#and we've been hit very hard with that so now I'm trying to get our brain to chill out a little bit

[thethingything]

I have tasks to do but no our brain's too focused on being painfully nostalgic and I also keep getting the vibe that the stuff we got upset about last night is gonna come up again and like, okay yeah I need to process some emotions apparently but can I at least get something done while that happens...

[wolverigrl]

Rumors

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

Warnings: smut! Only 18+!, swearing, angsty, fluffy

!Disclaimer! If you'd like to skip the smut, scroll down as soon as you see "---" in the text. From there, the smut part begins and ends at the next "---"!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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It's been five months. Five months since our first date, and yet somehow, it feels like both forever and no time at all.

I sit here now, in the gym, watching him lift weights like it’s nothing, and I’m struck by just how lucky I feel. From the very beginning, it was like we found our rhythm without even trying - our relationship is built on mutual respect and trust. We give each other space when needed, and t's refreshing to be with someone who values independence as much as I do.

The dates we've had so far have been perfect in their own way. Our second one was at this hidden gem of a restaurant tucked away in the city. I remember how he laughed when I spilled wine on the tablecloth, and how his hand brushed mine as we reached for the same napkin. We've done simple things too, like grabbing coffee early in the morning or working out. Once, we spent an afternoon at an old bookstore, getting lost in the aisles of dusty novels and sharing passages that made us laugh. Every moment with him feels like a memory in the making

And yet, it all changed a little last month when we were spotted. We hadn't been careful enough. A quick kiss in a park, something so innocent, but the paparazzi caught us. The next day, our picture was splashed across every tabloid and social media. That unintentional confirmation of our relationship wasn't what we had planned. Neither of us wanted the world in on our private lives.

Still, we've dodged every question thrown at us in interviews or on social media. But avoiding the questions doesn't stop the criticism.

The age gap. It's what everyone seems to latch onto. Hugh's used to it - He’s been doing this long enough to know how to handle the press, the rumors, the gossip. But me? I’m still learning how to deal with it. I try to act like it doesn't bother me. I nod along, tell everyone I'm fine, but inside, it's harder than I thought it would be. Some of the comments sting more than I care to admit. I've been in relationships before, but none of them were "public" like this. My exes were all from my private circle - well, except for Chris, but that doesn't count. That was way before either of us was well-known. This, with Hugh, is different. It's out there.

I didn’t want that. I wanted to keep us private for a while longer, to hold onto this little piece of normalcy for just us. But now it’s out, and there’s no taking it back.

Now everything is under scrutiny. People question our relationship and my motives. Of course there are fans who are supportive - sweet comments, even some who come up to me on the street and say they love us together. But then there are the others. The ones who say I’m only with him to advance my career, that I’m using him to get ahead. Ever since our last movie together, I’ve been getting bigger roles, and some people think that’s because of him. Like I can’t earn anything on my own.

I try to brush it off, but there are moments when those words hit hard. And even though Hugh has told me a thousand times to ignore it. I’m not like him. I haven’t been in the spotlight for decades. I don’t have the thick skin he’s developed over the years.

Our managers weren’t thrilled either when they found out we’d been seeing each other behind their backs. It wasn’t anger, really, more disappointment that we hadn’t trusted them enough to let them in on it. But in a way, I’m glad we didn’t. We needed this to just to be ours for a while.

Still, despite all the noise, the criticism, the rumors—there’s comfort between us. We act like a real couple. We’ve never had the talk, though, about what we are exactly. Are we officially together? I don’t even know. We’ve just kind of fallen into this routine, and honestly, love it. I love the way he makes me feel like I’m the only person in the world when we’re together.

My eyes drift back to him as he lowers the weights, his muscles tensing with the effort. He's ridiculously strong, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a turn on. God, he’s attractive. And sweet. And patient. And funny. Sometimes I catch myself even fangirling. I mean, it's still Hugh fucking Jackman. How did I get so lucky?

“You good, y/n?" Hugh’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts, and I realize I’ve been staring.

“Yeah." I say, quickly covering up my awkwardness with a grin. “Just appreciating the view.”

His eyes narrow, that playful smile tugging at his lips. He walks over, sweat still glistening on his skin, and towers above me, crossing his arms. “You know, you could’ve just taken a picture.”

“Maybe I will next time,” I tease, leaning back on the bench.

He chuckles, the sound warm and rich. “Or you could just join me instead of sitting over there like a creep.”

“Please. I did twice as many reps as you did earlier,” I say, pretending to wipe imaginary sweat from my brow. “I deserve a break.”

“Is that right?” He raises an eyebrow, leaning down so we’re almost face-to-face. “Pretty sure I saw you struggling with those squats.”

“I wasn’t struggling." I protest, trying to keep a straight face, but his cocky grin is making it impossible.

“You say that now, but your form—”

“My form was perfect!” I laugh, pushing his arm lightly. “Stop acting like you weren’t impressed.”

“Oh, I was impressed." he admits, his voice dropping an octave. “Just not with your workout.”

The heat between us flares up in an instant, the way it always does when he looks at me like that. There’s this pull, this magnetic energy that I haven’t felt in a while. We flirt, we tease, we push each other’s buttons, and it’s exhilarating. But there’s always this line we haven’t fully crossed yet. We get close - so close - but we always pull back.

We go back and forth like this until we wrap up our workout. Hugh's leaving for Sydney tomorrow to visit his family for a few weeks, but his kids won't be able to join him because they're going on holiday with their mom, so it'll just be him this time

I'll admit, I already miss him so much. I don't really know what to do yet. So far, we've spent pretty much every day together, but now that the interviews are slowly getting fewer and everyday life is getting quieter, it's getting boring without someone to keep me on my toes. I guess Ryan and Blake will have to take over.

After the gym, we head back to his place, still bickering about who did better with which exercises. By the time we're on the couch, it's turned into playful shoving and teasing until his lips are on mine, and everything else fades away. God, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed the way his lips feel on mine, the way his touch sets my skin on fire.

But just as things are about to cross that line again, I pull away, leaving him breathless and staring at me in confusion.

"You’re impossible." he mutters, running a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice.

I smile sweetly, standing up and stretching. “I need a shower.”

"You’re an absolutely evil woman!" he calls after me as I walk toward the bathroom, but I don’t turn around. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.

I can't help but smile to myself as I undress and step into the shower. The hot water cascades down my skin, but my mind is elsewhere - back on the couch, replaying the way his hands felt on me, the way his breath hitched when I kissed him. It's getting harder to hold back, to not give in to the growing desire between us. We've come close before - so many times - but for some reason, we always stop right pefore things get too far. It's like we're both waiting for the perfect moment. I'm not in a rush, but God, he makes it so hard to resist.

But it’s not just physical. It’s him. It’s the way he looks at me, the way he makes me feel seen. I’ve never been so comfortable with someone, and that scares me a little. I’m falling for him - hard - and I’m terrified of what that means. We’ve never even talked about what we are, and here I am, thinking about how much I want him, how much I love him.

The thought stops me in my tracks. Am I in love with him? My heart pounds in my chest, and I realize that, yes, I probably am. But I don’t know if he feels the same way. What if this is just something casual for him? What if I bring it up, and he doesn’t feel the same? He’s never pressured me, never pushed for more, and sometimes I wonder if he’s happy with how things are - just casual, just fun.

When I'm done, I slip into my pajamas - just a simple tank top and shorts - and head into the bedroom. Hugh's sitting on the edge of the bed, scroling through his phone, but he glances up when I walk in.

"Took you long enough." he says with a mischievous grin. "Were you thinking about me in there?"

I smirk, leaning against the doorway.

"Maybe?"

He laughs, setting his phone down and standing up. He walks over to me, placing one hand on my hip, the other cupping my face. His lips brush mine in a teasing kiss, his hand sliding down to give my ass a playful squeeze.

"Behave." I mutter, but my voice betrays me, sounding more breathless than I intended.

"Why? I thought you like it when I don’t." he says, that teasing grin never faltering.

Before I can respond, he pulls away and heads to the bathroom. "I'll be right back."

I sighed and lay down on the bed and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling.

Before I can lose myself in my thoughts again, I hear the water turn off, and a minute later, Hugh steps back into the room, still dripping wet and wrapped only in his towel, which hangs dangerously low. I can't take my eyes off him. He's searching through the dresser, muttering something about forgetting his boxers, but I don't hear the words. My heart pounds in my chest, and I know - I know - this is it. I can’t hold back anymore.

Without second guessing, I get up and cross the room, moving toward him without a word. He watches me, his brow furrowing in slight confusion, but there’s something else there too.

When I reach him, I stop, just inches away, and look up at him. I don’t say anything for a long moment. I just let myself feel the weight of this moment.

---

Finally, I find my voice, though it’s softer than I expected. “I want you.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, I think I’ve surprised him. But then, something shifts in his expression, and the air between us thickens. He steps closer, his hand coming up to cup my cheek as he studies my face.

“Are you sure?” His voice is low, husky, and I can see the restraint in his eyes. He’s giving me an out. One last chance to change my mind. But I don’t want out. Not anymore.

“Yes." I whisper, barely able to speak past the lump in my throat. “I’m sure.”

That’s all it takes. In an instant, his lips are on mine, and the kiss is different this time - deeper. Hungrier. His hands move to my waist, pulling me against him, and I wrap my arms around his neck, melting into his touch.

Before I know it, he’s lifting me off the ground, my legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. I can feel the heat radiating off him, the roughness of the towel against my skin. His grip tightens, and I’m suddenly aware of just how much I want him - how much I’ve always wanted him.

The kiss grew more intense, more desperate, and I can feel the last remnants of our restraint crumbling. He carries me over to the bed, his towel loosening around his hips, and gently lays me down. Our breaths are ragged, our bodies pressed together in a way that makes it impossible to think of anything else.

His kisses moved to my neck while one of his hands disappeared under my top. I gasped softly and ran my hands over his strong back. He began to gently squeeze my breast as I pressed his hips against mine with my legs, clearly feeling his arousal. Breathing heavily, he rubbed his groin against me and applied more pressure to my breast.

"Please." I said softly and looked at him greedily. "Please what, love?" he broke away from my lips and straightened up a little to get a better look at my face.

I couldn't help myself and looked down to his towel, which was now hanging down so low that you could see his perfect v-line clearly, as well as the vein under his belly button.

I swallowed and also straightened up to pull my top over my head.

"Fucking hell." he muttered quietly. I lay back down with my arms over my head and looked straight at him. "Just stop holding back and fuck me already."

He didn't need to be told twice and leaned over me again. The kiss was wilder than before and I felt like his hands were everywhere. I was in such a trance that I didn't even notice that he had already thrown my shorts on the floor. It was only when I felt his fingers on my clit that I realized it. I gasped out loud and dug my fingers in his hair and shoulders as he caressed my neck and circled his thumb over my clit. I was a complete wreck. Everything happened so quickly, but somehow it also didn't. I pressed my knees into Hugh's sides and pushed my pelvis towards him as he slid two fingers inside me. I moaned loudly and pushed my head back into the pillow. Suddenly I felt an electrifying sensation as he ran his tongue around my breast and sucked on it. He curled his fingers in and moved his hand faster. I moaned loudly again and pressed my nails firmly into his shoulder as a pleasurable feeling came over me in my abdomen.

Hugh's kisses moved back up to my lips until he released his heavy breath and slid his fingers out of me.

He looked at me full of lust and totally befuddled. I had never seen him like this before. But seeing him like this almost made me go crazy myself. He smiled gently at me and stroked a few strands of hair from my face. "You're so damn beautiful."

I felt my face flush and ran my hands down his torso to his dick, smiling. He breathed heavily and closed his eyes as I slowly began to stroke him.

I clenched around nothing and bit my lip as I looked at him.

He looked at me again, bent both my legs and pulled my hands away, to stroke his own member. He rubbed his pre-cum wet tip against my clit and looked deep into my eyes. It made me absolutely feral.

"Hell. Stop fucking teasing!" I growled. Without another word, he slid into me and put my legs over his shoulders. I moaned loudly and curled my toes. He was breathing heavily and you could see how much he was controlling himself.

"You're so fucking tight." He slowly began to move his hips and it drove me wild when I felt him filling me up. "Baby please don't hold back." I moaned and closed my eyes.

"Eyes on me my love." he groaned and thrusted harder. I gasped, a little startled, and looked him straight in the eyes. My hands disappeared into his hair again and his speed increased steadily. I felt everything slowly boiling up inside me and I clenched hard around his dick. That eye contact. His moans. The sounds of our bodies hitting each other and the thick air in the room. Everything began to spin around me and I could no longer maintain eye contact.

"I'm gonna cum!" I moaned as I felt him thrusting even deeper than before. Hugh now closed his own eyes, let my legs off his shoulders and pressed both my hands over my head with one hand to stimulate my clit with the other. He was panting loudly himself. "Cum for me baby. I wanna see how you cum all over me."

That gave me the rest and for a brief moment I thought I was seeing the white light. My legs were shaking like crazy and I felt an incredible pull in my abdomen. Hugh moaned with me and let go of me to support himself with his forearms next to my head instead.

Panting, he rested his head in the crook of my neck while I stroked his sweaty back. Shortly afterwards, I felt his rhythm become more and more irregular until he did a last hard thrust and moaned loudly. The sound of his voice and the feeling of his pulsing dick made my skin crawl and I pressed myself tightly against him with my legs and arms.

There was complete silence for a moment. I could only hear our panting and our heartbeats in the room.

I felt his semen leaking out of me and slowly running down my bottom.

Hugh pulled away to lay down next to me and pulled me to his side before kissing me on the forehead. I smiled at him and stroked his sweaty chest with my hand.

"We should probably have done it before the shower." Hugh said with a smirk and looked at me.

"Or in the shower." He laughed and nodded.

---

After cleaning up, we lay together, our bodies entwined under the blanket. The room is quiet, except for the sound of our breathing slowly returning to normal. Hugh is beside me, his arm draped over my waist, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on my skin. I can feel the rise and fall of his chest against my back, and there’s a comfort in the silence between us.

But there’s also a weight, a need to say something. To define this.

I shift slightly, turning so I can face him. His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, neither of us says anything. Then, softly, I ask. "Do you ever… worry? About what people say about us?”

His brow furrows slightly, and he brushes a strand of hair from my face before answering. “What people say? You mean the age thing?”

I nod, feeling a lump in my throat. “Yeah. And the way they watch us. The paparazzi, the rumors… It’s just hard sometimes.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand gently cupping the back of my head. “I know it’s hard, y/n and I’m sorry you have to deal with all that because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say quickly. “I just… sometimes I don’t know how to handle it. But I don't want to be that person who lets the outside world affect what we have." I whisper. "But sometimes it just... gets to me."

"You're not that person." he assures me, his voice firm but gentle. "You're human. And it's okay to feel that way. The important thing is that we talk about it, like we're doing now.. And you don’t have to handle it alone." he murmurs, his lips brushing my temple. “I’m here. We’re in this together.”

His words are soothing, but there’s still a part of me that struggles with the reality of our situation. I bite my lip, hesitating before speaking again. “Sometimes I wonder… if maybe we shouldn’t—”

“Hey." he interrupts softly, his thumb grazing my cheek. “Don’t go there. We’re good, okay? We’re more than good.”

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch. “I know. I just don’t want it to get too complicated.”

Hugh is silent for a moment, then he asks quietly. “Would it help if we made it official?”

I blink, my heart skipping a beat. “Official?”

He gives me a small smile, his eyes soft as he looks at me. “Yeah. Maybe then they will stop harassing us with their questions." For a moment we both were silent before he started to speak again. "Like… would you want to be my girlfriend?”

My heart swells at the simplicity of his question and made me speechless. Then I slowly nod, a smile spreading across my face. “Yeah." I whisper. “I’d like that.”

He grins, pulling me closer and pressing his lips to mine in a soft, lingering kiss. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, content.

After a while, he pulls back, looking thoughtful. “You know, I’m heading to Australia tomorrow to visit family.”

I nod, already knowing. “Yeah, you mentioned that. How long will you be gone?”

“A few weeks." he says, his fingers brushing over my arm absently. “But… I was thinking. What if you came with me?”

I blink in surprise. “To Sydney?”

“Yeah. I mean, only if you want to. No pressure. I just thought it’d be nice… spending some more time together. Away from all this.”

I hesitate, the idea both exciting and terrifying. “I don’t know, Hugh. It feels… fast. I haven’t even met your family yet.”

He chuckles softly. “You wouldn’t have to. Not unless you wanted to. It can just be the two of us. We can do whatever you want. I just want to spend time with you."

I smile softly at his words, feeling my heart swell.

“I’ll think about it,” I say softly, leaning my head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, a calming rhythm that soothes the anxiety swirling in my mind.

“Good,” he murmurs, running his fingers gently through my hair. “That’s all I ask. No pressure.”

I bite my lip, thinking it over. The idea is tempting - really tempting.

"Okay." I say, making the decision. "I'II come. But maybe I'll fly out a week later. That way I can maybe meet up with Blake and Ryan, maybe even visit Chris in Boston."

Hugh nods, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Deal. A week later, and we'll have the best time. Just you and me."

We share another soft kiss, and can't help but laugh against his lips.

After our conversation, we lay there for a little while longer, basking in the afterglow of everything we’d just shared. The weight that had been pressing on my chest for weeks felt lighter now that we’d talked about it.

Eventually, we sat up, and the idea struck me - if we were really ready to move forward, maybe it was time to let the world know about us on our own terms.

“I was thinking…” I start, glancing over at him. “We should post a photo of us."

Hugh’s eyebrows lifted in slight surprise. “You sure about that?”

I nod, feeling a sense of resolve I hadn’t felt before. “Yeah. I mean the media already knows about us and we can't hide anymore. So why not?"

A smile tugs at his lips, and he reaches for his phone on the bedside table. “Alright, I’m in. Let’s take a picture then.”

I chuckle. “But maybe we should put on some clothes first?”

Hugh laughs softly, the sound sending a warmth through me. “Yeah, I suppose we shouldn’t scandalize the internet too much.”

As I sit up, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the bedroom mirror and grimace slightly. My hair’s a mess from… well, everything, and I’m definitely not looking my best. “Ugh. I look awful.”

Hugh stands up and shakes his head with an amused smile. “You look perfect,” he says, casually reaching into his closet for a shirt. He pulls one on, his muscles stretching the fabric in a way that makes it hard for me to focus. “Come on, we’ll take a cute one.”

I roll my eyes playfully but grab one of his T-shirts from the drawer. “Fine, but if I look weird, we’re deleting it.”

“No way!” he teases, pulling me into his arms once I have the shirt on. “You could never look weird.”

I can’t help but laugh as he wraps his arms around me from behind. He holds the phone up in front of us, angling it to get the perfect shot. “Okay, smile!”

I glance up at him just as he snaps the picture. My smile turns into a laugh, the joy bubbling out of me before I can stop it. I look ridiculous, but when I see the photo, it’s kind of perfect. Hugh’s grinning at the camera, looking all charming and effortlessly handsome as always, while I’m gazing up at him, clearly laughing and obviously so in love.

I bite my lip, hesitating. “I don’t know… I look a little -"

“You look great." Hugh cuts in, his tone firm but soft. “Come on, y/n. This is us. It’s real.”

I glance at the picture again. He’s right. It’s not some polished, perfect photo shoot - it's just us. Happy, in love, and completely ourselves. I sigh, giving in. “Okay, fine. Let’s post it.”

He beams at me, clearly pleased, and starts typing a caption on his phone. I lean over his shoulder to read it:

>>thehughjackman: Caught laughing at all the rumors... guess they weren't all wrong🤫 #couplegoals<<

I laugh, rolling my eyes playfully "#CoupleGoals? Really?"

"You're right." he says, smirking as he backspaces. "How about.. #HughJackedY/n?"

I swat him laughing, and he finally posts it without any hashtag.

I take my smartphone and also post it with another caption:

>>y/ninstagram: Who knew Wolverine was such a softie?❤️🐺<<

And just like that, it’s out there. The world now knows officially. My heart pounds a little faster as the notifications start rolling in almost instantly. I feel a rush of nervous excitement—what will people say?

We sit there, watching as the comments flood in, one after another.

>>vancityreynolds: Took you long enough!<<

>>blakelively:This is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Love you both!<<

>>ChrisEvans: Treat her right or Cap's coming for you!💪🏻<<

>>zendaya: Omg, stop! You guys are ADORABLE<<

>>officialladydeadpoolmovie: Deadpool approves of this union. Carry on.<<

I glance at Hugh as the comments keep pouring in, feeling a strange mixture of warmth and relief. There’s so much love here—so many people supporting us. It’s overwhelming in the best way.

“I told you it’d be fine,” Hugh says, his voice soft. He nudges me gently with his shoulder. “And look, everyone’s happy for us.”

I smile at him, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

More comments continue to roll in, some from fans, some from friends:

>>florencepugh: I KNEW IT!!!<<

But it’s the fan comments that really make me smile:

>>lordyx3z: Omg, I knew they were together! This makes me so happy!🥹😩<<

>>serenax77: Remember when y/n literally said 'fuck me' during an interview? Manifesting at its finest😂😂😭<<

>>hugh4ewa: Hugh, blink twice if y/n's forcing you to post couple pics😂<<

>>y/nno1fan: About damn time! Y'all had me waiting like the post credits scene of a Marvel Movie!<<

>>mynameseve: I need somebody to look at me, like y/n looks at Hugh😭❤️<<

>>girlpoolxpoppins: Can somebody pls check on Ryan? ASAP<<

>>boyinyellwspndx: y/n: "fck me!" - Hugh: "Say less". Dreams come true folks<<

I can’t help but grin at the flood of positivity. Sure, I know there will be some haters - there always are - but for now, it feels like we’re surrounded by love and support, and that’s all that matters. I glance at Hugh again, my heart swelling as he scrolls through the comments, laughing at some of the more playful ones.

“This was a good idea.” I say quietly, resting my head on his shoulder.

He turns his head slightly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Of course it was.” he murmurs. “Now everyone knows you’re officially mine.”

I laugh softly, my heart feeling full. “And you’re mine.”

We sit there for a while, reading through the comments and enjoying the moment. It feels like a weight has been lifted, like we’re finally free to be ourselves without worrying about what anyone else thinks.

And honestly? It feels perfect.

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01

Next part

[lordgrimoire]

So, an Idea, or AU I had regarding the good ol DPxDC.

I’m not sure what sort of disaster Amity’s ghost problem would be classified as, but think of what would happen if the local EMS (Emergency Services like Fire Departments, Law Enforcement, Emergency Medical, etc.) pretty much started jumping over the Mayor from the get-go? What if hard proof of these hijinx, for a brief time, were able to get out of Amity?

Well the Governor would probably have someone take a look, and once nonsense is confirmed (especially of its weird nonsense that looks a little to close to supers) they send in the National Guard, at first to keep an eye on the situation.

Then comes the Ghost Investigation Ward, and things go from moderately worrying to “WTF” real quick. And things start looking less Small Town USA and more Stalins Town USSR, at the height of Stalins Purges.

Admittedly it’s not immediate, and during the time between being put on “Indefinite Alert” and actually being relived this unit (I’m thinking a Battalion Sized force so about 1,200 soldiers/guardsmen total) ends up befriending the locals, and much to the Mayor, and GIWs, frustration, Phantom, as well as Red Huntress.

This leads to a standoff, the GIW can really only do what they want because of the Governments permission for them to do so, but engaging National Guard, who had not been federalized, may cause an issue or two. So they bring up the issue with someone who they think will back them up, their new boss Lex Luthor.

Now Lex isn’t a fool, but he figures out how the Justice League isn’t being called is due to a jammer the GIW set up and figures he can take a look around incognito like, or more accurately get trusted members of The Goonion, who he had Federally given approval to, to go take a look around.

When Alex gets the full story, and not just the GIWs original story but also updated info from the Doctors Fenton, who are now VERY worried, because they were wrong about Ghosts in more ways than they originally thought they may have been. Suffice to say, when Lex manages to get a copy of "The History of The Infinite Realms" and finds that Krypton's Afterlife is GONE, as in they did something similar to what the GIW is planning, he starts hitting the "Abort" Button with fury. Only to be told "Too late we're underway, we're going through a tunnel, what? What?" And now Lex decides Enough is Enough. Lex does two things, first he sends the GO order for the National Guard Battalion in Amity Park, then he starts trying to get a hold of the Justice League because "Listen I know you dislike me but I am willing to drop it all if you HELP WITH THIS BS THAT I JUST INHERITED!" Meanwhile back in Amity Things go from 0 to 100 faster than an Flash, that being the National Guard heard "GO" and immediatly started blasting. The Townfolks: Confused The Ghosts: Confused Team Phantom: Confused and Afraid The Ghost Hunters who are now studying Ghost Culture and the like: Very Confused and sorta getting Arrested. The GIW: Full of Bullet Holes, Screaming, and On Fire Meanwhile, The National Guard are waiting around two hours later with Phantom for any "Federal" News to come through: So the New President decided the Anti-Ecto Acts are BS, unfortunately they haven't been overturned yet so we're all most likely going to be marked as traitors. Mind if we hide out somewhere our bosses can't find us? Also the Justice League never actually knew any of the BS we've been going through, GIW Had some Jammer set up.

Phantom, Tired of all the damage and killing the GIW has caused in Amity Park: I'll try, but I'm not sure how much good it will do if the League shows up.

TLDR: Amity Park during it's entire run has a Battalion of US National Guard camped out in the outskirts/abandoned parts of town and they figure out most of the situation regarding Phantom not being the Villain Mayor Masters and the GIW Claim him to be. Following this logic they turned around and at the first opportunity attacked the GIW and pushed them out of Amity Park.

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 10 - Terms and Conditions

Now that you're part of the crew, it's time to set some ground rules.

WC: 4k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

You sat sleepily in Heat's lap, well, not his lap really, more like the middle of his tail. It was coiled in a tight spiral, your rump sat firmly atop it, your back pressed against his warm chest and his warm arms around your center. His naturally hot body temperature soothed the aches you still had from yesterday, he was taking such good care of you, knowing how worn out you were from taking most of the crew. He graciously hadn't attempted to mount you, but he hovered close by, which was welcomed given his sweet doting and care you were very much in need of. Your joints ached from the positions you'd been in for such a long period of time and your pussy was raw and aching. You didn't speak more than needed and Killer had provided soft foods, knowing your jaw was stiff from all the pussy eating and cock sucking you'd done. You were happy though. You felt content, and finally safe and secure in your position here. Well, as safe as you could be, now that you were officially a pirate.

“Now then Mouse,” Kid grinned, “let's make things official, aye? We believe ya story now, or at least we're trying our best to. It's still hard to accept yer from another universe. But you've at least proven your usefulness to us, so ya can stay on the crew. How bout it, Mouse? Ya wanna join my crew?”

“Yes captain,” you smiled sleepily, “will my job here be as your… bed warmer?”

“Aye, you'll be our ship whore,” Kid smirked, “only for the four of us here though, unless we decide to give someone a night with ya as a reward. You good with that?”

“Yes captain, as long as my boundaries are respected,” you stated.

“Of course lass,” Kid replied, “Wire will draw up a contract for ya later. He's the most knowledgeable here, he'll make sure your boundaries are laid out for us. Everyone we let have you will be made clear of your conditions. You're still up for the four of us free using you, aye? It was your original offer. I did let you live, after all.”

“Within limits, yeah,” you responded, trying to not let your lust-addled brain distract you from an important conversation. Being free used by four big, strong, attractive, well endowed men? Ohhhh what a horror, the worst thing you could imagine. “I like what we've got going on. Will I be given a share of the loot like the others?”

“Of course lass,” Kid chuffed, “if anything you'll be paid better. You'll be saving us a great deal of money by servicing us instead of having to spend money on island whores. We'll give you your own room, for convenience. Everyone else shares but the four of us, but I'm not sure anyone is keen on losing sleep whenever we have need of ya. There's a lounge in the castle we barely use, we'll have it cleared out for ya. We're on our way back to Sabaody as we speak, you can go to the shops and get whatever you need to get set up once we dock. We'll back pay you for your time since ya started servicing us.”

“Thank you captain,” you replied gratefully. You didn't expect him to pay you for your time as a prisoner. “That's generous of you. I won't let you down.”

“You'll probably find your bed doesn't get much use, unless you're in need of a break,” Kid continued with a chuckle, “but it'll give you somewhere to keep your shit anyway.

“Speaking of resting,” you interjected, “I had a bit of an idea. In terms of the free-using. I was wondering if you'd make me a more long term wearable collar, something that won't irritate my skin, thin perhaps. With a tag that has your jolly roger. I thought maybe we could use it as a signal, if I'm not wearing the collar then I'm in need of rest.”

“EXCELLENT IDEA!” Kid roared, spooking you a little as he thumped his fist against the table, “I'll make ya a collar that'll make everyone jealous of ya!”

“Thank you, captain,” you smiled, nuzzling sleepily against Heat's bicep.

“Tired, Mouse?” Kid smirked.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, “I feel like I'm hungover from yesterday. Drunk on dick I guess. And pussy.”

Killer and Wire snorted while Kid made a boisterous laugh. “Before you fall asleep,” Killer jumped in, “is there anything we need to know for the immediate future?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, trying to sit upright, to which Heat helped you, nuzzling his face against your back, “you need to get the ship coated before Ace's execution, cos after that the only coater I know will be busy.”

“Where do we find him?” Wire asked.

“You're all familiar with the coater already, in fact you met him the other day,” you alluded, “Silvers Rayleigh, he can coat the ship. You'll find him, or at least his wife, Shakky, in grove thirteen at Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. You unintentionally helped his friend rescue that mermaid by helping the Straw Hats escape, so he should be amenable to coating the ship.”

“He's the coater?” Kid exclaimed, “the fuck is the ‘Dark King’ doing coating ships?”

“Paying for his alcoholism, mostly,” you yawned, making the others snort laughs.

“Alright then Sleeping Beauty,” Kid laughed, before his smile fell to a more serious expression, “we don't have to worry about this whole execution shit, right?”

“There'll be a war, but your crew won't be involved,” you replied, “it'll all happen over at the marine base. You'll just see it on a screen on Sabaody.”

“Alright then,” Kid huffed, pleased and relieved with your answer. It was no secret that there was tension in the air regarding the execution and whether returning to Sabaody was even safe tight now. There were reports that Whitebeard was on the move to save Ace, and it made Kid uneasy, but he trusted your prediction, you hadn't let him down thus far. “Go get some rest then princess, we promise we'll behave till you're up to it. I'll have that collar for ya before your pussy is ready to get destroyed again.”

Kid winked as he stood and grabbed a boob as he passed by, making you squeal and slap his hand playfully as the captain chuckled. You started to stand as well, but Heat swung you onto his back to carry you, making you giggle as you grabbed his horns for support. “Giddy up!” You laughed. He pretended to buck you, which only made you giggle more, Killer shaking his head with a grin under his mask as Heat carried you out. He and Heat were in high spirits, overly relieved and happy that your story had been proven true and you got to stay. You'd promised Heat to do some sunbathing with him on top of the dinosaur skull while the sun was out, it was a good excuse for a nap and a cuddle really.

You hopped off Heat's back as he made it up, he was surprisingly fast and agile in this form. It'd made you curious as to why he didn't use this form more, to which he had told you that it ‘wasn't polite’ to go around in that form, whatever that meant. Maybe it was like how zoan fruit users usually stayed in their human form? Heat laid down first, making a pleased grunt as his head rested on the pillow he'd chucked up here earlier, his long tail stretching along the skull like an arrow pointed at the distant Sabaody that hovered on the horizon.

“I'm really glad you get to stay,” Heat hummed as you got comfy next to him, resting your head on his chest, tucked into the crook of his armpit.

“Yeah, me too,” you murmured back with a big yawn. Heat gave you a soft smile and a little squeeze before the yawn caught him too.

“Alright, ready to get started?” Wire asked, tapping the tip of the feathered pen against the page in front of him, “I've made a list of kinks the crew like to indulge in. You just let me know which ones you're comfortable with. Ready?”

“Yup!” You smiled back sweetly, leaning forward and resting your face in your palm, your elbow against the table. It was just you and Wire in the navigation room, he didn't want you to have the pressure of the others watching you and potentially pressuring you into things you weren't comfortable with.

“First item - free use for the four commanders, under the circumstances that your collar is on. That much I know you're good with, but what about outside of that?” He asked.

“A big maybe,” you replied, “I'm a regular woman without the collar. If they can seduce me, sure. But I reserve the right to deny them without consequence.”

“Okay, seems reasonable,” he replied, the pen making scratching noises as he jotted it down, “I have a list of things you've already participated in, so I'll just run through them quickly so you can confirm them for the contract. Touching of all body parts, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, blow jobs, deep throating, face fucking, use of strap on, cum on body including face and genitals and inclusive of female cum, cum in mouth, creampies. Threesome, degradation, praise, bathing together, face riding, both giving and receiving, those are the basics, yes to all of the above?”

“Can we make an amendment for no cum near my eyes?” You asked him, “otherwise yes to everything else.”

“No cum near eyes, got it,” he wrote on the page, “the next set is things you've done that are on the more intense side. Gangbang, bukkake, self-wetting, humiliation, somnophilia, exhibitionism, bondage, pet play and master/servant dynamics, both as dominant and submissive. Amenable to all of those?”

“Somnophilia is the sleep one, yeah?” You queried.

“Aye,” Wire confirmed.

“Okay, yeah that's fine,” you confirmed, “but um… I don't want Heat watching me use the toilet anymore. And I'm not eating out of a bowl or shitting in a litterbox.”

“Noted,” Wire replied, scribbling that down, “you were fine with the self-wetting though? What about other watersports?”

“I've never tried but, I'm not not curious,” you replied unsurely, “the self-wetting was… enlightening.”

“I'll put it down as a maybe, for future experimentation. You can change your mind later if you want, same goes for anything on this list,” Wire assured you, “now for the requests. Anal fingering, mouth to ass, anal sex. Receiving and giving. Thoughts?”

“Yeah, those are fine. I've done a few on the giving end as well, but I guess that person wanted to keep it to himself,” you noted, “just uh… only receiving the whole way with proper lubrication. No spit as lube bullshit unless it's only fingers.”

“Got it,” Wire confirmed, “next up, use of toys such as dildos and vibrators, use of nipple clamps, impact play, with hands and equipment. Bondage such as shibari, cuffs, bed, wall and furniture mounted restraints. Sensory deprivation. Tickling. Forced orgasms. Edging. Thoughts?”

“No to the tickling, limited to impact play. I'm not a fan of pain,” you explained, “light smacking is fine, but you can cross off anything too painful, otherwise yes to everything else.”

“I'll cross off knife play and hook suspension,” Wire said as his pen ran a line through several items, “next set. Foot play, non-con roleplay, softcore roleplay such as maid, fisting, sex under the influence of alcohol and drugs, use of purpose built furniture such as breeding benches, double penetration, of separate holes and of multiple cocks in one hole.” Wire looked at you expectantly, his pen paused over the page.

“Uhh, no to fisting,” you ran through the list in your head trying to make sure you remembered everything, “um… yes to one in the ass, one in the cunt. Maybe to two in my cunt, I've never tried. Definitely no to two in my ass.”

“I think you could manage two in one,” Wire smirked, “as long as I wasn't one of them. You took me so well.”

“Mmm, I certainly want to try,” you hummed, “quit reminding me of your big beefy cock or I won't be able to concentrate.”

“We're almost done,” Wire snorted and shook his head, “anything else not on this contract, we'll ask first. You'll be paid the same split as Heat and I get. You'll use the colour system for safe words regardless of if your collar is on or not. Green when prompted to go ahead, orange if something needs to change or you need a break, red if you need to stop. No consequences will come from using the safe words so please don't be afraid to use them. By signing this you agree to remain up to date with your birth control unless an explicit agreement is made to impregnate you, you may expect that from Heat or Killer, Kid and I aren't the type to want babies. If an accident happens, Kid promises not to kick you off the ship. The rest of the crew will keep their hands off you unless you give them permission, otherwise a maximum of once a week we may choose to allow them a night with you as a reward. You won't allow anyone outside of this ship to touch you without permission from your captain. You will remain on this crew unless relieved of your contract by the captain. You'll also be given regular STI screening, as the four of us do, and all other crewmates will be required to use protection with you. Do you agree to all these terms?”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed, openly ogling Wire's muscular torso, “you wanna fuck?”

“Sign here first,” he shuffled the page over to you and you quickly signed it, biting your lip as he stood and rounded the table. He loomed over you from behind your chair, running his hand up your neck until his hand was sweeping your chin up, forcing you to look at him. You pushed aside the page with its drying ink and sat on the edge of the table, spreading your legs for Wire to slot between them.

“What happened to having a sore cunt?” Wire mused, running his thumb over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh. He was all for fucking you, he'd been thinking a lot about your tight cunt and wanted to take his time with you. He worried though that you were ignoring your limits.

“Well you see there's this thing called ‘remembering how fucking big and hot your cock is’ and unfortunately I'm no good at disagreeing with my pussy, she wants what she wants,” you purred back up at him, peeking out your tongue to lick his digit before taking it in your mouth, humming as you sucked his thumb.

“You're so cute when you're being submissive,” Wire grinned, replacing his thumb with his pointer and middle finger and gagging you with them, “I have been wanting to get a taste of that pretty cunt of yours. No collar though,” he hummed, running his finger down your neck and tracing a trail of saliva over where the collar would sit, “so I have to ask, can I taste you, princess?”

“Please do,” you huffed, pulling your legs up so your feet rested on the table, showing off your flexibility as you sat back. You'd never properly redressed after waking up, still just wearing one of Heat's old shirts, large enough to fit as a baggy dress on you, your pussy exposed and inviting underneath. You tugged on the hem of the shirt to reveal yourself to Wire, who hummed appreciatively as he ran his thumb between your folds.

“Already wet for me,” Wire cooed as he knelt, “such a good girl.”

He kissed your thighs softly, making you giggle, before his teeth sunk into the soft flesh and the giggle turned to a moan. He nipped you a few more times before his tongue ran a fat stripe up your cunt, and your hand pushed away his hood to tug at his short hair. His tongue lapped against your pussy as he pulled your legs to rest over his shoulders, giving the occasional suck of your bud that made you whine. He was clearly enjoying himself as well, grunting against your cunt as his tongue bullied its way inside you, licking at your walls while his hand looped over your thigh to thumb your clit. You could feel his pointed sideburns against your thighs as he ate you out, his thumb making small, firm circles on your bud as his thick tongue wiggled inside you.

“Oh fuck that's good,” you moaned, laying back against the table, “just like that, fuck.”

His other hand weaselled up under his chin, the end of his middle finger toying with your asshole and spreading the slick and spit that had rolled down around the ring before sinking in. There was a spark of electricity in your clit as his finger pushed inside your ass, not quite finger fucking you, just toying with your hole for extra stimulation. It made that coil in your stomach pull tight, your back arching off the table as you fisted his hair, holding him tight against you. You could feel the coy grin he made against your cunt, and you made the mistake of looking down, immediately catching his eyes that were watching you carefully from between your legs. Those fucking eyes, they always did something to you, and you threw back your head with a groan, cumming on his tongue, his finger forced out of your ass by the contractions your orgasm made.

He gave you a few more greedy licks that made you shiver before he stood, making a show out of unfastening his pants and laying his thick erection against your stomach as his shorts and briefs pooled at his ankles. He rut his cock between your folds, getting his shaft coated in slick and spit and rubbing against your over-stimulated clit. “You're so pretty like this, blissed out with my cock laying against you,” he noted, “pull your shirt up, I wanna see your tits.”

You obediently did as he asked in your post orgasm daze, squishing and kneading your tits for his enjoyment. He groaned as you pulled at your own nipples, your hips rolling to grind against his shaft on their own accord. “You want it bad, huh? Cute little bunny, horny little thing,” Wire purred, putting more force into the rutting. He took himself in his hand and pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, pushing only the tip in and stretching you out. That on its own was enough to make you whine and try to shift to take more of him. “So greedy, trying to get more already. I'm gonna have fun taking my time with you,” he teased, pulling his tip out and sinking it back in over and over, making you whine at the emptiness each time he removed himself.

“Please!” You begged, “want it, want it so bad.”

“Yeah? You want this?” He asked, suddenly sinking himself in, to what he knew was your limit, before entirely leaving you empty again, his cock rubbing against your clit. “Use your words baby.”

“Want- want your fat cock,” you whimpered, “want it splitting me open. Wanna feel you filling me, please.”

“Such a good girl,” Wire cooed, bullying his cock back inside you, but not moving any further. You only said you wanted it inside you, you never said anything about moving. Wire was a master of restraint, any of the others would have already been fucking your brains out by now, while he enjoyed watching you writhe against the table as he warmed his cock. “That feel good, baby? You like keeping my cock nice and warm?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, “feels so full, hnng. Fuck me Wire, please, please please please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he toyed, before pulling out most of the way and slamming back in, prompting a scream from you at the sudden heavy thrust. He did it over and over, pulling out slowly, then pushing in hard and fast, driving you insane as you got enough stimulation to feel incredible but never enough to sustain the building orgasm, and you got the feeling that was purposeful. Wire was only doing exactly as you asked, he was testing you, teasing you to see how far you would go to beg for it. You reached between your legs to rub your clit, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and folded them against your chest, pinning you down.

“Please,” you begged, “more, please, wanna cum on your cock so bad.”

“How bad do you want it?” Wire teased, “what are you gonna give me in return?”

“Anything!” You cried, “please, anything, please fuck me harder!”

“You're gonna let me frost your face, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day,” Wire growled, “you're not washing it off till bedtime. Everyone's gonna see what a little slut you are.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined, trying and failing to fight his hold to try and fuck yourself with his cock, “please, please, please.”

“Good girl,” Wire praised, before finally committing to a hard and fast pace that had you shrieking and seeing stars. Your pussy made obscene squelches as he fucked it, Wire making grunts and tightening his grip on your arms as he used you like a cock sleeve, loving the way your pussy was already fluttering around him, so desperate to cum, choking his cock like it was desperate for him to breed you. “You gonna squirt for me, bunny? Gonna make a mess?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, unable to escape his hold as he started to overstimulate you, making you dizzy as you felt your orgasm rushing at you. “C-cumming!” You shouted before your thighs clamped around him and shook hard, cum dripping off the side of the table and on to the rug below, some of it drenching his abdomen. His cock never stopped pumping you, the wet sounds now increased tenfold with the added lubrication while you squealed and writhed before finally stilling with a heavy pant.

“Good whore,” Wire purred, “such a good girl.” You barely heard what he was saying, practically lifeless against the table, all you could do was whimper pathetically. Wire got close to his own peak and pulled out, climbing onto the table and straddling your chest. He pumped his cock over you, pleased by the half-lidded puppy dog eyes you were giving him, too weak and fucked out to do more than lick the end of his cock or feebly suck on the tip when he pushed it between your lips. “Close your eyes sweetheart,” he cooed. No sooner had you closed them did he grunt, and you heard his palm hit the table next to your face for support as the first hot spurts of cum hit your face, aimed mostly for your lips and cheek, some of it getting in your hair. It was a large load, and you could already feel it start to drip as he panted, rolling off you to lay on the table beside you, his legs hanging over the edge while yours were folded up, feet against the edge, knees together and still shaking.

“What do you say?” He teased.

“Th-thank you,” you whined.

“Good girl,” he huffed, before surprising you with his softness as he linked his hand with yours, “you're gonna do well here, and we're gonna take good care of you.”

“Mmm,” you replied sleepily, resting your eyes for a moment and enjoying his warm hand encompassing yours. Later you would go to dinner with Wire's cum still coating your face, sitting in his lap so it was clear to everyone who's cum it was. Everyone told you how pretty you looked, and promised they'd paint you too soon.

[Next Chapter] - coming soon

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[thewritingofspencerrose]

Good Mornings

Jack Hughes x girlfriend!OC

"Ja-"

"Jesus Christ, Z! Fucking knock would you?"Jack can't help but yell, body jumping and making mine jump along with his, my book falling from my hand.

"Dude, calm down, this is important," Is Trevor's response, at the very least closing Jack's and my bedroom door behind himself once he notices our lack of clothing from last night. "Also, I thought I heard something going on on my way to bed last night."

"You're right, it is super important how pervy you are for listening to my girlfriend and I have sex," Jack grumbles, pulling the quilt up on my body so that it covers more of my front, my eyes drifting up from the pages of the book to meet those of Jack's best friend, the boy looking entirely too comfortable in our presence.

"You and I both know that's not what was going on, you two are just noisy," Trev complains, rolling his eyes and making his way to plop in the desk chair in the corner of J's room, elbows on his knees and hands folded.

"Is there a reason that you're in here trying to sneak a peak of my naked boyfriend?" I can't help but groan, just wanting to return to our rare moment of peace, the ever incoming insanity of the house looming.

"I've seen Jack naked a million times, I have no interest in doing it this morning," Is the response I get, his entire being smug, earning the tossing of my book. At his head.

A kind gesture, I know.

"Hey, what the hell!"

"Should I be concerned that Z has seen you naked more than I have and we've been dating for three years?"

"I've been his best friend for sev-"

"Trev," Jack scolds, silencing the boy into a pout, although I can't focus on it too long as Jack's hand is pulling my chin towards his, kissing my lips. "Baby, you're literally laying on top of me naked right now. I don't think you're in a position to let him make you jealous."

"This is disgust- Wait is she laying on you nips out?"

"Trevor!"

"Dude you don't ask that to a woman! No wonder you're single!" Jack groans at the same time I scold Trevor for his words.

"I'm just saying - " He appeals, hands raised in a surrender, "How are you not actively a tree trunk man? Your hot as hell girlfriend is laying on you in her birth day suit and you're just laying there while she reads?"

"We had been enjoying a quiet morning until you barged in," I remind, his eyes turning to me.

"And you! You're hot -"

"Please stop there before I feel the need to hurl at the words that were about to come out of your mouth," Jack interrupts this time.

"What's to say that he's not hard as a rock?" I can't help but tease, Jack's brows hitting the ceiling as Trevor chokes on his spit.

"Ok, gross, I'm leaving."

"Bring me back my book! I want to finish the chapter I was on!" I demand, Trev tossing the book to Jack to catch as he makes his way to the door.

"We're going to pretend that this never happened, because otherwise I may be the one barfing."

"Trev, you were literally the one that barged -"

"Nope, can't hear you, see ya!" The boys calls, barely out the door and letting it shut behind himself.

Rising onto my hands, the shift catches J's attention, his eyes meeting mine.

"Yes baby?"

"You need a more normal best friend."

[missmonsters2]

—Just Last Lifetime | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wednesday is determined to recreate the special moments of your relationship to revive your memories—to revive your feelings. But it becomes apparent that the same memories cannot be created twice.

Warnings: Heavy Angst. Heartbroken!Wednesday. DestinedToBeAlone!Wednesday. Amnesia. Flashbacks. Violent emotional outbursts.

PART ONE

Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: so this is it! The end...haha unless...👀 lol jk...unless ☝️

Count: 4.9k

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

"We're going somewhere for our studies today."

You look curiously at Wednesday, clutching the straps of your backpack a little tighter at the sudden spring of information. 

Wednesday pretends to not notice your anxiousness, turning to walk off and expecting you to follow. She pays attention to the footsteps behind her, satisfied that you trail along despite clearly being reluctant. 

It's been easier to spend time with you lately, with Yoko being incredibly busy with her club activities, and Enid has been keeping herself busy on purpose to leave you with no choice but to spend time with Wednesday. 

Wednesday doesn't think you particularly hate spending time with her. You're always cordial and friendly. You've thanked her multiple times for taking the time to help you catch up on your studies and assistance with your current assignments. 

Just a few days ago, you gifted her 99% dark chocolate for all the help. Wednesday had been intrigued, thinking you recalled how she preferred the bitter taste. But the intrigue swiftly died when you informed her Enid let you know as you wanted to do something for her. 

It didn't matter. It was the fact alone that you went out of your way to give Wednesday something she'd like that mattered. 

"Where are we going?" You ask, your voice tinged with curiosity and wariness the further you walk past the school entrance, clearly leaving. "Are we actually studying?"

Wednesday's eyes peer to the corner of her eyes to look at you. 

"You study too much."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"You spend too much time investigating, Wednesday." 

Wednesday didn't even look up at you as she continued to pack her backpack for the day. 

"I thought you were interested in coming along to find answers?" Wednesday's voice was dispassionate. There was a part of her that was tinged with annoyance that you constantly invited yourself along to her trips if you were just going to get sick of tagging along now. 

"I very much am, but we've clearly hit a wall and I'm not particularly looking forward to walking around in circles in the forest today," you pursed your lip but then smiled. "Why don't we take a little bit of a break today? If you really want to, we can continue investigating tonight instead."

"You're willing to sneak out?" Wednesday raised her brow at you. She thought you were ridiculous for trying to bargain with her. The investigation was important, and Wednesday had no desire to lose any time. 

She would investigate, and you were free to come along or not. 

"I'll break any rule for you, Wednesday."

You said it in such a natural way, and Wednesday found that she was unable to reply right away. She looked back down at the ground for a moment, blinking before she looked back up at you.

"Where are we going?"

Wednesday had several ideas of where you might take her. There was the music hall, the planetarium, or even the garden. But what she hadn't expected was that you'd take her to the carnival.

"You didn't get to enjoy it, right?" You asked as you stepped out of the taxi, paying the driver cash. Wednesday didn't answer, but you knew the answer. "I mean, probably hard to enjoy since you were chasing the Hyde and almost died after Rowan did."

That was another one of the reasons why Wednesday didn't mind that you came along with her investigations. You were the only person who believed her when she said Rowan was dead, despite also being of the people who saw him in the aftermath. 

When Wednesday asked why you believed her, you simply said she didn't come across as someone who would lie about it. So, if he was dead, he was dead. 

"I suppose," Wednesday looked at the carnival before her. It was moderately busy for a weekend, and she wasn't particularly interested in doing any of these mundane activities. 

"Alright," you clapped your hands, bringing Wednesday's attention to you. "We're on a mission today. I come here every year the carnival opens up to win the biggest prize, but my tickets were short since the carnival got cut short last time with the entire…situation."

"What are you trying to win?" Wednesday asked.

You grin at her, pointing far down the carnival with a specific booth. "That mini motorcycle."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

"This is rigged," Wednesday seethed, glaring at the booth worker who was nervously sweating ever since she approached. 

You laughed, grabbing Wednesday's attention and the relief of the worker. "I know, right? We're totally just losing money at this point."

It was a simple game. A gun with 9 rubber bullets and 10 balloons to pop, and you had to win 5 times in a row with no supernatural abilities to get enough tickets to win the motorcycle. 

It was not impossible, Wednesday knew that, but the balloons were not close enough where she could get away with hitting two with one rubber bullet. 

They've both spent $100 at this point and while Wednesday would get 9 of 10 balloons every time, you would hit one balloon before you missed every other shot, hitting the corner of the wooden target. 

As often as you refilled, it was starting to wear a dent. 

"You're terrible at this," Wednesday bluntly said, but you merely smiled and shrugged. 

A bit of wind was picking up, making the balloons circle around in their spot. Wednesday spotted her opportunity and chance when two balloons circled close enough towards each other, barely grazing. 

Wednesday timed it perfectly and shot her 9 bullets, using her last one to wait as they circled towards each other before shooting and getting them both. 

"Oh," you grinned. "That was really impressive." 

Wednesday didn't react to your praise, waiting for the worker to rotate the next round of balloons and repeating her actions while the wind continued. 

So far, Wednesday has won 4 times in a row. She had to pause as the wind died down, but it was sure to come back in a few moments.  

"What do you want if we both win?" You asked. "There's only one motorcycle, so you may have to settle for something else."

Wednesday snorted. "I'm not sure I should get my hopes up on getting anything." It was a dig at the fact you've been absolutely terrible with your shots.

"C'mon, Wednesday," you grinned. "Dream a little."

"I don't dream."

"Nightmare it up a little," you quickly rebuttal.

Wednesday sighed, looking at the prizes that hung and framed the booth. Outside of random useless knick knacks, there were just stuffed animals—which were also useless.

But Wednesday's eye caught on a large scorpion stuffed animal. She wasn't one for being sentimental, but this was as good as it would get.

"That," Wednesday pointed at the scorpion stuffed animal.

You looked at it, grinning as you knew the story behind it. "Sure thing."

The wind picked up again, and Wednesday took the opportunity to win the 5th time in a row. The booth worker, whom Wednesday also assumed was the owner, looked relieved and reluctant to hand over the mini-motorcycle.

"I don't want to stand here for hours," Wednesday deadpanned, having already spent 2 and a half hours winning this prize for you. You would be here for 2 and a half days at the rate you were going.

"We're just about finished," you told Wednesday, and she raises her brow, thinking you'd given up. 

But you slap down another $20 bill, smirking. Wednesday looked to your side of the targets and noticed the small dent you've managed to create with the rubber bullets. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if that was your plan all along. 

Wednesday gets her answer within minutes. Suddenly, you've turned into a master marksman, shooting every balloon precisely until you were down the last two side by side. You tilted your gun, aiming it at the target, where you created a dent in the side. When you shot the bullet, it shot inside the hole and bounced against the wood, flying out with just enough force to hit the two balloons from the side. 

Wednesday furrowed her brows in disbelief. 

It continued like that until you won 5 times in a row without pausing. The owner looked like he wanted to say something but merely rolled his eyes with a certain kind of fondness Wednesday was sure you earned over the years coming here. 

"The tickets get you two of these," the owner said, handing you two large scorpion stuffed animals.

"Did you have fun?" you grinned at Wednesday.

"It was passable," Wednesday admits, unable to fully say that even mundane activities like carnival games were interesting if she was with you. 

As you left the booth, you handed Wednesday the stuffed scorpions to hold while taking the mini motorcycle. 

"Look," you said. "Now your scorpion has a little friend to keep them company, or a little girlfriend," you wriggled your brows at her while Wednesday sighed, not commenting back.

She looks at the motorcycle and then at you. "Do you even know how to operate this?"

You smiled at Wednesday. "Not at all."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The biggest prize of the carnival is still the mini motorcycle, as they don't change the award until next year. It seems they've stocked up since the last time the two of you were here. 

Wednesday knows you already have one, but it wouldn't hurt to have another one. 

You seem spirited to be at the carnival playing games, as it's obviously familiar to you. 

They walk up to the same booth with the same owner, who clearly recognizes them.

"Oh, not again," he sighs. "You're going to run me out of business. Any chance I can talk you out of winning again?"

You look confused, but when you see the motorcycle as the prize, a moment of recognition dawns on your face from the one in the corner of your room. "I've already won this," you slowly say as a confirmation but not as a memory. 

"Close," Wednesday drawls. "I won it."

You look confused as to why Wednesday would win the big prize for you, but before you question it, Wednesday speaks again. "It's time to repay the favor and win me one too."

You smile weakly as if the pressure is on, but you pick up the gun, studying the targets. The dent you created on the target was gone as the owner replaced it. You play a couple of rounds to get a feel of the game, while Wednesday puts little effort into her own game. It's unlikely there'd be wind again this time around. Even if Wednesday now knew the other method, it was something Wednesday hoped you would get on your own. 

As time goes on, you're starting to get the idea of how to win. It's rather satisfying to watch you get to the same conclusion. 

Wednesday takes her time achieving the same method as you. You're focused on your own game, not checking how Wednesday's faring. 

You both created a dent relatively around the same time before shooting in sync, winning 5 times in a row. 

The owner sighs, shaking his head and muttering about changing the rules about damaging the targets to win. Still, he hands you the motorcycle before asking what else you want.

"Uh," you hesitate, looking at the various prizes before you. Your eyes spot two stuffed animals that make you grin. "The bat and the wolf, please."

With the prizes in tow, the two of you leave the booth. 

"What are you going to do with the mini motorcycle?" You ask. 

"Teach you how to ride," Wednesday bluntly tells you. 

You look surprised. "Oh," you chuckled weakly. "Right, I guess I probably told you I wouldn't know how to ride one."

Wednesday doesn't know what to say about your comment, so she veers off topic. "What are you going to do with the stuffed animals?" Wednesday internally sighs at the ridiculousness of the question. There are very limited things you can do with stuffed animals. 

"I'm going to give them to Yoko and Enid," you smile. 

"Right," Wednesday mutters, feeling something bitter rise in her throat but unable to identify it. Despite coming here and doing it correspondingly, none of this feels the same. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

You shrug your shoulders before nodding. "It's not bad to take a break from studying."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The second time Wednesday takes you somewhere, you give her a confused smile.

"I'm pretty behind on my classes still," you gently point out, hinting that you're not up for another day of playing hooky, and Wednesday concedes with a nod.

"I'm aware. We aren't taking a break today," Wednesday clarifies, "we're merely studying in a different scenery." 

The walk is silent as you follow Wednesday's lead. She takes you further down the river to an area you haven't explored before until you eventually reach a tall wisteria tree, probably the only one in Vermont, preserved with magic. 

"Wow," you breathe in awe, "I didn't know we had one so near campus."

The gothic girl is lost in her thoughts as she settles near the base of the tree, grabbing the books from her backpack on autopilot. 

You used to trail beside her, and now you always walk one step behind. 

It's something Wednesday noticed as she took you around various parts of the school during your study sessions in an attempt to recreate the memories. She knows you're starting to find her odd, but Wednesday can't afford to tell you what she's really trying to do.

Wednesday's goal wasn't necessarily to make you remember everything by taking you to these places that hold special memories. If you never remember, that's okay. What Wednesday wants is to recreate the memories in hopes they'll lead the two of you down the same path it did the first time.

But instead of growing closer like you did the first time, it feels like you're pulling further away. 

Even so, Wednesday can't stop trying. 

"Um," you mumble as you search through your notebooks. "I was hoping we could pick up where we left off on ancient languages?"

Wednesday nods, and the two of you delve into the usual strict business of studying. 

Everything is fine, and Wednesday is grading one of your practice sheets while you work on another. It's fine until she notices your trembling fingers. It's subtle as you were obviously trying to hide it, tightening your hands into fists and keeping them at your sides as you attentively look at the worksheet.

"I can't seem to understand the syntax—" you start to say but abruptly stop when Wednesday suddenly stands up, reaches up, and rips off a wisteria flower stock from the tree. She sits back down, reaching over and grabbing your wrist. The gentle squeezing of her hold prompts you to open your hand up, and Wednesday places wisteria stock into your hand.

The shaking stops, and Wednesday begins explaining the syntax to you without skipping a beat while you stare at her, stunned.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Then.

"Let's go to the wisteria tree," you were holding Wednesday's hand as you dragged her along. "Today is such a beautiful day, and your skin is way too fair—I mean pale—I mean pallor—to be out in the sun."

Wednesday merely gave you an unimpressed look. 

"Once again, you're disrupting my investigations. At this rate, it will take me a lifetime to solve the murders going on here," Wednesday's tone was disgruntled. "It would tarnish not only my reputation but also my ego, and I will make sure you die a miserable death for doing so."

"Ignoring the fact that everyone on campus would totally be dead," you turned around and grinned, "We'd have spent a lifetime together—before you killed me, of course."

You didn't add anything else to your words, but Wednesday could catch the insinuations between the lines. 

A lifetime together. 

A lifetime with you. 

The idea didn't displease Wednesday at all; if anything, the fact that it didn't was more disgruntling. 

A large wisteria tree appeared, and the two of you easily settled in. Wednesday was grateful that she had an inkling she should bring a book today in her bag. 

"I love this place," you sighed with happiness. "I can't believe you found this place, and I've never noticed it in the years I've been going here."

"It's colorful," Wednesday drawled in response. The flowers that grew were vibrant violet and lavender, something she thought was entirely putrid, but she knew you would love it. 

Wednesday was about to say something else when she noticed your fingers were shaking.

"What's wrong with your hands?" Wednesday asked with narrowed eyes.

You looked down, finding you were shaking, before clenching your hands into fists. "It's nothing, it just happens sometimes."

"It's not nothing," Wednesday seethed, angered that you would dare lie to her face. "Why is it shaking? What's wrong?"

You looked like you were debating something for a long moment before you asked her. "Can you grab me one of the wisteria flower stocks?"

Wednesday narrows her eyes at your avoidance, but she gets up, pulls a flower stock off from one of the branches, and passes it to you as she sits down.

"Why does it shake like that?" Wednesday demanded again.

"It's my power," you answer softly, wrapping your fingers around the flower. Wednesday watched as the flower in your handle steadily withered and died. You were smiling at her, but your eyes had a distinct melancholy look.

"This happens when I don't use my powers enough or use them too much. Air is generally made up of a lot of different gases but too little or too much of one causes disruptions in my body because the equilibrium between the air outside and the air inside my body isn't stabilized," you shrugged, holding the withered wisteria flowers in your hands that no longer shook. "I try not to if I can, but plants are a cheat way for me to expel and absorb air to find the equilibrium."

"Why not? It's obviously the most efficient way to stop the shaking," Wednesday frowned. 

You shrugged. "I don't think it's a good idea for people to realize there are drawbacks to my powers and how to fix them. It may start with plants, but people will eventually start fearing I can use people the same way."

"Can you?"

You quirked your lip in response, and Wednesday knew the answer. 

"Besides," you sighed, dropping the dead wisteria stock with a regretful frown. "Some plants are really beautiful. It's a shame to kill them."

Wednesday looked up at the hanging flowers and scrunched her nose in disgust. "I encourage you to kill this offensively colorful tree."

"When it makes you so miserable? I can't deprive you of that."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Now.

The silence drags on too long, and your lack of response prompts Wednesday to look at you.

You're staring at her before Wednesday watches peer down at your hand, intensely in thought. There's a mix of disbelief and curiosity in your eyes, and Wednesday doesn't understand why. 

This was normal.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, making Wednesday's eyes nearly flutter at the sound. But the next words make her freeze. "Was I in love with you?"

It's something in the way you say it, curious and accepting. Something rushes into Wednesday's chest like a stampede, and she realizes it's hope.

Your tone doesn't suggest you remember anything, but Wednesday rationalizes that it's fine. While it would be ideal that you remember everything, it's not a condition Wednesday holds. 

You’re biting your bottom lip, looking reluctant. The silence falls again and lingers until you speak up again, trying to be firm.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore. I don't know what I felt about you before the accident...but that's gone. I'm not going to feel it just because you bring me to places that mattered to us. I don't remember it and I don’t understand it."

Stop talking.

Wednesday wants you to stop talking. She closes her eyes, turning her head away as if that would stop her from hearing your words. 

You don't take the hint. 

"I don't feel that way about you anymore." 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

It was fine—it was. 

Wednesday spends the rest of her week doing various things. She writes, then she goes to the library; she briefly goes to the bee club until she can't stand Eugene's chattering and leaves. She goes on walks with Enid, who smartly avoids talking about you, and sometimes subjects herself to Xavier's monologuing and brooding in his art studio. 

Wednesday fills the days with various activities while simultaneously avoiding areas you'd be in. It's not that she's afraid of seeing you, but simply that she doesn't want to. 

This is fine. 

The day has come to an end, and the sun has long gone from the sky. Wednesday decides to return to her room and play the cello before bed.

This is for the best. 

Wednesday focuses her thoughts on her cello and what she'll play, and perhaps Thing will be there to turn the pages for her. 

It is meant to be this way. 

The room is dark when she enters, and Wednesday knows Enid is not around. There's a small feeling of relief that she doesn't need to face her roommate right now. 

The silence in the room feels jilting in a way Wednesday's not used to. She used to be content in the quiet...until you. Then she grew used to your presence and soft chatter around this hour. 

Wednesday clenches her fists.

Good riddance. 

You were a mistake, and you did her a favor by cutting ties. This was something Wednesday should've done herself a long time ago. 

Thing greets her on her bed, and she acknowledges him with a nod. She shreds off her backpack and changes out of her uniform before grabbing her cello and heading out onto the balcony.

The scuttling footsteps behind Wednesday tell her that Thing is quickly following. 

"Bring me the new music sheet to play," Wednesday directs. She needs to play something different that would require her focus instead of her usual repertoire, which would allow her mind to drift.

Wednesday starts playing immediately, eyes focusing on the notes she's playing while Thing diligently flips the pages for her. 

This is good.

This keeps her mind focused and sharp. Wednesday doesn't have time to think about anything else when she has to focus on what note she'll be playing next. 

Despite the new piece, though, Wednesday's mind begins to drift. She has to make a conscious effort to keep her focus on the music sheet in front of her, but you pop up in her mind interspersedly.

"Wednesday, I don't know you—at least not anymore."

Her fingers falter, her cello emitting a jagged sound from her mistake. It's so unbelievably frustrating. She hasn't ever made a mistake while playing her cello since she first started learning it as a child. Years and years have gone by without a single mistake, and it was all ruined because of you.

You plague her like a disease that festers under her skin. Wednesday's done her best to ignore you for days now. She's been ignoring the sight of you, the talks of you, and everything down to the thought of you. 

Yet, you were still there, underneath everything. You simmer like a slow boiling kettle until you can't be ignored anymore. 

Wednesday closes her eyes frustratingly, willing you to leave her mind. She threatens her brain to erase the thought of you. It'd clearly be so much easier to forget you. After all, look how simply you live now without a memory of Wednesday. 

But you don't go away. The memories remain with Wednesday, torturing her for what will likely be the rest of her life. 

This was not a form of torture Wednesday ever thought she'd have to endure. 

Wednesday opens her eyes and stands abruptly as she walks back inside. She didn't bother turning on the lights, and the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight shining through the balcony.

"I don't feel that way about you anymore."

Wednesday clenches her jaw and tightens her grip on her cello. 

How entirely damning. 

Suddenly, a white-hot ball of rage forms in Wednesday's chest; everything she's been trying to push down for the last few days spills over. Emotions run a rampage inside her, unable to be controlled and ignored any longer. 

Wednesday lifts her cello before violently smashing it into the floor, the body of it breaking in an uneven half, wood splitting into multiple pieces. The tailpiece cracks, and the strings snap, one of them into Wednesday's hand and cutting it.

The rage and adrenaline in her body don't allow the pain to register, even if she can see the blood. 

How could you forget?

Wednesday begins destroying other parts of her side of the room—her bed, her clothes, her books. She pushes her wardrobe over and knocks over the chair at her desk, the loud banging ringing in her ears but not loud enough to cover the pain in her chest.

Thing scuttles back and forth in worry, but he cannot do anything to help his friend. He immediately leaves out the door with a mission. 

How could you not want to fall in love with her again?

Wednesday pushes her typewriter off her desk—she thrashes everything off her desk. Her beloved typewriter crashes into the floor, the carriage breaking off along with other various parts. Keys pop off, making a ruckus on the floor as they hit it, but it doesn't bring any relief. 

None of this is. 

Wednesday pulls open the drawer, grabs out her manuscript, and looks at the last few pages she's written. Viper falls in love with someone who helps her with her investigations, and Wednesday has written up to the part where Viper begrudgingly accepts that fact she has feelings for this person and accepts their confession. 

Wednesday has never gotten rid of any parts of her work all these years. Sure, she's done revisions and draft editing, but every scene down to its core idea has never been removed. Wednesday is a stern believer that every scene is meant to happen, and she cannot change the course of her writing when she looks back. 

But Wednesday begins to shred multiple pages. She shreds page after page but doesn't know when to stop. Should she stop before Viper gets involved with this person? 

Along with the anger settles in hollowness. 

It's the realization that even if Wednesday destroys these pages, she can't really undo the fact that Viper has met someone and fallen in love with them. 

How could you leave Wednesday to remember everything alone?

Wednesday hears the door open, but she doesn't turn around. 

"Wednesday?" Enid's voice is soft and unsure, full of concern. 

Wednesday doesn't answer. 

Enid steps further into the room, shutting the door behind her as she looks around. The room is a mess with so many broken items on the floor, but her side remains untouched, nearly down to the tape they removed ages ago. 

Enid is careful as she makes her way to Wednesday, the girl's shoulder tense with obvious rage. But even so, Enid knows her roommate would never hurt her. So, she places a hand on her roommate's shoulder when she's next to Wednesday. 

"Wednesday—"

Wednesday is quick to whip around and look at Enid with violently accusing eyes. "This is your fault," Wednesday spits out. "I wouldn't be feeling this—this loneliness if you haven't been spurring lies to me about love." The tone is filled with disgust at the last word.

Wednesday has never expressed any ounce of emotion that would allow her to scream at someone, but she wants to scream at Enid and can't. Even if she wanted to, her throat feels so raw with something Wednesday can only detect is the urge to cry. 

But even if Wednesday threatens her body to refrain from crying, the salty water spills from her eyes without permission. The spill and spill, even if Wednesday doesn't make a single sound. 

Enid doesn't care if Wednesday punches, stabs, or even kills her—she pulls Wednesday into a bone-crushing hug. Her roommate resists at first, pushing against Enid, but it's useless against her werewolf strength. Enid holds on, even as Wednesday's pushing turns into desperate clinging. 

Wednesday's tears are hot, and Enid knows logically tears are always hot, but she finds herself surprised they are. It's just another sign her roommate is all too human too. 

"It's okay, Wednesday, I swear," Enid whispers, rubbing Wednesday's back in soothing circles, even caressing her messy braids. 

There's no heaving or loud sobbing, as that would be too much for the somber girl. Even so, Enid can feel the tears soak her neck and dampen her shoulder. 

"It's not," Wednesday's voice is so raw, as if the girl had been violently sobbing. She clutches at Enid's back, her eyes blankly staring at the mess she's made of her room. Everything is out of place or broken. 

It shouldn't be Enid here, but the person Wednesday wants will never show up.

"I don't have anyone anymore."

[cordeliawhohung]

Dunno if you've answered this but what are our Mafia men like drunk? How often do they do so? How high are their tolerances?

you know what, this is only fair since we've been talking about the girls and them being drunk lmao

mafia!Price probably drinks the most out of all of them, but doesn't drink so much to the point that he gets drunk. he likes to have a pint after a hard days worth of work and whatnot, so alcohol is probably in his daily/weekly diet. because of this, i imagine he has a higher tolerance than normal, but not like, anything too high. when he does get drunk, i imagine he's pretty smiley. maybe not all that talkative but he's a good listener. and the staring. jfc this man and his blue eyes. if you're in the room, he's staring at you. thinking about you. touching you if he can. wants you in his lap, wants his lips on your skin. and if you're not in the room? or anywhere close? he's texting you. wanting to call you. just wants to listen to you. he def strikes me as a sappy sort of drunk (which is probably why he doesn't get drunk all that often lmao) and he just wants to be close to you ):

mafia!Simon probably has the highest tolerance out of all of them, simply for his size if anything else. he enjoys his whiskey every now and then, but i feel like he very rarely gets plastered or anything. always been put off by it because of how his dad acted when he was drunk. if he were to get drunk, though, i'd imagine he'd be pretty loud. not like, shouting and yelling loud but just... his voice is booming. that is, if he does talk, otherwise he's on a goddamn mission to play pool, darts, or what have you. the man cannot and will not sit still. i also feel like he'd be a sleepy drunk lmao. like he'll be moving around and doing all this shit, but the moment he's sitting on a couch or leaning on the counter, he's dozing off. his poor liver is working overtime to process the godawful amount of alcohol he had to shove into his system. because of that, he uses you as his personal stuffed animal when he's drunk. oh, you're cuddling and now you're too warm? maybe you're suffocating a little? too bad. try again come morning.

mafia!Gaz is a fucking lightweight. i'm sorry. he really is. the guy is really proud of his physique, and he works out a lot at the gym, and going out for beers all the time won't really do him much good. besides, it's rare that he does go out, and drinking alone feels depressing, so why bother? but when he does get drunk? this man will not shut the fuck up. he's already got a nice voice but when it's all groggy from the alcohol? god, it's impossible to not fall in love with. and he'll just talk about anything. he'll respond to something you say with something completely unrelated to what you had brought up in the first place. he also will use his drunkenness to get out his real thoughts. sure he can talk a big game when he's sober, but he is going to tell you that you smell nice and that he likes your hair and that he wouldn't mind bending you over the couch, whoops.

mafia!Soap has a pretty high tolerance simply because he drinks so goddamn much. he'd probably be right under Simon as far as tolerances go. and this man is loud. like, loud because he's yelling. he's watching footie on the tv. he's playing pool with Simon. he's yelling about both of them. he's trying to get Kyle to take a shot with him. he's asking Price about his beard. he's whispering to you how he wants to eat you out in the bathroom. he's the hard party guy, probably the most akin to a frat boy. but once he hits that point where his tummy feels sick? he's the biggest fucking baby ever. wants you to run your fingers through his hair, wants forehead kisses, wants to rest his head on your thighs, he wants it all. you have to force him to drink water. have to tuck the man into bed like a toddler. it's endearing for a little while, but you get a bit annoyed with it once he starts throwing up lmao.

[neverchecking]

More Sage Hc's

Because I miss him :(

And this is a wonderful half-collab with @angry-trashcan. I love you so very much and thank you for letting me yell ideas at you.

CW: Mentions of child abuse, child soldiers, Zelda slander, Sage

・❥・Welcome back. :)

・❥・So, we've established Sage as his own character at this point. I think it's safe to say he is not Wild. They are similar but two very distinct characters. That is something I'd like to clarify.

・❥・But we'll step into that later.

・❥・For now, let's talk about his entire timeline from start to finish.

・❥・So, Bailey and I talked about his parents and this is the conclusion we came to:

・❥・As everyone knows, Link in the AoC/BotW/TotK timeline was in the knights by a staggeringly young age. Either four or twelve or fourteen. I've seen them all, but I'm not sure if there's a canon age.

・❥・For Sage, we're going with four.

・❥・Now, let's start with his father. Sage's father was in the knights as a commanding officer, which is why he was okay with Link joining the knights. However, because of this a lot more expectations were placed on a very young Sage. And if he failed the punishments were much harsher and much less justified.

・❥・There were nights when Sage/Link was left on the ground outside because his father didn't deem him worth the effort and forbade people from helping him.

・❥・He'd walk past and spit on this terrified child because he didn't live up to expectations. "Your mother would've been so disappointed."

・❥・(shout out to Bailey for ripping out all of our hears with that line.

・❥・Because of this Sage finds much more comfort sleeping outside. Even a a century later, he prefers the comfort of a constant rather than a bedroom he was never allowed the privilege of knowing.

・❥・When he gets his house in Tarrey Town, he builds the stable extension first and slips outside with Epona.

・❥・We also agreed that his mother most likely died during the birth of his sister, which is probably why they had to move out of the Hateno house and closer to the castle, if not on the castle grounds.

・❥・If I had to make an assumption on his mother, she was probably a timid woman that never stood against his father.

・❥・This is really just my lil tidbit but because of that headcanon it's why I made Aaliyah such an abrasive character because I feel Sage would feel too much like his father with someone who reminded him of his mother. Or the little bits he remembers of her.

・❥・Anyway, his mother was probably a seen rather than heard woman,

・❥・Now, you're probably asking about his sister. We decided that she would've ended up as a maid/servant in the castle.

・❥・This is for two reasons:

・❥・One) It adds to hatred Sage has for the Royal Family. As a knight he would've had no choice but to watch this happen and would feel that burning guilt as a bystander, ignoring the fact that he has no choice in the matter. Maybe that's why he fought so hard pre-Calamity. Of course, he still fought because it was his duty, but I also like to imagine he was trying his best to protect his sister before it could ever hit her. Even if it was a fruitless endeavor.

・❥・Two) When Sage remembers this fact, it's probably before Tears of the Kingdom. The bridge between TotK and BotW probably is Link/Sage unravelling a lot of the trauma he tried to ignore regarding the royal family. So this is almost a catharsis to the entire feat. Moreso with Zelda/Natura's reaction.

・❥・She'd be flippant and almost ignorant to the entire ordeal.

・❥・Before anyone comes for my throat, let me explain Natura's character okay?

・❥・So, as far as I'm concerned, Natura hasn't learned anything. She's very much still the same character she was in AoC which is a spoiled individual with little regards to the woes others are facing. She had a tough time, yes I understand that and she was young, but she had no reason to act the way she did with Link. I don't care, argue with the wall.

・❥・She went digging around in the remains of what was left of her people post BotW trying to figure out how the guardians worked. She puts more emphasis on her studies and research rather than her people. Remember this is Natura. Not Zelda. This is my characterization in the same way that Sage is my characterization of Link.

・❥・Anyway, she didn't go looking for a way to solve the Gloom issue, she went looking for a way to capitalize on it. Like the pharmaceutical industry.

・❥・So you can imagine her reaction knowing that.

・❥・"We kept her off the streets like a worthless rat. You should be thanking me."

・❥・Yeah, it's not great.

・❥・So then TotK happens, yadda yada.

・❥・Sage loves animals. Let me get this straight. He's not heartless, he's angry and he's vengeful. Animals never wronged him. He finds comfort with animals as they can't lie to him. He can earn their trust and they'll remain loyal.

・❥・Because Sage is a dangerously loyal man. He still carries the loyalty of the hero's spirit, but it's amplified. Once you're his, you're his forever. Nothing can drag him away from you as he won't let it.

・❥・He's so loyal it turns from a positive attribute to a flaw. :)

・❥・He's possessive and protective and doesn't see an issue with it. Everything else has been torn from his hands but his fingers will be broken and bloody before he lets what's his go.

・❥・I bring up the animal thing just to say Sage gets a dog. You know that stable that closes down in the desert? And how all the stables have stable dogs? Well, this one follows Sage all over Hyrule. And if he goes in the depths thinking he's lost it, the second he's out the dog is sniffing his ass out.

・❥・Yes, he keeps the dog and feeds it the nicest cuts of meat, don't worry.

・❥・It's name is Droolius Caesar.

・❥・Timeline wise, let's talk about that.

・❥・So again, Bailey, and they're gorgeous fucking brain, brought up the idea of him being on a different timeline then Wild. I ran with it.

・❥・I don't see TotK falling on the timeline nicely no matter what we do. Not with the Zonai and not with the other game.

・❥・So what if it doesn't fall on the same timeline as BotW? The same events happen but now it's different.

・❥・Here's how it goes:

・❥・So when Time splits the timeline we get the normal one where, yay! he saves the day! and the other one where he doesn't. Call it the downfall timeline, the fallen timeline, the failure timeline, I don't care. For the sake of argument it's the Fallen Timeline here.

・❥・So there's an idea that the timelines merge somewhere between Wars timeline and Wild's. But let's say they don't. Because the Fallen timeline goes to Legend, then Hyrule. Then what if it doesn't fix itself and just continues. which is where it then leads to Sage's era.

・❥・Only this timeline is on hard mode at all times. Legend's adventures were difficult, Hyrule's era is absolutely brutal, so it makes sense that Sage's is just as hard.

・❥・We toyed with the idea that because this timeline is so hard, the heroes that reign from it are just that much more advanced. It's shown through Legend and then Hyrule, both of whom have wielded the full triforce at one point or another (I think). Somewhere between Hyrule's world however and Legend's, the goddess' didn't like this idea. They didn't like the idea of the hero having this sense of power, so they stripped it away entirely. They knew that somewhere the hero's spirit would be tainted and took away the power that could be used to dethrone them before it could manifest with Sage.

・❥・In turn, the hero's spirit carried on and grew stronger to overcome this. Sage still has the hero's spirit, but it's not like an actual spirit. No, it's more like the fallen hero carrying on and trying to amend for his sins.

・❥・Which Sage hates. He hates it so much, but it propels him before he can stop it. In the beginning of TotK? It's what propels him to jump in after Zelda. After however? The gloom is what finally kills that spirit. Rauru can save him, but fails to save the spirit.

・❥・And from there Sage evolves and arises into the rat we all know and love.

・❥・All of this to give my own lil headcanons on Epona.

・❥・So there's a theory that Malanya (Horse god) Is actually Malon and I like that. (Because she gave Link Epona OG and they sound similar) So in Sage's Era? Guess what?

・❥・Anyway, I imagine Malanya and Sage had a better connection because of this. Malanya goes out of their way to care for Sage and his horse because they feel they failed their Link.

・❥・So Sage gets an Epona in a way to apologize for their first failure.

・❥・Epona is a very good horse <3

・❥・So in the wise words of bailey to end this off,

The hero's spirit is dead. Long live whatever the fuck Sage is.

[andhumanslovedstories]

Hey so your post about pain management as a bedside nurse is so important to my own nursing practice that I've considered printing it out so I can have it to hand all the time. So thanks for that. Also, how do you deal with assignments that are busy enough that pain management is harder than it should be? I'm coming up on two years as a nurse and I feel like I take it personally when I am too busy to adequately manage my patients pain. I'm also coming from a newly unionized hospital where the ratios are still horrendous (I do 1:10 on med surg) and I'm hoping once we can enforce our staffing grids it'll be better but idk I'm burning out and I love my job so much and I really respect your nursing philosophy? I guess. Sorry for the word vomit it's been a crazy shift.

I've been trying to think of how to answer this since I got it. It's just such a horrendous ratio. With ten patients a shift, that's like six minutes an hour for each in a fantasy world where there's no charting and everything is exactly where you need it to be. I feel like I don't have great insight into this because the most med surg patients I've had assigned is five. Ten patients to one nurse is just a raw deal for everyone. Like christ no wonder you feel like you're burning out! I'll give you what thoughts I have and hopefully other people can chime in if they have suggestions. But that's such a hard patient load.

When I've been super swamped, I've found that's when being really explicit about your thinking with the patient helps. Like if I have to dash into a room and then dash back out, I'll make sure the board is updated with the next medication time and that the patient knows when the medication is going to kick in. I'll also provide call light parameters. I have a lot of success telling people, "the med should be doing something by 5:30. If I haven't checked in with you by then, and the pain is unchanged or barely changed, hit your call light and we'll try the next step. Also hit your call light if you feel any sudden change, like now you're nauseated or you have a headache or the type of pain changes or something just feels very wrong. Is there anything you need before I step out of the room?"

I like to be explicit about when to call me because I think there's two directions call light usage can go wrong: someone calls all the time, or someone never calls. With someone who calls all the time, I find that telling them when I'll be back and that I want them to call me if I'm not takes away some of that anxiety that can causes some people to call frequently. Often those patients are afraid that if they aren't on the call light, they're gonna get ignored.

For the other type of patient, the one that doesn't call, I want to make explicit that it's GOOD AND NORMAL TO CALL YOUR NURSE WHEN YOU HAVE SYMPTOMS. We've all had that patient at the end of shift who goes, "btw the gnawing pain in my leg is now a 10/10" and you're like "what gnawing pain sir?? you've literally never mentioned it before now?? I don't have any meds for that lemme page super quick????" These patients can get into pain crises easily because they don't ask for help until something is unbearable. In addition to pain crisis bad, it takes a lot more time to deal with something unbearable than it does to deal with something uncomfortable.

On that note, are you spending your very limited time efficiently? To me, that actually means spend more time talking with patients, at least up front. Manage expectations, make sure people know what to expect. Having conversations with patients that are like, "You just had surgery, it's not gonna happen that we get you completely painless. We want to get you to a manageable pain level that allows you to do whatever it is you most want to do this shift." (For me on nights, that's usually sleeping at least a little, but sometimes the realistic goal you make together is that you will feel at some point better than you feel right now.) "You have this medication scheduled, and you have this one available every X hours when your pain is severe. Is there anything you know that helps you deal with pain?"

Also establish if patients want to be woken up for certain prn medications or if they're sleeping, to let them sleep. With some patients, I will advise them to get woken up for pain medication because I know that they're going to need consistent control to avoid a crisis. (Crises take so much time!)

When I'm crunched for time, I'm fond of bringing in an ice pack and being like "if it works, great, if it doesn't, just take it off, either way here it is." Sometimes I'll do the same with a warm blanket. If I know my patient needs to take pills, I'll bring a cup of water with me into the room. If there's a basic prn like melatonin or tylenol that I think they might want, I'll pull them in advance. If the patient doesn't want them, I return them next time I'm in the med room. (Obviously, don't do this with controlled substances. It's super easy to forget to return them, and not returning opioids is one of those whoopsies people get fired over.)

Decision making takes time. Walking to go get stuff takes time. I want to save the time it takes to assess if the patient needs those things and then walk off to fetch them by just having the things already. If your tightest resource is time, be liberal with resources you can spare. If you're stuck with a patient, do you have anyone you can delegate a prn med pass to? Do you know how to do the absolute minimum charting you need to? Do you have flushes and alcohol wipes and whatever other most common things you need? And since you can't hoard time, if you've got some to spare, ask yourself if there is anything you can do now that will save you time later. If you have five free minutes now and an incontinent patient, getting them up to the bathroom now can save you from taking the time for incontinence care and a bed change later on when they've also sundowned and decide they hate everything but most of all you.

So much of this answer I realize is investing as much time upfront as you can, which I realize is so hard when you are so busy. It sucks immensely that prepping takes much less time than not being prepared does when you don't always have time to prep. Plus when you invest that time to pain plan with patients and do small preventative interventions, I think it also provides some psychological comfort that helps with pain. You're letting them know you're invested and you care and you have a plan, even if you don't have all the time you'd like. That can mean better pain control, which can mean needing to spend less time in that room overall, meaning you can save six whole minutes at some point and maybe even, if we're feeling crazy, get a chance to indulge in that greatest of indulgences: just a real leisurely on-shift piss.

[obsidiancreates]

Bad Day

Shawn Spencer, Head Psychic of the SBPD, doesn't have bad days. He had exciting days, setback days, annoying days- but never bad days.

Shawn Spencer, the ADHD and CPTSD riddled human man, does have bad days. He had them Fairly often from ages 0 to 8, Frequently from ages 8 to 18, and Near Daily from ages 18 to 28.

But he'd tucked the Regular Human Man away when the Head Psychic became a real, viable option, so if you asked him "How often do you have bad days?" he would put a finger to his head, smile, and say he never has bad days because he can see them coming to avoid.

At least, he usually would.

Today though. Today started with a groggy morning escape from a Greatest Hits Roll of his most upsetting moments in life posing as "dreams", then an empty fridge, his go-to cafe being closed for a health code violation, the office fridge being empty, and finally a voicemail from his dad scolding him about some thing. A case, maybe, Shawn doesn't know- he's already lived a full day, as far as he's concerned, and now it's time to lay in the empty office and reset.

So he lays down on the couch, closes the blinds, and lays his slightly-pounding head on the armrest.

Running through woods, sweating in a trunk, failing the math test and knowing the bully did too, gun to his face, gun to Gus's face, tape on his Mom's face-

"Shawn!"

Shawn's eyes snap open, taking a breath like a barb that stabs the back of his throat. Great, he slept with his mouth open and now his throat is sore and dry. Just what he needed today.

"The Chief just called me, she's been trying to reach you all morning." Gus picks up the office phone, and tsks. "How many times do I have to tell you which way the phone goes in the charger?"

"You could try telling me when I care." Shawn throws his arm over his eyes.

"Wha- Shawn!"

"Wha, Shawn!"

"You better knock that off before we get to the station."

"Sure, Dad."

"I'm serious, Shawn! Get up! She said it's important!"

"She always says it's important."

"And it usually is!"

"And sometimes it's her needing a babysitter!"

"Fine, then I'll go get the case, and keep your part of the check."

"... Fine."

The ride in the Blueberry is quiet. Gus keeps looking over at Shawn, and it makes his skin prickle. It's not the first time- Shawn loves attention, but sometimes someone looks at him in just the wrong way at the wrong time and it feels worse than having a weapon waved at him.

They pull up, and they walk in, and Lassie and Jules are already in the office.

"Gentlemen, nice of you to finally join us," The Chief says, her controlled tone the perfect example of Passive Aggressive.

"Sorry, Chief, it's just that we have lives sometimes."

She pauses her flipping through files, and looks up at Shawn with narrowed eyes and lips pressed thin. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Gus begin his Lamaze breathing, Jules's eyes widen as she dips her head, and Lassie smirk a bit at the oncoming trouble Shawn's surely just invited for himself.

"Well, Mr. Spencer, so do we, but-"

"But you're city employees, aaand we aren't." Gus elbows Shawn, hard, and Shawn just grits his teeth and pushes back.

Lassie looks at him with equal amounts shock and wicked delight, Jules with just plain shock. The Chief blinks, letting out a huff of what could be laughter, but probably isn't.

"I don't know what's got you in a mood, Mr. Spencer, but I suggest you sort yourself out now. This case is looking like a high-profile murder at the moment."

"Looking like?"

"We've got blood, a broken-in door, and a knife missing from the residence. The body is missing, but our victim was one of the top, tobacco production CEOs in the entire west coast, and he had enough enemies to fill the station and more."

Lassie whistles. "Impressive."

"And time-consuming. We need-"

"Me to get a reading on the suspects, right, can I see the crime scene photos?" Shawn grabs them without an answer. Jules gasps like she just witnessed a stabbing- or is about to, which she very well may, given the look The Chief gives him. If Shawn's head didn't hurt, and he didn't feel like every emotion he's ever felt in his entire life were all compacting into one horrible apathetic brick in his chest, maybe he would care enough to scale back a little.

He flips through. Standard crime scene, terrible photos, worse than the time the murderer was the one taking them. "You should fire whoever took these. I mean it."

"Shawn!"

"Shh." He waves his hand in Gus's face. Knife missing from the knife block, no evidence of it anywhere else in the house, blood on the bedroom rug, smearing suggests a body being dragged, but ooooh, what's that?

"Who checked this crime scene?"

"We did." Lassie looks at the photos over Shawn's shoulder- well, head. "Why?"

"We were really thorough."

"Do we both think that word means the same thing?" He doesn't want to say it, but it slips out, and Jules looks hurt instead of shocked this time. But he's not wrong.

"The victim isn't the victim, he's the killer. Oh, I see it." he half-heartedly waves a hand and closes his eyes. "Yeah, the blood spray, the victim was attacked by someone laying in the bed. And this one-" He flips to another photo in the stack, eyes still closed but knowing it's right. "-This one shows the knife block, I can see there are no grooves in that slot of the block, it wasn't regularly removed and returned but all the others were. I think our 'victim' knew someone was after him and probably slept with that knife under his pillow."

"We did find a journal with some paranoid ramblings," Lassie mumbles.

Shawn opens his eyes. "Seriously?"

"Well, they were written like a whackjob. Just pages of the same thing over and over."

"What thing, Lassie?"

"I don't know, some bull about being watched and being ready."

"Like maybe by an enemy? And being ready to kill to defend himself?"

"Geez, Spencer, what is wrong with you today?"

"You're right, I'm sorry. Clearly, we should throw out all the important evidence because it seems just too helpful!"

"Watch it-"

"That is the usual procedure around here, right? Just sort of miss and ignore evidence until I show up? Follow all your worst leads first?"

"That's it!" Lassie grabs Shawn by the collar.

"Detective!"

"Carlton!"

"Shawn, say you're sorry!"

"You've been an ass before Spencer but this is- CHRIST!"

Lassie yanks his hand away, and Shawn makes a face as he wipes at his teeth with his shirt. The fabric comes away slightly red.

Jules pries Lassie's good hand off the hurt one, and then looks at Shawn like she's never even seen him before. "Do you even know what you just did?!"

"Assaulted an officer!" Lassie growls, accepting tissues from The Chief to press to his bleeding knuckles.

"Not my fault you have thin skin. ... Literally."

Lassie reaches for his gun.

"Enough!" The Chief slams both hands on her desk. "Mr. Spencer, out. I am letting you off with a warning this time but if you ever, bite one of my officers again-"

"He won't," Gus says quickly. "Right Shawn?"

"Did everyone miss the part where he tried to choke me?"

"Shawn!"

"Right, sorry, I'm sorry, everyone, I forgot that Lassie gets special privileges when it comes to police brutality."

"That's a serious accusation, Shawn!" Jules is backing away now, standing closer to Lassie's side.

"Wow, I had no idea! It's not like I know everything about police procedure because I was drilled on it my whole life!" Shawn knows he's out of control now- he knows, he hates it, this isn't fun out of control, this is bad out of control, this is that Out Of Control that pushed him to steal a car and run away without goodbyes and try to just burn every bridge. It's building up, brick after brick of compressed bad days and weeks and years, and it's not fair to take it out here and now but he can't help it.

"Mr. Spencer, you are officially withdrawn from this case."

"Got it, uh, good luck, detectives, with actually arresting the right person."

"MCNAB!" The Chief's shout makes Shawn flinch even through the foggy, half-aware state he's slipped into. He's just... mad.

Buzz comes running in, almost slipping, barely avoiding hitting his head on the door. The laugh that sneaks out of Shawn is ugly even to him, and he hates it, hates everything he's said and done this whole day, but it happens away and Jules looks at him with unfiltered contempt and Lassie looks ready to actually kill him and Gus looks like he might help out.

"Escort Mr. Spencer out, of this station."

Buzz points at Shawn, mouth slightly agape as his eyes travel over to Lassie cradling his hand and Jules now refusing to look at Shawn at all and Gus holding Shawn like he's a misbehaving dog.

"Careful, I bite." He's not really in control of his own mouth anymore. He feels more like he's dreaming now that he did earlier. Is this the part that isn't real? Is this the nightmare? God, he hopes so.

"Oh, geez." Buzz hesitates for a second, and then tentatively puts an arm behind Shawn. Shawn smiles at him. The look in Buzz's eyes makes him think there's still some blood on his teeth.

He jerks at Buzz a bit. Buzz only startles, but Lassie, Jules, and The Chief all brace to get in the way. Why did he do that? This is getting dangerous. He should just stop.

"Um, just, this way." Buzz puts only a little pressure on his back, but it sends a shock through Shawn's system like a car battery. He has a full-body convulsion away from the touch, and in the shocked silence that follows it he shoulder-checks Buzz as he storms out the door through the station. Eyes are on him, prickling and stinging at his skin, brick on top of brick and-

... Ow.

He blinks at the blood on the rough wall of the station lobby, and looks at the mottled skin on his knuckles.

Gus catches up to him and takes in the scene. The whole station is probably staring too. A numb feeling in his hand starts to spread, but it's not numb-numb, it's pain-numb.

"I think I broke it." His voice sounds jarringly solid and steady to him.

"Yeah." Gus approaches carefully. "Are you uh... feeling better?"

"... No." Shawn clenches his fist and watches the skin stretch, fresh blood beading across the wounds. That should be bothering him. It should be snapping him out of it. It's not.

"Are you gonna do something if I try to touch you right now?"

"... I think so."

"So this is bad-bad."

"And I thought I was the observant one."

Gus tsks. "Will you go to the car? Without anyone making you?"

"... Maybe." He wants to say no. He's just barely holding back from saying no, from calling the car stupid and pointless like it's driver and he doesn't want to think that but he's barely here right now and it's just ringing over and over in his head and-

"Can you stop yourself from punch the car?"

"Yes!" It comes out a snap, a shout, and Gus backs up, and Shawn feels sick but he can't seem to do anything about it.

Gus is about to say something more but Shawn is moving and slamming the door behind him and he could get shot he could get shot but he does and he avoid The Blueberry and just walks. Away from the station, his apartment, the office-

His phone chimes and his hand is shaking as he rips it out of his pocket and throws it against a wall, gritting his teeth so hard as he walks away from it shattering that he breaks a tooth as well. He hears it happen. The phone is more of a good solid bam! while the tooth is a smaller crrrk!

The wandering is the most dreamlike he's ever felt. Just passing buildings and people and seething over nothing and going nowhere.

And then all of a sudden he's Back.

He blinks, and stops, and sucks in a breath, and it all crashes down on him.

The bricks blocking up his chest crumble, their dust clogging his lungs, and he can't breath as it all replays with a sharper clarity than he'd had in the actual moments. He sinks against a wall in some... somewhere, and stares at a tree while it all plays over and over and his head screams to go back and face it an apologize while his everything-else screams to just leave, just go and keep going and never look back-

It's nearly dark out when he sees The Blueberry come into view, but he just stays like he is, arms on his knees and head leaned against the dirty concrete wall. Gus slams the door as he gets out. Shawn feels a flinch try to make it's way to the surface, but now he's in a different dream. It's not so mad, but it's still not good. He's still not here. He was, for a few minutes, and then he'd sat down and... when exactly did he go away again?

"Dude, you have problems." Gus is sweating, breathing hard, eyes bloodshot. "You have serious problems!"

Shawn would nod, but his neck is stiff. He hadn't really noticed until now.

"... Get in the car." Gus's voice is a little softer this time. "I'm taking you to see someone tomorrow, I mean it. ... Chief's orders. It's that or we never work for them again."

"That's fine with me." It's not fine. It's not fine! Why'd that come out of him? He didn't say that.

"No, it isn't." Gus moves out of his vision. Shawn hears fabric against wall, so Gus probably sat down next to him. "... What is this, Shawn?"

Shawn swallows. His throat is dry. He hadn't noticed that, either. No, not hadn't noticed- hadn't been capable of feeling it. Like how he can't feel his body, really, and can't seem to control his words, and can't even control where his thoughts are going.

He has to try a few times, to be able to say anything. To even pry his dry, cracked lips open. To even wrestle back control of his vocal cords. To even identify the problem.

He licks his lips, and Shawn Spencer the ADHD and CPTSD riddled human man, speaks.

"... I'm having a bad day."

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Hitting it off (dp x dc)

I've just started watching the 1975 tv show Wonder Woman, so have a thing:) Diana has just started being Wonder Woman in this.

"I hate this stupid decade and I hate time-travel," Tucker muttered as they snuck around the military warehouse.

"I'll be sure to pass on your dissatisfaction to Vlad," Sam murmured back dryly. "Just, you know, once we stop him from destroying the future as we know it."

"What is his plan, again?" Tucker said as he ducked out of sight of the guards.

"Something about him wanting to found the company that will invent the candies that Danny's mom likes so she'll fall in love with him or some insane shit like that." Sam chanced a look around the corner.

"How is he getting crazier every time, seriously?" Tucker groaned.

"Get ready," Sam said, tapping her friend on the shoulder. "They're about to switch off."

"Why are we doing the sneaking around, when we know a guy who can literally turn invisible?" Tucker muttered.

"Did you want to deal Vlad?"

Tucker's answering grimace was answer enough. They fell silent just in time for two soldiers to come in and talk to the two that were previously there. As they got to talking, Sam and Tucker made a dash for the back of the warehouses, staying low to the ground in an effort not to be seen.

They reached the warehouse successfully without being seen though Tucker was wheezing and leaning heavily on the metal structure they were hiding behind.

"Just... need... a second," Tucker panted out as Sam looked around to make sure they hadn't been spotted.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" A voice came from beside them. Sam had to press a hand on Tucker's mouth to muffle his shriek as she turned towards the sound. She was faced with a woman wearing a red, white and blue costume with bracelets on her wrists and a lasso(?) attached to her hip.

"Who are you?" Sam shot back in an attempt to stall.

"My name is Wonder Woman," the woman said. "I am a superhero."

Tucker frowned, now fully recovered from the mini heart attack he'd experienced. "If you're a superhero, why are you sneaking around instead of asking for access, then?"

"I do not like doing paperwork," Wonder Woman answered solemnly.

Sam looked at her blankly, trying to figure out if the woman was joking or not.

"Fair enough," Tucker answered at her side with a nod.

"Now," Wonder Woman started. "Tell me who you are and what is your aim here."

"Well I'm Tucker," the teen started with a hand on his chest before he moved it to indicate his friend. "And this is Sam. We're..."

"We've received a tip that there would be an assassination attempt on Private Essex," Sam took over smoothly. "We were sent to prevent it from happening without causing a commotion."

"I see," Wonder Woman stated earnestly. "That is a worthy goal. I shall do my best to assist you, once I take down the spies."

"Spies?" Tucker asked with an excited gleam in his eyes.

"Yes," the woman said. "Our intelligence says that spies have infiltrated the army. Luckily, we managed to discover that they will be meeting in this warehouse right now to exchange secret documents."

"Why not combine our efforts and help each other with our mission," Tucker offered.

"Very well," Wonder Woman agreed.

Sam nodded before getting the hard-won blueprints of the warehouse out of her bag and flattening it on the ground.

"I have a plan," Sam started, "First, Tucker and I will sneak through the-"

Wonder Woman hadn't even let her finish before she kicked the door off its handles and sent it crashing to the floor with a yell of "Stop right there!"

"Or, we could do that," Sam deadpanned as every head inside the warehouse swivelled towards them. She allowed herself a sigh. "Let's go." Sam grabbed Tucker and hauled them both after Wonder Woman who was carving a path through the soldiers and leaving carnage in her wake. Tucker turned to her and managed to yell in her ear while continuing walking.

"I take it back, Sam! This is great!"

[2af-afterdark]

Lord of the Mountain

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Content: Malleus x afab!Yuu|Player (you/your), fantasy au, oral sex (Yuu recieving), Malleus is a dragon-man and we monster fuckers shall feed, yuu is shy, first times, yuu is a virgin, double dicks for our dragon✌️ A/N: Planned for this to be longer, but the spot I hit was cute sooo... Also, you know, real life is kicking me in the teeth right now Word Count: 912

Malleus – the fabled terrible lord of the mountain whose moods controlled the very weather and earth around him; whose happiness made crops grow plentiful and healthy and whose anger split the sky with lightning and thunder – held your knees apart to admire the space between your legs that you'd been trying to hide by closing them. His emerald eyes bore into you, a thousand questions dancing at the tip of his tongue but not one being asked as he concerned himself more with studying every inch of your beauty; the shape of your hips, the build of your frame, the swell of your breasts hidden behind the cup of your hands, the shyness on your face as you looked away from him, he etched all of you into his eyes and committed it to his very long-lived memory.

He intended for more senses than simply his sight to admire you. He buried his head between your legs, pressing his lips against your lower ones. His long, black tongue dragged through your wet folds, then effortlessly doubled back to get another taste of your chastity. 

He savored the flavor of your arousal, demonstrating the restraint of a saint so as to not ravish you entirely despite his desires. You were, at the end of the day, only human and he had to use a delicate hand when handling you or else you may just break beneath his claws. 

But when he glanced upward, you were not looking at him. Your eyes were turned away, while your lip was practically red from how fiercely you had been biting it to muffle your own voice. You were the perfect visage of nervousness and anxiety, but he intended to chase that expression away.

His hands slid beneath your buttocks, lifting your hips enough to lift them into the air and press firmly against his mouth so he could slip his tongue inside of you. The small, surprised gasp you made as he licked the sides of your inner walls threatened to test his patience. After all, you were a feast. So much so that he had to forcefully pull himself away before he devoured you whole.

Malleus pulled away from your dripping hole. “That should be enough to allow your body to accept me.”

“My lord,” you said with warm cheeks as you stared away from your own nudity, trying to ignore how your lower half burned and throbbed with want after what he had done, “I don't think there is a human alive who could welcome all of you.”

He didn't have a frame of reference to compare himself to a human male, but surely he wasn't that much larger. Not enough to be of concern at the very least.

He repositioned himself between your legs, sitting up so he could rest his hardness – both of them – against your mound. The hand holding your left leg open was replaced by a tail curling around your thigh so Malleus could press a spot on your lower stomach.

“They will only reach to here.”

Only.

As if the place he was touching wasn't a hair's breadth from your belly button. As if you were supposed to find it comforting as he brushed his fingers over that spot. As if you weren’t lying under a man – well, a dragon technically speaking – for the first time.

“My lord, that's still quite the feat.”

“Is it? It seems normal for a female dragon to take this much. Are humans different?”

“I wouldn't know, my lord.”

The corners of his mouth pulled slightly downward. “We've spoken about using titles and you’ve already uttered mine three times.”

You felt your face grow warm in shame and embarrassment as he pointed out your behavior. “I'm sorry. I'm not used to referring to you by name yet.”

“Even now?” He asked.

“Even now,” you confirmed.

“Shall we delay the ceremony until you're more comfortable?” He continued to ask, but the way his erections twitched against your entrance in anticipation told you that he was eager to proceed.

“No, my lord.” As nervous as a part of you was, you wanted the same thing deep down. “I'm ready and willing. Please allow me to officially be your bride.”

Bride was the term given to those residents – male or female, man or woman, old or young, rich or poor – of your village and many others nearby that were sent as a sacrifice to the lord of the mountain. When the fields were barren and the water ran dry, they were expected to throw themselves at the lord's mercy and convince him to grant prosperity to their families and neighbors. But you would be different than all his previous brides, because you would be the first one to truly be his mate – or, that was the term he used, at least, but it sounded so animalistic that you still chose to use the phrase you were more accustomed to.

As soon as he had your permission, you could feel something fat pressed against your entrance, already pushing its way inside.

An unease rose up in your stomach for what you knew would happen next. “M- my lord?”

“It's only one and I shall be gentle,” he promised as he leaned over you. He laid his palm against yours to lace his fingers with yours. “Tell me if you would like to stop.”

“I don't plan to,” you replied as you curled your fingers around his. “Please continue.”

[practicedvmm13fullofpotatoes]

Things in The Neighbor's Under the Bed that drive me insane

(WARNING: IT'S A REALLY LONG POST FOR SOME REASON. CONTINUE IF YOU DARE)

Mark said "They beat us 7-nil", implying that Abigail was also a Raccoon. So. Both of them are retired Raccoon City players but Mark cares about football and getting back at Johnny and Janae's father. Abigail loves the guy enough to let him do his plans, occasionally helping him (like with the tunnel thing) but she doesn't obsess over football like he does

"A nipple a day keeps the Rangers at bay!" "That's what we've got on our house crest" I know all of these things are supposed to be for comedic purposes but that implies that Abigail's been doing the nipple thing since the Raccoons lost to the Rangers (hell, she could have also been doing it before they lost to the Rangers but I don't think she'd have the need to do that unless conspiring with Mark to get back at the Rangers)

THE ADDAMS JUST HAVE A BLUEPRINT OF THE EVANS' HOUSE. WHAT??

"We love you too, Dad!" Janae, that is your mother--

"Don't hit your brother anymore, that's not very nice okay?" "I try to but the night terrors" This is Janae responding. I can't tell if this is because Janae has nightmares and is hitting Johnny in their sleep or if Janae hits Johnny to wake him up from a really nasty future dream

Johnny coming out of nowhere while Martha was already telling the boys goodnight and her not knowing that he wasn't in the room shows how neglectful of a mother she is. Sure, she comforts him but also tells him to "shut up" and to "stop being weird".

"Yes, Johnny, that's the one" WHY DID JANAE HAVE TO CONFIRM THAT THEIR MOTHER WAS RIGHT WITH WHAT THEIR OLDER BROTHER'S NAME IS??

"I did say that he was my older brother. But he's emotionally less mature" This is definitely to clarify to the audience but I'm taking this as Janae knowing that their mother can't differentiate them sometimes.

"What do you mean you had another one of your future dreams?" SHE DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HE'S TALKING ABOUT. AND THIS IS A REGULAR OCCURRENCE, MIND YOU. SHE DOESN'T LISTEN TO HIM WHEN HE'S TALKING ABOUT HIS FUTURE DREAMS!! HE LITERALLY HAD TO EXPLAIN WHAT HIS FUTURE DREAMS WERE

"I'll try but I do have to finish the Oxford curriculum" Implies they're in school and then Tom throws the next line "Because, you know I'm lecturing in the morning" which throws my previous idea out the window. JANAE LECTURES AT OXFORD?? JANAE FUCKING GRADUATED AND TEACHES AT OXFORD??

"I dreamed a man came out from under my bed :(" I mean, sure, it's technically correct but not exactly correct?? Which implies that Johnny either has 80% accurate future dreams or his dreams come from another perspective sometimes??

"But sometimes they come true, mommy!" SOMETIMES?? SO THEY DON'T ALWAYS COME TRUE?? I MEAN. OKAY

"It's okay, I'm familiar with the carnal act" what has this eight-year-old seen....

"My seis-- my seismogram" Tom was blanking on what it was called but yes, a seismogram exists (I saw it on my exam. But now I'm starting to think that an 8 year old just recently invented it)

"It's not true" IMMEDIATELY TOLD HER CHILD THAT IT ISN'T REAL. DOES SHE CARE ABOUT HER CHILDREN? PROBABLY NOT

"If it was true, it would be called a seismoGRAPH" BOTH OF THEM SHUT JANAE DOWN. WHAT?? GUYS. HEAR 'EM OUT. COME ON

"I said I made it myself, it's something new, father!" NEITHER OF JANAE'S PARENTS WOULD LISTEN TO THEM. ALSO, THE EMPHASIS ON "FATHER" IMPLIES JANAE DOESN'T LIKE THEIR FATHER MUCH

"I know where he gets his power. I have to sleep with his wife" THIS IS LIKE THE MEME. ["I'VE CONNECTED THE TWO DOTS" "YOU DIDN'T CONNECT SHIT" "I'VE CONNECTED THEM"] NO BUT WHERE THE FUCK DID HE GET THIS IDEA I'M SOBBING SO HARD

"ENGORGE HIM AND HAVE HIM ENTE-- no wait-- ENGORGE HER AND HAVE YOURSELF ENTER HER" TOM WAS READY TO MAKE THIS GAY. I LOVE THAT

"It'll just be me and the boys--" "No, me and the boys" THEIR FATHER IS TOO FIXATED WITH FOOTBALL THAT HE DOESN'T EVEN CONSIDER HIS CHILDREN

"Tasting menu" "Expensive.." THIS ISN'T REALLY RELATED TO THE LORE I'M TRYING TO MAKE FOR NEIGHBOUR'S BUT THIS IS HILARIOUS

The nod to Luke before patting the chair. Again, not related to lore but I love this moment

AJ going to drink in the background until Luke spoke. Took a moment to pause because that was definitely not what Johnny sounded like previously (not related. again)

"We had a different daddy. Our daddy was not our daddy it was the neighbaah :(" Okay so going back to Johnny's future dreams, they aren't 100% accurate to what actually happens but rather a caricature of it?? Dreams don't always make sense in real life, so Johnny's future dreams being a bit exaggerated makes sense kind of??

"WHY ARE THEY DOING IT IN THE RECORDING STUDIO WITH ALL THE MICS ON?!" THEY HAVE A WHAT IN THEIR HOUSE? THEY HAVE A RECORDING STUDIO???

"I was going to suggest a fire but okay!" JANAE IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT THAT A FIRE WAS THE BEST WAY TO SOLVE THIS. THEY MAY BE BOOK SMART BUT THEY'RE A LITTLE BIT FUCKED UP IN THE HEAD. JOHNNY, THE ONE WHO GOES MORE ON EMOTION RATHER THAN GENUINELY THINKING, WAS THE ONE WHO HAD A RATIONAL IDEA. CALLING THEIR DAD WAS DEFINITELY THE BETTER IDEA. AND THEN HE JUST AGREES WHEN JANAE SUGGESTED A FIRE. YEAH, NO, NEVERMIND THEY'RE BOTH A BIT FUCKED UP (then again, younger children have wild imaginations. Janae might be intelligent but that doesn't mean they're not a kid. Hell, their boosted iq may or may not have aided with the fucked up ideas they might have)

Janae just being a news anchor/football announcer in a normal speed while Jack and Mark are in slow mo. Why is that? To make it a bit more dramatic? Because it's a slow mo playback? Huh??

"I'll be seeking forced adoption for myself and my older brother" GOOD BECAUSE BOTH OF THEIR PARENTS ARE NEGLECTFUL. THEY DESERVE TO LIVE IN A BETTER HOME, GODDAMN IT

Tl;dr: This play is insane and these two kids need a family that actually care about their interests and don't shut them down/force them to play football

[schoenpepper]

Happier (Ed Sheeran)

Intro: You were a mistake he'd made once upon a time.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread, reader goes to therapy, bad bad thoughts like im sorry, kinda depressing

A/N: Last one of the stock. Pretty sure this is the shortest one I've made so far.

Masterlist

Walking down 29th and Park

I saw you in another's arms

Only a month we've been apart

You look happier

It's years past your NRC days when you see Jack again. Slightly taller, more mature, and happier than you'd ever seen him before. With someone you'd never seen before. You shrink back into the booth of your table and watch as the wolf beastman takes a seat nearby, close enough that you can see them, but angled in a way that makes it harder for them to see you. You don't want to watch them, you don't want to trap yourself in the ever growing forest of misery you'd planted since the day you left him. You want to eat your dinner in peace, alone. But the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles shoots you with the same arrow you'd gotten hit by far too long ago.

And again, you see him.

The him who gave you flowers every other day and opened every door for you. The him who loved running with you and listening to you rant about whatever caught your eye. The him that loved you.

The him that was yours.

He's not anymore. But you still vividly recall when he was. The person you shattered in your clueless teenage years is pieced together into someone you don't know anymore but still recognize.

Saw you walk inside a bar

He said somethin' to make you laugh

I saw that both your smiles were twice as wide as ours

Yeah, you look happier, you do

Jack looks at you with a shy smile, hands gently holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. "For you. I like you, Y/N."

You take the flowers with a soft giggle and push yourself on your tiptoes in order to kiss his cheek. You're sure you're blushing as hard as he is, if not harder. "Thank you, Jack. I like you too." Your words push the pressure off his shoulders and his smile widens. Neither of you have really had romantic relationships before, but you think you can work it out with him.

He offers to take you out on your very first date to the movies. You two choose a stupid romcom filled to the brim with misunderstandings that eventually led to the leads breaking up at the end.

If only you'd know then.

You take him to your favorite place afterwards for dinner. He orders your favorite pasta dish and you try something new on the menu recommended by your waiter. You tease him to try that spaghetti scene from the movie, but the pasta breaks before you two can kiss. You laugh it off and finish dinner. It's raining really heavily when you two need to get back to campus, but Jack, ever the gentleman, gives you his coat to use as an umbrella and you run back to the castle soaking wet because of course his coat couldn't ward it all off. But you smile, and he smiles back, and you leave him with one final kiss before heading to your respective mirrors.

Ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you

But ain't nobody love you like I do

Promise that I will not take it personal, baby

If you're movin' on with someone new

"You guys look great together!"

"Oh this is insane, why did you get someone before I di—ow Deuce, what the fuck?"

"Don't mind him, Y/N, we're all very happy for you guys."

"I've always known something was up with the both of you!"

You take your friends' words as congratulations, shyly holding onto Jack's hand while you blush. "Thanks, guys."

Jack nods with a grin, the same soft blush covering his cheeks. "Yeah, I think we'll be very happy together. I've liked them for a long time now, so I'm glad our friends think we fit well together."

"To Jack and Y/N!" Epel raises his glass of apple cider. The rest of the group follow suit.

"To Jack and Y/N!"

'Cause baby you look happier, you do

My friends told me one day I'll feel it too

And until then I'll smile to hide the truth

But I know I was happier with you

Inky black thoughts crawled through your skin and into your veins; your bloodstream is self-made venom that wants nothing but to end you in your own mind. You hear the words whispered about you in every corner, but when you look, there's no one there. There is no monster sulking in the darkness except for you.

It's all you.

It was always you.

You look at yourself in the mirror and think about every other person that attends this school. Who are you compared to them? When they're all so powerful and amazing, where does that leave you?

"Y/N, are you okay in there?"

You rinse your face with water, hoping it masks your tears. The water doesn't hide your reddened eyes and nose, so you keep the door locked. "Jack! I'm fine, just need a sec. Go ahead without me."

When you're spiraling down into the abyss, you shouldn't bring your lover with you.

But if he holds out his hand to you, can you trust yourself not to pull him down?

Sat in the corner of the room

Everything's reminding me of you

Nursing an empty bottle

And telling myself you're happier, aren't you?

"I don't know Jack, I'm tired! I'm done!" You sob, scream, right where he pulls you impossibly close against his chest. Your hands ball into fists that weakly hit him. Your tears soak through his shirt. He takes all of it in stride. He's always so calm, isn't he? Even as you're dying and eating yourself up from the inside, he's always there to help you.

Why are you such a burden?

"It's okay."

It's not okay. You know that. He knows that. Neither of you can accept it. He runs his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe you. It doesn't work.

"We'll get through this."

Why is he always putting himself aside for you? You know you're making him miserable, but you can't help it anymore. You're just so selfish, aren't you? It's always about your problems. Have you never stopped to think about his?

"We can make it together."

Will you? You feel him slipping through your fingers. You're just weighing him down, everybody else too. Maybe if you were actually competent, he wouldn't be hurting like this, wouldn't have to always comfort you and kiss you and hug you and make sure you're alright.

"I love you."

You love him too.

But what if it isn't enough anymore?

(Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

Oh, ain't nobody hurt you like I hurt you (hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

But ain't nobody need you like I do (hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

I know that there's others that deserve you (hey, yeah, hey, yeah)

But my darlin', I am still in love with you

"I'm sorry, Jack."

You are.

"I love you."

You do.

So why is it that every word that comes from your lips feels like it cut through your throat and spilled blood? You're crying, why are you crying? You're the one hurting him. You're the one abandoning him. It's you, you're the problem. It was always your fault, never his. He's been nothing but kind and patient and understanding and you've always been such a chore. Jack Howl is a person who should end up with someone whole. Someone who had crystalline fractures at worst.

You. You've already cracked into shards. His hands bleed when they touch what you are now.

"Y/N, we can still fix this."

You shake your head.

You repeat your spiel.

You run away to avoid seeing his tears; the first ones you've ever seen him shed.

You love him too much to keep hurting him.

But I guess you look happier, you do

My friends told me one day I'll feel it too

I could try to smile to hide the truth

But I know I was happier with you

"What else do you feel?"

"Hatred."

"You hate him?"

You laugh. You're comfortably laid down on the soft couch, fiddling with your fingers. You glance at the middle aged woman taking notes on a clipboard. "No. I hate myself."

"And why is that?"

"Because I hurt him."

"How did you hurt him?"

This woman is starting to get on your nerves. You take a deep breath and remember the thaumarks you used to secure this session. You remember the faces of your friends who pushed you here. You remember Jack saying he wished the best for you even after you broke his heart. You need to do this. If not for yourself, for the people that matter.

"I pushed him away." You say. "I screamed and I cried and I broke up with him."

"Do you regret it?"

The familiar feeling of tears streaming down your cheeks makes you laugh again.

"No."

"Why not?"

"I would have only hurt him more."

Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah

Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah

Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah

Hey, yeah, hey, yeah, hey, yeah

You hide yourself behind the menu even when you know he doesn't see you. You don't think he'd even recognize you. But you hide, because even after all this time, you're ashamed of how you left him.

But you watch him, like in a hypnotic trance.

He and the person he's with finish dinner. You poke at your plate and think it's nice.

He's smiling.

He looks so happy.

Jack kneels on one knee next to the person he's with. Your heart hammers in your chest before swiftly dying, snuffed out like a candle. He pulls out a small box and a pretty ring and you're reminded of everything you could have been if you just knew how to take the hand he'd always offered.

Maybe now it would have been you with the ring and the fancy dinner instead of—

No. Don't think like this.

Jack couldn't have helped you the way you think he could have. You couldn't love someone when you despised yourself so much.

He couldn't have fixed you.

'Cause baby, you look happier, you do

I knew one day you'd fall for someone new

But if he breaks your heart like lovers do

Just know that I'll be waitin' here for you

You stand up and leave.

You think he catches your eye for one moment. You don't hesitate to keep walking. Tears blur your vision as you head back to your car. You sit there for a moment to collect yourself.

You shake every thought out of your head.

You loved him.

(You love him.)

You can't love him anymore. Not when he's moved on, and happy, and he no longer needs to pick up the pieces when you break every single time. You can't bloody his hands forever.

He's better off without you. 

[elly99]

pho-ever

Hanni was in Chicago for Lollapalooza. Just over five years ago she sat next to you everyday at school. Hanni was a Gucci ambassador. But in one of her pictures you see her wearing the socks you got for her way back when.

You were surprised to say the very least. It had been quite a while since you'd stopped communicating regularly. Maybe the occasional birthday greeting or 'how are you' only for things to fizzle out after a few days. Though you missed how it used to be, when not a day went by where you weren't talking, you understood that your lives were very different now. But still you wonder why she would do this now after all this time.

Would it be worth asking her? You did miss her after all. Why not ask an old friend how she was doing? You had nothing better to do at 3 in the morning.

"hey hanni! just wanted to ask you how you've been doing. i know you're probably quite busy right now so no worries if you can't reply right away. chookas for tomorrow!!"

You were going to leave it there and try to get some sleep, but to your astonishment she replies almost immediately.

"heeeyyy!! thank you!! i'm doing great! just a little nervous for tomorrow but i know it'll be fun. it's so nice hearing from you again!! how have you been? i was thinking about you recently"

"oh really? cuz i saw you posted a picture with those socks"

"yeah man! i'm never gonna lose these!! they mean a lot to me"

That hit somewhere deep in your heart.

"really?"

"what do you mean really? don't act surprised!!"

"well i am! i mean we don't talk as much as we used to. and you haven't been back in melbourne for so long"

"doesn't mean i'd forget about one of my best friends!"

"you still consider me that?"

"of course! don't you?"

"pho-ever hahaha"

"pho-ever ❤️"

You take a minute to think about what to say next.

"hey hanni honestly the real reason i texted was because i've been missing you a lot recently. i went through high school and i'm in uni now but after you left i just never had another friend like you. nobody ever got me like you did. and i know we've changed and grown up a lot since then but i feel like you'd still get me. you've always been special to me. so yeah i've just been feeling a little lonely lately"

Instantly you regret sending something so heavy. And your worry only builds as the minutes go by without a reply. But she surprises you for the third time that night. Because she's calling.

"Hey, brooo! It's been so long! It's good to see you again!"

You'd seen so many photos and videos of her since she debuted but there was something so strange about seeing her like this on your screen. She was the perfect juxtaposition of dazzling stardom and warm, nostalgic familiarity. She was still the Hanni you loved from all those years ago but it felt like you were meeting her for the first time again.

"Sup, bro," you chuckle. "It's good seeing you, too! I wasn't expecting you to call. Sorry I look like a mess. It's 3 AM."

"Oh, yeah! It's really late for you! Well, I just wanted to call quickly to say that I miss you a lot, too. You know being here in Chicago has had me thinking a lot. Like, it's hard to believe that I've come so far and I'm really so grateful and honored."

"But you deserve it, Hanni! You've worked so hard to get where you are now. I'm so proud of you, by the way."

"Aw, thanks, man! But, yeah. Sometimes I find myself missing the simpler days. Everything's moving so fast now and sometimes I just wanna go back to the old days of just messing around at school. With you and all our old friends. That's why I wore those socks. Just to remind myself of where I came from. Of all the people that are so important to me."

You catch yourself tearing up at her words.

"Hey, Hanni, we didn't ever say 'I love you' to each other, did we? I don't think that's something we ever said to each other. I mean, kids don't really have a good grasp of that, right? But as I grew older and realized just how important you were to me, I was like, 'Yeah, I love this girl.' So, yeah. Just thought I should say that," you laugh nervously at your sudden confession.

"And I love you, too! I guess my way of saying that back then was sitting next to you everyday," she laughs with you, her radiant smile easing your nerves. "I know I haven't been able to visit in years and I'm really sorry about that! But I promise as soon as I'm able I'll come see you. I'm also sorry I haven't kept in touch as much recently but I hope you know I think about you a lot. I'm sure when we meet up again it'll be like nothing changed. We can go back to singing What Makes You Beautiful like there's no tomorrow."

"God, I miss that."

You make eye contact and you recognize her look just as she recognizes yours.

"BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NOBODY ELSE!!!"

This time you laugh together and it really was as if nothing had changed.

"Speaking of what makes you beautiful, you should go get your beauty sleep. It's so late!"

"You're right. I should at least try to be a functioning human, right? But thanks so much for calling, Hanni. I really appreciate it. You're the best."

"Hey, no problem, man! I really missed hearing your voice. Reminds me of home."

You have no answer for her sweetness.

"And whenever you feel lonely, remember I'm always here, ok? Just text me any time! I'm always here for you. I'll do my best to send you my own updates from time to time as well."

"Alright, will do, bro. Have fun tomorrow! I know you're gonna devour it."

"I'll do my best!"

"You always do. See ya, Hanni!"

"Good night! Get lots of sleep, have sweet dreams and eat well tomorrow! Love yaaa!"

She was too good for the world.

After the call you smile to yourself in the dark. Deep down you knew that, no matter how much time passed or how much distance there was between the two of you, you both still had a piece of each other in your hearts. Since she left years ago she had gotten herself new jeans but she'd keep those old socks pho-ever.

[pekkhum]

Are you trans yourself or is it just your daughter? :0

And in any case, how is her transition going so far?

Sending much love <3

I think this will be more fun to answer via story time and the long mode answer:

Around the time of my 37th birthday I started seeing a couple incredibly hilarious and relatable memes about being trans go by on my feed. They were just so great that I found myself seeking out more and learning to understand trans folk more and more. I kept wanting to comment and holding myself back, because, of course I'm not trans, I just feel all the things trans women feel all the time and have struggled with those feelings since I was very, very young. Still cis, though.

There was eventually a day when the dam broke and I admitted online that I am trans, but it was three days later, while reading about internalized transphobia, that it all hit home. I had myself a nice little fit about how I didn't want to be trans, not because it is bad, but because the world makes life suck for trans people. (Actually, 6 months before, in the most egg moment ever, I told a woman that I had been thinking about how hard life as a transgender lesbian would be and that it would be much easier to be a straight guy. I was wrong for reasons most trans folk can guess.)

That day, I sat my child down to explain that I've realized that I am very much trans, that I have resources she can read to understand what that all means, and that I would let her other parent know, so she had someone else to talk to if she wanted. (Thankfully, we are peacefully divorced, so that wasn't an issue.)

I later found out that my child had devoured those resources, stolen one of my skirts my work-mom gave me (she's so supportive) and tried on names, pronouns, and skirts. It was a month later that she greeted me in the morning in a skirt and informed me that she was certain her feelings weren't something else and I discovered that I have a daughter! 😊

I was in the process of trying to get HRT and my insurance changed, then my health network intentionally and willfully screwed me over and yanked my chain, because they didn't want to provide a referral (it turned out to be owned by the Catholic church, here in America), but didn't want to admit their bigotry. I was forced to change health networks and get a new primary and wait months for a new appointment for a referral and my daughter's needs were similarly delayed, but she was even further behind! I had just gotten HRT when I was laid off and left with no insurance. This means I'm on an incorrect dose and my daughter hasn't gotten hers.

To make matters worse, our ADHD has made sitting down for voice training or learning makeup (it is so overwhelming!) difficult for us and we've not found others willing and able to help with the latter. My daughter has gotten a lot of nice clothing from her mama (I'm mom, the ex is mama 🤷‍♀️), and she just looks so cute, but she hasn't felt brave enough to present at school or anything. I'm hoping a GSA in college will help, but I'm making sure not to push her. She's still figuring out her personal vibe, but it seems to lean toward her mama's style, instead of my tastes, with just a few exceptions. Whatever she goes with, I'm proud beyond belief!

I joined a writer's group and only ever introduced myself under my unmistakably femme chosen name and everyone was cool with my very unfemme appearing dysphoria hoodie wearing self. I am grateful beyond belief. The dose may be too low, but the HRT has been very much working. Unfortunately, even freshly shaved with a straight razor, my beard is forever visible (I'm told a little blush or color corrector can hide that, but keep looking horrible when I try), but thanks to HRT, I at least saw a woman with a beard shadow, when last I walked into the bathroom. (Also, I fill out my sundress more, now!)

With family and friends, we are fully socially transitioned, though, and I am grateful, every day, for those we've been able to keep. It wasn't all, but it seems I'd already cut the problems, in advance. Also, we can both wear whatever around the house, so we dress for ourselves, at least.

We dressed up extra for our first Pride parade, though! I won't have a ton of opportunities to wear that rainbow skirt, but I love it greatly!

We are early in transition, with lots of problems yet to solve, but we are so much happier, so far. I'm finally alive and she finally cares about who she will be! We're also so much closer now and have opened up a lot more to each other. I adore my daughter and I'm so glad to be her mom! 💖🥲