza to grab your coat. After you slipped it on, you were pulled into a hug. “You’re gonna do great out there. I know you’re gonna win this, we’ll be watching in the stands.”

“Damn right she’s gonna do good, she’s my niece after all.”

Schlatt pulled you away from your father’s hug and tried to ruffle your hair before you swatted away his hand, “don’t. You have no idea how long it took me to get a perfect ponytail. I have an ungodly amount of hairspray and bobby pins in my hair right now.”

“Fine. You’re gonna kick their asses tonight.”

Tommy and Tubbo pushed past Schlatt and both tackled you into a hug making you stumble slightly back. 

“Kick their asses good (y/n)!” Tommy cheered, making you crack up before one stern glance from Philza completely stopped you. “Tommy, don’t say that. (Y/n), not funny.”

“Alright, Haley’s waiting for me. I gotta go, love you guys!” As you turned to walk through the door, you could hear your family following you and shouting “good luck”. You felt heat creep up on your cheeks as Haley rolled down her window and wove at your family with the biggest grin on her face. 

“Thank you! We’re gonna take home the gold for sure!”

You hopped in her car as she rolled up the window and chuckled. “I love your family, they’re always so full of energy. It’s refreshing to see compared to how boring my family is.”

You glanced at your entire family gathered on the front porch. Tommy and Tubbo were practically vibrating with excitement, Wilbur and Techno calmly smiled and wove at you, Philza was grinning widely at you as you saw his mouth forming words that you couldn’t hear or read, and Schlatt was grinning cheekily at you. You raised your hand to wave at them as they vanished from view when Haley pulled out of your driveway. You smiled softly, “I love em too.”

The car ride was relatively quick with the same soft indie pop music floating from the speakers and an easy going conversation with Haley about the match tonight. You both thought that you could beat the other team if everyone focused 100% and played exactly like you guys did in practices. If everyone did that, you would be unstoppable. 

Luckily for you and Haley, you were the first ones in line to board the bus so you two got the back seat with Zara and Jazzy sitting across from you guys. The hour long bus ride passed quickly and lively with you four passing around your phone and playing some mad libs, you were sure that by the end of the last game you four were laughing and crying. Sometime in the middle of the trip, you noticed that Haley would start to lean on your shoulder and continuously glance at you as she laughed. You desperately wanted to believe that it was because she liked you, but she was straight and she was your best friend. She was probably trying to make sure you were having a good time. 

When the team had gotten to the opposing school and left the locker room to stretch in the gym, you could hear your family start to scream your and Haley’s names from the front row next to you, Tommy and Tubbo being the loudest amongst them with Philza trying to get them to quiet down so you could focus. You felt your cheeks heat up as you smiled at them and Haley wove enthusiastically back at them. Zara was laughing at you two. Stretching went by in a flash and before you knew it, you were on the court facing the opposing team. 

The first match was won by the opposing team by five points. The second match stretched on and on until it was won by your team narrowly by two points. The team was going to have to shape up in the third match if you guys wanted a chance at winning, the opposing team was good. Before the third match started, Coach Williams called for a time out so you guys could talk about strategy. Before Haley could go back onto the court, you pulled her aside.

“Hales, we need to do what we practiced. The other team won’t be expecting it at all, I’ve been setting you up this entire game. They’re never going to expect you setting me up for a spike.”

“When are we going to do it though? We need a better plan.”

“I’m sure the opportunity will come and both of us will recognize it. We just can’t do it too early in the game though, that’ll ruin their surprise.”

“(Y/n), I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“When do I not Hales? We gotta get gold this year.”

The third round went by with both teams constantly swapping places until you both were tied fifteen to fifteen. You saw the ball flying towards Haley, giving her the perfect opportunity to set you up for a spike.  “HALEY NOW!” 

You watched as her face hardened in determination as she pretended like she was going to spike it by jumping high in the air and stretching her arms back, making the opposing front row players all gather in front of her. Much to their surprise, she launched it towards you as you leaped up and went for the kill. The stinging of the ball hit by your wrist and the smack sound the ball made when it slammed onto the open gym floor was something you’d never forget as the crowd around you went wild over the unexpected play. You could hear the high pitched screaming of Tommy and Tubbo over everybody else. Glancing at them over your shoulder, you saw them jumping up and down on the gym floor and looking at you with awe filled eyes and gaping mouths. The rest of your family looked at you with similar expressions, their cheers echoing in your mind. Winking at them, you turned back to your team and went straight to Haley. Clapping a hand on her shoulder, you pulled her into a quick hug, yelling over the raving of the crowd. “HALEY WE NAILED THAT!” 

“HOLY SHIT I DID NOT THINK THAT WAS ACTUALLY GONNA WORK!”

“You have such little faith in your setter! You wound me Hales.”

“Well, I would have more faith in you if you weren’t chaotic on the court, sweetheart.”

You felt yourself surge in happiness at the nickname, but you couldn’t afford to focus too much on it. Your team only needed one more point to win best in the state and go to nationals. It would be the first time in your team’s history if you reached national level, and you’d be damned if you were the one to screw it up for them. 

The last rotation went on for a while, each team fighting tooth and nail for the state championship title with clashing determination. You tried your best to block every hit and try to set Haley up for a spike, and you were successful for the most part, only missing a few blocks. You saw the setter adjacent to you set the spiker up for a spike and jumped up in time to try to block it, your arms stretched upwards and your palms out. Only, the ball didn’t hit your hands. It collided painfully with your nose, ricocheted off your face with a thwack and sailed over to the other side of the court. Your head whipped back as your body followed suit and flew backwards onto the floor. Without giving you any time to react, your head bounced back and cracked against the polished hardwood floor of the gym. Everything went black. 

“...(y……”

“..(y/n)......”

“(Y/n).”

You faintly heard someone calling someone’s name over the continuous ringing noise. Was it your name? It felt right, so it had to be your name. You peeled your eyes open to see a blurry figure hovering over you. It was swirled with tans, browns, and backs. After a while of the figure repeating your name, it slowly became more recognizable, albeit appearing twice in your vision. It took you a while to figure out who this was before your muddled brain recognized Haley.

“Hales! There’s two o’ya. Twice as beautiful babe…” You slurred out as you attempted to smile at her.

“Oh thank god, PLEASE WE NEED A DOCTOR SHE HIT HER HEAD!” Her usually angelic voice gritted against your brain like sandpaper making you cringe as pain exploded in your head.

“God babe you’re so loud, why’s so bright? I-wha's goin on?” You blearily tried to move your head to look around only to be stopped by a pair of large hands on each side of your head gently holding it in place. You moved your laggy eyes around to look at the figure. He was a blonde man with blue eyes and a hint of stubble on his chin. His eyebrows were knitted together and he looked… he looked… your brain worked to figure out why he looked how he looked. Who was he?

“Please don’t move hun.” His muffled voice was baritone. You squinted at him trying to figure out who this man was.

“Who th f-fuck… why?”

“I’m your dad hun. Do-do you not recognize me?” You made a noise in the back of your throat as your stuffy brain finally put a name to the face.

“Dad- wha’s goin on? I’on feel so good…”

“Shh, I know, I know. Just stop moving and talking. Everything’s fine. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Mmk… Dad, where are we? I’ont know- you’re so quiet.”

“Stop moving so much. You’re on the floor in a gym. You just won your team the state championship. Now stop talking please.”

Huh. So that’s why everybody seemed to appear from above you. You strained your eyes to look around you, but you could only see your dad’s face hovering above you. “Shit I- who’s aroun’ me? Where’s Hales?”

“I’m right here sweetheart. I got the doctor, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad’s face moved away from your vision so fast that it made your head spin and your stomach twist. Another face appeared above you that you once again didn’t recognize.

“I’m Doctor Martin, can you tell me your first and last name?”

“Uh, (y/n) Minecraft?”

“Good, what month are we in right now?”

“Nov-November?”

“Close, it’s late October. Can you tell me who this,” he pointed to your dad, “is?”

“S’my dad Phillip.”

“That’s your dad Philza.”

The questioning stopped as he suddenly shined a blinding light into your sensitive eyes. You hissed as you tried to move your head away from the offending light only to be held in place by your dad’s hands. Your head spun as you moved too quickly and a wave of nausea hit you, making you groan and move your arm to cover your eyes. Your hand was stopped by something warm and soft wrapping around it and holding it tightly. Everything was so overwhelmingly and painfully bright and loud. You wanted to make it stop. 

“Mr. Minecraft, your daughter appears to have a concussion. I don’t have the tools on hand to determine the severity of it, but it’s worrying that her pupils are asymmetrical, she’s delirious, and has slight memory loss. I understand you live about an hour away from here, and it’s alright for you to take her to a hospital closer to your house. Make sure you keep her alert.”

Your delirious mind only registered about half of what came out of the doctor’s mouth. You mumbled gibberish as you once again opened your eyes to look around. You were only briefly able to crane your neck to the left. Several figures large and small were standing behind your dad. Your family, your mind supplemented. Slowly, your mind was starting to recognize your surroundings even if there was currently double of everything and everything was blurry.

“I’m going to help you stand up. Do ya think you can do that?”

“Yeah Dad.” You lifted your upper body off from the ground with a gentle hand on your back helping you sit up. Fighting the wave of nausea that slapped you in the face, you reached up to rub at your eyes. A hand once again stopped you. You peeked your eyelids open and lightly glared at whomever stopped you. “Hales you’re lucky you’re so cute I woulda slapped you. I like holdin but you’re bein annoying. Stop.” You attempted to make your voice sound firm, but the words that came out of your mouth were slightly slurred.

She was silent as she helped her dad haul you to your feet. Once on your feet, you saw the room spin and felt yourself start to sway slightly. An arm wrapped itself around your shoulders and pulled you close to them so that your weight was supported. They were a little taller than you were making it easy to lean on them. 

“...Can you walk?” A deep, monotone voice rumbled the chest of the person you were leaning against. 

“Mhm. ‘M not weak.” Though your limbs felt like they were made of molasses, you placed one foot in front of the other slowly. The person moved alongside you, “you’re doing so good, keep going.” That sparked familiarity in you as you stopped in your tracks and tried to look up at the person you were leaning against making the person tighten their arm around your shoulders when you almost fell over.

“Tech?”

“Yeah, it’s Technoblade. Just focus on walking. You’re almost out of the gym.”

When you realized that you were out of the gym, you sighed in relief. It was so much quieter and darker. Though it was still relatively bright, it was better than the gym. 

“S’better.”

“When we get her to the car we can give her some sunglasses or something if it’s still too bright for her.”

“Wilbs-”

“Focus on walking.”

You huffed in irritation, “don’ tell me what to do bitch.”

You felt Techno’s body jolt slightly as he chuckled, making your head throb at the sudden movement. “Just walk.”

When you walked outside, you shivered as you felt the cool air nip at your exposed skin. Right, you were in your volleyball uniform. “I’ll go pull the car around, you guys stay with her.” 

You saw a tall brunet start to walk away from you. Uncle Splat? Uncle Schmat? Whatever his name was, you were sure he was your uncle. You tried to snuggle closer to Techno, craving warmth but never being satisfied. Where was your uncle? 

After a while, you saw a car moving towards you and blinding light pointed right at you making you cringe away and groan. Techno started to slowly walk towards the car. “C’mon (y/n), you’re almost there. When you’re in the car you can relax.”

“Tommy, Tubbo, and Techno, you’re in the back row. Schlatt can drive and Wil, you’re taking the passenger seat. I’ll stay with her in the middle row so she can have some room to lay down.” Tommy and Tubbo were with you? Why weren’t they talking, they usually were very vocal.

“Tom, Tubbs didja like the game?”

They didn’t say anything as they climbed into the car. Did they not hear you? 

“They’re just… tired (y/n).” Your dad’s voice reassured you as he took Techno’s place holding you up. 

“I wanna nap. ‘M so tired.”

“You can’t sleep yet. We gotta get you to a doctor first.”

“Mm. Makes sense.”

“Let’s get you in the car hun.”

As he helped you climb into the car, you felt an overwhelming wave of nausea wash over you making you lose your balance and almost faceplant into the cloth seats. You felt yourself being gently, yet urgently taken out of the car and led to grass as you felt your esophagus shorten. Something burning made its way up your throat and spewed into the grass. You felt someone rubbing your back as you puked up your dinner. 

When you were done, you reached up with a shaking hand to wipe your mouth. “You feelin better? Think you can get back into the car or do you need to sit down for a bit?”

“Car.”

After some difficulty, you were successfully in the middle row of the car laying down with your head on Philza’s lap. Soon enough, your shoes were taken off and a blanket was draped over you. 

“(Y/n), what do you remember?”

You scrunched up your face as you squinted at Philza’s face. “I remember playing volleyball with Hales. She’s so pretty, she’s straight though. I remember the other team hitting the ball, me jumping, then nothin. Wha’ happened?”

You watched as Philza winced, “well, you got everything right so far. You got hit in the face with the ball so you fell and hit your head on the floor. You were passed out for a minute before you woke up. It was a pretty nasty fall, we’re going to the hospital now. How’re ya feelin?”

“Head hurts, ‘m seein two of everything, an I can’t think.”

“Do you know what a concussion is?” You nodded in his lap slightly, “you probably have one.”

After a while of talking, you were slowly starting to come to your senses and your speech was clearing up, but your head was still too stuffy to think about what you were saying before you said it. You didn’t have a filter.

“Do you wanna tell us about your week so far? Do you remember most of it?”

“Mhm, it was shit. On Monday I had a panic attack and Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were being bitches to me all day. They fucked up my back. On Tuesday, they got mad at me for ditching them and they had me do their homework, had another panic attack, and Haley told me that someone took pictures of our boobs ‘n stuff and they were gonna leak it to the school if Haley didn’t stop hanging out with me. Haley and I almost kissed, but she’s straight. Pulled an all nighter and Wednesday I accidentally came out to Tech and Wil and had another panic attack. Annie, Adrian, and Sammy took more pictures of me through my window, Annie outed me to the entire school and slapped me. Another panic attack, skipped the last two classes and felt like shit the entire practice. Today Adrian and Sammy told me to kill myself and I had another panic attack. ’S about it.”

As you were going through your week, the hand that was previously gently stroking your hair had frozen as the car was enveloped in a tense silence. Luckily, Tommy and Tubbo were passed out in the back seat so they didn’t hear how bad your week was. Everyone awake knew that you had a few bad days this week, but they didn’t know the full extent of it. You watched as Philza’s expression had turned downright murderous, but you didn’t really care. You were busy talking about your week.

For the rest of the car ride, Philza asked you simple questions like what your favorite color was, your favorite animal, basically your favorite everything. Eventually, the car pulled into the hospital parking lot and Philza helped you get out of the car. “Schlatt, can you take the boys home so they can get some rest? I’ll stay with her.” 

“Yeah, I’m on it. Don’t cause too much trouble (y/n), we all know you can raise hell.” He watched you for a reaction, but when you didn’t react, he coughed. “Well, I’ll see ya later kid. Good luck.”

The car drove off leaving you and Philza at the front of the emergency room building. “It’s gonna be a long night (y/n).”

“I gotta finish Annie’s essay and Sammy’s presentation though.”

“No you don’t, I’ll email your teachers.”

You two checked in with the front desk before moving to sit on the uncomfortable chairs. It was going to be a long night. You were so tired.

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