#Mote Kei

[infiniteartmachine]

a couple of women in lingersuits standing next to each other

[dokries]

always for you (my heart beats)

pairing: hong jisoo (joshua) x gender neutral reader

genre: comfort, established relationship

word count: 875

warnings: some crying, passing mention of food near the end, reader not feeling well

author note: hi ! this is another repost, so if you’ve seen it, you probably have :D this is also very self indulgent but. i want a joshua :(

masterlist

it isn’t until you step into your shared apartment and slump down on the couch, tossing aside your things on the floor with a loud thud, that you feel the sheer exhaustion set into your bones.

you sigh, wiping your face with your hands before pushing the heels of your palms into your eyes.

today is not your day, to say the least. the drink you bought in the morning had found its way onto your clothes, and though you brushed it off with a weary smile when the barista apologized furiously, you’re just so tired. you don’t know why either, considering you got a decent amount of sleep last night.

lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the sound of the key turning in the front door’s lock, and joshua making his way over to you.

“darling? are you alright?” he asks, squatting down and gently moving your hands away from your eyes, that are…tearing up? huh. when did the tears start rolling down your face?

“–y love. my love?” noticing that you aren’t paying attention to his words, joshua takes your face into his hands, slowly wiping your cheeks with his thumbs; the pads of his fingers are warm against your skin.

“darling, is anyone in there?” he says jokingly. you hum a reply, not having the energy to form words.

he frowns at your response (or lack thereof) before getting up to sit beside your defeated form. without saying anything, he takes your hands into his before squeezing gently, rubbing calming circles with his thumbs. his bangs fall into his eyes, and you notice how disheveled his appearance is. did he run here on his way home from work?

you aren’t unfamiliar with the sixth sense joshua seems to have when it comes to you feeling unwell. on days you feel off, he often grabs you a drink or small trinket from the shop close by on his way home, only saying that he felt as if you needed a pick-me-up, as if he just knows.

you don’t know how long you stare at that mote of dust in his left eyebrow before your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper. “i’m sorry.”

joshua immediately pulls you into himself, stroking the top of your head. “no, no, you don’t need to apologize to me ever, especially when you feel like this. no apologies in our relationship.”

his chest is warm against your head and you’re suddenly surrounded by his steady heartbeat, keeping him alive. you find yourself wondering if your heart beats as steady as his, even though you’re crumbling in his comforting arms. as his hands rub soothing shapes into your back, you focus on breathing, using the way joshua’s chest slowly rises and falls as an example.

after an eternity, or maybe just two minutes, joshua pushes you back slightly so that your back rests against the couch and he can see your face again.

“wanna talk about it?” he asks softly. you know joshua would never push you to talk if you didn’t want to but you feel like maybe it would help; you know he did it often when he was upset. if it worked for him, maybe it would for you too?

mustering up the energy to speak, you shake your head. “just had a bad day, shua. it just–it felt like nothing was going my way today.” you pause before your boyfriend nods for you to continue, softly grabbing your hands again. “this week has been so hectic, you know? for both of us.”

he smiles softly before bringing your hand up to his mouth, and places a small kiss on the side of it.

“yeah…you’re right. is there anything i can do for you today though?” he nudges your knee for an answer.

you speak hesitantly. “can you…let me listen to your heartbeat?” you see him raise an eyebrow and you rush to continue, face growing warm. “i—i was more calm when i heard it. it’s like, hearing your heartbeat grounds me because i know you’re alive, and i’m alive with you,” you finish, looking down at your intertwined hands.

you hear joshua let out a low breath and look up at his wide eyed expression as he kisses you on the cheek before moving back from your face slightly, your noses almost touching. his tone warm, he calls your name gently. “of course. you can always hear my heart beat, as it beats for you.”

you giggle a little at his slightly very corny line and at his goofy grin, knowing he’s just trying to cheer you up. you move towards joshua’s chest, his arms wrapping around you once more.

you close your eyes, savouring the warmth of being hugged by him, and listen to his heart beat, just for you.

soon enough, you fall asleep and joshua lifts you up slowly before moving you to your bed and wishing you sweet dreams with a peck on the forehead. when you wake up, he’ll make soup is what he plans in his head, as he moves to sit down on the couch.

a small smile creeps up on his face as he puts his hand to his heart. the one beats for you, always.

[pseudowho]

Nanami Kento and Higuruma Hiromi are given the same box of IKEA flat-pack furniture.

Kento has a well-organised tool bag, a drill, a tape measure, a spirit level. He reads the instructions through once, slowly, hums, and nods at the end. He builds, methodical, mathematical, flawless. You could build it yourself, of course, but there's something soothing to both of your souls as you watch him, wooly cardigan clutched across your breasts, a cup of tea swirling steam, the sunlight illuminating the dust-motes floating past his shoulders. Kento finds clarity, a slow peace with the world, huffing a soft puff of satisfaction as the drawer-runner glides into place just so.

The result looks professional. He should be employed by IKEA, you think, to put their catalogue pieces together. He is almost disappointed there isn't more to do, having found the experience profoundly therapeutic.

"Where do you want it?" Kento asks you, casually lifting the furniture as if it weighs nothing. You gesture. He carries, positions. Accepts a cup of coffee, pressed into his hands as you grace him with an appreciative kiss.

Higuruma Hiromi had a drill, once. He's certain it's in the same place as those missing keys. Or, the album he's been meaning to listen to for a while? Anyway. You hear cursing and crashing as he rummages through the cupboards, eventually appearing with two pristine, still in their packaging screwdrivers. He reads the instructions step-by-step (but uses the wrong plank of wood for the base anyway, having to double back 6 steps to correct himself), keeps losing his pencil (it's behind his ear, every time), drops pieces on his feet (hopping and swearing), lifts you up and throws you sideways along the sofa, certain the missing screw is under your bottom. He has a glass of wine halfway through, staring out of the window, and asks you, full of solemn despair; "Why is life this way?"

You offer help, concerned by how his hair stands on end, how his shirt has sweat patches, and the look of heated fury in his eyes. The response is almost toddlerish-- "No! I'll do it," he reassures, his voice carefully tempered. You offer him an encouraging smile, now on your 3rd cup of tea, pouring his down the sink and putting the kettle on again. You could build it yourself, of course, but Hiromi has a thirst to prove that he can, and well...who are you to deny him that?

The result? Picasso. It has...character.

"Where do you want it?" Hiromi asks you, dragging it with a concerning grind across the hard floor. You wince, gesturing. He drags, positions. Accepts a cup of coffee, smiling, proud, and pulls you onto one sweaty armpit, nuzzling his shiny hooked nose into your hair.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Neat Suit/Messy Suit Aesthetics

Hot Anger/Cold Anger Aesthetics

"Get Up!" Fighter/"Stay Down!" Fighter Aesthetics

City-Skyline Penthouse/Converted-Factory Penthouse Aesthetics

[sillysiluriforme]

So glad you liked the other Chloe submission, thanks for the informative and entertaining response and the kind words from the comrades!

As before no worries if not interested but I did have a couple more thoughts, though be it these one's likely relate very specifically to teen Chloe so may not be useful/interesting but still.

Oh quick aside:

Not sure how prevalent Sabrina is, but the fact we see her dad encourage her master servant dynamic with Chloe, because it fits his definition of being "Useful" to society and how... Low key unhinged Sabrina can get about her usefulness not being utilized or acknowledge (Like with Marinette) is very interesting. Her & Chloe finding each other in canon is just like two people with hilariously complimentary but deeply unhealthy ideas forming a circular relationship of mutual self destruction.

Anyway, an interesting thing to me is how while Chloe does replicate the abusive behaviors taught (Andre) or demonstrated (Audrey,, Gabriel & Emilie) to her, she had already softened them without any real moral or empathic guidance.

Andre: He explicitly taught her cheating, extortion & threats are moral goods, and she does use them to try and win at things. But she doesn't actually utilize them that often or with as much intensity.

& like her father she uses money/gifts to compensate for shitty behavior but unlike him does, ya know, do things with Sabrina & is invested in their relationship outside of Sabrina's use as a tool.

& while she did use Sabrina as a shield in Zombisu, she also protected her in Ladybug, so its at least mote mutual as I cannot envision Andre doing anything for Chloe that really risks him.

Audrey: She's been impersonating her mother for years in a bid to earn her love but it didn't work until someone else made Audrey decide it was worthwhile & even then didn't seem to amount to much.

So while like Audrey she is antagonistic, haughty and rude, Chloe did actually demonstrate the ability to feel guilt (Zombisu but others too) & when Akumatized in the early series was not terribly murderous.

Compare that to Audrey who happily mulches her husband and daughter despite AKuma usually avoiding hurting their loved one's outside of indirect harm done by their warped attempts to protect.

Gabriel & Emilie: She clearly fucking hates that Adrien is making friends with people she hates and who hate her and is possessive of the relationship.

Yet until everything goes to hell, she doesn't really do much to try and stop him or undermine said relationships either. That is to say, she's already far less possessive & controlling than Emilie of Gabriel are.

Conclusion: So yeah while definitely not good, she had seemingly without much if any guidance, already made the abusive traits she picked up less toxic than those demonstrated by the adults around her.

Note: Also I always feel compelled to note this, but it is low key creepy Andre has been rewarding Chloe for impersonating his wife.

Like even if he's just instinctively recreating the dynamic he had with Audrey; not sure on that as they do seem to argue a lot.

Or is just using Chloe as an emotional crutch/ego-soothing proxy for Audrey's approval... Its still deeply messed up & unhealthy.

you're so smart @clemnoir was right you deserve sloppy head

I love thinking about child development when it comes to fictional characters, it's so fun...Also i don't care how much the show tries i will never have empathy for andre i hope he explodes into a fine mist

[kidasthings]

Echoes of Eden by Kida

Noa x Mae - #mommaknowsbest

Chapter 3: https://www.tumblr.com/kidasthings/751031002718240768/echoes-of-eden-by-kida?source=share

Next Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/kidasthings/751482584388829184/echoes-of-eden-by-kida?source=share

Chapter 4

They made it back to the Eagle Clan village at daybreak, just as the first rays of early light touched the earth and migrated through the trees above. It painted the ground cover with a dappling effect, shifting penumbras and warming daisies.

Mae walked among the apes wisely sticking close to Noa. Anaya gave her a wide berth all the while, nervous eyes flicking her way when she strayed too close. Soona was much the same, save for the steady eye contact when they did trade looks. The rest of the small contingent remained at a respectful if suspicious distance; only Noa seemed moderately comfortable with her in his immediate vicinity.

The welcome party at the village consisted of a few curious ape children and Dar, Noa’s mother. She threw her arms around her son, gave Mae a curious look, and then patted Noa on the back before speaking in hushed tones with Anaya and Soona. Mae stood awkwardly, highly aware of being the only human amongst sentient animals. There was still the chance one or more of them might try to assume issue with her for the flood she set upon them, and for this her guard remained up. The village, despite her paranoia, buzzed about her without fail. Apes were climbing half-built structures, connecting beams, and the young ran amongst a small herd of horses at pasture in a clearing dotted with wildflowers. Their shouts and hoots of joy reached beyond the treetops, unmarred by the fact their clan had barely survived the year.

Because of her.

Eventually Noa returned to her side, gesturing for her to follow him with that world-weary look he usually sported. Relieved, Mae followed and found him leading her off to a crude shack that resembled the one in which they had first met; it seemed these were used primarily to store fish. This one, however, had a different purpose.

Inside the raw-wood walls was a cache of human weapons and supplies. An ape of stature stood posted at the door, nodding at Noa but glaring balefully at Mae as they simultaneously ducked inside.

Everything was abandoned on the floor in a haphazard pile: a few rucksacks, dented weapons, sharp hunting knives, a canteen or two, rope, and other random oddities. There was not much, admittedly, but what Mae sought wasn’t exactly of size.

Mae drifted down to her knees, alighting on the packed dirt floor. “Is this everything?” she asked Noa without losing focus on the heap before her.

“Yes,” Noa confirmed.

“I see.” She floated her palm over the pile, mimicking a scanning device. Her hand hovered over the first brown knapsack, travel-worn and rusted at the buckles. Gingerly, she touched it and ran her fingers over the flap. It was secured by a simple button from the top, zippers being an exotic novelty rarely seen anymore. Carefully, she opened the bag and rifled through the contents.

Nothing caught her eye at first. There were three small knives, a few canned rations, a water flask made of animal bladder, and something that looked like –

Mae pulled out a crinkled piece of faded paper and held it up before her face. Dust motes floated lazily across an old illustration made by the hand of a child. Pastel paints depicted two stick figures, one larger than the other, holding hands. The taller one sported short blonde streaks, likely a representation for hair, and the shorter one had longer hair of the same hue. Both were smiling; simple lines curved their two-dimensional mouths upward to their dots-for-eyes.

Sucking in her cheeks until they were hollow, Mae refolded the paper and placed it back into the bag. She continued, patting down the sides and coming up empty save for a small silver key on a thin ring. She could hear Noa shuffle his weight from one foot to the other, indicating he was growing impatient. Utilizing the soft sound to her advantage, she surreptitiously used a sleight of hand technique to slip the dented key into the inner pocket of her short jacket.

Mae hazarded a quick look behind her; Noa was still staring at her back, arms folded, but there was no recognition on his face that anything was amiss.

The next bag proved more interesting. This one, black and made of canvas, contained an array of pistols with silencers. Pushing past those, the brunette located a dark metal container at the bottom of the bag. It turned out to be a lockbox secured by a small gold padlock looped through a latch on the side.

The word MASTER was emblazoned on the front.

Mae ran her thumb over the worn word in the metal, realizing it was a remnant of the world before.

Reinvigorated, she turned the box this way and that, examining the angles. Inside, something rolled back and forth in a reassuring, cylindrical way. Mae pitched her chin inward towards her collarbone and a few errant wisps of hair disconnected from her braid and swept forward, brushing the sides of her face.

Her pupils rapidly dilated behind the curtain of her hair.

Silence.

Without fanfare, Mae returned the box back to the bag and made a small show of picking up other various artifacts in the human-made heap. She stood and turned around when Noa made a small sound.

“Thank you,” she told him quietly, shoving her hands in her pockets. “I’m done.” Her voice, quick and clipped, followed the path of her footsteps as she carried herself outside of the ape-made hut.

Noa’s green eyes tracked her as she swept past him, the lower lids tensing at the edges. Finally, he nodded and removed himself from the structure to follow her out.

“Are you leaving to … follow them?” he called after her.

Mae stopped in mid-step, now well within the village proper. The ape posted outside the door traded curious looks with Noa as both watched the long line of Mae’s rigid back.

“I should,” she told him, voice muffled while she remained turned away, “but if you would allow me to remain a few more days, I can rest before returning.”

This caused the villager standing watch near Noa to silently reveal long canines, but Noa just shook his head at him before approaching Mae.

“I will … speak to the council … about it,” he told her, that stilted way in which he spoke comfortingly familiar. “For now … stay at the edge of the … village.”

“I can do that. I left my horse tied up over there.” Mae pointed off to a stand of trees to the south. “Hopefully, she isn’t too thirsty by now. I need to check on her.” Her expression remained stony and shuttered.

“Something … wrong?” Noa asked, tone too low for the other villagers to catch.

Mae’s head made a small adjustment in his direction. “No, I am just tired. Thank you for letting me look. What do you intend to do with all of it?” She was not settled with the idea of leaving human weaponry with the Eagle Clan. Her body turned halfway, her profile perfectly in view.

“We will … look through it,” Noa stated grimly. “It is ours.” He looked off to the woods, where both could hear the distant whinny of a frustrated equine. The breeze picked up, stirring the fur along his low forehead. “She sounds … hungry.”

“She had plenty of grass around. Water is more important. Do you have any nearby? I saw a lake to the north…”

Noa nodded, finding comfort in the discussion of logistics. Logistics were emotionless, effortless. He rolled his gaze over to hers, holding it. “We have a … pond in the meadow … she can drink from.” He pointed east, where the villagers’ horses were at pasture.

“Better yet.” Mae flashed him a too-tight grin, and then startled when an ape woman in a new blue shawl approached them.

“Noa, a word,” the ape said, her tenor deep and calm.

“Yes, mother.” Noa turned to Mae once more. “I will return later.”

Mae smiled then, a short spread of her lips with a quick nod. “Right.” She spared a second to and gave a once-over of the ape Noa had addressed as “mother”, and the object of her focus did the same. No words were exchanged, save for a small incline of the head on Dar’s part.

Mae spun on her heel and made off for the woods before slipping between the trees. Once the human was out of sight, both mother and son turned back to their conversation.

“Are the echoes gone … from here?” Dar inquired, now that they were passably alone.

She received a firm affirmative in the form of a grunt.

The older ape’s eyes slipped over to the ape standing next to the weapons hut, and then she motioned with her hand for Noa to follow. “Come.”

Noa trailed obediently and without objection. The pair winded their way through a gaggle of giggling ape children watching two older apes practicing fish retrieval with their newly hatched eaglets. Noa thought he spotted Soona’s long stare as she tended to a nest of eagle eggs nearby, but he could not be sure.

Eventually, they ended up at the entrance to one of the two rebuilt sky towers. Dar passed through a beaded partition, beckoning her son inside.

Within the structure a wooden ramp led to higher levels, spiraling well above their heads, but Dar paid it no mind. “Let’s speak of … the echo,” she said firmly, taking a seat on a woven mat near the back of the main floor. She patted to a place next to her, offering Noa a shallow cup of water made from a hollowed oyster shell. “Drink?”

Noa had no issue understanding who she was referring to. His thoughts would not detach from that echo. Dar’s son sighed, and accepted the shell gingerly with two hands, palms up. He took a small sip and set it aside on an overturned basket. Dar gave him a reassuring smile and placed her long forelimbs before her in a pleasant mien. “Tell me what ails you, son?”

“I do not … know what to … do,” Noa admitted, lost.

“About the echo?”

“Yes,” he replied haltingly, expecting immediate censure.

To Noa’s surprise, Dar did none of that.

She signed, “I can imagine.” Her smallest finger glanced off her forehead, shooting up with her left hand. Then, switching to words, she added, “Do you … think she is dangerous to … us?”

“Not right … now,” Noa returned, although he cast his gaze over and down, indicating doubt. “I believe … she feels bad … for flood.”

“This is good,” Dar told him, nodding in apparent acceptance.

“She wants to … stay, rest,” Noa said quickly. “Could you ask … the elders if she can … stay a few … days?”

Dar thought about that for a moment or two. Her warm toffee-colored eyes scanned Noa’s face, seeking a truth he would not voice. At last, she nodded and leaned over to place a hand over the ball of his shoulder. “She saved … Soona, yes?”

Noa nodded, “She put us all … in danger, but she saved … Soona’s life first.”

Dar considered this information, an internal debate roiling about in her head as a distant expression took up residence on her face.

Finally, she gave a short nod. “I will speak to them.”

For that, she was awarded with a small smile. “Thank you, mother.” he signed.

She signed back, “Of course. For now … keep an eye … on her.” The ape matron lifted a gray-brown index finger to one eye, illustrating her words. “Could be … trouble yet.”

Noa blew out a quick exhale before his mouth made a moue of distaste. “I fear this.”

Dar nodded, mollified by her son’s suspicions. It would do him well to have them. She gave his shoulder a good-natured shake before releasing it. “Go, you have much … to do.”

“Thank you, mother,” Noa replied.

Dar nodded. “Before you see her … call on Sun. He may … help.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

They took their leave, Noa standing slowly before exiting the tower. He looked to the south, where he imagined Mae to be, and pondered over her loyalties before calling to his eagle in the way of his clan.

A cry sounded from above, his winged companion never too far away. As the bird alighted on his wrapped forearm, Noa snorted and welcomed the pain of the talons as they dug into his hide. The bird’s watchful, amber eye flicked towards him, head snapping this way and that, wings partially extended and at the ready.

“Sun,” he began, as if there were some secret between them that only they knew, “keep watch over Mae.” The bird, somehow understanding although it was impossible to believe it so, gave his handler a look of avian scorn. Its razored beak parted, clicked shut, and a shrill cry emanated from its trachea.

“Calm,” Noa told the bird, giving his bonded’s back one pat with his long fingers. The bird fluffed its feathers, appearing momentarily larger, and then dropped into a temporary crouch before launching himself from Noa’s arm. The heavy weight of the raptor now released, Noa watched it circle once overhead and wished it could also do the same for the weight on his chest. He rubbed his clavicle with his hand, trying to distill the phantom pain he felt there.

He might have a chance to rectify that when he spoke with her later that night. For now, Sun would keep watch. Noa watched until his eagle disappeared over the tops of the trees, momentarily wishing for the gift of flight.

How easy it would be, to fly away, he mused.

[neo404]

feel better

summary: nick has a long day, so you help him feel better

tw: nsfw

i hear nicks voice message as i walk into my room. my hair damp from my shower, i sigh as i hear that he is having a rough day, today he comes to have a sleepover and i wanted to have a nice time with him, we still can, but i hate it when he comes grumpy, it makes me feel a bit sad that i cant always help him.

i send a message trying to comfort him and reasure him that it will be fine, that he just has to wait a few hours more and we can cuddle in front of my tv while he tells me all about his (in his words) annoying lame brothers.

i clean up my room a bit as i wait for him to come home. he said he was on his way, so i quickly changed clothes and sat in my livingroom waiting for the knock on my door, i look down at my phone and open tiktok, i scroll pass some funny videos and some romantic/cute couple videos, i see some slides that read "when he is having a bad day, so i suck it away" i snorted at this, amazed by the peoples unhinged comments about their partners and how they will do this or how they want their partner to do this.... wait, my boyfriend is having a bad day, should i-.

KNOCK KNOCK.

i shake the thought away as i stand up, i hear some keys moving and the door opens, he used the spare key i gave him a long time ago.

"honey." i say as i walk to him as hug him tightly, his tired eyes looking at mine as i kiss his lips softly.

"hi." he whispers. we stand there a long time, his face buried in the crook of my neck, i hear him hum and sigh against my skin.

"lets go lay down on my room." nick doesn't reply, he just hums. i pull our of the hug, but he grabs my hand snd walks closely to me as i close and lock the door, then on the kitchen i pour a glass of water for him, his hand still on mine, and when we were walking to my room he was practicaly glued to me, his chest against my back as we made it to my bed.

"wanna tell me about your day?" i ask as i sit make him sit on the edge of the bed.

"hm, bot really. just the usual fights with matt anc chris, just that today they decided to be more annoying than usual, dumb kids." he rolls his eyes, i walk closer to him and his large arms wrap around my waist.

"maybe i can help to make you feel better."

"yeah? how will you do that?" he smiles weakly and looks up at me. i rub his shoulders and smile at him.

"maybe... i can eat you out." i see his cheeks burn up a bit, mine do too. even when we have been together for a long time and have done all kinds of things with eachother, we always get flustered when initiating intimate things.

"i- shit. how can i say no to that." i kiss his check and then go down on my knees in front of him, he looks down at me and grins.

"i'll make you feel better, i promise." i say as i start to feel his bulge over the thick fabric of his pants. he shuts down a moan.

"im sure you will." i feel his dick get harder from my touch, nick rolls and buckles his hips a bit as he tries to get mote pleasure.

"just relax, let me do the job." i unbuckle his jeans and with his help i push them down. his boxers have a wet spot right were his tip lays against the fabric, he seems a bit embarrased about it. "aww, such a messy boy." i see his face get red and he looks away. "its okay, baby, i know you needed this." i grab his lenght over the fabric and i rub my thumb against the wet spot, his sensitive cock twitching all over.

"fuck, need ylur mouth, please." he whines.

"who am i to say no to my pretty boy?" i play with the hem of his boxer a bit, pulling the elastic band and letting go of it so it slaps against his skin. i slide them down just enough for his lenght to stand up in front of me. white drop rolling down his lenght, i give lick and kisses to his head, my hand grabbing the base of his dick and my other hand playing with his half clothes balls.

i push it inside my mouth, at first slowly and teasing him a bit, he throws his head about, his mouth opens and lets out pretty moans and deep groans. my head moves up and down, every time deeper and faster, sloppy just like he loves it. now the room is filled with wet noises and nicks moans, praises and "i love you"s scaping his mouth.

his hips buckle and his legs tremble, his breath is uneven and one of his hands push down on my head making me gag. tears pooling in my face, his dick twitching and pulsing inside of me. i hear him cry out that he is close. i keep moving with his helps and when i least expect it i feel the warm liquid hit my throat. i pull away and cough a little, then i swallow, his taste all over my tongue, i get up and sit on his lap, his head resting on my chest as he tries to catch his breath.

"did you liked it." i ask and he nods.

"loved it."

"im glad." i kiss his forehead and move the little hairs sticking to his forehead out of the way.

"shit, thanks, it was amazing." he buries his head into me and rubs his cheek against my chest.

"im glad you enjoyed. lets go get you cleanned up."

Taglist: @freshloveforthefit @shywolfapricotfan @sturnphilia @matty-bear @thenickgirl @stvrniolvsp @paige05 @soursturniolo @miloisdone1 @teenagetrash00 @lovely-calypso @h3arts4harry

[asidian]

Demeter

by: Asidian

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Pairing: Astarion/Wyll

Event: Wyllstarion Remix Spring 2024

Warnings: past abuse, past torture, AU

Excerpt:

There's a click, as of a key turning in a lock, and the scroll dissolves in his hands, reduced to flickering motes of light. Wyll takes a moment to return the scroll case, now empty, to its hook on the beams.

Then he reaches down to open the chest.

He has, he thinks, some very reasonable expectations for what might wait inside. Possibly there are jewels. Perhaps expensive clothing. The dimensions of the trunk are odd, so it's not out of the question that there might be carpets or interior décor.

What he absolutely does not expect to find is a man.

[bakedbakermom]

Good Morning

Rated X // 2300 words // Read on A03

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

Summary:

He loves her first thing in the morning.

Notes:

A little smutbiscuit for Kinktober 2023. Prompts: morning sex, frottage, (light) somno. I was 3 or 4 days into writing this fic when the painfully talented @msrafterdark posted this piece and it was like fate and the universe had come together.

He loves her first thing in the morning.

Well, he loves her all the time—volleying theories back and forth across the office over burnt coffee and crappy photocopies, singing along off-key to whatever radio station comes through the static three hours into a road trip from one corner of nowhere to another, lounging on a tiny motel bed with sharp springs and a pile of reports spread out like snow across scratchy blankets. He loves her on his couch sharing a beer after a long day, in her kitchen as they dole out boxes of takeaway (broccoli beef extra spicy for him, kung pao tofu for her, and she always nabs the carrots from his shrimp fried rice), nestled against him with her tiny feet propped up on the coffee table and a bad movie on TV. He loves her when she presses her sweet lips to his and breathes hot into his mouth, when she wraps her smooth white legs around his waist and whimpers “more,” when she clenches around him in the dark as she shatters on a gasp of his name. Oh yes, he definitely loves her then.

But he especially loves her first thing in the morning.

It’s something about how soft she is. Agent Scully is all crisp lines and barbed tongue, the creases of her suits pressed sharp enough to kill a man as she slices through the hallways of the Hoover Building like a red-headed sword of justice, eyes flashing blue steel. Agent Scully can unman the most cantankerous and blustering small-town sheriff with the twitch of one razored brow, can force Death itself at scalpel-point to surrender the most intimate secrets of the grave.

Agent Scully flashes through her days like a machete, too sharp to touch and so blindingly bright it hurts him to look at her sometimes. But Morning Scully. Oh Morning Scully…

Her edges blur in the evening, melting under his words and his mouth and his hands, but it takes until morning for her to grow butter-soft and creamy between the rumpled sheets of their bed—her bed or his, both are theirs, though this particular morning they’re secure behind door 42, the honeyed sunlight of a rare empty Sunday drizzling through the blinds and illuminating the intricate dance of the little dust motes that hang in the air. She sleeps on her side with her back to the window, the light catching her crimson hair in a nimbus that he thinks would inspire a better man to painting or poetry, but reduces him to gibbering wonderment.

He watches her sleep with something like awe. Her lips slack and slightly parted, still plump and red from kissing. Freckles sprinkled like cinnamon across her sleep-pinked cheeks, hair in a delightfully tousled disarray that makes him think of sunset clouds and cotton candy. There’s a little crease between her eyebrows as if she’s dreaming of something unpleasant, and he smoothes it oh so gently with his thumb. He doesn’t want to wake her; he’s not done looking yet. 

The sheets have shifted as they slept, revealing the hourglass curve of her side, the mole cradled just inside the firm crest of her hip. She had whimpered last night as he tongued it, a long detour on his slow journey to the oasis between her thighs. Her body is ripe with secrets to explore, his mental map of her slowly filling in as he traverses every hill and valley. He writes “here be monsters” beneath her ribs where she is too ticklish to touch, “here be angels” on the curve of her breast where the gentle scrape of his teeth makes her breath hitch. He finds heaven in the cradle of her hips, nirvana in the fragrant skin of her neck, paradise in the lush press of her lips.

Morning Scully may be soft, but Morning Mulder is getting decidedly less so by the minute.

She stirs slightly and rolls onto her back, the sheet slipping down the slope of her breast. One rosey nipple emerges into the cool morning air, pebbling quickly into a tantalizing peak, and he can’t resist anymore. He leans over her and circles it gently with his tongue, then pulls it into his mouth. He licks and sucks, feeling her flesh tighten even more, and when he scrapes his teeth against it, her chest jumps beneath him. She sucks in a breath, and her hands come up to card slowly through his hair. “Morning, Mulder,” she murmurs, her words still slurred with sleep.

“Good morning, Scully,” he answers as his mouth slides wetly to her other breast, on which he lavishes the same attention as the first, the slow and thorough consideration of his lips and teeth and tongue. Her breathing quickens, her pulse jumping visibly beneath the soft skin of her throat, and she moans low and long. He runs one hand up her leg, and her thighs part with a contented sigh; his fingers move higher until they brush against the curls of her sex, parting them to reach the hot, slick slit beneath. Morning Scully is always putty in his hands, her limbs loose and heavy, making love to him like something from a dream. “Sleep well?”

“Mmmhmm.” Her hips move in small circles as he plays between her legs, right on the line between soothing and arousing, and a blush blooms across her chest. “Wh-what time’s it?”

“Late.” He kisses his way up her neck, suckles on her earlobe until she whimpers softly. She still hasn’t opened her eyes. “I let you sleep in as long as I could stand it. Sorry.”

“S’okay.” His fingers skim her entrance and she twitches beneath him. “This is a nice way to wake up.”

“Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Her face scrunches adorably, and she makes a grumpy whining sound in her throat. “Maybe?”

He smiles into her skin, presses his fingers just barely inside her. “Do you want me to stop while you figure it out?”

Eyes still closed, lower lip between her teeth, she smiles and shakes her head. 

Her body is sleep-warm and limp as he drags her thigh over his hip, opening her to him. His erection presses into the firm flesh of her ass as he strokes her, coaxing her arousal slowly to life. He slides his fingers through the slick folds of her sex, coating them in her wetness; some of it must be from last night, when he had pressed her into the cushions of the creaking leather couch and come inside her with a cry that made the upstairs neighbor bang on the ceiling—and then again, in this bed, as she rode him like a prize pony until they both came apart at the seams. She clenched around him like a vise as they came together, and the way he spasmed inside her only set her off again, until their orgasms seemed to feed off each other in an ouroboros of pleasure that felt endless and left them both gasping, shaking, too exhausted to even roll off the wet spot, let alone clean up properly.

She’s slick halfway down her thighs.

“Fuck, Scully, you’re so wet. You feel so good.” He slides his tongue into her ear and one finger into her slippery, aching heat, and her neck arches off the bed. “You felt good last night, too, especially the second time”—and now he scrapes his teeth along the shell of her ear, slides a second finger alongside the first—“when your pussy was already full of my cum, when I could feel it leaking out of you as I fucked you.”

“Jesus, Mulder,” she gasps, and spreads herself open even more, hooking her leg behind him and shifting a little onto her side. He holds her across her stomach and gathers her partly on top of him; her head falls back on his shoulder so he can tongue the soft column of her throat, nibble the sweet ridge along her collarbone. He ruts against her as his fingers pump slowly in and out, her clit hardening beneath his thumb. One arm is still trapped against the mattress, and he wriggles it free as best he can to fondle her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

She moans, squirming against him and pushing her ass deliciously against his hard length, begging for more. A quick shift of her hips, an awkward moment of fumbling, and then his cock is no longer trapped between their bodies but gliding between her slickened labia, and she brings a hand down to press him more tightly against her. He thrusts languidly, trapped between her hot little fingers and her even hotter cunt; he skims across her entrance with each stroke, rubs the head of his cock against her clit, her hips rolling in counterpoint to his sweet, unhurried rhythm. She reaches backward to grab his hair, whimpering, and his newly unoccupied hand busies itself at her other breast, groping and tweaking them in tandem.

“I love making you feel good, Scully.” His voice is velvet and gravel, his cock almost painfully hard against her molten core, and he talks to keep from embarrassing himself by coming before he’s even gotten inside her. “I love making you wet, feeling your clit pulse under my fingers, my tongue.” He licks her from shoulder to ear, leaving a glistening line of saliva along her skin, then sucks on the sensitive little spot where her jaw meets her throat. Soft little oh s spill from her lips as she grinds harder against his cock, and stars crowd his vision. “I love making you come, over and over. The sounds that you make, the way you smell, the way you squeeze me with your tight, wet cunt. ”

“Oh God.” Her whole body shudders and he feels a warm trickle of arousal coat his cock. Her face turns into the pillow, muffling the increasing volume of her moans. Greedy for the sound of her, he cups her jaw to pull her into a long, sloppy kiss, swallowing each whimper as she writhes against him with growing desperation.

“Are you awake yet, Scully?”

“Yes,” she pants helplessly against his mouth, his cock gliding between her soaked folds with almost no resistance. Soft, wet sounds fill the room, broken only by her breathy moans, his desperate panting. “More,” she manages to gasp. “God, more.”

His arm tightens around her stomach, and in one smooth move he drags her fully on top of him and scoots until his back is against the headboard. Her thighs fall to either side of his and he spreads her wide, his thick cock still thrusting along her slickened sex. She drops her head back against his shoulder and he growls, “Touch yourself,” into her ear.

A moment of hesitation, a deepening blush in her cheeks, and then she obeys. He watches her hand moving in quick tight circles over her clit, brushing the head of his cock as he slides it up and down the length of her. He slips just barely inside and she cries out, chasing him with her body when he withdraws, teasing her again and again. She gasps his name between casual blasphemies, notes in a symphony of moans and whimpers. “I want you inside me,” she finally begs. Her hand is slick with her own arousal as she wraps it around his cock, pumping him slowly, holding him against her entrance. She arches back to kiss him, plunges her tongue into his mouth, unable to stop the embarrassingly high-pitched whines coming from her throat. “Fuck, Mulder, I need you inside me when I come.”

“I live to serve,” he purrs against her mouth, and thrusts firmly upward, impaling her in one smooth motion. A loud cry pours from her throat—the neighbors are definitely going to complain again—and then she’s riding him for all she’s worth, her hips rolling and the muscles in her thighs clenching as she gallops toward release.

“Yes, oh God, Mulder, yes,” she gasps again and again, breathless and wanton, her tits bouncing in his hands as he pinches her nipples and her fingers making ever-more-frantic circles over her clit. “Close, so close, harder—”

Her words melt into a loud moan as he begins to plunge into her from below, his feet braced against the bed for leverage and his cock bumping against her cervix with every stroke. “Yes, Scully,” he hisses into her ear. “I want to feel it. Fuck me until you come.”

She’s tight and clenching around him, hotter than hell and slicker than sin, and his hand leaves her breast to join her fingers, stroking her clit together. He bites her nape, hard, and with a startled “ Oh! ” she shatters, her inner walls squeezing his cock in strong, rhythmic flutters as she gushes around him.

“Christ, Scully, did you just–?! Oh my god–!” Before she has a chance to answer or even catch her breath, he squeezes her tightly against his body and thrusts hard and fast, unable to hold back any longer. His ass lifts off the bed as he pistons in and out of her, desperate for release, and when she tightens around him again he comes with a roar—someone next door bangs on the wall—spurting hot inside her until his eyes roll back in his head and his vision goes red at the edges.

He comes down to find himself spooned against her, her ass cradled in the bowl of his hips as he softens inside her. They’ve made quite a mess, but his legs are burning like he’s been running for miles, and she’s gone completely limp against him; the last thing he can imagine is getting out of bed.

Still, he tries to be a gentleman.

“Want me to make some coffee? Then maybe a shower?”

She shakes her head against the pillow and pulls his arm tighter around her body. “I think I might be falling back asleep.”

He smiles into her hair. “Want me to wake you up a little later?”

“Absolutely.”

Hope you enjoyed! As always, comments will be printed and pasted into my little self-esteem scrapbook <3

[uncouth-the-fifth]

last child - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: more domestic fluff with leon, a touch of angst over leon's scars, passing mentions of drinking, leon being a fucking cheeseball, leon's obscenely handsome back. Words: ~3k Notes: hiiiiii. thank you all so much for you kind comments on the first drabble in this lil collection, i have never felt so inspired!! thus, here's more romantic bullshit with the guy. i'm thinking these will all exist within the same vague universe with detective!reader and husband!leon, especially because you guys gave me some very interesting ideas for him. this drabble in particular was inspired by emrurow, who suggested: "leon def has a whole package of scars from his missions and just imagine this scene where the reader is like gently caressing them and kissing them and its just so fluffly and sweet and vulnerable at the same time.........aghhhh." AGREED. now combine that with my strange urge to hose this bitch down with sunscreen. i hope you like the direction i took for this! enjoy <3

“Vacation” is a funny word in the Kennedy world.

When your work-buddies at the precinct bring up their vacations, it’s always a trip with the kids that’s months in the making, or summer getaways with the missus they’ve requested time off for. Always in the States and always planned ahead. The big joke in the bullpen is that the officer with the most cases closed this year will win a dazzling trip to Greece—but Leon has been to Greece, and he claims it’s pretty boring.

You think you’d find Greece pretty boring, too, if you spent the whole time there crawling around in the mud and hiding under enemy tanks.

So, no Greece for you. Vacations in the Kennedy world look more like this: Leon is cleared to go home, he somehow gets hold of your ever-shifting work schedule, becomes possessed with the urge to throw himself at the closest idea of “relaxing,” and springs it on you as a very romantic surprise. No elaborate itineraries. No plan. Just whatever consensus the two of you come to in the car, partners-in-crime escaping into the wind.

“So… Vegas?” You joke, slipping your key into the ignition of Leon’s precious Lamborghini Miura. So precious to him, in fact, that he avoids driving it at every opportunity.

The second he sags down into the passenger’s seat, your husband spams the recline button until he’s near-horizontal. The hand not cradling an ice pack over his nasty black eye curls loose around your elbow.

He scoffs, winking open his good eye at you. “With my luck?”

“Ooh, right. Bad idea then.”

Yeah. His track record with cars alone was impressive—he’d busted open two in the first year you’d been married, and you’ve been chauffeuring him ever since. Somehow, you don’t think Leon and casinos would mix.

You can’t resist the urge to pet his poor knuckles. These, too, were banged up. After a beat of the two of you filing through all of your available escape plans, you break the pensive bubble in the car by sweetly kissing his bruise-mottled hand. “Mwah. Where do you want to be right now, baby? Let me take you there.” 

Leon’s head had lolled to face yours, and for the millionth time since Racoon you’re struck by how bone-tired he always seems. He rasps with a tasteful touch of patheticness, “I want a cold beer and I wanna be outside. Wanna see you in a swimsuit, too.”

As straight-forward as a chainsaw, this guy. Hm. Your brows flick up at the picture he paints for you, and you lean right up to his face so Leon can see how unimpressed you are. “Do you want a sandwich, too, Mr. Kennedy? Maybe some—”

You go quiet even before Leon lays a kiss on you. It’s his hand that does it, long-fingered and twisted with damage, guiding you closer with enough painful tenderness to make a mote of sand feel special. Uhm. What had you been saying? You’d been talking, but… The touch wasn’t a little tap for you to tilt your head up, no—it’s just on the right side of needy, the heavy pads of his fingertips dimpling your jaw so he can pull you down to kiss him. Happiness tastes like spearmint gum. 

You part with a soft wet sound. Leon licks his lip and smiles, “No. Just wanna be with you.”

Well, the best place to be with him that involved cold beer, the grand outdoors, and one of your swimsuits was the lakehouse he owned up in Philly. The fact that he agreed to go there was truly a testament to how desperate he was to relax. The lakehouse wasn’t like his Lamborghini, your Prada sandals, or the boat bobbing in the marina back in DC—it was a family heirloom. One last relic of the old Kennedy money he never talked about. The most Leon had ever said about his inheritance was that it was “dirty,” and you don’t think he meant in the messy way.

Your husband’s secretive past aside, the memories you’d made here together were sun-warm and golden. If you were looking to make some extra money on the side, you think you’d offer up the place to the film crew of some wholesome coming-of-age movie. It was stupidly gorgeous. On a sunny afternoon like this one, the water was one horizon-wide mirror, making the whole day twice as sky-blue and shimmering. A pine-y breeze cooled the drying water on your back and fluttered through the heavy, low-slung trees reaching for passing paddle-boats. Hanging over the whole thing was Leon’s personal slice of the Appalachian mountains. He never said much about the house itself, but his childhood hiking the trails was free game.

Leon has a knack for escaping. He’s not nearly as good at vacationing. Lucky for him, you wrote the goddamn manual.

Your husband lays his chin on his folded arms and peers at you over his shoulder. “Like this?”

From where you’re standing rooted to the weathered wood of your jetty, Leon is a fucking vision. He lays out in the sun on his belly, lazy tomcat limbs loose and pliant on the dock. All you can make out of his face is the white, knife-straight scar on his chin, hidden by a feathery curtain of angel blonde hair. Even the tacky palm tree beach towel he’s laying on suits him.

…It takes you a second to answer, cause, yeah. Yes. That’s… wow. Holy shit.

“...Dear?” 

How can one word gush with so much smugness? Hoo, boy. He was a baby, honey, sweetheart guy. Not dear. For that, you slip off one of your foam flip-flops to smack him or something—but, of course, Leon swats it aside without looking. 

The innocent little shoe almost goes spiraling into the water lapping at the dock, but bumps into your cooler instead. A fishing boat just a few leagues out has arena rock radio on full blast. One of Leon’s hands taps out the drums for Hot for Teacher.

“Shut up.” You puff a strand of hair out of your face. “Is that really how you’re gonna talk to the person single-handedly saving you from sun-damage?”

“Haven’t saved me yet,” he gives a pointed wiggle of his poor, sunscreen-less shoulders.

As rebellious as you’re feeling, you do as told. He’s impossible to resist like this. Well, he’s upsettingly dreamy in any situation, but he’s at his worst when he’s all lazy and languid for you after too long apart.

“Let’s fix that,” you say, and uncap your tube of SPF 50.

Leon’s face drops back into his folded arms. You pad around his body on the towel, careful not to step on him as you take your usual seat on the small of his back. It’s then that the gravity of your task hits you. Why the fuck are his elbows attractive?

Bigger question: how are you going to survive the next fifteen minutes? It had been you in the skincare aisle this morning. Hell, your hand had gone for the lotion sunscreen over the spray sunscreen for a reason. In that moment, you knew how your decision would butterfly into the future, and that no matter what you would always end up here, staring down the gorgeous swath of Leon’s bare back. Un-sunscreened. Needing you to touch him. Ugh.

“My eyes are up here,” Leon remarks at your silence.

Your other flip-flop dings off his shoulder with a satisfying bounce.

“...I let that happen.”

You don’t doubt that he did, but it feels good to tease him. 

Burdened by the consequences of your actions, you slump forwards on top of him. He’s dinged up even back here, and there are strange, yellowing bruises patching around his shoulder-blades that you stoop to kiss. You understand why he only has the energy to lay flat on a towel like a fish. It looks painful, and not for the first time in your life you’re overwhelmed by the need to take care of him.

…He has single-handedly set feminism back at least thirty years.

Well. Dammit. You glare down at your husband’s stupid, beautiful back muscles. “I do this because I love you very much. Not because I feel obligated to as your wife, or cause’ of any societal expectations. Just because of you.”

Leon, still running on a dead battery, gives you a confident salute. You imagine eagles cawing overhead. “Yes, ma’am.”

Another loss for feminism: that gets a big, giddy laugh out of you. Maybe you just missed him, but his sleepy jokes are hitting the mark even more than usual. You’re still peeling with giggles as you drop a big dollop of sunscreen into your hand, and they don’t die down until you’ve spread it between your palms and begun to spread it out over his shoulders.

The tips of his ears have gone red. He warmly mutters, “Love that sound.”

Since it’s not every day that you get to indulge in your husband’s back, you take your time. He lets out a long breath when the cold cream meets his sun-warm skin, and in that one sound you hear weeks of pent-up tension already melting away. Leon has always seemed unstoppable to you. Even in his wiry rookie days, when you never would’ve called him wiry at all, he felt like he could plow through anything on a wave of willpower and spite. Now, that relentlessness has become physical. He’s plump with muscle all over. His back especially, so much of his weight as taut and ready-to-go as a bull on the charge. 

Or, in less words: he’s built like a brick shithouse.

But he is still, at his core, the not-wiry-yet-wiry rookie you loved. When you accidentally press into a new bruise, he makes a soft wincing sound through his teeth.

“Sorry, baby,” you utter. 

From then on, your touches go feather-light. You fan your palms down his slim waist and make sure his freckly shoulders get good coverage. For a while, the thoughts in your mind go somewhere far away and shapeless, focussed only on the task at hand. But the sunscreen makes his skin so shiny that all the little details catch more highlights than usual, and you realize, with a rising sense of discomfort, that all the things you aren’t allowed to know about him are laid out in front of you. There are loads of scars on your husband’s back that you don’t even recognise anymore.

The old ones are the ones you know. Most of them are nothing more than thin, pale discolorations now, just distinct enough to make out from memory. In a fucked up way, it’s fascinating: there is a sad old scar on the back of your hand from Raccoon, and when it passes over a similar jagged cut on Leon’s ribs, the two have aged together. But while you’ve gained only a few odd scrapes or dings being a detective in DC, Leon’s body is a whole new story.

They are not the neat, decorational scars an artist might accessorize a figure with. It’s all ugly, in inconvenient places that layer over one another, quick swipes, deep gouges, shallow bullet wounds, shredded lacerations, and more you don’t even have words for. Your heart plummets into your gut. You’ve seen these scars on him when they were still fresh bandages, but it only dawns on you now, stepping back to look at the full picture, just how many he has.

You swallow hard. “I’m so glad you’re home. Did I tell you that?”

Leon hums a yes, but it’s a dragged out, suspicious sound. He’s quick to sus you out. Nobody in the world can read you better.

You’re shooed off his back with a hand, and when he lumbers off his belly to sit up and face you, the sliver of black-eye you catch underneath his ice pack cuts you deep. He hasn’t opened his free arm for a whole second before you’re darting underneath it, his body tacky with sunscreen where it melds with yours. Your finger swirls around the oldest bullet-scar on his arm.

Leon takes a slow pull from his beer, squishing your face a little where it’s tucked against his shoulder. The bottle taps against the dock. Tink. Always, always, he has to joke with you first. “You’re making your worried face. Stop thinking.”

Your voice is muffled by his shoulder. “You can’t even see my worried face.”

“Then you’re making your worried silence.” Disappointed, he asks, “Where’d all your giggles go?” 

The reply that your mind loads up for him is an unfiltered, pained, I hate that you’ve been in so much pain. But telling him that would only be stating the obvious, and in the grand scheme of his mission and his self-bound duty to protecting other people, (never himself, never ever himself), it feels like a stupid thing to say.

You’re not sure what to say. Instead, you drag your finger down a raised pink scar on the back of his arm, laid neatly with connective tissue like rows of embroidery. “...What’s this from?”

Leon has to check to know which one you’re talking about. Squinting at his arm, he plucks through his memory before guessing, “Pulled a girl out of a fire.”

That is exactly what you figured he’d say. Sure, he’ll chatter your ear off about Aerosmith and Italian cooking to no end, but the second you even blink in the direction of his work, the chatter dries up. All that’s missing is the smart-mouthed segue—

Leon pulls a smug face. “She’s a virologist now.”

“Ashley isn’t graduating until next year,” you roll your eyes.

That earns you a one-arm shrug. He’s still glimmering with pride. “She’ll be a virologist in a year, then.”

It’s never what gave him the scar that he remembers—it’s why he got it, what cause he took it for, that he never forgets.

The arm wrapped slung around your waist goes for his beer again, and this time Leon squishes you extra while he takes his sip. When that doesn’t succeed in sparking another laugh from you, he drops all pretense and resorts to tickling you, pinching your side and keeping you fished against him when you shriek and squirm away.

“Leon!”

“What!” He groans. “I’m trying to have a little R&R and you’re brooding. Enough.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you scoff—and then scream in outrage, because Leon decides he’s had enough of you and attempts to push you off the dock.

The only reason you don’t go sploshing into the drink is because you get a good hold on him first, and if you go down, then so would he. Between all that playful wrestling and shouting, Leon tugs you into an insistent kiss. And because this is him, the center of all good things in your world, you come out of it warm-faced and giggling again, your cheeks aching with a bright grin. He never fails to make you laugh.

You slump back on the beach towel, still twitching with little laughs. Just to win some of your dignity back, you reach past him and steal a long sip from his beer, shaking your head at him the whole time. It washes down your throat bubbly and wonderfully cold. “So mean.”

“C’mere,” Leon pats the space next to him. And knowing precisely what he’s doing, he hits you with one of the closed-mouth smiles you never see and assuages all of your worries with one, “My sweet girl.”

Hook, line, and sinker. You join him on the end of the dock, (weary of any mischievous hands that might shove you in), feet dangling over the edge and dipping into the pleasant, swaying waters. The breeze on your wet skin is almost too chilly, so Leon’s sun-warm body spooning up behind yours is the ultimate balm. You bask in your personal space heater for as long as he’ll let you, and he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder as you squeeze him close.

There’s a long, scraggly white line snaking up his wrist. You outline it with a finger. This is one of the ones you were there for, back in Raccoon—Leon took a bad hit for you, pushing you ahead of him so you could get to safety first. You’re curious to see what he’ll say.

You tap the scar. “What about this one?”

Leon doesn’t have to look to know which one you’re talking about, this time. His nose nudges behind your ear, and your body thumbs head to toe with the rumble of his voice, a single harp’s chord plucked by an expert player. “Keeping my world safe.”

Oh my god.

A huge, impish grin blooms on your face. “...You are such a fucking cheeseball.”

Leon pushes you clean off his lap and straight into the lake.

[infiniteartmachine]

a woman sitting on top of a pile of black and white circles

[ww2yaoi]

[I caved and started writing a webgott fic even though I'm 23 years late. this ground has definitely been traversed before but I'm an advocate for the webgott 2024 renaissance. here's a taste]

The war is over, and still, David and Joe are butting heads, velvet-shed antlers clashing like rival bucks during rutting season.

David’s not sure what he expected. He thought after the exultation of taking Berchtesgaden and raiding it of its liquour and silverware Joe might lighten up. He’d smiled so much that day, drank vintage champagne straight from the bottle, tore down Nazi flags and ripped them to ribbons. Something had broken in him at Landsberg, David knows that much, but he’d been hopeful that as the war tempered so too would Joe’s ire. Now he knows he’d been naive to think so.

Joe parks the Jeep outside the hotel where they’re billeted and wrestles the keys from the ignition. He climbs out and slams the door without another word, jump boots clomping against the cobblestones as he stalks away. David sits silently in the passenger’s side, Skinny’s eyes burning holes in the back of his head. He presses his lips into a thin line, sucks them between his teeth and bites down.

Captain Speirs had no right to give that order, least of all to Joe. They had no reason to keep fighting, no reason to dirty their hands when the old blood stains still linger. Leave that to the MPs and the military tribunals, their war was supposed to be over.

David gets out of the Jeep but decides not to follow after Joe. He knows the more he seeks Joe out, the more Joe will push him away. Instead, he walks, weaving through the streets of Zell am See, past shops and cafes and chalets all untouched by the ravages of war. Hitler’s home country, the birthplace of so much death and destruction, and it has the ersatz gloss of a resort town. The irony is not lost on David. He’ll write about it later if he gets the chance.

Birds chirp in the trees. Locals stroll past him, well-dressed in their spring clothes and chatting away jovially amongst themselves. They regard him without much fanfare, used to the sight of American soldiers by now. The water of Lake Zell is so blue it makes David’s eyes ache. He fishes his cigarettes from the pocket of his paratrooper jacket and slides one into his mouth, fiddling with his Zippo until the flame sparks and lights the tip.

The first inhale brings David back to the mountains, that cabin on the hill, chickens clucking in their pen. The hit of nicotine had done little to calm his nerves as Joe shouted at the kommandant in his Austrian-tinged German. David had just about jumped out of his skin when the shot rang out and the kommandant burst from the cabin, bleeding from his neck. Joe had bled from his neck in Holland. He has the scar to prove it. Sometimes, when they’re sitting side-by-side in the truck and Joe’s not looking, David will stare at it, curling his fist at his side to stop himself from reaching out and smoothing his thumb over the puckered skin.

He keeps walking, smoking his cigarette down to the filter. Eventually, he comes upon a church, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stamping it out. The imposing wooden doors are open to let the tepid May air waft inside. David steps across the threshold and the piquant smell of incense hits his nose, olibanum and myrrh.

The church is empty except for a custodian sweeping the floor by the pulpit, but the man eventually disappears into a room at the back. David sits at the pew closest to the door, the knotty wood ungiving against his back. He admires the stained glass windows, cyan and crimson and gold with the pious faces of saints. The apses vault high above him, the air that rains down from the rafters drafty and filled with dust motes. It would be easy to imagine what this place would look like had the fighting swept through here, but David tries not to. It’s too beautiful a church for that kind of exercise.

David let his Catholicism lapse years ago, before the war even started really. His family was never that religious, only attending services on Christmas and Easter, but David prays now. He doesn’t go as far as kneeling on the tuffet or even interlocking his fingers, but pray he does, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment. He asks God, if there even is one, to take Joe’s pain and put it elsewhere, to spare him the anger and the hurt, the need for revenge that undoubtedly itches underneath his skin. He’s sure if Joe knew what he was doing, sitting here asking his Christian god to save a Jew, he would laugh in his face, but David’s not ashamed of it. If anything, he’s desperate. He’s not sure if Joe is ever going to speak to him again, even though he’s well aware that Joe tends to run hot only to cool back down a few days later.

Maybe this time is different though. Maybe this is what finally breaks the unsturdy bridge David has built between them since he missed Bastogne, possibly to the point of irreparability. He sits there, trying to parse what he feels. Perhaps it would be a relief to let their friendship shatter in his unwieldy hands. No more tiptoeing around Joe’s persistent bitterness, his bad moods that seem to bubble up with the slightest prodding. Then again, David doesn’t think it’d be a relief at all. He’s not even angry at Joe. If anything, he’s upset they’re still here after the Germans have surrendered, stuck cleaning up a mess that was never theirs in the first place.

Sometimes, David is so angry he forgets to breathe. Was he like this before the war? He can barely remember. Back at Harvard, he used to get heated in his classes, arguing passionately with his peers about Proust or Dostoevsky, but he knew how trivial it was even then. It was just a game he liked to play, something to make the hours he spent stuck in lecture halls go by faster. He doubts there’s anything he can do here to make the time pass quicker. There’s probably nothing Joe can do either.

With that, David gets up from the pew and exits the church. He steps back into the golden blare of the Austrian sunshine, headed towards Easy’s billet.

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 1

Synopsis: The Doctor notices a student. She notices him.

a/n: thank u to the moots for sticking with me. Yall are the best. This is going to be a series. Somewhat of a dark!doctor ish fic maybe. I haven't planned this far. I have ideas. Will switch between a 3rd party but doctor centric POV and a 2nd party student centric POV.

The sun drew itself in on the cold day, light filtering through large windows in the lecture hall. It caught and reflected the motes of light swirling around. First day of the Spring term. Lots of new students trickled in and found their respective seats. Of course, the syllabus was now online and such. But the Doctor still preferred to give a paper one. He felt it helped students focus if they had it real and tangible…unable to forget.

Just like he forgot so much. A lingering pain….

He started up his usual dazzling spiel. Enough to keep them from dropping out, but not enough to rile them to madness. He learned that lesson early on in this particular charade he was distracting himself with. All he had to really do was keep Missy in the Vault and attempt to rehabilitate her. Humans were such a delicate group to keep balanced. Too much stimulation and they would self destruct. Not enough? The same but in a reverse spiral.

Or just fall asleep.

He preferred it if a few actually did fall asleep.

Allowed him to build a reputation as a teacher. Keep the act up.

He didn’t notice the young woman intently staring, writing down the key phrases from his opening statements. He was enraptured in the normal routine he has become familiar with.

The hour came to a close, and he did a bow. He was to visit Missy again some time soon. Just a cursory check. See if she’d calmed down from her last temper tantrum, where she demanded a saxophone and stated that Billy Clinton was also a war criminal, but made some sweet jazz.

He could hardly agree. She already was a mediocre piano player. And the drum set she demanded earlier lay in tatters in her cupboard.

Being her keeper and therapist was rotten work, but it warmed him. Gave him a gram of hope that she may get better and he may have his friend back once more.

Though, he knew in both is hearts, hope could be a fragile thing for a man to hold onto.

But, especially in this body, he believed in redemption and change. They both had forever to change. They had forever.

A few weeks had passed, and he noticed that keen eyes were burning the back of his neck as he scrawled on the chalkboard. It felt different than the usual glazed-over focus of people trying to write or type out his valid points. It was hot and felt more personal. Less trying to pass a class.

He paused his sentence and raked his eyes over. It was a student with large gold hoops and a few tangled gold necklaces. The Doctor recognized two or three of the symbols used on some of them from his travels through Earth’s history. She was chewing hard on her pen. He could see flecks of her tinted chap stick clinging onto the sides of it. Her eyes were squinted slightly and a slight patch of blush rested on her checks. He couldn’t tell if it was a make up look or some feverish feature of her human body. Perhaps she was in the first phases of getting sick!

He went back to his lecture. Some misfocused student was the least of his concern.

But he still felt her eyes bore into him. Intent on something. He trudged on.

He came to a close, reminded everyone of their upcoming projects and let the day start to rest. The Doctor announced that his office hours were changing to represent the spring coming soon and to “Allow you all to feel the sun on your faces, you don’t know how long you’ll have. Humans usually only live once!”

He scanned the audience and saw her shoving her notebook and that well-gnawed on pen into her bag. Big purse with a rhinestone buckle. Resembled something that Rose or Jackie would have had, he mused.

She slung that and a tote bag that seemed overstuffed and ripe for the breaking over her shoulder. She audibly groaned under the weight. He pitied her. The stressed look she had on her face was oddly enchanting in the light just starting to sink.

He knew she was struggling in the class. She did good work, yes. When he opened up questions and debate, she usually had such pointed takes that verged on mind-racing. Sometimes others would bristle against what she said on the more provocative topics he offered up. Essays and tests? Not so much. She floundered.

She had accommodations for some diagnosis or whatever. He could tell her mind was making connections in a far more tangential way than the other’s either couldn’t or wouldn’t make. And for that he did like her. Enjoyed what she brought to the table. Although, even his brains had difficulty making some of the leaps her brain did.

But why was she staring at him like that today? It was almost reverent. Very off putting.

She came forward to his desk and clicked open her notes app .

“Erm…Professor.” She cleared her throat and started up. “Uh, I was wondering if I could see you sooner rather than later. For office hours. I’m sorry for my late essay last week. I don’t know what’s going on with me. I can’t focus and I feel like I’m losing my mind half the time lately. May I have some insight or whatever you want on how I could do better. I know I’m doing…like, so bad.” She confessed and exhaled on the final note of her punctuation.

She turned a new type of stare towards him. Less intense and personal and more of a thousand-yard death grip.

Her entire demeanor in this moment was very lamb like. A confused air of innocent need to do well, to pass her classes, clouded her.

A weaker man would have felt more predatory, he noted.

She wasn’t unattractive for a human, not like past companions he worshiped the ground of. Of course. He was drawn to them for their natures, often ignoring their faces wholesale.

She started to chew and rip at her pinky nail and lower lip simultaneously…

“Of course,” He said. “I have to go help a friend with something, so I have to talk and walk.”

She nodded eagerly and gave such an appreciative smile. “Thanks!” The words came out so quickly, almost breathlessly.

She trotted along side him.

Once outside, they started discussing her options. She had to work nights, she stated, she said so they were arranging a time to work in a little extra help and tutoring.

He genuinely enjoyed her company and led her to a bench.

“What about your friend?” She asked.

“Oh, Nardole can handle himself.” He smiled. “He’ll not miss me for an extra four or five minutes.”

She laughed a bit.

She plunged her hand into her purse and started rifling around. It was a chaotic sight.

She produced a pack of cigarettes and a tiny green plastic lighter.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to quit, but it’s been hell lately.” She grimaced.

He shook his head, no, he didn’t mind. It wouldn’t affect him. Her, yes. But one little luxury, especially if she was trying to quit.

“So long as it’s your last for a while.” He took the teacherly route.

She lit up and took a huge drag. Closing her eyes he noticed that deep look of exhaustion had given her dark purple and almost black under eye circles. She had apparently tried to cover them up with some make up products and some mascara and smudged eyeliner. She held that breath in for a few seconds. It was almost beautiful.

She exhaled and fluttered them open. The smoke wisped and flew away quickly in the gentle breeze.

“Yeah, thanks. People get so weird about smoking. But they’ll vape? Like, indoors. All the time.” She rolled her eyes at that mildly hypocrisy.

They planned for her to meet up with him in his office on Monday just before the lunch hour. Then turned the conversation to some topics in debate that another student, a male who irked her with his constant urge to play Devil’s Advocate. She had some very often-overlooked viewpoints and a very bizarre way of describing things. It was enchanting.

“Thanks.” She ignored a boundary and squeezed his hand. He felt a holy jolt of electricity go up his arm from the small touch. “I gotta go…you’ve got a friend. Works been slow and I have some…appointments. So I have to make sure I’m perfect.” She elaborated with an almost tic-like shake of her head.

“Yes, my friend is probably going insane dealing with our little issue.” He responded in kind. Missy had probably caused Nardole to melt down or malfunction.

He watched her leave towards the bus stop. Her bags hitting her back as she rushed. Her coat barely covering her bottom and the belt caught in the hem of it. He felt himself feeling almost physically unable to leave the bench. Something tugging at his gut was preventing him from doing so. It felt akin to what River and Clara evoked in him but different.

River and Clara were strong and capable, avant-garde. Self-confident. Cocky. But this student was seemingly the inverse. Very vulnerable and nervous to the point of a near imperceptible, even to him with his keen Time Lord senses, shake and a heart that was audibly racing in its cage. Coupled with her addiction to cigarettes and minor tendency towards self mutilation via near-constant picking and chewing…

Something dark, but heartwarming rushed through his core and took root.

He felt himself deeply looking forward to Monday.

[amberjazmyn]

i'm already there🫶

pairing : max verstappen x fem!reader,alluded dad!lando norris x fem!reader, dad!charles leclerc x fem!reader, dad!oscar piastri x fem!reader

summary : a portion of the lyrics of westlife's song "i'm already there" illustrates the joys, tears, heartbreak and every other emotion in relation to being away from loved ones whilst travelling around the world for formula one.

warnings : reunions, happy tears, sad tears, swearing

a/n : this was written one other time for westlife but i wanted to rewrite it but for f1 since i just want to get another f1 grid one shot out idk lol!

max vestappen:

i'm already there, don't make a sound. i'm the beat in your heart, i'm the moonlight shining down. i'm the whisper in the wind and i'll be there 'til the end. 

you sighed shakily as you mysteriously waited in the monaco airport. you had no idea why you were even in the airport since max, your boyfriend and his f1 team weren't leaving for an international grand prix so, you literally had no clue whatsoever why he had dragged you all the way to mote-carlo airport from your guys' place in monte-carlo. however, your boyfriend had cleverly come up with this plan to surprise you, his girlfriend, with the homecoming of your military twin sister and you were absolutely none the wiser. you didn't even realise this is what was happening because every other time you and your family were welcoming your sister back home from the military, you had to go to a specific terminal hidden away from regular public access so you just thought that maybe max had dragged the both of you here to watch the planes take off and land because that was another thing that you and max would drive the two-ish hour drive from your hous to the airport for. 

however, you didn't realise the surprise you were in for when max tapped your shoulders since you were facing away from him to only turn around to see your sister walking out of the gate towards the both of you. your eyes widened and you staggered to your feet and, almost like a giraffe learning to walk, ran over to your sister. pulling you into her arms, you couldn't believe that she was home. you two had jokingly started to message the song, i'm already there, the westlife version, to one another just days ago not even realising that it was a cute little clue that your sister was going to be home very soon. 

"...you...you're home!" you muttered in shock as max smiled, watching two of his favourite girls reunite - proud that he managed to keep such a surprise under lock and key

"yes i am! i'm home!" she smiled as she pulled out of the hug and held you at an arms length just to get a good look of you - noticing that not very much had changed except for a new hair colour and some new piercings 

"that's why you were messaging me the lyrics of i'm already there? you were coming home!" you chuckled lightly as she nodded her head, quite proud that whilst the clue was quite obvious, it still flew right over your head 

"mhm. that is correct! i was on my way home the whole entire time, the last lyric that i sent you, i'm the whisper in the wind, and i'll be there 'til the end was sent just before my flight left afghanistan," she smiled as you couldn't help the shake of your head as you both giggled 

"how on earth did i not realise it wasn't just a cute little joke?" you sighed, facepalming as your sister and max both giggled as max and your sister reunited and hugged one another 

"because max made sure you didn't look too much into it. your boyfriend was more involved in this surprise a lot more than you think, y.n," the older twin giggled as you couldn't believe it, what masterminds your sister and boyfriend were 

"goddamit it! why am i so gullible!" you sighed with another giggle as you forgot you were still in an airport 

"you're not, you were just so adorably focused on all the planes landing and taking off that you seemingly forgot why you were so confused originally," max perked up as he kissed your cheek as you smiled 

after all the thrill of being surprised went down, you, your sister and max walked a little further through the airport, watched a few more planes landing and taking off before you three decided it was time to get something good to eat on your way home from the airport back to your guys' apartment in monte-carlo. 

but, just as you three stepped in the car, the very song that you and your sister were messaging the lyrics to each other started to play on the radio and the same westlife version. and at this point, you could only believe that it was fate and you felt at ease and peaceful that your sister was home and that she was safe. she was no longer just the beat in your heart or the moonlight shining down or the whisper in the wind, she was right in front of you and she was safe. 

lando norris:

we may be a thousand miles apart but i'll be with you wherever you are, i'm already there take a look around.

whilst you loved being the girlfriend of formula one driver, lando norris, there was only one small thing that you didn't enjoy and that was when their grand prix's took place during the times you had to be outside of europe and in australia and you weren't able to go with him. currently, lando and the other nineteen drivers and their teams were in america for the austin grand prix and the mexican grand prix before it was a two week break before a treacherous triple header which thankfully, you would be able to get time off of study to travel with lando for that triple header. and then after the triple header, you would return back to australia where lando would travel to the middle east for the qatar and abu dhabi races which were the last of the season where you would meet up with him again.

so, because you weren't allowed to travel for these next two races in america because you were studying internationally in australia, you weren't able to watch lando race and be his lucky charm. but, thankfully, you weren't alone in australia. one of the other wags, daniel ricciardo's girlfriend heidi was also currently in australia as well. it was a complete coincidence that the state you were studying in was the state that heidi was currently visiting on holiday alongside daniel since he wasn't needed since he was still the third reserve for red bull. so, what the three of you decided to do was to have sleepovers, going back and forth from the holiday home that daniel and heidi were staying in and the apartment that you were renting for the entire time you were studying in that state.

however, at this stage, you were struggling because it had been months since you'd last seen lando and you were drowning half the time in your university work. and it seemed like heidi noticed straight away as you desperately tried to cram in so much study since you decided you needed a break. only for you to feel as though you were now falling behind when really, you weren't at all.

"...hey, y.n, do you need help?" heidi came up behind you softly, a small hand to the bottom of your back as you couldn't help the trembling breath that left your mouth 

"umm...i..." you trailed off as tears hit your eyes and a sob left your mouth as immediately, daniel seemingly came out of nowhere and gently lifted you out of your seat as heidi pulled you in for a hug as she let you cry

after daniel had cleaned up the desk that was filled with so much uni work, he rushed back over and joined the hug as you continued to cry as they both comforted you. it was obvious you were exhausted and needed a break but you couldn't give yourself one because no matter what, you always needed to prioritise your uni work first and then you were a secondary choice. it was obvious to heidi and daniel why you were suddenly crumbling under the pressure. you were a nursing student who had been graciously given so many days out so you could travel the world but now you had run out of them until after the american races and you were in the long-distance part of your relationship with lando and it wasn't like you could just ring your boyfriend any time you wanted because he was across bloody oceans from you. it was also hard on lando being so far away from you, he didn't fully know how to help you with your study because he didn't know much about what goes on about becoming a nurse. and you knew for sure that being so far away from you was killing him inside every second of every day he was away. so you weren't mad at lando at all, he was simply doing his job which was how you guys were surviving and providing for your little two-person family.

you had finally started to stop the tears and managed to not wake up the rest of the neighbourhood which you were shocked at considering you were not a silent crier, "i'm sorry! i don't know what came over me..." you trailed off before heidi and daniel stopped you from continuing 

"...don't apologise, y.n, you're exhausted! it's hard being in a long-distance relationship and a nursing student with all of this work piled up when your boyfriend is on the other side of the world and the rest of your support system being there as well. i get it, i mean, i have the same feelings when i can't be with daniel and it's hard but, i also remember to ask for help and to stay with friends and family because i know i can't always do it all on my own. which reminds me, when was the last time you spoke on the phone to lando's family? i'm sure they'd love to catch up with you over a facetime call, especially lando's sisters cisca and flo! and even oli's wife, savannah would love it! even letting lando in on this plan would be helpful too, just so we're all on the same page!" heidi proposed as you sniffled and nodded your head with a smile

"yeah, that does sound like a good plan, heidi! i shouldn't have tried to do it all on my own! i should have asked lando's family for help from the start as well as extended family i have here," you smiled as heidi and daniel smiled back as you three hugged again

like heidi and daniel promised, as they all huddled together on the couch away from all the nursing notes and asessments, you rang up lando just to check in with him and make sure he was okay coping since you knew he was also a worrier especially now after the pointy end of your nursing degree was approaching. you could tell almost the moment lando spoke up over the phone that he was also fighting against his emotions like you were. however, you were just glad that he was finally given time to have a full-on conversation as last time you tried, you could only speak for five minutes before lando had to hang up. so, it felt great having over an hour of a conversation with your boyfriend. it reminded you that whilst you may be a thousand miles apart from lando sometimes, he was always there and all you had to was just to look around you. he was in the photos covering the walls, he was in the sunshine that reflected in your hair, but most importantly, he was in the photos that you plastered all around the house so you wouldn't feel lonely.  

charles leclerc:

she got back on the phone, said, "i really miss you, darling. don't worry about the kids, they'll be alright." wish i was in your arms, laying right there beside you, but i know i'll be in your dreams tonight. "and i'll gently kiss your lips, touch you with my fingertips, so turn out the lights and close your eyes." 

you were on your own with your husband charles being away at the tailend of the triple header in japan, azerbaijan and singapore whilst you looked after the twin girls you shared together, jules and antoinette. you were now back on the phone with charles after you let the twins talk to their daddy. they then sat and watched with tired eyes as you finished up the call with their daddy so the three of you could go to bed together in the lounge room.

"...i really miss you, darling. but, don't worry about jules and nini, they'll be alright. we're doing perfectly fine without you but, it's never fun just the three of us, we need daddy home with us!" you sighed with a small giggle as you could hear the emotions in charles' voice on the other line while he was all the way in singapore for the end of that specific triple header

"i miss you too babe. but, i'll be home soon and i'll gently kiss your lips, touch you with my fingertips... it's getting late in monaco and i have more meetings and things i need to be at, so turn out the lights and close your eyes, you need sleep baby! i promise, the race is going to fly by and i'll be home before you guys know it, okay?" charles' voice was soft and filled with so much love that you felt okay with having to end the call since you were basically falling asleep at the mere sound of his voice over the phone 

"ok, it's probably a good idea as i'm basically falling asleep at the mere sound of your voice bebe*giggles*. and i know, it's going to go by so quickly that you'll be home soon and we can then go out to france for a little getaway holiday with the girls and we'll be happy again!" you slurred as sleep really started to takeover as you heard charles' sweet, gentle giggles over the phone slip right into your ears

"good. you need sleep mi amor, you need to also take care of yourself, not just the girls! and deal, we can go to france for a little holiday with the girls, it'll be a lot of fun. but, right now, you need to hang up this phone call and you need to go to sleep and so do the girls because i can picture you guys in the lounge room after rearranging it so you could all sleep together...so, it's bedtime and i'll talk to you tomorrow and i promise i'll tell you everything about the race in our facetime tomorrow at the airport, okay?" charles convinced you as you smiled as nini, the youngest of the girls, cuddled up against you as you kissed her hair before finally deciding to finish up the call 

"okay. i love you, amor. see you soon and, you better tell me everything about the race in tomorrow's facetime otherwise i'll be ringing up carlos *giggles*. goodnight bebe, i love you," you smiled as charles also smiled on the other end of the phone all the way in singapore 

"i love you too, bebe. talk tomorrow," charles giggled as he ended the call before sighing to himself, only wishing the wags could always come with them for all of their races even though it was practically impossible due to having jobs and also having young kids

as you turned your phone off, placing it on the armrest of the couch, nini spoke up, "is papa gone now?" she questioned in her sleepy voice as you couldn't help your facial expression as you hugged your youngest girl tighter 

"yeah baby, he had to hang up the phone cause it's bedtime for us and daddy has meetings before his race tonight with your uncles!" you whispered in a baby voice as nini nodded her head as her eyes started to close 

"oh, okay. goodnight mama. i love you and papa!" nini mumbled as her eyes fully shut and she fell asleep basically on top of you 

you chuckled softly, kissing the little princess on the top of her head, "goodnight baby nini. i love you too and papa loves you as well!" you whispered as you lowered yourself, making yourself and nini comfortable on the couch as jules after patiently waiting, joined you 

cuddling on the other side of you, jules closed her eyes and started to fall asleep but, not before she also said goodnight, "goodnight mama, i love you and papa," jules muttered sleep overcame her as well as you smiled

laying awake for a couple more minutes after your two girls had all fallen asleep, you could only feel excited that your husband charles would be returning home soon. you were also smiling because you damn well knew that you'd be dreaming over your husband being home with you and you were always so excited when you dreamt about charles just because it was endless and it was always an adventure. 

oscar piastri: 

he called her on the road, from a lonely cold hotel room, just to hear her say "i love you" one more time. and when he heard the sound, of kids laughing in the background, he had to wipe away a tear from his eye. a little voice came on the phone said, "daddy, when you're coming home?" he said the first thing that came to his mind. 

you had just managed to calm down your little daughter, ellie and her brother noah that you share with your husband oscar, when your phone started to ring. it spooked you but, nevertheless, you answered the phone and smiled when you heard your husband's voice on the other end. it was obvious he had called you just to hear you say i love you one more time even though you had just spent the last twenty minutes sending each other i love yous back and forth. 

immediately, the moment you picked up the phone, it was as though your two kids, ellie and noah knew straight away who it was that you were talking to and started to laugh and play with each other, not realising that their dad could hear them. you could tell even though you weren't seeing each other face to face that oscar was crying due to the way he was breathing against the phone.

 you smiled sadly as you picked up ellie, put your phone on speaker and her little voice spoke up, "daddy, when are you coming home?" ellie's voice was soft and pure and, of course, the first thing that came to oscar's mind was what he said 

"i'm already there baby girl. just look around you darling, i'm in your reflection, i'm the sunshine in your hair..." oscar sniffled, just wishing he wasn't halfway across the world as you couldn't help your own heart breaking at hearing the upset in your husbands voice 

it was confusing for ellie because she couldn't understand why her dad was crying. especially considering before having ellie and noah, they had never seen their dad be the levelheaded, unemotional person he was before they had arrived. so, she just looked at you in confusion as she handed you the phone. you smiled sadly as you gestured for her to continue playing with her little brother as long as they were quiet. 

"you alright babe?" you questioned, hearing oscar's sniffles as he tearfully giggled, most likely wiping away his tears 

"yeah, i'm fine babe. just didn't realise how much i actually missed the sound of ellie's voice..." oscar swallowed back a sob as you moved into the kitchen, trusting ellie and noah not needing you to constantly keep your eyes on them whilst you spoke with their dad

"...i'm sorry babe. ellie just heard you over the phone and she got excited. she misses you by the way, so does noah. but, they're doing perfectly fine, they're just a little bit confused often as to why they can't see their daddy but can hear him. i forget how intelligent children actually are even though they're still so young, they are way too observant *giggles*. anyway though, i don't want to make you cry even more so, how have the races in the triple header been going, the races fun?" you smiled as oscar again tearfully laughed and wiped away tears on the other end of the phone

"don't apologise babe, it's not your fault, i wish we weren't so far away. and i miss you three as well, but i'm glad that they're doing good. oh yeah, i also forget how smart they are, i accidentally overheard lando and his girl's phone call last night and i could hear their little ones in the background just making their sweet baby noises and could tell it was absolutely breaking lando's heart into two. and, you won't make me cry more, it'll be me that does that myself since it's all i've been doing since becoming a dad! *giggles* and the races have been so much fun and yeah, the media things also have been so much fun. but, i'm very excited to come back home and see my two girls and my gorgeous little boy again," oscar smiled, noticing lando and a few other drivers he was close with giving him worried looks as they noticed the tears but, he reassured them he was okay 

you could hear the three other drivers, lando, logan and alex in the background and could tell that they were most likely checking in on oscar, to make sure he was okay and that made you smile as you rested against the kitchen bench, "you sure you're okay, osc? i can hear lando, logan and alex in the background which usually means you're not okay..." you trailed off as oscar giggled which made you smile 

"...i'm truly okay babe. i was upset and crying at the beginning when ellie had the phone but, i'm okay now. anyway, enough about me, how are you dealing with all of this? i know how stressful it can be on you having to deal with two little gremlins *giggles* so how are you?" oscar then switched it over to you as you smiled, not even needing to think about your reponse

and, truthfully, you thought you'd be struggling a lot more however, you weren't since you had remembered to ask for help this time. since, the first time oscar had returned back to racing after ellie had been born, you didn't ask for help. and you cried yourself to sleep every single night until the last day of the grand prix when lily, alex's girlfriend, had suggested you ask for help and you did

however, this time, you didn't allow yourself to be in struggle town now that you've had baby noah, along with ellie, you had both grandparents, oscar's parents chris and nicole as well as your own dropping past every now and then to take them for a couple evenings. so, this triple header, you were doing a lot better and you were a lot less stressed. 

"i'm okay babe. i'm a lot less stressed this time around. tomorrow and over the weekend, i'll be having a girls night in with your sisters and lily so, ellie and noah will be with mum and dad so, i'm doing great thanks. anyway, where are you right now? last time we chatted you guys were in singapore so, are you boys still there or have you moved on?" you questioned, hearing oscar breathe a sigh of relief that you were doing better than last time as he smiled 

"we've moved on babe, we left singapore last night and we arrived in qatar early this morning. we're just chilling in my hotel room right now all together. so, i'm not on my own this time like i was a few nights ago when we both cried together over the phone *giggles* but yeah, no, this time i've got the three boys with me," oscar smiled as he laughed as the boys all cheered, hoping they were loud enough for you to hear them - which they were 

"yeah, i can hear them, osc*giggles* but i'm glad that you're not alone this time. it's not healthy to be alone when you're struggling like that and i'm glad you've all got each other because me, your sister's and lily all have each others backs when we miss you so, it's good you guys can lean on each other for support..." you trailed off, for the first time running out of things to say since you had been updating oscar daily on everything so there was all of a sudden nothing else to talk about 

"...yeah, anyway, i better hang the phone up cause i remembered that you're going out for dinner with the wags tonight so, who's looking after ellie and noah tonight? my parents or yours?" oscar questioned as you smiled that he even remembered that as you then noticed the kids scream in excitement - their nanna and pops had just arrived 

"that was perfect timing babe cause they've just arrived and it's your parents tonight babe. my parents have them tomorrow and over the weekend!" you laughed as you went over to the front door and let in your inlaws as immediately, nicole picked up ellie and chris picked up noah before they both pulled you in for a hug 

they then noticed you were on the phone to oscar as they smiled and took the littles to the lounge room so you could finish off the phone call, "wow, yeah, that is amazing timing! and, wonderful, well, i'll let you go now babe as you've probably got to go get ready, are you driving or are you being picked up?" oscar questioned as you just loved at how involved he was with everything even though he was across a couple of oceans 

"i know right babe! and yeah, i'm just going to our room now to get dressed since i did my makeup just before you called actually *giggles* and kelly just picked up lily, alex and lando's new girlfriend and is on their way to ours now so, they should be here in like, five/ten minutes, since logan's girlfriend is already at the restaurant waiting for us," you smiled as oscar smiled again and mumbled a "mhm"

"well, i guess its time to end the call then babe. i love you so much, have fun tonight with the girls. talk with you tomorrow, yeah?" oscar starts to wrap up as you smiled as you stepped into your sweet little black dress you had picked out for the dinner 

"okay. i love you so much more babe, and we plan to have fun but not too much obviously! and yeah, talk tomorrow! tell me everything about the races and we'll talk about other stuff as well since i won't have ellie and noah with me, bye-bye," you ended the call after hearing another faint "bye babe, love you" and finished getting ready 

you were putting on your shoes and earrings when you came back down the stairs to see ellie and noah behaving perfectly with their nanna and pops. walking over to the couch, you gave them both hugs and kisses and then gave kisses to ellie and noah's heads. 

"i am so sorry, nicole and chris, i was on the phone to oscar. he's in qatar with the rest of the teams and they have their race tonight. he was a little bit upset and started to cry after hearing ellie talk on the phone, asking him when he was coming home, but, apart from that, he's doing okay and is pleased to know that i'm doing much better this time around," you immediately gave nicole and chris the update from the phone call as they smiled, even though they heard about oscar's tears, they still smiled knowing he was okay 

"oh, don't apologise y.n, thank you for the update. so, is kelly picking you up tonight?" nicole smiled as you smiled, nodding your head 

"yes, nicole. kelly has already picked up lily, alexandra and lando's new girlfriend and logan's girlfriend is at the restaurant already holding the table for us. but kelly, lily, alexandra and lando's new wag should only be about five minutes away now. umm, of course, i don't need to go over the rules with you but, ellie and noah have said that for dinner tonight, they'd love it if they got some chocolate afterwards so, i have two little chocolate bars for them in the pantry that you can give to them afterwards. umm, yeah, i think that's all i have to say since you always know what to do but, yeah, thank you again for coming down to take care of them. i just didn't want to ask mum and dad to have them for four days in a row so, yeah," you smiled at the end as chris and nicole smiled as they sat with ellie and noah in their laps whilst the kids were focused on the kids show on the tv in front of them 

"no worries. we'll make sure ellie and noah get those chocolate bars after dinner and, absolutely understandable, y.n. it's not a problem, ellie and noah are just the most perfect little angels ever! we love looking after them!" chris spoke up this time as nicole nodded her head as you nodded your head with a smile as you grabbed your handbag as kelly's car had just driven up the driveway 

giving one last hug and kiss to ellie and noah and one last goodbye to your inlaws, you left your house out of the front door, closing the door behind you. not needing to lock it since both your inlaws were there and you climbed into kelly's car as you greeted each other, you, kelly, alexandra, lily and reintroducing yourself to lando's new girlfriend, before starting to car up and leaving for the restaurant where logan's girlfriend was patiently waiting for you. 

fin

this was so much fun to rewrite but omg, this was not what i originally wanted to publish since i have a charles one-shot that's really sad but has ended up taking so much longer than expected. so, it's sitting in my drafts after deciding i wanted to put this one out first since it was way shorter lol and because i just wanted to publish something in the inbetween of the bigger charles one-shot.

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Persephone's Devotee (Hello, Mr. Monster AU, II)

Master List

Summary: In the age of Spiritualists and magicians, wyrd winds in different ways to link Dream of the Endless and Aisling Hunt. AU of Hello, Mr. Monster beginning in the 1920s.

Warnings: Implied child abuse/neglect, manipulating children for profit (non-sexual trafficking)

IT'S BIRTHDAY MONTH, BABY. LET'S GET POSTING. My inbox is always open, so drop by with your questions, concerns, and convos.

Men ever failed.

Dream waited for a guard to sleep. For Roderick Burgess to scratch the golden border with his heel in a fit of pique. Someday, someone would make a mistake. It was the truth of humanity, and nothing, even a prison of magic, iron, and glass could last forever.

Years gathered in his keeper’s faces, and his outrage cooled into sharper forms. Intent. Disgust. Hatred even. Wrath brewed behind closed lips. He gave his captors nothing so long as they held him, but new nightmares twisted in his heart, ready to breathe and shriek to life.

The hours of the day made no change in his windowless hold, and he only judged the turning of the seasons by the weight of the coats his guards draped over the backs of their chairs. Their rolled shirt sleeves and the gleam of half-dried perspiration on their brows told him it was summer. Or near it. Persephone had returned to her mother’s sight and the sun glowed warm on the earth for another year.

He’d once pitied the queen of the underworld, especially when she was first forced below the earth, before her mother’s dogged pursuit of justice gave the goddess power and agency in her marriage. Now, he envied her. If only he had family who so cared for his freedom he would not languish in some paltry magician’s lesser hell.

As Dream of the Endless mulled over the injustices gathering like dust in the crevices of his prison, the door to his Underworld swung open. Though he couldn’t see the door itself, the light behind the gate’s bars turned golden, motes glittered like his sand in the beam as Roderick Burgess’s boy – well on his way to becoming a man – stumbled down the steps. His father’s shouts echoed down with him, and Dream’s posture straightened, buoyed by his captor’s distress even as the sun’s distant bloom pricked his heart with mournful hope.

In his rush, the child hadn’t even brought the key, and he pressed his face against the wrought iron, fingers twisting through to keep himself steady.

“Quick,” he panted. “Sykes is out, and the new ward collapsed. I’m calling a doctor, but one of you need to help the Magus move her…”

“Close the bloody door, you fool!” The distant roar cut off with a slam. Alex Burgess flinched away from his father’s temper, and the budding hope in Dream’s chest withered into an invisible wound, leaving an aching pit he rushed to fill with rage.

They so rarely visited him at this hour, on such a bright day. He wondered if he might’ve smelled the breeze if not for the glass, tasted yellow pollen and the ghost of ripening berries were he not locked behind magic and iron.

In truth… perhaps he did feel the heat, the touch of fresh air, a fraction of the world beyond. He sensed the whispered suggestion of wyrd pulling at him, plucking along the tattered place hope left when Burgess slammed the door.

Something waited for him beyond his prison. A step. A link unmade. It itched in the back of his mind like a phantom limb, and he nearly followed the call to move. To find and see. But his pride held him back from pressing his hands to the glass.

The elder of Dream’s two day guards turned to the other and scoffed. “Not here an hour and already causin’ problems. You owe me a pound.”

“There isn’t time for this,” the boy insisted. “She’s not well. Hurry! Please.”

He ran back the way he’d come, and barely a flicker of gilding touched the gate before it shattered behind the door again.

The guard who’d lost the bet rose with a groan, fetched the key from the table, and pounded off to answer his master’s call, closing each layer of security as he went.

Another burst of light and sound as the man left the cellar. Another tantalizing hint of the world above.

Dream did not move as his remaining guard straightened in his seat, twice as wary now that he’d been left alone with his charge. The Endless’s thoughts, however, groped after the phantom sensations he’d stolen with his gasp of light. He chased the thread of his wyrd through memory, looking for something to compare the moment to, but it slipped through his fingers, unraveling before he could reach the solution to his riddle.

He had little to do besides toy with the frayed ends of his story, and he refused to let the question lie, even when the second guard returned, the men ended their shift, the night guards arrived, and the guards of the day came back to sit in the same tableau.

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

She woke to golden sun and dark wood, all warm and clean and entirely different from what she remembered. Someone had changed her into a nightgown, and she drifted back to herself in a small bed in a room with a slanting ceiling. An attic, maybe. She’d slept in those before. But this one was finished, with plaster on the walls and a window with proper glass and all.

And a boy was sitting by the bed in a rickety chair that creaked even when he wasn’t moving. Alex. He’d said he was Alex, and he’d taken her suitcase and asked if she was alright.

“How are you feeling?”

She pushed up to her elbows, peering around the room, and Alex poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table.

“Here,” he said, “you should drink something. The doctor said it was heat exhaustion.”

It took a moment to poke at the empty gap in her memory, like examining a canker sore with the tip of her tongue. “What doctor?”

The boy wrapped her hands around the glass and guided it to her face until she relented and started sipping. It was as nice and cold as the lemonade had been.

“You fainted. The Magus called a doctor. The doctor said you had heat exhaustion.” He laid out the facts the way she spread her cards. Careful and direct. “Are you feeling any better? You’ve been resting here a few hours now.”

“I feel fine.” She didn’t feel well. She felt unsteady and ill, but not like she had before, when her mind grew knuckles just so they could turn white with the effort of holding onto her goal: reaching Fawney Rig and making a good impression on her new guardian.

She wouldn’t make things worse. She wouldn’t complain. She was well enough.

“If you’re feeling up to it, the Magus would like to speak with you. I’ll step out into the hall while you get dressed unless you need my help, and then I’ll take you to him. Alright?”

Aisling scowled. “I’m not a baby. I can get dressed by myself.”

A smile fluttered through a quick life and death across his face. “Of course you can. I’m sorry. We’ve just been very worried. You looked so small and fragile when you dropped in the hall…”

The Fosters liked to tell Aisling she was too proud. She looked too many people in the eye that she shouldn’t, and she didn’t like to apologize when someone took offense to the truths they asked from her cards. Maybe she was. She’d learned she couldn’t trust people to be kind for very long, but she could rely on herself.

Sitting up straight as she could and lifting her chin, she said, “I am not fragile. It was a very long walk, and a hot day, and I am not tall.”

A ghost of the earlier smile echoed in Alex’s expression, which was better than the pained look of concern he wore before. But Aisling wouldn’t accept any softness if she couldn’t have respect first. Sitting just wasn’t cutting it, so she moved up onto her knees to see more eye-to-eye and held out her hand for a second attempt at good manners.

“We didn’t properly finish our introduction,” she said. “I’m Aisling Hunt.”

Alex adopted a – clearly false – somber expression, but he buried his mirth well enough to at least feign respect. More importantly, he accepted the handshake this time.

“Alex Burgess. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Hunt.”

The last name nearly shocked her out of her dignified pose. He wasn’t at all what she’d thought a child of the Magus would look or behave like. Not that there was anything wrong with Alex. He was an improvement on the pomaded princeling she might’ve expected.

She knew better than to ask questions. Open ears and closed lips. She hated whenever the Fosters told her to do that, but damn if it wasn’t a useful habit in new places with unknown faces. Find what was wanted, what was hated, before committing to a path. People would always tell her what they wanted, one way or another.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Burgess.”

“Just Alex, remember?”

“Aisling, then.”

“Aisling.” Another little smile. This one less condescending. Maybe even fond. “I’ll be outside.”

“Alright.”

The boy left the creaky chair and closed an equally creaky door. Aisling found her suitcase in the corner and put on a fresh dress that didn’t smell and tidied her sweat-stiff hair. Too late to make a good impression, but she’d arrived where she was meant to be. She went where she was told, and the Fosters couldn’t call her back even if they wanted. She was no longer theirs – their burden or their cash cow.

She didn’t waste time, barely pausing to sip a little more water to help her swallow down her unsteady stomach before reaching for the doorknob.

Her future waited downstairs, and the Magus expected her.

[sorceresssundries]

Micro story prompt #32 Dust Motes, with Gale <3

The midday sun curled its way around the edge of the thick curtains hiding the sea-facing window. Forceful and unrelenting, it pushed through every crack it could find and spilled slivers of light onto the floor of Gale and Tara’s tower.

Candles had burned down to their wicks. The keys of a neglected piano sat in an impatient line, touch-starved and silent. A bookmark lay gathering dust upon an unfinished page—marked for a later that may never arrive.

Tara could draw apart the curtains if she wanted. She could open the windows with a swish of her tail to let the sea air and noise of the city blow away the haunting silence. She could enchant the piano to play their favourite music. She could clear the dust away in one magical sweep.

But she didn’t.

She would leave everything as it was until Mr. Dekarios, her poor little love, came back to her. She would wait, with her little bundle of collected magical items ready should he need them, and remain settled in her usual place on the bed - watching the dust motes dance in the ever-persistent sunlight.

[pearldog30]

The guys reacting to a period simulator

Ghost, Soap, Hesh, Rudy, Alejandro.

Time for another HC. I just want to apologize why I haven't been active the past few weeks A LOT has happened, so yeah.... But I'm back and hopefully I'll get into the groove of posting more. There's just a lot of personal stuff that has happen, because of it I haven't been in the mood to write but I'm trying for y'all. cuz I love y'all 🖤

Other works 👉 Master list

Warnings| period Related stuff obviously.

Ghost 👻

When you first tell him about it he gives you major side eye cuz he doesn't think it exists until you put it in his hand. He is eyeing it up and down like you put a bomb in his hand or something.

Now talking him into actually putting it on is a whole nother ball game, it took you at least 3 weeks to talk him into it. And when he finally agreed, he was eyeing that little mote control that came with it like his life depended on it.

1,000% is scarily quiet.

Definitely is probably the most calm throughout the entire thing. even when you ramp it up to 10 you might hear him grunt a little, but that's the most you're going to get out of this man. Takes it like a champ

Afterwards though... He won't tell you straight up, but he has so much more respect for you now after going through that hell. he'll never admit it, but he was crying screaming throwing up on the inside

He spoils you afterwards a LOT more/Gives into whatever you want during that time of the month. cuddles/snacks/chocolate etc whatever you want bb, he's there. He will also low-key fight anyone who says period cramps are nothing

Soap 🧼

Oh oh oh... My poor so soapy boy, when you first told him about it he got so fucking cocky probably went a little something like this. "Ha! and what is that little machine supposed to do, this will be a breeze! Ay!" he went back on his words after you were done.

Tries to play it cool and tough. but fails it miserably after you crank it up past 4. Guaranteed this mf is already complaining and whining. "What. No... It can't be 4 you're cheating" says something along those lines.

Anything past 5 he is screaming and whining like a child. (He almost ripped it off at that point, but you stopped him beforehand)

He demanded to hold your hand after that, and he had it in a death grip the entire time. like he was given birth or something he said it was for emotional support.(he almost broke your hand from how tight he was squeezing it)

He shed a few tears you pumped it up to 10 but try to play it off. He is regretting every word he said.

Afterwards though he probably said something like "so Bonnie where's my chocolate" or something like that, (expecting to get his own little period basket for "surviving" it as he calls it.😭)

Hesh🌴

(Hesh my bb he is the most underrated character ever. y'all are sleeping on him, and I hate all of you for it. he needs more attention because I said so!)

A lot like ghost, He never even heard it existed until you said something, He definitely was skeptical about it.

He was surprisingly open to trying it. And wasn't nervous about it. And too much to your surprise he was handling it really well. (With the occasional grunts, and groans, here and there. he tried to man it so hard, but failed in the end)

But when you got it past 5 that's when he started to violently sweat, and he kind of started to get quiet, Which made you a little worried.

He did however! took the controller away from you Midway through because he thought you were lying. and then when he realized, he nearly shit himself that it was only at 7. (Definitely gave you bombastic side eye)

But after it was all said and done, he could not stop asking you if that's what periods really felt like, and when you confirmed every single one of them. he went silent looking at you as if God himself was saying it. Moral of the story he gained a lot more respect for you and other women

He was also a lot more gentle with you during those times, not saying he was before. he just somehow took it a step further, and praised you a lot. Telling you how good you did during those times of the month. (Probably also asked Elias/a few of the guys on the team who had wives few of their own tricks on how they dealt with them when they had theirs)

Alejandro 🔥

When you first mentioned the idea to him he looked at you like you were talking in another language. In the back of his mind tho he thought this was all bullshit what could a little machine do. And boy was he wrong

He wasn't necessarily wasn't open to it at first glance but after a little "negotiating" he finally agreed. And boy were you excited you definitely secretly filmed it

You weren't even on to level 2 when he was asking what level you had it on. This man cannot for the life of him keep his mouth shut either, he was either complaining or talking the entire time. NO IN BETWEEN!

Anything past 3 tho... he's acting like he's giving birth. quite literally saying every cuss word in the book, didn't matter if it was English or Spanish you heard it. you were getting slightly concerned

But once you got it turned up to 7. that's when he said fuck this, and ripped it off violently almost breaking the machine, and smashing it. (He also somehow shocked his hand in the process)

But after (that hell experience he calls it) he picked up his game in doing house chores after going through that. he doesn't let you lift a finger during that time of the month.

Rudy🥺

Now Rudy's actually heard of this before from his sister, who's brought it up a couple of times. so when you jumped on the bandwagon too, he was scared for his own safety.

This poor man was probably a sweating nervous wreck. Since he has a mom and sister he knows how bad it was for them. so he's expecting the worst.

Although he was a nervous wreck, he was violently calm through the whole process. which Low key scared you

I feel like he has a high pain tolerance. So it actually didn't affect him that bad. but still it hurt ofc, and he hates seeing people he loves in pain. But when it got to 10 that's when he really started to feel it, and move around more. (You know those little period cramp moves we do yeah that was him 💀)

Although unlike most of the guys, he was more quiet and reserved about the pain. He knew you had to deal with this every month, so what gives him the right to scream and complain when he could turn it off at any moment, and you couldn't.

He also went to his mom and sister after that experience. asking them what more he could do to help you out.

And that's going to be the end for this, I know it wasn't long. but I just wanted to get something out there for you, I hope you enjoy. and I hope you are having a good day/night wherever You are. reblogs, and comments are always appreciated 🖤

Tags @macravishedbymactavish