#and go make myself an early dinner and then back to drawing........

[mpileons]

behind the goal posts | alexia putellas x reader

chapter 1 <

Summary: Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Star football player and the face of Barcelona. However, what they don’t know is that she is been in a secret relationship for years, and that relationship is slowly slipping out of her hands.

Word Count: 2.8K

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A/N: i got a bit too carried w/ the angst.. oops. and i didnt proof read this so i apologize for any inevitable mistakes :)

Chapter Two …

Present Day – 

As 12AM hits, I find myself still waiting for Ale to come home from training. I decide to call my bestfriend to prevent my thoughts from further spiralling. “Hey chica, wait what's up?” my best friend's voice blares through my headphones as a frown etches onto her face, sensing that something is off with me. “Did she do something?” I start to shake my head because I know if I speak my voice will betray me and all my anxieties will be laid bare for her to see. It’s not that I don't want her to see, more that I don't want to acknowledge any of this. I’d like to believe that Alexia and I are still in that honeymoon, that she’ll come home early and shower me with kisses while we make dinner,that we will go back to watching films while our limbs intertwined till we didn't know whose body is whose. I know deep down that we have derailed so far away, we are slowly plummeting into an abyss of resentment and I don't know how to save us. “Y/N please talk to me” Kira’s voice brings me back to earth, I see the anxiety increasing tenfold on her face as she watches me intently. “I don't know," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper as I fiddle with the strings of my hoodie. 

"It's just... Ale was out late last night, and she's still not home. And she's been so distant lately. It’s like I am living with a ghost,  I can't shake this feeling that something's wrong." I rush out as quickly as humanly possible, as if I say it fast enough my brain won’t think about it and therefore it won’t become real.

“That’s strange, have you brought it up with her?” Kira's voice held a gentle probing, her concern evident. But then again, I couldn't fault her for that. Our nightly chats had become a lifeline, teetering on the edge of panic. It's strange, really. Ale used to be the one to ease these moments, but now, it's her actions that stir them up.

Present Day | Alexia’s Point of View —

As I step into the dimly lit apartment, the sharp remnants of the night at the club are still echoing in my mind. However, the laughter and camaraderie of my teammates felt distant now, replaced by a hollow emptiness.

I moved through our shared apartment with a sense of detachment, a space that was once so familiar now feels like a ghost town. The weight of exhaustion drags at my limbs as I head towards our room. But as I pass by the closed door, I can hear a snippet of a conversation that catches my attention, drawing me to a sudden halt.

"... it's strange how Ale used to calm me down from these attacks and now it is her that is causing them," Y/N's voice, tinged with worry and frustration, drifted through the door, sending a pang of unexpected guilt coursing through my chest.

For a moment, I stood rooted to the spot, Y/N’s words hanging heavy in the air like an accusation. The weight of her evident disappointment bores down on me like a crushing weight, quickly suffocating and stealing every word out of my mouth. How had I become the source of Y/N's pain, when did this happen?

Without another word, I retreated to the living room where the walls feel like they are closing in around me as the echoes of Y/N's words reverberated in my mind.  Hours passed in agonising silence, the tension in the apartment thickening with each passing moment. And then, as if on cue, the dam burst.

Present Day | Y/N’s Point of View —

I took tentative steps to the living room to check if Ale had come home, the faint scent of alcohol hanging in the air further proving that she’s back.  

As I rounded the corner, my gaze fell upon Alexia slumped on the couch with her head bowed and a half-empty bottle of whiskey clenched tightly in her hand. Her usually vibrant eyes were now dull and unfocused, the lines of exhaustion etched into her features.

A sudden surge of anger and frustration takes over my body. I naively thought that maybe today would be different, that today Ale would come to me instead of seeking comfort from a bottle.

But as I stood in front of Ale and truly take in the sight in front of me, a different surge of emotions come. I am quickly overwhelmed with a wave of guilt as I watch the woman I love more than anything crumble beneath the weight of her own self-destructive tendencies. No matter what I try to do or say, nothing can seem to get through the indestructible walls she had built around herself, the walls she once used to let down around me. 

All of a sudden, I couldn't muster up any anger towards the woman who firmly held my heart in her grasp. I could shove aside my own emotions, even if it meant indulging in self-destructive tendencies, just to care for her. 

"Ale," My voice was soft, barely more than a whisper as if my words would fracture her even further. I slowly approached the couch, my heart aching with a pain I couldn't name. "What happened tonight?" I asked while tentatively taking the bottle out of her grasp.

Alexia's head snapped up at the sound of my voice, her eyes glazed and distant as she struggled to focus on me, an effect from her excessive drinking that has become more familiar to me than I’d like. "Nothing," she muttered, her voice slurred with the aftereffects of alcohol. "Just... just another night out with the girls."

My eyes furrow with concern, I try to find any piece of the woman I loved, the woman who would buy me new flowers immediately after the previous flowers died, the woman who would wake up earlier before practice just to spend time with me, the woman who would bring me food to the library while I was drowning in assignments. But all I could see was the shell of that woman. All I could was emptiness and it was killing me. She was killing herself while clutching my heart within her hands, bringing me down with her. 

My voice trembled with disappointment as I settled beside Alexia on the couch, the tension between us crackling like electricity. The atmosphere in the room felt heavy, suffused with the weight of unspoken grievances and broken promises. "You promised, Ale," I began, my tone beginning to edge with unbearable frustration as I decide to confront her broken vows. "You swore you'd try to get better, that you wouldn't let this control you anymore. That you would try for me, for us."

Alexia's eyes flashed with a mix of shame and defiance, her fingers stealing the bottle from my hands and tightening around the bottle in her hand as she clearly tried to brace herself for the impending conflict. The lines etched on her face increased tenfold. "I know," she admitted, her voice strained with the evident weight of her own struggles. "But it's not as simple as just trying, Y/N. You don't understand how hard it is. You just don’t."

My patience waned quickly as I met Alexia's gaze, my own resolve beginning to falter under the weight of our unresolved issues. "I'm trying to understand, Alexia," I defiantly retorted, my voice rising slightly with frustration. "But how can I when you won't let me in? You keep shutting me out, pushing me away every time I try to help."

A spark of anger ignited within Alexia's eyes as she rose to meet my challenge, her own frustrations bubbling to the surface. "Maybe if you actually understood what I'm going through, you'd realise that I'm not doing this to hurt you," she shot back, her voice tinged with bitterness. "I'm doing this because I can't bear to see you disappointed in me again."

The raw emotion in Alexia's words further broke my heart, the sting of guilt mixing with her own simmering anger. "I know, but you promised, Alexia," I murmured, my tone quiet  but sharp with anger, "It just seems like you don't care about keeping your word anymore. You're drowning yourself in alcohol, and you're dragging us down with you."

I can see Alexia's gaze harden, her own frustration boiling over as she shot back once again, Never one to back down. “Don't act like you're perfect, Y/N. You're always on my case, like you have it all figured out. But guess what? You don't. You never have."

I clench my jaw as I fight to keep my temper in check, I know that Alexia isnt in the right state for this discussion, but her words hold some flicker of truth which is why the words spill out despite my best efforts. "I may not understand everything you're going through, but at least I'm trying. What about you, Ale? Are you even trying anymore, or have you just given up once again?"

The accusation struck a nerve, and Alexia's temper flared, her voice rising to match my intensity. "Of course, I'm trying!" she exclaimed, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "But it's not enough for you, is it? Nothing I do is ever enough!"

My eyes flash with hurt and indignation while my voice trembles with emotion. "That's not true, Ale," I protest, my heart aching at the sight of the woman I adore unravelling right before my eyes. "I just want you to be happy, but I can't stand by and watch you destroy yourself. I can't do it anymore when it is destroying me further knowing I can’t help you despite my best attempts to."

Tears welled in Alexia's eyes as she struggled to contain her rising emotions, the weight of their argument bearing down on her like a crushing weight. "I don't know how to be happy anymore, Y/N," she admitted, her voice breaking with despair. "I feel like I'm drowning, and I can't find a way out."

The distance between us grew with each passing minute, each second driving a deeper wedge between our fractured hearts. And during the chaos of our bitter exchange, I just had a sinking feeling that my love might not be enough to save us from the impending darkness that I know will consume us completely, sooner or later.

Exhausted and emotionally drained, my voice immediately softened, a tremor of uncertainty lacing my words as I try to grind the words I thought I’d never say out loud, not to Alexia, not even in a million years or in a hundred different universes did I think I’d say this to her.. "Maybe... maybe we need some time apart," I suggest, the weight of the admission heavy on my tongue.

Alexia's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in disbelief at the suggestion. "A break?" she echoed, the word heavy with resignation and a hint of desperation.

I nod, my own heart aching at the realisation that our relationship might be hanging by a thread. "Just... for a little while," I murmur, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "To figure things out."

6 Months Ago | Alexia’s Point of View —

As the sun set over the horizon, casting hues of pink and gold across the sky, I led Y/N to a secluded spot in the park since I decided to surprise her with a special outing to a drive-in cinema. I see her eyes widen in surprise at the sight of twinkling fairy lights strung between the trees and a soft glow emanating from a cluster of candles.

With a nervous but determined smile, I take Y/N's hand and lead her to a cozy spot in front of the car. We start to settle onto a blanket spread out in the back of the car, the air filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the distant sound of birds chirping.

As we cuddle together under the starlit sky, the screen flickers to life with the opening scenes of "La La Land," Y/N's favorite film, I had put that somewhere in the depths of my mind when she told me, knowing it will somehow be important later on.

During an especially poignant moment in the film, I reach into a nearby picnic basket and pull out a carefully crafted scrapbook that took me longer than I’d like to admit. After all I am athlete not an artsy person. But for her, it’s all worth it.

I watch as she curiously flips through the pages, her eyes widening in surprise and delight as she sees photos of our many movie nights together, interspersed with handwritten notes and film strips capturing precious moments we’ve shared over the last few months.

My hands start to lightly tremble while I intertwine Y/N's hand with mine, as I feel her hand fitting perfectly into mine, a warmth spreads through me, comforting the trembles that threaten to give away my nerves. "Y/N," I start, my voice barely above a whisper but laced with the depth of my feelings, "I never imagined that one person could fuel my heart with such love and devotion, I can’t even imagine my life without by my side and I ..."

Y/N's eyes meet mine, shimmering with unshed tears of happiness. Without a word, her gentle nod speaks volumes, affirming the depth of her love and commitment. "Yes, Ale," she murmurs, her voice a soft caress against the night air, "I choose you, now and forever."

Present day | Y/N’s Point of View —

Before I can even take a step forward, a familiar blonde head of hair envelops me, momentarily throwing off my balance. "Geez, Leah, trying to knock me over?" I chuckle, returning the embrace of my lifelong friend. Football was never my thing before Ale, but Leah and I go way back to our days in the primary school astronomy club, and our bond has only grown stronger since then. Proving our friendship to be stronger than any time zone or country.

"How do you manage to shrink every time I see you? Is there something in the water in Barca?" Leah teases as she takes my luggage from my grasp and leads the way to her car. I just shake my head at her usual antics, gazing out at the Heathrow Airport parking lot. London. I haven’t been back home in years, never felt the need to with Ale around, but now that I've lost her, it feels like I've lost my home along the way as well. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut, leaving me feeling nauseous. In just a few days, I've lost everything that mattered.

Hours later, after battling the infamous London traffic, we finally arrive at my flat. It's a sad time capsule of my past life. Remnants of old friendships and memories linger in every corner, a stark reminder that while I've changed, the world around me has kept on spinning. That time waits for no one, and as I sink deeper into my thoughts, Leah's concerned voice breaks through the silence. "Are we going to talk about it, or are we gonna keep pretending like nothing's happened?" she asks, her honesty cutting through the tension. I join her on the couch, resting my head on her shoulder with a heavy sigh. "I don’t know," I admit, uncertainty weighing heavily on my mind.

“Cmon, as your favourite bestfriend I think i deserve more honesty than that.” She tries to lightly joke, but I know her words hold some level of honestly. And the words hit me harder than I expected, and for a moment, I find myself at a loss for words. She's always been there for me, through the good times and the bad, but this... this feels different. It's not just a bump in the road; it's a complete upheaval of everything I thought I knew. I know nothing anymore.

"I know," I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's just... it's all so overwhelming, you know? I thought I had everything figured out, but now... now I don't know what to do."

Leah quickly wraps an arm around me, pulling me closer in a comforting embrace. "It's okay not to have all the answers," she reassures me, her voice soft but firm. "Just take it one step at a time. We'll figure it out together. You still have me no matter what. You know that.”

I nod, grateful for her words of wisdom. But even as I try to take comfort in her presence, a nagging feeling of unease lingers at the back of my mind. How do you move forward when everything you once knew has been shattered right in front of you? Where do you even begin?

[samkerrworshipper]

found family | arsenal women x reader

no warnings just sickness, comfort and a little bit of angst

blurb: when r decides it’s a good idea to go out in the snow for the first time after training they suffer the consequences, and then suffer the consequences of trying to conceal their sickness

sorry if this draws on, wanted to give y’all something so this is from the drafts lol and idk how i feel about it

Doing snow angels after training in nothing more than shirts and shorts was never going to be a good idea, but I’d done it anyway. Me, Katie, Caitlin, Alessia and Beth having snuck out without telling any of our other teammates to have a moment in the snow. It was some harmless fun that we were sure our coaches and captains wouldn’t approve of, so we’d snuck out of the recovery room without anybody taking notice and had some fun in the snow. We hadn’t been out in it for much longer than 20 minutes, just long enough to slip out and in. It was rare for there to be so much snow so early in the year, I had hardly been expecting it and it wasn’t the normal sludge that North London was renowned for, it was proper fluffy white snow, the stuff you see in hallmark movies. I was the only player on the team who had never seen real snow before, so when I’d pleaded with Katie to take me out in it, she could hardly say no to me.

Beth, Caitlin and Alessia had just been casualties. Katie had taken Lessi under her wing since her start at Arsenal, the two had very quickly become bonded and there wasn’t much you could do with Katie anymore without Alessia and Caitlin being her companions.

Beth and Viv had happened to overhear our conversation in recovery and Beth had pleaded with us to let her come, Viv just shook her head at us, clearly in disapproval of our decisions but also not bothering herself with trying to stop us, there wasn’t any point, she wouldn’t win.

So we’d somehow managed to sneak out of the recovery rooms and out onto the spare field, which was covered in a blanket of white snow. Almost immediately I’d thrown myself down into the powder, shivering slightly at the coldness but not really caring, it was an experience that felt so incredibly surreal that I was in complete ignorance over my senses.

The four other women just sat and watched as I rolled around in the snow, Katie and Beth shaking their heads at my antics. Alessia busied herself with getting in a snowball fight with Caitlin. It had stayed fairly tame until I’d thrown one at Katie’s head and then it had turned into a full on war, ending with Katie and I wrestling in the snow.

Our snow escapades had ended with Beth forcing me out of the snow and into a jacket, I was shivering all ready but I didn’t care, my heart felt mended in a way that was inexplicably perfect.

I’d been forced into a hot shower by Katie, her overbearing motherly tendencies also making Alessia and Caitlin join me. Beth had been the only one to not enter the snow so she’d slipped her way into the dinner room whilst us other girls had been busy warming our bodies back up. Caitlin and Alessia were fairly quick, but I took a little bit longer, my body still shivering even as I exited the shower to throw on some sweats.

Katie’s furrowed brow was enough to tell me that she was a little worried about the fact that I was still shivering and cold, but she didn’t vocalise her worries, instead opting to rush me and the other girls into the dinner room. Somehow our absence had gone unnoticed, something that I was shocked by because we were hardly the quiet crew of the group.

I’d slid into a seat across from Viv and beside Steph, my body still a quivering mess. Viv’s eyeroll was enough of an ‘I told you so’, the older dutch woman clearly disapproving of our decisions. I tucked into my dinner, pesto pasta with chicken and garlic bread. It didn’t take long for Steph, my fellow Matilda to notice my shivering body. My fingers struggling every once in a while to hold my fork still.

“Little bit cold, y/n/n?”

I smirked and chuckled at the light implication from Steph, trying my very hardest to not give away the intense chills that were wracking my body, I was sure they would fade eventually.

“Just not fully used to this London weather I suppose, had someone warned me it was going to be so cold I think I would have stayed in Perth.”

Steph nodded at me knowingly, before returning to her conversation she’d been having with Beth, leaving me face to face with Viv, who had worry weaved between her brows as she studied me. Beth and Viv had just been two of the people who had taken me under their wing since my arrival at the Arsenal. Viv especially, although she’d never admit it, had particularly gone out of her way to look after me. On top of the two captains, Leah and Kim who had practically adopted me as soon as I’d walked through the doors. Leah was harder on me then anyone else, considering she was also a mentor to me on the defensive side of the pitch, so when she’d taken me under her wing I’d been a little bit terrified. She was always on my ass, I was always the first person in trouble with her and the first person to be blamed for anything. I was also the youngest on the team, and my personality was loud and bubbly, something that didn’t assist in helping me keep my head down around the team.

It was one of the reasons Beth and I got on famously, the both of us always looking to cause a little bit of mayhem but most of all have fun, Katie normally getting caught up in our antics considering she was the team's designated prankster.

Right now though, I felt anything but bubbly, my head beginning to pound against my trembling form as I pushed the pasta around my bowl, no longer feeling the overwhelming hunger I’d left a few minutes ago.

It was the clambering of a teammate sitting down beside me that pulled me from my daze, dropping my fork on the bowl as I turned to see who was sitting next to me.

“Hey lover girl.”

Kyra’s hand found it’s way to my head, ruffling my hair, her hand retracting back quickly though as soon as she made contact with my scalp, her eyebrows furrowing into a similar expression to what Viv had given me a few minutes ago when I’d been caught out by her.

“Why’s your head so cold? Feels like you’ve just come out of the ice baths.”

Kyra’s voice was nothing but friendly, but with the mixture of my sudden headache and my annoyance over people telling me that I was cold I couldn’t help but give her a bitten back response.

“I’m fine, just leave me the fuck alone.”

Kyra visibly flinched back at my words and everyone around us went quiet fairly quickly, everyone sensing the sudden tension and confrontation occurring between me and my teammate. Kyra slid into the seat beside me, one of her hands falling to my thigh which I immediately flinched away from.

“Everything okay, sweetie?”

I moved myself away from Kyra, inching myself further towards Steph, my other national teammate who seemed as equally confused by my behaviour as Kyra was.

“Y/n, a word?”

It was the voice from the other end of the table that captured my attention, Leah standing from the table already, clearly having detected the awkwardness between Kyra and I.

I clambered my way from my seat, scuffing my feet against the carpeted floor of the dining room as I tagged along behind Leah, following her out of the room and out into the corridor. I flicked the hood of my jumper over my head, toying with the drawstring as Leah turned to face me as soon as we were out of earshot from the group.

“What was that about?”

Her facial expression was as stern as ever as she looked at me, I kept my eyes on my feet, my head fucking hurt and I was still shivering, it was less noticeable though as I stood, I kept my hands out of sight and tried my very hardest to keep my body still.

“She was pissing me off.”

I could hear Leah frowning from in front of me, I didn’t need to look at her face to sense it.

“Does her pissing you off make it okay to tell her to fuck off, because I would hardly say that she deserved that, what’s up? This whole attitude is hardly normal for you.”

I kept my eyes focused on my shoes, toying with a bit of fluff that was stuck on the carpet, edging it slowly across the material with my shoed foot.

“Nothing’s up, I’m fine.”

Leah’s arm grabbing for my sleeve covered hand hadn’t been what I was accepting, the action drawing my eyes up to meet her own.

“I won’t have this piss poor attitude, go home, get some sleep and be here with a fresh mind tomorrow morning, understood?”

I pulled my hand from Leah’s, not letting her hold on to mine long enough to feel the tremors coursing across my skin.

“Aye, Aye, captain.”

I rolled my eyes at Leah, fake saluting her as I walked back into the dining room, picking my keys and phone up from the table quickly before exiting the building, not leaving any room to ask any questions as I stormed out of the room.

I somehow made it back to my apartment without passing out at the wheel, a miracle if you asked me. I didn’t have the will to do anything besides fall straight into my bed, very quickly changing into a pair of flannel pyjamas and stacking a pile of blankets on top of my sheets before climbing into the bed and relaxing into the mix of blankets, the mixture of heat and darkness calming my symptoms just enough to lull me into a fever induced sleep.

I woke up multiple times during the night, vomiting, coughing, sweats, chills, it all. My sleep was restless and by the time my alarms were going off I felt worse than ever. I was supposed to be at training by 9, but I could hardly manage to get out of bed to get to the toilet, let alone even attempt to try and put my training gear on and run around on a football pitch for three hours. I let my phone snooze one last time before flicking a text to Jonas, telling him that I was feeling a little bit under the weather and was just going to take the day to recuperate, all though something in my gut told me that one day wouldn’t be enough, not with the croaky cough that was wracking my whole body and the fever that I knew I was running. It was winter in London, I’d probably just picked up a 48 hour bug.

Jonas replied fairly quickly, telling me that he hoped I felt better and that it was a good idea to take a rest day.

With that text I turned off all of my alarms and burrowed back into my blanket fort, the effort of even having to look at my phone and piece together a text being too much for my head. My whole body hurt, my chest and ribs hurting every single time I took a breath, let alone coughed. The chills from yesterday were yet to pass, my whole body feeling like I was still out lying in the snow, even though I knew in reality my whole body was overheating. That thought still didn’t stop me from piling more blankets on top of my body, settling back into my bed with a groan as a wave of nausea and pain washed over me.

I faded in and out of the day, similarly to as I had done at night, my fever induced state making even my conscious moments feel like a dream. I ignored the incessant sound of my phone buzzing on my bedside table, opting to ignore anybody or anything that was popping up on it, I had one job in North London, play football, and I’d alerted my coach so that was as far as my social correspondence needed to go, any teammates or friends who decided my life was their business didn’t matter to me right now, my body hurt to much to care.

Somewhere around 5 or 6 the incessant coughing came to be too much for my body and I found my body keeled over the toilet bowl, dry heaving as I coughed up the mucus and phlegm that was caught up in my lungs. It was a painful experience, my lungs burning with every single breath that left my body, the oxygen burning on its way in.

I dragged myself back to my bed once I was done, the sun just beginning to set and my body having the capacity to do nothing more than lie down in my bed and wait for darkness to come so I could go back to sleep, tomorrow was our day off, so at least I didn’t have to worry about explaining another absence to Jonas.

My sleep through the night was even worse than the previous day, probably credited to the lack of energy I had in my body. The pain in my chest worsening drastically and in the wee hours of the morning I dragged a blanket and pillow into my ensuite, coming to the realisation that I didn’t have the energy to walk back and forth from the bathroom every time I had to go to the bathroom, which was fairly frequent with the amount of shit I was coughing up. I contemplated calling a teammate or Sam, whose apartment was fairly close to mine and I trusted her enough to ask her to come over. I didn’t though, opting to fall asleep on my toilet seat instead of getting up to go fetch my phone.

I stayed like that for most of the night, I think, honestly somewhere along in the night it all blurred into one. Until I was awoken brutally at 8am by the sound of pounding on my apartment door. I ignored it, half not believing that the sound was real and that it was just the sound of my fucking skull pounding against my brain in my head, a reflection of how my head had felt for the past 24 hours.

The knocking only grew louder and more persistent though, until it finally ceased and not much longer than 30 seconds later I was face to face with my two arsenal captains, both of their faces pink and rosy from the London cold and slightly exasperated.

“Hey skippers.”

My voice was laced with delirium, the only thing keeping me conscious at that point.

“Hey Joey, how you feeling?”

Leah walked cautiously towards me, letting Kim do the talking whilst she approached me and pressed the back of her palm to my forehead, grimacing almost immediately as her hand made contact with my own skin. I leant into the contact, her hand a relief from the fluctuating temperature my body had been upholding.

“Fuck, she’s burning up.”

Leah’s accent was thicker than normal, her voice covered in a blanket of concern that I’d never heard before.

“I’ll get Katie and Viv to come up, they can help get her into the car, we’ll have to take her to A&E, it’s bloody impossible to get an appointment with a doctor at this time of year.”

I shook my head at Kim almost immediately, or shook it as much as I could with the headache I had.

“M’ fine, just a 48 hour bug.”

My voice made me sound so much smaller, like I was a six year old and it was doing absolutely nothing to get my point across, in contradiction probably making my argument far weaker.

“Viv told us about you playing in the snow. What were you thinking? Playing in the snow with no clothes on after training, different breed you aussies.”

Kim mused at me, smiling a little bit as she watched Leah hurry around my bathroom, searching around. I frowned guiltily, knowing that once I felt better, once this was all over I’d be on the receiving end of a rather lengthy lecture about not endangering myself, a lecture I was sure Beth and Katie would have already received, considering Viv had snitched on us.

“I’m fine, I feel fine.”

My words were followed up by a fit of coughs that had me leaning back over the bowl of the toilet coughing up more phlegm, hardly a convincing point. My cough was dry, from the lack of fluids I’d consumed and the lack of liquids that were left in my body from the vomiting. My throat completely raw from the continuous retching.

“Don’t sound fine, sweetheart.”

Kim’s words were paused by Leah exclaiming as she located my first aid kit, that the two of them had put in my apartment when I’d moved in, claiming I was far too clumsy to not have one. She pulled out a thermometer almost immediately.

“I’ll make you a deal sweetheart, if you are below 38 then we’ll stay here. Me and Leah will look after you, like we could have yesterday if you had called us, or anyone. If you are above 38 though then we have to go to the hospital, because we don’t want you getting seriously sick, I know it sucks but we have to keep you safe sweetie. Kerr would have my neck if I didn’t return her best defender back in perfect condition when the international break rolls around, understood?”

I frowned at Kim, her stern scottish accent leaving no room for argument. I opened my mouth up to Leah, letting her slip the piece of metal into my dry and inflamed mouth. Waiting patiently until it beeped and frowning almost as soon as she saw it.

“41.”

Fuck. That number even made me frown a little bit, because that was unsafely high and all of us knew it. It explained all of my symptoms, and the cloud that I’d been floating on for the last day, a fever induced high that was the cause of my incessant sweating and shakes.

Kim frowned down at me, I shrugged at her in defeat, both of us knowing what it meant.

“C’mon sweet, let's get you changed and in the car.”

I looked up at Leah, my body folding in defeat as she bent down to lift me from the floor. I immediately wrapped my arms around her, letting her carry me back into my bedroom. She made quick work of changing me out of my pyjamas into a plain grey pair of sweatpants and an arsenal hoodie, giving me a peck to the forehead once she was done getting me changed. Her lips, cold from the London air felt so good on my burning skin, relaxing the itching and searing sensation that had covered every surface of my skin.

“Kim?”

Kim had busied herself with collecting a bag of my belongings, chargers, electronics, a change of clothes, and my toiletries. I had pretty much gone limp in Leah’s arms, letting her brush through my hair and comb it into a plait at the back of my head. The vice captain whispering sweet nothings in my ear as I groaned and coughed, my body tired from the constant pain.

“Yes, Joey?”

She took a pause in her hunt for my things, turning to face me, one of her eyebrows quirked at me in questioning. .

“Do you think you could text Sammy for me, please, and maybe Macca, I don’t want them to worry about me.”

My voice was so quiet I wasn’t even sure she’d heard it. The worry was growing on me though, the realisation that I really wasn’t as well as I’d been telling myself and Sam would want to be the first person called. Kim gave me a little smile before nodding and getting back to her job, collecting the last of my things just as I heard my front door open again.

“Of course I can sweet, let’s just get you in the car and then we can text whoever you need, alright?”

I heard Katie and Viv making their way through my flat, eventually making it to the doorway of my room, poking their heads around the side of my bedroom door.

As soon as I caught sight of Viv I bursted into tears, no longer being able to hold in the emotions that I’d holed up for the better part of the past 24 hours.

She was quick to be at my side, not protesting whatsoever as I threw myself into her arms, soaking the shoulder of her jumper with my tears and snot immediately. I was a blubbering mess, murmuring a flurry of apologies and admissions into Viv’s collarbone, the guilt of my actions settling into my gut.

“Hey, liefje, it’s okay, take some deep breaths for us.”

I burrowed my head into Viv, the feeling of sickness washing back over my body and making me feel worse.

“We’ve got you kiddo, I know you feel icky, but we need to get you to the hospital, to get you some help, so you can feel a bit better.”

I groaned into Viv’s body, rolling my eyes as she snickered a little bit at my reaction.

“I know you don’t want to, but we’re all really worried about you and you need some help, you're burning up like crazy, so let us take you, please?”

Leah’s palms were rubbing circles into my back, relaxing the muscles that were so tense. Viv’s arm was wrapped tightly around my shoulder, like she was protecting me from the world.

“C’mon kid, Katie and I have the car downstairs, all warm for you.”

Viv’s offer was enough to have me sighing in defeat and pursing my lips. I nodded half heartedly, letting Leah pull me from Viv’s arms so she could stand up. Leah helped me to pull my ugg boots over my feet whilst Kim and Katie finished collecting my things. I tried valiantly to walk by myself, but only made it to my doorway before my legs were weakening below me and Leah had to catch me. She carried me bridal style to the car, squishing me into the backseat between her and Kim.

My head found its way into the nook of Kim’s neck, silent tears and snot making its way down my face as we drove slowly towards the hospital. Leah, with a tissue at hand, very discreetly wiped at my face when I needed it and kneaded my arm muscles with her hands, helping my trembling hands to relax just a little bit. Slowly as we continued to drive any energy that I had previously possessed started to fade.

Kim called Sam, at my insistence, Sam was worried as soon as she heard Kim’s voice and after the explanation practically begged Kim to let her speak to me, so I was put on the phone with Sam, even at my reluctance.

“Joey?”

“Yup.”

“Hey sweet, how you feeling?”

I gulped slightly, not wanting to make Sam worry but also not wanting to lie to my skipper.

“Shit, I’m fine though.”

I could hear Sam’s eye roll from the otherside of the phone.

“41 degree temperature doesn’t sound too fine to me, what were you thinking?”

“Just wanted to have some fun.”

Sam’s scoff from the other side of the phone was enough to tell me she was more than displeased with my actions, something that most of the people in the car seemed to share.

“Next time you want to have fun, can you do it with someone other than McCabe, I hardly think she’s a role model for you, considering both of your reckless personas.”

Somehow Katie managed to overhear Sam’s words, a look of complete offence washing over her face.

“I’ll have you know Kerr that she practically begged me.”

Leah shushed Katie with a glare, the guilty look on Katie’s face told me she’d already had to hear a mouthful from our captains, and she would be on the receiving end of another one if she didn’t shut her mouth.

“Mm, sounds like our girl, well I’m going to go collect Alanna, Macca and Caitie, who are all very concerned about your wellbeing and we’ll see you at the hospital, okay?”

“Mm kay, thank you Sammy.”

As soon as the phone call ended I passed my phone back to Kim, relaxing my body back against hers, the actions of the day taking a toll on my body and resulting in a dramatic drop in my energy levels.

When we did arrive at the hospital I was hardly coherent, back on a fever induced cloud that made me hardly conscious. Katie was tasked with carrying me into the ER, Leah not being able to carry me much further than a few feet with her recovering knee injury. When we made it into the ER I was immediately tended to and sent straight into a room. My body was immediately connected to a series of machines and wires.

I fought against the nurses, to the point where Leah had to actually climb into the bed with me to keep me calm, my delusional body unhappy with the cold hands and cords connecting with my body. The contact with Leah though had seemed to calm me enough though for the doctors to be able to do their jobs and connect me up to monitors and IV fluids that my body was in desperate need of. There was a lot of bustling happening around me, but I kept my eyes closed, feeling instantly better when some pain relief and medicine was administered to my body, making me sleepy enough to fade into a deep sleep.

When I woke up I was hit with a reminder of my throbbing headache, my whole body hurt. Chest, ribs, head, it all hurt. I struggled to open my eyes and when I did my headache was only worsened by the light flooding into my room through the gaps in my blinds. I was shocked by the sheer amount of people crowded in my room, a different room to the one I’d fallen asleep in. My eyes flashed across my body, taking in all of the wires that my body was connected to, wires, leads, IV cords, my body was covered in more wires than it was skin. I panicked almost immediately, reaching to pull at the cords but my hands were stopped almost immediately.

“Hey Joey.”

It was Kim’s eyes that caught my own, her deep Scottish accent getting my attention and taking it away from the crawling feeling across my skin that all of the wires were causing.

“W-What happened?”

My eyes were darting across the room, my brain trying to remember what course of events had lead to me being in this position. My eyes caught onto my teammates, who were piled on sofas and chairs in the room.

“You went out in the snow, do you remember that? Katie took you out and you got a chill from it, because your body was vulnerable with the cold you developed pneumonia, pretty serious, you had us all worried for a little bit. Leah and I came to your apartment, because you hadn’t shown up to training and we were all worried about you, and we found you and took you here.”

It was a lot of information to take in, I couldn’t do much more than nod my head at Kim, like a goldfish.

“M’ sorry for worrying you.”

Kim smiled at me, shaking her head.

“It’s okay Joey, all forgiven, we’ll talk about it another day, right now you need to focus on getting yourself better.”

I pursed my lips, eyeing Sam who was sitting at my bedside, looking me up and down. There was a lot of emotions on her face, her jaw was locked and I could see some disappointment and concern in her eyes, amongst other things.

“Sam-.”

“We’ll talk about it another day Joey, I’ve already laid into McCabe about not giving into you, I don’t think Williamson is going to be letting you out of her sight anytime soon. I just want to know why you didn’t call me, or anyone. Sweet, there are so many people around who care about you and you worried us all, had you called anyone when your symptoms had started to show, or even the previous morning this all could have been avoided.”

Sam’s voice was stern, the voice she used when she mad at one of her girls for getting in unnecessary trouble.

“Didn’t want to bother anybody.”

Sam stood up at my reply, taking two short steps to my bedside and looking at Kim.

“Nobody in this room would have felt bothered, you were sick y/n, seriously sick and had Kim or Leah not decided to come and check on you, you could be dead right now, or in the ICU. You are so lucky to have a group of people that genuinely care and love for you and it worries me that you aren’t utlising that, what did I promise your parents when you told them that you were going to be making the move to London?”

I bit down hard on my lip. Sam had always been like my second mom, or older sister, ever since I’d started playing with the Matildas, when I was 15. She’d been a major influence in my life, so when my parents had found out that I had plans to move to North London to play for Arsenal at 19 they were displeased to say the least, I was hardly 18 as well, still a baby. They’d made Sam promise a bunch of things to them, considering we were both in London together.

“That you wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and you’d keep me safe.”

Sam’s jaw locked even more than it previously had, her eyes were dark brown, stormy almost, I could feel the internal conflict she was going through just by looking at them.

“Exactly, so how do you think it makes me feel when you are endangering yourself? It makes me feel like I should be calling your parents and telling them that maybe this wasn’t the best decision, maybe you need another year or two at home before you can live by yourself out here.”

I shook my head at Sam, that was the last thing I wanted. After all, it had taken so much begging with my parents to get me out here in the first place, being sent back practically ensured they’d never let me come back out here.

“Sam, please, this is where I need to be.”

“I have no doubt in my mind that those words are true, on a playing level you should be here. But you continue to prove that you can’t be trusted to make decisions for yourself. Going out in the snow was crazy, not telling anyone you felt sick was crazy. You're not proving to me or your parents that this was a good idea.”

I could feel tears brimming up in the back of my eyes. It had taken a lot of effort to get my parents to let me be here, there was nothing they wanted less than to send their eighteen year old daughter to London, all by herself, playing in a senior women's team.

“Please, please let me stay. I can’t go home, if I go home then that’s the end for me, Perth won’t take me back after how I left. My parents have enough on their plate with six other kids, let alone having to deal with me, please, I need to stay. I’ll make better decisions, I promise, please just let me stay.”

I’d shot up in the bed, tugging the cords and blankets up with me. Sam sat herself down on the edge of my bed, looking at me eye to eye.

“I know you’re sorry, and I really want to believe that you can do this, there is nothing that I want more than for you to be here and proving how amazing you are, but your risking your own health Joey, and I toe the line there. What happens when you get injured and decide not to tell anybody, I know you and I know that you are never going to ask people for help and I can’t be around 24/7 here to look out for you, if I could I would. I can’t trust that you are going to look after yourself when I’m not here.”

I felt a series of big, fat, wet, warm tears drip down my cheek, I felt like shit and all of my dreams were being crushed.

“We’ll look after her, we’ll take her in if we have to. Nobody wants to see y/n/n going home because of this, we’ll look out for her, please don’t make her go home.”

It was Beth’s voice, from the other side of the room that caught my attention. There was a guilty expression across her face, Alessia, Katie, Caitlin and Beth all carrying the same similar guilty expression, my accomplices.

Sam turned to Beth, it was clear she was tossing up her options.

“Beth’s right, she should stay, she’s worked hard enough to stay and we can hardly afford losing any defenders right now. I’ll take her in, she can move into the spare room in my house, I run a tight ship, I’ll keep her under control.”

It was the voice of Leah that was both my saving grace and sent a chill of fear down my spine. Moving in with Leah didn’t exactly sound like my dream situation, I knew that Leah would hold me accountable for my shit, something I wasn’t necessarily ready to deal with. Sam had immense respect for the England captain though, often times she’d expressed to me how much she admired Leah for doing what she did at such a young age, she was stern though, she didn’t forget anything and nothing got past Leah.

“Okay, if she can move in with Williamson then she can stay, this is all stuff we can talk about when you are feeling better though, you need your rest joey, with all those meds running through your body god knows how tired you must be, hm?”

I squirmed a little bit under the covers, not wanting to give into Sam’s words but also not denying that she was right, I did feel tired. Sam’s hand found its way to my cheek, wiping away the tears I had shed and giving me a little smile, the smile she kept for these moments, the rough ones that warranted some kind of assurance that it was all going to be okay.

“Go to sleep Joey, we’ll figure it all out when you are feeling better, right now you need rest, so you can feel better.”

I relaxed back into the uncomfortable hospital pillows, that all of a sudden didn’t feel so uncomfortable to my body, which was slowly starting to fade into a deep cloud of sleep. Sam pressed a kiss to my hairline before sitting back down in her seat and watching me drift off to sleep. Maybe everything wasn’t perfect, maybe I still had things that I needed to learn but I did have one thing, and that was a family that I’d found in my teammates.

[babyyoda234]

Three Times the Batfamily has been disgusted by your love life...

Dating is hard... but dating in Gotham... Oh Brother... Here are all the times the Batfamily has been involved in your love life.

1st time: Valentines Day

I've really gotta stop going for nerdy guys. This never ends the way I want it to.

"You know Eddie. You could have bought me dinner..." I call out to the rambling rogue behind me, "Scratch that... I can list off a hundred different date ideas.... That DO NOT INVOLVE THE BATMAN."

I can hear a swift crack followed by a muffled cry.

"I like flowers... I'm sure there was a way you could incorporate a riddle with those."

Footsteps draw nearer.

"I honestly don't even think you are trying. What does a child make, but never see? Come on dude... Work on on yourself. Restraints are fun, but this is ridiculous."

Suddenly, my restraints loosen. Stumbling to my feet, I swiftly turn around to see Batman's foreboding gaze. Eddie lies face down passed out 3 feet away.

"Are you alright?" Batman questions carefully noting my lacy heart pj's on top my push up bra. My diamond question mark necklace glitters in the darkness.

"Uh... yeah... Guess I should probably find an apartment where the Riddler doesn't live next door."

Batman sighs before patting me on the back. I am weirdly comforted by the paternal look in his eyes.

"That would be for the best."

2nd time:

Nightwing raises a pointed eyebrow before covering Robin’s eyes. Robin smacks his gloved hand away.

“Come on…. Y/N…” Nightwing trails off.

I interrupt him before this can get anymore humiliating. Being left to be eaten by a man sized Venus Flytrap after a date is not how I imagined my night to go.

“I do not need a life lesson; I have work tomorrow.”

Robin dutifully unties my restraints. He carefully looks anywhere else except my green lingerie.

Nightwing clears his throat. Rummaging through fallen leaves, he asks

“Do you know where she might have left your clothes?”

I shake my head before I start searching the drawers to the nightstand. My sweaty palms create some difficulty turning the knobs.

“You know…” Nightwing continues leaning against the wall, “If you ever wanted to go on a date with someone who wasn’t going to be sent to Arkham… I’ve got this brother.”

My heart starts pounding. This is not happening. Robin’s jaw drops in disbelief.

“Are you seriously trying to set up Red Hood right now?” He gasps incredulously.

Both vigilantes listen to something being said into their ear pieces.

“Well, Jaybird. She’s prettier than anyone you’ve been talking to lately.”

My mouth gasps silently like a fish. Robin finally looks me up and down. He nods before agreeing. This child did not just....

Trying to ignore the hot waves of embarrassment, I finally force words to come out.

“GET OUT! I’ll find them myself!”

3rd time:

“Okay… but this time was not my fault.” I explain raising my hands in surrender. “How was I supposed to know that Two Faces favorite song would be ‘22’? I have to make a living somehow!”

Batgirl tries to keep a straight face, but when she glances back at Red Robin… they both burst out laughing.

“I’m sorry….” She says trying to be professional, “This isn’t funny.”

“Uh huh…” I respond narrowing my eyes at them.

Realizing my mortification, their laughter slowly dies down. The teenage vigilantes grow as serious as possible.

“So, Two Face took you captive after you dedicated 22 by Taylor Swift to him?” Robin questions analyzing the crime boss’s de office.

“Yes, I work at the iceberg lounge as a singer.”

“Where you ever an associate of Harvey Dent before his accident?”

My face goes red. This is not how I wanted today to go. I hate adding fuel to their fire.

“Something like that. I made some mistakes early in college.”

Batgirl bites her quivering lip to avoid laughing again. She checks her clip board left by Gordon.

“We’ll make sure GCPD gets back your… 2 themed underwear that went missing?”

I fantasize about those birds that slam their head underground to avoid conflict.

“I just want my computer. He can… keep the rest. I’m sure he’d like wearing it more than me.” I awkwardly trail off wrapping the robe tighter around my body.

Red Robin nods before muttering something into his ear piece.

“Okay, we’ll be on the search for that. I’m sure Red Hood can drop it off when he raids the lair tonight."

I start laughing before taking a step back. Putting my hands up, I interrupt.

“I can pick it up at Gordon’s office tomorrow. There’s… no need for… any of that.”

The two teens share a glance.

“Are you sure?” Batgirl inquires with a knowing smile in my direction.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Leave me out of this. I do not need to end up dead in crime alley because you guys thought it would be a good idea to set me up with your brother.”

Laughter can be heard in their comms. I vaguely make out “She’s got a point” in Nightwing’s voice.

With a reluctant grin, Batgirl shrugs. Before the vigilante duo leave, Red Robin flashes me an ornery grin.

“See you later.”

I respectfully flip them both off. Laughter echoes down the hallway as they leave.

[babydollmarauders]

TOLERATE IT — JOHN MARINO

john marino x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n’s love is tolerated at best, and she wonders what ever happened to her loving boyfriend

warnings: not much dialogue in the beginning?, happy or sad ending depending on the way you look at it, not proofread.

notes: i love writing angst but as a john girlie, this hurt me— but i did this to myself

the page turns, John’s fingers skimming it gently.

his head is dipped low, one leg perched on the other. he’s sat on the other end of the sofa, engrossed in his book; whereas i pay no attention to the movie that plays on the tv, rather watching him instead.

his demeanor is peaceful, and i know better than to actually disturb him. this is some of the only time he gets to relax, and i don’t want to take that away from him. so i sit quietly instead, just enjoying the rare company.

but i can’t help but wish he would actually do something with me. watch a movie, cuddle, talk, anything. instead i’m subjected to medium silence and the sound of paper flipping.

i turn the tv off, rising from the couch, and his eyes flicker up at my movement, but he dismisses it quickly, going back to his book.

“i’m going to bed.” i tell him softly, quietly yearning for him to join me, but instead he just hums in acknowledgment. “are you gonna join me?”

his eyes scan the page for a few more seconds as i stand before him, waiting for his response. finally, he looks up at me properly, shaking his head.

“no, i’m good.”

my heart sinks at his reply, but i nod, “okay.”

i spend my entire bedtime routine hoping that he’ll walk into the room. that maybe he’ll change his mind and for once, we’ll go to bed together; like we did early in our relationship. but when i climb into an empty bed and he’s still in the living room, i have to accept the fact that it’s not happening. that those days are apparently over.

**

i stir in my sleep, shifting under the weight of an arm draped over my waist, and for a second my heart leaps in my chest, thinking John has decided to cuddle me as i slept. but when i turn under his touch, my eyes fluttering open, i find him asleep. the spooning an unconscious movement, and as soon as it’s started, it’s already over, his arm drawing back as he moves in his slumber to lay on his back.

i settle on my side, resting my head in my hand as i watch the steady rise and fall of his chest in the darkness of the room. the silence piercing as i watch him breathe.

what ever happened to the boy who held me as we slept? the same one who comforted me when people criticized our five year age gap. the one who told me he would do anything to keep me happy.

***

my heart races in my chest as i set the dining table.

the usual plastic plates and cups being replaced for fine china and wine glasses. a singular candle is lit in the middle of the table, next to the steaming pasta that waits to be served. homemade french bread sits beside it, a dish of herb infused butter resting atop of the wood as well.

i spent all day in the kitchen, making everything from scratch. the noodles, the sauce, the bread, the butter, all done today by me. as well as John’s favorite chocolate cake, in which i got the recipe from his mother.

it’s officially our two year anniversary, and i took advantage of the fact that John had practice today and then was going to the gym. i figured a slightly early dinner and then dessert would be a good plan before i gave him his present and then hopefully we would make our way to the bedroom.

but now i sit in my seat at the table, awaiting his return. he had told me he would be home by six, but the clock on the dining room wall displays that it’s a quarter past seven and he still isn’t home.

i’ve stuck the food into the oven to keep warm at this point, but the empty chair across from me and the soft music that floats through the house taunts me.

“alexa, stop the music.” the instrumental cuts off abruptly, tears welling in my eyes at my boyfriends absence.

i’m just about ready to eat by myself and call it an early night when i hear the front door open, footsteps echoing through the house, getting closer and closer. they halt when he reaches the dining room, and i look up to find him standing in the doorway.

his brows are threaded together, his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“you made dinner?” he questions, setting his bag on the ground beside him.

i perk up immediately, disappointing myself with how quickly i’m ready to move past his lateness.

“yeah.” i smile, motioning toward the empty seat. “take a seat, i’ll go grab it out of the oven! i was waiting for you to get home.”

he nods, sitting down as i scurry towards the kitchen. i bring the pasta and bread and butter out one at a time before taking my seat across from him.

i’m on the edge of my seat, eagerly awaiting his praise for my cooking and the setup, or even just a ‘happy anniversary, baby.’ but it never comes. we eat silently as he scrolls on his phone, and when he finishes his food, he quickly stands to dismiss himself.

“wait!” he stops at my shout, furrowing his brows at me. “i made cake.”

my eyes are soft, silently begging him to stay.

despite the fact that he evidently forgot our anniversary, i’m still eager to please him; vying for his attention and love, the best i can.

he nods, settling back down in his seat.

“dinner, cake, wine, and glass plates?” he laughs, “you were feeling fancy tonight.”

my heart shatters in my chest. even though i know he forgot the date, it still hurts to hear him speak like it’s just another day. proving even further that he doesn’t know how special today is.

“well, yeah, it’s-” i’m so close to reminding him, but then i think of how guilty he’ll feel, and i stop. “it’s just been a good day.”

i plaster a smile on my lipstick covered lips, hoping he’ll buy it; and he does. he gives me a small smile back and i excuse myself to the kitchen, taking a moment to blink back tears before i cut into the cake, setting a slice on a plate and hurrying back to him.

i place the dessert in front of him, before sitting back down, just watching him as he eats. i’m no longer in a cake mood, my appetite gone as i push my still only half eaten pasta around my plate.

“Jack said hi, by the way.” he speaks between bites and i hum.

“that’s nice, i’ll have to text him.” i acknowledge. “i talked to your mom today.”

“you did?”

“yeah, i called her for the cake recipe.” i explain. “she said to tell you to call her.”

maybe she can remind him what day it is, seeing as she remembered it as soon as i called her.

“okay, i’ll call her soon.” he tells me, finishing his last bite before he stands once more.

“anything else, or can i take a shower now?” he asks, as though i’ve inconvenienced him somehow.

“you can shower.” i wait until he’s walking away, heading down the hallway to our room before i speak again, lowly whispering. “happy anniversary.”

i know i deserve better; that my love should be celebrated. i know that i deserve someone who will remember our anniversary; maybe even someone who will get me flowers just because and who will spend time with me and appreciate my love rather than tolerate it, but i love him.

***

i sit backwards, on my knees on a chair in the living room, facing the front door. i wait eagerly, checking the time on my phone religiously.

i know John should be home soon. a week long roadie finally ending with his long awaited return.

it’s half past two in the morning, much later than i normally stay up, but i refuse to let him arrive home without a proper welcoming.

my eyes are half lidded, but excitement still courses through my veins, remembering his three goals and seven assists in this past four games.

i perk up at the sound of the front door unlocking, watching with baited breath as it creaks open. John steps through the doorway, looking exhausted, slipping his shoes off and dropping his roadie bag on the floor.

i squeal excitedly, gaining his attention as i hop off my chair and run straight into his arms.

“welcome home, Johnny!” i cheer, snaking my arms around his neck, and jumping up to wrap my legs around his waist.

he stiffens for a split-second, letting out an ‘oomph’ before his hands fly to my butt to hold my weight.

“jesus, y/n, warn a guy, would you?” he huffs out a laugh and i lean back to look at his face, expecting a smile but all i see is a blank expression and tired eyes.

i give a sad smile, unwrapping my legs and letting my body slide down his.

suddenly, i feel incredibly insecure, my happy mood diminishing and quickly being replaced by regret.

“you’re right, i’m sorry.” i breathe out, backing away. “i guess i was overly excited.”

i turn quickly in order to keep him from seeing my now glassy eyes, tears threatening to spill as i retreat down the hall to our bedroom.

i don’t expect for him to accompany me, but suddenly i can hear his footsteps behind me, slowly following.

“what was that?” he questions as we reach the bedroom.

i can feel myself reaching my boiling point, choosing to ignore his words as i walk into the en-suite bathroom. i turn the shower water on, but he follows me into the bathroom too.

“y/n.”

y/n. not ‘babe’ or ‘love’. just y/n.

i swallow the lump in my throat before i turn to face him.

“aren’t you gonna go to bed?” i ask in attempt to avoid his question. “you seem tired.”

“aren’t you?” he raises a brow, and i shake my head.

i jab my thumb towards the shower behind me, “i’m gonna shower first.”

“i see that.” he huffs. “what was that? you just walked away from me.”

i sigh, knowing what’s finally coming, and turn to shut off the shower water before facing him again.

“doesn’t feel good, does it?” i walk around him, back into the bedroom, but he’s hot on my heels.

“what?” his hand grips my wrist, spinning me back around to look at him. “what are you talking about?”

“look, if this is all in my head, tell me now.” i start, only confusing him further by the looks of his expression. “but, you don’t love me anymore.”

tell me i’ve got it wrong.

he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before he opens them again. “what are you even saying? i’m dating you, aren’t i?”

“are you?” i laugh bitterly, taking a couple steps backwards. “or are you tolerating me?”

“y/n,” he sighs, shaking his head. “you’re tired. and i must’ve upset you somehow, but you’re not making any sense.”

“you don’t appreciate me!” i shout, my hands gesturing wildly in the air.

“i cooked a nice dinner for our anniversary and you were late and forgot the date! and while you’re off playing hockey and winning games, where am i? here! i sit here and polish plates until they gleam and glisten. i clean the house and sit and wait for your return, and then when you do get home, you don’t even seem happy to see me! at all!”

John blinks in surprise at my outburst, his lips parting to speak, but i cut him off before he can get a word out.

“i made you my everything and you don’t even seem to care! i’ve been begging for you to love me again but i’m done! what happened to the man that assured me that my past relationships didn’t define me? the you that actually spent time with me?”

my chest heaves as i regain my breath, watching his expression change from confusion to defensiveness.

“i spend time with you!” he huffs and i roll my eyes.

“no, you sit and you read or you watch games or you do something by yourself on the other side of the couch.” i clarify dejectedly, nearly ready to give up. “you don’t do things with me. and if i try, you wave me off.”

“i just- i don’t understand where this is coming from.” he tells me, and i slump on the end of the bed, furiously wiping away tears that have begun to fall.

“that’s just it. you assume i’m fine with this, because i’ve let it go on for too long. i’ve sat here, and i’ve painted you in the best colors, and i’ve put you on this pedestal. i told myself that if i just did more- if i just did anything you could ever hope for- then we would be fine. that eventually you’ll love me again and you’ll treat me how you used to and we would be happy. but instead i watch you live your life and i’m delegated to the sidelines, begging to be even a minor part of your life. you tolerate me living with you. you tolerate my existence. and you tolerate my love.

“but i’m done. i can’t do it anymore.” my face falls in my hands, sobs wracking my chest.

i’ve finally given up.

John is quiet, but i can hear his feet padding against the floor for a moment, moving farther away before he comes back.

his fingers spread across my thigh, and when i drag my hands away from my face, opening my eyes to look at him, he’s kneeled on the floor in front of me.

“i’m sorry that you feel i don’t love you anymore. i never meant to make you feel like you’re just tolerated in my life. but i promise you, i see you. i do appreciate everything you do for me, and the love that you give me.”

his hand leaves my skin, fumbling with something in his grasp before holding it up.

my heart skips a beat, those butterflies returning in my stomach as my lips part in surprise. my eyes lock in on the diamond ring that sits in the little black velvet box in his hands.

“i promise, you’re not just going tolerated. i love you, and i want you in my life forever.” my gaze flickers up to his face, and i already begin nodding my head. “will you marry me?”

i nod even faster, an excited grin spreading over my lips, and he smiles softly, removing the ring from the box and slipping it onto my outstretched finger.

i admire it for a second, appreciating how right it looks to have a ring on my finger.

this is it.

this is what i did it all for.

what i’ve waited my whole life for.

my hands cup his face, pulling him in to press my lips to his.

“i love you.” i whisper, my lips still burning for his, and in response, he pulls me in for another kiss.

when we finally part, we begin to get ready for bed, effectively ignoring the outburst i just had. and once we climb into bed, i kiss him once more, melting into his touch like i used to.

“i’m sorry, you must be tired. i took up so much of your time tonight, you could’ve been asleep by now.” i mumble, listening to his heartbeat under the weight of my head.

“it’s okay. don’t apologize.” his fingers run through my hair and he turns off his bedside lamp, blanketing the room in darkness. “i love you.”

i fully plan on responding, but amongst the comfort, my eyes have already turned heavy, and speaking feels like too much work. my breathing evens out as i bask in the closeness of this moment.

i love him.

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER FIVE: OATS

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink

This is chronologically the fifth chapter in the series

---

The day after the failed feast Dr Lecter enters your unhappy chamber to find you already awake, greasily feverish in the maelstrom of narcotic hangover. Moaning under the dripping cloth of your bedsheet, you wince from the light that punctures the room as Hannibal draws back the curtains with a determined flourish.

"This is what happens when you do not eat and drink enough, I'm afraid," he says, putting a lusciously cool hand to your brow. "The excitement around the table certainly didn't help matters. Had you been receptive, then you would have been hydrated, full-bellied, and ready for the day ahead. Alas, your mulish nature is the portcullis that refuses you entry into better health. I cannot raise it for you."

You haven't the life in you to retaliate to such sanctimonious jibes, and he well knows it.

Humming a strand of Vide Cor Meum, Hannibal glides about you, first plumping your pillow, then holding a glass of water to your lips until you must either drink, or drown. In fractured gulps you salve your chapped throat with it, then part your lips again for a spoon of porridge; to your surprise, the portion spilled from cutlery to tongue is slim, a suggestion of treaty, of a temporary kind.

"I will never make you eat more than is reasonable, little one," says Hannibal, meeting your narrowed stare so frankly that you are almost abashed by the look. "It would do you no good to upset your stomach any further. I will minimise your intake for a few days, at least."

The suggestion is so unbelievable that you search his plain expression for the merest taint of trickery.

"You're not... angry with me," you observe, at last.

Dr Lecter's head inclines.

"Any ill feelings between us were settled at dinner, were they not?"

He helps you to the bathroom, stepping politely outside the door as you list at a sloppy port-wise angle, gripping either side of the bowl with preventative force; you may fall should you let go, humiliate yourself in the necessity of further care.

That Hannibal reverts to a veneer of nurturing aid after an episode of violence with such undisturbed ease frightens you, as does your instinct to accept that profferred assistance. Too many years span from here to the last time you allowed yourself to do so, and though you know well Dr Lecter's malign in having manufactured such frailty, you may never regain the position to resist it without him.

As with Will, your way out of this house is to drive yourself further in.

"I'll return home early today," says Hannibal, as he eases you back into bed in stops and starts to accomodate each shimmer of nausea. "I can reschedule my afternoon appointments for another time."

"Don't bother," you mutter, against your pillow. "I want to be on my own."

"I'm aware of that. Nevertheless, I will be here to monitor you. If you're feeling better tonight, then I will conduct your next therapy session."

Fear flowers at your core, all thorn tipped leaves.

"I won't be better," you say, your lips still crushed to starched cotton. "That promise I made to you about trying— I can't stick to that. I can't be the person you need. And I can't eat. It's too hard for me."

Hannibal lays a hand on your back, soothing you as he might an infant with colic.

"I know," he says, simply. "Relapses are to be expected. Neither Will or I will admonish you for that. What I will not tolerate is rudeness. I have demonstrated what will occur if you do not keep your tongue in check."

At this your head snaps upright against the pull of sickness.

"Aren't you rude?" you ask, sharply. "And Will?"

Hannibal pats down your coverlet, quite unoffended.

"One might argue that is down to interpretation. I pride myself on cultivating elegance, which includes manners, as a matter of course. Will, however, is— unique. I overlook his cruder moments for the complexity layered beneath them. As for what we have done to you, it is unfortunate that you cannot observe the act through our eyes, and perceive its beauty, as well as your own."

To this, you have no answer. You can think only of snaring hands, of Will's stubble scarring your cheek, and the blood broken like bottled wine across your inner thighs, so much ugliness paraded as glory.

"Please drink the water I've left out for you," says Hannibal.

You do, for he will know, if you do not.

*

There was something in that glass, or the oats, you comprehend, for when you are next conscious you are propped upright in a leather chair, only part returned from witless repose.

A metronome clicks at your ear, back and forth.

Lights flash and cease, white and black their blinking through the timeless night in which Dr Lecter has you drown. You sit, or swim in it; you cannot tell. The fungal spell of Hannibal's cooking robs you of both voice and tether to the earth. You could be foam in a Homerean ocean, where men become pigs on its alien isles.

You too might be such a beast, or a child, or some sylph of amorphous matter trapped in such hampering skin.

The sound of your breath comes, shuttered and sharp.

A warm hand cups your chest, and your lungs seem to open to its gesture as though by unknown magic.

Then a voice murmurs from a face before you, its shape without edge, an orb.

"You are safe. You are cared for. You belong."

Like a switchblade across your eye the light comes again, and you are part of it, an impulse that is all life, all one.

Hannibal speaks your name, grounding you to him, as to a stack in some wild sea.

"I'm going to ask you some questions now," he tells you. "They may be difficult. Try to answer them honestly."

There is only a man here, there is only light; you cannot refuse them.

"Okay," you mumble.

Hannibal's pleasure in your answer is a current timed to the swishing metronome.

"How did your eating disorder begin?" he asks. "What did it look like, then?"

"Just a diet, at first," you say. "The meals got smaller and smaller. Then a lot of food scared me. I started counting calories. Throwing food out. Being around anyone eating was like I was being tortured. That's when I knew that something was really wrong with me."

You hear the scratch of a pen on an unseen pad.

"I see. And how did that realisation make you feel?"

"Nothing. I didn't care. Then I started to like it. Challenging myself. The compliments— feeling like I had something nobody else did, that I was so good at— It became everything I was. My identity, kind of."

How easy it is to speak, when you cannot see the expression of the listener before you.

"Trauma frequently shapes us in our formative years," Hannibal comments. "It is a natural response to build oneself in its image. So, let us retreat to older memories. Tell me of a time that you recall being afraid."

The flashing light numbs to an ebbing glow.

"There was this guy," you say. "A guy that my dad was friends with. Still is. His name is Leland Frost. He used to come over to our house all the time. He was always so friendly, but I knew that there was something wrong with him. There was something in his eyes, the way he laughed too much, or stood too close to me. Like he was putting on a rubber Hallowe'en mask of a regular guy, and everyone was just pretending it was fine, but they really weren't pretending."

"Elaborate."

You gnaw at your lower lip until you taste warm iron, and consider spitting out the calories.

"I tried to tell people about it," you say. "But Dad could never see it. He'd just say, 'oh, that's just Lee. Silly old Uncle Lee. That's just how he is.' But I knew. I saw him. I smelled the cheap rubber mask."

"Did this Uncle Lee ever hurt you?" asks Hannibal, softly. "Touch you in an inappropriate manner?"

This memory is dusky, a cobwebbed photograph.

"I don't know," you admit, at last. "I always thought he wanted to, though. I always thought the minute my parents left me alone with him something bad would happen. The waiting was always the worst part."

A pause, in which you sense rather than see Dr Lecter watching you through the dark-light-darkness.

"But maybe it wasn't Uncle Lee that I was waiting for," you say, at last. "Maybe it was you and Will."

The gloom becomes further marred by tears, and you feel a box of tissues being pressed into your loose hand.

"That's enough for today," says Hannibal, rising from his seat. "You've done well for me. This calls for a reward."

He crosses the room to pick up a telephone, glancing at you with an unintelligible heat in his eyes.

"Good evening," he says, into the receiver. "I hope this is a convenient time for you. Yes, that is correct; I'm calling about your daughter's progress. I am very satisfied with her cooperation today. We are approaching some early milestones."

Hearing the tinny, distant voices of your parents, you struggle towards a lucidity that feels so desperately out of touch.

Hannibal crosses the room towards you again and turns the phone away from his mouth to murmur, "I will allow you a few words to them, if you will be sensible."

By this he means: if you do not give the game away.

You nod your head jerkily and extend a fist as Dr Lecter introduces you into the conversation.

"She is here, now. Somewhat tired, but all is well."

You clenched the receiver to your ear, tears coming in such a quick patter that, at first, you can only sit in hyperventilating silence as your parents babble at you, their voices sharp with an underlying guilt.

"How are you, honey? It's so good to hear from you! We love you! Is everything okay?"

Each day you've been parted from them you've missed them as you would your most vital structures, with a sore and deathly strength, yet your love is not so stark as your disappointment in being so abandoned by them.

"No," you say, at last. "I'm not okay, Mom. Dad. How could you send me away and not even warn me?"

The babbling rises, panic in male and female iteration.

"We had no other choice. It was all we could think to do! We tried everything. But Dr Lecter's helping you, isn't he?"

Hannibal's stare is, itself, a warning.

Pressing your knuckles to your anguished mouth, you pass the telephone back to him, not trusting yourself not to scream for help and damn yourself to the harshest punishment that such an executioner of free will might hand to you.

"She is overwrought," says Dr Lecter, apologetically. "I'll call again next week."

He hangs up, and leans across to clean the tears from your face himself, ensuring the tissue is discarded in a wastpaper basket; even in this he must be perfect, organised and pristine. You hate him for it, this performance he makes of his life, preserving such details as no one would be likely to notice but him.

"I wish you hadn't let me talk to them," you whisper. "Now I feel even worse."

"Of course you do," says Hannibal. "Your family betrayed you. It would be much more unusual if you held no resentment towards them at all."

You squint up at him in accusation.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Leaving a wound open may sometimes allow it to dry, and subsequently heal. You will not advance without acknowledging the harm your parents have done to you, whether through dispatching you to me without consent, or by ignoring your justifiable fear of Leland Frost. The map to your mental injury is unfurling before us: the continents take shape, as do the names that mark each turn in your unhappy life. In time, I will know them all."

Weeping, you slip down in your chair, not wanting to see the truth that thrusts itself up from the outcrop of evil.

"I will help you to your room," says Dr Lecter. "More sleep is in order, I think."

*

Will Graham enters the house some time in the night; you hear his low voice through the floorboards as you lie in swaying wakefulness, wondering what brings the professor here at so late an hour. He stays for so long that he accepts an invite into one of Hannibal's spare rooms, a fact that you discern from the voices passing your door in the hallway.

Again you sleep, though not pleasantly, your psyche disturbed by the third presence in the building, and by the lasting bruise of Dr Lecter's relentless torments.

In this sleep you dream of an antlered thing burying you in a terracotta wood, its face so darkly passive as soil smothers your airways that you might well be a bone, stored there to be gnawed at some late and starving hour.

When you emerge from this haunted slumber you still feel the threads of it still noosed around you; dream-sick, drug-thick, you stagger across your bedroom and, finding the door unlocked, tumble on into the hallway beyond.

By chance you find Will's room, letting yourself into quarters that smell of night-sweat, and pine, and male musk. You scarcely know what you do as you climb into bed with him against his salty heat, nor why it is he, of your abusers, that you seek.

Will starts awake, wild-haired and horrified as he senses your body beside him. Your name bolts from his lips, scarcely recognisable, the utterance of an animal groomed to speak a human tongue.

"What are you doing here? You should be in your own room."

Keeping your back to him, you drowsily reply.

"Had a bad dream."

Will breathes an ironic laugh.

"And you think you'll sleep any better in my bed? I destroyed you, remember?"

Self-blame, self-loathing, all jagged and tail-swallowing teeth.

"No," you mumble. "He did. Not you, Daddy."

You feel Will sit up behind you, scratching a hand through his unruly curls.

"You're not in your right mind," he announces, gruffly. "I'd better tell Dr Lecter to stop giving you whatever medication you're on. It's not good for you. No wonder you're having nightmares."

Still, he doesn't attempt to turn you out of bed, or to call Hannibal to eject you on his behalf. He only slouches, gazing at you, until you turn on your side to look back at his pretty, troubled face in its nest of brindled shadow.

Will's shoulders still droop in a mode of shame, yet the black of the room deepens the blue of his eyes into a yearning colour through which many a woman would gladly fall. He wants you here, you realise, perhaps likes the power he holds in having you soft and needful beside him, in his lair, after all he's done.

You should detest him for feeling it, and you do.

But recognising that craving within him reawakens the understanding of that power you may yet hold over him, in return, the mistress of a cur that bites all but those that direct the leash.

It is a long way off, this control, but the taste of it will do, for now.

"Let me stay," you implore, fluttering sodden eyelashes in a coquettish attempt to convince him. "Please? Just for tonight? I don't want that dream to come back."

You'll loathe yourself for this, in the morning, but now all you care for is the night. Will seems to be having the same thought, for he lies back down on the mattress again, taking care to leave ample space between you.

How does he compartmentalise his violence—his taste for it—from his revulsion towards you, and further still from the empathy that stirs in him like a stamped out fire?

"Just one night," says Will, sternly. "I don't know what Hannibal is going to say about this."

You pull the quilt up under your chin, almost giddy with your achievement, and with it the comfort that pours over you like a September afternoon. This strange happiness you will remember, and wonder at, when all you should have known were the tatters of despair.

"Dr Lecter left my door unlocked," you say, as Will moves in restless, settling motions at your back, still refusing to make contact with your skin. "So it's really his fault I'm here, you know."

At this Will half-rises again, but whatever question or comment he murmurs is lost to your abrupt slumber.

By morning he is gone, and you are alone again, only the scent of the monster remaining about you to mark out your miserable self-treachery.

He is not there to see you thrust the sheets against your face and inhale their bitter stink, if only to claw back the triumph of having made vulnerable a man so very closed to contact of the most human kind.

He is not there, and he is everywhere.

Will is as part of this house as Dr Lecter, now.

[ayyy-pee]

Chapter 9 - Powerslide

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

Pairing: Suguru Geto x Female Reader, Choso Kamo x Female Reader

Summary: It's reader's turn to have an eye opening heart to heart with NanaGo.

Warning: Profanity because it's me, duh, mentions of emotional manipulation, reader finally making a choice!!!!, idk what else I can't remember what I even wrote

Suguru Art: YuOekk

Choso Art: @DmD_0_03

The annoying sensation of your phone ringing beneath your pillow pulls you from your dreamless sleep. With a groan, you silence it, ignoring whoever is reaching out to you this early in the morning. You know it’s not who you want it to be – your boss – because you’ve been placed on a temporary suspension until the investigation into the violence that took place on set has been completed.

It’s been a little over a week since the shitshow that was your photoshoot and you’ve spent your days wallowing in your bedroom since your followup meeting with Yaga. Just thinking about how it went down makes you shiver. You’re grateful for the dreamless sleep you’ve been having the last week or so. You fear you’d hear his deep, gravelly voice yelling expletives until your dying breath. 

In all honesty, you were surprised you’d even left with a suspension. If anything, you thought you would be leaving to make an appointment in the unemployment line. A suspension pending investigation gave you a sliver of hope that you may have a career to come back to. 

Your phone vibrates on your bed for what feels like the fiftieth time this morning. And just like the last morning and the morning before that, you ignore it, turning over in bed as you pull the blankets over your head. It dawns on you that you may feel better if you actually left your apartment, but any time you muster the courage to crawl out of bed, vivid images of the disaster on set run through your mind and you slink back beneath the sheets.

But you can’t hide away forever, you know that.

Again, your phone vibrates on your bed. With a groan, you finally pick it up. There are several unanswered texts from both Choso and Suguru, who you really don’t want to talk to. There are multiple missed calls from Suguru and one missed call and a voicemail from Choso. You don’t bother to listen. There are texts from Satoru checking to see how you’re doing and a friend request to your social media from Momo? But it’s the text at the top of your screen that really draws your attention.

It’s Nanami Kento.

He never texts. Sure, he’s been with your longtime friend, Satoru, for as long as you can remember, and you’d consider him a friend as well, but you never text each other.

You swipe your phone, unlocking the screen and tapping the message, your name the first thing you see at the beginning of his paragraph. You don’t even giggle at the goofy nickname Satoru saved his number as when you feel the serious tone of his text. 

Nanami Gojo’s Love Bun: Hello, 

Sorry to text you out of the blue like this. Let me preface this by saying I hope you’re doing alright. I’ll get to the point here.

Satoru had Suguru over for dinner last weekend and he filled us in on what took place at your photoshoot. Firstly, I hope you did not let those horribly misogynistic and frankly vile words Zenin said get to you. I don’t imagine you would.

Secondly, I don’t usually take it upon myself to involve myself in the matters of others unless asked, but I’d like to have you over for dinner tonight if you’re able to make it and discuss where your head is. I’m sure you’re aware of Suguru’s ability to over exaggerate and make statements leaning in his favor. 

Satoru is worried for both of you. He does not want to interfere, but I can’t sit idly and watch him worry himself to death. I think it would be a good idea to have you over if not to simply keep you company while you’re going through this.

If you can make it tonight at 7pm, we will have a plate ready for you. If not, just let me know.

- Kento

The gesture is nice, you can acknowledge that. And as much as you don’t want to move from this very comfortable spot on your bed, you think it’ll be a good idea to get out of the house for once. A night with friends, no guys vying for your attention, no pressure to choose someone, just…fun. You deserve that at least.

You: Hi Nanami. Thank you so much for the offer. I’ll see you all tonight.

He texts back within a few minutes.

Nanami Gojo’s Love Bun: Wonderful. See you tonight.

- - - - - -

The door to Nanami and Gojo’s apartment swings open, Satoru’s eyes literally beaming under the hallway lights. His brows draw together in confusion, head tilted to the side as he peers down at you. It may also be because you look like a tired sack of shit after all this time wallowing in your bedroom. But Satoru, the great friend he is, doesn’t comment on it.

“Hey? What are you doing here?” He steps aside, leaving room for you to come in. You move past him, already seeing Nanami setting their small, round dining table.

“Nanami invited me for dinner,” you explain, your answer being met with an “ah” from Satoru as he moves around you, motioning for you to take a seat at the table while he heads into the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine and two glasses for you and Nanami.

“Hello,” Nanami greets you as he plates the goddamn gourmet meal he made tonight. Any time you’ve been to Nanami and Satoru’s place, he’s always in the kitchen making something. Their house always smells like a damn Michelin restaurant

“Hey Nanami,” you return his greeting, as you sit down. Nanami and Satoru take a seat next to each other on the other side and Satoru pops open the bottle, pouring the wine into both your glass and Nanami’s. As usual, Satoru sticks to whatever sweet juice he’s in the mood for.

“This looks so good, Ken,” Satoru grins, leaning to the side to rest his head on Nanami’s shoulder. Nanami doesn’t acknowledge the compliment, but you can see the pink lightly dusting his cheeks. Nanami is the first to raise his utensils, never wanting to waste a moment to eat. As long as you’ve known Nanami and Satoru, dinner at their place has always been a quick experience. The moment the food hits the table, Nanami is all in, ready to judge his own cooking. It’s actually funny to watch his eyes close and his brows knit together on first bite as he assesses his creation. You and Satoru watch him with hardly concealed amusement. Satoru glances at you and grins, shaking his head. He looks back at his partner next to him, eyes sparkling. It makes you smile even harder. 

“Good,” Nanami voices to himself as he loses the concentrating look on his face. Satoru shakes his head again, picking up his own utensils to begin eating and you follow suit. There’s a lull in conversation for a bit and then Satoru finally asks what you know he’s been dying to get into. 

“Sooooo…what’s been up with you the last few months?” He nibbles at the food on his fork.

You shrug. “Didn’t Suguru tell you?”

Satoru rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but you know him. He likes to…embellish.”

You nod, chuckling because it’s so fucking true. Suguru turns everything into the damn Suguru show when he feels like he’s the victim, which you’re beginning to realize is almost always as of late.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” So you fill them in on what’s been happening between you and Suguru over the last few months, your version. “He’s been trying to change. Trying to be better.”

“How so?” Nanami questions, leaning back in his seat and taking a sip of his wine.

“I mean, he’s been doing sweet gestures like sending me flowers and breakfast. He texts me or calls me telling me he misses me. Things he didn’t do before.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, chuckling and you feel your irritation build.

“What?”

“That’s like the bare minimum.” He sighs. “After all this time, he suddenly wants to call you for something besides sex? Send you little gifts? I mean, come on.”

You feel your cheeks warm under Satoru’s scrutiny, because you know he’s right. And you can admit that you may have looked the other way about that fact because you were simply happy he was finally doing it. It’s embarrassing how desperate you were for Suguru to make the most minimal effort that you didn’t see how little he was actually doing.

“I mean…it’s more than he used to do,” you try to defend Suguru because…you don’t even know why.

“He’s love bombing you.” Satoru continues. His bright gaze holds yours and he sees the confusion loud and clear behind your eyes.

“Love…bombing?”

Nanami speaks up this time. “He’s trying to manipulate you into sticking around by giving you the attention and affection you’ve been asking of him for the duration of your…whatever it is.”

Love bombing…Manipulating you? Is that what’s been happening this whole time with Suguru? Suguru had always been straight up with you about his intentions, and while you weren’t particularly okay with it, you had agreed. Once you started seeing Choso too, he said he was fine with it, even said he wanted to be with you and he’d prove it. How was he manipulating you?

Somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s a very small voice screaming that you’re a fucking idiot.

As if he could see the wheels turning, Nanami interrupts your thoughts when he calls your name.

“Think about it. Satoru and I know about your situation with Suguru. We’ve also known Suguru for a long time, long before you knew him, and well…” he pauses, pursing his lips as if thinking carefully about what he says next. “Can you think of anything that’s happened that would trigger Suguru to suddenly want to be an upstanding partner for you?”

You sigh because you know where he’s going with this. Because the answer is obvious. 

“If I can be candid…” he asks.

You nod your approval. “Yes, of course.”

“It’s the new factor he didn’t account for in your life,” he states factually. And he’s absolutely right.

“I mean, he didn’t start acting like this, didn’t start wanting to change until I started seeing Choso, too.”

Satoru and Nanami nod in unison.

“Suguru doesn’t…share well,” Satoru mutters. “Doesn’t like other people trying to take what’s his.”

“I’m not his,” you affirm, almost defensively. “He’s told me that plenty of times.”

“Yeah, but that was before he saw you making eyes at Choso at the skatepark,” Satoru says. “You know he broke his skateboard when he saw Choso kiss you at the park?”

You want to laugh, but not because it’s funny. You want to laugh because everything is starting to dawn on you now; your entire situation with Suguru, how maybe you’ve been letting him act how he has because while he’s not really committing to anything, he’s giving you just enough to keep you attached. He’s been love bombing you, as Satoru said.

“He told me, yeah…on the date he took me on.”

Nanami and Satoru share a look and Satoru sighs.

“And Choso? How does he feel about all of this with Suguru?” Satoru asks.

Choso…

“He’s…” Your mind thinks back to your last real interaction with Choso, the sadness in his eyes when he confronted you about Suguru.

It’s always going to be him, isn’t it?

“He was okay with it at first, that I was still seeing Suguru and getting to know him at the same time. Somewhere along the way, that changed.”

“As expected,” Satoru chimes in. “I don’t know Choso at all, but with how interested he’s always seemed to be in you, he never struck me as a casual relationship type.”

“No…” You think about all the time you’ve spent with Choso and how understanding he’s always been with you, how he told you he’d wait for you to, how he’s always only ever been committed to you, even when traveling for competition. All the effort that he’s put into getting to know you, show you he cares for you. He’s never made you doubt his intentions, never made you nervous about where you stood with him.

And yet, you made him feel that way.

You treated Choso the way Suguru treats you, thinking he’d just always be there.

You rub your hands over your face, the feel of tears prickling at your waterline.

“I’m a fucking idiot,” you whisper, trying to hold back the sob. “I’m so stupid.”

Nanami shakes his head, reaching across the table to grab hold of your wrist. He pulls one of your hands away from your face so you can see him clearly. 

“You’re not stupid. Anyone could be in your situation. Are you maybe a little selfish for wanting to make Suguru change for you and hold onto Choso as well?”

“Yep! For dragging Choso along…” Satoru announces. “But honestly? So is Suguru for how he’s dragged you along all this time and made you feel like he was going to suddenly become this better person.”

“I’ve just wanted this side of Suguru for so long. It was nice to finally get it, but I just feel stupid for how long it took me to see that it’s always been this, that even with the promises he’s made, he’ll always be Suguru…And I feel like an asshole for how I’ve been treating Choso…He’s always been good to me.” You sniffle softly, wiping at your eyes. “Always. Without me asking.”

“You can always make that right,” Nanami notes as Satoru leans over, laying his head on Nanami’s shoulder.

You’ve been watching them throughout dinner, throughout this conversation. It’s their little touches throughout that you notice, their glances at each other, the way they share pieces of food with each other without the other asking, their unspoken language. There’s so much love between them in the smallest things they do. Pure, genuine love. 

You imagine what it would be like to have an actually healthy, functioning relationship. To be with someone who wants you and only you, and won’t ever hold back from proving it to you. You want that, you really do.You could have that. You could have all of that if you stopped fucking around and just made a choice. And made the right one.

- - - - - -

You leave Nanami and Satoru’s apartment shortly after dinner, thanking them for stepping in and opening your eyes. Your mind reels as you mull over everything you discussed. Everything is piecing itself together for you; being strung along by Suguru for all this time, your excitement when he finally decided he wanted to change, even through your apprehensiveness you had hope.

You may have enjoyed the attention Suguru was giving you, even if it was annoying most times. It was him finally doing what you had been asking for all this time.

And then there was Choso, who had been nothing but patient until just recently. It dawns on you that between you two, he saw Suguru for who he was. It seems he always had and even then he waited for you to come to your senses. That is, until he couldn’t anymore. He made his feelings clear at the photoshoot. Choso had never outright shown his jealousy or disdain of your feelings for Suguru – did you even have real feelings for Suguru anymore? You hardly saw him. You spent most of your time with Choso anyway. 

What were you even hoping to get from Suguru if he actually had changed? A real relationship? Commitment to only you? A relationship with both him and Choso?

What the fuck have you actually been doing all this time? With both of them?

Your phone rings in your pocket and you fish it out, your boss's name popping up on the screen and you answer.

“Mr. Yaga…hello.”

He gets straight to the point. “We’ve closed the photoshoot investigation. Let me start by saying this…what you do with your free time and who you do it with is a non-factor here. These skaters are not under contract with us. The issue here was the violence that took place.”

You nod along as he speaks. “Yes, I understand.”

“Now, that being said, Mr. Zenin has taken full responsibility for his actions and has apologized…” he pauses for a moment, clearing his throat. “This is all coming from his agent, so, do with that what you will. Anyway, you can thank Mr. Kamo for coming in and giving a written statement. We were able to take that into account and present it to Mr. Zenin, so given that Mr. Zenin escalated the situation, you’ll be able to return to work.”

There’s another long pause from Yaga and you almost think he’s hung up until his deep voice rings through the phone again. “Off the record…Take the next week off, gather your thoughts, get your shit together please because we cannot afford another instance of your personal life leaking into your professional one.”

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir. Thank you.” You end the call. You feel like you can’t breathe, your heart leaping into your throat. You have a job. You still have a job! And it’s all thanks to Choso. 

You swipe your phone, selecting the voicemail Choso left you a couple days ago. Your heart is pounding so hard, adrenaline still rushing after your conversation with Nanami as Choso’s voice rings clear through the speaker.

“Hey. I…um,” he clears his throat, his voice tense with nerves. “I know you probably don’t want to speak to me and honestly? That’s valid. I understand. I acted out of character and embarrassed you on what should have been your day. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t begin to express that enough. I spoke with your boss…Yaga? Nice guy…um…” He’s rambling and you’re standing in Nanami and Satoru’s hallway grinning like an idiot as you listen. “Anyway, I took full responsibility for instigating the fight. I told Yaga that our personal…whatever we have doesn’t impact your work in the slightest.” He pauses. “And neither does your…whatever you have with Suguru. He agreed.” You bite down softly on your bottom lip. “I told him that if Naoya pursues anything legally, I’ll take responsibility but Yaga doubts he will. Thinks that little worm wouldn’t be stupid enough to make himself look even worse than what the article published after they pulled him from the lineup.”

What?

They pulled Naoya? Yaga didn’t mention that.

“When you get a chance, if you want to, will you please call me back? I’d really like the chance to sit down and just…talk to you…bye.”

You listen to Choso’s voicemail two, three, maybe four more times before you finally leave Nanami and Satoru’s apartment building. You know exactly where you’re going next.

- - - - - -

Your fists lightly tap the door to the apartment ahead of you. Your hands are trembling and you’re pretty sure your anxiety is dripping from your pores. When the day started, you hadn't imagined that you’d end up here. You started the day sad, confused, angry. And you’ve ended it with clarity. Even if it took you weeks to get here, you got here. 

It only takes a minute before the door opens, dark eyes meeting yours, framed by the raven strands hanging loosely around them.

“Hey, I’m glad you came,” he says, voice making your heart…do nothing. Interesting…He steps aside so you can come in.

“Hey, Suguru.” You shake your head when he gestures for you to come inside again. “That’s okay. This won’t take long.”

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Kofi

A/N: DLSKFJKDJ READERRRR GODDDD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!

Taglist: @mimiszworld @mighty-luna @re-dd0 @k4zuhasleaf @nekonanamiiii @Sacvh @suguju @watyousayin @nothisispatrick300 @sukunasseventhfinger @mykyoon @athenaholmesher @nobody289x @OUTTHEBASEMENTNAE @alpacapum @cherribxio @gloomiigloom @xocreedvo @ficti0nalslxt @getousbabymama @510hz

[kosmicdream]

The FATE of FEAST FOR A KING

.. and Nasty Red Dogs… 

And some other miscellaneous thoughts about comics, writing, and time.... AND ENDINGS...

============= 

As I’m approaching 10 years on FFAK and NRD is currently 5, I’ve been reflecting a lot on How far this journey with comics has taken me and how far I still have yet to go. For those unaware, my first webcomic was actually Eggshells, which started in 2011, but i only started posting pages publicly in 2013. It too is unfinished, but its planned for 7 chapters. (I’m currently working on chapter 5, which probably will come out early next year.) I have 9 ongoing comics I’m working on. NINE!! 3 of those are FFAK related. (FFAK, After Dinner Treat, and the prequel series “Help.”) It is so many comics though. And beyond that! I have two other stories I’ve been working on for the past few years in secret, one being Nice Blue Cats, which I might still draw as a comic someday.. As well as a series of “one shots” that is meant to be its own collection. Slugmom and “The Teacher & The Fairy” are part of these one shot collections. Which, uh, it was designed to help me practice writing short stories. Which TT&TF is now going to be three parts long, and roughly 300 pages. So I guess that’s short enough…? Ha.. laughs… Anyway, as I was saying.. Sometimes I’m sure, readers might wonder. “Do you ever feel overwhelmed, with so many projects Kosmic?” Yeah dude. I sure fucking do. I got 9 of them! That’s more than a full pokemon team of projects that are potentially a decade + of work. A couple of them already are a decade old/older at this point. (Praeymoon is actually one of my oldest-lasting projects, even tho its first chapter only finally released in 2023.. I first attempted to draw ch1 back in 2016, but was unable to finish it and scrapped the “full color” angle i was trying then. ) All my current ongoing comic projects are as follows: Feast for a King, Nasty Red Dogs, Eggshells, The Teacher & the Fairy, Replacer, The Eyes of Miasma, FFAK: After Dinner Treat, FFAK: Help, are all written. The only one which isnt fully written is Praeymoon, which I don’t mind because the way that story is organized is almost more of a sandbox-fantasy world of mini stories. I’ll be honest, if you havent heard of Replacer or The Eyes of Miasma, I don’t blame you- its not that i don’t like those stories. They just kind of are the “most neglected” comics yet I’m also kind of amazed they exist at all, like I DONT know how I found the time to draw over 100 pages for both of them. They also have fully written outlines and all things considered, are probably only going to be under 400-500 pages in length. But that’s still a decent amount of work there. Its been ten years since I more or less started making webcomics… and as I plan, and try to calculate all my projects for the next 10 years, my main priority at the moment is well.. Finishing all of these fucking stories one way or another. Its hard! I don’t know if I can as I put way too much on my plate. But at the same time like.. Whatever. I could easily drop most of them, if I felt inclined to - but I don’t. They are my library of work, and I’ve sort of made an artist oath to myself that I will see as many of them to the end as I can. I’m excited that three are very close to its end. (Nasty Red Dogs, The Teacher & the Fairy, and Eggshells.) After that well.. I’ll see what I can cross off my list next once I get there.. That’s still going to take years to get those done. But hopefully not too many. 

[Spoilers for potential LENGTHS of FFAK/NRD.. And other things.. I speak very transparently about writing and working on comics here AND including my thoughts on ENDINGS.. You’ve been warned]

I’m comfortable enough sharing that the fairy comic is 3 parts, Eggshells is 7 chapters, but when it comes to FFAK/NRD.. Its much harder to give an estimate, or if sharing those things will only be disappointing or annoying to hear about.. If you have ever been around me for more than 10 minutes, i am constantly talk about the “length left” on these projects a lot anyway. At night, i count them in my head. In the day, I write little lists as if I’ve forgotten the names of them.. They are MY LIST.

 But for those who do not know and wish to, NRD is likely going to end with 10 chapters. I have extended this in the past, so it could still change.. but it only really has gotten “longer” due to pacing of scenes rather than the actual content. And Honestly, it was paced out specifically to avoid this next chapter. Not that I didn’t want to draw it, its because i was Scared to do it.. Why? Because there’s cars I have to draw in it. And dogs. I have drawn those things before, at least once or twice. But I do not enjoy drawing cars or dogs. Dogs are okay now, but i hate that they have legs. Dont give me references, i have those. Its just how my brain is, with those fuckign legs and how there’s four of them. I know practice makes perfect. Or do-able. I have drawn amost 1000 pages of NRD, i dont remember how they bend and i’ve forgiven myself for knowing there’s just some things god cannot do, which is to give kosmic the ability to look at a dog leg and understand. Anyway. Because of this reason, somehow, finishing NRD with it only possibly being 4 more chapters, still feels harder than finishing ALL of FFAK - which (drumroll) might be .. only around 10 or 12 chapters left. Yes, you heard me- for the second AND third arc. 10 or 12 more. Will that also change? Probably!!!!!! Like, yes… its been 9 years and I’ve completed a lot more than just 10 chapters of comics in that time.. But wrapping up a story is way harder and I dont know what that’s like..yet! But i feel still confident that i will. I mean, i don’t really have any other choice than to experience it. I used to recoil and fall apart just emotionally contemplating finishing FFAK. my FUCKING baby. My joy. You mean that has to end?? NEVER. My attachment to it and the characters was incomparable to anything else I had done, and in my mind ever WILL make… (and that is still true.) But.. I’m okay with that now and I actually look forward to seeing how it could end up. Even if its bad! 

Its kind of weird to say, I just don’t really think it will be.. super good? Like.. it could be? I don’t know how readers will react. I dont even know how I feel about the whole thing.. I have felt so many feelings about this comic already, now I’m kind of.. Past it in a new stage. Zen like peace almost. There’s just.. so much that I wanted to PUT in FFAK and so much i could STILL put in. But I kind of just am okay with what i wrote, does that even make sense? The whole comic has felt like such a fluke to me, from the very start. And I managed to accidentally make so many great things in it I don’t actually understand sometimes. And my dreams for the comic has been nearly limitless. I couldn’t possibly contain all the feelings I’ve had over this story over the many years I have been making it, and all the incredible narrative outcomes I could see the characters going in.. the possibilities, the parallels.. The anime music videos..  I would NOT compare my writing style to GRRM, I haven’t read his books. but I can’t help but feel a bit like a weird baby version of him with the amount of cast members I have to push around and draw.. And I want to be clear. If FFAK was written as a book, it wouldn’t happen. I cannot write books. I do not think writing books is easier/faster than making comics, but sometimes it is hard to have to draw everyone. Point is, I understand the reality of a long-term comic project now, I have numbers and logs to prove it  and my range. And I’m fairly consistent, even in my low days. So.. in recent years my writing style has.. has changed to accommodate.. Those.. General Realities i’ve observed in myself. 

That’s why the second arc excites me. It has a lot of uhh, urgency that underlies it. You might have already noticed a change in the tone in chapter 16, which I’ve been working on for almost a year now. (I mean, I’ve been working on the written version for.. LOL.. much longer.) Maybe you haven’t! It could all just be from my own POV with how differently i feel that I delegate time to characters now. I did not start “writing” FFAK until chapter 10, and then i did not really start WRITING writing ffak until about.. Honestly, i want to say as late as 2019. It TOOK SO LONG you guys. I dont even know how many fucking thousands of pages of madness word documents I’ve got, with revision after revision and trying to list, contain, every possibly plotline… character backstory.. Blah blah blah.. Ive cut it down so much its impressive only to me. I don’t remember my lore anymore , and i love it. My readers probably know my lore better, and I don’t love it. Except when it benefits me. Then Its good. I would not describe myself as a RUTHLESS cut THROAT author, im actually too way sentimental to really let go of anyone. That’s why it took me so long to kill off Rock, but also because I wanted spoon to look really sexy and evil and that’s hard to do sometimes when I cant remember what half side he is. And when he was flipping around, I had to actually make a paper doll for him so i could TRY .. TRY to draw his arm on the correct side. Sometimes I didn’t. I just let it go if the drawing is good enough and i let it be a fun game for the readers to catch. But anyway, That’s why characters like Aeschylus are still around. Now that time has passed, I kind of regret it. Rome was right.. I dont need Aeschylus here and I’m mad he brought his friend Randall too. That being said, they’re some of my favorite characters in this arc even if they’re totally useless. In general, i have tried my best to not repeat all my writing sins and all my regrets of arc 1. I would not have been able to do this without the help of NRD to help get me to see that I can get attached and motivated to write new stories. When I hit my writing block in 2016/2017, it almost broke FFAK. FFAK still continued, but it also didn’t. But i was patient, and i worked through it.. And now I look forward to the ends of my comics, not because I want them to end but I’m very deeply excited for all the new opportunities my imagination to go to. I don’t know what that will be like. I don’t know how long it will still take me to get there, but I have it on [digital] paper and it does feel good to see that. Its affirming. I feel like i have a clear mission and I feel strong enough to really do it and commit to it. The second arc has barely started but in my heart I’ve made peace with the ending, whatever it might actually result as. 

Plus if I finish it and its so bad, I’m sure that will be inspiring in itself! People might actually write fanfics!! I think a lot of readers are NOT going to enjoy the ships, for one. The MEAN greedy part of me hopes they don’t. That’s the most ruthless part of my writing to me is the ship choices. Oh! My evil mind. I mean theres no possible way to please everyone, or even myself, but there is a possible way to displease a lot of people. Including myself. So that’s kind of the route I find myself drawn to. Why? Because it gets me out of the hole of like.. I dunno, being stuck. 

I used to write out a lot of big posts but over the years, I’ve kinda stopped. Mostly bc they were honestly really repetitive..or about lore that didn’t truly matter too much… That hasn’t really changed. This post is more or less “im still working on it, everyone! Just hang tight! Wow it’ll be a crazy wild ride” but it also is something I wanted to write to myself as words of encouragement. This has been a tough year. Like so tough that its hard to think about. But its very nice to feel like, i guess, my drive for my stories hasn’t gone anywhere. If anything, i really feel like i’ve gone through the mourning and ego death of “not being able to write a thing how you want” and now I’ve made total peace with it. Its just gonna be what it is, and I like that actually. When my life is tough, my comics at the moment serve as a place of hope for me - and assurance that I can survive through tough years. That’s the message they have ultimately given me, finished or not. And… I honestly don’t think of FFAK or NRD as my masterpieces or anything, but i know they might very well be the only stories people will know of when they think of me. If they think of me! So I wanna do a complete job with those. Rest assured, it’ll get there. I cant make big promises about all the comics I work on… even the bonus comics for FFAK, but at least those main two are my main priorities. That has not changed. THE FIRE is still in me. Even if FFAK took a like.. Mental.. 5 year hiatus its back baby. 

I’m about 30 pages in to my 50 page script for chapter 16, so I guess it’ll be around 300-400 pages more before its done. Things are picking up speed! So it could be less. I am also preparing for the monster that is the 7th nasty red dogs chapter. I cannot stress ENOUGH that this next chapter, I have put off since chapter 4. Yes, I’ve actually buffed the story out to be longer than it intended, just to avoid drawing it. I even put a horse guy in there, I never draw horses because those ALSO have legs but they’re worse than dog legs. And, its not that i didn’t want to draw this part of the comic! But I didn’t think i could do it. It intimidated me. It still does, but, I’m gonna do it already. I know chapters 8-10 will be hard too but like…eh… I know in my heart its gonna really be about 7 for me. It always has been about 7 to me.. 2024 will be a big year for my comics for sure, just because of that alone I think. Not only will I have chapter 16 done, as the first step of the 2nd arc and a new adventure of my apocalyptic wormy drama, I’ll be facing my fears of the dog variety. Its TIME. 

I’m so happy people have stuck around for my work, or shared it with others, even if they’re a strange mess. Its interesting to see, who comes and goes. I still enjoy refreshing my comments every morning when I wake up, and right before I go to bed. Its comforting.

My closing thoughts on this. I don’t HATE the ending of FFAK. I… like it! Its an ending. But I LOVE the ending to NRD. i think that ones legit good, i hope. With FFAK, part of me kinda hopes that turning up the pressure on myself of proceeding anyway will help the story. I don’t really know, or expect the ending to change though LOL…. Maybe i’ll come up with something better, but it will be too late so I cant do it or something, and then we can ALL write fanfics together of something else. Then sometimes I think about GUNNM and how the first ending was retconned but then last order was like? Basically the first ending again? I dont know actually, its hard to remember. THATS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN BTW. Also the ending is not everyone dies, even though that ending is fun and tempting. I didn’t do it, because end of evangelion already exists and its got a great song to go along with it too. YES it is also tempting to have someone go “WELL That was A FEAST.. For a KING” as the like final line, but I.. it wont wont. I prommy i take the ending seriously.

The reason I wanted to write all this, with webcomics, I think in general too people are so scared about writing their big comics that take 328523895235 years and the ending being bad. I see so many webcomics just, kinda die before the finale.. Which I totally understand, But I just.. Wanna show everyone that its much better and much more satisfying to just write the ending even if its a fucking disaster LOL. Because ultimately, its a webcomic. I don’t even know how to spell but people read mine! And so.. If theres anything I feel like i can promise and deliver to the world of the internet/my readers, is this big fucking disaster mess.. But it will end someday! And I’ll miss it. I hope readers will too, when that day comes (?) in probably another… 10 years…. idk.... BUT UNTIL THEN.. I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of chapter 16!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

-Kosmic Dream

[deartouya]

GINGERBREAD COOKIES — HAWKS

❅ *:･ﾟkeigo is an awful baker, but luckily for him he makes up for it with his enthusiasm and pretty face.

*:･ﾟ❅ pairing: hawks x gn!reader

*:･ﾟ❅ content: fluff, established relationship, soso much domestic fluff, keigo's bad at baking but he's handsome so you put up with it, mentions of food/eating.

hehe this turned out cuter than i thought it would :3 alsoalso ik it makes sense for him to be able to cook !! but baking's a whole different skill so !! yeah !!

"What are you doing?"    Keigo starts, his feathers poofing and nearly sending your mixing bowl—one he must've haphazardly balanced on the edge of the sink—clattering to the ground. He looks comically caught, gripping your now dirty whisk with both hands and his eyes rounded in surprise. 

It takes a moment for your sleep-addled brain to catch up, to notice the batter and poorly greased pans—he's baking. Never a good sign when it comes to Keigo, he’s never been the best in the kitchen.  

You couldn’t count on two hands the times you’ve caught him huddled over the stove stirring something which should not be stirred or trying desperately to save the charred remains of dinner. Keigo had a multitude of practical skills, cooking anything but the basics just wasn’t one of them. At least not when you leave him unsupervised. 

“S’a little early to be baking cookies, isn’t it birdie?”  

He hums, eyes heavy and saccharine again with the weight of his grin, “never too early for something sweet, dovie.” 

You don’t bother responding, instead shuffling across the kitchen so you can drape yourself over his shoulders. You tuck your face into the crook of his shoulder, the heavy and warm smell of his cologne overwhelming as you nose along the line of his jaw. Your fingers reach to tangle in his hair, nails scratching lightly over his scalp and drawing a low, appreciative hum. 

The bowl of batter sits abandoned in front of him, and you finally get a better look at what he was trying to make. You think it’s supposed to be gingerbread, but it’s thick, full of clumped powder and smells overwhelmingly like cinnamon. 

“I don’t know if you’re doing that right, baby,” you tease, eyeing his clumpy batter mixture. “Think you’re supposed to mix it until there isn’t any clumps.” Your arms belt tighter around his waist, hooking your chin over his shoulder to get a better look at the mess. 

Keigo blinks then, staring down at the bowl with furrowed brows, “I've been following the recipe. It didn’t say what it was supposed to look like.”  

“Supposed to turn into dough, baby—uniform so you can roll it out and cut it into shapes.” 

His pout deepens then, returning the whisk to the bowl before detangling himself from you, settling against the counter to look at you. It’s then you notice just how messy he’d gotten, streaks of flour litter his cheeks and chin. The sight makes you laugh, leaning into him to wipe gently at his face with your thumbs. Keigo leans heavily into your touch, fighting to keep the pout on his face. “Mhm maybe you’ll have to stay and help me with them then, dove, you always make the best sweets.” 

"Only if you promise not to go anywhere near the oven. I’ll fix the batter and you can help decorate them once they’re baked.” Keigo finally lets the smile grow on his face, leaning to nudge your nose with his own. 

“Aww, you don’t think I can manage a few cookies all by myself? I think the dough woulda turned out good if you’d left me to it,” his voice is light and teasing as he turns into you, lips skating across your cheek. 

“I think you would’ve come out with some rock-hard cookies if I let you try and put that batter in the oven,” with a quick kiss to his collar, you tug him back away from the counter. “Now scooch—quicker we get these made the quicker I can drag you back to bed, hero.” 

He hums, letting you take his space in front of the stove and replacing your spot, draping his broad form over you. Keigo watches as you work, chin hooked over your shoulder and pressing incredibly unhelpful kisses to them. 

You’re not entirely sure he knows just how unhelpful he’s being, a heavy weight at your back which forces you to awkwardly shuffle to get ingredients and makes whisking a much harder task than it should be. 

You quickly learn he’s not much better at decorating the cookies then he is baking them, icing melted and crudely overlapping the lines of what was supposed to be a Christmas tree. 

At least he’s pretty.

tags: @dinodumbass ; @uwuthatshit ; @hirugummies ; @dukina ; @trashy-bowtie ; @boo-kugo ;

[stayandot8]

Come With Me

Genre: angst from Part One turning to fluff

Relationship type: established boyfriend/girlfriend

Important Contents: Part 2 of Stay With Me. More proof that I will do absolutely anything if someone asks 😂 Anon, I hope you enjoy this and I hope it's what you had in mind.

WC: 2.9k

Part One l masterlist

“Pack your stuff for a weekend. I’m kidnapping you.”

I couldn’t help my grin as Chris stared at me and my intrusion in his room. His face contorted from shock to confusion the longer I stared back, unmoving and tapping my foot expectantly. 

“What?” He didn’t move, blankly staring at me. 

“I know it’s early, but your brain should be catching up by now. I’m kidnapping you and taking you away to an undisclosed location. Don’t worry, we’re not leaving the country.” I sauntered over to his closet to grab his duffel bag and put it on his bed. “Now start packing before I do it for you and all you can find in your bag are socks.” He smirked at me as he followed me, stopping my movements with a grab at my arm. He whirled me around to face him, drawing his face closer to mine. His breath tickled my nose.

“You know I love being naked around you.” My breath hitched, his voice sending chills down my spine. I missed him like this, playful and cheeky. He had started to return to himself bit by bit. Before I could let it take over fully, I tried to remember my goal for the day. 

“Not when you’re covered in sunburn.” He stepped away from me to look over my features, searching for any hints I was unknowingly giving.

“Sunburn? Are we going to the beach?!” I shrugged, the corner of my lip twitching up as I stepped out of his immediate vicinity towards his door. 

“My car is downstairs. You’ve got ten minutes. And if I see your laptop in your bag, I’m throwing it in the ocean!”

***

“You drag me out of my house away from my kids to an undisclosed location. The least you can do is stop for snacks.” He turned his whole body to face me from the passenger seat, making his eyes go wide and prepared to beg. Little did he know he didn’t have to. 

“Save your puppy eyes for the inevitable argument over who’s cooking dinner tonight. We’re stopping anyways. You think I’m spending a prolonged amount of time in a car with you and not feeding you? What kind of girlfriend would that make me?” I pulled into a parking space in front of convenience store, grabbing my wallet before getting out. As soon as we had pulled in however, Chris had practically sprinted out of the car and into the store with a child-like excitement returning to his face. I sighed, shutting the car door and following my toddler into the fluorescent-lit store.

I roamed through the aisles, browsing through my different options of chips, snack bars, and candy until I saw someone come to my aisle holding so many bags I couldn’t see his face, I moved so he could pass in front of me, minding my business.

“I don’t know how far we’re going so I got everything.” The familiar voice made me do a double take. 

“Chris, you couldn’t eat that much if you tried.” I shook my head, trying to stifle my laughter as I continued looking for myself. He dropped everything in his hands onto the floor in a loud crash. I widened my eyes to find him jutting out his bottom lip in a pout and faux angry face. 

“I could too.” He crossed his arms and stomped his foot.

“Oh my god, you really are five. I will buy everything in your arms if you pick it all up now.” I grabbed the nearest bag of candy that suited my fancy while Chris heeded my offer, picking up the plastic bottles and bars he had and followed me to the front, not seeing the smile fighting its way onto my lips. 

He stopped at the glasses tower while I waited in line, somehow managing to transfer his haul to me. He looked over the stand carefully, as if contemplating which to wear on the runway. He snatched a hot pink pair with white hearts all over it, clearly a child’s size, and wrestled it over his ears. 

“What do you think?” His face deadpanned to look as serious as he could while sporting them.

“I love them, I do. But I think there’s something that wouldn’t give you a headache if you wore them too long.” He scrunched his face in disappointment, taking hte glasses off and placing them back where they went. He continued, pausing every once in a while to take another pair off the tower and look them over. He had disappeared where I couldn’t see him. I had neared the front of the line and just as I was about to call for him, he appeared again. He had found a dark blue pair with cartoon flames of orange and yellow. They were also clearly made for someone younger, but he now had the biggest smile. A smile that radiated from his joy. A smile that could only appear if he was happy. A smile I hadn’t seen for a while. 

“I found another one too.” He showed off the second pair he was holding. I couldn’t contain it any longer. His joy was infectious. 

“Perfect.”

Back in the car and officially on the road, I let Chris eat his snacks and scroll through his phone for about ten minutes before I told him the rules for this trip.

“Did you tell everyone about this trip but me?! Changbin just said ‘have fun’ with a winky face and he won’t say any more.”

“Okay, that’s enough of that. Stop trying to ruin it” I reached for his phone and dropped it into my bag in the seat behind him. 

“Hey!” Chris’s eyes were large in shock at what I had dared do, his smile growing ever so slowly. I pulled mine from the pocket between our seats and handed it to him. 

“Open my music and find the playlist called Sunroof Vibes and play it.” 

“What’s your password?” I couldn’t believe he didn’t know already. Had I really not told him until now? I felt the corners of my mouth twitch. 

“Your birthday.” I felt him snap his head towards me. I forced my eyes to stay on the road but I couldn’t miss the flash of his teeth as he giggled to himself. 

“My password is yours. The kids always tease me for it all the time.” The blush was evident on both of our cheeks as a comfortable pause settled on us. He scrolled through my phone and tapped something and a familiar tune started to play through my car speakers. “I don’t think I know this one.” He started to bob his head in time to the beat, looking straight through the windshield to the open road. 

“I made this when I was planning for this trip. It should be full of songs you don’t know. To keep you entertained.” I gave him a pointed look for a second and he rolled his eyes. He bent to search through the bag of snacks before pulling out a particularly huge lollipop. He unwrapped it and stuck it in his mouth, making an overexaggerated noise of contentment as he slouched back in his seat and brought his legs to wrap his arms around. He continued to shake his shoulders in time with the music as he stared out the window, his smile proof that I had the cutest boyfriend ever.

***

Two hours later, we pulled into the seaside city where our getaway was to take place. The city was smaller, less stores and hustle and bustle around. Once we entered the neighborhood, a street as far as the eye could see with small cottages of varying shapes, sizes, and colors all lining the streets with the beach just on the other side. The sun was high in the sky, beaming down and warming the sand and the water, waiting and inviting us to relax our troubles away. The instant release of tension from Chris’s shoulders as we arrived told me I knew him as well as I thought. He loved the beach as much as I did and now I could show him that I did indeed know him, in case he ever had any doubt. 

When he sat up in the passenger seat, it was to watch the houses pass by, naming them as we drove by. 

“They’re all puns, baby, look! That one says ‘Sun of the beach’ and that one with the yellow roof says ‘Girls just wanna have sun’ and that one says ‘Happy as a clam’. I want a beach house so I can name it something like that.”

“I fully support that dream.” I had to chuckle to myself, his excitement contagious. Even though I knew where we were going. The long road turned from paved to loose gravel, the houses getting farther apart. We were moving from the more populated area to the place where the locals usually stayed when the weather got warmer. Each cottage had about a quarter mile of space around them, most of them directly on the beach itself. One could walk from the descending steps right to the water. Coincidentally, this was where our cottage was. 

I pulled the car into a driveway of paved cement, the carport directly under the seafoam green house and the stairs to the upper deck and house to the immediate left. There was a little wooden crow’s nest, a place to watch the water from above everything, on top. That would be the best place to watch the sun settle down for the night. The sign with the cottage name was Chris’s favorite part though.

“‘Aloha beaches’?! That’s my favorite so far.” He said in wonder as he opened his door and walked around to the trunk to grab his bag and pillow for the night. He started up the stairs and disappeared, his steps creaking above me as I grabbed the rest of the belongings. I grabbed the keys from the lock box and trudged up the wooden stairs. 

He had dropped his stuff at his side while he waited and was staring at the sea, letting the breeze toss his curly hair every which way. His vision had gone distant as he stared out at the rough waters, his features gone soft with his leaning on the railing. This was how I liked to watch him. He looked so at peace with himself, with the world. No one was bothering him, no one demanding him to do this or work on that, no work to bury himself in. When he was alone with his thoughts like this, the quiet moments like this were what made me fall for him in the beginning. This was what he needed. What I needed for him. 

Letting him be alone as he wanted, I reached for his things and unlocked the sliding glass doors to enter our home for the next two days. The first room had a cozy feel about it, being smaller than expected but fully furnished with a plush couch and a television. A bookstand of games of every type stood in the corner, and a picnic table sat next to the kitchen, painted a yellow years ago and had withered with age and use and love. The kitchen with its wooden cupboards and dull wallpaper whispered ‘come, use me. Get comfortable’. The pictures on the website didn’t do it justice. I chose well. 

Down the hallway, there were picture frames on the beige walls full of pictures of seashells and waves, some drawings or paintings and others photos. I stopped to evaluate each, thinking they complimented the place well. Three doorways were scattered along the skinny hall, one leading to a bathroom, one to a bedroom, and another leading to the wooden nest on top of the house. I peeked into the bathing room, seeing more of the pictures of shells along the bright blue along with a pink shower curtain. Fuzzy pink rugs strewn across the floor tied the small room together. 

The bedroom was my second favorite place. More bright blue walls but with pictures of the sand instead of shells. The bed was large, big enough for each of us to have our own space. The comforter was an off-white and tucked into a decorative pillow at the head. A dresser and nightstand completed the room. It was simple but not large enough to feel formal. It was perfect. 

The sound of the sliding door closing brought me out of my adventurous spirit. Chris’s voice called to me from the front room as I put down our bags on the bed.

“Oh my god, they have Uno! We are so playing that tonight!”  He joined me in looking at the different rooms until he caught up with me. “Oh I like this room. And this bed is so big I don’t have to worry about you clinging to me.” He ran his hands over the blanket as he joked. 

“Excuse me?! You’re the Aussie, you’re the koala. You cling to me like your life depends on it and I have seven other people who would back me up on that.” He looked at the ceiling, trying not to laugh at my retort. Mainly because he knew it was true. I grabbed his hand and intertwined it with mine as I dragged him with me back out to the hall. “Let me show you the best part.” We followed the last door up its small staircase and emerged in the little wooden nest. The wooden railing came up to our waist with a bench built in on either side of the rectangular space. The open air around us came straight from the sea, the sound of the water more prominent up here. Our hands still connected, he brought me to the side closest to the water. 

“Let’s eat up here tonight, hm? I think that’s just what we need.” He simply nodded, still looking longingly out at the water. “Come on, let’s go sit in the sand.” That was when he sprinted down the stairs without me and I heard the door slam behind him as he ran towards the water. My laughter was loud, watching his feet kick up sand. He paused when he realized I wasn’t behind him. 

“Come on!” He shouted up at me. 

I grabbed a volleyball on my way down from a side closet in the carport below and spotted a small grill and smirked as the idea blossomed in my mind. I knew what I was getting for dinner. 

The feeling of the sand between my toes was liberating. Watching him sit down and run it through his fingers like a child discovering it for the first time settled something deep within me. I approached him and sat down, only giving him an inch of space between us. 

“What’re you thinking about? You’ve staring at the water every chance you get, all solemn like.” He smiled out at the water, not quite meeting my eyes. 

“Being out here reminds me of home. Makes me think of how small I am in the grand scheme of things here on this planet. He would’ve wanted me to take advantage of my time here, making sure whatever mark I leave on this earth is a good one. I want whoever I become to be someone he could be proud of.”

“He would be proud, Chris. I know he would be.” I nudged his shoulder, already warm from the summer sun. “For what it’s worth, I know I am. Everything you do makes me proud. I know my opinion doesn’t really matter, but-”

“It matters.” He had suddenly gotten so serious, staring striaght into my soul as he interrupted me. “Your opinion means everything to me.” I smiled down at my feet to get away from his eyes and their searing gaze. 

“I’m terrified of the things I would do for you. I don’t think you realize how deep this shit goes for me. You mean everything to me and I truly don’t know what I would do without you. You’re…it for me. I can’t see myself with anyone else.” My turn to stare at the vast crystal blue. 

“I know. I feel the same way. I wouldn't have gotten through it like I did without you. I never want to find out what my life would be like without you.” He tilted my chin to look at him, his simple upturn of his mouth enough to make me melt. 

“You play your cards right and you’ll never find out. Now let’s play some volleyball before we go to the store so I can pick out what meat you’re grilling for me.”

“Oh, I’m grilling for you now? I thought this was my vacation!” He snatched the ball from my other side as he stood and started walking to put some distance between us. 

“How about this? If I can set it to you and you can hit it to where I can’t get it, I’ll cook. But if you can’t, not only are you grilling but you’re paying too.” I raised my brows in defiance of him. 

“What?! How is that fair?” He protested. 

“It’s not!” I said as I slammed the ball towards him. He dove in the sand, missing it but just barely. My fit of giggles was instant as he glanced my way and shook his head.

“Okay, I see how it is. You’re in for it now.” He chased after the ball that went behind him. 

Needless to say his wallet got more of a workout than he did.

[purrplegyuu]

Cold | Choi Beomgyu

Index

Chapter three

Warnings: unhappiness, slightly angst, soft beomgyu, abusive mother, swearing. omg the softest chapter eveeer

Word count: 1.4k

Taglist: @arianap23e, @haatohwa

I don't know why is it soooo soft, I don't like it ughhh. Like this is a dark story. Anyways, the following chapters are gonna be waaaay darker (i mean i hope). I kinda like soft Beommie tho...

Let me know if you find any kind of mistake, i'm not a native speaker and this helps me so so so much ^_^

Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list, if you want to suggest an event to happen on next chapters or if you have any question about any detail. Luv yaa (●'◡'●)

I’m not happy. I know that. I know I will never go to school with a bright smile on my face like Jiwoo, because unlike her, I don’t have anything that makes me enjoy sitting on an uncomfortable chair for hours, looking at the professors as if I am paying attention, and talk kindly to my classmates as if I don’t hate them so much.

I even started to believe happiness is a vile lie American series have shown to us.

However, lately, these bad feelings have been increasing. And dad knows that.

That’s why he came home early on a saturday night and announced that we were going on vacation to that pretty house on a lake that his mother left him as an inheritance. 

“You okay guys?” He asks while driving, looking at me through the mirror. I smile slightly at him, nodding. “Gyu, I heard you got really good grades again. Bet your mother is really really proud” Beomgyu looks at him back, quiet, and totally ignores him. 

The awkward aura all over the car now, as dad looks at Beomgyu’s mother, scared of making his relationship even worse. He has tried thousands of ways to get along with Beomgyu, but the boy sitting by my side never really cared.

Once we arrive, dad gets out of his car, stretching his back. I look at Beomgyu. He really hates my father. At least that’s what it looks like—he gets even darker when our parents are close to him, doesn’t even smirk at any kind of jokes and doesn’t say a single word until they are far away again. 

But today, he looks even more dark than usual, which makes me feel a bit scared.

I get out of the car when he does. I see his mother running towards my dad in order to enter the house with him. 

We both stand in front of the house quietly, looking at the way our parents play like kids with their luggage as they take it in the house. They really look like a young couple. However, I find it a bit weird, but I guess it is just because I never liked her.

I look around. There are so many memories from my childhood—the garden full of flowers I planted when I was five, the rustic oven I used to make pizza in when I was eight, the lake where I learned how to swim when I was nine. But everything looks just too old and dirty—it’s been seven years since the last time we came here, it’s been seven years since the last time I enjoyed being in such a place… it’s been seven years since I last saw her.

I walk through the trees until I have reached a certain place. A small dock made of old wood, mouldy and poorly stable. Hundreds of drawings all over one of the wood tiles—’Jeongseo’ on top of everything, followed by ‘Namhyuk’ and ‘Dami’.

I really miss those times.

By 6 p. m., dad calls me to the big dock in front of our house. 

“Gaeum, honey, could you please go get the meat?” Beomgyu’s mom smiles at him, and makes a disgusted face when she turns around. Dad’s on the white boat his father used to drive right before dying three years ago. Everything I can think about when I see it, is him swearing he will never use it again because it was his dad’s, not his.

“We’re taking Luna on an expedition” he says. I can see the happiness on his face. Luna is the name grandpa gave his boat. “Remember when we used to go to the other side of the lake?” I nod. “Well, we are going to go there to take the dinner tonight” a big smile on his face makes me force myself to smile although I’m not happy or excited. 

“I will go get a sweater”

When I get in the house, I don’t see Gaeum in the kitchen, which I found a bit weird, but don’t really pay attention to it. I go to my room, take a pink sweater and try it on in front of the mirror. I’m wearing a long-sleeved dark shirt which is supposed to cover me up enough to make me feel warm, however, the short jean skirt makes it hard for me to get warm. Even with a big coat, and in the house, I’m trembling.

However, I get out of my room, holding a white blanket, and stop walking when I hear some noises in Beomgyu’s room. The door is closed, so I cannot see anything, but I don’t also see any light under the door, even though it’s 6:30 p. m., and it’s very dark already. 

“Don’t be fucking dumb” Gaeum’s voice sounding so different—meaner, unlike her usual fake sweet voice tone. “Could you please think a bit? Ha, you’re almost an adult, why would I have to ask you to not be so dumb?” The door of my room closes strongly due to the air running through my open window, which makes me jump, touching my chest. No more sounds in the room makes me feel scared someone can catch me, so I walk back to the door.

Gaeum gets out of Beomgyu’s room, and I look at her, trying to look as natural as possible, holding tightly my blanket, faking a blank face to her like I didn’t hear anything. 

“What?” I ask when she keeps looking at me. I even impress myself with my almost perfect acting. 

“Are you ready? I’m asking Beomgyu if he is also ready” I look in his room. He’s not visible from outside, so I just nod to her, going down once again.

Some minutes after that, Gaeum gets on the boat, giving dad the things he asked for and his coat. Beomgyu walks behind her, blank face as always, and doesn’t look at dad, just gets in the boat and sits by my side. 

Dad knows perfectly how to drive the boat, so he does it while we all try to warm ourselves with our coats.

The place we and Beomgyu are sitting is lower than the place our parents are at, so they can’t see us unless they go down.

That’s why he puts his hand on my thigh, caressing it as we’re alone over there. I look at him, looking at the lake deeply. His soft hair moving with the air, his face even prettier than ever, flawless skin, and some red marks on his cheeks like he has just cried. 

“You don’t seem that happy” he says, still looking at the lake. 

“I never look happy” I say, jokingly. Spending so much time with Jiwoo has started to affect me. But he doesn’t laugh. The silence makes me want to be sincere with him. Guess he has this effect on me. “I don’t really like here” He turns around to look at me, almost surprised at my words. It’s a pretty and almost paradisiacal place. Why wouldn’t I like it? “Everything I can think about when I’m here is her… the last time I saw mom” 

We stay silent for a few minutes, weirdly enjoying each other’s company. 

Then, he talks once again. “I know you listened” his husky voice should make me feel scared, however, his hands touching me so softly, his head against mine, his arm around me, his body warming me up… I can’t be scared even if he says he will kill me after that.  And I wonder if that kind of scenes are the reason I love him so much even when he treats me so wrong most of the time. Maybe I don’t love him, maybe I just love the way he treats me so wrong, but sometimes, he acts like he loves me back.

I don’t try to deny it. He knows me well. The voice tone he used isn’t even doubtful. He knows I listened.

“Don’t want to know why was she so mad?” Weirdly, everytime he doesn’t use pet names, it’s just because he’s treating me well. 

I look at him quietly. I find it a bit acted the way he fakes peace, like it doesn’t really bother him. His eyes a bit red, like his nose and cheeks. 

“She found out I’m fucking someone” He flashes a bit more than usual. “, and scolded me for not using condom” His eyes shiny, and can feel like he’s being forced or something like that. However, I don’t say anything.

I never say anything. 

[harley-sunday]

August Rush [09]

Summary: You’ve known Carlos for almost as long as you have been working in Formula One but you never expected it would take you seven years and a concussion to realise that maybe you like him as more than just a friend.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x reader (OFC nicknamed Pip) | Max Verstappen x reader (best friends)

Warnings: Language. NSFW. 18+. It gets a little- Intense, ok? Ok. 

Word count: 5.8k

AN: I guess four months between updates is how I roll now… But no, seriously, it’s been a long four months, believe me, I know. I have been (very publicly) struggling with getting this next part written but it finally happened. Today. Weird. Anyway. More good news - the next part is almost done as well. I don’t know how that happened either. So yeah, what was originally going to be a four-part story has now turned into a ten-parter that I love with all my heart. I hope you do too. Please feel free to come yell at me in the comments :) ♥

Masterlist

The sound of your alarm pulls you out of a deep sleep but before you have the chance to reach over Carlos to grab your phone from the night stand he’s already turned it off and mutters something that sounds like, “Too early.”

“I know,” you whisper as you slide one of your legs in between his and snuggle into him, “but I have that press release to put out, remember?”

“Hmm,” he agrees half-heartedly and presses a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you. “Isn’t that at ten?”

“It’s getting sent out at ten,” you reply in a whisper, feeling your eyes getting heavy again, “but I have to brief Graham and Franz before that. We have a call at-” you let out a yawn and feel Carlos tighten his arms around you, “-at nine.” 

 “It’s only seven-”

“I wanted to be prepared,” you try to counter, but you know it’s a losing battle. Dinner with Carlos’ parents was always going to be a long affair but after Carlos told them you were dating, the champagne came out and you didn’t make it back home until at least two in the morning. 

Carlos reaches behind him and unlocks his phone, “I’m setting my alarm for eight-fifteen, ok?”

“Hmm-”

“Hmm,” he echoes, pressing another kiss to your hair. “I just want to have my girlfriend to myself a little longer, cariño. Is that so bad?”

“Must be nice, “ you mutter against his chest.

Carlos lets out a quiet laugh, “What?”

“Must be nice to be your girlfriend,” you whisper as you put your hand up to his face and let your fingers dance over his temple and into his hair.

He chuckles and turns his face towards your hand, kissing the inside of your palm, “I sure hope it is.” 

***

“That’s everything,” you tell Graham and Franz, the team manager and team principal of Alpha Tauri, after about fifteen minutes or so of briefing them. “We will send out the press release, add your statement to it, Graham, and if they have any further questions we will redirect them to the press conference on Thursday.” 

“Sounds good,” Graham says with a nod. “See you on Tuesday then.” 

“Yep,” you give him a quick wave and watch as he ends the video call, not surprised he doesn’t stick around for some chitchat. Graham is a busy man and in the almost seven years you’ve worked together he’s always been like this, always very much straight to the point.  

It’s just you and Franz then, the older man leaning back in his chair and scrutinising you from his home office in Trins. He looks at you with a mischievous smile when he asks, “So-'' he draws out the word, “-how was your summer?”

“Good,” you admit easily enough, but also hoping it will deflect any further questions he might have. Unlike Graham, who is much more guarded, Franz is an open book and expects the same from everyone in the garage, whether it be his drivers or any supporting staff, and so you offer, “Except for the concussion, of course, but I got cleared by the doctor this week so-”

“Back to normal,” Franz offers.

“Back to normal,” you agree with a smile. 

Franz nods, “Good. I’ll see you on Tuesday, yeah?”

‘Yes sir,” you confirm with a nod, knowing this is his way to politely let you know the call is over. It’s ok, you still have to call Pierre and Yuki anyway, so you can remind them of what to say should the press contact them. They’ve already received all the information from you in an email last Thursday but there’s a fifty percent chance they’ve actually read it, so you like to make sure they know what you expect of them. 

When Franz says his goodbyes and ends the call, you lean back in your chair, mentally preparing yourself for the ball of raging energy that is Yuki Tsunoda.

***

Once you’ve logged off you make your way to the kitchen where you find Reyes at the breakfast bar, enjoying a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper. She looks up at you with a smile, “Good morning, mija.” 

“Morning,” you reply, mirroring her smile. After you help yourself to coffee and some breakfast you sit down across from her, not surprised when Piñon sits down next to you, hoping for some treats no doubt. You give him a quick scratch, “Hi buddy.”

“He likes you,” Reyes says as she watches you from across the table. “He doesn’t always, you know?” You must look a little confused because she quickly explains, “With Carlos’ last girlfriend, he didn’t really care, never really went to her for attention but with you it’s different. He seems very-” she searches for the right word, “- attuned to you.” 

You can’t help but smile, taking the paw Piñon offers you in your hand, “Good thing I like him too then.” When you let go you look at Reyes, “Maybe it’s because I’ve first met him when he was just a puppy-”

“No,” Reyes quickly interrupts, shaking her head. “It’s not that, I think. He sees you as part of his pack. Like he knows you belong with Carlos.”

Your heart melts when Piñon lets out a quiet whine, as if he wants you to know he agrees with Reyes, and so you pat your lap and wait until he puts his front paws on your legs before you press a kiss to the side of his head, “Aw, I love you too, buddy.” 

Reyes smiles as she takes a sip of her coffee. She leans back in her chair then, “So, I think the boys will be out for most of the day-” She lets out a sigh, “I don’t understand what it is about golf they like so much but at least it gives us a chance to do something fun with just us two, right?” She waits until you nod before she continues, “I have a friend who has a beauty salon in Canyamel, I could call and see if she can squeeze us in for a massage and facial today?”

“Sounds perfect,” you agree easily enough. 

***

It’s almost five when you finally drive back from Canyamel, feeling more relaxed than you have in a while. Next to you Reyes is quietly singing along to some Spanish song on the radio and not for the first time you wish summer break could have lasted just a little longer. You like being here, not just with Carlos but with his parents as well. It’s so- It’s so easy somehow, like you’ve been a part of their family for years already. Technically you guess you have, after all you first met Carlos and his parents in December of 2014, when they came to Faenza for a factory tour at Toro Rosso.

Max was there for the tour as well but he only brought his father and it wasn’t until the Spa Grand Prix the following season that you first met Sophie and his sister Victoria, taking an immediate liking to the two women in Max’s life. His father was a different story and it took you a while to realise he was all bark and no bite. 

From the moment Carlos Sr. and Jos met each other however there was some serious tension between them, Carlos Sr. being the more calculated of the two while Jos was always much more emotional. Sometimes you’re still surprised Max and Carlos even became friends with their fathers looming over them so much those first few years.

“Where’s your head at?”

You look at Reyes and smile, “Just thinking back to when I first met Carlos, back in Faenza. God, we were so young back then-” 

Reyes lets out a laugh, “You still are.” She puts her hand on your arm then and gives it a gentle squeeze, “This is only the start, mija. Just wait and see.”

***

By the time you make it back to the house Carlos and his dad have returned from the golf course and are enjoying a cold beer on one of the lounge sets on the side of the house. When Carlos sees you his eyes light up and he holds out his free hand to you, “You look amazing, cariño.” 

You give Carlos a kiss before you sit down on his lap, leaning into him when he wraps his arm around your waist, “Thank you. I feel very relaxed." 

“How was golf?” Reyes sits down next to Carlos Sr. and pats his knee, “You boys play nice?” 

“Always,” Carlos Sr. shoots back with a grin that suggests he’s not telling the whole truth. “Right, Carlito?”

“Hmm,” Carlos agrees before taking a sip of his beer. He lets out a heavy sigh then, “Papà won. Twice.” 

“Ai,” you say as you press a kiss to his temple, pouting a little then for some added drama. “You ok, babe?” 

“I’ve been better,” Carlos deadpans, throwing his father a look that you know means he wants a rematch soon. 

Both you and Reyes laugh, Reyes flicking her husband’s arm with her thumb and middle finger, “You need to let him win every now and then, mi amor.” She winks at Carlos then, “Just like he does with chess.” 

Carlos lets out a laugh when he sees his father’s shocked expression but doesn’t say anything, simply raises his beer before he takes another sip, “Cheers, papà.”

Carlos Sr. says something in Spanish that you don’t quite catch but that makes Carlos laugh even harder while Reyes tuts and shakes her head. She turns to her husband then, “Did you guys at least get everything for dinner like I asked you to?”

“Sì, mi vida,” Carlos Sr. answers as he takes Reyes’ hand and brings it to his lips. “Like you asked.”

“Good.” Reyes gets up then and pulls Carlos Sr. with her, “Help me get dinner started?”

“Of course.” Carlos Sr. puts his beer down and follows his wife to the kitchen.

“Dinner at eight?” Reyes suggests from over her shoulder. “The meat needs at least two hours to cook, so-”

“Eight is fine,” Carlos says with a kind smile before he looks at you, “We can take Piñon for a walk in the meantime.” 

***

“Come on,” Carlos holds out his hand to you and helps you down a particularly large rock and onto the sand. He’s taken you to Cala Rotja, one of the few sandy beaches around Cap d’es Pinar and about a thirty-minute walk from the house. Piñon’s already running towards the water, barking excitedly at the waves whenever they roll up on the beach. 

“This is beautiful,” you say to no one in particular as you take your shoes off and enjoy the sand between your toes, the beach empty except for an older man fishing on the rocks further down. The bay is surrounded by large rocks and pine trees and the water is an incredible blue colour that you wish you could capture in a photo. 

“It doesn’t compare to you,” Carlos says from behind you as he wraps his arms around your waist and lets his chin rest on your shoulder.

“Oh, nice one, Sainz,” you tease. “I see why they call you the Smooth Operator.” 

He chuckles and squeezes you closer, foregoing his usual witty comeback for a much sweeter, “I mean it though.” Before you have a chance to say anything he continues, “So I was thinking-”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking his hands so you can turn around and face him. “What were you thinking about?”

“Tomorrow is our last day together, right?” He waits until you nod before he continues, “I want it to be special, just you and me-”

“But you’re parents are here-”

“Ssh,” he puts a finger to your lips and laughs when you pretend to bite it. “I already talked to them, they are fine with it.”

“With what?”

He tuts, “So impatient-” When you raise an eyebrow at him he quickly continues, “I’m not going to tell you everything because it is a surprise. But I need you to pack your things already today so we can leave after breakfast tomorrow and I can drop you off at the airport on Monday.”

“So,” you draw out, “we’re not coming back here?”

“Nope,” he says and kisses your nose. “We’ll have breakfast with mamà and papà tomorrow morning and then we leave. Piñon stays with them, so it’s only you and me, cariño.” 

“Hmm,  you hum again. “I’d like that.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree easily enough as you let your lips ghost over his. “I’d like that very much.”

***

Dinner is another drawn-out affair but still time flies by and before you know it it’s after midnight and Reyes and Carlos Sr. get up to go to bed. You offer to clear the rest of the table together with Carlos and so you find yourself loading the dishwasher not much later. 

“That’s everything,” Carlos says as he hands you the salad bowl and two more wine glasses. He waits until you’ve selected the program, put the tablet in and close the door before he takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom, shutting off the lights in the house as you go along. 

You can’t help but yawn when you step into the bedroom and laugh when Carlos throws you a look, “Sorry, I’m just-” another yawn, “-I’m just tired, I guess.” 

“That’s ok,” he says with a mischievous grin and puts his hands on your hips, “we can make up for that tomorrow.” He leans in then, pressing butterfly kisses all over your face and you feel him smile against your skin.

“Hmm,” you sigh contently, tilting your head back when he moves down from your jaw to your neck. You run your hands through his hair and push yourself against him, “I could probably stay awake a little longer.” 

He chuckles at your suggestion, his warm breath hitting the skin just above your collarbone, and moves his hands to your face and cups your cheeks, making you look at him. Even in the dim light you can see his pupils are blown and so for a moment you think you may have won him over but then he presses a chaste kiss to your lips and shakes his head, “Tomorrow, mi amor.” 

***

“It was really good to see you again, mija,” Reyes says as she smooths down your hair before she lets her hands rest on your shoulders. “We will see you in Monza, ok?”

You nod and pull her in for a hug, “Can’t wait. Thank you, Reyes. For everything.”

“Ah, nonsense,” she replies and shakes her head. She pulls you even closer then and whispers, “No se lo digas a nadie, tú siempre has sido mi favorita.” 

You know enough Spanish to understand what she says and so you can’t help but smile, “Gracias.” 

She lets go of you and takes a step aside, Carlos Sr. stepping forward then. He kisses your cheek before he gives you a hug, “See you soon, sweetheart.”

"See you soon," you reply as you let go of him. 

Carlos is already waiting by the car and so you join him, smiling at him as he holds the door open for you. You hear him tell his parents he'll see them tomorrow before he sits down and looks at you, "Ready?"

You smile and nod, "Ready."

***

He still doesn't want to say where he's taking you, keeps saying you'll find out soon enough and so you sit back and enjoy the drive that takes you from Son Servera to Manacor to Algaida to- "We're going to Palma?"

Next to you Carlos nods, "Yes. I couldn't let you leave without visiting here first."

You sit up in your seat and lean forward a little, taking in the city appearing in front of you as Carlos navigates through the narrow streets with ease before he pulls up to a beautiful building marked 'Es Princep' which turns out to be your hotel for the night.

The room they've assigned you is a suite on the top floor with an amazing sea view and entirely too much space for just the two of you. There's an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne waiting for you on the balcony and even though it's only just after twelve you let Carlos pour you a glass, whispering a quiet, "Thank you," when he hands it to you.

He puts his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your temple before he touches his glass against yours, "Cheers, cariño. To us."

"To us," you echo with a smile.

Carlos lets go of you then and sits down on one of the chairs, patting his lap. Once you've sat down he tells you, "I have made dinner reservations for eight tonight but that's the only thing we've got planned today. We can do whatever you like."

You look at him with one eyebrow raised and can't help but laugh when his eyes darken as you say, "Whatever I like, huh?" You take another sip of your champagne, letting the glass dangle between your fingers then as you lean against him, "I would feel really bad if we came all this way and all I would see was the inside of our hotel room-"

Carlos swallows hard, "Don't forget the restaurant."

"-and the restaurant," you continue with a sigh for some added drama. Reaching out you take his wrist in your hand and look at his watch, "Then again, it is still early-"

You don't even get to finish your sentence because by then Carlos has already taken both your glasses and put them on the table before he picks you up and carries you back inside bridal style.

"Carlos!" You playfully slap his chest, "What are you doing?"

"Making sure we don't lose any more time," he replies, growling almost.

***

"Oh, fuck, right there, baby," you pant as Carlos latches on to your clit with his mouth, his tongue circling around your sensitive bud as he scissors you open with two fingers. Your hands are in his hair, holding him there where you need him most, with your knees pulled up to give him better access. 

He groans against your skin, looking up at you with hooded eyes, and you can just tell from the way his eyes crinkle that he's smiling. He pumps a little faster and watches as you start to come undone, biting down ever so slightly as you hook your feet over his shoulders to pull him even closer.

"Carlos, I'm gonna-" You try to warn him but it's no use, the orgasm that has been building ever since he put his fingers inside of you now washing over you, wave after wave of pure pleasure making you tremble, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let yourself go slack.

His fingers still inside of you but his mouth is still going, helping you get down from your high with the utmost care. Once he's satisfied you're back on earth he kisses the inside of your thigh before he pushes himself up so he can capture your mouth in a kiss.

You're still trying to catch your breath and so your lips are parted and when he slips his tongue inside and licks the inside of your cheek you get to taste yourself and it's filthy and hot and maybe you won't make it out of this hotel room after all because you need him inside of you. Now. You pull back a little, your lips barely touching his when you tell him, "I need you."

He grins against your mouth, his fingers now circling one of your nipples, "Patience, mami." 

"Carlos-" you warn him, taking his lower lip between your teeth and pulling on it slightly. You gently bit down to make your point, "Now."

He seems to get the urgency and starts to push himself off, but you stop him with another kiss.

"I'm on the pill," you try, not sure if he'll agree with what you're suggesting, "and tested. I'm good if you're-"

He curses in Spanish before he pulls back and looks at you, pupils blown wider than you've ever seen, "I'm tested and clean too." He kisses you with a renewed hunger, "You sure?"

"Very," you whisper and let your nails rake over his back as he positions himself. When he looks at you then you nod, "Make me yours."

He does.

It's fast, a need behind his thrusts that leaves you breathless in a matter of seconds. He buries himself deeper and deeper inside of you every single time and it isn't long before you feel your second orgasm coming and you can tell from the way Carlos' moves become more and more deliberate that he isn't far behind. 

"Keep going," you breathe, letting out a loud moan then when he suddenly hits the right spot. "Right there, don't stop, don't-"

"Oh fuck." Carlos is panting now and slows down just enough so he can pull out all the way before he slams back into you again. 

"Almost there, baby," you tell him, sneaking your hand in between your bodies so you can rub your clit. It's then your orgasm hits and you can feel your walls clench around him and fuck, it feel so good. You watch Carlos, know he's right on the edge, and so you put your free hand on his cheek, "Come for me, papi."

***

You make it out of the hotel room eventually, a little self conscious because you're still a bit sore and you feel like everyone can tell what you and Carlos were doing earlier and so you hide behind your sunglasses as you stroll towards the cathedral. It feels almost sinful going in there- After. 

Carlos must feel the same way because when you reach the entrance he hesitates for just a second before he makes the sign of a cross and then steps inside anyway, pulling you along with him.

"Oh, wow." You look up in awe, admiring the way the sun hits the stained glass windows and casts a colourful glow throughout the open space surrounding you. "It's beautiful."

You take your time walking around the church before you stop at a small altar where you light a candle for the people you hold close to your heart. Next to you Carlos does the same and you stand together in silence for a bit, both of you a little lost in thoughts. When he takes your hand in his again not much later you're surprised to find him looking at you with his eyes glossed over and so you lean into him and give his hand a squeeze, "I love you."

He swallows hard and nods but doesn't say it back and for a moment there's this evil little voice inside your head that tells you it's because he doesn't feel the same way, but he presses a kiss to your temple then that makes you believe he does.

Once you're outside again he guides you through the small streets to the town square where you stop for a coffee for him and an ice cream for you. There's an endless stream of people walking by, mostly tourists, and you enjoy watching everyone go about their day, sometimes commenting on something that catches your eye. 

From the town square you slowly loop back towards the sea, stopping at a few cute shops you pass along the way, before you walk back to your hotel over the boardwalk and through a small park. 

It's almost seven when you make it back to your room and so you take a quick shower and get changed into one of the dresses you bought, a colourful maxi dress that you know goes well with the pale blue button down shirt Carlos is wearing, and pairing it with your trusted sandals. You opt for some light makeup and a simple hairstyle, yet Carlos still lets out a low whistle when you step out of the bathroom.

"You look gorgeous," he says with a proud smile and holds out his hand. "Ready to go?"

***

The restaurant he takes you to is only a short walk from the hotel and when you get there you're somehow not surprised to have the chef greet you personally after Carlos has let you know he's a good friend of his father. 

There are only a handful of tables scattered throughout the restaurant, each far enough apart from the other to offer some privacy, but still you're glad to get a table that's almost hidden away in an alcove. The chef introduces himself as Santi and tells you he's prepared a seven course menu just for you and Carlos as he pours you each a glass of champagne and tells you to enjoy your evening.

As always, the conversation between you and Carlos flows effortlessly and at times it feels as though you're the only ones here. He seems a little on edge at times though, but it's probably because the second half of the season is about to start, you decide after Carlos declines a second glass of wine and orders a water instead.

The food is amazing, each course better than the one before and yet the portions are small enough to let you keep your appetite. By the time you've finished the last course it's close to midnight and despite enjoying yourself immensely you can feel your eyes starting to grow tired. 

Carlos seems to pick up on it and reaches over the table for your hand, "We can go back if you like?"

"Hmm," you agree quietly. "I think we should."

"Before we go though," Carlos says and pulls back his hand, reaching for something in the pocket of his jacket that's draped over the back of his chair. He takes out a small, rectangular box and hands it to you, "I have something for you." He looks up at you, "I know you want to wait to tell anyone in the paddock about us but-" he smiles a shy smile, "I just want you to know that you're mine."

You carefully open the box and gasp when you see what's inside, whispering a quiet, "Carlos-"

His smile grows wider and he nods, encouraging you to take it out.

"I love it," you tell him as you take the bracelet he's gotten you out of the box, admiring the charm that's attached to it. It's a chess piece but it isn't until you hold it closer that you see what it is- The King. 

"I have this," Carlos says as he opens up two buttons of his shirt and pulls up a necklace you had no idea he was wearing, showing you the small charm that's hanging from the chain. "So you’re always close to me. My queen.” 

You hold out your hand to him and watch as he puts the bracelet on, the charm unsuspicious enough to not be able to link it to Carlos right away yet holding such a special meaning for you. You watch as it sparkles in the light and smile at Carlos, “Thank you.” 

***

The streets are much quieter on your walk back to the hotel and you enjoy the comfortable silence between you and Carlos, your hand in his as you walk side by side. It’s still warm outside and so once you make it back to your room you step onto the balcony and admire the view of the bay at night. 

Carlos comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. His mouth is close to your ear when he whispers, “I love you.”

“Carlos-” you start, but he squeezes you closer to let you know he’s not done yet.

“I felt so bad for not saying it back to you, earlier but-” he lets his lips ghost over the skin just below your ear, drawing goosebumps, “I do. I think I always have.”

You turn around in his arms and look up at him, “I love you.” You stand up on your toes then and kiss him, gently at first but it quickly turns into something more heated, a need behind it that you know he understands when he starts walking you back inside the room. 

He keeps kissing you, his tongue finding its way inside your mouth, the taste of the chocolate dessert still lingering. Your hands find their way to his shirt and you slowly start to undo the buttons before you push it off and let your fingers dance over his skin. You find the necklace then and pull away so you can press a kiss to where it’s hanging on his chest, muttering a quiet, “My king,” that makes him groan. 

Carlos cups your face and brings you back up to meet him and there’s a hunger in his eyes that you’ve seen before and can’t wait to satisfy. He places small open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw and further down to your throat and collarbone, sometimes sucking and biting on your skin before running his tongue over it to stop it from hurting. 

You throw your head back to give him better access and moan when he cups one of your breasts over your dress, his thumb rubbing over the fabric creating a wonderful sensation. “Carlos,” you breathe, not sure what you’re trying to tell him because you don’t want him to stop but you know you don’t want him to linger either.

“I want to try something,” he says against your skin. “Do you trust me?”

You nod, words momentarily evading you at the promise of- Something. 

He pulls back then and takes your hand, pulling you along with him to the ensuite bathroom. He stops in front of the double sink and stands behind you, catching your eye in the large mirror that covers the entire wall. Hooking his fingers under the straps of your dress he slowly slides them down and starts kissing your shoulder, still looking at you.

When the fabric falls to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your panties, it sends a shiver down your spine and you lean back against Carlos with a heavy sigh. 

“I want to watch you watch yourself come undone,” Carlos says, his voice low and a little dangerous. “Want you to see what I can do to you.”

Your throat goes dry but you can feel yourself grow even wetter at his words and so you nod in response.

“I need to hear you say it,” he whispers, both hands now cupping your breasts. “Do you want to come undone? Do you want to watch yourself as I make you mine?”

“Yes,” you breathe. Then, because you know what he wants to hear, “Yes, papi.” 

***

He’s got you bend over the sink, the porcelain cold against your hot skin, and you watch him in the mirror as he drives himself into you. He’s taking his time, going much slower than earlier today, but he hits your sweet spot on every single thrust and you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead, locking eyes with him. “I’m almost-” A moan then when he bottoms out again, “Fuck.” 

Carlos bends over and places a kiss between your shoulder blades, “I’m right there with you.” He picks up the pace ever so slightly, his breathing becoming a little more laboured as he holds onto your hips for leverage. 

“Yes! God yes,” you scream, feeling the pressure build inside of you, your orgasm ready to explode and fully engulf you. Without thinking you close your eyes and immediately Carlos reacts, one hand under your chin to make you look up.

“Open your eyes,” he says, the tone of his voice letting you know it’s not a question and so you comply immediately. “Good girl,” he praises and as a reward he sneaks one hand down to your clit, where he presses down his thumb. 

You let out a whimper, “Please.”

His thrusts become more irregular and you know it’s because he’s chasing his own orgasm as much as you're chasing yours. His pupils are fully blown now and there’s a sheen of sweat on his face, his hair no longer as carefully coiffed as it was ten minutes ago and God, he looks absolutely spent and more beautiful than ever. He grins at you through the mirror, that wicked smile that you love so much, “Come for me, mami.” 

You do.

He groans on the final few thrusts but then he stills inside of you and you can feel him coating your walls with his release. He’s muttering something in Spanish that you don’t quite catch but seem to understand all the same as he puts one arm around your stomach and pulls you up and against him. His other hand moves to your throat where he curls his fingers around it gently, his thumb tilting your chin up. He puts his mouth to your ear, “You see that?”

You lock eyes with him in the mirror, see how he’s panting, how completely blissed out both of you look, and so you nod, a satisfied smile tugging on the corners of your mouth.

“We did that, my love.” Something changes then in the way he looks at you, a softness falling over him as he turns your head towards him and kisses you, “My queen.”

***

All too soon it’s Monday morning and Carlos is driving you to the airport for your flight to Bologna, the silence filling the car a little more charged this time. When he pulls up at the departure terminal he looks at you and shrugs apologetically, “It’s only for a few days, cariño. I’ll see you again on Wednesday, no?”

“I know,” you agree easily enough. “I just wish we could stay here for a little longer.”

Carlos chuckles, “That would only make it harder to get back into the real world, I think.” He reaches for your hand then and presses a kiss to the back of your hand, “We’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” you say as you turn towards him and cup his face. “We will be.” You lean in then and give him a kiss before you tell him, “I was thinking about telling Max about us this weekend. And once Max knows-”

“I can tell the world that you’re mine,” he finishes with a grin. Another kiss then, deeper and more intense, like he wants you to remember him, like he’s worried you’ll forget what it feels like. 

When you pull back you smile at him, “Can’t wait.” 

=== 

Notes No se lo digas a nadie, tú siempre has sido mi favorita. = Don’t tell anyone but you’re my favourite (at least, that’s what I hope it translates to...)

Taglist:  @shes-homeward-bound | @chiogarza | @oyesmendes | @thatchickwiththecamera | @sanne-p | @your-favourite-blonde | @internetgremlin | @watermel0nsugarhigh | @fictional-l0v3r | @nochillnel | @dr3lover | @dan3avacado | @idkiwantchocolatee | @nicke0115 | @desperate-and-broken | @iamasimpingh0e | @guardians-ofthe-lastyoungkilljoy​ | @vroomvroommbtch

[meetmyothersouls]

Back to you 7 here:

here we are!

Back to You

Jonah Hauer-King x first person reader

Warnings: Angst, anxiety, nightmare/night terrors, not proof read

Chapter 7

I can focus on nothing but two things: the kiss Jonah and I shared earlier today and how tingly it made me feel inside. How it made my stomach quite literally flip. And the whole one bed debacle. Jonah quickly changed the subject once I was made aware of the situation, likely because it's not something that had to be dealt with right away, but for me, it's overpowering even the lovely dinner Jonah has taken me to.

I'm picking at my food, lost in thought. Jonah has said a few things, though I haven't paid much attention to them. I've smiled politely and nodded to cover my contribution to the conversation, but I have to admit I haven't been much of an active part of it. If this bothers Jonah, he doesn't let on. I roll a ravioli over before stabbing it and shoving it into my mouth. I should let him take the bed, right? I mean, he can't possibly sleep anywhere else. I scanned the room quickly before we came down to the hotel's quaint restaurant. I made note that there was no sofa, or futon or even a recliner. Just a bed. It'd be rude for me to assume that I'd get the bed automatically, but I have a feeling he'll suggest it. And even though I feel like Jonah's charms are starting to win me over, I still hope he doesn't assume that he'll hop into the same bed with me and sleep. I'm not there yet...I'm not at the place where I can feel his body up against mine for the entire night. Or wake up with his hand draped over my hip and my face pressed into his neck as I'm breathing his scent in with each sleepy inhale.

A loud clatter snaps me out of my thoughts, and I realize I let my fork slip out of my hands.

"You okay?" Jonah asks.

"Oh, yeah," I groan as I bend down to pick up my fork. I won't be using that anymore. I push my plate across the table a bit, a silent indication that I'm done with the food. "I'm just tired," I find myself admitting. I dread the words as soon as they come out. I really am tired, but I almost would like to put off going to bed as long as possible.

"I'm tired too," Jonah says as he stands. "Let's get to bed, I'd like to leave early in the morning so we can get to the cabin before nightfall tomorrow."

Maybe I won't sleep tonight. I'll stay up the whole night reading a book or something, and I'll sleep the rest of the car ride. We walk back up the fairytale like staircase, and Jonah lets us into the room. I step inside and I can practically feel my heart beating in my chest.

"I can get another room," Jonah says abruptly.

"What?" I spin around to look at him.

"You're nervous."

"No I'm not," I lie.

"You are, I can tell. You were pretty distracted at dinner and right now you're biting your nails like you always do when you're nervous."

I notice my finger in my mouth as soon as he says it. I quickly with draw it and Jonah's already turned around making his way to the door.

"No, no don't leave. I could never ask you to get another room, Jonah, don't be silly."

"I don't want you to be uncomfortable, y/n. You're never going to find your way back to me if you're in a constant state of stress and anxiety. This, whole thing is too much for you. I should have known. This was a terrible idea. I'm sorry, we'll go back tomorrow," Jonah says. He won't even make eye contact with me.

Jonah's hand is on the doorknob when I stop him. My hand is on his shoulder, and I feel him relax under my touch. I squeeze his shoulder gently and he turns around. He backs up until his back is flush with the wood of the door. He sighs loudly and gently thumps the back of his head against the door.

"Don't leave me," I whisper. "I'm nervous, about a lot of things. Yes. But that doesn't mean I want you to leave or get a new room. I want you here with me. Please don't leave."

Jonah is silent for a moment until he sighs again. "I'm sorry, y/n. I just..." he looks at me, his eyes bouncing back and forth between both of mine. I can tell he's feeling a thousand things at once right now, but can't or doesn't want to say them all, so all he says is, "I'm sorry."

I smile up at him. "There's nothing to forgive."

Then were silent. I want to hug him, but I'm unsure if that's a weird move. I don't want this night in this hotel to be anything that could give him the wrong idea. I'm attracted to him, but do I want a sexual relationship with him right now? I'm not sure that would be such a good idea. Not while I'm still trying to figure things out. Jonah is looking down at me and I can tell he's likely going through the same thought process as I am.

He clears his throat and says, "Right, so I guess we should sleep."

"Yeah, I guess so," I say, backing away from him like I wasn't just thinking about his body again.

I'm about to finally ask what this sleeping situation is going to look like when Jonah crosses the room to a corner close. He pulls out an extra pillow and a few blankets and plops them on the floor. I'm watching his every move, waiting for him to say something. He finally sees me watching and says, "No sofa, so I'll take the floor."

Instantly I feel like a massive weight as been lifted off of me. And even though there's relief, I can't help but feel bad. "No, you can't sleep on the floor. Take the bed, I can take the floor."

"You're joking?"

I shake my head.

"Y/n, I'm not letting you sleep on the floor when there's a perfectly good bed for you right here, look-" Jonah walks over and pulls the covers out and fluffs the pillow up. "Already for you."

"I can sleep on the floor, Jonah. You have to drive all day tomorrow, that wouldn't be fair."

Jonah lays out his blankets and puts his pillow against the dresser beside the bed. He lays down quite uncomfortably on the floor. "Sorry I couldn't hear you, I'm about to go to sleep."

"But-"

"Goodniiiiight," Jonah calls out before pulling the chain on the lamp.

I roll my eyes and semi-reluctantly get into the bed.

Jonah's POV

I'll do anything for Y/N, but I have to admit, this floor is probably the most uncomfortable floor I have ever slept on. I'm in and out of sleep for what feels like hours, but it's only been two. Y/n fell asleep almost instantly, and even though she's taken the bed, it doesn't look as if she's getting a good night's rest. Every now and then she'll groan in her sleep. She's almost constantly moving as if she can't get comfortable. I fight every urge I have to get up and hold her, to keep her still so she can rest comfortably.

I finally turn around on the floor and manage to get comfortable enough to doze off, but it doesn't last long. Y/n's blanket falls to the floor then she's screaming and thrashing about in her bed. I've seen her do this before. Many times before. Normally, I brush her hair out of her face, I hold her and calm her down with the pressure of my arms around her and my voice telling her she's okay and I love her. That I'd never let anything happen to her. But is that too much for her right now? If he wakes up from this night terror and sees me in bed with her, will she freak out? Will it erase every ounce of progress I've made with her so far.

Her back arches on the bed and she's crying. I can't let her suffer any longer for fear of her injuring herself. I climb over her on the bed. She shakes her head moving back and forth as if the movement will erase the terrible dream she must be having. I turn her towards me and pull her close. She shakes against me, still crying. She's sweaty from all of the thrashing she's been doing, her cheeks wet from her tears. I pull her damp hair off of her face and run my hand down the back of her head.

"Shhhh, my love, it's okay. You're okay. I've got you," I whisper. "I've got you, darling."

I feel her relax almost instantly. Her breaths are quick like a small child after a hard cry. The shaking and thrashing stops. I catch myself giving her small kisses to the top of her head and I don't have the will to stop. I can't tell if she's awake, but she holds me tighter. She laces a leg through mine and head fits perfectly in the crook of my neck. I run my hands down her back, one of her favorite ways I put her to sleep when she needs it. I love her so much I don't want to move from this bed. I'd stay here forever if it meant getting to hold her.

My soothing movements on her back get slower and slower until I find myself falling asleep. I know it's a bad idea, but this is my happy place, and I haven't rested peacefully since I've been away.

It's 04:15 when I wake up. Y/n is still tucked perfectly against my body. She's sleeping soundly and her breaths against my neck give me purpose. As ideal as this is, I should probably move before she wakes up. It was clear that she needed me earlier in the night, but she might not even remember it. Gently, I unwrap her arm from my waist and slide her leg out from under mine. I sit up and just as I'm about to lift myself off the bed, she grabs my hand.

"Don't go," she says, her voice barely a sleepy whisper. "Stay in bed with me."

God, I want to. I want nothing more. But half-asleep Y/n might differently than the y/n that'll be fully awake in a few hours.

"Go back to sleep, love," I force out.

She groans and turns back over. I smile and reluctantly crawl back onto the floor. I'm not sure if going back to sleep is still in the picture for me, but I know Y/n won't be up for a few more hours, especially after the episode she had earlier and-

My thoughts are cut off when I hear Y/n's footsteps on the hard floor. She walks around me and places herself on the floor next to me. Her back presses against my chest and stomach. I smell the vanilla and lilac shampoo in her hair. And her skin. God her skin. My hand instinctively wraps around her waist, and I pull her into me. I feel her ass press against me and pray that my body doesn't give away how badly I want her. Need her.

She's back asleep almost instantly. And this time I can't convince myself that sleeping with her like this is something she'll be mad about later. I listen to her breathing; how steady it is when she's sleeping next to me. They're hypnotizing and soothing. It's the perfectly lullaby.

And then I'm asleep. With her.

Tags: @danielabetancourth @luna2034 @wandamaximoffbae @twinkledinkleg-blog @justagirlwholovedtoread @nonsensical-nonsence @paramorelvrr @thedonswife13 @miniemonie2001 1 @jonahhauer-kingg

[sterekbros]

wild and free by Winchesterek

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles asked, looking out at the beautiful waterfalls cascading into the lake in front of them.

The water shimmered shades of green and blue, which looked like emeralds and malachite glistening in the sun. The spray of the waterfall floated through the air, a cool mist clinging to their skin, making Stiles feel sticky. It looked wild and overgrown, the foliage lush and leafy, clinging to the rocks around them.

When he looked back at Derek, his skin was slick with sweat and water, making Stiles want to lick and suck his salty skin. Derek turned to smile at him and it warmed Stiles’ heart, loving how happy Derek looked.

“Just one of the most beautiful places in Croatia, Plitvice Lakes,” Derek replied, reaching out to take Sitles’ hand. “Come on. We can make it down to the water and enjoy it for a little while before we have to head back.”

“Well, we can't stay because I didn't bring my pillow,” Stiles added with a chuckle. “You know I can't sleep without it.”

“Good thing I don't plan on camping out here, then. I know I can make sure that we don't get caught, but I wanna take you somewhere nice for dinner. It’ll take us about two hours to get back to the city so we should leave before the sun goes down.”

“Good thing we got here bright and early, then.” Stiles walked along with Derek carefully and descended along the path to the water, slowly climbing over slippery rocks.

Stiles wasn't sure if this was the beautifulest place he’d ever seen, because they’d been to so many places that were so beautiful that Stiles had a hard time believing that they were real. Like Elafonisi Beach, where they’d spent a week exploring Greece and bathing in the sun. Derek’s skin was beautiful and sunkissed, while Stiles looked a little bit like a lobster for a week afterward until it turned into a light tan.

Once they were down to the water, Stiles grinned as he watched Derek strip his shirt off and toss it onto the ground on top of their bags. He openly ogled his mate, knowing that Derek could scent his arousal and he smirked as Derek unnecessarily flexed for him, but acted like it was a casual action.

Stiles stripped down to his swim shorts and carefully walked across the rocks to the bank next to Derek. “Wow…the water is so clear.”

It was unimaginable to Stiles that water could be so clear, but they’d seen oceans just as clear when they sailed around the world together. “Oh, look! Fish!” Stiles pointed and Derek smiled.

“I’m sure they’ll leave us alone when we’re in the water. Come on, let’s get in!” Derek waded into the lake first while Stiles watched him skeptically.

“There isn't anything in there that will eat me, is there?” Stiles tried to look further into the water, but it was too far away for him to see much with his puny human eyesight.

“Nothing’s going to eat you, Stiles. I’ll protect you.” Derek dipped his head back into the water and ran his hands through his hair when he was upright again. “Get in here!”

“How are you sure?! You can't see all the way over there!” Stiles said, pointing.

“Really? Get in the water, Stiles. This isn't even salt water. There are no large predators in the water here,” Derek promised with an amused look, sighing. “Get in the water! You’re more likely to run into a bear out there than anything happening to you in here. Or step on a snake.”

Stiles looked around the forest and the ground before hurrying into the water. “Why didn't you tell me there were bears! I don't even have anything to protect myself with.”

Derek laughed, wrapping his arms around Stiles when he reached him. “You have me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”

“You better not,” Stiles replied, wrapping his arms around Derek and drawing him in close. “Because then you’re gonna be all alone on that sailboat. What on earth would you do without me?”

“Regret all my life choices,” Derek joked, but Stiles could tell that he was being serious. “You know I couldn't go on without you. If it’s the last thing I do, it’ll always be to protect you.”

“You know I feel the same way, Derek.” Stiles' voice was soft and almost a whisper, his hand moving to cup Derek’s cheek.

The last thing he wanted to do was make Derek think about losing him. It was why he’d left with Derek to begin with, because of his injury on the job. Unfortunately, Stiles’ brain-to-mouth filter didn't always work.

And Stiles knew that he was Derek’s anchor, just as much as Derek was Stiles’. Or, well, if he was a werewolf. As much as an anchor that Derek could be for Stiles being human.

“We’ll be okay,” Derek promised, kissing Stiles tenderly. “I’ll race you to the other side,” Derek added when they parted, then laughed and dunked Stiles under the water before taking off.

Stiles sputtered as he came up, shaking the water from his face.

“Not! Fair!” Stiles shouted after Derek. “And you can't use your werewolf speed!”

But Derek was almost already at the other end of the small lake as Stiles ran his hands through his hair.

He smiled, the hot sun shining down on them and warming his skin, the cool clear water rippling around him.

This was their life. Traveling the world and being together.

It was all that Stiles ever wanted, just him and Derek and a world full of possibilities.

He dove into the water, knowing that he’d never win or catch up to Derek. But Stiles was perfectly fine with that because Derek would make it up to him later, sprawled out in the sailboat cabin, taking him apart until Stiles couldn't feel his toes and he was warm all over.

Croatia was going to become one of his favorite places in the world, full of memories.

Of him and Derek. Happy and free.

[ceapa-mica]

Thrawn's Proposal 💍 - a headcanon

I can't stop myself when it comes to this man help

I have been very busy thinking this through and writing it down, and here it is - the engagement headcanon I promised you guys! 😘

Enjoy!

🔞 NSFW content 18+ only! 🔞

Reader's gender is not mentioned.

So you made a certain Grand Admiral fall for you and have established a relationship? You're doing amazing, sweetie!

I bet you can guess what the next step in your relationship is. (Who am I kidding, it's literally in the title)

The moment Thrawn knew was when he discovered a painting you had made that you kept from him. Whether you're a good artist or not doesn't matter, to Thrawn every painting is worth looking at. And seeing a sketch of him made by you made his heart swell.

He analyzes art unlike anyone else. To him this drawing was a visualization of your feelings for him. Your unwavering loyalty, your keen mind, and all the little quirks to your character he has fallen in love with. On top of that you’re the most stunning person he's ever laid his crimson eyes on.

It was at that moment he looked at your painting that he knew he wants you by his side for the rest of his life - and he hopes you want the same.

He has gifted you jewelry before, but an engagement is something else entirely. In his culture engagement and marriage are taken very seriously and he knows he can't just give you an ordinary ring from some Coruscanti high-end shop.

No, you deserve better. You're not getting engaged to anyone, you're getting engaged to Mitth’raw’nuruodo of the Chiss Ascendancy and Grand Admiral of the Galactic Empire. An ordinary ring won't do!

He contacts his people and explains the situation. It takes a while, but when he receives the ring he looks at it with a satisfied smile. It's so unique, just like you!

During your relationship you have learned to read Thrawn. He may keep up a stoic facade most of the time, but you have started to notice little changes, like the way he pronounces words or the varying brightness of his glowing eyes. You think even Eli Vanto can't read Thrawn that well.

The night he wants to propose to you he takes you to a city on a planet you've never heard of. It's late in the evening and you can tell from his stiffer than usual posture that he's nervous.

You're worried, ask him if he's alright and he simply nods. He's a bit absent-minded too, you notice.

You finish your dinner and afterwards go for a walk in the warm air of what you assume must be early summer or late spring.

Away from prying eyes he removes his green shade sunglasses and takes your hand in his.

Your walk takes you to a park, away from busy speeder lanes. You have some easy conversation, but you can't help but notice how tense he still is. You think you might have to help him relax in his quarters when you're back on the Chimera.

To anyone else you two would look like a cute civilian couple enjoying a walk in the moonlight.

Some of the flowers on this world bloom at night, spreading a silvery light along with the lanterns lighting the paths. You think this particular lighting makes Thrawn look ethereal.

The scent of the flowers lingers in the air, the safe feeling of his hand in yours makes your heart flutter in bliss and the soft waves breaking on the shore of the lake mixed with the occasional sound of nocturnal birds has something so fundamentally peaceful.

Distracted by your beautiful surroundings you don't realize at first when Thrawn lets go of your hand, takes a small black box out of his pocket and drops to one knee in front of you.

You're taken by surprise, the look in his eyes shows a vulnerability you have never seen before.

He pops the question in the most charismatic way possible. I mean, what did you expect? He makes it clear that he intends to spend every day of the rest of his life with you. The choice is yours.

You see the stiffness leave his shoulders when you tell him ‘Yes!’

He puts the ring on your finger. The gem, not too big, looks unlike anything you've ever seen. In the light of the lantern it looks dark blue with swirls on the inside of the crystalline stone that reflect the silver light.

When you ask him about it, he explains that this rare mineral can only be found in the depths of his homeworld’s glaciers. It's very expensive, even within the Ascendency, and is used as a symbol of status in Chiss society.

He kisses you deeply when you shed a tear or two of joy, the scent of the flowers mingling with Thrawn's own crisp musky scent.

His lips wander from yours down to your neck, but since you're in public he doesn't go much further.

You wait with that until you're back aboard the Chimera where he carries you to his bed and takes you exactly the way you want him to.

He makes sure you cum at least five times that night - on his mouth, on his fingers and on his cock.

He doesn't require much sleep and could last all night, but he knows after a day of work and a very special evening you must be very tired.

This is one of the rare instances where he gives you the next day off. For one, because you deserve to sleep in after the first night being the Grand Admiral’s fiance, second because after he fucked your tight heat for hours and hours you visibly walk funny, and Thrawn is not a fan of the gossip about his private life that makes its rounds among his crew.

Decisions would have to be made. Would you continue your service to the Empire as his wife-to-be?

All he knows is that he wants you by his side. It's where you are safest and also where you want to be.

No matter how much he dislikes the gossip about his private life, he will eventually have to tell the crew about his engagement.

When he does announce it, he does it with you by his side, holding his hand. Another step you take together.

Let's just say that nobody is surprised about your engagement. So many crew members you know from the bridge congratulate you, even officers and troopers you have never talked to congratulate you in passing.

Your future with Thrawn looks bright. While planning a wedding is extra stressful with a workaholic like Thrawn as fiance, both of you manage that together too.

Thrawn lets your contract with the Imperial Navy end the day before your wedding.

In the Imperial Navy you can't work for your own husband, it would be a conflict of interest and neither of you want you reassigned to some other ship, away from each other.

You can search for different ways to earn credits after your wedding though. In fact, Thrawn encourages you to find work for yourself that you find joy in.

Being engaged to Thrawn is the happiest you have ever been so far. You're excited, well fucked, and feel a sense of belonging you have never known. If you believe in soulmates, then you believe that you have found exactly that in Thrawn.

Well that was fun to write! Thank you guys so much for liking my work! 💙 Next up will be ✨the wedding✨ headcanon.

[dracoxmalereader]

Silver "I"

Context: Fifth chapter of my older ravenclaw reader story. Takes place still during Umbridge's time at Hogwarts, still before she becomes headmistress, but at this point she's already getting super desperate to catch whatever Harry and the rest of thems has going on.

All chapters/parts together can be found on Wattpad and Ao3

Summary: Draco can't help but listen in on Crabbe and Goyle's gossiping about Umbridge using the cruciatus curse on students. Though, it is quite suspicious that the student in question is a sixth year ravenclaw, just like certain someone he knows...

Word Count: 879

The great hall hadn’t been the same in Dumbledore’s absence. The room once echoing with lively chatter had fallen mute, gradually being hacked to only dull whispers from those brave enough. The tables grew more sparse by the day, students opting to retire early to the common rooms or kill time elsewhere.

Even Draco had to admit it was a bummer, the silver “I” pinned to his robes growing duller with every boring meal he sat through. The hallways of the castle were lifeless, extravagant walls plagued with educational decrees.

Dinner was definitely the worst of all three meals, Draco decided. He picked at the food in front of him, zoned out to the background noise of his lackey’s hushed back-and-forth from either side of him. The large windows were dark, light of the hall reflecting off them and giving him little to get lost in.

“Really?” Crabbe was barely legible through his mouthful of food, but the draw of entertainment pulled Draco from his trance. Pansy Parkinson took her seat across from the trio, smoothing a wrinkle in her uniform skirt.

“I was there,” Goyle’s face held an ugly grin, smugness oozing from it. He continued, “I was the one that ratted him out, watched her do it myself.”

“Watched who do what?” Pansy leaned towards them, joining in on the conversation.

“Umbridge used the cruciatus curse on a sixth year-” Crabbe started. Draco hissed like he’d been burned.

“Gossip is heavily discouraged.” He scowled at Goyle before turning back to Crabbe. “And one must not tell lies, unless you’ve forgotten.”

Draco’s skin crawled at the mention of the curse, but he was not about to let his stupid goons mess up their positions in the Inquisitorial Squad because they had to run their mouths.

Crabbe chewed at him, swallowing heavily and licking his lips obnoxiously before responding. “I thought you two were friends though?”

Draco’s brows drew tight in confusion, anxiety blooming behind his ribs. How many sixth years was he friends with? He tried to reassure himself.

Goyle chuckled meanly, rude and teasing. “I thought he’d’ve told you first, you know how chatty those ravenclaws are.”

“Yeah, always yapping about something. Probably too scared to get on Draco’s bad side.” Crabbe snickered dumbly in return. He mocked, “One must not tell lies!”

Stomach churning, Draco suddenly found it hard to sit still. His lungs drew tight. His head was swimming with you, the thought of your blinking eyelashes not failing to make his heart beat faster even as concern clawed against the back of his throat. He felt his palms grow clammy.

He rolled his eyes and sneered. “What ravenclaw?”

“The one he ditched us for on the train last year?” Pansy bounced off his question. Draco’s blood felt like ice water in his veins and he held his breath at your blunt inclusion. He hoped neither inquiry would be answered.

“Yeah, that one.” Goyle confirmed. Draco felt sick. “Heard he’d been out by the greenhouses after hours, took fifty points from ravenclaw and went to Umbridge.”

Bile crept up Draco’s throat; the back of his tongue burned. The silver “I” on his robes felt like it weighed a thousand kilos. It felt like a dark mark. Shame bubbled in his chest. 

The power that came with his position in the Squad suddenly didn't feel worth it. He felt a little like a monster.

“Suspicious and outlawed activity, it’s no wonder she thought he was working with Dumbledore.” Goyle’s voice was grating, and Draco couldn’t shake the overwhelming image of you being tortured over something as ridiculous as watering plants.

His eyes felt like they were about to melt. Pansy eyed him suspiciously across the table, and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“You alright, Draco?”

Goyle’s incessant laughter rang in his ears. “Probably upset I caught that stupid ravenclaw first-” Draco pushed out of his seat. He loomed over Goyle, breath coming out shaky, and his fingers trembled.

“Shut your fat mouth, Goyle.” His lips drew up at the sides in anger. The orange glow from the candles in the air felt blinding, his face went hot.

Draco wanted to punch Goyle in the nose, wanted to rip the silver “I” off his robes and throw it at Crabbe so hard it bruised. He shook his head, taking another, equally ragged breath to compose himself.

“You and your stupid rumors.” His voice was a growl, louder than was acceptable by educational decree, but Draco didn’t care.

His gaze turned to Pansy. She looked at him with a brow pulled up, concern and confusion on her face. He scoffed and turned away, jaggedly swaying from side to side as he stormed off down and out of the great hall.

“What’s got his robes in a knot today?” Goyle wore an offended expression.

Pansy opened her mouth, silent for a moment before speaking. “You think they’re…?” She trailed off at the end of the sentence, eyes pointing in the direction Draco had left and raising her brows at Crabbe and Goyle in suggestion.

The two boys stared quietly at her, expressions blank. Crabbe leaned forwards, tilting his head at her. “Think they’re what?”

She rolled her eyes, turning to the food on the table. “Nevermind.”

Pansy knows and honestly idk if that's a good or a bad thing yet. I should probably have the story more planned out by now because I'm 5 chapters into it but nope. Just winging it. Also I'm leaving it up to interpretation whether or not the reader actually got crucio'd because honestly while Umbridge would do that, Goyle would totally lie about it to sound cool. That's a headcanon but I've fully accepted it as fact.

I know Crabbe is supposed to be one of the brainless evil death eater goons but I wish he had more character exploration because honestly out of all the slytherins he's my second favorite after Draco 😭 You may not have much to go off of Crabbe, but you're forever an airheaded himbo softie in my HEART. Crabbe deserved a character arc I won't be taking critique on that (factual) opinion.

Tags: @nowayisthistakenyet @gayaristocrat @dracoshusband @hyperactivepest @esperfraud

[j4m3s-b4k3r]

MONKEYBONE

Here are some pre-production drawings done for MONKEYBONE, a film directed by Henry Selick. I worked on the film very briefly, perhaps only a week or two, helping with story beat boards. It was a fun gig, in part due to the location in The Presidio.

Nowadays The Presidio is one of the jewels of San Francisco - a truly beautiful parkland for residents to play in - but when I first arrived in San Francisco, it was still a functioning military base. It was already known that it would soon close, however. So discussion about what was next for the site bubbled for the first few years that I lived here. Would it become low income housing? Or yet another swanky property development, as seemed likely. Who else but big money could pay for the cleanup required after the military had left so many toxic cooties (asbestos etc) behind? 

Anyway, while such things were being decided, some of the abandoned buildings would be rented out for short term projects, one being an animated/live action comedy, that was in pre-production circa 1998 (adapted from a graphic novel - DARKTOWN  by Kaja Blackley & Vanessa Chong). I worked on MONKEYBONE in the early, eager, happy, anything-is-possible phase. It may have been so early that our work was merely a proposal, before a ‘green light’. 

Henry himself was in a great spirits, now that he was out of the shadow of Tim Burton, and Chris Columbus was his exec producer. Many of the crew were Henry’s old cronies from Nightmare Before Christmas, such as production designer Bill Boes. He’d already built models of some of the sets & locations, and these were great reference. With a tiny lipstick camera we could shoot the models from all kinds of angles, and this was enormously helpful, allowing myself & Lawrence Marvitt to bang out panels relatively quickly, under the guidance of Mike Cachuela.

Many things had not yet been decided on, such as casting. The protagonist in my sketches here was based on Nicolas Cage, but of course Brendan Fraser got the role of of Stu. Other roles were played by Rose McGowan, Dave Foley, Bob Odenkirk, John Turturro, Whoopi Goldberg, Chris Kattan and even Breaking Bad’s Giancarlo Esposito. The final film really had an amazing cast.

The Presidio was not yet full of dining options, but our workspace wasn’t far from the Presidio gates, where we’d have lunch at Liverpool Lil’s, a great little pub (that has recently burned down, sadly). I also remember a really fun swanky dinner (I forget now where) with the entire tiny pre-pro crew, where Henry was in a jovial mood and writer Sam Hamm was too. Both hilariously regaling us with their Hollywood horror stories (and comparing their scars inflicted by Tim Burton). Best of all, someone else picked up the exorbitant check! (I think it was Sam Hamm?)

Years after my brief stint on MONKEYBONE I got an invite to a preview screening in early 2001. The film was madcap, weird, & even disturbing at times. Much of what I’d thought would be animated was actually handled with costumed humans in the final film, surprisingly. But it was exciting to have worked on a feature film that actually got made. This was a period where I worked on many great projects that collapsed before making it to the screen. I remember enjoying it until the very end, when I saw that I hadn't got a credit (I hadn't worked on it long enough apparently). In the lobby after the screening, there were a lot of concerned/worried/disappointed faces. Whereas I was bummed that my name was was not in the credits, many people seemed unhappy that their names were.

Ha ha!

Sure enough, the film was a financial & critical flop and has low score to this very day (despite a tiny subset of viewers who still love it, and look back on it fondly). I learned that there had been much tussling along the way to the screen. Perhaps the guy who'd done Home Alone was not the right choice to ‘mentor’ Henry? Did things go sideways after Rupert Murdoch fired Bill Mechanic? Or was it merely typical studio meddling? My guess is it was another case of AOTA: all of the above.

Henry himself sums up MONKEYBONE this way:

"I have two thoughts: it never would have been a big hit. It certainly would have done better if they advertised it a little... I would still like to do a Director's Cut because there's a lot of cool stuff that was removed... my main lesson learned is, I don't really do well in the live-action universe... I love my world of stop-motion... I went down a slippery slope to make Monkeybone, but the film that came out it's not my vision of what the film could've been, and I just don't thrive in that.”

Not long after I worked there, the fate of The Presidio was finally decided when George Lucas’ proposal to develop The Letterman hospital into a media centre was accepted in 1999. And it became the mixed-use space SF residents play in today.

----

Just last weekend, we spent a day in The Presidio, enjoying its restaurants & bars and exploring the new Tunnel Tops park. As we strolled around, I tried to figure out which of The Presidio's many buildings we worked in in 1998, but couldn't pin it down (of course, the Letterman hospital complex was levelled to build what became ILM/Lucasfilm, so perhaps the buildings we worked in are gone).