#Sydney. Please. Yes yes I see you stop it right now.

[httpdwaekki]

phobia | b.c.

summary: you have arachnophobia but luckily you had an aussie to help you with it.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: mentions of spiders! i tried not to get too specific but they are still mentioned heavily.

a/n: my first request ah! @anjian03 ty so much for the request, i hope i did this justice :) i honestly might write a felix version in the in the future so definitely let me know if that's something you'd want :) anyway! i hope you guys enjoy and as always, drink water, eat something, and take ur meds. <3

my library

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you never liked bugs, never have, never will. spiders in particular, terrify you. no matter how small, what color, you will always hate them. naturally, you fell in love with an australian, which was both a blessing and a curse. 

now chan is well aware of your dislike of bugs, even more so of your phobia of spiders. so when he invited you to go back home with him, you were hesitant. of course you wanted to meet his family and berry but all you could think about is the 8 legged arachnids that reside in his home country.

chan could see the immediate panic that took over your features. you were well aware of how irrational your fear was, and you definitely didn’t want it to get in the way of you meeting your boyfriend’s family but you couldn’t help it.

“you’re worried about the spiders right?” you nod, picking at the now chipped nail polish that covered each finger. you were sat across from him on your couch, head hung in embarrassment. he gently grabbed your hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. 

“hey,” he shakes your hand gently, making you to look at him, “i get it, okay? you don’t have to go if it’ll stress you out too much. you don’t have too, okay?” you quickly shake your head.

“no no, i wanna come.” you reassure him. “are you sure?” he asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty. “yes, i wanna meet berry and your family and see where you grew up.” you nod smiling, squeezing his hand. 

“okay, i’ll be there the whole time okay?” he reassures you. you lean forward, placing a loving kiss to his plush lips, before wrapping your arms around his neck. “i know channie,” placing a soft kiss on his neck. “thank you.”

a few months later, chan finally has a break and you find yourself in the warm city of sydney, australia. you had been there for a few days, and it wasn’t as bad as you had imagined. you hadn’t even thought about the arachnids since meeting his family.

 simply focusing on chan enjoying the limited time he had home with his family. it was nice to see him so relaxed, and carefree, not worrying about deadlines or comebacks, just enjoying life.

and that’s exactly what he looked like now, playing with berry as you helped his mom clean up from the delicious dinner she had cooked. she was finishing washing the last of the dishes as you dried them. you both went back and forth, telling your own stories about chan, laughing and smiling at the precious boy in the next room.

after the dishes, she starts tying the bag in the trash can. you stop her, “oh, mrs.bang, i can grab that.” she quickly shakes her head. “no sweetheart, you’re a guest, i’ve got it.”  you shake your head right back. 

“please? you cooked all day and i think my mother would yell at me if she found out i didn’t do more to help.” you insisted, reaching for the bag. she relents, handing you the bag, “okay, you win, the trash is  just around the house, but make sure you put on the light. you never know what nasty buggers are running around out there.” she laughs.

your blood suddenly runs cold, a stark reminder of the things that made you scared to come here in the first place. you knew she was joking, just a light hearted comment but you couldn’t help but freeze.

she looks at you concerned, “are you okay?” you smile, nodding. “yes sorry, i’ll be right back.” you make a quick exit, finding the side door, making sure to flip the light switch first.

once outside of the door you take a moment to breathe. you look out to the australian sunset, trying to relax for a moment. it was still light out, but still dark enough to need the light. after a moment or two you finally move towards the trash cans.

unbeknownst to you, chan had made his way out to follow you. his mom asking him to check on you as you were taking a while, before making her way to her room. this set off silent alarms in chan’s head, as he was well aware of the presence of the specific 8-legged creatures that you loathed surrounding the trash bins.

as he made it to the door, he hears the unmistakable sound of your scream. he quickly yanks the door, yelling your name. you run into him, letting out another yelp. “hey hey, jagiya, it’s just me, it’s chan, you’re okay.” you shove your face into his neck, hands shaking as you wrap your arms around him.

he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back, glancing behind you where he finds the trash bag on the floor, and the dreaded 8-legged creature on the handle to the trash bin. he places a kiss to the side of your head, “are you okay to wait for me by the door?’ he whispered into your ear. you nod your head, slowly releasing him, making your way back to the door.

he quickly moves to grab the bag, brushing the spider off with the bag before lifting the lid, placing the bag inside. he makes his way back to you, opening the door, ushering you inside. “come on, let’s wash our hands quick, then we can lay down.” you nodded, making your way to the sink.

the shaking slowly subsides as you slowly wash your hands. chan notices the slight shake stil present in your hands. he softly wraps his soap covered hands over yours, stopping your movements. “you okay baby?” he leans over, whispering into your ear. you nod your head, you’re face heating up in embarrassment. “i’m sorry.”

he shakes his head, quickly rinsing your hands before drying them. he places his hands to your warm cheeks, your eyes shiny as they look into his. “you have nothing to apologize for, okay?” you slightly nod your head.

“you got scared, it happens it’s okay.” his thumbs gently rubbing your soft cheeks. “i’m so proud of you, my brave baby.” your cheeks become even warmer. you let out a giggle, dropping your head, shaking it a bit. 

“i’m serious bubs, i know you were scared to go out there but you still went.” you smile, placing a kiss on the side of his mouth. “ come on, let’s go lay down.” he grabs your hand, leading you to his childhood room, where you spent the rest of the night, cuddled together, looking at chan’s babies pictures.

you may never get over your phobia but at least you have chan with you to help you.

do not repost

[arseholism]

[ Wow, you're seriously going to attempt reading about me?? Alright then, before we begin this long and tiresome charade, let's go over the basic information you NEED to know and understand.. ] [ NO! i do not want to subscribe to your OF] [ I don't "want" you. I don't "need" you. I don't want to "come see you". ] [ Please for the love of whatever you love most, do not bother telling me this post offended you]

[ Aw you look beautiful when you’re smiling! Love those shoes too ;) ]

[ Alright, get comfortable my darling ] [ I love people, i just don't find many interesting. So technically, the law of averages works against you.] [ You might be awesome.. please, feel welcome to change my mind ] [ Okay, Lets go. ] [ My name is Arias ]

[ You pronounced that wrong! ] [ I like coffee ] [ I like people. I wouldn't be able to live without people.] [ I love talking ] [ You don't know me ] [ You probably wouldn't understand me even if you did ] [ I'm From London ] [ I also live in Los Angeles, Sydney and New york ] [ Because i can ] [ I travel a lot ] [ I'm 6'3 ] [ I like short girls ] [ Not midgets. Short girls ] [ My dad's white, my mum's spanish .. Incase you wondered ]

[ I love American accents! They’re so fucking cute!! ]

[ I'm English ] [ Yes i have an accent, it's london with a hint of sydney] [ I like it.. ] [ No you probably will never hear it ] [ I've played Piano, Guitar and Violin since i was 4 ] [ I write lyrics and music when i'm bored ] [ No i will not write you a song ] [ Yes i can sing ] [ No i will not sing for you ] [ I love to cook ]

[ No i will not cook for you ] [ I'm blunt so i can be an arsehole ] [ I'm quite nice in general ] [ I'm passive, i really don't give a fuck ] [ Unless i care.. then I absolutely give a fuck ] [ I won't suck up just so you like me ] [ I do what I want ] [ I do not like cameras, in case you’re wondering why my page isn’t littered with selfies ] [ No i will not be your trick monkey ] [ or your human puppet ] [ enough. ] [ Make me smile, make me laugh, i'll get addicted to you ] [ I'm a cuddle whore ] [ I'm attracted to pretty faces and beautiful smiles ] [ I'm a dreamer ] [ I love to plan dreamy dates and sensational moments] [ I have sleep issues. I like my issues ] [ I love to read ] [ I think you're spiffy because you're still reading this ] [ I'm bored right now, so i may NEVER stop. ] [ I LOVE to cook. I even bake my own bread haha ] [ If you tak lyke dis, dun fuhkin tak 2 me mkay? ] [ Right. got that off my chest ] [ I swim, i run, i eat unhealthy, my body is so confused, but it's pretty to look at? ] [ I love music, i have way too much music for one guy ] [ I love kids, i have 3 god children and they rock my world ] [ I'm opinionated and judgemental, however, i will listen to your opinion and i will listen to your side of the story] [ I'm hopelessly romantic ] [ I'm very very very picky ] [ No. I'm not looking for anything or anyone ] [ Romance.. is so misunderstood ] [ I'm broken ] [ No. You can't fix me ] [ Wow. I didn't stop. You didn't stop. We're still here and we're meant to be *gushes* haha ] [ I'll probably adopt. ] [ I'm always bored ] [ I like conversation ] [ I love to read ] [ I don't like pictures, i figure that if there is something beautiful enough, it'll burn into my memory ] [ I however, do not want you to hit on me ] [ I can be very perverted ] [ No, this does not imply i want to talk dirty ] [ Or.. that i want you to talk dirty ] [ Please try not to be too creepy.. PRETTY PLEASE? ] [ I'm also very moralistic ] [ I love my imagnation ] [ I have a major oral fetish ] [ Do we have things in common? ] [ No, You could probably never be my dream girl ] [ I have never had a one night stand ] [ Yes, i'm very picky and fucking frustrating ] [ Are you Captain Entertainment? Sent to rescue me from the trescherous depths of boredom? ] [ Didn't think so.. ] [ I love cookies, they make me happy ] [ I love cold miserable rainy weather ] [ I'm cheeky ] [ I'm complicated ]

[ I'm curious ]

[ Did the brackets annoy you? ]

[ Stupid word count ]

[ Go on.. Judge me! ]

[ Message me if you still want more ]

[carmenberzattosgf]

dword thoughts that border on sugar dword but also no not really LMFAO

i picture that once the bear takes off, carmen gets some more money and i believe that he'd be pretty frugal with it lowkey (ignore his stupid designer plain white shirts) but when it comes to you? that shit does NOT matter he likes spoiling you

when he's feeling confident/cocky, he'd give you his card and a kiss to your cheek, muttering something like "why don't you go buy something nice to wear f'me?" and once he's sat on the edge of the bed, watching you model whatever outfit you chose (dress, skirt, swimsuit, lingerie WHATEVER he's eating that shit up) he's smiling "look so pretty, baby. and you used daddy's card, right? good girl..."

same applies to nails or makeup, gotta use daddy's card fr...and he's always giddy to see your pretty nails wrapped around his cock, that new lipstick you bought smeared around the base of it -💫

💫 ANON. OH MY GOSH. WNGWHAGW. I’m going to restrain myself from over typing bc I still gotta cook on the other ask you sent tomorrow

Content warning: dword ( as you can tell)

YEAH. Once the bear takes off? he will buy you anything you want. You don’t even have to ask for it. If he as so much as hears you mention wanting something he’s going to buy it for you.

And him giving you his card… PLEASE. It’s early morning and you’re standing in the kitchen as he scrambles to get ready for work. He’s about to run out the door, but he stops to grab his wallet, pulling out his card.

“Why don’t you go and buy something nice to wear for me, yeah?” He placed the card on the countertop next to your morning cup of coffee before giving you a kiss on the cheek. He’s out the door before you can try to protest.

You don’t go too overboard with his card. You buy a dress, a skirt, and a black lace lingerie set. Carmy gets home earlier than you expected that night. “You’re home early,” you say, hopping off the couch to greet him with a hug.

“I left Sydney to hold down the fort herself. Wanted to see you sooner.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. Why don’t you show me what you bought?”

Carmy sits in front of you on the foot of the bed as you model your new skirt, and then your dress. “It’s been awhile since I’ve bought a dress. Do you like this one? I couldn’t decide between this one and another one.”

“You used daddy’s card, right?” Heat pulses through you as the nickname slips through his lips.

“Y-yes. I did.”

“Then you should’ve bought them both, baby. I wouldn’t have minded. It’s my job to spoil you.”

“I’ll get it next time, then. Do you like this one, though?”

“Of course, baby. You look gorgeous. Always so pretty for me. Did you get anything else?”

Without a word, you slip off the dress to reveal the lingerie set underneath. “I got this just for you, daddy.”

He groans at your words. “Such a good girl, aren’t you. Lay down on the bed for me. Good girls get rewards.”

DUDE THE NAILS PART. Carmy loves your nails so fucking much. The way they feel in his hair, or scratching down his back. When it’s time to get a new set you go to Carmy for his opinion.

“What color should I get for my nails next, Carm?” You watch him think for a second. Right now, a light baby pink is on your nails.

“How about wine red? That’ll look really pretty.”

That’s exactly the shade you pick at the nail salon. Before you head home, though, you make a quick stop at Sephora to pick out a matching lip stick shade. You apply the lipstick in the car so Carmy will see it right as you walk through the door.

“I got my nails done the color you suggested,” you hold out your hands in front of you to show off your nails. It took him a second, but he finally took his eyes off of your lips and looked at your hands. “I liked the color so much I went out and got a matching lip stick. Don’t worry—I used your card for it, too.”

Carmy takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to give your hand a kiss. “Good girl.”

It’s not long before you find yourself kneeling down in front of Carmy on the couch, with a pillow under your knees. His gaze is focused on your hand as you pump his cock. Carmy’s head falls back in a groan as you kiss the tip, leaving behind a smudge of lip stick.

Carmen’s head doesn’t stay tipped back for long, lifts his head just in time you watch you sink your mouth down on his cock. “Shit—baby,” he sighs. He watches with his mouth agape as your maroon-red lips move. You take him all the way down to the base, gagging slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat.

His hand is in the back of your hair, pulling you off his cock. Carmy’s worried he hurt you. “You alright sweetheart?”

A string of spit is still on your lips as you blink up at him. The lipstick you have on is smeared all over your mouth. The rest of your lipstick had transferred onto the base of his cock. “I’m fine— want you to come in my mouth. Please.”

“My poor little girl is a bit cock-drunk isn’t she?”

“N-need it. Use me, please.”

Carmy’s hand in your hair shoves you right back down on his cock. Both of his hands collect your hair into a pony tail as he begins to fuck your throat. The size of his cock has you gagging around him. The squeeze of your throat around his length makes sinful moans leave his mouth.

“Such a good girl for daddy—fuck. Taking daddy’s cock so well down your throat. Gonna make me cum. You want that? Want me to cum down your throat?”

You let out a moan in response and Carmy’s done for, spilling down your throat with broken groans. He pulls you up off of your knees the second he’s finished, bringing you into a kiss.

Let’s just say… he’s eager to get you to bed to return the favor…

[ilyasorokinn]

omgggg happy 3rd anniversary to you!!!! here's to many more to come 🥂 for this celebration can i please request, from the general fluffy dialogue prompt list number 8 + 9 with mat barzal pls? thank you!

WINNIE MARTIN’S FAVORITE PERSON

this is the first of my tumblr-versary blurbs, so if that annoys you, block the tag 'taylor's tumblr-versary' love ya <3

8. "who let you be this cute today?" 9. "can we wait a second? i wanna take a picture of you right now." (from this prompt list)

you tried to go to as many games as you could, but you had a job so making it to every game was impossible. but, when you could make it to games, mat made sure to plan ahead and make sure you were gonna have a good time.

"you have a ride, right?" mat asked from the bathroom where he was still getting read.

"yes, i have a ride." you sighed. a moment of silence enveloped you and you knew something was wrong, "you okay? you need help with anything?" you asked.

"...yes." he hesitated.

"you can't tie your tie, can you?" you smiled.

"no." you could see the pout on his face as you made your way into the bathroom.

"ooh." you teased, "mathew barzal, who let you be this cute today?" you teased, enjoying the shy smile on his face.

"stop please. just help." he handed you the tie he wanted to wear, but you shook your head, "what?"

"mat, i love you, but your sense of style is awful." you winced, recalling every bad fashion choice you had seen him make. you set the tie on the counter and grabbed a different one, one that better matched the suit he was wearing, and began tying it.

"i should.be offended." the smile on his face told you he wasn't.

"i'm saving you from ending up on people's worst dressed." you shrugged.

he rolled his eyes, "so, before i go, can i see what you're gonna wear tonight?" it was no secret that you loved dressing up for games. it was fun and you liked doing it. you usually had little pieces with his name, number, or team colors. something to show your support, and mat loved it.

"nope." you shook your head.

"what? why not?"

"that ruins the surprise," you told him.

"you're gonna make me wait till after the game to see." he pouted.

"i don't know. maybe i'll be there at warmups." you shrugged, smiling when he perked up, "i think syd's bringing win, so maybe i'll go down with them." she was your ride, so going down to the ice for warmups made sense.

"okay, well, i guess i might see you during warmups." he kissed your forehead.

"maybe." you shrugged, wrapping your arms around his waist, "try not to fall, okay?" he rolled his eyes.

"i don't do it on purpose." he insisted.

you smiled, "score goals." you told him, leaning up and giving him a quick peck.

"for you, always." he hummed.

after he left, you got ready as quickly as you could and before you knew it, sydney martin was pulling up outside your building, "y/n yl/n, you always put the rest of us to shame."

"oh, stop it." you smiled bashfully.

"i'm serious. how you do it astounds me." she ran her finger over the sleeve of your jacket, "doesn't y/n look pretty, win?" you looked to the backseat where winnie was sitting, clutching a stuffed animal.

"pretty." she smiled.

"thank you, miss win." you winked before getting into the passenger side.

true to your word, you followed sydney down to the ice for warmups and helped keep winnie entertained. you could tell sydney was a little tired, so you did your best to keep her attention.

when the boys came out, you couldn't help but smile when mat tossed a couple of pucks over the ice to a few kids. winnie's eyes were glued to the ice as she watched all the guys skate around.

matt skated over, making his daughter laugh, blowing her kisses and even tossing her a puck, which she clutched to her chest along with her stuffed animal.

when your mat finally skated over, sydney took her daughter back so you and mat could have a moment. he smiled, taking notice of your jacket. he spun his finger, and you gave him a little twirl so he could see your jacket.

he gave a thumbs up and a nod, which made you laugh. he tossed a puck over and nodded to a kid behind you, whose eyes were glued. on mat, watching him mesmerized.

you nodded and waved. as he skated backward, he waved and winked. you rolled your eyes before looking at the puck. you smiled when you noticed that mat had signed it.

you turned around to the kid, who looked at you, probably after having seen mat point at him. you laughed before you handed it to him, "this is from barzy." you told him, "have fun tonight."

you turned back to sydney, who had her phone out and was probably recording and taking pictures of the whole thing, "you guys are so cute." she hugged you, "now come on, let's get some drinks." you smiled when winnie raised her arms in your direction, a signal that she wanted to be picked up.

after the game, and an ot goal scored by mat, you waited with sydney and the other girls in the tunnel. you were sitting with sydney, and the entire game, winnie was in your lap. somehow she had gravitated from her seat into your lap, but you didn't mind.

"look, win, there's your dad." you pointed when you saw matt walk out. she gave him a wave, but yawned and laid her head on your shoulder, "i'm tired, too." you patted her back, making the martin's smile.

you waved when you saw mat walk out. he made his way over to you and hugged you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "i'm proud of you. overtime goal!" you cheered quietly, not wanting to disturb winnie too much.

"i know. all for you." he smiled into your hair before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "you ready to go?" you hummed.

"wait, wait, before you guys go." sydney stopped you, pulling out hr phone, "can we wait a second? i wanna take a picture of you right now." she begged.

"fine." mat rolled his eyes playfully, but posed for the picture nonetheless. after the picture was taken, you were going to hand winnie off to her parents, but she clung to you.

"come on, we gotta go home, winnie." sydney sighed, flashing. youan apologetic smile.

"how about this? i'll carry you in the car, but after that, i gotta go." you offered, and she nodded, "all right, let's go." you switched arms and started heading int he direction of sydney's car.

mat walked by your side, holding your hand and talking to you about whatever. unbeknownst to you, sydney, who was trailing behind you and mat, was snapping pictures.

you set winnie in her car seat and waved, "bye, winnie girl." you blew her a kiss and she blew you one back, which you accepted and held close to your chest, which made her laugh.

you walked back to mat's car, "that felt very domestic." he told you.

"keep dreaming, barzal. let's stick to babysitting."

"i know, i know." he raised his hands in surrender.

as you got waited for mat to get into bed later that night, you saw sydney's tag and checked out the instagram story. it was a photo she had taken, without your knowledge, of you and mat walking towards the parking garage, hand-in-hand, winnie in your arms, her head on your shoulder with the caption 'her favorite person ever ❤️ @/yourusername'

mat hopped into bed next to you and saw the post, "you're right. we do look domestic." you smiled.

"let's stick to babysitting." he joked.

taylor's tumblr-versary!

[thebearer]

if we're going for soft dom carmy, what about reader using a safeword and carmy looking after them?

i'm kinda struggling thinking of many scenarios where this happens just because i believe that carmen would fall into the worst kinda dom drop if you did. i don't think it would happen often because he's so meticulous with sex in general (with everything, really lol) but esp when it's a little rougher of a scene- when he's a dom.

i think carmen would be very cautious when you played, especially with impact play or anything kinda rough-ish. he is very careful with watching how you react. he's gotten comfortable with knowing when you've had enough or just the slightest changes in tone.

with that being said, i could 1000% see you safe wording with carmen when he's kinda using it as stress relief. i feel like that's part of his thing, like it's an emotional release and he's in control, so he enjoys the dynamic when you do play.

he comes home just fed up. it was stressful at work, some shitty critic left a half ass review that soured his mood. sydney and richie got into it, and on top of it all, it's mikey's birthday coming up and carmen is not coping very well. he decides to play with you, and while you're a little aware he's stressed, you're not worried about it.

he doesn't spank you or choke you, he knows better than to ever do that when he's like this. but he does something he never does- degrades you. one of the appeals for you, is while he'll call you a "bad girl" or "needy" or "desperate" sometimes during a scene, he's never actually mean.

tonight is different. he's started off rough, no warnings or easing into it. no he's abrasive with his maneuvering of you. which is fine, i mean it's not what you particularly prefer, but you can take it if it helps him feel better. it's alright until he starts talking, low grunts through gritted teeth that leave you whimpering.

"stupid fuckin' whore, you know that?" carmen sneers, his pace punishing with every snap of his hips. "useless. this is all your good for."

you can hardly believe it's your carmen speaking to you, half convinced this is some twisted nightmare you were in. it wasn't, you were reminded, his hand yanking on your hair, pulling you back towards him.

"you hear me?"

"yes." you squeak.

"yeah? you just fuckin' ignoring me now too? not gonna fuckin' listen?" carmen growls, one hand around your jaw, pressing you to his chest. "think you're better than me? know better than i do? you fuckin' don't, alright? don't know anything, just a dumb little slut. only good for this right here. takin' daddy's cock, isn't that right?"

you could feel the tears prick your eyes. any pleasure you were feeling was gone. everything felt so violating... so wrong. "no, carm, s-stop."

"what? the fuck did you just call me?" carmen snapped, fingers curling around your jaw.

"carmen, stop. red, stop." you babbled. "red, carmen, i said red. stop."

carmen halted, his grasp falling off of you, watching you scramble away from him towards the end of the bed.

"baby?" carmen's eyes were wide, an eerie calmness in his voice as he scanned over your body. "a-are you ok? fuck, are-are you hurt? c'mere-"

"no." you barked, lifting a hand to stop him. your knees to your chest, covering yourself from him. you felt too vulnerable. "just... i don't want you to touch me." you shuddered.

"are you ok? do-do i need to do something?" carmen's hands were shaking, every ounce of anger her felt gone, fear flooding his system in strong waves that crashed over him.

"why would you say that to me?" you croak, tears streaming down his face. "what did i... is that how you feel about me?"

"no, fuck, no." carmen's hands are shaking, running down his face. "i-i-i thought you would like that. the, uh, the mean shit. i thought you liked it wh-when i did that-"

"-when you called me stupid? and useless?" the tremble in your lip makes carmen's stomach lurch.

"i-i would never... baby, please, you know- you know i didn't..." carmen's chest constricts, strangling his words. he's on the edge of a panic attack, one he's trying to keep down because the last thing he needs is to be consoled. especially when he's the one who's fucked up.

you wipe your cheeks with your wrist, still shaking with your own emotions. "i... i need you to leave me alone for a little bit." you look at him. "i just... i need to calm down, and... and i don't want you near me right now."

carmen feels like he might sob. the burn in his nose tells him he is. but he nods anyways, tongue too thick in his mouth to say anything other than another apology. he doesn't go to the living room or guest room like you think. no, carmen goes to the bathroom and you hear him retching into the toilet through sobs moments later.

it takes him weeks to feel comfortable even playing a little rough again, and when you do- after you beg him to- he is so careful and checks in every second.

while it doesn't happen very much at all, i think the very few times it does, it would be bc of something like that.

[kdogreads]

maybe grumpy richie x sunshine reader whos also like syds best friend and she comes in and is just extremely nice to him and he flirts w her until syd comes out and yells at him 😇😇

LOVE this! Thank you so much sweet nonnie 😍😍

This is giving suit-Richie, so not that grumpy ☹️🫶

“Hiiiii!” Syd squeals as she’s pops out of the kitchen in her pretty new chef’s coat, “I’m so glad you made it!”

She pulled you into a tight hug and you reciprocated the sheer joy at seeing your closest friend in her element.

“I’m so happy to be here, Syd. This place is incredible,” You shot her a proud gaze and she just waved you down. Typical Sydney to act like it’s not a big deal.

“Thank you—yeah, thanks. It’s been a lot, but let me take you through the kitchen and show you—“

She paused when Richie cleared his throat impatiently, obviously wanting an introduction.

“Ah, right, sorry,” Syd chuckled, “This is Richie — Front of house manager and Carmy’s cousin.”

He extended a hand to you and you shook it gracefully, noting how small your own hand felt in his big one.

“Good to finally meet you, sweetheart. Syd here talks about you all the time,” Richie smiled sweetly at you, and a shockwave shot through your veins.

“Same to you, Richie. I’ve heard a lot,” You spoke confidently as he slowly released your hand.

His eyebrows shot up in feigned surprise, “All good things, I hope.” He ended his thought with a wink and you swear you felt your heart stop for a beat. Those crystal blue eyes staring into yours; you couldn’t stop the thoughts running through your head.

God, he has a pretty smile. And he smells so good. And—

“Well we’ve been friends for like ever and I haven’t given you a tour yet, so,” Sydney trails off, trying to ignore whatever this thing is happening between you and Richie right now.

You tried your best to wipe the giddy grin from your face as you nodded to Sydney, ready to celebrate this incredible restaurant with her.

Syd took you back through the kitchen where you were happy to meet all of the people she’d spoken so highly of — Carmy, Tina, Marcus, even Fak. They were all just as skilled and friendly as she’d told you.

The two of you stayed chatting a while until she took you back out to the table she’d reserved just for you. Dinner service was about to begin and the sharply-dressed servers began seating other excited guests.

You spotted Richie on the other side of the dining room. He looked so handsome with his suit jacket on and buttoned, a new addition to the look you’d met him in earlier. The thoughts running through your mind were downright dangerous.

Your eyes drifted over the menu as you tried to expel Richie from your brain. You tried so hard to focus on the richly flavored dishes on the page that you didn’t notice when someone walked up to your table.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” You jumped at the sweet, sultry voice, “I’ll be personally taking care of you tonight.”

The lights were just dim enough to hide Richie’s wink and your blushing cheeks.

“Uh, yeah—yes! Great, Richie, thank you,” Trying and failing to hide your giddiness, you watched as he set an icy purple-ish drink down in front of you.

“Vodka, sugar-free cranberry juice and a splash of lime.”

You couldn’t hide the shocked look in your face for the life of you, “Wow. You really do your homework, huh?”

Richie leaned in close, close enough you could feel his minty breath on your cheek when he spoke.

“I’m all about the service, baby.”

A shiver ran down your spine as he straightened up, a smug, knowing smirk on his face. You could tell he was about to say something else when the door to the kitchen swung open just a few feet away.

“Richie!” Syd whisper-yelled, “Flirt with my friend later please, I need your help in here.”

She darted back into the kitchen before either of you could respond. Richie’s smug smirk melted into a warm smile and your cheeks started to feel hot yet again.

“I’ll be seeing you soon?” Richie questioned with an eyebrow raised.

“I hope so,” You folded your hands and rested your head in them, batting your lashes up at a swooning Richie.

He simply nodded slightly, smile still plastered on his lips, before turning to head for the kitchen.

You really, really did hope you’d be seeing him later.

[mountingpulisic]

IT ISN'T THE SAME

“mason, what the hell are you doing here? shouldn’t you be on a plane right now?” you asked, dumbfounded by the chelsea midfielder on your doorstep.

when you heard the aggressive knocking at your door at one am you thought it was going to an intruder, not your idiot of an ex-boyfriend, mason mount.

not caring enough to answer your question, mason brushes past you. entering your home as if it was his own, stopping in the foyer.

“tell me it’s not true.” mason demanded, “tell me that declan is lying.”

you wouldn’t have any issue debunking whatever mason was asking about however you just needed to know first what the claim actually was.

“mason what are you talking about?”

“tell me you didn’t take the job, y/n.” you two had spoken at the same time, simultaneously interupting each other.

silence then fell between the two of you, and your lack of a response confirmed mason’s worries.

“why?”

“why? i don’t know maybe because it’s my dream job mason? the job i’ve busted my ass off for the past year? the promotion i rightfully earned?” you scoffed.

you had taken a job offering a few days ago. however, the corporate office was based in sydney, australia, exactly ten thousand five hundreds and fifty-three miles away for london, away from your family, away from your friends, away from him.

if the two of you were still together, you wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity the moment your boss called and told you about the position. you would’ve called mason first and spoke about how much the change was going to affect your relationship. listed the pro's and cons of the move, biggest one being mason. you would’ve decided then and there if your career was more important than your relationship with the footballer.

however, you two weren’t together. having broken up two weeks prior due to mason wanting to focus on the world cup. you strangely understood when he confined into you about it, knowing that a distraction wasn’t something he needed during a crucial moment in his career.

“please just don’t go, y/n. there are other jobs? jobs that are here london?” mason pleaded.

you looked at him quizzically to see if he was actually being serious right now.

“okay, mason. since your asking that of me, why don’t i ask you aren’t there any more chances at a world cup? it comes every four years, you being “distracted” for this one wouldn’t hurt, right?”

mason shook his head, “that isn’t the same, y/n.” he defended.

“why isn’t it the same, mase? because i’m asking you to give up something you love? is it only okay when you do it? not me?” you didn’t mean to raise your voice, but with the anger brewing inside you, it started to project higher naturally.

shaking his head frustrated, mason’s hands dragged down his face causing him to let out an angry exhale.

“you don’t even need to bloody work, y/n! isn’t it like every girls dream to be taken care of by their boyfriend?”

“no, mason it’s not and last time i checked, you weren’t my boyfriend.”

you couldn’t believe the nerve on this guy right now, asking you to give up your career when you were so willingly okay with the fact of him breaking up with you to focus more on his.

“we are on a break until the world cup ends, you agreed to that.”

“a break or a break up? what does it even matter mason?! you’re still asking me to put by career on the back burner while you're off living your childhood dream.”

“yes, but the thing about the world cup and my job darling, is that i’ll be back home, you are deciding to permanently change your postal code!” this time, it was mason who shouted.

you were positive steam was coming from his ears as he turned red from all the anger.

“if you are asking me to choose between my career and you mason, i’m choosing my career.”

if it was as if the words you just spoke, broke something inside of mason. eyes softening drastically, words he was beginning to speak had stopped in the middle of his throat.

mouth gaping open and closed, he stared at you in disbelief.

“don’t you dare look at me like that, because you know damn well you would’ve done chosen the same thing.”

with that, you opened your front door, that not even thirty minutes ago mason came knocking on.

“i think you should go now mason; you wouldn’t want to miss your flight."

part two

[equallyshaw]

𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓲𝓷 𝓻𝓮𝓭 | 𝓶𝓪𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝔃𝓪𝓵 𝓪𝓾 ↠ when are you going to give me a chance? - fic ↠ au masterlist!

warnings: swear words. word count: 1.2k

olivia had been busy brainstorming some jewelry releases and social media content for the better part of the morning. with matt and sydney taking the kids out for the morning and most of the afternoon, she could get some work done that she had been pushing off for a bit. it was now early march, and came out just for winnie's birthday and was spending a week here before flying back to los angeles.

she had just gotten up to get some more coffee, when she heard the front door open and close. "hello?" olivia called out unsurely, and then she saw a dark-haired figure appear. then the figure turned around towards her and she groaned in annoyance. "not you." she complained, and mat grinned walking over towards her. "hey pretty girl." mat grinned, as he walked into the kitchen. "please stop calling me that." she said before turning her back towards him, and next thing she knew he was wrapping his arms around the girl from behind. "missed youm y'know that?" he whispered, "mat i swear to god.." she trailed off and that only made him chuckle. she pushed him off as she moved back to the dining room with her laptop. "you know i love it when you say my name like that, makes me think of that one night." he hummed, leaning against the dining room archway. she looked up from her laptop and glared, "i thought we said we were never going to bring that up." she fumed. he smirked, "i remember you saying that, not me." he said walking over towards her - again. he sat down next to her, and she shifted back in her seat. she pulled a knee to her chest and stared back at him.

"why are you a cocky asshole?" she questioned and he threw his head back in laughter. she rolled her eyes, shut her laptop and collected her things to go upstairs. "come on pretty girl...talk to me." mat said resting a soft hand on her's. she looked at him and sighed, "you're a cocky son of a bitch mat, a real piece of work who doesn't take no for an answer. who thinks that he can do no wrong or that talking to me like im some sort of 'yes' girl is acceptable. im sick and tired of you treating me like a girl that you can charm and then dispose of because im not. and besides that one night, I've been nothing but distant can you not realize that?" she said fuming at this point. "you really are everything I've wanted." he mused before he could catch himself, "there you go- again! i don't find that attractive and newsflash, a lot of females don't either. we find it arrogant and very unattractive." she said ripping her hand away from his, "who do you think would date you or have a relationship with you if you didn't make a lot of money and played hockey huh? your personality certainly isn't attractive, which therefore makes you not very attractive." she huffed, "you thought i had feelings for you right? right mat?!" she demanded, and all he could do was softly nod. she had certainly hit a spot. "well news flash, i do not! and until right now, i haven't thought about you once since i left." she rasped, and mat sat there in silence as she headed upstairs to her room.

okay that was a lie, she had thought about him. but everytime she did, she would end up pissed off. pissed off because of how he believed he could talk to her like it was nothing, and the fact that they had spent the night together after the trip up to the hamptons with her sister and brother-in-law. well not together like that, but they woke up together the next morning. she certainly had stalked his instagram a few times, seeing if he posted anything but other than that- she didn't really care about the dude. but he made her so very pissed off, it made her fume. but the funny thing was, was that she knew there was sweet side to him. sure he may be arrogant and cocky, but that night that they spent together was sweet. he was sweet and saw a somewhat different side of him before they fell asleep with his head on his chest and his nose in the crook of her neck. but then he had slipped out before she had woken and left her feeling with an uneasy feeling in the pit of her feeling.

her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock on the wooden door, and she opened it to mat looking sullen. oh, how she hated that look on him. she opened the door wider for him to come in, and she shut it behind him. he sat down on the edge of the bed, and took in how it was exactly the same as last time. "you left me." she said crossing her arms, distracting mat from his thoughts. his eyebrows crinkled, "you. left. me. in the morning, you didn't say bye. you didn't even leave me a note or anything. how do you think that made me feel, huh?" she questioned tensely. mat was connecting the dots, now. "i know, i know that was wrong of me-" she cut him off, "you think?" she deadpanned, and saw him gulp as he thought of what to say next. "you made me feel used. you made me feel gross when we didn't even do anything to begin with. and i-i never want to feel that way again. i've felt like that in the past and it got me nowhere, and now you? i thought you were better than that. from what my sister and matt have said, i thought you would have never done that!" she confessed shaking her head. "im sorry olivia, i really am. there arent enough good words that i know to really show you how i feel, and for that im sorry. it was never my intention, i promise." he said truthfully and he only hoped that she could realize that.

"i havent been able to stop thinking about you, livi. i haven't been able to get you out of my mind this past month and a half, and im not sure if i ever want to stop. you completely ambushed me in the best way possible, you captivated me in ways I've never been captivated before. you walked into my life with your spunk and red hair and haven't left since. i haven't been able to sleep clearly, ive gone into trances, ive completely embarrassed myself in front of matt and your sister, ive become enamored by you livi. ive never wanted somebody so badly in my life, that ill do whatever it takes to get you to stay in my life- permanently and the right way." he pleaded, pulling her hands into his and softly nudging her to move between his legs. "what can i do for not only your forgiveness..but what can i do for you to give me a proper chance?" he questioned softly, as she stared down at him as her hands found his shoulders. her hands slowly clasped around his neck, pulling at his dark locks- softly.

with a grin as she leaned in closer, "gonna need a lot more than just words pretty boy." she hummed before pulling away.

and there you have it folks!!!

please like and reblog if you liked (:

tags: @toasttt11 @cillianthinker

[ladylynse]

Part 2 of this untitled Doctor Who fic where 10 meets up with Grace Holloway again. Posted for @scaehime, who was interested in more.

-|-

The Doctor jolted awake. He tried to claw the oxygen mask off his face, but a pair of gloved hands held it more firmly in place. “Don’t worry, Mr. Smith,” someone said. “It’s simply a precaution. We—”

But the Doctor wasn’t willing to simply listen. “I’m not signing anything,” he said, albeit with difficulty, and his voice was muffled anyway. “I’m not going to let you do anything. No x-rays, no—”

“Mr. Smith, please remain calm.”

“Calm?” the Doctor repeated, anything but. “Calm? You’re trying to...you…you….” He trailed off. An oxygen mask, he’d thought. But then he’d breathed it, and analyzed it. And it wasn’t just oxygen. At least, not anymore. He had to wonder if he’d even said what he’d meant to say, whether or not it had been heard.

This time he did manage to get the mask off his face. “How long,” he gasped out, “have I been in here?”

“You were brought into emergency three hours ago,” came the steady reply. “You’re stable now. You were in shock. Do you remember what happened?”

“Partially,” the Doctor replied, looking distracted. “Did a Vera Taylor tell you who I was?”

“That’s right. Dr. Taylor has insisted that we treat you as we treated her.” A small laugh. “Like everyone else, in other words. We try to give the best treatment possible. You’re in good hands, Mr. Smith.”

The Doctor thought for a moment, cursing whatever they’d given him. He hated being slow on the uptake. “Did you say,” he finally asked, “that I’ve been here for three hours?” Without waiting for a reply, he continued, “And, oh, three hours is a long time, isn’t it? Lots of lovely tests you could run.” He sat up abruptly, wincing as his movement partially dislodged an IV from his arm. He pulled it out carefully and turned to assess the nurse who was taking care of him. He scrutinized her for a moment, seeing if he could place her face among his blurred recollections of the time he’d woken up on the operating table, but couldn’t. That was a bit of a relief.

“Mr. Smith, I have to ask you to—”

“Sorry,” he interrupted. He squinted at her nametag. “But, Rachel, I’m fine now. I don’t need oxygen, I don’t need an IV, and I don’t need whatever else you were going to give me.” He glanced down. “Though, I wouldn’t mind my clothes, bloodied or not.” He frowned. “That’ll take a bit of mending. Shame. I hate mending. I can take it to Neo-Sydney, I suppose. They’ve expert tailors there. Then again, the prices, and they don’t fancy taking….” He trailed off and cleared his throat. “Still. Better than making do with a costume again.”

“Mr. Smith—”

“Yes, I know, it’s against regulations and all that, but, without them, I can’t show you my ID to—” He stopped, frustrated. “Oh, what’s it matter. I can’t stay. I have more important things to be doing. I shouldn’t even have come in the first place.”

“Mr. Smith, your condition has stabilized for the moment, but I would advise not disregarding the doctor’s recommendations by—”

“Oh, but I wouldn’t be disregarding the Doctor’s recommendations,” the Doctor cut in. “Because I think I know my body a bit better than you, thanks.” He reached for the chart at the foot of the bed.

Rachel smirked at him. “So it’s true. Doctors are the worst patients.”

The Doctor, however, wasn’t paying attention. He flipped from one page to the next and back again, then skipped ahead and frowned. “You’ve scheduled me for an appointment with a cardiac specialist?” he asked slowly.

“Your heartbeat was erratic,” Rachel pointed out. “Even accounting for the shock, the range was worrisome.”

“Speeding up and slowing down,” the Doctor murmured, deciding he’d better not ramble too much in case she decided to have psychiatric check up on him. Twenty-eight beats a minute, then racing to well over a hundred and twenty-eight in an effort to compensate for the fact that his right heart still wasn’t beating. He was lucky he hadn’t slipped into a healing coma. He was liable to find himself locked up in the morgue again if he did.

At the very least, he was lucky they hadn’t cut him open with the intention of putting in a pacemaker or some such nonsense.

“Dr. Taylor was able to pull a few strings,” Rachel informed him, gently pulling the chart away from his hands. “Dr. Holloway will see to you herself.”

“Oh. Right.” The Doctor frowned. He’d managed to walk right into this, hadn’t he? Sure, he’d been debating having a quick conversation with her, and he had landed and set off, but if he was set to meet up with Grace again, this wasn’t what he’d pictured. Him tracking her down, yes, but if he went into the hospital, he wouldn’t have gone in as a patient. At least, not with injuries of this sort. Still, perhaps just bumping into her on the street would’ve been best. But not this. Well, could be worse, he supposed. He wasn’t on the operating table again.

Nearly had been, but wasn’t.

“Clothes?” he prompted, looking up at Rachel again.

“You’ll want someone to bring you a fresh set,” she admitted.

Oh, brilliant. They’d gone and cut them off him, then. He might just be reduced to making off with someone else’s. Again. What would it be now, the third time? There was his third regeneration, and his eighth, and—

“But my coat?” he asked. He didn’t want to lose his coat. He had important things in that coat. Come to that, he had important things in his suit pockets, too. “And, er, you haven’t disposed of my suit yet, have you?”

“Your things are safe, Mr. Smith.” Rachel stood up. “I’ll ask you to wait here while I call Dr. Miller in to speak with you personally.”

“If I going to talk to a doctor,” the Doctor replied, “I would prefer it to be Grace, if that’s possible. Is she free?”

“She didn’t—”

“Brilliant,” the Doctor interrupted. “Thank you. Off you go now, Rachel; time’s a-wasting.” He settled back into bed, waiting for her to leave. She looked startled, but she did as she was told.

The minute she was out the door, the Doctor allowed himself a small moan. Ooh, how humans could stand it with just one heart, he didn’t know. Though, he was lucky they hadn’t tried to give him anything. Probably had something to do with the good Dr. Taylor, that. She’d held up remarkably well, all things considered. She reminded him a bit of Grace. And even a little of Sarah Jane, come to think of it.

But he didn’t have time to think of it. He had to get out of here. They’d taken x-rays. And he wasn’t sure they’d just chalk it up to a double exposure again. He wasn’t even quite sure when he was—something he hated admitting; he had a reputation to uphold, after all—and he didn’t fancy going through anything like 2012 Utah again, to name one of the more recent unpleasant experiences he’d had on Earth. 

Now was not the time to draw attention to himself by trying to start up his right heart.

He slowly made his way down the hallway and a couple flights of stairs, alternately trying doors and dodging into rooms, occupied or otherwise, to avoid anyone who looked overtly official. He wasn’t sure how far he’d get, dressed as he was, but he was willing to give it a shot. And he could always pretend he was lost. It was fair enough, he figured, even if it was, likely as not, going to get him a ticket to psychiatric. Ah, well; he deserved a bit of fun. He hadn’t had as much as he liked lately. The last time he’d gone looking for it, things hadn’t exactly gone according to plan.

If hadn’t been for one wise, stubborn human, he would have knowingly destroyed an entire timeline.

Sure, it had reasserted himself, skirting around a few anomalies, but he’d been willing to…. He’d tried to sacrifice.... He’d….

“These are his things?”

“Yes. That’s all we found his pockets. No ID, no money—nothing to support his claims to Dr. Taylor.”

Grace. And someone he didn’t recognize. He’d better get out of here. Quickly. He could nip back and gather his things, then be on his way no worse for the wear. Grace might wonder, but he didn’t recall carrying anything on him now that she would recognize. He’d even had the locks changed; the TARDIS key was different. Though that was more because he couldn’t stand the constant reminder of Gallifrey than anything else. Still. New key, new sonic screwdriver….

New body.

Twice over.

And he had no right to ask. To ask would be to burden her with his problems, because she was the sort of person who would take the burden without being asked and wouldn’t lay it down, no matter what he told her. No matter how much he pleaded with her. And he had no right to do that. She’d built a wonderful life for herself. Moved on, just like she should have. Because she’d recognized—

The Doctor dashed into the nearest room. “Oh, hello,” he greeted cheerfully as a rather frail lady looked up at him. “I seem to have gotten the wrong room. I was looking for a Ms. Jones?” He phrased it as a question, but spent some time looking about the room, wandering deeper into it—and away from the doorway—and making it clear that he didn’t expect an answer. “Terribly sorry,” he added. “I’m the, ah, man from just down the hall. John Smith.” He stuck out his hand, grinning widely.

“Dorothy Mae,” the woman replied finally, taking his hand. “You shouldn’t be up and about, young man. I may not be a doctor, but I’m a mother and a grandmother, and you should be in bed. You’re too pale. Never mind that this is a hospital. I’m here after my hip replacement. You,” she added pointedly, looking him up and down again, “look like you got on the wrong side of a fight.” She didn’t sound particularly approving.

The Doctor tugged on an ear. “Yeah, well,” he said, shrugging his shoulders a bit. “Wasn’t intentional. Just trying to help, me. Nothing serious. They’ll be letting me out as soon as they can process the paperwork, I daresay. Need the beds, I think. But my friend—”

“If they’re going to release you when you look like that,” Dorothy Mae interrupted, “then I will be speaking with my doctor about the sort of care they’re giving here.”

The Doctor began to think that perhaps engaging the woman in conversation had not been his best idea. He pasted a smile on his face. “Oh, well, no, it’s not the care. I’m checking out. Against their recommendations, admittedly. But, really, it’s just a form or two to sign, and—”

“You,” declared the outspoken, if well-intentioned, Dorothy Mae, “ought to be ashamed of yourself. You’re liable to get yourself killed if you don’t smarten up.”

She looked like she could have berated him for longer, but the Doctor hastily began extracting himself from the conversation. “Yes, true enough; I will reconsider, I suppose, but I ought to go and tell them that, so I’ll just leave you be, won’t I?” He grinned at her and made his escape.

He bumped into someone and tried to continue on his way, but whoever it was caught his arm. “Mr. Smith,” drawled a man’s voice, “I believe you were assigned to room 403?”

“Dr. Miller, I presume?” the Doctor asked, trying not to look guilty. If he’d waited just one more minute.... “Yes. And may I ask why you are a full two floors from your assigned room?” Over Dr. Miller’s shoulder, the Doctor had watched Grace’s face fall. Perhaps she had thought to connect the dots. He didn’t recall telling her that regeneration worked more than once. Granted, he hadn’t exactly had time to explain anything. Common theme in his life, that.

“Oh, well,” he said slowly. “Fancied a bit of a jaunt, that’s all. Looking to see if I could get a cup of tea, to be honest.” Well, partially honest. He wouldn’t mind a cup of tea now. He needed something to clear his head. “And, I was wondering about my things. Could I have them back? Even the suit? I know an excellent tailor.”

“We can discuss this at a later time, once we have you back in your room.” Dr. Miller steered him towards the lift.

“I’ll join you when he’s settled,” Grace said shakily. The Doctor glanced over his shoulder to get a better look at her. She hadn’t changed, really. So perhaps it wasn’t that long after all. Blimey, it better not be before the millennium. He’d be in a spot then. But surely….

The Doctor accepted his scolding meekly, knowing that if he had any chance of getting out of here, it would be better to throw them off guard. And, sometimes, if you played your cards right, and you acted like you really needed something, they’d give it to you. Like shoes. Shoes would be an excellent thing right now. You can only make it so far without shoes. All right, last time he’d made it over to Grace’s house without shoes, but he’d needed the toe tag on as proof, hadn’t he?

The Doctor did his best to ensure that his conversation with Dr. Miller was short. Grace entered shortly after Dr. Miller had finished his scolding—well, chiding, more like, as if he were a child. But when she came in, holding his coat—and it would take a bit to get those stains out—and a small paper bag, presumably his other things, he almost didn’t want Dr. Miller to leave. He regretted being so apologetic and compliant. He might’ve bought more time if he hadn’t been.

Because, really…. He didn’t want to face her.

He shouldn’t have come.

“John Smith?” she asked softly, depositing his things at the foot of the bed and settling down on the chair by its head. He saw the sleeve of his suit jacket poking out from the bundle that was his coat. Excellent; she’d gotten that, too.

Still, he had to answer her question. He hesitated, and nodded once, sharply and definitively.

“Where are you from?” she asked, keeping her voice light.

“Nottingham,” he answered. “Brilliant place. You ought to visit it sometime.”

“And may I ask why you wanted to speak with me, and why you told Dr. Vera Taylor that I knew you?”

“Oh, well, I just….” The Doctor trailed off. Grace was smart, and lying wasn’t his forte in this regeneration. “It’s been a long while, that’s all. I knew you wouldn’t recognize me.”

She was thinking it. He could tell by the expression on her face. Blinking abruptly, she reached for his chart, scanning it. He watched her shoulders fall. “They want to keep you for monitoring,” she noted. “You’ve a bad heart.”

“It’s just overworked,” the Doctor said bluntly. “Temporary. A victim of circumstances, if you will.”

“X-rays inconclusive?” Grace repeated, looking up from the chart. “You’re due for another round, to make sure you didn’t crack a rib. First round was faulty.”

The Doctor was silent for a moment. “Grace,” he said, slowly, deliberately, “may I have my things?” He held out his hand. “Just the bag for now, if you will.”

“I’d prefer Dr. Holloway at the moment, Mr. Smith.”

“Doctor,” the Doctor corrected.

Grace smiled slightly. “Oh, yes,” she amended. “I do recall Vera mentioning that. Dr. Smith, then.”

“Doctor,” the Doctor repeated, watching her hand falter as she reached for the bag.

She turned back to look at him. “I’m afraid, Dr. Smith, that I do not take to calling anyone simply by their profession. Particularly those from Nottingham.” She passed the paper bag to him.

The Doctor took it and smiled. “Well, it’s a bit more than a profession.” He overturned the bag to see what he could find. They hadn’t found much. Sonic screwdriver, TARDIS key, wallet of currently blank psychic paper—pity, that; might be a bit harder to fool them, if they recognized the covering—and his spectacles. Just some surface things, nothing from too deep in his pockets.

And nothing Grace would recognize.

Though, he had to decide, now, whether or not he was going to go through with it. He’d meant to. But then, he thought maybe it would be best if he didn’t. Because the only reasons he’d meant to have any conversation at all with her were selfish reasons. He wanted to know what she’d seen, and how she’d recognized it—how she’d seen what he, and so many others, couldn’t.

A friend had once told him that if you could choose who lives and who dies, you would be a monster. And he’d agreed whole-heartedly at the time. It wasn’t even that long ago. How could he have forgotten that conversation? How could he have turned his back on that so utterly? How could he have disregarded everything and gone and done it anyhow?

He’d needed to be taken down a few pegs.

It hadn’t taken much.

But it was too much all the same.

One life had had to be ended to keep history on track.

And he hadn’t been the one to realize that.

He’d been the one to ignore it.

And then he’d been shown how important it all was, and how foolish and arrogant he’d been, and how wrong he’d been, to stray from that, even once. He’d seen what he’d become.

A monster.

“Dr. Smith? Are you all right?”

The Doctor blinked. Grace repeated her question, moving closer to check on him.

No. He couldn’t just leave. He’d come here, and the TARDIS had made sure he’d come this far, sneaky as she was. He wanted to run from this, like he’d run from everything else. But he couldn’t keep everything inside him forever, keeping silent. He had to tell some things to someone.

Someone who would listen.

Someone who might help him to understand.

Someone he’d touched but not destroyed.

“I’m always all right,” the Doctor croaked, pulling away from Grace. He reached instead for his coat, digging in the pockets. He had some in here, he was sure of it. He’d gotten them the same time he’d picked up that chocolate egg at Easter, since he hadn’t had any for years and he had had a bit of a liking for them. They wouldn’t be too old; a couple of months, that’s all.

“Dr. Smith, you should just relax. Your heart—”

Right. Dr. Miller had insisted on hooking him up to that again. Bother it all. “Is compensating,” the Doctor cut in. “That’s all. Temporary, like I said.”

“You’re not well.”

No, he wasn’t. But he was on the mend, now—if he could just stop running, just for a moment, long enough to have a conversation.

“Grace—”

“Dr. Holloway.”

“Grace,” the Doctor repeated, very deliberately, as his hand closed upon a small paper bag of candy. He pulled it out of his coat pocket and offered it to her. “Jelly baby?”

She looked at him uncertainly. “I was informed that they’d gone through your pockets.”

The Doctor shrugged. “They didn’t know what they were looking for. Would you like a jelly baby?”

Grace’s expression hardened. “Stop it,” she hissed.

The Doctor was taken aback. “What?” he asked, blinking at her. He hadn’t meant to actually offend her. Yet that was how she was acting.

“Who put you up to this?” she continued angrily. “I’m not having it, you hear? I’ve had enough with people laughing at me. I’m not telling that story anymore.”

Oh.

He hadn’t expected that.

Of course, he wasn’t entirely sure what he had expected.

He hadn’t thought about it all too much.

“What year is it?” he asked slowly.

Wrong question, it seemed, with what she thought of him now. “I’ll thank you not to persist in telling tales in an attempt to speak to me again,” she said sharply, rising to her feet. “Good day, Mr. Smith.”

“Doctor,” he corrected again.

She glared at him. “Dr. Smith, then. Good day.”

“I’d missed you, Grace,” he said truthfully. “But I’d still thought that I was doing the right thing by not coming back. After you’d made your choice, I mean.”

It wasn’t enough to catch her attention, and she started out the room, ignoring him.

And, well, now that he’d made the decision to talk to her, he wanted to talk to her.

So he made sure that he did catch her attention. “The Master survived, you know. Getting sucked into the Eye. But she’s closed now. Room’s locked, good and tight. Even I can’t get into it. Don’t think I will, unless circumstances change.”

She turned back at the doorway to look at him. “How long?” she asked, her voice still cold.

“Pardon?”

“How long have you spent listening to my stories, gathering every bit of information from every story I’ve ever told the children in the recovery ward? And why do you insist on patronizing me?”

She was defensive. Hurt.

Because of him.

Because she’d believed in him and had told her story.

He’d still managed to….

“I’m sorry,” he said, genuinely contrite. “I am so, so sorry, Grace. I didn’t know.”

“Dr. Holloway,” she corrected, but her voice had softened slightly.

And then she was gone.

(Part 3)

[readingwiththereids]

yanda! speaks: hello my pretties! as promised, here is chapter 2! again, minimal carm so i’m sorry but we do get to see camila interact with the rest of the gang <3 hope you like it, don’t forget to like and reblog! lots of love and light 🤎

masterlist

night rain ; chapter 2

2022

Emilia was hyper and extremely difficult to tire out. Even after a two-hour trip to the park filled with nonstop monkey bars and swings, the young girl still always had another activity in mind for her and her mother to do. And that was why Camila was currently trying to stop Emilia from jumping from couch to chair and cracking her head open as they played “pirates”.

“Emmy, I swear to God if you jump, I won’t make you pudding for a week.” Camila yelled as she eyed her daughter sternly.

As the toddler huffed and sat down on the arm of the couch, a muffled ringtone sounded from under the pile of toys on the living room floor prompting Cam to rush to answer. It was Tina.

“Mami? ¿Qué pasó?” [What happened?]

“Why would you assume something happened, Camila? What if I just wanted to hear your voice?”

“Because when I tried to call you during the day last week you told me to, and I quote, ‘hop off your dick’.”

“Okay but that was different, I actually want something from you now.”

“So you do need something.” Camila chuckled into the speaker.

“Yes. Yes, whatever, God you’re just as bad as the new girl.”

“Who?” 

“No one. Could you please be my darling daughter and bring me one of my extra clean aprons? Your boyfriend won’t stop yelling at me about it.”

Ignoring the way her mother referred to Carmy, Camila replied watching Emilia start to yawn on the couch, “Are you aware that your darling daughter is also the mother to a two-year-old?” 

“Isn’t it nap time? Just bring her with, she can sleep in the car.”

A pause.

“Will you take care of her on Friday during the gala?” 

^^^^^^^^^

“I’ll be right back.” Camila whispered as she exited and locked her child in the car.

5 minutes. Just 5.

The woman thought as she hesitantly walked through the door of The Beef before being met with almost half a dozen bodies hovering around what seemed to be sandwiches.

“Cam?” 

Marcus spotted her first, immediately walking around the group to engulf her in a huge bear hug. Suddenly everyone was surrounding her. She couldn’t even count how many hugs, kisses on the cheek and pats on the back she received from her chosen family. The commotion obviously summoned the king of noise and ruckus himself, Richie and an unknown girl with multi-coloured braids trailing behind him. 

“As I live and breathe!” Richie’s voice boomed through the front of house.

“Hey, Cousin.” Camila laughed as he picked her up and spun her around.

“Feel like I haven’t seen you in ages, Mini.”

“Likewise,” she said before turning to the girl she had yet to be introduced to. “Camila, nice to meet you.” she smiled.

“Hi! My name’s Sydney, I’m staging today.”

“Awesome, I hope everyone’s made you feel welcome.” 

Angel stepped in, clearing up the confusion on Sydney’s side. “Cam is Tina’s daughter.” 

“And Carmen’s ex-girlfriend.” Ebra loudly whispered.

“Ebraheim, you know you can’t whisper.” Tina rolled her eyes, slapping his arm.

Breaking the awkwardness, Sweeps walked up to Camila with a sandwich in his hand. “Yo, you gotta try this.”

“Holy shit, this is fu-”

“Fucking fire, we know!” Richie groaned. “I don’t know why you all act like Cousin shits out a golden egg every time he makes something, nothing is that good!”

“Well, have you tried it, Richard?” Camila asked.

The scruffy man paused before shaking his head as if that was one of the most absurd questions anyone had ever dared to utter in his presence.

“Exactly,” Cam continued. “Also, I’ve seen you eat a slice of pizza off the floor in the middle of Millennium Park, so I’m not entirely sure if your standards are up to code, Rich.”

That statement resulted in many exclaims and expressions of disgust, amusement and pure shock which were all interrupted when the kitchen door slammed open.

“Alright! Everyone stop standing around, we only have an hour left till-”

When Camen looked up from his phone and saw the very reason his employees refused to get back to work, he froze. Believe it or not, this was the first time in three years that he had seen Camila’s face. After she left, she never told him where she went, removed him from all her social media, left some money for him to pay off their apartment and basically disappeared off of the face of the earth. It hit him hard at first but he soon realised that he had to just keep going, keep himself busy, which his career did a fine job at. 

However, it still felt weird seeing her again. Not exactly like reopening an old wound but rather reminding him of one that never really healed, that he’d just forgotten was still hurting.

Due to his train of thought, Carmy failed to notice that the room had almost entirely cleared out, leaving just him and the woman he’d been in love with once (and honestly was still in love with).

“Hi.” he eventually croaked out.

“Hi.” she smiled sadly.

yanda! speaks (again): cam in her bad mom era tbh. like girl why are you leaving your child in the car in the middle of river north?? 🤨

🏷️ list: @rexorangecouny @louderfortheback

[dm me to get on the tag list :b]

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Altitude - Chapter 3

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!OC

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x F!OC

Summary: Sydney is not a pilot. But she knows all their tricks. That's why, when she meets the smooth-talking Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, she's not falling for any of them. She's not falling for him, either.

CW: Love triangle, angst, marital conflict, SLOW BURN

Start from the beginning: Part I

Sydney waits for her father in the hangar, her eyes languidly following his Super Hornet as it takes a dive before pulling a sharp climb to surprise two unsuspecting jets. She purses her lips and smiles slightly as the other two F/A-18s turn to head back to base, presumably after being hit.

Sydney has witnessed enough of her father’s flying to know which plane is his when he’s in the cockpit. She rolls her eyes with a sigh watching him do a series of rolls over the dark blue waters of the Pacific Ocean. She hasn’t seen her father in two years. And yet, not much has changed.

“Oh,” she hears a voice from behind. “It’s you.”

Sydney turns her head and, upon seeing Rooster, she lets out a chuckle. “So, you’re a pilot,” she says, sounding almost disappointed.

He stops walking a few feet away from her, looking out at the field with his arms crossed. “Did you think Rooster was my given name?”

She shrugs. “A girl could dream.”

Rooster raises his eyebrows and smirks at her. “Are you dreaming about me already?”

She laughs. “Yes but, in my dreams, we’re nowhere near North Island and you bear no resemblance to my father.” She eyes his green flight suit with a slight grimace.

He grins. “Damn, that last part was supposed to be my line.”

Sydney struggles to suppress her smile. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’m nothing like him.”

Rooster nods. “In that case,” he says, “I won’t hold the fact that you’re related to him against you.”

She lets out a bitter chuckle. “I don’t know,” she muses. “I’d run for the hills, if I were you.”

Rooster looks over at her and his grin widens. “I don’t run,” he says, walking out backwards onto the tarmac, still facing her. “I fly.”

Sydney laughs, shaking her head, as he slides his Ray-Bans over his eyes and heads for the string of fighter jets parked along the flight line.

…

“How’s your mother?” Maverick asks, nodding at the server who’s just brought two menus to the table.

Sydney glances at him stoically. “Can we not do this, please?” she says.

“Do what? I’m not doing anything,” Maverick replies.

“You want to know how she’s doing? Call her and ask.”

Maverick sighs. “So,” he says. “You’re angry.”

Sydney scoffs. “Anger would imply that I care.”

Maverick leans his head onto his fist, eyeing her skeptically. “What do you want me to say, Syd?”

“Do you have to say anything?” she asks, taking a sip of water. “Look, I just need a place to crash for the next few weeks.”

“You can stay as long as you want – you know that,” he says.

Sydney rolls her eyes. “Right, assuming you’re not going anywhere.”

Maverick presses his lips together. “Even if I go somewhere, you can stay,” he says.

Before Sydney could determine whether or not to thank him, a party of officers enters the bar and, upon seeing Maverick, the throng heads right in the direction of their table.

“Captain!” a man hollers at the top of his lungs as he approaches Maverick. His eyes slide to look at Sydney and he raises his eyebrows at her. “Captain’s… really good-looking dinner date.” The man pulls up a chair, grinning at Sydney.

Behind him, Sydney could see Rooster’s expression sour at the man’s behavior.

“I’m Jake,” he says with a wide, charismatic grin, and holds out his hand to her.

“Seresin, not now,” Maverick warns.

“But you can call me Hangman,” he continues, winking at Sydney.

“Why would I call you Hangman?” Sydney says, making a face.

Rooster gives her an amused look before lowering himself into another chair, taken from an adjacent table.

“Because it’s my callsign, pretty lady.” Hangman smirks.

“Seresin,” Maverick says loudly, and all the officers now at the table – except for Rooster, who is still watching Sydney – turn to look at him. “Meet my daughter, Sydney.”

“Shit,” Hangman mutters, rubbing his chin.

Sydney gives Hangman a tight smile and turns to look at Rooster. “How was your hop?” she asks.

Rooster cringes and Hangman laughs. “Let’s just say, he got a good workout,” Hangman says.

“They all did,” Maverick comments and Rooster’s jaw visibly tightens.

Sydney raises her eyebrows as Hangman starts flexing his biceps. The woman standing behind him rolls her eyes and takes a seat at their now extremely crowded table.

“Wait,” Hangman says. “How do you know Rooster?” he asks.

Sydney glances at Rooster with a mischievous grin. “Oh, Rooster and I go way back,” she says.

Rooster smiles slightly. “That’s actually not false,” he says, his gaze shifting to Maverick.

“Hi.” The woman to Hangman’s left reaches across the table to offer her hand. “I’m Natasha. You can call me Phoenix.”

Sydney smiles at Natasha and shakes her hand. “Callsign?” Sydney asks resignedly.

“Stage name,” Hangman responds, winking at Natasha with a smirk.

Natasha scoffs at him. “This is Bob,” she continues, pointing to the only man in their group who is still standing – the rest have all shamelessly usurped chairs from surrounding tables and squeezed in to join Sydney and Maverick at theirs.

Bob holds out his hand. “You can call me Bob,” he says.

Sydney pulls in her lips to keep from laughing. “You are a breath of fresh air, Bob.”

Bob returns her grin sheepishly.

Maverick leans back in his seat with a sigh, signaling the server. “I think we’re going to need more menus,” he says.

…

After dinner, Maverick rises from his seat. He pulls a key from his keyring and hands it to Sydney. “See you later,” he says, his eyes lingering first on Hangman and then on Rooster. “Behave, boys,” he cautions.

“We’ll get her home, don’t worry, Captain,” Hangman says, dropping his arm over Sydney’s shoulders.

Sydney shrugs his arm off, saying, “I’ll get myself home.”

Rooster pulls his lips into a tight grin, glancing at Sydney fondly.

Maverick smirks, shaking his head. “Man, this brings back memories,” he says with amusement.

Sydney cocks an eyebrow at him.

After Maverick leaves, Hangman hops up and strides over to the jukebox.

“Here we go,” Natasha says wryly. “Watch out for this guy,” she says to Sydney.

Sydney purses her lips. “I watch out for everybody.” Her gaze slips to catch Rooster observing her carefully. He looks away the moment their eyes meet.

When the music starts, Hangman returns and offers Sydney his hand. “Do you dance?” he asks, smiling.

Sydney bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes searching for Rooster’s face in the background, but he’s not looking at her anymore. She lets out a reluctant sigh and places her hand in Hangman’s.

His grin widens and he pulls her out of her seat effortlessly, putting his other hand on her waist and bringing her closer as they move away from the table.

Dancing with Hangman is nothing like dancing with Rooster. Jake clutches Sydney’s hips with both hands, the pressure of his fingers consistent with the hungry look in his eye. He brings his face closer to hers and holds her body against his, his enticing smirk hovering over her lips tantalizingly.

Sydney brings her hands behind his neck, her nails gently grazing his skin. He chuckles, lowering his face so that his nose brushes over her cheek, and says, “We should get out of here.”

Sydney laughs quietly. “You’re the one who asked me to dance. We can’t leave until the song is over.”

“That’s a dumb rule,” Jake replies, his tongue skimming the tip of her ear.

All of the sudden, the song cuts out and Sydney looks up, pulling herself out of his grasp. Jake groans. “Bradshaw, I’m going to kill you,” he growls.

Sydney looks at Hangman sharply. “Did you say Bradshaw?”

Hangman narrows his eyes. “Yeah, why?”

And then she hears the piano.

Read Chapter 4

Tag List (Please Read):

Hey guys! Since this will be a longer fic and most of you are being tagged in it simply because you're on my general Rooster list, I'll stop tagging you after this chapter. I don't want to be spamming you now that you know this story exists. If you'd like to be tagged for the rest of it, just let me know and I'll put you back on the list. You can comment or message me, whichever you prefer! This story will probably have 20+ chapters and it seems silly to be tagging all of you for all 20+ if you haven't requested it specifically. I don't want to get annoying haha I'll continue to tag you in the rest of my new Rooster stories!

If you're already signed up for the Altitude list specifically, I'll keep tagging you! But you can always let me know if you want out XD

@atarmychick007

@wandering-wah

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@nc-1-7

@birdy-bat-writes

@matya4

@alexxavicry

@army24--7

@emmy626

@thefandomimagines

@dracosluvbot

@scenesofobx

@Criminalmindsandmarvel

@lunamoonbby

@simp-for-fictional-people

@ollyoxenfrees

@iamabeautifulperson18

@living-in-my-imagination88

@wintercap89

@mavrellover91

@gingerbreadandpaper

@lonelywitchv2

@cashwheelersgirl89

@callsign-jupiter

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@everything-i-love-in-life

@malindacath

@rosiahills22

@olliepig

@m1llydins

@emilyniamh3679-blog

@footwatter

@books-for-summer

@harper1666

@coffeeaddictedmay

@diabeticgoth

@katiebby04

@problematic-420

@wishfulhope

@elizabitchsshit

@inarabee

@boringusername3

@zombiedixon89

@izz-ayes-world

@ratedtvpg

@mak-32

@sunnysofia

@a-nostalgic-disaster

@aaliyahjovel

[fluentmoviequoter]

hey, since you are taking requests and I can’t seem to get enough of victor vale, could you write a victor x reader story where reader gets gravely injured by eli and dies but victor brings her back and she becomes an EO?<3

Thank you so much for requesting! You didn't specify what power the reader gets so I decided on the ability to control weapons; hope that's okay! Please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy!!🤍

Warnings: spoilers for Vicious (and a changed ending w/ the final line of the book), descriptions of injury/torture (punching, slapping, stabbing), threats, murder/death, reader is revived becomes an EO, Victor is kind of a softie?, a little fluff I think. I feel like these warnings make it sound worse or more violent than it is.

Word Count: 3.5k+ words

Back to Life

When you decided to walk around Merit and clear your head, you didn’t expect everything to go this horribly wrong. What was supposed to be a lap around the block before returning to the Esquire Hotel turned into a suicide mission. And no one knows where you are or what he’s doing, or so you think.

✯✯✯✯✯

“I can’t think anymore, Victor,” you plead. “We’ve been in this room for days, just let me walk around and I’ll surely come up with an idea while I’m gone.”

“It’s too dangerous,” Victor argues.

“We know Eli’s here. What if he knows who you are?” Sydney asks quietly.

“How could he? Victor, think about it, I’m the only one here that Eli hasn’t seen. If any of us can go outside, it’s me. Just a few minutes; I can get Mitch’s chocolate milk and anything else we need.”

Victor sighs and rubs his hands down his face before conceding. “Ten minutes. One more and I come looking for you. And trust me, you don’t want me to have to come find you.”

“Thank you,” you say, heading for the door. “I’ll be careful and I’ll be right back, I promise.”

The door closes, and Mitch sighs before asking, “And if she doesn’t keep the promise?”

“She won’t break it on purpose,” Victor points out. “Someone breaks it for her, though, and I expand the known pain scale.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You feel like someone is watching you as soon as you enter the hotel lobby; you ignore it because it's a crowded city, so people are probably looking around. Walking out of the hotel, you take a deep breath of fresh air before turning right. When you arrived in Merit a few days ago, you noticed a small store sure to have chocolate milk and the few items Sydney requested. Nearing the store, you still feel like you’re being watched. You turn around to see if anyone looks out of the ordinary but don’t see anything and tell yourself to stop being paranoid. When you turn back around, you see a fake smile, one you recognize from Victor’s pictures, before everything goes dark.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Stop pacing,” Mitch demands, trying to focus on his laptop. “She said ten minutes, it hasn’t been ten yet.”

“Sydney was right, I shouldn’t have let her go,” Victor snaps, stopping just long enough to speak before grabbing his coat from the back of the couch. “I’m going to find out where she is.”

“Eli doesn’t know her, Victor.”

“He knows more than you think, Mitch. I’m good at figuring things out, I figured him out incredibly quickly, but we don’t know anything. Yes, he’s killing EOs but if he decided to keep a few alive and recruited them, somehow, this game is over for us. We only win by keeping the element of surprise. So, stop trying to tell me she’s fine when you don’t know either.”

The door slams before Mitch can respond, so he sighs and shakes his head before clicking his track pad and returning to his previous task.

“He didn’t promise to come back this time,” Sydney says quietly.

“He will,” Mitch responds, turning to face her. “Victor Vale always comes back. He’s been planning this for too long to let anything get in the way now. After waiting so long, he’s not missing his chance.”

“I hope you’re right,” Sydney whispers. “Because if Eli does know about her, I don’t think those plans are going to matter.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Wake up,” someone demands, pulling your head to one side.

You wake with a start, but something holds you in place. The coppery tang of blood fills your nose and mouth as you feel it running down your face. Twisting your wrists, the rope surrounding them cuts into your skin. Hissing in pain, you force your eyes open.

“I’m not big on introductions, but tell me your name and this goes faster for you,” Eli says, twisting a silencer onto a gun as he leans back against a table across the room for you.

“Where are we?” you ask thickly, your tongue moving slowly against the swelling around your face.

Eli cocks his head, and his jaw tics as he trades the gun for a knife. Spinning the handle and pointing the blade at you, he walks toward you until the knife is an inch away from your chest.

“Your name,” he repeats, his voice low.

“Are you mad I know something you don’t?” You’re doing the one thing Victor told you bothered Eli: fighting him. But when he’s this close, you can’t help it. “Because I know your name, Eli Cardale.”

He swings his hand, his knuckles making contact with your cheekbone before the back of the blade scrapes across the same path. Your head jerks to the side, and you feel the warmth of new blood pooling under your eye before it runs down your cheek.

“Is this how you want to play this?” Eli asks.

Your chest heaves as you wish you could fight him, wanting nothing more than to take his weapons and level the playing field, if only slightly. He raises the knife and brings it down to your leg when you don’t answer. Screaming at the feeling of the knife entering your thigh, the desperate need to take his weapons and gain some control becomes overwhelming and seems to numb the pain.

“Answer the question.”

“You’re the only one playing, Eli. Are you really this jealous of Victor?” you ask, provoking him further. You can’t help it when you spit, “Cardale.”

✯✯✯✯✯

The door slams again, and Victor throws a file onto Mitch’s keyboard.

“Find them,” he demands. “Now.”

Mitch opens the file and sees numerous pictures of you in different places. Some are with him, Victor, or Sydney, and some are just you, but all have been taken in the last week or so. Since you started traveling with Victor and helping him plan his revenge. The final picture looks fresh, the ink smudged from being placed in the folder. It’s also the most concerning: you’re tied to a chair and looking far worse than when you left just half an hour ago. In an instant, it feels like you’ve been gone a lifetime.

“I’m on it,” Mitch promises, setting the picture beside his laptop as he brings up building schematics and security cameras for the neighborhood.

“What happened?” Sydney asks, walking up behind Victor and Mitch.

Victor turns quickly and raises a hand to stop her. “You don’t need to see those… Eli found her.”

Sydney’s eyes widen as she looks at Victor. “I said he didn’t know. I said everything would be okay.”

“Sydney, hey,” Victor says, bending over to catch her eyes and her attention. “It’s not your fault. We all knew the risks, but now we need to focus on getting her back.”

“I think I know where she was going,” Sydney offers.

“Good. That’s a start.”

“Where?” Mitch interjects.

Sydney tells him the store name, and he maps a walking route, using the mapping software’s street view function to see it as you did.

“There’s an alley between here and the store. Backs up to an abandoned sheet metal factory, right across from the Falcon Price project,” Mitch explains, looking up to see Victor.

Victor stares at the screen, his jaw clenched as his hands form fists. His rage is muted, and Mitch can’t decide if that is better or worse than his previous outbursts.

“I’m going alone,” Victor announces. “If I need backup, you’ll know.”

“What does that mean?” Sydney asks as the door closes yet again.

“If you start feeling pain, he’s not winning,” Mitch answers. “Let’s hope he still has the element of surprise.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You don’t see Eli anymore, just his weapons. The knives, ranging in size from a pocket knife to a butcher’s knife, the guns, and, possibly the worst, but thus far untouched, the hammers. With no control and no escape, your mind wonders what you would do if you could get one of those weapons away from him. Kill him? He’d heal, but it might give you time to get away.

“Just tell me who you work for,” Eli says, wiping your blood from a small carving knife.

You glance down at your wrist and see a small ‘V’ carved into it. A weird decision on Eli’s part, but the reminder of Victor serves you well.

“Well, that depends,” you say, your words slurring together because of the blood loss. “My first job was-”

Eli cuts you off, placing a hand on your left shoulder as the other punches you in the stomach. All of the air rushes out of your lungs, and you cough up blood, each movement making the pain sharpen. Eyeing the weapons, you try to cause one of the triggers to press with your mind, sending a bullet into Eli’s spine. It doesn’t work, of course, but Eli follows your line of sight and smiles to himself. He picks up the knife and holds it up to show you.

“You like this one? I do, too,” Eli says dramatically.

“Then use it on yourself,” you reply.

Eli rolls his eyes before footsteps echo outside. He walks around you, stopping behind you. Without visual of him, you panic, pulling against the restraints and thinking of nothing but inflicting a sliver of the pain he’s put you through. Rounding the chair you’re tied to again, his hand lands on your shoulder again before the knife plunges into your stomach.

Barely feeling the pain, you watch the knife fall to the floor as Eli runs. Your mind lists the weapons on the table and plans revenge on Eli using his own weapons. Coughing, the wetness fills your ears as blood coats your lips, and you don’t feel the ropes snapping around your wrists and ankles.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Victor says calmly, looking over you as he kneels before you.

“I’m dying,” you argue.

“I’m not gonna let that happen.”

You nod as Victor shoves something against your stomach, and you watch the knives behind him as everything gets cold and dark.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Sydney, turn the dial on that IV,” Victor says in the darkness.

Forcing your eyes open, you expect to see a mirage or some vision of heaven. Instead, you see Victor and Sydney, alive and well, standing over you.

“What did you do?” you ask, your voice scratchy and your throat raw.

“The better question is what did you do? Eli is cruel but that was overboard, even for him,” Victor replies.

Sydney nods at him and walks out, squeezing your hand as she walks by. You watch her, her touch lingering as you remember what happened.

“You brought me back?”

“Of course. Most of your wounds were external, but…”

“He stabbed me in the stomach.”

“Yeah. You died right after I got there, but the internal damage wasn’t too bad, so I packed the wound and focused on getting your heart restarted. Lucky for us, Mitch can hack hospital networks and account for the supplies I stole.”

“Why?”

“Because they’d notice that amount of blood missing from-”

“No, why’d you bring me back?”

Victor stares at you before answering, “You’re important. You’re part of this… team? And no one deserves to go like that.”

“Did you ask her yet?” Sydney asks, peeking her head back in the door.

“No,” Victor answers with a sigh.

“Ask me what?” you interject.

“If you’re an EO now.”

Your eyes narrow as you look at Victor, who shrugs.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How long did it take you to realize you had power?” you ask Victor as he changes your bandages.

“Immediately after I came back,” Victor answers. “I was still thinking about the pain and then I looked over at Angie, and… you know.”

“Sorry,” you whisper. “But, I guess I’d know by now, then, and we can give Sydney a firm ‘no’ on the EO question.”

“We’ll see,” Victor says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What superpower would you have wanted?” Sydney asks as you sit beside her on the couch, cartoons playing in the early morning hours.

“I don’t know,” you answer. “Invisibility would be cool.”

Sydney nods and pats Dol’s head when he looks up at her.

“What are you two doing awake?” Victor asks as he walks into the room.

“Just talking,” you answer.

“Want to make us breakfast?” Sydney asks, smiling at Victor.

He sighs, doesn’t answer, and opens a cabinet to pull out several ingredients.

“I did not think that would work,” Sydney whispers to you.

You laugh and begin to respond before the sound of two knives scraping together draws your attention. Looking to the kitchen, you see Victor removing a knife from a drawer, you know he’s getting it out to cook, but you can’t help it as you think about the last time you were around knives. Sydney says something else, but your focus is locked on the blade until it drops out of your view.

Victor’s eyes widen as the knife falls to the counter and then slides away from him. He slowly looks at you, opening and closing his mouth several times before asking, “Did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” you answer quietly.

“Sydney, go in the other room,” Victor says, his eyes still on you.

“But, I-”

“Syd, just go, it’s okay,” you assure quietly, smiling at her as she walks past you.

“What were you thinking about? When you died,” Victor amends.

“Um, mostly about all the weapons he had,” you answer, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“And now?”

“The knives scraped together and that sound- When I looked over and saw the knife, I thought about how I don’t like seeing them and it happened.”

“Can you try to do it again?”

You shake your head, looking at your hands in your lap. Victor walks across the room to you, his footsteps silent. He sits beside you and gently lays a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s normal to be scared, after everything you went through. But we also have to be smart about this; we need to keep it a secret while keeping everyone safe.”

“I’ll try again. If you leave.” Victor shakes his head, and you add, “I can’t risk hurting you accidentally. Just walk out of the room and I’ll try again.”

Victor seems to consider his options before standing. He hesitates by the door, then tells you to be careful. The last time he left you alone, he nearly lost you, and he’s not sure he can take that fear again. He can numb physical pain, but if anything happens to you, the emotional hurt may be too much to bear. Waiting just outside the doorway, he tunes into your pain, ready to barge back in at the first sign of injury.

You’re not confident, so you decide to try something small. There’s always a chance the knife sliding was a freaky coincidence, and you’re still an ordinary human with no mind-knife-wielding powers. Stepping to the counter, you look at the knife and picture it standing on its tip.

And it does.

So, you imagine the utensil levitating above the sink. And it does that, too.

Shaking your head in unbelief, you feel powerful enough to do something reckless. So you back up against the wall and mentally aim the knife right beside your head. It lurches forward and lunges into the wall beside you. You bark a laugh at the change you’ve experienced, a night of wishing you could move a knife, and now you can control them to your mind’s content.

At your sound of surprise, Victor rushes back into the room, his eyes bouncing between you and the knife lodged in the wall. “What did you do?”

“Tried to shoot my eye out.”

You smile at your reference, but Victor seems unimpressed with your dangerous test. Looking at the knife, you bring it to your side and spin it slowly in midair before setting it back on the counter.

“So, you have telekinesis?”

You haven’t considered the possibility you can move anything, so you look at a magazine Sydney left and imagine it opening, but nothing happens.

“Do you have your gun?” you ask.

“Yes. Why?”

“Pull it out.”

“No.”

“Victor, I don’t think I have full-blown telekinesis. I can control knives, but Eli had guns, too, so there’s a chance I can manipulate them. Please let me see your gun, I promise not to do anything dangerous this time.”

Victor takes a deep breath before pulling his gun out. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just hold it there.”

You look at the gun and picture the magazine falling out. It takes a second, but it does.

“Why’d it take so long?” you ask. “The knife was instantaneous.”

Victor looks at the gun and then up at you in surprise. “It pulled the bullet from the chamber. You emptied it.”

“Of all the powers I could have gotten, I can control guns and knives with my mind,” you say with a short laugh. “That’ll come in handy.”

“It certainly will,” Victor agrees, missing your sarcasm as he bends to pick up his bullets.

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor’s thumb brushes over the v-shaped scar on your wrist, a comforting habit he’s picked up since bringing you back to life. 

“Stay exactly where I told you too, okay? If I send out a mass pain wave, I need to know where you are,” he explains.

“I will, I promise.”

“Good. And don’t intervene.”

“I can’t promise that, Victor,” you say, shaking your head. “I won’t let him kill you. I can’t.”

Victor nods slowly. “Don’t intervene unless absolutely necessary, then. And you could at least try to act like we’ll see each other again,” he adds.

“We will,” you promise. That one you’re sure you can keep.

Slipping through a hole in the fence, you enter the Falcon Price project and find the spot Victor told you to wait in. You hear more of the fight than you see, but when you hear the police approaching, a sign that Serena is out of the picture and they are learning the truth, you know you must do something. So you move.

✯✯✯✯✯

Only a thin plastic sheet separates you and Victor after rounding a corner. It also separates you and Eli and you and the weapons. Eli looks toward an opening while Victor struggles on the floor, losing blood quickly. Eli turns suddenly and lunges toward Victor’s knife. Footsteps echo and ripple the plastic sheeting as the Merit Police storm the building. Just before Eli’s fingers reach the handle, you turn it, plunging it into his chest. Victor glances up at him before slumping again. As Eli claws at the knife and tries to pull it out so he can heal, you push it in deeper, twisting it for good measure. And revenge. Raising the sheet, you walk to Victor and pull one of his arms over your shoulders as you help him up. 

“You won’t win,” Eli says through gritted teeth.

“Yet you’re indulging our fantasies,” you bite back. “Have fun in prison, Cardale.”

Eli yells, alerting the police of his location, and you pull Victor out of the building and into the shadows. His eyes begin to clear as he numbs his pain.

“There you are,” Sydney pants, running to your side. “Mitch found somewhere for us to go. Come on!”

She turns and leads you as you help Victor stand again, following her as quickly as possible.

“I told you not to move,” he says.

“And I told you I wouldn’t let you die.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Victor passed out when you started treating his wounds, allowing his pain to rise to its natural level before darkness overtook him. That was nearly two days ago, and you sit by his side, changing his bandages as needed, checking his vitals, and impatiently waiting for him to wake up. You’re reading one of his parents’ books, his edited version obviously, and don’t notice your leg bouncing anxiously.

“You’re going to dig a hole in the floor,” Mitch says as he enters the room. “How can you read that?”

You shrug. “It’s insight into Victor’s mind. Where else could I get that?”

Mitch tilts his head as he concedes that Victor would never share openly. He asks a few questions and checks on Victor before standing.

“I’m going to go check the police database and see where Eli is headed,” he says.

You nod and wait until he is gone to go to Victor's side. He looks relatively good, considering everything he’s been through. His wounds are healing quickly; his unconsciousness is the only thing obviously wrong with him. 

“I really need you to wake up,” you whisper, unconsciously tracing the ‘V’ Eli left on your wrist. “You said we have to be smart and safe with our powers. ‘We,’ Victor.”

You run your fingertips lightly across his palm and up his wrist, feeling his steady pulse beneath your skin. His heartbeat increases, and you look at his face in anxious anticipation. Then it happens. Victor Vale opens his eyes, and smiles.

“We it is.”

[maiji]

Fortune Lenormand oracle/art deck - new edition + limited time free readings!

I'm excited to announce my Fortune Lenormand oracle/art deck is available again in a new edition (the biggest change: it now has a custom box!) yay!!

To celebrate, I thought it'd be fun to offer some free readings, the kind I used to do back when I was tabling at events! I personally find the 36-card Lenormand system accessible and enjoyable for both personal and creative prompt-type purposes. These readings will use the 2-card spread, which is easy to do!

How this works

To submit a request for a free reading, send it through my ask box between now (Fri Oct 27) and Sun October 29, 2023 midnight EST.

Optional: Along with your request, include your question and two numbers of your choice from 1-36.

I'll do as many readings as I can before the end of October. 

One question per person please!

I am not taking anonymous requests and these readings will be posted publicly. So don't share anything you're not comfortable with strangers on the Internet seeing!

I reserve the right to turn down a reading for any reason (the most likely reasons are if a question is rude/tasteless/inappropriate etc. or if I get too busy and can't do all the requests I get).

Asking your question

Your question must be an open-ended one, and not a question that can be answered with "yes" or "no".

Ironically, even though this deck is called "Fortune", I use them as tools for self-reflection and creative stuff, not fortune telling. It is an opportunity to open a dialogue with your self/subconscious!

For example, instead of "Should I [go to this event, do this thing, ___" or "Am I/Is someone/something else going to ___, try something like "What should I consider if I were to ___?" "Why do I want ___?" "What am I afraid of/hopeful for with regards to ___?" "How might I approach ___?" and so on.

You can learn more about this philosophy, and also get ideas for phrasing your question, on my site - check out the section that starts with "Framing your question" and up to/including "Reading Examples".

Also, you can have fun! Ask a question for your OC or a character you're writing! Ask questions for creative prompts! "I'm stuck in a fanfic I'm writing about X, Y and Z doing [whatever they're doing] and need an idea!" "I'm designing a new character, what could I incorporate into their personality or backstory?" "I want to draw a picture of my OTP and would like a prompt for inspiration!" and so on.

Decide what your question is before you make your request and don't forget what it is!

Seems obvious, but I'm reiterating this because you don't have to tell me your question when you make your request.

If you do tell me your question, it may help me give you more specific suggestions for how you can interpret the cards. If you're asking a creative prompt question, having details means I can suggest more relevant ideas for you to use as jumping off points.

If you don't tell me your question, please write it down somewhere or do something so that you don't forget it by the time I get around to your reading.

Obviously this is an honour system thing, but it doesn't really matter because if you sneak-change your answer, the only person it really affects (and potentially confuses) is yourself, haha.

If you wish to reveal what your question was afterwards, feel free to do so on the reading post!

Readings completed so far!

delphina2k: Creative prompt-type reading regarding Sydney from the webcomic Sombulus

lucylyall: Personal reading on changing habits/automatic ways of thinking

and-his-hands-were-24-crows: mystery reading!

blue-moonlight-sirens: Personal reading on what is coming in general

rootandbranchcomic: Personal reading on surviving a huge change

rawwrr04-blog: mystery reading!

crabbng: Creative prompt-type reading regarding Hana from the webcomic Kings of Sorts

supreme-sauteer: Personal reading on what's stopping me from putting myself out there

ancient-trees: Personal reading on sparking creative energy

[threadsun]

Ok, Sydney was robbed of a proper corruption ending so I'm here to write him one

We're actually going to keep the part where his original story "ends" You two make it to the prayer room get high and...fuck? weirdly hump each other while you're crazy stupid high? Who's to say, but that happens, ok? But after a while something just doesn't sit right with Sydney. Sure it felt like you two had sex but he's still a virgin, aside from any bruises you two might have left on each other there's no real way to tell if that all really happened or not. Not to mention how fucking sick of the church he's getting

He's been told all his life that people like you are evil sinners who will never reach haven, but those nights spent with you are haven! You are his haven, why should the church's opinion matter to him anymore? He's found salvation between your thighs and he'd rather die before letting go

He tells you his new plan while you two are in the library, just like last time. He tells you he's done with the church, he's going to revoke his vows tonight with you by his side, and after he does you're going to deflower him, properly this time. No tricks, no incense, no prayer room. Just the two of you fucking till dawn

Now, he could just leave the church quietly but he wants it to be a spectacle. He wants to see the shock and horror on those priests faces when he spits out the name of his god. and he does, oh fuck does he ever. With you by his side Sydney calls for a surprise sermon, making sure everyone in the temple is watching as he grabs you by the collar and makes out with you. No more having to keep his lips to your cheek, no more hiding, no more fear!

He tells them all that he won't be coming back to the temple after today, so he might as well leave them with a bang. He pulls a list from his pocket and reads off every sinful act he's seen within the temple with places, dates, and names. He leaves you two's sins for last, letting you tell them all about your nights spent in the prayer room. The last words Sydney speaks to them are used to clear your name, sure you were to one who temped him but if he hadn't wanted sin in the first place neither of you would be here right now

Everyone is too shocked to even stop you two from leaving, the both of you strutting down to Elk street. You both make your way to the porn shop, inside waits a rose petal trail to a blow up mattress. Sydney says it's the best he could do on such short notice, or he tries to any way, it's hard to make out what he's saying with his tongue down your throat. You to have sex that night, real sober sex, and you finally get to deflower him

After that night Sydney's schedule changes quite a bit. Seeing as he doesn't go to church any more he spends his after school hours at the porn shop everyday. Just because he's no longer a man of faith doesn't mean he's any less of a hard worker. He pours his heart and soul into making new and exciting toys for the lovely little sinners of this town, making sure to give them all a little test drive on you, of course

If you're in any sex work he also asks you for new ideas or needs in the market that haven't been met yet. He takes every cretic and suggestion from you seriously, even the ones you meant as a joke (Something something balloon dildo, that anon still haunts my nightmares) but he makes all of them work great!

His favorite toys to test are vibes because to get a good idea of how long their battery life lasts and how good the vibrations are he makes sure to wear them all day, he even measures their orgasms per minute, he's very through. He loves the ones with remote controls the most because then he can give them to you to fiddle with during class

I haven't played too much of the game so if there's any questions I left unanswered feel free to let me know and I'll make an addendum. Also yes, I've been trapped in your walls for sometime now. Let me out, please? I'll give you forehead kisses, and uh...cookies?

👀 OH I LOVE THAT!!! Sydney deserves to make out with you in front of the entire church and then leave for good >:3c And him putting all that work ethic into the store and testing toys and !!!!! it's all so good!!!!

Enticing me with forehead kisses and cookies.... you drive a hard bargain, but okay. You're allowed out of the walls :3c

[hatkuu]

taps my claws together... Did u know the typical structure of wolf packs out in the wild is a breeding pair and all of their pups (some leave as they enter sexual maturity [~2 years old, males more likely] to start their own packs, but a fair share stay and help raise the next litters of pups).

Anyway. Imagine a PC with the wolf tf mentioning/confessing this to Kylar and just how overjoyed Kylar might be by the fact... Esp if they got the wolf tf From said PC, but either way - to think!! That PC might want them as their mate (*surely* they do, to tell them this), to *breed* with them, to have a loving family like that... isn't it ideal? And of course, even if PC didn't tell them directly, it's not like Kylar can't do their own research <3...

OR wolf tf Kylar themself!! Scrawny little thing... Having found such a perfect mate, wanting so *badly* to have a family (pack) again after their parents got sick and Sydney stopped talking to them, so devoted and loving and wagging their tail rapidly as spend time together, helpless to stop it bc they're just so happy... (TRYING TO HIDE HOW MUCH THEIR TAIL WANTS TO WAG IN THEIR LOW LOVE STAGES BC THEYRE STILL SHY AROUND YOU......)

Just. Thinking so much about Kylar getting to be part of a pack honestly bc it's really sweet to me. Maybe throw Sydney in there for funsies (+ so they'd have more warm connections than just PC and any theoretical kids/pups) also... Honestly I just think it's cute to consider them getting what the want and it hit me a moment ago that would pack structures do kinda lend to that

(BONUS: SUPER LATE. BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REPLYING TO MY FOXBOY KYLAR ASK SO HEARTFULLY IT WAS ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DELIGHTFUL TO READ. BEAMS)

(i'm so glad you enjoyed my rambling!! reveal your blog to me right now. get off anon. i love seeing big asks in my inbox! they're always so fun to read and they make me feel like i've gotten a FREE COMMISSION AFHSKJK) (also i gravitated towards m! kylar for this ehe) wolf tf stuff and having babies with kylar stuff below

you confess anything about starting a family to this freak he loses it. gets himself so worked up that it's all he's been thinking about for a week straight. he starts mishearing things you say - he has to slap a hand over his mouth to stop himself from moaning out loud if you mention anything regarding his/your wolf tf.

also. kylar doing his own research is SOOOO true. this would happen with ANY tf that you have. looks up mating rituals, what ur tf finds most attractive in a mate (and replicates it horribly), and googles when ur mating season is. he's a freak. probably hyperfixates on your tf and blurts out fun (disgustingly degenerate) animal facts while you're hanging out with him. eg. "did you know wolves mate for life??? what do you look for in a mate, pc?? :)"

i feel like if he's the one with the tf, he's a lot whinier about his ruts. makes it out like he's bed-ridden and needs you to take care of him. please please please let him knot you! if you're the one going into heat/rut, he'd be all over you! doesn't want you leaving the orphanage/his room. look! you're presenting yourself to him as soon as he walks in! you can't possibly go out when you're acting like this!! it'd be unsafe!!

i think kylar obsessing over starting a pack with you is 100% accurate. he'd get so emotional and sappy over everything. probably cries with happiness after you let him knot you for the first time, just because he's thinking about the litter you'll have (yes. he refers to ur babies as a litter/pups. even if he's the one without the tf. sobbing.)

a pack with sydney would be ...something. poor sydney would turn into a glorified babysitter. so many little feral children running around and they're all clones of kylar. it is SHOCKING how virile his sperm is. with the amount of children kylar insists on the two of you having together, you'd think that some of them would look like you, but no. kylar taints the gene pool. they're all coming out with dark hair and freakish little green eyes. yeah. poor sydney.

[harlowhockeystick]

happy new year from sYdney, aus! (Lmao i’m a loser who will never get over that)

i was scrolling thru ur sidney crosby stuff (bc this man has me GRIPPED I’m so embarrassed and obsessed) and I saw some of the teacher!reader stuff and I know most ppl default to like…teacher of young kids but please consider - high school teacher!reader

like yes reader is younger (I’m still thinking of ur age gap!sidney oh lord) but she’s been teaching high schoolers for nearly a decade now. so what if ur 36 and 180cm and a professional goon athlete on the ice. so what if ur shorter than literally all of sid’s teammates. hs teacher!reader has a presence and you WILL listen to her when she tells a room full of adrenaline fuelled hockey players to stop throwing their nasty underarmour clothing at each other for 5 seconds so you can all finish your damn gatorade and HYDRATE, evgeni, you think kidney stones are a joke, do you? or just giving someone the Teacher Look when they’re being a bit too sassy or just casually slotting in to help Dana in the equipment room.

dealing with the media? easy as pie - they’ve got nothing on private school parents who don’t understand why little johnny isn’t in the top class, he just needs to be challenged and extended, don’t you understand that’s why he doesn’t do anything in class, because he’s bored, he’s actually VERY capable! (sidney was shell shocked with a fear boner the first time he hears the tail end of your phone convo to a parent - “unfortunately mr x, i have yet to see any evidence of this, so our decision stands. Have a good day now :)”

the whole hockey schedule? oh lord, reader is a professional at timetable management, don’t you even worry. She’s an excellent coordinator (yes, a shared and colour coded google calendar for her and sidney’s relationship) she understands how both their schedules can be insane, but most importantly understands the importance of work-life balance and setting boundaries for yourself! she helps pull sidney out of his head, reminding him that it’s just as important to take care of himself if he wants to keep taking care of others. she reminds him that it’s okay to be a little bit selfish, and really, that it’s not actually selfish at all to admit to another person how tired and frustrated you are, or to talk about things from years past that you thought you’d gotten over, but no, really, you just buried it for the sake of your team and career.

the whole public persona/reputation vs privacy thing? she totally gets it and understands sidney’s need first privacy. hell, that’s why she so fucking tech savvy - she knows ALL the tips and tricks to keep her socials locked away from prying student and parent eyes. It sparks this sense of safety and security in sidney? like he knows for sure that his privacy is protected, and that he trusts reader so much not to accidentally or not take advantage of his fame and fortune?

uhhhh anyway sidney being in shock-scared-and-horny-awe at your absolute confidence, breadth of knowledge, and commanding yet calm presence despite your age and (comparatively) tiny size. sidney discovers he has a competency kink when you accidentally use your teacher voice on him bc he keeps trying to distract you with kisses and cuddles while ur trying to finish off some marking. like, you stare at him over the top of your glasses and go “sidney crosby, you’ve got two choices right now - you can sit down on the couch in silence and wait literally 10 minutes, or, if you want to continue as you are, one of us is going to sleep in the guest room tonight, so let’s make good choices now, eh?”

he sheepishly goes to the couch and waits for you to sit in his lap after u’re done so you can pepper his shy lil face with kisses, calling him a “ridiculous boy” with such fondness in ur voice it makes him giggle

omg stop i LOVE THIS!!!!!!!