#am i posting instead of going to bed. yeah. whatever. i think about it a lot

[enden-agolor]

you CANNOT just post that and not tell us the back story

Oh boy okay here we go

randy x andy lore 🙈

I'll just post the context of the comic with a bit of lore and backstory.

So I already stated that Andy and I have been friends since 6th grade. I think that's about 16 years of knowing each other now? Well, friendship was kind of a struggle for me because of uh.. my home situation. The thought of having people over was very frightening and embarrassing, but Andy never really judged me or let any of that stuff get in the way of us being friends, but regardless, I almost always spent the night at his place whenever we would hang out. I'd walk about three miles to his place almost every weekend because he was only a few neighborhoods away. Anyways, so we had a lot of sleepovers and most of the time I would sleep on the floor in his room which like. Cool. Not gay. Whatever.

Well. I recall a discussion we had when we were about 13 (I think this was in 2010 or 2011) on facebook where we were just talking about personal stuff and I confessed I'd never really experienced any positive physical affection before? Nothing of note came out of that conversation, but apparently Andy remembered that.

Next time I went to his place for a sleepover, it felt no different than any other time we'd hang out. Playing video games or watching youtube or just hanging out outside. Well come bed time I remember going with him to his room and.. In a random change of events, he told me to get in the bed. I remember being hella confused and hesitant but I did and ended up just laying there awkwardly, him kinda laughing and telling me to turn around and scoot over, again my dumbass was really awkward about it. He shut off the light and crawled into bed after me and without saying ANYTHING just wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. It's been well over a decade since this happened and I still remember the shock and confusion. I remember full body trembling and tensing and trying to control it because I just did not know how to react. And he'd asked if I was okay and I just responded with a stuttered "yeah." He ends up falling asleep like that and when I tell you I stayed up all night staring at the wall next to me and just. Experiencing that feeling of being held for the first time it was extraordinary.

It became a constant need after that but because I was afraid of being gay and uh. Also am just very shy in general. I would never ask for it and would instead just hope it would happen again which.. it did. And then my emotions kinda spiraled and it was very easy to fall for him.

But yeah Andy made me gay and I never dated anyone else before because I saved myself for him for many years after that happened. Just constantly cuddling as friends. I seriously can't ever imagine being with anyone else. He is kind of cool idk

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

Me seeing someone with a cool name: oooooo, what if

Another part of my brain: no. we spent enough time getting to Jonah. we’re not doing it again

[tauforged]

like the thing that i think a lot of ppl gloss over is that a large majority of the talon aligned heroes have little to no interest in the actual ‘goals’ of the organization (to the point where we still don’t entirely know what talon wants or why they exist, lmfao) so much as it just being a means to an end. like we can all conceptualize that sombra is pretty much just there because it gives her access to more resources she can use towards her own goals, moira is there for research opportunities and funding that she’d never get elsewhere due to the nature of her work, i can only imagine that ramattra’s alliance with talon (and thus null sector’s as a whole) is purely situational because it provides advantages he considers useful, reaper is pretty much just there because they’re against overwatch therefore he can use it as an avenue for his revenge, even doomfist doesn’t really seem to hold as much stock in talon as an organization as he does use his position as a tool to achieve his goals, if it stopped being useful he would likely just walk away.

in opposition to the overwatch aligned heroes who all seem to be coming together solely for the sake of this like, ideal of Overwatch as a concept being this paradigm of good and justice and doing what’s right, and rallying behind their faith in the organization and what it symbolizes… i genuinely don’t think any of the talon operatives really care all that much about talon at all. it’s just a job. like, sure, we’re doing cartoon supervillain shit, but the pay is decent and we’ve got benefits and i can continue to do my own thing on the side, no questions asked. it’s honestly a pretty sweet deal.

all of that to say i really don’t see why people seem so averse to the idea of sigma having that same mindset. like yeah, he’s not exactly thrilled to be using his research and abilities to assist in acts of violent terrorism, but does he have many other options? he says it himself in that interaction with baptiste, talon gives him everything he needs - funding, resources, something to fall back on after being in total isolation for decades and coming out with absolutely nothing. it’s a guaranteed safety net — so long as he’s with talon, there’s absolutely no chance of anyone dragging him off or locking him up again, and so long as he contributes when he’s needed, he’s free to pursue his research to his heart’s content. does he regret it? sure, sometimes. i think they all do. i doubt there’s a single talon-aligned hero who genuinely believes what they’re doing is genuinely morally correct and sound. but ultimately in his mind he didn’t have many options left, so he had to settle for something he knew would at least guarantee his safety and continued freedom. it doesn’t really mean he’s being manipulated or held against his will any moreso than most of the other talon heroes, imho. he’s not proud of it, but hey, it pays the bills.

i feel like he regards it with a similar level of resentment/annoyance as i felt towards my horrible soul sucking corporate retail job of several years - like don’t get me wrong, the company i worked for absolutely sucked and i HATED how they operated, policy was bullshit and so much of it was unnecessary and needlessly counterproductive. but i also really connected with my coworkers in the same situation AND i got to get paid to do stuff i already would have been doing on my own anyway, and ultimately the experience i got and connections i made were really helpful in pursuing what i actually wanted to be doing with my life. it’s like if your shitty day job required you to kill people but they also like, got you hooked up with a place to live and a healthcare provider and all that shit and paid for all of your living expenses no questions asked AND gave you a decent budget to screw around with so long as every now and then you showed them what you were making and maybe used it to kill people more efficiently sometimes. i wouldn’t exactly feel any amount of loyalty to the company paying me but i wouldn’t exactly be in a hurry to quit either

[nocturnalcharm]

Faking It (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

𐙚 prompt: charles forces you and logan to do a mission together in order to help you bond. 𐙚 cw: enemies to lovers, one bed trope, if this does well i’ll do a part 2 w smut ;) cussing, 𐙚 a/n:  thanks to everyone who's sent me req's! this wasnt a req but id already started it haha if youve sent a req ill try to get to it asap.... also so many ppl wanted to be added to a taglist but for the nsfw alphabet post i dont think it tagged like half the ppl?? so im sorry if u dont get tagged, im trying to fix it :)

18+ blog!! you are responsible for your own media consumption. if any of the above makes you uncomfortable, do not proceed.

“Professor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“(Y/N), it’s not me you should be apologizing to. It’s your team. That’s who you both let down.” He eyes flick between you and Logan.

“I’ll go apologize to them now.” You turn to leave.

“You too Logan.” Charles says.

On this latest mission, you needed to sneak into a factory and take down all of the enemies— But you and Logan were arguing so loudly, you alerted all of the rivals, turning a few quick sneak attacks into full blown fights. No one was badly injured but you still felt horrible about it.

“This is all your fault.” You mumbled, just loud enough for Logan to hear.

“My fault? You’re kidding.” He huffs.

“Shut up.” You walk ahead of him, on the way to the common room to see your team.

Everyone was sitting there, talking amongst themselves. Once you and Logan entered, they all stopped their conversations and looked at you.

“Guys. I am so sorry about this mission.”

“I’m sorry, extremely sorry, and I apologize for my behavior.” Logan mocked your expression of regret.

“You are such a child, Logan! I’m trying to apologize!” You raised your voice.

“I am too!”

“Can you two just stop?” Hank stood up, silencing you both. “Your attitudes have been getting in the way of every mission. If you guys can’t get along then maybe you shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh..” You didn’t know how to respond. You couldn’t believe you let your dislike for Logan get in the way of your job, so much that they thought you shouldn’t be an X-Man anymore.

They all left the room, leaving just you and Logan to culminate in your thoughts.

“I think it’s pretty obvious we’re not going to get along any time soon.” He broke the silence.

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He walked out, as you sat in the empty room.

The next day, Xavier called you and Logan into his office yet again. You were concerned, worried he might be kicking you off the team. But instead, he said he had a mission for you two.

“I need you to pose as a couple. You’ll be going to an upscale hotel in Manhattan. It’s a cover for a drug smuggling ring. You two will stay as guests in order to collect information. I need everyone that is there, guests and workers alike, to think you two are madly in love. We don’t know who could be involved, so we can’t have them think anything suspicious.”

“Professor, is that the best idea? We just blew the last mission because we couldn’t stop arguing.”

“If you two fail this mission, I will have no choice but to replace both of you. You are amazing at what you do, but your arguing affects everyone. Not just yourselves.”

“Okay. We won’t let you down.” Logan speaks up.

***

The trip to the hotel was long and frustrating. You two couldn’t agree on anything the entire time. You criticized his driving, he criticized what you put on the radio, and how loud it was. You called him an old man, which just resulted in the radio being turned off and continuing the last hour drive there in silence.

When you arrived, it was late afternoon. Logan, pretending to be your fiance, grabbed all the bags by himself and walked inside. The hotel was huge. It was upscale, classy. So fancy you were afraid to touch anything, in fear it might break.

“Hi! Checking in for Anderson.” He greeted the front desk clerk, giving his forged name. He dropped the bags on the floor and you wrapped yourself around his now-free arm, squeezing it.

“Hello, Mr. Anderson.” She smiled back, “Let’s see. You had the penthouse, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“We’re celebrating our engagement!” You beamed, holding out your hand, showing off your fake engagement ring.

“That’s lovely. Congratulations! We’ll have a bottle of champagne in your room for celebration.”

“Thank you so much!” You squeaked.

He finished the check-in process, then you headed to the top floor.

The penthouse was absolutely gorgeous. It was huge, the size of a decent apartment. Just like the lobby, you were afraid to break something.

“Wow.. This is amazing. Only time I’ll ever get to stay in a penthouse and it’s with you.” You said, as he shut the door.

“I was just thinking the same thing. Now, c’mon we gotta go to the pool. Get changed.” He handed you your bag.

You opened it, pulling out your bikini. It was the only one you had, admittedly from a few years ago. You didn’t have time anymore to relax by a pool or go swimming in the ocean, so this swimsuit had to do. It was a simple black string bikini.

You went inside the bathroom to change. Once you had your swimsuit on, you felt a little self conscious at the amount of skin showing, but figured it’d help with the whole ‘can’t keep your hands off your new fiance’ vibe you and Logan needed to exude for this mission.

You walked out of the bathroom, faking confidence you didn’t have. Logan had taken the opportunity to just change in the living space since he was alone. He was wearing black swim trunks. It was funny, it looked like you two had matched on purpose.

“Wow.” He said quietly, clearing his throat.

“What? You like what you see?” You joked at his clear uncomfortableness with seeing you in such little clothing.

“Whatever, let’s just go.” He spat, grabbing two towels, the key, and exiting the room.

The second you were out the door, you both had big smiles on your face. His arm was around you, holding your side as you headed to the pool.

It wasn’t too busy, just a few kids with their parents, and a bartender at the outdoor bar. You told him you wanted a drink, so that’s where you headed first.

“Hey, can I get two Mojitos?” Logan asked, handing him the room key “And can you just charge it to our room?”

“Of course,” He started working on the drinks immediately, while you two sat and people-watched. He finished the drinks, and gave you them and the room key back.

You said thank you as you walked off, hoping Logan would just follow. There was a small hot tub that was empty, so that’s where you went. You stepped in carefully, afraid of slipping, and sat down in the warm water.

“Really?” Logan whispered, a fake smile still adorned on his face.

“This is what couples do, Logan. And we’re a couple for this weekend. So sit down and act like you love me, sweetie.” Your grin was starting to hurt your cheeks.

He sat down across from you, and you mentally rolled your eyes. You got up, and repositioned yourself, sitting in his lap, “What part of ‘act like you love me’ are you not getting?” 

He was frozen for a moment, caught off guard but quickly acted like he was happy to have you there, to not draw suspicion. You both took sips of your drink, as you continued to nonchalantly looked around.

You two stayed at the pool for awhile, taking mental notes of the guests and employees you saw. Honestly, this hotel didn’t seem too strange. But Xavier said it was a front so you guessed that’s why it seemed so normal, for their cover.

Once your drinks were empty, and the sun had started to go down, you both decided to head back up to the room. He got out drying himself off before wrapping you up in your towel. He picked you up and carried you bridal-style to the penthouse.

“Logan!”

“What? Just acting like I love you.” He smirked.

Once inside the room, he set you down. “I’m gonna go shower.” You stated, not really knowing what to do. 

He just nodded, walking off to the kitchenette. You grabbed your bag and headed to the bathroom.

***

You mentally cursed yourself as you scrambled through your bag, searching for a pair of pajama shorts you thought you packed, but they were nowhere to be found. 

“This cannot be real.” You whispered. The only other clothes you brought were jean shorts, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sleep in those.

You pulled out your oversized sleepshirt, putting it on. The hem landed right above the middle of your thigh. It was a little shorter than the length of a nightgown, so you just hoped he wouldn’t notice. You slipped on a pair of panties, snatched up your things, and exited the bathroom.

You immediately bumped into Logan, who was standing right outside the door.

“What the fuck?” You raised your voice, annoyed. “Why are you right outside the door?”

“I was about to knock. You’ve been in there for over an hour.”

“It’s all yours!” You sassed.

You walked over to the small kitchen, and see he had already opened up the champagne. You had a glass as you sat on a barstool, writing down some notes about the people you’d observed earlier. Pouring yourself another glass, you headed over to the bed.

Just as you made yourself comfortable, Logan came out of the washroom, in just a towel. You stared at his wet torso for a moment, hypnotized.

“My eyes are up here.” He laughed.

You looked up, embarrassed.

“Forgot my clothes. Hey, wait, why are you in the bed?”

“…Because I’m the girl?”

“You're also the short one. I can’t fit on that couch.”

“Oh, c’mon. It’s a big bed. We can both fit just fine. Unless you’re nervous. Never slept with a girl before, Lo?”

He sighed, clearly not wanting to argue, before taking his clothes and escaping back to the bathroom. You silently celebrated your victory.

He came out a few moments later, turning off the lights, sliding under the blankets and getting comfortable. You both ended up facing the same direction. If he was any closer, he’d be the big spoon, but there was a few inches separating you.

You adjusted your body, and accidentally felt your ass rub against him. You went rigid from humiliation, before scooting away slightly, ignoring it since he didn’t say anything.

You tried to fall asleep, but it was difficult, for many reasons. One, you’re not used to having someone else in your bed. Two, he was breathing heavily. Three, you couldn’t stop thinking about how sexy he was.

Of course, you knew Logan was attractive, you’d thought that since the moment you first saw him. But today, probably because of the faux-gagement, the touching, the flirting, you saw him differently. He was still getting on your nerves, but the flames between you two… His body… It was unlike before.

You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You twiddled your feet, moving around your body nervously, before unintentionally grazing your ass against his crotch again.

“Y’know, if you keep rubbing your ass against my dick, I’m gonna do something about it.” His words sounded gruff in your ear, but they gave you butterflies.

“Maybe that’s what I want.” 

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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[beingsuneone]

I BET You Think About Me

SYNOPSIS: being Theo’s girlfriend is a dream… until you find out why he asked you out in the first place.

FANDOM: Harry Potter

PAIRING(S): Theodore Nott x fem!reader

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Enzo, Blaise, Draco, Mattheo, Pansy, Snape

GENRE/AU: Snape’s Daughter!Reader, Asks you out cause of a bet, kind of angsty, kind of fluffy, slytherin!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

WARNINGS: swearing and kissing.

A/N: agh. It’s 3 in the morning. Enjoy. May have a tiny bit of pacing issues but it’s fine

DEDICATIONS: the polls who decided they wanted Theo while I decided I was gonna post Mattheo and Rhysand instead.

CREDITS: n/a

…Six Months Ago….

——————————————————————————

“You can’t do it, Theo.” Draco says plainly. “If she’s anything like her father she won’t be able to feel that kind of emotion.”

Theo shakes his head. “She’s still a girl.”

Mattheo snorts, Enzo sputters. “That’s a bit sexist, Theo.” Enzo says, looking over at Y/n L/n.

She’s Severus Snape’s daughter and completely untouchable. Theo hasn’t seen a single guy going out with her in the whole six years they’d been at hogwarts.

That might be because of her father.

“Draco’s right.” Mattheo says. “She’ll never fall for you.”

“I’m gonna prove you guys wrong and you’re gonna owe me a shit ton of money for it.”

…. One Month Ago ….

——————————————————————————

Mattheo stares at you as you walks away. “Damn, I guess you were right.” Both him and Draco reach for their wallets but Theo waves them off.

“I don’t want it— any of it.” It felt for him wrong to take the money from the bet. Theo had fallen for you just as hard— if not harder— as you’d fallen for him.

Hell, Theo would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked him.

“What do you mean?” Blaise asks incredulously. “You won the bet.”

Theo furrows his eyebrows. “Whatever, I don’t want the money.”

They all stare at him.

One, two, three minutes of silence before Mattheo blurts out: “Oh my god. Theo fell for her.” He starts to laugh, and the other boy's eyes widen.

“Wow. That’s a little bit pathetic, Theo.” Draco teases.

Pansy slides in beside Blaise. “Wow. Famous playboy Theodore Nott fell for someone?” She snickers. “Who?”

Theo deadpans. “What do you mean who?” You are Pansy’s roommate after all, Pansy should better than anybody.

Her face falls. “You don’t mean y/n. do you?” Theo nods and she gives him an exasperated look. “Theo! You literally only dated her to win a bet!”

“Yeah, I know!” He retorts. A beat of silence, then, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You have to tell her.” Enzo cuts in. “If you truly like her, it isn’t something you can keep secret.”

Theo nods his head absentmindedly. “I know, I know. I’ll tell her soon.”

He didn’t want his new relationship to end before it ever began.

….Present….

——————————————————————————

Today, you woke up late, stubbed your toe on your bed and then spent the ten minutes you had to get ready looking for your damned potions book.

When you’d finally found it, threw on your uniform and got your hair into some sort of presentable, you rushed out your dorm and down the hallways as fast as your feet would take you.

Your class was on the opposite side of Hogwarts and you were already ten minutes late.

In your haste, you aren’t watching for other people in front of you and run straight into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim frantically, picking up your books as she picks up hers.

She looks familiar but you don’t know her name.

“No, it’s okay— Oh.” Her faces twists into a scowl when she meets your gaze. “You’re Theo’s ‘Girlfriend’” she airquotes as she says ‘girlfriend’, causing you to narrow your eyes at here.

You furrow your eyebrows. “Uhm, yeah, I am. Why did you say it like that?”

She crosses her arms. “Because you and I both know that he doesn’t actually like you. You’re not his girlfriend.”

“And who, exactly, are you?” You ask, annoyance settling in your chest.

She looks down at you, a cocky expression written on her face. “You should probably just stay away from him, you know that, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really, he’s going to be mine so I don’t even know what you’re doing.” She waves you off, as if she truly believes this.

You shuffle your books around in your arms and shift your weight into your other leg. “You do know that you’re not his girlfriend, right?”

“Whatever.” She shrugs, and you still don’t know her name. “Doesn’t matter if he calls you his girlfriend, it’s not like you’re a threat anyway.”

What does she mean ‘not a threat’? You feel like that’s a sentence better used to describe her considering, you’re Theo’s actual girlfriend. “What is that supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously but still relatively calm.

She gives you a mock sympathetic expression. “Oh, Sweetheart,” She starts, taunting you with each syllable. “You didn’t really think someone like Theo would settle down for someone like you… do you? I mean, he’s all parties and good times and you’re… well, you can’t even dress yourself properly.”

She looks you up and down, from your half-untucked uniform shirt to your loose tie and your unwrinkled skirt. You’re not usually this messed up. “Clearly, I do, because he did.” You pause, sigh deeply and roll your eyes. “Why am I even entertaining this conversation?” You turn away from her, preparing to tune her out and walk away.

She tuts, shaking her head. “Because you obviously know you mean nothing to him— after all when your relationship starts with a bet, I don’t think it’s ever been super stable.”

This makes you stop and turn back to her. “A bet?” You say it slowly and the words taste awful on your tongue. “What bet?”

She scoffs-laughs and smiles evilly. “Oops, did I say too much?”

Theo chooses this moment to walk up behind the two of your . He slides his hand around my waist, letting it rest there as he stands beside me. “Are you okay? You’re super late.” He asks, looking you over. His eyes flit over to the girl who was talking to you and his nose scrunched. “Why are you talking to Tracey?”

Tracey, that’s her name.

I don’t think he likes her too much.

Tracey opens her mouth to respond but I cut her off and begin dragging Theo away. “I don’t even know, Theo, let’s go.”

I can feel Tracey’s glare until we’re well out of her line of sight.

Jealous.

……

You can’t get Tracey’s words out of your head. You know it was a tactic to rile you up and, you suppose, it worked but you had this horrible feeling that maybe she wasn’t lying.

Asking Theo about it though? That was hard; you didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him but you also didn’t want to get upset before you knew whether it was true or not.

You decided to ask one or two other people before Theo. Pansy Parkinson, was first. She’s been your friend since first year but she hung out with Theo’s group long before you ever did.

“Hey, Pansy.” You say airily. She looks up at you and smiles.

The bed creaks as you fall down onto it and sigh. “Can I ask you a random question?” You ask, fidgeting with the corner of your blankets.

She looks up at you expectantly but also with a good deal of worry. “Yeah, of course; What’s up?”

She shifts in her spot at the end of her bed, turning her full attention to me.

“Did you ever… I don’t know,” you stop, trying to find the correct words. “Did you ever hear anything about Me, Theo and a bet? While you were, like, hanging out with them.”

Pansy looks down at your fidgeting fingers and then furrows her eyebrows. She thinks about it for a minute, and her face drops so slightly I almost don’t catch it. “Oh, y/n…” she trails off. “He didn’t tell you?”

Every muscle in your body locks up. “He didn’t tell me what?” You don’t think you really want the confirmation now that you know it’s coming.

Pansy stands and then sits down next to you and pulls you into her in a side hug. “When Theo started trying to get with you it was because of a bet.” She stops but you just gesture for her to continue. “… I wasn’t actively apart of this conversation so I only got the gist of it but I was there.”

“What was the bet.” You say, with your eyes hot and your throat restricted. Your tone makes it seem like it wasn’t a question.

“The boys bet him that he couldn’t make the next woman he saw fall in love with him by the end of the year.” She gives your a sad smile. “I guess the next woman was you.”

What. The. Fuck. You’re gonna kill him, because he obviously won that goddamn bet already. You give Pansy a quick squeeze and then stand up. “I need to go talk to him.”

Pansy nods and walks back to her own bed, waving bye as you walk through the door.

Your vision is a bit blurry and your hands are shaking with betrayal and anger as you storm away from the girl’s dorms and right through the common room to the boy’s dorms.

When you reach his door, you knock loudly, despite it being late.

Draco answers. He looks you up and down and then turns his back halfway to you. “Theo, your girlfriend is here.”

Theo appears a moment later, an easy smile and his piercing eyes that you want to love so badly right now. He gently moves you back a bit and steps out of the dorm. “Hey, Baby, what’s up?”

You shudder at the pet name and his face drops. “Oh, I don’t know, Theo.”

He pulls you to the other side of the hall and keeps his hands on your arms, comforting both yourself and him. “What’s wrong? Did somebody do something to you?”

The worry on his face seems so genuine, you almost want to believe the bet was a lie— but you’re not that stupid.

“Yeah, Theo, someone hurt me.” You pause. “It was you and your fucking bet.”

He freezes. “Shit. Who told you about that?”

You don’t want to— no, you can’t look in his eyes. “That girl, Tracey, and then Pansy filled in the finer details.” You’re arms are crossed now and he can’t hold you like he was before. “Is that seriously the only thing you care about right now— actually, obviously it would be because I’m just a bet, right?”

He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. “Actually,” you continue. “I don’t want to hear it— just, have a good life, Theo. I’d say we’re over but I don’t think we really ever started to begin with.”

You walk away before you second-guess yourself and ignore as he calls your name. He doesn’t run after you, which you’re equally glad for and disappointed by.

God, you don’t think your heart has ever hurt this bad.

…..

You haven’t seen Theo in class for the whole week after you ‘broke up’; you’ve seen glimpses of him outside, always smoking, or eating in the Great Hall but it’s like he’s intentionally missing every class you have together.

He probably is.

He shouldn't have that right. You’re the one who gets to avoid him, he doesn’t get to avoid you.

You’re the one who got played like a violin and ended up battered and bruised.

You don’t see him for most of your days, but, when you do— when you look at him, his eyes are always already on you.

As a result the other Slytherin boys glance at you while he stares, because of how intensely he does so. You can feel his eyes burning holes into you at all times.

You try your best to ignore him as you stand to leave the Great Hall.

A boy stops you near the entrance, you think you recognize him. He’s the same year as you, and pretty nice as far as you know. His name is Lucas, you’re pretty sure.

“Hey.” Lucas says warmly. “How are you?”

He’s a bit close, and you’re sort of backed into the wall. You laugh awkwardly. “I’m alright, um, how are you?”

He smiles. “About the same,” he looks behind him and then back at you, same easy-going smile that isn’t easy the way Theo’s is. “Anyways, I was wondering… since you broke up with Nott, maybe you’d wanna go out sometime? With me?”

“She doesn’t.”

Lucas’s shoulders jump at the sound of Theo’s voice and he backs away from you and spins to look at Theo, whose standing there with a dangerous look on his face.

You glare at him. “Maybe I do want to.” It’s a challenge and Theo knows it.

Lucas sputters. “You know, I actually realized I’m busy, so…” he scrambles off after that you’re left with Theo.

You scowl at him. “Theo, what the fuck?”

“He’s not good enough for you.” He shrugs like he knows what’s good enough for you. Mr. Bet-Winner.

Your heart aches in your chest just looking at him. “And how would you know what’s good enough for me, Theo? because you sure as hell weren’t.”

He scowls now. “I treated you like you were a fucking princess, Y/n, all he would’ve done was treat you like a piece of ass.”

You huff. “A princess, Theo? None of it was even real!” You spin to walk away but Theo catches your wrist and pulls you back; he slips his other arm around your waist and pulls you right to his chest. Your faces almost touch.

Your breath hitches like the traitor that it is.

He pulls your hand up to rest on his chest, where his heart beats hard and erratically. “Does this feel fake to you?” Theo’s fingers dig lightly into your waist. “Do you honestly think that all of that— everything we said and did— meant nothing?”

His breath fans across your face.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he’s the ice bucket that can save you— but your pride and anger are like the fires of hell; irreparable.

“You took a bet to make me fall for you, Theo, and lucky for you, you won it. How much was I worth, huh?”

He replies almost instantly. “I didn’t take any money, Y/n.” Theo breathes deeply and you feel his chest rise and fall, forcing yours to do the same.

“You— what?” You can feel your resolve cracking, the hope leaking through that somehow you were wrong.

“Let me explain the full story.” He waits for you to give him confirmation; you nod and he continues. “Yes, it started with the bet, and yes, I had never planned for it to last. It was cruel and mean, and I’m sorry. But the thing is, I didn’t anticipate that I would end up falling in love with you right back.” The words feel like a kick to the heart.

“But, on the other hand, how could I not? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and you’re intelligent and funny, you laugh at all my stupid jokes. You love potions more than any other class and you’re really good at it too.” He stops. “Y/n, you’re perfect and I’m so, so sorry I never told you— or, even worse, that I did it in the first place.”

Your heart skips several beats. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.” You’re at a loss for words.

He just looks you over, trying to assess what’s running through your mind like he always does. “Please forgive me, Y/n. I love you so much it hurts.”

You pull away from him and he reluctantly lets go, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

“You’re serious?” You ask quietly. “No bets this time? Nothing you haven’t told me?”

He shakes his head, giving you the saddest, puppy-dog look, unintentionally.

You’re silent for another long moment before, finally, you say: “you love me?”

Theo looks into your eyes. “God, yes.”

“Okay.” You say softly.

He straightens. “Okay, you’ll get back together with me or Okay, I don’t forgive you?”

You hold up one finger and he seems to understand because he pulls you back into him so quickly and presses his lips to mine; you kiss him back, and kind of stand there, kissing, for a long moment. Probably longer than you should’ve.

But you wish he never had to stop.

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[girlgenius1111]

i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best

alexia and r post alexia's surgery :)

no warnings!

-----

If your flight from England hadn't been delayed, you wouldn't have missed it. Alexia wouldn't have had to go back for a surgery she was terrified for without you next to her. The universe didn't seem to be on either of your guys' side recently. You wouldn't have gone home for Christmas, content to stay in town with Alexia and be with her before the surgery, but she had insisted. Your girlfriend was never more stubborn when it came to your wellbeing, and she seemed to think you needed to go home for the holidays, so you did.

Alexia's mom had called when you landed, telling you that only that the surgery had gone well, and that Alexia was home resting now. So, instead of heading right to the hospital like you planned, you changed course for your girlfriend's apartment.

It was quiet when you walked in, not that you expected anything different.

"Hola, y/n," Eli said, pulling you into a hug. You were going to ask for more details about the surgery, but Eli was already heading towards the door.

"She's very grouchy, she's been asking for you. Good luck in there," she informed you, before heading out of the apartment.

If Alexia had scared her mom off, you weren't exceptionally excited to see what awaited you in the bedroom. Alexia had been in a seemingly permanent bad mood for weeks, since she'd injured her knee in the first place. It was hell for her, you knew, not being able to play, so while you weren't thrilled with her behavior, you understood it. You headed to the bedroom door, preparing yourself for Grumpy Alexia, before gently opening it and stepping in.

You found Alexia as you expected, reclined on the bed, knee propped up on a throw pillow, staring out the window. Her expression was the same as it had been for weeks; jaw tight, brows furrowed, eyes devoid of their usual spark. What you didn't expect, however, was for her to turn to you the minute you walked into the room, eyes immediately pooling with tears, lip jutting out slightly at the sight of you.

"Ale," you said, walking closer to the bed where she lay. You wrapped your arms around her upper body, feeling her tremble against you. She held tight, hiding her face in your shirt, and you let her. Her hair was in a bun behind her head, and you pulled the hair tie out carefully, beginning to run your fingers through the smooth blonde strands. You hadn't seen her cry in weeks; she'd been the picture of strength since her injury, not allowing anyone, even you, to see how she was really feeling about the whole thing.

The state she was in worried you. Eli had said the surgery went well, but Alexia was acting like it hadn't.

"What did the doctor say?" you asked quietly, guiding her face away from your shirt. You probably could have waited a little longer for her to calm down before asking, but you weren't sure you could handle not knowing for another minute.

"It is fine. He cleaned the area, and there is nothing wrong. I should be back in a month and a half." Alexia said, although her expression didn't really match the news- this was best case scenario.

"That's incredible," you told her, cupping her flushed cheek with your hand. She nodded, but tears still fell. "Why are you crying, love?"

"I missed you," she replied, avoiding your eyes. She was normally not that vulnerable with you, and you were beginning to think whatever the doctor had put her on was making her more emotional than usual.

"I missed you too, so much," you assure her. "This is good, Ale, you're gonna be back. Soon." She pulls back from you, wiping at her face harshly.

"Yes," she said, nodding. "I was just really scared, and now I am relieved, and I am not really sure why I am crying. I just missed you." Alexia looked genuinely confused at her emotional state, and you bit back a laugh.

"That's okay, baby. But I'm here now, yeah? And everything is okay."

"Si, todo esta bien," she replies, almost as if trying to convince herself.

"Do you need anything? Food, water, ice?"

"No. Come lay with me?" She requests, reaching out to tug you closer to the bed by your shirt.

"Of course. Let me change first, I'm all airport-y." Alexia pouts slightly at that, but releases you. You love clingy Alexia; she almost never let herself be like this, only when she was sick, or hurt.

You change, heading back over to the bed, sliding in next to your girlfriend. You're extra careful, not wanting to jostle her knee at all, leaving some distance in between the two of you. Alexia bypasses that completely, shifting over until she's laying half on top of you, head turned to rest her cheek against your chest. You allow her to get comfortable on top of you before you wrap your arms around her. Her hands come to rest over yours, and she sighs contentedly.

You flick the TV on, not really caring what was on, much preferring to watch Alexia drift off. Just when you think she has, though, you hear her soft voice.

"I thought I might be done." You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Alexia was a dramatic person, clearly. No one had ever even considered the idea that she wouldn't be back, except her. Her fears were real, though, and she didn't need to hear that they were irrational.

"I knew you wouldn't be," you tell her.

"How?"

You think for a minute, deciding whether or not Alexia would make fun of you for being gushy. You were pretty sure she would, but she'd appreciate your words regardless.

"I just did. The way I know I love you, the way I know you're the person for me. You just know sometimes. I knew you'd come back, because you're strong, and you don't give up. You fight hard for the things you want. I had every confidence you'd be back on the field with me before long."

Alexia was quiet. You looked down, seeing her biting her lip, thinking hard. You move a hand to run gently over her lip, encouraging her to release it from her teeth, which she does.

"I used to have that confidence in myself. I do not think I do anymore."

You knew this. You'd watched her confidence diminish recently, in the wake of her re-injury. She was more scared than you'd ever seen her.

"I'll have it for you, until you feel it for yourself again. Deal?" Alexia smiles for the first time, looking up at you through her long lashes.

"Deal."

-----

Alexia wasn't out of commission for very long; it was a simple surgery, and she was back on her feet within the week. This had proved to be too long for her, though, because she was practically bouncing off the wall by the time she was given the all clear by the doctor.

She had big plans to cook you dinner, and take care of you for the evening. Between practices and taking care of her, you'd hardly had time to think in the past week, something she was looking to remedy. She'd been sure to thank you, for everything you'd been doing, pairing her words with sweet kisses, letting you know that she really did appreciate all that you'd done for her. It seemed obvious to you that you'd take care of her, and you didn't expect anything in return. You knew Alexia would do the same for you.

Alexia's first day really back to normal was a day you had a double practice. You were exhausted, having been kept up half the night by Alexia's restless tossing and turning, something you didn't dare bring up to her, knowing the guilt would be horrible for her. You returned home, looking forward to collapsing into the couch and not moving until bed, to something you weren't expecting.

Upon walking through the door, the smell of something burning filled your nose. You could hear Alexia cursing to herself, followed by the shattering of some glass, and then some more cursing. You flung your shows off, running into the kitchen.

"Ale?"

She was stood in the middle of the kitchen, a jar of pasta sauce broken on the ground in front of her, a decent amount of smoke coming of the stove. She looks up at you as you walk in, almost helplessly, face flushed with anger.

"Ale, baby," you coo, moving forward to her. She throws an arm out, motioning for you to stop.

"No, amor, there is glass, let me clean it up," she says, clearly upset. She moves slowly over to the paper towels, but you walk around the glass, setting a hand on her arm.

"Go sit down, Ale, I'll clean it up," you tell her, because it looked like she had been on her feet too much, if the way she was resting almost all of her weight on her good leg was any indication.

"No," she tried, but you stopped her.

"I'm not asking, Alexia, go put your knee up," you say, turning your back to her turning the stove off, and removing the smoking pan from it. You heard Alexia leave the room, slowly, and you got to work cleaning everything up. Once the glass and sauce had been taken care of, and you'd opened the windows to air out the room, you followed Alexia out to the living room, looking at your phone.

"What do you want to eat? We can order something," you suggest, thinking Alexia would prefer to not discuss the disaster than had just occurred in the kitchen. Alexia was a good cook, so something must have gone really wrong. Alexia didn't respond, though, and you looked up finally, finding her sitting on the couch, staring at her lap. Her blonde hair fell into her face, blocking you from seeing it.

"Ale?" you ask again, moving forward to take a seat next to her propped up leg. She still doesn't look up at you.

"I am so sorry," she says miserably, voice cracking, and telling you that she was crying.

"Don't worry about it, I've committed worse crimes in the kitchen," you tell her, thinking she was just embarrassed. The blonde woman shook her head though, finally looking up at you. Her lip quivered, and she looked so upset, you couldn't help but reach out and take one of her hands in yours. She flinched, and you looked down, seeing a burn on her palm.

"Shit, Alexia, hold on," you said, moving to go get a cool cloth to put on it. She grabs your shirt though, looking up at you almost pleadingly, and you sit back down. You'd never seen Alexia look at you like that before, like she couldn't bare to be away from you, even for a second.

"What's going on, my love?" you ask.

"I messed dinner up," she says shakily. That may be the understatement of the year, but it doesn't seem like she's in the mood to joke about it yet.

"It's fine, baby, we can just order something, or I'll cook," you tell her. You're still not really sure what the big deal is, and your eyes widen when she responds loudly.

"NO! No. I do not want you to cook," she says. "I wanted to cook for you."

"I appreciate that baby, but really, it's okay,"

"No, it is not okay. You've been so perfect all week, all month, and I try to do one thing for you, and I fuck it up," she sounds so upset at herself, you find yourself frowning at her tone.

"Ale, don't be ridiculous. I've barely done anything." This is definitely not true, but really, it felt like nothing. You'd go to the ends of the earth for the girl next to you, so a few extra chores, taking care of her, seemed easy.

"No, eso no es verdad," she cries, before she inexplicably dissolves into sobs.

"Alexia," you sigh, moving to sit next to her and wrap an arm around her shoulders.

"I am so much work, and I made a mess, and you had to clean it up," she rants, voice muffled from where her face is buried in your shirt.

"Stop that. You aren't a lot of work. I don't mind doing any of the things i've been doing. I'm happy to do them, because it's you. I don't care about cleaning up your mess, I only care that you heal properly," you insist." Alexia doesn't respond, only pushing her face further into your chest.

"Alexia, were you cooking dinner because you felt bad that you've needed me this past week?" you ask tentatively. You get a nod in response. Guiding out from your shirt, you hold her face in between your hands, forcing her to make eye contact with you.

"Love, you don't need to feel bad for needing my help. Ever. I love you, and I'm going to take care of you when you need me, always. You aren't a burden. You don't need to make it up to me. You just need to be you, and I'll be happy."

She looks so unsure, so not like herself. She was ordinarily the picture of intimidation, of confidence. Now, though, she looks up at you with tear filled eyes, listening to your every word like she's not sure she can trust you to tell her the truth.

"Estas segura?" she eventually asks quietly.

"I'm sure, Ale." She gives you a weak smile in response, resting her head back against your chest. You wrap your arms around her, squeezing tight until she laughs lightly against you.

"Sushi?" you ask, and Alexia nods enthusiastically. "Okay, but first, you're letting me treat that burn. How did you even do that?"

"I grabbed something from the oven without oven mitts," she mumbles, and you fight back a laugh. You aren't successful, and her head snaps up to glare at you. "I move slow since the surgery. Everything started burning, and I had no time," she rambles, and you cut her off with a long kiss to her lips.

"I'd eat whatever you burned in that pan if it meant you wouldn't feel like you need to compensate me for taking care of you." Alexia blushes. There is silence for a minute.

"You could not tell what it was?" she asks timidly.

"...Chicken?"

"Garlic and onions," she replies dejectedly.

This time you don't try to fight off your laugh, but Alexia laughs with you, and the sound of it relaxes your whole body, doing more for you than a candlelit dinner ever could.

-----

[oneofnanamisgirls]

Toji Fushiguro Pt.3

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synopsis: texting toji after shiu woke you up from the job and toji comes over

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cw: ed/disordered eating mentioned, cursing, and honestly i can’t remember (sorry).

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A/N: heyy, sorry this took so long to post. i’ve been soo busy with schoolwork lately. likes/comments/reblogs are always appreciated <33

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your thumb hovers over the call button, debating whether or not to call him. would it be weird to call him this late?

you hear your brother shut the door of his bedroom. he would be going to sleep, he is a heavy sleeper.

you click the call button and wait.

"mphello." toji's voice was muffled.

"god, you really need to stop talking with your mouth full." you roll your eyes at him.

"how is it my fault you decide to call me as i am stuffing my face?" his voice was clear this time.

"i was debating if i actually wanted to call you or not."

"yeah and what's so wrong with talking to me?" you can hear the annoyance in his voice.

"stop being so defensive." you want to yell at him, but you whisper it out instead.

"you won't wake him up, he sleeps like a damn mummy." you laugh at his joke, knowing its true.

"that's true. what are you eating?" you ask curiously, remembering that you fell asleep before having dinner earlier.

"some leftover takeout from earlier. let me guess what you had, that pasta that you always make? with the orangey sauce." he asks, knowing that the pasta dish is his favorite and he is looking to score some.

"actually i passed out before eating earlier." you tell him as you put the phone on speaker and turn to lay on your side.

"you do that a lot." he mentions.

"i didn't realize you pay that much attention to me." you chuckle.

"aside from shiu, you are the only other person i see often."

"i take it as a compliment." you smirk to yourself.

"it wasn't, you shouldn't do that." he isn't entertaining the idea of it being a compliment.

"i mean that you pay attention to me." you defend.

"yeah i got that, but you have to eat. especially after a night like last night." he tells you. you can hear shuffling around from his end of the phone.

"forgetting to eat because i was asleep is not the end of the world toji. it was an honest mistake." you shift to the other side.

"it's been more than once. you think i don't realize? when shiu and i have late nights into the morning and you ask him to bring home food because you wake up starving?" he sounds mad.

"why are you lecturing me on this? i'm not doing it on purpose. i don't get why you are so mad over this." you speak defensively.

"i know about the shit from when you were a teenager y/n, i'm not dumb." he states as you hear the door locking through the phone.

"that was years ago toji. i was sick back then. you need to relax about this. i'm not doing it on purpose. i told you that. shiu knows." you explain yourself to him.

"bullshit." he scoffs as you hear an engine rumble in the background.

"where are you going?" you ask him.

"for a drive." he says coldly.

"i miss when you were being nice to me." you sigh.

"whatever, bye." the phone disconnects and you scoff at his ignorance. you should have known that he would flip to being a dick.

you realize that you didn't even shower either, and the warm water is just what you need. when looking for apartments, shiu insisted on both rooms having their own bathroom. you shut the bathroom down and have your shower.

the hot water made you feel better. you dry yourself off with the towel before wrapping it around your body.

"jesus christ!" you shout, noticing toji on your bed. "what the hell are you doing here?"

"brought you some food." he says nudging toward the bag on your desk.

"get out!" you point toward the door.

"not until you have dinner. what the hell is your problem?" he rolls his eyes.

"my problem is you invite yourself into my room without even telling me! i am also in a towel for gods sake."

"what are you embarrassed? its a towel, not like you are butt ass naked."

"seriously get out of my room!" you tell him again.

"fine." he waltzes out, shutting the door behind him.

he has some nerve, showing up unannounced. with frustration, you put clothes on without a care. you pause in the middle of pulling your pajama pants on when you realize you forgot to put lotion on. you groan out before sitting at the edge of your bed to apply the lotion to your legs.

you open the door, signaling to toji that you are finished and he can return. you apply your moisturizer in front of the mirror atop your dresser. toji makes himself comfortable at your desk chair.

"i'm surprised you even own clothes as skimpy as what you wore the other night. around here you always wear such baggy stuff." he states.

"can you just stop talking?" you're annoyed.

"look, i'm sorry for scaring you earlier and being a dick. you gotta realize that you and shiu are basically all i have. don't want anything happening to either of you." he tells you with little emotion in his voice.

"it's fine, but i don't need you to act like a parent to me. that stuff with the eating was almost a decade ago. i was really sick. i'm good now." you explain to him.

"i know, i'm sorry."

"did you just apologize to me? i swear i am still asleep. pinch me." you stick your arm out to him.

"haha very funny." he isn't amused. he takes a box from the bag he brought in and hands it to you. it was some plain noodles.

you thank him as he hands you a fork. he lets you sit in the chair to eat. you notice from the corner of your eye that he is looking at the stuff in your room. you let him browse the decor and the other things that decorate your room. you weren't embarrassed by anything, not even the stuffed bear on your bed. you were too mesmerized by the food. until you hear him start opening up drawers.

"get your filthy, greedy hands out of my drawers." you state, not even turning around to him.

"what? you got something you think i might find?" he asks, taunting you.

"no, it's rude to look through people's things." you say to him, taking your last bite.

"don't act so surprised by it then, especially from me." he tells you, truthfully. he isn't always this nice, if you could even say that.

"have some manners fushiguro." you treat him like a kid.

"back to the last names i see. ten years of knowing you and we are back to square one." he sits at the edge of your bed, manspreading of course.

"what did i say about manners?" you question rhetorically walking to him. you push his knees closed a bit. he looks up at you with his eyes, almost daring you to touch him again. "keep dreaming."

"you are the one dreaming." he uses your words back at him.

"why are you still here? you fed me, therefore you know i'm not sick." you cross your arms against your chest.

"we are both awake, might as well hang out." he shrugs his shoulders.

"god if we are actually hanging out, let me take a cigarette from shiu first." you playfully tease.

"i'm not that bad." he tries. "plus you don't smoke."

"not in front of you." you push your arms closer to your body.

"liar." he pokes.

you walk out of your room, grab a cigarette from the box that is tossed on the kitchen counter aside shiu's keys. you take the lighter from the box before walking to the door of the apartment. toji follows you outside, where you look out over the railing. you walk to the area farther away from the other apartments, finding yourself in your favorite corner of the balcony.

you sit on the stool that someone left when they moved out. the area you live in is a nicer area, but it's still in the city. as you take your first drag, toji waits for you to start coughing. when you don't, he raises an eyebrow.

"told you." you blow the smoke away from him.

"i guess we are just learning more about each other today." he leans against the railing next to you. you look around for the outside cat that always comes to your lap.

"hi sweet girl." you coo as the white cat, you have named edie, jumps into your lap.

"crazy cat lady." toji chuckles.

"her name is edie." you pet her and release your fist, letting her take the treat out of you palm.

"why don't you bring it inside?" he asks, receiving a glare from you.

"she is an outside cat, she has always been. i feed her everyday and got a little house for her where she sleeps. i tried bringing her in, but she kept wanting to go back outside." you tell him and then taking another drag. you pet edie with your empty hand, remembering that you have to give her some flea medicine soon.

toji can't help but admire your softness with the cat. he knows you are always soft with things that are precious to you. he is almost jealous of the way you are soft with a stray cat, you were never soft with him.

edie jumps off your lap and runs off to the stairs. you drop the cigarette butt on the ground, letting toji step on it. the sun begins to rise in the distance, you should try to get some rest.

"you look tired." toji notices.

"getting there." you lean your head back against the corner column. the tiredness hits you like a ton of bricks.

he offers a hand to pull you up from the stool. you stumble to your feet, clutching to his tee shirt in fear of falling. your head falls into his chest, you're unsure about the proximity. you were never this close up to him.

"sorry." you stumble back, he was unbothered. you slowly shift your feet back to the apartment, ready to brush your teeth and go to sleep for a few more hours.

you mumble a goodnight to toji, as he gets himself comfortable on the large couch in the living room. you don't wait for a response.

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taglist: @en-happiness

[blankiebloo]

I AM SO EMBARRASSED IN MYSELFFF- So the person who asked for that Scaramouche fanfic this is for you because I accidentally posted it without it being done<3 So here's your Scaramouche angst<33

Scaramouche x Gn!Reader

Genre: Angst to fluff

Warning(s): Yelling, fighting, cursing.

Note: You and Scara have separate rooms because yeah<3

It's been tough this entire week for both you and your partner; but it seems that Scaramouche has had the tougher situation out the two of you, with his annoying coworkers to his incompetent subordinates who seem to never do anything right in his eyes. He's just been having a hard time, but he finally has a week off and a little while ago he promised you that the next time he has free time he'll spend it with you, and that time is now!

-◇-◇-◇-◇-◇-◇-◇-◇-◇-◇-◇-◇-

"Scara?" You ask as you knock on his bedroom door.

You could hear a small groan from the opposite side as he got up and opened the door only to snap back a, "What do you want."

"Are you not happy to see me?" You asked, a slight joking pout on your lips as you poke his cheek.

You know how he gets, but you also know that he can't resist your pouting face for long, well, at least that’s how it normally was. Instead of his normal sigh and moving your hand to his lips and looking away, he grabbed your wrist tightly and gave you the sharpest gaze that you haven't seen in years.

"I'm not in the mood for your games, [Name]. Now, what. Do. You. Want." His tone was cold, and sharp as a knife, but he made a promise and he should keep it.

"Scaraaa, you promised me that you'd spend time with me once you weren't so busy," you playfully whined, putting the pout back on in hopes of it lightning his mood.

But instead it had the opposite effect, his grip on your wrist was tightening and the look of anger on his face only seemed to get worse.

"Ow! Scara, that hurts!" You say as you start to pull your arm back, he let's go and chooses to try and relieve the headache that is slowly forming as he brings his hand up to the bridge of his nose and rubs it.

"Look, [Name], I'm not in the mood right now. We can talk and spend time later."

"But-"

"[Name], what the fuck did I just say?!" He snaps, his eyes looking at you like he's about to stab you. "You are so fucking clingy! I'm telling you that I'm not in the mood for this and what do you do? Continue to pester me!" He shouts as he comes closer to you and closes his door behind him.

"I'm sorry Scara-" You choke out, starting to feel tears forming at your lash line.

"No, I'm done with this! You decide to be super fucking clingy and think you can just do whatever you want! You honestly need to control your damn emo...tions..." He cut himself off when he heard a small sniffle coming from you, opening his eyes he only sees you with tears streaming down your face.

"[Name], I'm so sorry-"

"No, no, it's fine. I'm gonna go, I just remembered my friends wanted to go out with me today. I'll see you later, alright Scara?"

"[Name], wait-"

You turned around and started walking out to the front door, wiping at your tears along the way. He wanted to reach out for you and hold you closer to him and tell you he's sorry but, does he even deserve the chance to talk right now? He just stands there until you leave his view and he heads back into his room for his, "well deserved nap".

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You came back in the middle of the night hoping that Scaramouche was already asleep so you could just sneak into your room and go to sleep without him noticing. Luckily, you did! You got to your room without waking him up, so you quickly changed into your night clothes and hopped into bed and got comfortable underneath the covers.

You honestly felt so relaxed right now, that walk around the city earlier really helped you clear your mind and forget about what happened, but what did happen again? You're trying to remember, what made you so sad in the first place- Oh, right. The fight. You started to recall everything, the anger in his face and voice, the way he grabbed onto your wrist so tight.

It came crashing into your memories all at once, making you cry once again. But maybe your crying distracted you because the next thing you know Scara is next to you in bed and you've been flipped over to where your face is in his chest as he strokes your hair.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay, it's okay. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, [Name]." He whispered to you, pulling your body closer to him if that was even possible.

"S-scara?" Your voice was small, but bold. You let out a sigh, and nuzzled your head into his chest. "I'm, I'm sorry-"

"No. There's no need to say sorry, not right now. I'm the one who yelled at you because you reminded me of a promise I made, there's no need to apologize."

You chuckled, "You really know how to confuse me"

"Do you want my apology or would you rather continue to just lay here in sorrow?"

"Hm, I guess I would rather have your apology"

"Good."

A/N: I FINISHED THIS!!! And thank you @plasmasimagination for the request!! I don't know if this lived up to your standards but here this is! And if any of you would like to request something for me to write, here is my request form! Thank you for reading my fic!

[corpsentry]

it’s so funny to me when people make posts that are like i hate it when fandom mischaracterizes my favorite blorbo/fandom needs to stop reading the story this way/fandom reduces my blorbo to xyz trait when they actually contain multitudes bc they clearly have things they like and care about re: the topic but instead of simply sharing their thoughts they have to preface their joy with this kicking at the table leg bit that emphasizes how correct their opinion is and how everyone else is Lame and also Wrong like mein gotte it’s barbie dolls on some 35 year old who works in software engineering’s macbook you have contributed nothing to society by telling jessica from ohio software engineer to deepen their understanding of sakusa kiyoomi haikyuu. ‘fandom always ignores/forgets that’ ok and? your problem is? ? ? maybe people are happy writing chilfuck as a babygirl or marcille as something other than a girlfailure in which case good for them!! it sparks joy yahhhh!!! i’ve blocked enough people on twitter to mostly be at peace these days but tumblr is Not Safe everywhere i go on my dash there are these weirdos who think everyone else is doing fandom wrong. you silly man. you absolute buffoon. you mysterious moralist

like listen i am the most literaturepilled mf out here so i think i’m entitled to yap about this i like my characters fucked up and bizarre and quadruple-faced and so only read very particular fics but maine gotte i will not complain about it publicly because that’s my business! other people are here for other things. escapism. joy. Oviposition. and that’s great because life’s boring when it’s just you and 10 other guys like you. i’m telling you morally outraged random 18 y/o the oviposition guy is the key to the universe and i’m Old and Tired now so every time someone puts that ‘marcille is more than a genius and people need to stop writing her like awooga booga whatever the fuck’ shit on my dash they’re catching that block like a fist flying out of a can of tuna oh yeah i’m closing my eyes i do not see your dumb ahh shit i go to bed

[kieran-granola]

for post-kinktober prompts—how do you feel about jaytim & a predator/prey dynamic? the particulars of that are in your hands, especially since you’ve yet to write a fic i didn’t enjoy <3

The sweat dripping from Tim’s hair stings his eyes with salt.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been running, but it’s been a while since he gave up on presentability. His lungs are burning. The ambient noise of the city has been swallowed by the beating of his heart in his ears. Every step he takes turns his body heavier and heavier, and he can tell that it won’t be long before it fails him altogether. He leaps from one building to the next on shaky legs, the taste of iron rich in his mouth—

A hard body collides into him mid-air.

His assailant plucks him out of the sky with an easy strength that reminds him of Kon. Tim tries to use their momentum to roll away when they land — to escape, not to fight, not this time, not when he's so obviously outmatched — but he fails. His head spins as he finds himself pinned to the rooftop on his belly, panting into the gravel with his arms twisted behind his back.

“Gotcha,” the Red Hood hums into his ear, the modulated voice coldly steady.

Tim’s heart quickens impossibly. Fuck. He’s been caught. There’s no way for him to free himself, not without breaking something. He should have left his pride behind and called Batman and Robin for help. He should have run for Cass's patrol route instead of trying to reach his Nest. He should have done anything but try to outrun the Hood on his home turf.

He hears a click and a hiss behind him, then the sound of Jason's helmet hitting the ground. He scrunches his eyes shut on instinct as Jason leans down to lick his cheek. His tongue is warm and wet. By contrast, the air feels freezing when it hits the trail of saliva on Tim's skin.

“You gave me a good chase, little bird," Jason praises. His luminescent eyes give the night an unsettling green glow. "It's going to make taking you all the more enjoyable."

"You can't do this," Tim tries. "You won't get away with it."

Jason laughs. "Yeah? Who's going to stop me?"

"Batman knows where I am. You know that."

Jason ties Tim's wrists together with the ease of practice. He finds the closure of Tim's suit without a hint of hesitation and pulls the zipper down far enough to expose his throat and the curve of one shoulder.

"And where are you? On your territory. Two blocks away from your own bed. Do you think he'll be worried when he sees that your tracker has stopped moving here?"

"There are cameras everywhere."

"Not in the Alley, there aren't."

Jason straddles Tim's thighs, his weight heavy and foreboding. Leather whispers behind Tim's back, then Jason's hands find his throat. They don't linger, but the threat of suffocation is enough for his pulse to spike… right before humiliation blooms in his stomach as he realizes that Jason is collaring him.

"You can't just—You can't just claim me like this. Let me go."

"Birdie, I caught you. I'll do whatever I damn well please."

The collar falls into place, its buckle burningly cool against Tim's nape. Tim's body goes pliant as a wave of submission crashes into him.

So this is it, then.

He lost.

Oh, of course, he could hurt himself. Thrash, bite, fight like a trapped wolf gnawing its own paw off. He could spit and scream, and hope for anyone to stumble on them. But he's so tired. His head goes fuzzy as the last dredges of adrenaline fail him, and he lets the buzz fill him from head to toe.

Jason hums in approval. Then, with a possessive growl, he sinks his teeth into Tim's exposed shoulder.

———

(Later, when they're done, the collar will come off. Jason will help Tim clean himself up, and massage his sore arms. He'll carry him to their shared bed and compensate for chasing him and fucking him to exhaustion by feeding him and holding him safe and sound.

He'll be kind, considerate, and tame. Nothing like the ruthless predator Tim asked him to be.

But Tim will remember the chase. He'll remember the fear, the exhilaration, and the rush of submission. He'll remember being owned, and helpless in all the ways he never dared to want.

And somewhere, deep down, he'll hope that his skin will hold the shape of Jason's teeth and remember it too.)

[qveerthe0ry]

Lions Ain't the Kind - Part 3.5

Summary: Frankie asks you about transitioning Pairing: Frankie Morales x NB/Gender-fluid! AFAB! Reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, talks about gender non-conformity, talks about gender dysphoria, mentions of transitioning, mentions of HRT and gender affirming surgery, chest binding, use of packers A/N: I said I wasn't going to post anymore of this series until July but I was WRONG! I wote this for @romanarose 's Pride Event. Week 2: Transitioning. I realized that writing this little snippet would actually add a lot of depth to reader and explain more about what their gender identity means to them (while also reiterating that Frankie is a perfect little sweetie pie)

“Do you ever want to get surgeries? You know, like, gender affirming ones?”

You pause Netflix to turn to Frankie, shirtless and looking at you with genuine curiosity. 

“Why do you ask?” 

His brows draw up.

“Just wondering. This is all kinda new to me, I guess, and I’ve done some research… I just know it’s an option and— yeah, I mean— I really am just curious.”

The backs of his knuckles trace your arm, and goosebumps form there. 

“That’s a bit of a loaded question, honestly. Do you want the short answer or the long answer?”

He smiles, soft, and you swear he’s an angel with that halo of curls framing his head. 

“I wanna know whatever you wanna tell me.”

You smile too, tangle your legs with his under the sheets and get relaxed for the conversation you’ve never been so comfortable having before now. 

“So… basically, I think the pros and cons completely stalemate each other. You know? There are things about hormones and surgery that I’d enjoy. But… because I’m so fluid, I’d also sometimes not enjoy them. Does that make sense?” 

Frankie nods, “I think so, yeah.”

“And that’s the thing— Right now, there are things about my natural body that sometimes I like, and then sometimes those same things make me uncomfortable.”

“Dysphoria?” He asks, a timid and sad tone weighing down the word. 

“Yeah— exactly. Look at you, Mister Research.” 

A bashful dimple appears as he ducks his head. 

“So, there’s things I have that help. They’re temporary… but… so is the dysphoria. I think, for me, the best decision is to lean into those temporary aides. I mean for one, it’s cheaper. And much less invasive. Why go through all of that just to be in the same boat, y’know?”

“Yeah, I get that. I’m sorry you have to compromise, though. Sounds… Not easy.”

You shrug, but you’re smiling, because it’s quite thrilling to have someone so understanding in your corner, and your bed, and your life. 

“Thank you. You’re right, y’know, it isn’t easy. Especially when it comes to dating. So it’s really nice that you’re… Well— that you’re you.”

A surprised breath leaves him as his eyes light up. 

“It’s nice that you’re you, too. I like you, everything about you.”

It’s silent for a moment as you stare at each other, smiling, sunny, giddy almost. 

“What— umm… What are those things that help? You don’t have to tell me, but… If you want to, I’d like to know.”

You nod. 

“Yeah okay.”

You take a deep breath and debate on what would be easiest to start with. 

“You know how you asked me what those marks were on my back yesterday? In the shower?”

“Yeah, you said it was just indents from your blanket. Were they not?”

You shake your head. 

“I use this stuff called transtape. It’s used to bind your chest, you know? So it looks flat? Sometimes it leaves little marks— like a bandaid would.”

“So it’s like a binder? But… tape, instead of a garment?”

“Exactly. I was wearing it that day you… it’s why I haven’t really let you touch, yet. It’s kind of unsexy to explain in the moment.”

“Why didn’t you wear it in the shower? Should I not have looked?”

Worry creases his brow, but you huff a laugh and grab his hand. 

“No, it’s okay. I wanted to shower with you, and I needed to replace it anyway. It— I mean, like I’ve said, sometimes it bothers me and sometimes it doesn’t. I felt like we were in a rush, and it wasn’t… sexual. And I felt comfortable with you like that. I knew you wouldn’t gawk or… comment, or anything. I liked being able to just be myself with you, and having you still see me as me.”

“Oh, okay. I mean… I liked what I saw. Is that… okay to say?”

You roll your eyes and laugh.

“Yes, you’re allowed to like my tits, Pretty Boy.” 

He flushes, but his eyes glance down to your chest in a brief flicker. 

“You’re wearing the tape, now?”

“I am. Do you wanna see?” 

“I— I mean, yeah. If you wanna show me.”

So you do. You slowly slide your shirt off, and you bare yourself. You feel confident, which is new, in a situation like this. 

He stares, like he’s studying you. His eyes take catalog of the different pieces, the way they’re shaped, the way they hold everything up and back and flatten. 

His fingers twitch under yours, and you squeeze them before letting go. 

“You can touch,” you whisper. 

He does. In an instant, his fingers gently trace the edge of the tape, then his palm covers it all, right over your heart that’s pounding. 

“You’re so… fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t wanna be weird. You’re just really hot.”

You do preen a bit, even if you don’t want to admit it. He makes you feel so good about who you are. 

“That’s not weird. I think you’re hot too, so it’s good we’re on the same page.”

He hums, traces his middle finger down the center of your chest, so light it tickles. 

“What else?” 

“Huh?”

“There’s more, right? More… aides?”

You nod slowly. 

“You know what a packer is?” 

He nods slowly. 

“I’ve read about them. I haven’t seen one.”

“I haven’t worn one around you. It could be confusing at first, right?”

You feel sweat start to prickle at the back of your neck. 

“It could be, yeah. I get that. You can, now. You always could have, you know?” 

“Yeah, I know, now.”

He clears his throat, and gives you a signature Frankie grin, and the room starts to feel a little less stifling. 

“If you want to show me, I’d like to see. I wanna know everything about you, when you’re ready for me to.” 

You debate for a minute, how to show him, which one to show him, before you get out of bed and duck down to grab the box that’s under your bed frame. 

“I have a few, they’re all different,” you start to explain. 

You set the box next to him, then crawl into bed too, and unhook the latches on the lid. 

He sits patiently as you open it, and you’re afraid to look at him when they’re revealed. 

“That’s a lot of penises. Peni?”

You choke on an awkward, startled laugh and shake your head. 

“I know, I know.”

“No, it’s cool. I wish I could have a different dick for each occasion.”

And he’s laughing with you, not at you, and you finally brave a look at his face. 

His eyes run curious circles around the inside of the box, but when he notices you watching him, his gaze falls on you again. 

“Tell me about them.” 

So you do. 

You explain that the smaller one is easiest to wear in public without feeling awkward, but still feeling euphoric. The mid-sized one is usually for the odd occasion where you go out to clubs or bars or other queer spaces. The biggest one, you tell him, is for when you’re just at home, and you want to be able to look in the mirror and see you, on those days where you need to be as masculine as possible. 

“What about this one? It’s smaller too.” 

“It’s uhh… well, it’s a 3-in-1.”

“What does that mean?”

You pull it out of the box to show him the back of it. 

“So this is like— so I can pee standing up. And then this” you say, grabbing the rod that’s lying in the box, “is to make it hard. So I can penetrate, or ‘jerk off’ with it. I don’t wear it out much, except for maybe when I’m gonna be out all day and I don’t know the bathroom situation.” 

You look up to find his eyes and mouth both wide. 

“That’s sick,” he says, then swiftly adds— “in a good way. I didn’t know that was a thing.” 

You hum and nod. 

“Do you… wish you were wearing one? Right now?” 

And it’s kinda weird, the way he asks so innocently, but you really do. Especially with the way you’re shirtless and taped up right in front of him. 

“Kinda, yeah.” 

“Can I see it? You can say no. But— how does it work? Like, is it secure?” 

You place your 3-in-1 back in the box, and grab your medium sized one. 

“Let me show you.” 

You’re already wearing your favorite briefs to pack with. You have a lot of pairs and they’re comfy with or without. So you shed your sweatpants and get up on your knees to show him.

“There’s a secret pocket in here,” you tell him, “these aren’t good for the 3-in-1, since the pocket is between the packer and my skin. But I have different underwear for those.” 

He nods, and watches you pull the waistband down to show him the pocket. 

“You could keep snacks in there, too.” 

You laugh at the silly look in his eyes. 

“Not sure they’d be that good, all pressed up against my crotch.”

“I’d eat ‘em,” he says, and wiggles his eyebrows for good measure. 

“Noted,” you joke, “so— yeah, I just, put it in here.”

And you do, sliding the packer into place and fiddling the waistband back.

“I mean, usually I look in the mirror to make sure it looks right, adjust it so it doesn’t pinch anything when I walk.” 

He nods as he stares at your crotch, and his hand reaches out to wrap around your thigh. 

“And it feels good? To have that there?” 

“Yeah, when I’m dysphoric. Just having that weight there, it feels real and right.” 

He smiles at this, so wide, so sweet. 

“Wear it around me. When you want to. I want you to feel that way, always. Okay?”

Your throat feels a little thick, and your eyes sting a bit, but you still smile. 

“Okay,” you whisper. 

“C’mere,” he whispers back. 

You close your box and place it on the floor, as quick as you can. He pulls you to him tight, and it feels incredible, to have all of your bare skin against his own, finally, nothing but your tape in between you. 

He kisses you without a bit of urgency, just lax and syrupy. His hand is firm against your spine, pressing you to him, and you feel dizzy when he pulls away. 

“Thank you for showing me everything,” he says.

“Thanks for… just… being cool.” 

He chuckles, then coaxes you on your back, so his head can take its coveted position back, over your chest. Your naked, flat chest. You hold the remote toward the TV, intent on unpausing your show, but he stops you. 

“Can I hold it?”

“The remote?”

“No— your dick. Just to keep it warm? No funny business.” And he’s looking up at you with those damn eyes again, and how could you say no to that?

last part/next part

[zarvasace]

I've been doing my hair in full, tight ponytails more often thanks to a new-ish custodial job, and recently discovered that the practice broke some of my hair around my face into wispy pusedo-bangs. I resolved to do more braids instead and complained about it to my sister.

"Well," she said, "that's just a Long Hair Experience (TM)." (I'm paraphrasing, she doesn't speak like a meme.) At the time, I replied with "yeah, I guess" but after thinking about it, I think I would say something different.

I do a lot of things every day: fail to get out of bed on time, get dressed, figure out how to do my makeup for maximum impact and minimum fuss, make food, buy food, decide what to spend my time on... A lot. I don't call myself very busy, but I do fill my days with things I consider fairly important.

A message I hear over and over again is that what I do is "enough." As a visual artist, I recently got into a conversation with another artist about how I posted something they found very good and I'm not allowed to talk about how I don't think I'm very good anymore. I think there's truth in sentiments like that—what is "enough," anyway? You do need to be happy with your work. You need to enjoy what you do.

Still, that conversation left a bad taste in my mouth. I like what I make, but I want to be better. What I do might be fine. I can be satisfied with that, and not just in art, but I also... don't have to be.

I choose to be satisfied in a lot of things. I don't really work to improve my music skills because I can do what I want with what I have. I don't look up videos about how to be a better driver or a better cook. I don't worry about the zipper of my combat boots rubbing into my long socks, because I decided to not stress about it. I do consciously try to improve my art and writing skills, though, because I'm not satisfied with where they are.

In the same way, I'm always finding little things in my life to do more efficiently or with more precision. I changed my handwriting because I didn't like it. I decided to pronounce my Ss a little differently. I'm currently making an effort to wear more tights because I like them.

People often tell me that I (or my work or whatever) am enough, and I only disagree because "enough" is a flawed concept. In the spirit of the encouragement, I do agree. I can be happy where I am, with the skills and habits I have. But, like I said, I don't have to be. If I don't like something I do, I can change it. I don't have to settle for any reason.

I guess the point is: you can do just as much as you want. Happy with your stick figures? I'm glad! You go! Unhappy with them (as everyone tells me they are when they see a drawing of mine they're impressed with)? You can learn to do better, if you want to!

In my case, I don't like the little wispy bangs. Sure, it's a Long Hair Hazard, but I don't have to be satisfied with that. I don't like them, I can do something different. It doesn't have to be dramatic. I like my life overall—at least the things I can control—and I'm pretty sure it's because I've made a lot of little decisions to improve it in ways I care about. I think I've figured out that I can control a lot about my daily life, and I'm happier because of it. :) I'm going to keep doing more braids in my hair.

TL;DR: You get to decide how good you are at something. You can keep improving or stop where you are, and either is valid. You get to decide what's important to you. Don't listen to haters.

[footballfanficwriter]

Le Capitaine

Summary:The reader gets a call from Kylian telling her important news

A/N: This can be part 2 to "suprise" the previous Kylian Fan fic I wrote or it can be it's own part it's up too you how you wanna read it

Also don't play the song yet I'll let you know when though

Kylian just left for the International break and he's meeting the rest of the French team today for the first time after the world cup, I'm sitting in the living room scrolling on my phone while eating my chocolate chip cookies,that rest on top of my bump

Kylian was so happy to leave the house and meet his teammates, he wouldn't shut up about how excited he is to see them again

As I'm scrolling on my phone I see that the FFF has posted on their Instagram story

I see the reel of the players arriving

That's until I see Kylian

Wearing, his Jean's, turtle neck ,shades and nikes with a long coat

I'm so glad I picked the look out for him because he looks more handsome than he usually looks, instead he wanted to wear sweatpants and a hoodie

Before Kylian left (play song above)

"Put those back in the closet"

"No, I'm putting them on"

"Kylian"

"Fine"

He puts the clothes in the closet and walks out asking

"What must I wear then?"

"Here I already picked out your outfit while you were in the shower"

"Ooh this looks nice"

"I know, now go get dressed"

He grabs the clothes and starts walking to bathroom until he stops in his tracks

"What, what is it"

He turns around and runs towards me, grabs my face and starts kissing my face,then he bends down,lifts my shirt up and kisses my belly

He looks me in the eyes and says

"J t'aime"

"J t'aime Aussi,what was that for?

"I'm just thinking how lucky I am to have you in my life"

"You're so corny" I say with a bright smile that can't resist giving

"Whatever"

"Now go get dressed" I say and I push him to the bathroom"

I finish packing his clothes and zip his bag up and putting it on the floor

Then I feel my stomach get kicked from the inside

"Ooh" I say putting my hand on my stomach

"What is it?" Kylian asks

"She's kicking" I say

"Can I feel"

"Yeah"

I sit on the edge of the bed and Kylian goes on his knees and in between my legs , then slightly lifts my shirt up"

He puts his hand on my belly and the baby starts kicking where is hand is

Kylian slightly laughs and looks at me

I smile at him and he does the same

"Hey little one, are you giving your mom trouble? Huh, I can already tell you're gonna be a hand full when you get here"

"I can't wait for you to be here, you're gonna have the best mom in the whole entire world, she's gonna love you to death, and I'll be here to protect you from the dangers of the world, I promise, to always try to keep you happy and love you no matter what happens, and we promise to support you and your dreams and wishes no matter what they are"

As I hear Kylian speaking I end up crying,I don't know what it is but I think it's my hormones

It warms my heart to hear him speak like that

I know it won't be easy being a mother and all but I know that if I have Kylian, it'll be manageable

He stands up and towers over me and looks me in the eyes

He wipes my tears away and pulls me up, and kisses me

"Don't cry, you're suppose to be happy"

"It's tears of joy"

He kisses me again and wipes my tears

I pull away and sniff a little

"Ok,come on you're gonna be late"

He grabs his bags and rolls them downstairs

"J t'aime"

"J t'aime mon Amour"

He kisses me one last time and with that he's out the door

Present Time

I get off the couch and head to the room to take an afternoon nap

2 hours later

My phone ringing wakes me up

I see that it's Kylian face timing me

"Amour?"

"Oui, what happened is everything fine"

"Yeah everything's fine, everything is great"

"Oh then what is it then"

"I have very big news"

"What is it"

"Wait are you ok you sound down"

"Yeah I'm fine I was just sleeping"

"Oh, sorry"

"It's fine, now tell me the big news"

" ok I didn't want you to hear it from Social Media, so I wanna tell you now"

"Ok?"

" so I just got out of a meeting with the coach and he said I'm gonna be the Captain of the Team"

"What?, are you joking?"

"No I'm being serious they're announcing it in a few hours"

"Babe I'm so happy for you and I'm proud of you as well"

"Merci, I miss you so much"

"I miss you too but we'll be together again, I promise"

"Yeah, I know"

"Kylian, come on bro we gotta go" I hear someone in the background say

"Ok babe I gotta go, but I love you and I'll see you soon, ok"

"Ok"

"Give the baby a kiss for me"

"Love you"

And he hangs up

I sigh again and go to the kitchen to go make food for myself

The rest of the day is spent watching movies and serial Killer documentaries

The next day Fayza comes and picks me up and we head to the airport

We're suprising Kylian at his match tomorrow

"So hows my gran baby" she ask when we're on the plane

"She's fine she's been kicking a lot recently"

"That means she's healthy"

"Have you been ok though, I know how all this can strain you, I don't want you to be stressed it's not good for you and the baby"

"Yeah I'm fine, I don't know honestly, I'm really scared though"

"Of what?"

"Being a mother, and Kylian is not going to be there most of the time he's going to be training and playing matches and I don't blame him, and I know he's gonna want to spend as much time with her but still, I don't want to be alone"

"You won't be alone, you'll have me and I'll be there for you every step of the way"

I look at her with tears my eyes and she pulls me into a hug

"Thank you Fay"

"No problem sweety"

After we arive we head to the hotel and I immediately want to sleep

"Get some rest I'll see you in the morning ok?:

"Ok, goodnight Fay"

"Night sweetheart"

I head to my room and fall asleep the minute my head touches the pillow

The next morning Fay and I are watching our favorite series because the game is only tonight so we'll only get ready a bit later

In the meantime Fay and I are having a girls day in the hotel

"Are you excited to see him playing"

"More than excited, I can't believe he got picked to be captain"

"Yeah me too"

Later in the day

"Are you ready to go"

"Yeah, let's go"

We had to car and and drive to the Stadium

When we get there we find them warming up and doing they're warm up routine

I take my seat next to Hugo

"Bonjour"

"Salut, Hugo, ça va"

"Tres bien et toi"

"Bien"

"Salut Fay" he greets Fay

"Bonsoir ,ça va"

"Bien"

We hug everyone else and we watch them carry on with their routine

"They were just here like 30 minutes ago, they came to say hi

"Oh it's fine we wanted to suprise Kylian anyway and we don't want him to see us yet"

"Aww how sweet of you"

"Yeah"

"He's lucky to have you in his life"

" so am I"

The match starts and we watch with our full attention nobody saying a word

But half time We're 2 point up and the Netherlands haven't scored

At the end of the match we won 0-4

To say I was proud of Kylian would be an understatement

His first debut as Captain of France and he's scored 2 out of 4 of the goals for France

I see him celebrating with his teammates

He faces Hugo and Raphaël and gives them a Wave

Until he spots me at first he looks like he can't believe it then reality sets in and he runs towards us and I run towards him to give him a hug

"DON'T RUN YOU'LL HURT YHE BABY" he says with a smile o his face

But I don't care u just run even faster into his arms

"You're here, you're here, you're here, how are you here"

"You didn't think I'd miss your first Match as Captain did you?"

"I thought you were at home"

"Nope I came to support my husband"

"I love you so much"

"I love you more"

"I really am lucky yo have you in my life y/n"

"And I'm happy I'm in it"

[catgirlbussy]

holy shit i just realised im autistic

i know this seems like a shitpost, and tbf i am laughing at myself pretty hard rn. it's dawning on me at 6 AM after being awake all night, but (if you care, and if you don't feel free to ignore too, have a nice day!) hear me out, cause this genuinely feels meaningful and insightful for me with how my life has gone so far. I spent an hour writing this post in hopes someone might find it helpful too :3c

If you don't wanna read my post pls enjoy this picture of our famous friend autism baby stackin those cans before you go~♪

(source: wikipedia)

l

like i already /knew/ I was before this moment, but i was thinkin about what i used to do as a kid and wow i am so autistic how the fuck did i not realise sooner. It straight up wasn't until I was already well into my 20's that I started to meet other autistic people online and learned about their experiences and difficulties from talking with them that I realised a lot of things they described matched for me too.

I live in assfuck nowhere so most of my life the only few times that I had met autistic people were like, folks who were nonverbal or whatever, just generally needing direct assistive care, and I never bothered to look things up on my own because I was already inundated with the pressures of growing up, school, mental health, etc. I remember one of the first times I had built up the courage to ask anyone about it, I was in the hospital because of mental health issues. This was in my second year uni, and when one of the doctors assessing me was asking me questions, I said I thought maybe I was autistic. He promptly and with a fair amount of snark told me that if I was autistic I wouldn't have gotten into university.

Thinking back, he was probably just an exhausted, fresh outta school resident with no special interest in psychiatric care (and also just seemed to suck in general), but it was enough that I shelved the idea for another 5 years.

Lo and behold, now I am lying here in bed, just absolutely gobsmacked by the VERY REAL idea that im autistic and like holy shit I feel so vindicated.

I've been on tumblr for just a bit, but I see a lot of folks talking in various neurodivergent circles about their experiences and that's been so wonderful for me. I also have a few good friend groups w/ a lot of neurodivergent folks, and that's been really exciting too.

Like, I'm still processing this cognitively as I'm writing, so please pardon this ill patterned post, but this feels like such a beneficial thing for me. Over time I've adapted a few strategies here and there to help myself accomplish various tasks, but now I feel so empowered to, like... actually figure stuff out.

Even after feeling confident I was autistic, it was this nebulous, floating concept in my head for so long of, "oh yeah im autistic or something idk," that I never really dedicated much effort to finding healthier ways to do things that didn't irk me or whatever. I don't feel like the label /itself/ is what is important to me here, but rather the awareness around why I do so many things in the ways that I do and that it's /okay/ that I do.

I don't want this post to go on too much longer, but I feel it's worth noting that I've fought for years with my family because they didn't understand why I was going about things the way I did. Again, remember, they all grew up in this cloistered hellhole too. But, surprise surprise, the times in my life that I have been doing better than any other are when I felt confident enough to ignore what everyone was trying to get me to go along with and instead just fashioned my own best methods (which also sometimes included informing said overbearing individual(s) to go fuck themselves cause I'm busy doing shit. It's hard for them to argue with me telling them as much when I would be completing X objective well, which is what they wanted in the first place).

I don't want to make this sound like I'm trying to be overconfident, but I mention as much instead as a sign of support for other neurodivergent folks to feel similarly empowered to drum to their own beat. Thinking back, I went from almost failing high school and ultimately retaking a grade to excelling in all my classes. Every single one. I know that's a relative assessment, you got variable difficulty levels, etc., and the grade score isn't important in and of itself, least of all because the school systems here (Canada) are a mess it seems, but just that alone as an idea, within the parameters of a particular system, I went from initial abject failure to thorough and lauded success.

Just think of what so many people could do if they weren't being pigeonholed into formats that absolutely aren't working for them.

I already have a boatload of (genuinely helpful by way of enabling access to proper education and treatment) diagnoses from my history of working with my (very wonderful and genuinely caring and helpful) psychiatrist that match with what I know about the neurodivergence term umbrella like ADHD, OCD, and bipolar, so it seems |autism| will feel quite at home in the group ^w^. I'll ask her about it at my next appointment to see if an official diagnosis has any value versus me just continuing to figure things out on my own.

Either way, I am thrilled right now thinking about the next time I get to shout

"FUCK YOU IM DOING AUTISTIC SHIT"

while an electric guitar squeals and lightning strikes all around me and I make cool stuff happen :3c.

[house-afire]

Scientific Reasoning (Frenchie/Izzy, post-S2)

Prompt: 100 words of unusual logic

No matter how often Izzy insisted his gut-wound had healed up soundly, Frenchie—irritating twat—only had to see him wince once, and he’d order Izzy off-duty.

The fucking crew didn’t even have the decency to object to this.

“You are looking kind of tired, Izzy,” Fang said.

“Plus you’re even more of a dick when you’re hurting,” Lucius added. “And you just threatened to drown me in a water barrel, so ….”

Everyone nodded at that.

“We’ll know you’re back to normal when you just stick to yelling about maiming,” Jim said.

Izzy glared at them all and stomped off.

“Feel better!” Oluwande called after him.

He was tempted to go back to his old room, but turning himself out of Frenchie’s bed felt too much like a childish sulk even to him. He wouldn’t seem beleaguered; he’d just look like a cunt. He headed to the captain’s quarters instead.

He hadn’t realized Frenchie was already there. Two months of this—whatever it was—and he still felt a catch in his chest when Frenchie gave him that easy smile.

Felt more than that when Frenchie kissed the scowl off him and untied his cravat, his fingers a hot brush against Izzy’s throat.

Izzy wanted to just sway into his hands—maybe get down on his knees and do the kind of job he would fucking hope Frenchie would still let him handle on his own—but he couldn’t keep on being coddled like this. He had to say so, so he did. So he said it against Frenchie’s neck and had his teeth scraping Frenchie’s jawline for half of it, fine, that didn’t mean it hadn’t been fucking said.

Besides, Frenchie understood him anyway. “If it makes you feel better,” he said, letting Izzy steer him over to the bed, “I thought about it, and this—” He grazed his hand over Izzy’s latest scar, like it wasn’t an ugly red mess, like it was a gorgeous knee-knocker of a thing just for being there, when it could have just been an open wound in a cold corpse. “This is the last serious hit you’re ever going to take. So once you’re all healed up—”

“I fucking am!”

“Once Roach says you’re all healed up,” Frenchie said, being too clearheaded for a man getting his trousers undone, “then the way I see it is, you’ll be more or less bulletproof, won’t you?”

Izzy boggled at him. “How the fuck do you figure that?”

“Glad you asked,” Frenchie said, lying back and putting his hands behind his head. “Since we met, you’ve been shot twice, yeah?”

“Nice of you to keep track.”

“Well, the first time, Ed made me the new first mate. And the second time, one thing leads to another, power vacuum, B&B openings, all that—I get elected captain. So I feel bad about it, but I think you only get shot so I can get promoted. And I’m at the top of the career ladder now, so you’re—”

“Bulletproof,” Izzy said.

“Just logic, really,” Frenchie said. “Scientific reasoning.”

It was fucking nonsense. And Frenchie looked so satisfied with it that there was no way he didn’t know it: Izzy knew the way he looked when he’d come up with a line of pure bullshit that’d outfoxed some deserving asshole of a mark, and it was this exact pose: all cheerful accomplishment and like butter wouldn’t melt in that pretty mouth of his. Only this time, Izzy supposed it was fate Frenchie was looking to outfox.

He was too old to believe that sort of thing was possible. But he was also old enough that his edges had started to fucking crumble, and he wasn’t hard and sharp enough anymore to see the worth in putting out the light in someone’s eyes. In making them admit that the world was harsh and unkind.

He wasn’t even that interested in making himself admit it, these days. When he was with Frenchie and the rest of them, he wasn’t even all that sure it was true.

Izzy couldn’t say any of that, though. It’d be a snake eating its own tail, and its tail would taste like fucking treacle besides.

Instead, he said, “I’ll be shit-out-of-luck if we ever get a fleet, then. Best keep a pistol loaded if you want to make admiral.”

Frenchie curled one hand over the back of Izzy’s neck and pulled him down.

“I’m good without it,” he said. “Who needs a fleet, when you come down to it? I don’t want a number two ship. Just a number one Iz.”

Izzy closed his eyes, something inside him stuttering and stilling.

“Then we’ll both do fine,” he said. “‘Captain’ sounds better than ‘Admiral’ anyway.”

“It’s just got more verve to it,” Frenchie agreed. He traced Izzy’s scar again, that same achingly stunned look on his face. “Don’t think I could ever go for anything else.”

[shares-a-vest]

🌼💜WIP Weekend 💜🌼

Over the past two weeks, I have been tagged by @momotonescreaming and @hbyrde36 (x2 hehe). Thank you for the tags.

I have a bunch of free time this weekend so I plan to work on a few things and catch up on a tonne of reading! Yay!!!

The Rules

In a reblog (or a new post w/ rules attached) post up to five (5) file names of your wips. Not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

The WIPS

July Writing (most of it is stuff from May and June I never finished lmao)

Ren Faire (extension of this ficlet I've been meaning to finish for two months)

Clarkson Mixtape (formally-abandoned wip I am rewriting)

The One Where Steve Rescues a Litter of Kittens (old wip I have returned to)

I also have 'Would be Mayor Harrington' buuuut it doesn't need any more work, but I'm gonna seek out someone to give it a read-through for a bit of an edit and vibe-check.

The Snippet

From 'July Writing' (just a silly thing inspired by those weird zippers in the GQ shoot of Joseph Quinn)

“They look ridiculous,” Steve chuckles, settling back down. “But look,” Eddie spins to reveal another zipper running straight up the back of his pants. He grabs at his own ass before he turns back around, eyes gleeful and dimples looking positively devilish. “Again, ridiculous,” Steve argues without much heat behind his words, instead distracted by the small sliver of skin peaking out from the cropped jacket. None of it is Eddie’s style. And god knows what Chrissy has the band wearing for whatever this shoot is - but Eddie still looks good. “Easy access, babydoll,” Eddie winks before settling down and crossing his arms on whatever surface he is leaning against. Steve cocks his chin, “Don’t get too excited. I’d think that front zipper would saw your balls off if you got too eager.” Eddie throws his head back and whines to the heavens. “Stevie,” he begs, “Don’t talk about my balls. I miss you too much.” “Yeah?” “Yeah…” Eddie coos, a mischievous smile creeping across his face. They simply look at each other for a few moments in silence, all blinking, lip-biting and small little smirks before Steve reaches to adjust his pillow. “Are you sleeping in the middle of the bed?” Eddie frowns.

No Pressure Tags: @penny00dreadful @devondespresso @livwritesstuff @sidekick-hero @missberrycake

@blubblesandink @marvel-ous-m @kikidoesfanfic @eyesofshinigami + anyone who has some wips to work on this weekend!