#and when i brought that up like a month ish ago i was told that somehow. despite always being on the verge of autoimmune related death

[vivwritesfics]

LOVD MAC X LANDO C LITTLE MOUSE

Where they both fall in love with her and each other and everyone thinks that they are the ones calling the shots ( they are in the beginning) without realising that little mouse has the both of them wrapped around her finger

Like they would do anything ti make her happy

Including sharing and fucjing her anytime her Wants 👹

More frat you guys pls!! I beg (if its frat, ignore the requests closed sign lol)

Warnings: public stuff, smut, p in v, riding, voyer!max (ish), one man licks up another man's jizz, oral (fem!receiving)

"What're you doing?"

This thing with their little mouse had started off by just being sex. When Max had suggested they try to be something more, the two of them were hesitant.

I mean, this was college. Lando had every intention of plowing his way through college and she just wanted to get her studies done with and leave.

Max was a very observant creature. He noticed that Lando hadn't brought anybody else to the house since they started seeing her. He noticed that she always brought her 'goody bag' (her bag of books' so that she could stay a little longer after they'd fucked.

But they were both stubborn. It had taken weeks of pleading for them to even give it a try. But they did, and that was five months ago.

She sat herself on Lando's lap and pulled his cap from his head. She placed it backwards on her own and leaned forwards, lips against his neck.

"I'm bored," she mumbled against the skin. Each time he felt her teeth graze the skin, he was shivering. His hands came up to rest on her hips and squeeze.

With two fingers on his cheek, Lando tipped her face so that she was facing him. "Go and find Max," he mumbled, expression unimpressed.

She glared at him. A funny sight considering she was in his lap, in his house, wearing his cap. "I don't want Max," she almost spat, just about reining herself in. "I want you."

No, she did want Max. She wanted both of them, was damn near insatiable. But there was just something about the way Max stroked her hair and told her how pretty she was while Lando ate her out that put her in such a nice headspace.

Truthfully, she'd tried Max, but she knew he'd never cave first. Lando was the horny one, the one that woke them both up with his morning wood pressing into one of their backs.

"C'mon," she said, popping the button on his jeans. She reached her hand into his jeans and rested her fingers on his bulge. And then her lips transformed into a pout. "Please, Lan? I wanna ride it."

That fucking pout and he was a gonner. A sigh left his lips and he looked around the room for any sign of his frat brothers.

They wouldn't be the first to fuck on the couch, and they wouldn't be the last. Lando swallowed and looked at her. "You really want to do this, pretty girl?" He asked and reached out to push some hair behind her ear. It sprung free almost immediately.

She nodded and leaned forward again, lips attaching to that same spot on his neck. Lando released a sign from his nose and tightened his hold on her hips.

The idea of anybody (but Max) walking in and seeing her sat on his cock was enough to make him angry. But if that was what his mouse wanted, that was what she was going to get.

Grinning, she freed him from the confines of his jeans and boxers. She pushed her own underwear to the side (Lando could have spilled from the sight of that alone. Her so desperate for him that she didn't bother to take off her underwear) and sank down onto him.

A sigh left her lips when she leaned forward, rested against his chest. That first stretch was always just so oddly comforting.

"Shit, little mouse," he grunted. "Squeezing me so fucking tight."

Almost experimentally, she rolled her hips. She raised them slightly and brought them back down. Lando let out a whine and tightened his grip on her hips.

His hold on her hips helped to set the pace. He moved her slowly on top of him, the rhythm more rocking than anything else. It was barely enough for the both of them and he knew it.

He snapped his hips up and she cried out, loud enough to grab the attention of any of his frat brothers. Lando's hand covered her mouth as he tried to look around, tried to look at the bedroom doors. Both of them were still, silent, waiting for the moment one of his frat brothers came out and caught them in the act.

Up in his bedroom, Max heard the rather loud cry. He was sure the whole house did, but he recognised it. There was only one girl that made sounds like that. His girl.

Pushing his work away (because Max actually did study, unlike some of the others in his house) he stood up and strode out of his bedroom. He went to knock on Lando's bedroom door, but he looked downstairs first.

Just a glance, but there was his little mouse, holding Lando's shoulders as she bounced on his dick. Both of them were still fully clothed, but it was still a gorgeous sight.

As quietly as he could, Max walked down the stairs. He couldn't take his eyes off of them, off of how pretty she looked when he was coming apart above Lando, how pretty Lando looked when he was trying to stave off his orgasm.

Horny fucks hadn't bothered with protection, he realised as he looked at him. If Lando was to clench his jaw any harder, something was going to pop.

"Hey, little mouse," Max said gently. Lando's eyes widened at the sound of another voice, but he relaxed the second he saw max. "Why don't we let Lando spill over those pretty thighs of yours?"

Her nod was weak and Max pulled off. As soon as his cock was free of her cunt, he let go, spilling all over her thighs.

Their chests were heaving as Max placed her down onto the sofa beside Lando. "Let's get you cleaned up," he whispered as her head hit Lando's shoulder.

Max got onto his knees and pulled her legs apart. He kept his blue eyes locked onto hers as he leaned in and licked a stripe across her thighs, gathering Lando's seed onto his tongue.

Fuck, what a sight. Max on his knees between her legs, licking up everything Lando had given to her.

Desperate whines and pleases left her lips as Max got closer to her pussy. The way she was moaning his name, he couldn't not lick a broad stripe. She'd been so good, after all, she deserved it.

Her legs locked around his head, holding him in place, and Max didn't much mind.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Bring Me to Life

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: a fic about being the Winchester’s little sister inspired by the song Bring Me to Life by Evanescence. (Reader age isn’t specified but I was thinking like 10-13 ish?)

How can you see into my eyes like open doors?

“Y/N? Baby look at me, look right here. It’s Dean, I’m here.”

Leading you down into my core

Where I’ve become so numb

You’d been taken to hell by Lucifer over a month ago, and this was certainly not the first “Dean” that he had sent just to toy with you. He would get your hopes up only to reveal that it was just a fake; and then when you were almost out of hell, that’s when the fake would turn on you.

That’s when the pain would begin.

So when this Dean ran to you and grabbed hold of your shoulders, claiming to be here to take you home, you just stared at him, unable to find the energy to tell him to go away.

Without a soul, my spirit’s sleeping somewhere cold

Your vacant eyes stared right past Dean, and one look into your deadened features told Dean all he needed to know about your time in hell.

Until you find it there and lead it back home

“It’s ok N/N, it’s gonna be okay. I’m gonna take you home, I’m gonna protect you.”

You didn’t even acknowledge your big brother. That is, until he reached down to lift you into his arms. As soon as his arms were around you, you went absolutely feral.

“No!” You sobbed as you pounded your fists against Dean’s chest. “No, don’t take me!”

“Dean!” Sam’s voice came from the doorway to Lucifer’s throne room, where you were being held. “What’s going on? Someone’s gonna hear!”

“I-I don’t know!” Dean grabbed your hands to keep you from hitting him. “She-she’s just fighting me!”

“Don’t hurt me,” you begged. “Please, please, just tell Lucifer I won’t try to escape anymore, I won’t I promise!” You were hyperventilating now, still squirming to try to free yourself from Dean’s hold, but he could tell your malnourished body was starting to give out.

“Y/N, what are you talking about? It’s Dean, I’d never hurt you!”

“Wait,” Sam spoke up. “A few years ago, when I came here to get Bobby to take him to heaven, he told me that they kept sending in look-a-likes of you and me, just to torture him. She doesn’t know it’s you, Dean.”

“Baby, it’s me I promise,” Dean pleaded. “Just come with me, I—“

“Dean, we don’t have time for this,” Sam hissed. “I’m sorry, we just have to take her.”

Dean was torn for a moment, but he knew Sam was right. If they stayed here any longer, they’d be found out. Scaring you was better than leaving you here.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Dean whispered as he lifted you into his arms.

“No,” you whimpered. “No, I don’t wanna go, tell him! Tell Lucifer I’ll be good, I promise!”

“Shh, shh,” Dean hushed you as he followed Sam out of the room. “You’ve gotta keep it down little sister.”

Wake me up inside,

Call my name and save me from the dark

You stopped yelling as Dean carried you through the hallways, but he could feel you shaking in his arms the closer he got to the exit.

“We’re taking you home, kid,” he told you over and over, but it had no effect.

Bid my blood to run, before I come undone

Save me from the nothing I’ve become.

You didn’t seem to know what to do once the three of you made it outside. Dean felt your whole body curl in on itself when the sunlight hit you, and he found himself holding you tighter as he brought you to the Impala.

Now that I know what I’m without, you can’t just leave me

Setting you down into the Impala seemed to snap some life into you. Dean could see it in your eyes—those look-a-likes had never taken it this far, but you still didn’t trust it.

Once he’d set you down in the back, he moved to get in the driver’s seat, but your small hands clenched around his arm, your terrified eyes snapping up to him.

“Hey, it’s ok. You’re safe now.”

But you just held on tighter, like you were afraid he would disappear if you let go.

Breathe into me and make me real.

“Ok, ok.” Dean tossed Sam the keys before gently pushing you further into the Impala so that he could sit next to you. “I’m not going anywhere sweetheart, I promise.”

Bring me to life

Wake me up inside.

You flinched as the Impala roared to life, and Dean held you when you leaned closer to him. You didn’t speak, and Dean watched as your eyes darted around, like you thought all of this was an illusion and you were just waiting for Lucifer to drag you out of it and back to hell.

“We’re taking you back to the bunker, Y/N,” Sam said, making sure that you knew what was coming next so that you weren’t any more uncertain than you already seemed to be. “You’re gonna be safe there, I promise.”

Bring me to life

I’ve been living a lie

There’s nothing inside

Bring me to life

Once you reached the bunker, Dean stepped out of the Impala and just waited. After a moment’s hesitation, you climbed out after him, still looking around warily.

You held onto Dean’s hand as he led you into the bunker, and Sam trailed right behind you so that you didn’t have to worry about anything coming up behind you.

I’ve been sleeping a thousand years it seems

Got to open my eyes to everything

“Honey, do you want me to take you to your room?” Sam asked, leaning down to your eye level.

You looked around the bunker for a moment, taking it all in before nodding to Sam.

“Ok.” He smiled when you reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck. Sam carried you into your room and set you down on your bed.

“Sammy?”

“There she is.” Sam grinned at the sound of your voice. “You ok, honey?”

“Is,” your voice cracked, and you gripped into Sam’s hands. “Is this real?”

“Hey.” Sam pulled you into his arms, rubbing your back as you clung to him. “Of course it’s real. We got you out, your safe now. Nobody’s ever going to hurt you again, I promise.”

Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul

Don’t let me die here, there must be something more

Dean was just thinking that he should check on you and Sammy when he heard your scream from across the bunker. He made it to your room in record time, shoving the door open to reveal Sam shaking you awake as you thrashed around in your sleep, still screaming.

“Y/N, hey!” Dean stepped up next to his little brother and grabbed hold of your shoulder. You bolted upright with a cry, your head whipping back and forth as you took in your surroundings.

“Hey, hey it’s ok,” Sam soothed. “You’re in the bunker, you’re ok.”

“I’m right here,” Dean added, grabbing your hand. “You ok?”

You struggled to breathe, your breaths coming out as whimpers as you cried.

“Dean?” You called out finally after a minute.

“Yeah, hey baby I’m right here.”

“De, I’m-I’m all wet,” you mumbled, still crying.

Sam turned on the small lamp next to your bed, and sure enough your hair was plastered to your face with sweat, your dirty top soaked through. But it was more than that—the sheets under you were soaked—you had wet the bed.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

“Hey, don’t apologize,” Dean soothed. “It’s not your fault, let’s get you cleaned up baby.”

Bring me to life

Wake me up inside,

Call my name and save me from the dark

Sam switched your sheets out with clean ones while you got into the shower, cleaning off all the sweat and blood that you’d been too exhausted to clean off when you first arrived.

As soon as you were out, Dean was waiting outside to help you dry off and change into your pajamas.

“That’s better.” Dean smiled reassuringly at you as he dabbed at your face with a towel, drying off some of the spots you’d missed. “You’re safe now, kiddo. I promise you.”

“Will you sleep with me?” You asked, holding onto Dean’s shoulders for stability as you swayed a little from exhaustion.

“Of course.” Dean lifted you into his arms and carried you over to your bed.

“It’s all clean now,” Sam said as he helped Dean tuck you in. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna go make us some food for when you wake up, but Dean’s gonna stay here with you. Is that ok?”

You nodded, your eyes drooping from sleep.

Sam left to make you some food as Dean pulled you gently into his arms. You rested your head against his chest, falling asleep to the gentle thump of his heart.

You’d been through a lot, but with some overbearing TLC of your big brothers, you would be ok.

Bring me to life.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

@mrvlxgrl

[lvis44]

Sweet Escape - Prologue // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N - focusing more on a friend group in this section

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, slight jealousy? , age gap-ish (being friends with older people), possible language, not edited

Word Count: 1.2k+

Summary: A little backstory on how you found the friends you now consider family, all leading up to the group trip Lewis has planned and an unpleasant surprise that may come with it.

Notes: This is a prologue to a short series I have been planning. This part was written in a bit of a rush and ended up being longer than I had planned. It's not wonderfully written, the next parts will be much better. Part 1 of the story should be up later today and can be read without reading the prologue, this is just some backstory and context. I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy!

Two years ago you stumbled into a group of tight knit friends, people you are now lucky enough to call family. You had just moved to a new city where you didn’t know a soul, yet somehow you were lucky enough to meet Charlotte. You met through work and she quickly took you under her wing. She introduced you to colleagues, brought you to lunch for work gossip, but most importantly knew when work had been tough. Those days she would show up at your apartment, usually unannounced, carrying a bottle of wine and junk food. She was like the older sister you never had. When she told you she wanted to introduce you to her other friends, you were incredibly nervous. You knew they were all older than you and if they were anything like Charlotte, they were very well off. You tried to explain that you didn’t want to intrude and that you really wouldn’t fit in. She was persistent and you truly couldn’t let her down, so you finally conceded. The shock you had felt when you finally met everyone was astronomical, multiple faces that you recognized, from models to professional athletes, nothing that Charlotte had ever mentioned. The one that had you the most starstruck though was Lewis Hamilton. You’d grown up watching him race, yet there he was, sprawled across Charlotte's sofa with a drink in his hand and a kind smile on his face. You had only been allowed to sit in your shock for mere moments before they were all warmly welcoming you, peppering you with questions and joking around as if they’d known you for years. They managed to not once make you feel out of place, despite the fact that they were all older than you and had been friends for nearly ten years. It had been a natural progression; them inviting you out to clubs, over for dinner or game nights, getting added to group chats. You became a fixture, part of the family. 

At the beginning of the year, Lewis asked everyone to go on vacation while he was off for summer break. It wasn’t really a question, when Lewis was available, everyone dropped everything to see him. He was a rarity, sure he always kept in touch, but text messages and facetimes were nothing comparable to actually having him around. He made all the arrangements and informed everyone of the plans before you had even had time to agree. It was never lost on you that all of your friends were extremely wealthy, vacations like this were nothing foreign to them, but you never wanted to feel like a burden. Being considered a gold digger was the last thing you ever wanted. You didn’t know how you were going to pull it off but you knew you had to, you hadn’t seen him in more than two months now. While you tried to figure out how to scrape together the funds, you texted him and asked what you owe, bracing yourself for the number. His response had been simple and sweet, “Are you crazy? All I want is your company, miss ya :)”.

You had grown shockingly close with Lewis over the short period of time you’d known him. The night you met everyone you had found yourself alone with him, making drinks for everyone. Despite having calmed down, being in his sole presence had brought back all of your nerves, and he could definitely tell. You had ended up blurting out that you were a big fan, gushing like a maniac about his career. He had been kind, just chuckling as you rambled. When you realized what you’d done you quickly switched to apologizing, embarrassing yourself even further. He had laughed it off, shrugging before saying “It’s good to know I have somebody to talk to about racing.” He had asked for your number that night, saying he needed it to bore you with technical talk after races, and he did just that, not that it ever bored you. Every time you saw him you were greeted with a big hug before he asked for the rundown on everything that had been going on in your life. He was always protective of you when you all went out, keeping an eye on you from a distance while you danced in clubs, making sure no one ever tried anything. There had been a few times that you found yourself in the passenger seat of his car, giggly from the alcohol you consumed with your friends, he never let you take an uber, insisting it was far too dangerous for a young drunk girl late at night. He usually stayed relatively sober during the season, only having a drink or two all night, and never drinking during race weekends. He would carry you to bed, despite the fact that you could walk perfectly fine. Each time you fell asleep with a kiss on your forehead and woke with a bottle of water and a packet of aspirin next to your bed. He’s definitely a flirt, you noticed it the moment you met him, but you couldn’t tell if there was anything behind it. It always frustrated you and it never helped the crush that felt to be constantly growing. He’s an attractive man, painfully attractive at that. There have been more than a few times that you have all been hanging out around his pool, where you can’t help but watch the way the muscles of his back ripple under his skin. The main problem though, was he always seemed to have some sort of entertainment. You had met many models over the time you’d known him, all the definition of beautiful, but they only tended to last a few weeks at most. It was rare you would meet someone more than once or twice. You assumed he would have someone with him on this trip, he usually did.

Your suspicions were confirmed just a few days before the trip, he had sent out a full itinerary, including a guest list. There, amongst your list of friends, was an outlier, shockingly it was a name you recognized, a rare repeat for him. You couldn’t help but feel a little nervous, the last time you had met her she seemed to dislike you very much, and she hadn’t made it particularly subtle. You had been the recipient of many a poisonous stare, scoffs of disapproval when you talked about work, but more importantly nasty glares anytime you had the attention of Lewis. Unfortunately there was nothing you could do about it, you had never told him how she had treated you, mostly because you thought you would never see her again. You were in no place to tell him now, you felt it would be rude seeing as you were going on this trip on his dime. The only person that knew what she had been like was Charlotte, who immediately texted you making sure you were okay. You assured her it would be fine and to not bring it up, you were planning on ignoring the girl as much as possible and enjoying some quality time with your friends. You couldn’t help but snort when Charlotte tried to assure you the girl probably wouldn’t even last the whole week. 

Everything would be fine.

[irisbleufic]

YOUR 3 CATS ARE SO CUTE OMG! How old are they/what are their stories?

Like many young-ish queer married couples, @one-eyed-bossman and I entered the fast track to pet parenthood in 2020. I was still recovering from extensive cancer treatment at the time, which is part of what makes our first kitty especially meaningful to me.

ZEL

Zel is my darling girl. She’s now 5 years old, and when we adopted her in June of 2020, she was already 1 year old. After being rescued on the streets at a few weeks old with her two personable siblings, she spent an entire year at this lady’s house with like 20 other cats at any given time. She was feral and unapproachable, but somehow I was able to get close enough to her at the rescue to pick her up and put her in the carrier. She nailed me with her claws in the process, but that’s the only time she’s ever hurt me or anyone else. The day after we got her home, I stuck my hand behind the bed in her safe room, and she set her little paw square in my palm and left it there for about a minute. I spent a couple of months crawling halfway under the bed to pet her while she was curled in her bed, and eventually I could get her to follow me around the house by asking, “Do you want to go for a walk?” She barely left my side after that. I spent a lot of 2020 sick in bed; she always curled up snugly between my ankles or my knees. She’s now the smartest cat I’ve ever met. Her language recognition shocks me even after 4 years of having her as a silly little shadow who likes to play fetch with her pink-eared mouse toy. She’s stuck to my side any time I’m on the sofa, and about a month ago she climbed fully in my lap for the first time. Her meow is barely a whisper when she does use it (only to talk to me and occasionally to the TV), but the trills, squeaks, and yowls she makes to talk to her toys are hilarious. She doesn’t even talk to her siblings like that. Unlike many white cats, she is not deaf.

NICKY

We got Nicky a year after we got Zel; he was about 8 weeks old when we brought him home in June of 2021. We met a kind lady who periodically bred her lovely Bengal queens, and Nicky was somehow a “non-show-quality” (?!!) discount kitten. He’s sweet, goofy, vocal, afraid of everything/everyone that’s outside the house, and occasionally very naughty. We hoped he would bring Zel the rest of the way out of her shell, and it worked. He just adored her from day one. She took a few months to warm up to him, but they bonded pretty fast. Now, at 3 years old, he’s a big boy—17 pounds. He likes to stand/sit on laps more than he likes to lie down in them, although he will lie down in mine a couple times a week. He brings me granola bars from the cupboard and loves trash more than he likes his toys:

EMBER

We hadn’t planned on a third cat, but the universe insisted. I mean that quite literally. On 31 July 2022, my mother died at my sister’s place a couple of states away. The morning she died, me and my four siblings took a walk around my sister’s neighborhood. We split up and went slightly different ways; my sister and her husband called me as I was getting back to the house to say that a tiny, tiny crying kitten had run out of the bushes toward them. My sister didn’t know what to do; one of my nieces is very allergic, and we were all burnt-out from dealing with Mom’s passing and the funeral home taking away her body. I told her to bring the kitten back to the house, because I was too grief-stricken to let another thing die that day. Out on the porch, I fed her milk from one of the droppers we were using to give my mom morphine, all the while making desperate phone calls to local rescues. After about 3 hours, a local vet with specialty in caring for bottle baby kittens came to pick her up. She told me that, because I didn’t live too far away in the grand scheme of things, she could foster the baby until she was old enough for me to arrange transport to my home state. There was no way I could walk away from that little baby, so I got regular photos, videos, and updates from her foster mom until I could arrange transport about 5 months later (she came home in December of 2022). She has grown up to be the feistiest tortie I’ve ever met. She has far longer hair than I ever could have guessed, and even now that she’s 1.5 years old, she has very short legs (longer end of munchkin, our vet says!) and an overall smaller stature than her siblings. She fucking adores Nicky, and he has never once played too rough for her given the size disparity. He lets her chase him, jump on him, bap him into play fights, etc. She will cry and cry at night if we don’t pick her up and carry her around before we close the bedroom doors (they get to sleep in the bedroom sometimes, but not always; Nicky likes to knock picture frames off the wall in there, and I’m not about exposing them to broken glass).

[decayedgloria]

losing myself in your forever

ft. Childe

There is a secret that you keep from your lover, but there may be more than just your identity that lies hidden between you and him

Tags: Childe x afab!reader, adeptus!reader, morning sex, smut only in the beginning, fluff, somewhat canon compliant, cursing, nsfw, platonic!zhongli, fwb (ish?), use of russian/chinese nicknames, pwp, praising, may make a part 2, this is much more plot than I am used to, mdni, nsfw under cut.

Word Count: ~2.6k, not proofread

The early morning rays shined softly into the bedroom you laid in, snugly tucked into the arms of your lover. You lazily traced his freckled forearm as you hummed, contentedly listening to his shallow heartbeat as he slept. 

This scene was not unfamiliar to you. After a night of lustful entanglement, you always wake up in Childe’s arms, your limbs tangled with his as you recount your liaison with a hazy grin. More often than not you always awoke before him, which gave you ample time to take in the sight before you.

Waiting for your lover to rise was one of the few things you came to enjoy after the first few times you were in bed together, watching his battle-worn chest rise and fall with each breath as his peaceful face rested. His face was not usually so, it was filled with mirth and bloodlust during the day, but in these rare moments of tranquility, they were a world away.

As you kept humming, you felt him stir under you, finally waking up. You gave Childe a small smile when his eyes opened, revealing the prettiest blue hues- something you’ve always attributed to uncut noctilucous jade.

“Good morning my love.” You place a chaste kiss on his lips, which he returned in slow earnest. Grinning, he brings a hand to cup your face as he does, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. 

“Morning, kotichek.” His voice was still low and raspy from the night before, sending delightful shivers through your veins. Hearing him speak in his mother tongue certainly didn’t help, either. Your eyes bore into his as you kiss him once more moving to sit up on his lap, earning a chuckle from him.

“Has anyone ever told you that you sound so alluring when you say that?” You cheekily press your chest against his, teasing him just a little. Your hips were angled in a way that hovered your cunt just above his already-hard member, and you bore your eyes into his own half-lidded ones.

“Only you.” And your chest swelled with pride, just a little, at his words. Whether or not it was true, you didn’t care. As your lips touched Childe’s once again, all you knew was that in this moment he was yours. 

Never in your thousand years of living have you had someone like this. Someone to hold you so tenderly as he slipped into you, soft groans emanating from his chest. His hands were firmly on your hips, rocking you gently as you continued to kiss him, albeit sloppily. Your hands tangled themselves in his ginger hair, pulling him closer to you as he devoured you.

Being an adeptus was usually a lonely experience. Living in solitary in Jueyun Karst had given you no experience with humans and human emotions whatsoever. While you weren’t completely alone, sometimes you craved interaction with someone who wasn’t an adeptus as well. Which brought you to Liyue Harbor months ago, against the will of Cloud Retainer and your brother, you still went to the city to search for anyone, really, who was willing to be your friend.

Who knew such a cute Snezhnayan boy eating at the same food kiosk as you could be so much more than that?

Your pace became faster and more erratic as you both felt your orgasms come closer. Now you were practically bouncing on his cock, moaning his name as his hands traveled across your body, pinching and squeezing every crevice.

“You make me feel so good, kotichek…” He groaned, pressing his head into your shoulders. “Pussy’s so good only for me, right?” Unconsciously pulling him closer to you, you grind your hips deeper into his as you continued your pace, a light sheen of sweat beginning to form over your body as you do so.

“Yes, yes- only for you! Ah- your cock feels so good inside me…!” You whined deliciously. Childe grinned hazily at the sight of you, taking in how you writhed against him in pleasure. His hands made their way to your breasts as he gently kneaded them, rolling with your nipples in between his thumb and index finger.

It only took a few more thrusts for you to reach your high. You threw your head back, almost screaming, while your cunt squeezed his cock- causing him to cum inside you. Panting, you keep your position on top of him, slumping in his arms as he catches your breathless form easily.

Childe plants a kiss on your shoulder blade, holding you in his arms tenderly as your body recovers. “Did you enjoy it?” He always asked you that question, even if he already knew the answer. From your shaky legs to your puffy lips, he could already tell; but Childe preferred when you told him directly.

“I always enjoy my time with you, tián xīn.” The name, which used to be unfamiliar to you, came easily across your tongue now that you’re in front of him. You suddenly sighed, rolling over to the other side of the bed to let him get up and ready for the day.

“You aren’t gonna get ready?” He asked as he swiped his scattered clothes off the floor, getting ready to take a shower. “Not busy today?” 

“Mm… it’s not like I can walk anyways, so no. Not busy.” You shook your head, a light chuckle escaping your lips. Childe laughed in response, something that never failed to make your stomach do flips.

“You did ask for it, kotichek. I’m just simply here to deliver.” Your thighs were starting to sore and burn, though it was nothing compared to the wounds you’d been dealt during battle. Not that Childe would ever know about those, or about the fact that you weren’t human at all. 

It’s for the better, you reasoned with yourself. Had he known, you doubted that he’d stay with an adeptus like you. Immortal, forever living while he would most likely die in battle or due to age. It saddened you, just a little, that it was the reality you had to face sooner or later, but just for a little bit, you can keep this charade going.

You were lost in your thoughts when Childe waved his hand in front of your face, causing you to blink. You hadn’t realized you were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you completely missed him finishing his shower, and now bidding you goodbye.

“Thought I lost you for a sec.” He cheekily grinned, giving you a kiss on your forehead. “What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing… it’s nothing.” If he noticed how quiet your voice was, he didn’t show it. Instead, he kissed you again, this time on the lips. “I’m going to see my brother today, I think. I might visit him at work.” You gave him a reassuring smile, “Be safe, tián xīn.”

His expression dipped a little as you said that. Unbeknownst to him, you knew he was a Fatui harbinger. However, they can’t all be bad, right? Certainly not him, who showers you with warm kisses and the sweetest affections when you’re together. Childe said so himself that he would die before ever thinking about hurting you, so what’s there to be afraid of?

“I’ll try, kotichek.” He gave you one last kiss before exiting the room, closing the door behind him gently. You sighed once more, sitting on the edge of the bed to dangle your feet while your thoughts rant rampant and your chest tightened with every breath.

Perhaps consulting your brother would give you a solution.

-

When you stepped into the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor to ask for your brother, Hu Tao all but gawked at you from behind the counter.

“Mr. Zhongli? You’re his sister?” You had never met the young girl before, so it wasn’t surprising for her to look at you with such… curious eyes. Her gaze made you feel like you were laid out on an examination table, being investigated for some sort of anomaly. You shook off the feeling as you returned her smile politely.

“Yes. I was wondering if he’s in right now?” The girl shook her head, pointing a solemn finger to the double doors.

“Aiya, he’s out on personal business right now. I think he said he was in Liuli Pavillion?” Hu Tao brought her hand to her chin, thinking. “That’s probably where you can find him. But, aside from that, would you be interested in pre-ordering a coffin for your funeral?” You look at her quizzically, seeing as her expression was bright and mischievous despite talking about your death.

“Ah, no thank you. That won’t come for a long time.” You smile nervously, getting ready to leave the parlor.

“Never say never! After all, our archon just died, so really it could be any of us next!” You shook your head.  Was this really how they advertised? It was a bit crass; you wondered if they had any customers at all at this rate. 

Making your way into the restaurant, you find that your brother’s meeting hasn’t started yet, giving you some time to chat with him. As you walked in, your brother was sipping his tea, opening his eyes to look at you.

“Gēge, how are you?” You greeted the man politely, “I hope you aren’t too busy yet.”

“What a wonderful surprise, mèi mei. Please have a seat, my meeting won’t begin for a few minutes.” His reassuring smile calmed you a little as you pulled out a chair, sitting on it before letting out a relaxed breath.

“What’s been troubling you now, little rascal?” You perked up at the nickname, the tips of your ears turning pink. Was your expression really that obvious? Zhongli only chuckled at your reaction, looking at you expectantly.

“I- Well, uh…” You weren’t sure how to begin your question, or even if you should ask it at all. Nervousness coursed through your body under his watchful gaze, eyes flitting around the room as you try to steady yourself.

“In all my years of knowing you, you have never been this shy. Tell me, what’s gotten to you this time mèi mei?” Now he was concerned, shifting towards you eagerly as you take a deep breath.

“Well… I’ve taken a mortal lover…” Your voice became quiet, red suddenly blossoming on your face as you look down in shyness and partial shame. It was a bit embarrassing to admit to Zhongli that fact but considering the rest of the adepti and their feelings towards humans, you hoped that he was at least understanding of your situation.

“And I don’t know if I should continue it or not. Y’know, since I’m not exactly mortal and all… Basically, how do I tell them?” 

“Hmm…” Zhongli thought for a moment. You couldn’t make anything of the expression on his face, but you hoped he wasn’t disappointed or angry. It wasn’t likely, but when it came to you, he was awfully protective; you were his precious sister, blood or not.

“What’s their temperament? You cannot know how they will react if you do not know their personality well enough,” He concluded, “Do they at least treat you well enough?” That sentence was laced with a dangerously low tone, his golden eyes suddenly darkening at the thought of someone hurting you.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that, gēge- he’s wonderful.” A small smile graced your features as you thought about Childe. “He’s thoughtful, considerate, he’s a lot of fun. He’s also quite handsome, I’d say.” Zhongli relaxed a little, yet again sipping his tea as he listened to you ramble on about your lover. 

He would be lying if he said you weren’t cute at this moment, who would have thought that his rambunctious, troublemaker sister would have found someone who she cherished in that way? The thought warmed his heart. Perhaps a meeting with this individual was in order.

“...and he always gets me the foods I love from Xinyue Kiosk.” You hadn’t noticed you were rambling until Zhongli cleared his throat, snapping you out of your small tirade. Sheepishly, you silence yourself rather quickly, listening to what your brother had to say.

“If he is such a good man, with a good temperament, and loves you so, then you have nothing to fear mèi mei. Humans are simple creatures, after all.” He gave you a small smile, which comforted you just a little. His response managed to convince you of telling Childe, and you decided that the next time you would see him would be the time to do so.

“I am curious about this mortal. Do you wish to introduce me to him someday?” 

“Yes, of course. I’m also curious if he’d meet your expectations, gēge.” You let out a giggle, thinking about the meeting already. Childe wouldn’t know that Zhongli was an adeptus, much less Rex Lapis, so you were confident that he wouldn’t be intimidated away. Though, you had to be sure that your brother wouldn’t pull any fast ones on him…

Suddenly, the door to the restaurant opened, and you could hear footsteps of multiple people walking in. Probably your brother’s guests. You stood up from your chair, as did Zhongli, as you both got ready to bid each other goodbye.

Your brother pulled you into a warm embrace, which you returned. “Make sure to inform me of your decision, mèi mei. Until next time-”

“Hey.”

You break away from the embrace hastily, not wanting to embarrass your brother in front of his guests. As you whirl around, you prepare yourself to bow apologetically to them, until you caught a glimpse of who they were.

There he stood. Childe, looking just as surprised as you were as his eyes darted between you and your brother suspiciously. Behind him were two others, a blonde outlander wearing foreign clothes, and a floating child. It felt like an eternity that you both stood there in shock, only being able to look at each other until Zhongli cleared his throat once again.

“Welcome. Pleasure to see you again, Childe.” He greets them, casting a side glance at your agape expression. “Please, let’s have a seat. My sister was just about to leave so we can start discussing our pressing matters.” 

When you said you wanted Zhongli and Childe to meet, you didn’t mean as soon as possible. No, not like this. Not during a business meeting- wait. Him being here… that meant Zhongli already knew Childe. Ah, you weren’t sure if that made the situation easier to handle or not.

“Yes. I was leaving, sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll take my leave now.” The words practically fly out of your mouth as you rush past Childe and his party, missing his hurt gaze following you as you did so. He wanted so badly to follow you and ask you what you were doing here, were you really Rex Lapis’s sister? Who were you, exactly?

Zhongli noticed everything. From the way you tensed up when Childe entered the room, and how you seemed to avoid him when leaving. You were never one to do that, you always took the time to chat even a little. And Childe… the look on his face when he saw you indicated something to Zhongli that there was something going on between the both of you. How his gloved hand twitched to the direction you left in, almost instinctively, and how his eyes followed you across the room.

The adeptus closed his eyes for a brief moment, the twitch in his eyebrows so subtle that it almost seemed like it didn’t happen. Under the guise of pleasantries, his golden eyes stared right into the harbinger’s soul, almost wanting to claw through him as he talked apprehensively.

Of all the people in Liyue, why must it be the fucking eleventh harbinger?

i am exhausted. this fic was born out of three restless nights. i need sleep.

Anyways sorry that this isn't like a simple one shot :/// i had a jam going and i needed to write it out. i think there will be a part 2 tho, like very likely, but it'll be much more angsty bc i need to practice writing angst lol

expect a sundress szn for some other characters in the future, working on one rn

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

am i the asshole for standing near the back of a Black artist's concert as a white person?

this happened last year and it's bothered me ever since. so i'm a fan of a Black musician and went to my first show of his last year. it was a small venue, only about 300-ish capacity. i like standing at the back of crowds for my own comfort, and when i went to see him i did the same as i usually do, relaxing at the back with a drink. this artist's fanbase is also mostly Black, and i admit i also stood at the back to give his Black fans a chance to get closer to the stage as i know they connect and relate to his music more, as his songs are heavily about the struggles of being Black in america, something i don't and can't relate to, but i still enjoy him and his music a lot. anyway, the show was great, he's an incredible performer, but when i brought the show up to my friend she got really cagey and weird with me, saying that being in the back during a Black performer's set was racist and weird, like i didn't want to be seen listening to a Black artist. i was fucking baffled by this and asked her to explain her reasoning and she just said standing at the back like that showed disinterest like i didn't really care about him or what he was singing about and that i was ashamed to be listening to Black people??? (important note that this friend is also white by the way) when i told her the reasons i did stay near the back, she changed her opinion to say that i was infantilizing his Black fans by saying they need to be up front like i was coddling them. this made no sense to me but it did stick in my mind ever since, i try to acknowledge any internalized racism i have as a white person since none of us are free from it, and i would feel terrible if what i did was an act of internalized racism that i didn't realize. i no longer talk to this friend for other reasons, she ended up having a lot more unrelated batshit insane takes that i just couldn't handle and she also took any chance she got to attack and belittle me, and i dropped contact with her completely a few months ago. but this one incident has been gnawing away at me ever since it happened. i know this all comes off as white guilt-ish but i really do care about these things and try to be as best of an ally as possible.

What are these acronyms?

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy!

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 4

The girls refused to speak to you because of how you defended Buggy. They still thought he was rude and didn’t like him, and they didn’t understand why you’d defend him. They were also mad because not only did they have to clean the kitchen twice that night, but Miss Pins had them sort fabric scraps by color before organizing all the threads the same way over the last few weeks. The final act of punishment was organizing all the pins and needles by length and gauge. 

They didn’t think it was fair. 

Had you been in charge you would have dismissed them from their apprenticeships entirely. 

Yes, Buggy was loud, had been rude each visit to you and Miss Pins but he was a pirate and all the shop’s customers were pirates. A lot of them were rude to you and Miss Pins, some even threatening, but he was also becoming a repeat customer and overpaid you each time, and when you brought it to the attention of Miss Pins, she let you keep the extra amount because you took on helping him. 

Honestly, and you didn’t want to admit it to your boss just yet, but you liked Buggy. So far he hadn’t tried to flirt with you, act inappropriately, or threaten you. Countless others had since the day you started as an apprentice. Miss Pins was protective of her girls, having no problem pointing a gun at any pirate creeps should they make her apprentices uncomfortable. Buggy was loud, demanding, but he wasn’t a creep.

It had been a month since you last saw Buggy and you figured that you weren’t going to see him again. Why would he return to the shop after what the girls had said? You felt bad about it and wished you could have talked with him a bit more, but he took off so fast that you didn’t get a chance to. 

You still had his socks that you fixed for him and even secured him an extra pair. Maybe he’d stop by to pick them up? You weren’t going to hold out a lot of hope. No doubt he would be on his ship, sailing for treasure or adventure, forgetting about the incident a month ago. 

Hopefully.

The shop was closed for the evening but you were still working when you saw him again. You wanted to get extra work done before taking a few days for yourself to celebrate your birthday. The girls originally wanted to do something with you but now that they weren’t talking to you, you got to do whatever you wanted. 

You were going to go to a nearby lake and feed the ducks while enjoying a packed lunch. 

The pounding at the door startled you. You grabbed a broom to protect yourself as you approached it and looked through the peephole. You saw the bright red nose and immediately relaxed as you opened the door, smiling at him as he stood on the doorstep.

“We’re closed, you know.” You told him teasingly. “We’re not a clinic where you can stop by whenever you need me to fix something.”

He looked flustered as he tried to think of a response, but you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the shop, closing the door behind him as you headed back to your work. He followed after you, looking around at the different bolts of fabric on shelves, the trays of thread, and several dresses that hung on a rack behind the counter. You took a seat and gestured to the other chair as you picked your sewing back up.

“You left your socks, you know.” You said as you passed the needle through the fabric. You were finishing up another dress for a customer, attaching the bodice and skirt together with piping along where the two pieces met. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back for them.”

Buggy sat down and crossed his arms, turning his attention to what you were doing. Your fingers were careful as you worked, your fingernails guiding along the piping to keep it in place as you sewed. He didn’t think you actually made things, just repaired them, so he watched you for a moment before responding.

“I had other socks.” He mumbled as you removed a pin and stuck it into your little pin cushion. “I… was going to come back.” He glanced up at your face, seeing the look of concentration, and looked back down at your work. “Why are you up so late?”

“Why are you at the shop late?” You countered as you stuck a pin in your mouth before repositioning the fabric. He hesitated and looked away. “Surely not for your socks, Buggy.”

“I… was out on a walk.” He replied as he clenched his jaw. “And I saw the light on and thought maybe you were being robbed.”

You took the pin out of your mouth and stuck it back through the layers of fabric. “And you knocked so kindly.”

“I don’t have-”

He stopped himself and took a deep breath, trying not to overreact. You were just teasing him, trying to rile him up, but there was no malice in your voice. He looked back at you and saw you were smiling at him and his heart skipped a beat and his face was warm. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“I just wanted to stop by and… say hi. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Well, hello and good evening then.” You chuckled. “What would you have done if Miss Pins answered the door with her shotgun?”

“I’m not scared of her!” Buggy shot back. You looked over his shoulder and grinned.

“Good evening, boss.” 

Buggy spun around, eyes wide, but you laughed. There was no one there. Oh, you were cruel. He turned back around and glared at you. You were still laughing as you set your sewing down. Buggy huffed and looked away from you with a glare on his face. 

“Sorry, sorry.” You giggled as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “As for your question about why I’m up so late… My birthday is in two days so I want to get as much work done as possible so I can relax.”

“Oh, birthday?” He repeated. Girls liked getting gifts. Should he get you a gift? Why would he get you one? He looked back at you as you picked your sewing back up now that you had calmed down from laughing. What kind of gift would he get you if he was to get you something? He was a pirate, he could go find some treasure and give half to you, but would that be weird? Why was he even considering that?

“Mhm.” You nodded. “I’m going to go feed and watch the ducks and have lunch.”

“Ducks?” Buggy laughed. Ducks were not exciting, but if you liked them, he would take you all around to show you all the ducks in the world if you wanted. “Just duck watching, that’s it?”

“Yea.” You frowned when he laughed. It wasn’t really anything to laugh about. You didn’t need to do something exciting to enjoy yourself, just sitting and taking it easy was enough. “It’s something I like to do, Buggy.”

“It’s your birthday, though! You should be going out and doing something fun!” He said. “Drinking, having a party, something like that! Go on a raid or something!”

“I’m not a pirate, Buggy.” You reminded him as you looked back at your sewing. “I’d rather do something quiet.”

He leaned back in his seat and watched you with a frown. You lived in a town frequented by pirates, you had to be used to what they got up to, so why would you want to do something as boring as watching ducks? Maybe you were just never given the opportunity to do something fun. Buggy would change that.

“How about we-”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence because he saw you look up, eyes widening at something behind him. He wasn’t going to fall for that again so he rolled his eyes. “The old hag’s not there, so don’t try and trick me again.”

THWACK

“Get the hell out of my shop!” Miss Pins barked as she raised the broom up again. “Do you realize how late it is?!” 

Buggy fell out of the chair and dodged the blows from her broom. He almost made it to the door before she threw it at his feet, tripping him up as he scrambled. She stormed over to him and grabbed the door, pulling it open before pointing out. 

“It’s too late for you to be coming around!” She snapped as he hurried out the door, but not before he looked back at you for a split second. You were still in your chair, looking rather amused by the whole exchange. At least you weren’t frowning at him anymore. Maybe he could sneak back around for your birthday. He just needed to find out where the ducks would be.

Miss Pins slammed the door behind him before rounding on you. “Stop encouraging him!” 

“I haven’t done anything!” You exclaimed. “I’m just being nice to him!”

“That’s encouraging him! I don’t need another lovesick pirate after you, Sunny! He’s as bad as the last one!” Miss Pins snapped. “I can’t keep chasing these pirates off!”

“He’s not like the last one!” You shot back. “And he’s not lovesick, he just needs a friend, Miss Pins. It’s not like he’s asking me to marry him every time he sees me!”

Your boss glared at you as she locked the door and picked up the broom. The last one wasn’t like that until the fifth visit, where he had demanded you to marry him while you were fixing his coat. You were only 19, the man was almost ten years your senior and if your boss hadn’t been there, who knows where you would have ended up. She wasn’t going to lose you then to that man and she wasn’t about to lose you to some nobody pirate. 

“He’s not welcome here anymore.” Miss Pins told you. “And next time you see him you tell him that.”

She left after that, returning upstairs without another word, leaving you alone to think about what she said.

[whatthefishh]

Arty Boy

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Words: 1.9k; part of the Oxford Comma series but can be read alone I guess

Warnings: no smut but mature themes-ish, mentions of sex and intimacy, fluff, soft Rydal, bickering, rich people shit, a glance at their relationship over a few months

“No, you’re not allowed to smile at me like that.”

“Wha– I wasn’t smiling like anything!” he countered.

“What, what is it? What are you hiding, you’ve got that look on your face when you’re hiding something from me,” you threw the sweater of his that you were holding, into his suitcase where you were currently packing his things for winter break.

You had spent the last few weeks of spending almost every day together, learning each other in your own way, asking the deep cutting questions first and following up with asking what his favourite colour was. Rydal was gentle when he asked you about where you grew up, his petty comment all that time ago about your hometown at the forefront of his mind. You told him everything there was to know as you lay on top of his chest, tracing your finger in mindless circles on his skin while avoiding eye contact. You had asked him what he wanted to do with his life. He didn’t have a straight answer.

“Not become my father,” he had muttered.

“What does that mean?”

He never did answer your question now that you thought about it. You were brought back to the present when he got up from his place where he was lounging on the bed like some antiquated forgotten prince in his prime. He sure looked the part, was bred into the role. Moulded for it really. The way his hair flopped into his eyes was surely a gift from the gods themselves. Rydal opened one of his desk drawers and reached inside, pulling out a book before turning to you with that disarming stare of his.

“Since I have to leave you in this cold, dreadful, lonesome building for the holidays–”

“Okay, relax, I won’t be entirely alone–”

“–all by yourself, without me–”

“–Eleanor is staying, too, for fuck’s sake I already mentioned this–”

“–I got you something,” he finished without the flourish you were expecting.

Rydal presented you with the book in his arms, brandishing the title as if he were an old-fashioned tour guide in Europe, arm movements and all. Cheeseball. It was an early edition of Pride and Prejudice, one of your favourites – ridiculously well kept and the pages hardly creased from lack of use. The binding was perfectly intact and you were almost afraid to take it from his hands, eyes darting between the title and his face in shock.

He brushed off your reaction and protests, insisting that you took it off his hands, that you’d be doing him a favour really, and that he had no use for it. You hardly believed him but accepted the gift nonetheless, noticing the way his chest puffed out with pride at your excitement over it, and cherishing what must have been a family heirloom that he so freely handed over to you.

///

The next time Rydal got you something that made you slightly nervous to accept was in February. It was before Valentines, the two of you choosing to ignore the ostentatious and offensive holiday in favour of just passing midterm season. He was so casual about it, leaving it in your bathroom cabinet with your other cheaper toiletries in its original packaging, slapping the tiniest pink bow you’d ever seen on it so you’d know it was from him. You don’t even remember telling him about it, the Chanel bottle glaringly out of place amongst your other drug store products.

You made sure to wear it the next time you saw him, and you fucking knew he was waiting for you to with the way he pressed his nose into your neck and deeply inhaled as you greeted him. If this was another game of his, you weren’t going to be the one to back down and admit you squealed and showed it off to your roommate.

You probably shouldn’t have done that last part. Eleanor was already jealous enough as it was, complaining that her boyfriend still hadn’t made reservations for the cringey celebration.

Rydal made sure to be extra handsy that day, taking any and every excuse to lean into your personal space and show his appreciation that you wore what he bought for you. Which, okay, fine, you liked that you had that effect on him but he was bordering on hedonistic as he mouthed at you. Not that you were complaining but you definitely pushed him away a few times out of fear of him sucking a bruise onto your skin in broad daylight.

You made sure to spray the perfume all over your body the next time you saw him, fully expecting him to go batshit and not let you leave his dorm.

///

Towards the end of the semester with the prospect of summer looming over your heads, you felt more and more needy towards Rydal. You were not only stressed about the end of your second year, but finals and the fear of not seeing him for the next four months despite his plans and promises. Not only were you stealing his t-shirts that carried his scent with them, hoarding them away for lonely nights, you were also playing your hand with his other possessions.

You began wearing anything and everything at least once for fear of his memory leaving you in the short time you were away from each other. This ended up with you rifling through his closet while he showered, trying on different sweaters and blazers before finding a pair of sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket of one of his jackets, tossing it aside quickly before trying the classic Raybans on.

Which is exactly how he found you, looking at yourself from different angles in the mirror and seeing if you could pull off the heavy metal frames. If only they were just a tad smaller. Sighing, you deposited them into his outstretched hand, his subtle smirk going unnoticed by you.

Rydal thought this side of you was hilarious, he knew exactly what you were doing when you thought you were subtly tucking his shirts away into your bag before leaving. He found this new behaviour incredibly endearing, especially since you refused to admit that the time away from him was going to be a problem anytime he asked.

It’s not that he didn’t feel the same, no, he definitely wasn’t looking forward to the month you’d have to spend apart. He was afraid of the morning he would have to wake up in his childhood home without the option of you being there, or just a couple minutes of a walk away. Just the thought of it made his stomach churn uncomfortably but he refused to think about it.

A week after the awkward sunglasses incident, you received a nondescript brown package to your dorm. Thinking it was for your roommate, you left it for Eleanor on her bed without a second glance. You didn’t order things to your dorm, you were fucking poor.

When she picked it up, she scoffed at the shipping label before walking it over to you, muttering something about Sebastian needing to step his game up. Looking down at the package again, you saw that it was addressed to you. You ripped the package open in confusion before lifting the spectacle case out of the bubble wrap, your mind immediately jumping to your stupidly well off boyfriend.

Inside the case was the matching women’s version of the frames he owned, the same ones that were just a bit too large for your face. You hated the swooping feeling you got while putting them on.

///

Summer was upon the both of you before you were ready. You had to say your goodbyes, temporary or not, you couldn’t very well go home with him and he wouldn’t last a day in your life. You just had to wait until you met up in June, at his family’s summer home. There, you’d spend a month or two, depending on how uncomfortable you were in the presence of other nepo babies.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re suffocating me, right?”

His voice came out muffled against your shoulder which was currently pressed up against his mouth from where you had thrown your arms around him.

Pulling back to press your foreheads together, his hands came up to hold your face between them.

“I’ll be back under your skin before you know it… hopefully under you before either of us know it.”

///

When you saw him again in June, you were a nervous wreck. The pressure of not only seeing him outside of your normal routine of school but also in the presence of his family and other privileged kids, some of which went to school with you both, was making you unnaturally quiet. Rydal, of course, noticed.

“C’mere, baby, gotta show you something.”

“Rydal, we can’t have sex in the pool changing rooms,” you started.

“No, what? Ew. What the fuck— ew, no! I’m not that easy—“

You made a face.

“Let’s not get into how easy you were for me—“

“—not fair, you should’ve seen yourself—“

“—practically begging me to suck you off—“

“—you know I like when you say the word suck—“

“—why did you ask me to follow you in here?”

Rydal reached into his pocket, thick hands pulling the already tight fabric even more taught causing your eyes to openly ogle his thigh. It’s been a long month and a half away from each other, you couldn’t help it and you weren’t drooling, okay?

He pulled out a small blue box, the distinct colour of it starkly contrasted against his sun kissed skin. Robin’s egg blue. No, that’s not quite right. Tiffany blue. Tacky white bow on top.

Your heart stopped beating.

“Rydal, what— I can’t accept whatever is in that box,” you were stuttering and your eyes were most definitely welling up.

“Hey, hey. It’s just an early birthday present,” his arms came up to pull you closer. “I… I like buying you things. Pretty things. You deserve them, baby, will you at least let me show you?”

He was being uncharacteristically gentle with you, out of place in the echoing changing room by the pool. Well, that’s not entirely true, was it? Rydal showed you his gentle and soft side often, however, it was usually masked with a bratty comment here and there. If you let yourself take the time to remember, he had been showing you kindness from the day you met him, ready to forgive you for ruining his best friend’s stark white shoes.

And that’s the thing with Rydal, he was always going to be soft for you, even if he covered it up with messy words to make you frown at him. He never wanted you to grovel for him or his money, never expected you to treat him any differently for all the pretty things he bought you, for all the liberties he granted you.

Looking up into his doting eyes, you found him waiting for your response, if you would let him buy his girlfriend a birthday present. To grant him permission to adorn you. You nodded hesitantly.

He was excited to open the box and take out the tennis bracelet, a delicately bejewelled thing. He was eager to clasp it around your wrist before watching you admire it.

“Do you—“

“I love you.”

[lllostgirlll]

@justasightseer I FINISHED IT FINALLY! So this didn’t go how i wanted it to, it was going to be a bit more oc-ish, but i do like the direction i took it. Yet another one based off of a dream i had.

TLK: King Alfred x Modern!Reader

“I’m telling you i don’t know! All I remember is waking up in a field when these LARPers grabbed me and hauled me here!” I raised my voice, exhausted physically and mentally.

I was telling the truth, i don’t know what elaborate Ren-Faire i had stumbled upon, but they were taking it waaaayyy too seriously.

I was getting tired of it.

The “King” raised an eyebrow, his face remained neutral. His wife, I assumed, glared at me. If looks could kill, everyone in the room would be dead.

“Steapa, find a room here for our guest. Keep a close eye on her, she is not to leave until I allow it.” King Alfred ordered, eyes never leaving my face. I tried to keep from blushing, he was quite handsome. “Lord King-“ his wife began. He put up a hand silencing her. ‘Wow. Rude.’ I thought.

Steapa grabbed me by my bicep and started dragging me out of the hall. I started shaking as we went through the doors. I was so tired. I was so scared. “P-please, where are we going?” I asked. I tried to put on a brave face but my eyes were watering. He looked down at me, his gaze softening ever so slightly. “King Alfred ordered me to take you to your room. That is where we are going.”

That happened at least a month ago.

I wasn’t sure how much i believed this elaborate Ren-Faire, i’ve heard of a couple lasting at least a month. But they never broke character. Ever.

During that time, King Alfred himself would come to my room to personally question me. He was incredibly intimidating. And smart. And handsome. The guards stationed at my door handmaidens passing by would whisper about how odd it was that King Alfred himself would question me.

One day, He entered at his usual time, around lunchtime. But there were no guards with him…Weird. He began to just… talk to me. Not interrogate, talk. He asked me about my strange clothes (ha) and if all women wore them where I was from. We talked for a while. He left for dinner and I was brought a plate shortly after. After that, that’s what happened on a regular schedule, he would come in and we would just… talk.

One day, after we had grown closer, he asked, “Do you read by any chance?” My eyes lit up a little. “Dude, I love reading!” He smiled very briefly, still not used to my language. He suddenly stood up. “Follow me.” He ordered. I followed him, excited because he barely let me out of that stupid room, nervous because I didn’t know where he was taking me (and i would never get used to the guards that followed us). We arrived at a large double door.

He opened it and I couldn’t help but let out a small gasp.

In the room there were scrolls. Everywhere. And a few tomes. I stood there and took it all in.

The King watched my reaction, what I didn’t notice was the soft smile on his face. “You read where you are from?” He asked again, curiously. “Only those of noble blood, most often men, are permitted to pursue education.” He stated. I was a little surprised. I told him about where I’m from and that almost everyone has access to higher education. Almost.

We sat down at a table and talked for hours. Eventually he set a scroll down in front of me. “Read.” He demanded nonchalantly. I unrolled the scroll and paused. There was no way i could read this.

I recognized some of the letters, but it looked like someone had a stroke while writing it.

“I-Uh…” I started. He raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?” “N-No… Well yes…” I stammered, trying to make some sense of the writing in front of me. “It’s just so different. This looks like nothing I’ve seen were I’m from…”

He moved to stand behind me and he peered over my shoulder. I was only slightly flustered at our close proximity, but i brushed it off, too focused on the words on the scroll.

He hummed in acknowledgment. “That won’t do. Tomorrow you will be tutored by our royal scholar.” He said offhandedly. “H-Huh?!” I looked up at him in shock. “Is there a problem?” His voice, cool as ever, responded. I gathered myself and shook my head. We eventually got to talking but only for a little while, before a guard entered. “My Lord, Uhtred is here.” The guard said, bowing. I looked at The King and I picked up on his very, very brief look of mild annoyance. He orders me back to my room and that was that.

Over the course of a few months, I attended lessons every day. Sometimes The King would enter and shrug the scholar off, telling him to act like he wasn’t there. That he just wanted to see my progress. He wanted to see my progress. He was a distracting presence. And that jerk knew it.

Other than my studies, over the course of these months, I had been allowed more access to the palace. I would sit in the gardens, occasionally seeing The King. I caught him staring at me a few times. And one thing that happened during these months, is that I was developing feelings for him.

It was so wrong. He has a wife, and I would hear some of the servants whisper about his escapades with some of the servant girls. I brushed them off, not wanting to dwell on it.

Until one day.

I was in the scroll room, I was always there brushing up on my studies. I noticed what looked like a little trinket sitting in one of the windowsills so I moved to get a closer look. I heard the door open behind me but I paid it no mind. Believing it to be one of the priests or scholars.

As I was looking at this strange trinket, I felt a presence behind me. Oh so closely behind me.

“How are your studies?” The King’s voice asked softly behind me.

I couldn’t answer, I noticed if i had moved even one centimeter back, I would be touching his chest. I was too flustered to speak, I could feel my face heating up. “You could stay with me… if you would like.” He whispered, I could just barely feel his lips on the shell of my ear. I could feel the heat radiating off of him. I licked my lips, about to turn around and respond.

A priest burst into the room, hurriedly explaining something about someplace named “Beamfleot.”

I felt The King sigh before collecting himself.

I turned and watched him leave the room, but not before pausing at the doorway and giving me a brief, hungry look.

(Sooooo how did my 2nd ever fanfic go 🙈 @solinarimoon @morosemagick @errruvande @kingslionheart @malewifebillcage ???)

Edit: missed a few words. fixed i think.

[exiordinary]

So in my post about Wanderer Collei parallels I think I mentioned that I have a Collei redesign that aligns more with how I imagined she’d be as a playable character back when I first read the manga. I made this around four-ish months ago, and I swear I’m gonna make so much about my little sgrungle.

I made a shit ton of notes too so here’s all of those notes!!

-electro vision

-main weapon is spear, bow in burst kinda like how Raiden’s becomes a sword in her burst

-bad temper, often found doing breathing exercises to calm down

-told the traveler to keep her updated on how things go when they get to Shneznaya

-eleazar scales!! I was so sad when she didn’t have those

-cobra motif in attacks, in reference to her sealed archon power

-scars here n there, most of them are covered by clothing

-still in therapy

-closer with Cyno than Tighnari

-NOT in fact a forest ranger !! Part of the adventurer’s guild :D

-has an unusual obsession with being able to protect herself

-typically leaves conversations when archons are brought up

-would prob be besties with Wanderer (im gonna make so many doodles of them)

-visits Mondstadt for every major holiday

-Knights of Favonius emblem on leg ribbon thing

-been learning to sew and knit, been struggling due to muscle stiffness from eleazar

-night terrors (much less frequent as of late !!)

-very slow metabolism, but it’s been speeding up a bit since Tighnari’s been helping find solutions

[e-dubbc11]

The Sweet Spot

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: None really. This is pure fluff, maybe a swear word or two, actually nope, I don’t think there are any. Oh there is a drug reference, sort of.

Word Count: 2.3k-ish

Summary: You and Billy are invited to a picnic and you offer to bring dessert and wine. Billy offers to help you bake

A/N: Using the prompt “Oh I’m sorry. Was that too much?” Part of the writing challenge that my lovelies over on the Thirsty for Cox server decided to do for the month of March. I’m a little worried this might be a little boring so I’m sorry if it is but it is all kinds of fluffy. I hope you like it. Oh there is an I Love Lucy moment in this too.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The iPad was turned on and in its stand on the kitchen counter, baking ingredients were spread out all over the counter space. Everything meticulously placed in the order they were going to be used in as well as all of the utensils and your stand mixer.

A few weeks ago, the Castle family told you and Billy about a picnic they were going to be having at their house. You offered to bring a dessert and wine, but what to make? Scrolling through countless recipes on Pinterest, you were just overwhelmed with everything.

Of course, Billy tried to help you with your search. He loved chocolate and the Castle children did also so when you were trying to figure out what to make, Billy had a suggestion of his own. “Can you make something with chocolate, sweet girl? You know how much I love chocolate.”

A cunning smile spread across his face, he’d always get you with that smile.

“You know Lisa and Junior love chocolate too so I think you’d be the hit of the party if you made something with chocolate.” Said Billy.

In a sarcastic tone and narrowing your eyes at him, you replied “So what you’re saying is…I should make something with chocolate.”

He shook his head, still smiling and said “Ah, there’s my daily dose of sass. Can you go one day without saying something sarcastic?”

“Have you met me?” You asked with a laugh.

Billy just leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours. “I’m sure it will be delicious, whatever you decide to make my love. It always is.”

He knew exactly what he was doing, flashing his perfect smile, gazing at you with his beautiful deep brown eyes, he was very convincing so you waved the white flag and decided to find a recipe with plenty of chocolate in it.

Not long into your search, you stopped on a recipe for blackout chocolate cake. It’s always a risk trying a recipe for the first time and bringing it to someone’s house as opposed to something you’ve made before but the recipe sounded too good NOT to try.

Reading off the ingredients, you’ve never made a cake with some of these before but it sounded delicious with components like dark cocoa powder, coffee, buttermilk, regular cocoa powder and the ingredient you were waiting for because you asked Billy to pick it up on his way home from work today…cream cheese.

You turned on your music, put your apron on and started in on making this cake when you heard keys in the door…Billy was home. He called out to you when he walked through the door. “Lucyyyyyy, I’m home!” Oh, Billy Russo never failed to bring a smile to your face. “You home, baby?”

“I’m in the kitchen, handsome.” You replied.

He called out to you again. “I brought home pizza and cream cheese, NOT mixed together.”

Billy walked around the corner, placed the pizza on the dining room table and brought the cream cheese to you in the kitchen.

He loved coming home to your smiling face. “You saved my cake, baby. Thank you for picking this up for me.” You said.

“Anything for you, my love. You look adorable in that apron, by the way.” He said, pointing his long slender finger at you. The apron was black with white ruffles, it looked like a French maid’s outfit.

Feeling the warmth in your cheeks, you knew you were blushing and tried to shy away from him but he pulled you in flush to his chest and tilted your chin up so he could look into your eyes before he captured your lips with his.

Moving his hands up to your face, he cupped your cheeks and continued to kiss you, his tongue slipping into your mouth to tangle with yours and his fingers tracing the soft skin of your throat all the way down to your hips.

“Oh no, ya don’t.” You pulled away even though you didn’t want to. “I have to finish this tonight, the picnic is tomorrow ya know.” You said, pointing a finger into his chest.

He laughed a little as he moved his gaze up to the ceiling and back down to you. “Alright, alright. I know. Can I help, love?” He asked.

His question took you a little by surprise. Billy liked to cook, but he wasn’t really a baker, it was a sweet offer though. He seemed to be in a playful mood tonight, so it could be fun.

“Well roll those fancy sleeves up, Mr. Russo. Put an extra apron on and let’s get to it.” You said.

Billy turned around to find the only apron left that wasn’t dirty was another one of yours that had ruffles and lemons all over it. “Wait…are my aprons dirty? This is the only one left?”

You slipped the apron over his neck and your hands moved to tie it around his waist with a sly smile on your face. “I guess you’re stuck with this one, Billy.” You took a step back and eyed him from head to toe. “You look good in lemons though, baby. Love the ruffles.” You said, trying to control your laughter.

“Ok, boss I’m ready. What would you like me to do?” He asked.

You led him over to the iPad where the recipe was. “Can you mix all the dry ingredients together in a bowl for me, please?” You asked.

“Dry ingredients, I’m on it, baby.” He said.

You left him alone to read the recipe and you pulled up the recipe on your phone so you wouldn’t have to fight for the iPad. While Billy put together the dry ingredients, you whisked together the wet ingredients.

Maybe you should have paid more attention to Billy when it came to the part where he needed to add the dark cocoa powder but it completely slipped your mind and by the time you looked over at his bowl, it was too late.

It looked like he added WAY too much to the bowl because when you glanced down at the bowl, all of the ingredients mixed together were the same color as Billy’s eyes. It just looked like a bowl full of dark cocoa powder and nothing else.

“Ummmm…Billy? How much cocoa powder did you put in there?” You asked.

He gave you a side smirk like he knew he did something wrong but it was definitely on purpose.

“Well…I put in a cup and a half.” He said.

The recipe only called for ¾ of a cup.

“Billy Russo!!” You playfully scolded him like a child who took a piece of candy without asking.

“Oh I’m sorry. Was that too much?” He asked as he tried to stop the laugh that was escaping his mouth.

You glared at him and folded your arms across your chest.

“What?” He said, shrugging his shoulders. “It didn’t seem like enough, and besides no one ever died from having too much chocolate in their cake.”

You tried to stop yourself from letting out a chuckle and the not-so-innocent look he had on his face made it hard to stay mad at him.

“Billy, baking is precise. There’s a reason why everything is perfectly measured out.” You told him.

“Soooooo, you’re saying I put too much in.” He said sarcastically.

“Now who’s being a smartass.” You said.

You rested the bowl and the whisk on the counter then snaked your arms around Billy’s neck as he just continued to grin at you.

“You’re lucky you look so cute in that apron. You’re gonna need to fix it though, my love.” You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“But that means I’ll have to start over.” He said.

You stared at him with wide eyes and a big smile. “Thank you.”

“Jeez, tough crowd…ok I’ll start over.” He said, sounding defeated.

Billy dumped out everything he had in the bowl and started over.

Keeping a closer eye on him this time, you watched as Billy carefully measured out every ingredient just like he was supposed to. Your eyes darted from your bowl to his, back and forth until he put the last ingredient in the bowl.

“You wanna watch me put the cocoa in, baby?” He asked.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” You said, biting down on your lower lip.

You wanted so badly to snap a picture of him while he was concentrating on measuring everything, wearing the lemon apron and his dress shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He still looked so handsome, it made you love him even more because of how willing he was to help you. Maybe it was because he was getting a chocolate cake out of the deal but it was still really sweet.

“Ok, dry ingredients…done.” He said.

You poured the contents of your bowl into his and mixed everything until it was all combined. You asked Billy to grease the cake pans for you and line them with parchment paper.

While the two cakes were in the oven, it was time to make the frosting.

“What’s next?” Billy asked.

“We’re making frosting.” You told him.

He looked at you a little confused. “I thought frosting came from a can.”

“Oh baby, no. Homemade frosting is so much better and it’s super easy to make.” You told him.

You started by mixing the butter and the cream cheese in the stand-up mixer. Next, it was time to add the powdered sugar which Billy wanted to do.

“Ok, now just add it carefully because if you don’t, it goes—“

Too late.

Billy dumped in all the powdered sugar that had been measured and sifted and it went all over the place. It landed in his hair, your hair, all over the counter, on your faces. Standing there stunned, the mixer was still going, throwing powdered sugar everywhere, and both of you started cracking up laughing.

“Baby, I am SO sorry!” Billy exclaimed.

There was nothing to do except smile and laugh. “It looks like the movie Scarface in here.”

While you let the sugar settle, you added the rest of the ingredients you needed for the frosting. After mixing everything together, you turned the mixer off and dipped a finger in to taste your handy work. It really was delicious.

Grabbing a spoon out of the drawer, you gathered a little more of the frosting on the spoon so Billy could taste it. “Billy, we’ll clean up after we’re done. It’s ok.” He was frantic, trying to clean the powdered sugar off of the counter, the floor, and the mixer. “Taste this, baby.”

He stopped cleaning for a moment as you stuck the spoon in his mouth. Billy’s eyes went wide, he dropped the towel he had in his hand and pulled the spoon out of his mouth to see if there was any more frosting on it so he could lick it clean.

“Has frosting always been this easy to make?” He asked. “This is really good!” Ready with the spoon, Billy asked “Can I have some more?” He raised his eyebrows and smiled wide.

You smacked his hand away before he could get another spoonful of frosting.

“Ow!” He recoiled his hand. “Please?”

“I need it for the cake, Billy.” You said, chuckling a little.

The oven timer went off and taking a toothpick, you checked the cakes to make sure they were done in the middle. When the toothpick came out clean, you removed them from the oven and set them on the stove to cool.

Billy’s eyes darted from the cakes, to the frosting, and then to you. “Soooooo do we frost the cakes now?” He asked with excitement in his voice.

“Oh they’re too hot right now, baby. They have to cool all the way before we can frost them.” You said, inching closer to him. The gap between your bodies was small as your body was almost flush with his and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Thank you for helping me tonight, Billy.”

“You’re welcome, sweet girl. I’m sorry I made a mess.” He said with a slight look of guilt on his face.

You joked with him. “You’re supposed to make a mess while you bake, it’s a rule I’m pretty sure.”

That seemed to make him feel better.

You couldn’t help but stare at Billy. The powdered sugar still sprinkled throughout his hair, all over his apron, the streak of flour across his cheek, and the tiniest amount of chocolate in the corner of his mouth—all of it made your heart swell. Billy didn’t know much about baking, yet he offered to help you anyway and you wanted to thank him for it.

Raking your nails against his scalp, you gazed into his intense brown eyes and pulled his face close to yours so you could press your lips to his. Gentle at first, he kissed you back then slipped his tongue between your lips, moving you slightly so your backside was against the kitchen counter.

His body pressed firmly against yours, you moaned softly against his mouth, pouted a little when he pulled away, but he continued to kiss down your neck and across your chest.

“You taste so sweet, baby.” He said with a wink. “But it looks like I missed a spot when I threw powdered sugar everywhere.”

Billy dusted a little powdered sugar on the tip of your nose and started to untie your apron, flashing you a mischievous smile.

“Well…since we don’t have anything to do until the cake cools off, let’s go get all that powdered sugar off.” He said as he finished taking your apron off and letting it fall to the floor, the deep V of your white t-shirt exposing the skin on your chest as he leaned down to kiss in between your breasts and taste the sweetness of the sugar that managed to find its way inside your shirt.

You pulled away slightly, laughing a little. “Ok, stud. I’ll go turn on the shower.”

Billy smiled a clever smile before kissing you again hungrily and whispering against your mouth.

“Who said anything about WASHING it off, baby?”

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @on-ya @k-marzolf @nutmeg17

Others that might enjoy: @fluffyprettykitty @itwasthereaminuteago @officialjanetsnakehole

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕

[evesaintyves]

for @remadoramicrofics 10/5 prompt, "Midnight." Nine 100-ish word drabbles. Read below or on AO3 🍻

 

1

The streets are shiny with all-day drizzle and they double the colour of the neons and the traffic lights and and the creature-eyes of cars. Young girls flocking down the avenue like calling birds. The fuzz and whine of a band tuning. And Tonks's eyes are smokey dark—Remus can't tell if she leaned into a mirror to line them with kohl, or simply squeezed them shut and changed them from within—and her lips are like glossy red lacquer. She's smiling, pulling his lapels to make him stumble into her. He's stumbling. He's letting it happen.

 

2

It's already midnight and he's due at work by four. He's just started, hasn't been paid yet, so Sirius is buying drinks. If she knows, she's been nice enough not to mention it. It's been months of this uncomfortable charity and Remus has been lying awake thinking of what happens when it dries up. The plan is to squirrel some cash into the bag he keeps always-packed out of habit for whenever things fall apart; the reality is, he's never been good at that. There's always some crisis or some hundred small exigencies eating his savings until they're gone.

3

He's thought about telling her. Not just tonight because he needs to get some sleep, but because he entertains a silly fantasy of her dropping by when it's slow, of slipping her an espresso and one of his chelsea buns, and her delighted face: Lupin, you made this? Leaning over the counter, playing with his apron strings. It's idiotic, and it's not how that would go. There'd be questions ( working for muggles? Do you need the money that much? ) and there'd be the tacit admission that this, baking rolls and tweezing biscotti into piles, really is about the best he can do.

4

She mentioned, once, that she worked at Madame Malkins' for four days before being sacked.

Well, she said, cracking a licorice snap, it was partly because I altered the uniform—horrible long frumpy thing. I made it shorter, nipped in the waist. I also made it lime green.

And... the other part?

Told a customer to suck my dick.

She played the line completely straight, which made him laugh so hard he inhaled a mouthful of the crisps she'd brought him, and the two of them had sat chuckling, in the dead of night on a surveillance mission, for an absurdly long time.

 

5

But when he thought later about the various reasons he'd been sacked—too ill to work, or worse, too ill and showed up anyway, bosses thinking he was dopesick or high, bony arms and knackered clothes making it hard to argue—it left a sour taste in his mouth. He has smiled through rudeness, through undisguised smouldering contempt, to keep a paychecque coming in. Dignity is a luxury.

When they stop for pizza the place is slammed, the slices take an age to reheat, and Tonks rolls her eyes and mutters unbelievable when the kid hands over their greasy paper plates.

 

6

There was a girl at a bar, long ago when he was twentyoneish and still trying, who pulled at his clothes quite like Tonks is and let him kiss her in the fog of last-orders cigarettes outside. He was drunk, absolutely trollied, and when she yanked back from kissing him to look him in the face he could see that she was too.

You reek of chips, she told him, and hailed a cab.

He'd lost his job at the chippie moping about it in bed all week. Fifteen years later, he still worries that he has that stench on him—not just of shit work, but of desperation. Loneliness.

 

7

She buys an entire packet of fags to smoke one and throw the rest away.

I'll smoke them all if I don't, she shrugs. Three hours until work. He's sobering up, but she still has this glow about her, luminous and hazy as the bar-lights reflected on the street.

I ought to get you home.

Out of money?

Er—

She presses up against him. Her smoke gets in his eyes. There's no lipstick on the cigarette butt; it must just be her.

I don't want to go home, she says. I'm having fun. I could kick around on the street with you for hours.

 

8

He almost tells her, then, standing by the rubbish bin on the corner, bass vibrating the pavement, being jostled by hen-nights and lads in packs walking four-and-five-abreast. But tonight has been so lovely he'd like to preserve it under glass, keep it on a shelf, look down into the electric colour of it forever. If he told her, there'd be fumbling explanations, she'd muster herself to seem excited for him, the way she does. Not tonight. Not this one night.

So he bends to kiss her cherry lips instead.

He hates the taste of cigarettes. Still, it's heavenly. She slides her hands under his jacket and around his back.

 

9

Four-sixteen. He flips the switches. Fluorescents buzz like a headache. He's late because he indulged himself to brush his teeth and shave. Buns out to proof, then into the oven. Coffee grinding, that head-clearing smell. Closing shift left the milk out. Down the sink.

Before he flips the OPEN sign, when it's dark outside the windows and the café is just a bright box in a black void, it's easy to imagine: the bun fresh and steaming, her blue fingernails clinking on the little espresso cup. She takes a bite, makes a tiny wordless sound. Closes her eyes, lost in pleasure.

image by me

[hphmmatthewluther]

Back By Midnight: Operation OBSERVATORY - Part 1/4

(A/N: And we're back! I know I've been on hiatus for....a while...but uni and stress is finally all behind me and I can spend this summer writing as much as possible! And so we're back with Back By Midnight! This chapter features @camillejeaneshphm 's wonderful oc Camille!)

Taglist of peeps who might be interested (lemme know if you want to be added or removed!): @akaisenhatake​ @camillejeaneshphm​ @catohphm​ @fangirl-screaming​ @rosachaotic​ @ag907​ @nikyiscreepy​ @oseathepebble​

Matthew Luther has been brought into the mysterious Midnight Foundation, but before he can become a fully-fledged agent he must prove himself in their training program. Determined to help solve the mysteries discovered previously, he must make new friends and overcome the obstacles set out before him if he wants to live up to his title of “Agent Moon”...

***

Dawn broke over the city of London, and Matthew was awake for it. He was sitting on a balcony overlooking an empty street, dressed in a loose-ish dark red shirt and dark blue denim jeans (Galileo had told him that it would be best to dress smart-casual for the first day). He was eating breakfast as he sat there, every few seconds turning to look at the suitcase just behind him. It was everything he’d apparently need for the next four months.

Finishing breakfast, he left the balcony and carried the bowl and the suitcase downstairs to the kitchen. Sitting there reading the paper was a man in his early fifties with short brown hair and a small beard along his chin. He turned to Matthew and smiled. Matthew tried to smile back, and not look at the headline which read “CENTRAL LONDON FIRE AND BREAK-IN: INVESTIGATIONS ONGOING”. Funny. He’d been the victim of one and the cause of the other.

“You all ready, then?” Peter Luther asked, putting the newspaper down. “You know, I’m really proud of you for doing this. Putting yourself out there, and getting some great experience, too.”

Matthew nodded, smiling in the same way he’d smiled at that Reflection employee two weeks ago. “Yeah, it’s great that they offer short courses like these at colleges. It’s not completely related to my degree, obviously, but there’s a lot more crossover than you’d expect.”

“Well, you’d be the expert in that.” Peter shrugged. It was a pretty good cover story, all things considered, but even someone like him, who’d left school at 16, could tell that going from biology to astronomy was something of a leap. “But I trust you, Matt, I want you to know that. Make sure you enjoy yourself up there, okay?”

“Course I will, yeah.” Matthew paused as he saw a car pull up outside. “Ah, there’s my friend I told you about. I should probably head off, don’t want to keep them waiting…”

Peter gave Matthew a brief hug and smiled at him. Matt said another quiet “bye” to his Dad and opened the door, taking a brief look at the pictures on the wall before leaving. Some had four people in them, but most had three. Blinking for a moment, he turned and walked out the door, closing it behind him. He went to get in the back of the car, before hearing the voice of the driver.

“In the front, Agent Moon, if that’s alright.” came the voice of Agent Terra, who was sitting in the driver’s seat. He looked in to see Agent Gaia sitting at the back, a laptop on her legs and a pile of folders in the middle seat that had toppled onto the third seat due to the movement of the car. “We’re meant to be working right now, but…we wanted to have a chat before you started training.”

Terra pressed a button and the boot door opened, allowing Matt to put his suitcase and rucksack in. Closing it back down, he walked over and got into the passenger seat, and had barely put his seatbelt on when the car,a decently expensive one from what Matthew could tell, started moving.

Gaia cleared her throat as they passed through the London streets. “See, Agent Galileo told us you were off today, and that she’d be sending Agent Eclipse to pick you up. And Terra wasn’t sure-”

“Hey, don’t pin all this on me, ok?” Terra said, rolling his eyes. “We both agreed that it’d be better if we were the ones to do it. Just to make sure…uhm…”

“That Atticus wouldn’t scare me off?” Matthew guessed. The two looked at each other before Terra refocused on the road.

“Something like that.” Agent Gaia said in a hushed voice, looking down at her laptop screen. “It’s weird knowing his name now, but honestly, it fits him. Galileo did tell us not to tell any other agents, though. Eclipse likes to keep his secrets, after all.”

Matthew thought about the years he’d known Atticus. They’d played together as kids whenever they were allowed over to see his mother’s side of the family. That visit where he’d told Matthew to go for the MI6 job was the last time he’d seen Atticus in years. “Yeah, I guess he does. I feel bad for having yelled it out, um, back at E- um, Agent Galileo’s office.”

“Don’t worry about it, you had no way of knowing.” Terra reassured him, taking another turning as the car snaked through the London suburbs. “If I’d seen one of my cousins working as a spy, I’d probably have the same reaction. Though probably best to switch to Eclipse while you’re training.”

Matthew nodded, looking out of the window as the buildings around them gradually became further spaced apart and shorter as they entered the Greater London area. The patchwork of suburbs that surrounded the city made for a nice view as the car sped through, the traffic minimal seeing as they had passed the morning rush hour. He noticed that Terra wasn’t following a satnav or a phone, and instead appeared to know the route from memory. Terra briefly looked back at Matthew and smiled, with Matthew smiling back, before turning his full attention to the road once more.

“You all healed up, by the way? Some of those bruises looked pretty nasty.” Terra asked, scratching his head as he took the car onto an A-Road. The expensive-ish houses around them gave way to the green and pleasant fields of the English countryside, minus the housing development site or two.

Matthew turned back around, having been counting how many fields of sheep he saw. “Oh yeah, uh, I’m more or less perfect. The stuff Agent Luna gave me cleared them up in no time.”

“Yeah, Luna’s the best.” Gaia smiled from the back seat, her quiet typing having not stopped since the journey began. “Or so I’ve heard. I’ve never really needed the Medical Team’s help, being a handler and all.”

Terra chuckled. “Nope, me neither.”

Gaia suddenly cleared her throat. “Well, actually-”

“Oh, for god’s sake-”

“I have a rather distinct memory of you burning your finger on the toaster in the break room-”

“It was a bad burn!” Terra hissed, rolling his eyes as the car came to a stop at a red light.. “It needed medical attention!”

“Yes, and Agent Luna was there to provide; her invaluable guidance of “stop screaming and run your hand under the tap” really saved the day, didn’t it?” Gaia snorted, clearly remembering the incident in vivid detail in her head. “At least she had the decency to say you were very brave and it wasn’t your fault the toaster was still warm.”

“You are totally misrepresenting things!-”

Matthew watched all of this with a bemused expression. “Um…light’s green, um…” he muttered.

“If you hadn’t denied it, I wouldn’t have had to explain!”

“I denied it because I knew you would explain!”

Matthew cleared his throat, albeit quietly. “Um, the light is-”

There was a loud honk from behind, and Terra hastily moved the car forward. Silence followed for a few seconds, before Matthew couldn’t help but laugh. Eventually, the twins followed.

“Sorry, Moon, didn’t mean to…” Terra paused, covering his mouth to hold in more laughter. “This is why we tend to stay back at HQ. At least there we can argue all we want without annoying anyone.”

Matthew simply smiled. “It’s not annoying to me, really. As long as you keep your eye on the road, you can argue all you like.”

Gaia sifted through the notes on the seat beside her. “Well, that’s very nice of you to say. And once you’re through training here, you’ll get to listen to us argue a lot more.”

“I look forward to it.” Matthew said, watching as the countryside scenery continued to roll on by. Eventually, he spoke up again. “So…I’m guessing you can’t say much about the training, right?”

Terra shrugged. “Well, they change it every time, since people can retake it and everything, but the basic principles are always the same. You know, physical ability, problem solving, teamwork, ability to deal with the stresses of the job, all that stuff.”

Matthew had assumed as much, but hearing it from someone else made it all feel a lot more real somehow. “I see…wonder if I’ll have to retake it…”

Terra and Gaia looked at each other briefly. “Are you joking?” Gaia chuckled, leaning forward to look at Matthew. “You’ve already got a successful mission under your belt, what do you have to worry about?”

“Yeah, but…” he trailed off, his smile fading. “A lot of that was down to you two.”

Terra sighed. “Look, we appreciate it, really. But you can’t sit there and say that some of that wasn’t because of your own skills, right?”

Matthew shrugged. “I…I guess? I dunno, sorry, um…” he stammered, wincing at himself. He tried not to think about what Bill would say if all of this was for nothing, or what Terra and Gaia would think of the person who took Bill’s title, or even what Eclipse would think. “I just don’t know if I can do it again.”

“Well…” Terra said, a small smile appearing on his face, “There’s only one way to find out.”

The car drove through a roundabout, off the A-Road, and past a hill with some trees on it before a vast compound came into view. There were half a dozen hills scattered across the area, each with its own domed building with a large telescope sticking out of it. Matthew watched as small shuttered hangars, large antennae, and smallish buildings that reminded him of university housing went by, until Terra stopped the car by the front entrance, a sign over the doors reading “Haverhill Observatory - Operated by The Midnight Foundation”.

“Alright, this is you.” Terra said, leaning back in his seat. “Gaia, his things?”

Gaia leant forward again and passed a document of some kind with a card paperclipped alongside it. Matthew took it and noted Agent Galileo’s signature on it, as well as a blue stamp with the Midnight Foundation’s logo on it. He got out of the car and held up the paper. Sure enough, the stamp matched the logo next to the double doors. He turned back around to grab his bags from the boot, before turning back to the twins.

“Thanks for this, I really appreciate it.” He looked down at the card quickly, and was surprised to see that it had the image from his MI6 file.

“No worries, Moon. We’ll see you on the other side, yeah?” Gaia said, waving to him with a smile.

Terra gave a wave and a nod too. “Good luck, mate. They won’t know what hit ‘em.” Both agents rolled up their windows, and the car rolled away. Matthew stood there for a second, took a breath, and turned towards the double doors. Entering, he saw that the architecture was quite similar to that of the London Headquarters, though much smaller and without the large carvings and sculptures, instead favouring detailed paintings of the solar system as well as several stars, presumably ones discovered here. 

Not wanting to be late, he stepped towards the desk. He would have said something (hopefully something coherent), but the receptionist interrupted before he could.

“Card and certificate, please.” He said, in a tone that suggested that he’d be spending most of today saying those four words. Matthew obliged, and watched as he stamped the certificate once more before putting it in a pile of certificates nearby. Matthew guessed that maybe 7 or 8  people had arrived here before him. That made him feel some amount of relief: he probably wasn’t late. Once the receptionist had scanned the card, he passed it back to Matthew.

“Oh, thank you-” he said quietly. The receptionist looked up in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected to be thanked, before continuing to type away on a computer.

“...You’re signed in…Agent. Would you like to be known as Matthew Luther for your time in training or choose another name?”

It was now Matthew’s turn to be surprised. He knew they’d have to take measures to make sure people didn’t know about just how he’d been recruited, but to take on a new name? He thought about it for a moment, about what he wanted his name to be associated with, and-

“Matthew Luther is fine, thank you.” He said, adjusting the collar of his shirt a little. The receptionist typed this into the computer. Another button pressed, and there was a click from the door to the left.

“Thank you, Mr Luther. If you’ll continue into the cloak room you can drop your luggage there. It will be brought to your room. Then, continue on until you reach the meeting room.”

Matthew nodded, and started on his way before pausing and turning back around. “Sorry, um, I don’t suppose there’s a map or something, is there?”

The receptionist’s face formed a smile, a sort of this is my favourite part of the job smile. “You should be able to find it. If not, a member of staff will come to collect you.”

Matthew clicked his tongue. “I see. Thanks again.” he said, turning back to the door, his brain registering the feeling that the training might have already begun.

The cloak room, at least, seemed fairly normal. He slotted his suitcase in the nearby rack, which seemed to operate like an airport baggage claim in reverse, with the baggage disappearing from view as the rack spun around. It now occurred to him that he had very little trust in this place, and found himself wondering what was and wasn’t a test. Needless to say, he decided to keep a hold of his rucksack just in case. Slinging it on his back, he opened the other door and left the cloakroom. He found himself walking through a thin, brown corridor with several framed signs on the wall. One read “DO NOT TRACK MUD INTO THE OBSERVATORY”, the next said “PLEASE DO NOT LITTER OR LEAVE BELONGINGS BEHIND”, and the final one read “BE CAREFUL - EQUIPMENT EASILY DISTURBED”.

Matthew could admit that he felt a little patronised by all this, but knew he had to balance this with the fact that somewhere in those signs was the guide to not failing at the first hurdle. Cautiously, very cautiously, he opened the door into the next room, though stood in the doorway without going right in. This room was wider than the last one, and a lot less brown too. The floor consisted of several metal squares, which looked similar to the material that escalators were made from. To his left and right, the walls were covered in pipes and venting, as white as the wall they covered. Finally, Matt looked up at the ceiling, which oddly enough reminded him of the ceiling of a classroom.

Surely not was Matthew’s first thought. He had been taught during his time at MI6 to disregard any and all cliches from spy movies, even the ones as subtle as using codes and ciphers. These days, all messaging was done in encrypted programs. But considering the Midnight Foundation already had a propensity for the use of gadgets, he realised he couldn’t be too careful. 

He took his rucksack off of his back, and pulled out one of the pens he’d packed. He wondered vaguely if the Foundation made pens that exploded as he tossed the pen into the room. The pen bounced off the square it hit perfectly, then the next one just the same, but it was when the pen landed in between two of the slits of the metal that Matthew realised what the problem was. Slowly, the square the pen had landed on started to tilt.

Matthew leant down to look at the square closest to him, or rather through it. He pulled out his phone and the light passed through, revealing a large pool of mud. This was a military survival course crammed into an observatory. He had to marvel at the ingenuity of it all, a smile forming on his face as he lent on the doorframe. He looked over to the pen that he’d dropped. Judging by the signs, he probably shouldn’t leave it there, and so very slowly he put his bag back on his back and tiptoed towards the square where it had ended up. 

Fortunately, he’d thrown the pen sideways more than he had forward, and so in only three or four squares he’d almost gotten to it. Already starting to slip, he reached for the pipes, and was surprised to find they were sturdy enough to hold his weight. Something occurred to him at that moment. He pulled himself further to the edge of the room, grabbing another pipe to do so, and hoisted his feet up to rest on the pipes too. They didn’t budge. Loosening a finger, he tapped on the pipes, and as he’d suspected, there was the thunk thunk of a decidedly un-hollow “pipe”.

A full smile on his face, he started manoeuvring across the wall of pipes, picking up his pen as he went along. From this angle, he could make out several muddy footprints across the other half of the room, presumably from people who tried to brute force it. For Matthew, it seemed the rules of hiking applied to this test: Leave no trace. It seemed incredibly fitting for spies too.

Across the room he went, tapping the pipes before putting his weight on them just to make sure the Foundation hadn’t put any decoys in to mess with anyone who’d found the solution. He came to the far wall, and looked over to the door. There were a few squares between him and the door, which by far had the most mud on them. It seemed the challenge of the room wasn’t over just yet. Something else had caught his notice as well. The footholds that seemed designed into the pipes had been going upward, so much so that Matthew’s brown hair was brushing against the ceiling. Unable to help himself, he stretched upward a little and felt the square in the ceiling move upward. He’d always wanted to do that whilst at school.

He shook his head as he focused his attention on the door, head still brushing against the ceiling. Did they want him to jump for it? He considered it and got ready to go for it, trying to get as high up the pipes as possible, before realising that there was no longer a ceiling overhead. He looked up, and a pair of hands was holding the square. There was a gasp, and the hands dropped it. Matthew didn’t have time to stop it hitting him square in the face, but at least was able to reach out to grab it before it fell onto the floor. He coughed and sputtered from the dust, before looking up at where the hands had come from. There was a light.

He was only able to stammer the word “H-Hey!” as he quickly clambered upward, having to breathe in a bit to get his long legs through. He placed down the ceiling part and breathed a sigh of relief as he hit solid ground. He really should have guessed that the ceiling at a state-of-the-art observatory shouldn’t have done that. The area above the room was dusty and small, the light Matthew had seen emanating from a crawl space in the wall. 

Matthew’s attention, however, was on who the pair of hands had belonged to. Here on the ceiling with him was a woman around his age, perhaps a year or two older. She was fat and had brown skin, with dark curly hair and bright green eyes that reminded Matthew of his own, though they were more of an olive shade compared to his. She also, somehow, seemed even more nervous than him.

“Um,” he began, still getting his feet in through the hole in the ceiling, “hello. Sorry, um-”

Before he could say anything else, the woman made a noise that Matthew could only describe as a “squeak”. “Oh! I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to let that hit you, I was just trying to slot it back in! They…took marks off from me for it last, um…” she trailed off, and before Matthew could say anything else she had fled through the crawlspace, her red trainers dropping away with the rest of her into the light. Matthew turned back to look at the ceiling square, rubbing his forehead where it had struck him. He slotted it back in place, the light from the room below disappearing. A few seconds later, he heard the sound of the door below opening, a single footstep, and a muddy splash. Matthew chuckled silently as he moved towards the crawlspace.

To his surprise, the crawlspace didn’t lead to the room on the other side of the door, but instead veered left, ending at an exit 30 metres or so away. Matthew watched as the woman from earlier appeared outside, squatting down to put the grate back over it. Gritting his teeth, Matthew continued onward, trying his best to move quickly, though this was difficult as a result of his height. He kept going, making sure to avoid a few bits of mud here and there before reaching the grate himself. He reached out and pushed it open, and hoisted himself out. He got up, caught his breath, stretched, and put the grate back in its place.

At this point he was half-expecting a bottle with a label reading Drink Me or something of the sort, but instead, the room was totally empty save for a single door, and a sign next to it reading MEETING ROOM ONE. Not wanting to take any chances, Matthew once again opened the door and remained in the doorframe. This time, however, he needn’t have worried; inside was a fairly standard lecture room, complete with blue leather seats. Matthew saw 4 other people in the room already, the woman from the ceiling among them, as well as a man in his late forties at the front of the room.

“Ah, welcome. Thank you for arriving so promptly.” He said, adjusting the glasses on his face as well as his neatly combed hair. “If you could take a seat, we shall wait for the others before we begin.”

Matthew sat down near the back of the room, trying not to be too close to anyone. He leant back, the realisation that he had made it through a military survival course unscathed. He’d followed the signs the very best he could, but he couldn’t help but look over to the woman who’d been up in the ceiling. He promised himself to thank her at the next chance he got, having realised that if not for her, his feet would likely be covered in mud and he’d probably not even have found the room. He still wasn’t convinced that he had what it took for all this.

Over the next half an hour, about a dozen or so others came into the room, with varying degrees of mud on their clothes. Once that happened, the man at the front pressed a button on the laptop he was standing in front of. Five minutes later, and the door opened once more. A man and a woman wearing security uniforms gestured into the room, and around ten more people filed in, none making eye contact, every single one with mud on them. Matthew figured that the door must not have led anywhere. With everyone assembled, the man in front cleared his throat.

“Thank you.” He said, nodding to the two security guards who turned and left the room. “Well, on behalf of the Midnight Foundation, I’d like to welcome you all to Haverhill Observatory, and of course, to your Basic Training. Over the next four months we will build up and test the skills needed to be one of our agents.”

“Now, a lot of you come from various governmental departments, military espionage groups, private military companies and intelligence organisations. An agent of ours scouted you for your talents, as well as an interest in astronomy, and you were asked to attend this four-month training course.”

Matthew took a moment to examine the room. There was a group near the front who he recognised as fellow agents of MI6. They didn’t seem to pay him much attention. He’d never exactly minded that, but Matthew was starting to wonder if that had been a mistake on his part.

The man continued. “My name is Agent Hubble, and I will be overseeing this first part of your training. Much of this first month or so will involve you getting used to the very basic duties an Agent has to follow, featuring a mix of spywork and astronomy. You’ll notice that for an agency like this one, we’re rather open amongst ourselves about the fact that we are, indeed, spies. We are secret agents. This is true above all other things, at all times. What that means for each of you may differ slightly, but it should nevertheless bring you to similar conclusions about what to prioritise when on missions.”

“Now, to begin. I’d like to ask you all to find someone to work with. We have surmised over several years of carrying this training out that cooperation is one of the skills least developed in our recruits, and so to correct this we have decided to create opportunities to use this skill from the very beginning of your time here.”

Matthew felt like his stomach was about to turn in on itself. He’d done so well up until this point, even if he’d needed a bit of help, and now it was all bound to collapse. He knew how this would go. He looked over at the group of recruits from MI6, and sure enough they were either pairing up with their friends from other groups or with each other. He felt an urge to just leave the room, but then he turned to see the woman from earlier. He recognised the exact same things he was feeling at once, from the stomach ache to the eyes looking around the room trying to decide what to do. He stood up, adjusting his rucksack, and crossed the room.

“Um, hello-” he began, in very much the same way he had when she’d dropped the ceiling on his head. ��S-Sorry, I, um…I wanted to, um…”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that, really, don’t let me take up your time-” she insisted, her french accent still as strong as before.

“Wait, um, that wasn’t…I actually wanted to thank you.”

The woman raised her eyebrow. “Really?”

“Well, I would have had to do the walk of shame otherwise, I imagine, so…yeah.” Matthew shrugged.

She blinked, unsure how exactly to respond. “Oh…well, it’s no problem, really. You should…probably find a partner, though…”

“Yeah, um…” he sighed, looking out over the lecture hall. “...I don’t exactly know anyone here. Would it, um…would it be ok if I worked with you? It’s totally ok if not, um…” he said, trailing off as he winced at himself. The others seemed to make it so easy, but then again a lot of them seemed to know each other.

Matthew would have dwelled more on his failure to network if not for hearing: “Really? You’d…want to work with me? I…I should probably tell you now, this isn’t my first time attempting to pass, I’ve…had to retry it several times now.” she admitted, looking away for a moment.

“I’m ok with that.” Matthew replied bluntly. He couldn’t explain it, but for some reason when he talked to her it didn’t feel like he was struggling to find ways to respond. That he could trust her to be patient with him.

“Oh…well, as long as you’re sure.” She said, gesturing for him to sit down. “I should probably introduce myself. My name’s Camille..”

Matthew sat down, allowing himself to smile as the stress faded from his body. “Nice to meet you, Camille. My name’s Matthew.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mathieu.” Camille said, smiling back in very much the same way. “If you enjoyed getting here, you should see what we’ve got to do to get our room keys.”

[cannibal-nightmares]

okay ghost story time. im not even prefacing this as "grain of salt: im psychotic" cause this is not that. and if it is, well, fuck, it's entirely out of my realm.

a month or so ago I had vaguely made a light-hearted and goofy one-off post about how hard it is to write out a check while hallucinating. I had gone to a realty office to put down a deposit on an apartment, but as I got into the lobby, things were kind of distorted in a way I can't articulate accurately. There was a sort of frequency racing through my head that was making it hard to focus; I thought I was just anxious taking the leap in signing moving paperwork, etc, and when I was writing the check, I was hallucinating so bad I had to redo it three times. I kept seeing colors and lines and energy in the lobby, idk, it's difficult to explain, but these are also the auras I get before it rains, so I really didn't consider much of it.

Today, I went to that office to pick up my move-in keys. Hooray! One step into the lobby and... Same thing. Instant feeling of something. The edges of the walls and the countertops frayed. Etc. Still, I didn't immediately think anything of it, I mean, I'm literally about to move, how nerve-wracking. I was told by a representative to go into the other room and wait for her there while she gathered paperwork; I did, and glanced out into the lobby to prepare for her, and there was a tall-ish white man with big khaki pants, a dark navy cardigan or windbreaker, and a light dress shirt. And, of course, he fizzled into thin air and glitched out of existence. "Great." I thought. "That's just great." I knew it was getting bad, but I didn't realize it was that bad already. But then... I considered... I didn't feel scared or doubtful... The representative came in and sat down and I thought, fuck it, I'm a bit manic, I hate small talk, let's just cut to the chase: "Are there ghosts here?" The change in her eyes. "...Why do you ask?" I wasn't about to tell this lady that I was hallucinating, so I just said something along the lines of, "The energy is different..." and also, "The energy was different in the same way last time I was here, too." She chuffed and told me, "It's funny you should mention that..." and she proceeded to tell me about how someone had recently passed and that they kept hearing strange noises while alone in the office, that the energy was off ever since, that they kept hearing swishy-ish pants walk down the hallway. She continued to tell me that her, herself, worked in some sort of organization in finding... missing people? and that she could feel presences sometimes? She tried to prod for more details from me, but I was being vague in the same way she wanted me to be specific, neither of us wanted to put ideas in the other's head.

This isn't the first time this has happened. Another namely instance includes when I had one of my major episodes of psychosis while I still lived with my parents. Long story, but I was going through it, and going through it hard, and at this time i still had no idea what was happening in my head, so I didn't have the resources to make sense of it. The short of some of the more surface-level details included feeling like I was being watched, that there was someone in the room, etc. I am not going to get into further specifics for the safety of my audience. But... What didn't help is that my dog at the time would randomly get up in the middle of the night to stand in the middle of the living room to bark at nothing. I never made note of what times he would do this, but maybe I should have. I eventually moved out and, with time, that episode finally subsided for a while. A couple years later, I visited my parents for Thanksgiving dinner, and they had invited their next door neighbor over. She was chatting about the tenants who had previously lived in our house before us and how it was an older couple, how the husband was brought home from hospice in a hospital bed in the middle of the living room where he then passed...

Too, I had helped my friend's parents move into a new house, except I kept seeing a little dog dip around corners. I didn't make outward note of it because I'm literally schizophrenic. Some time later, their mom mentioned stories about seeing a "ghost dog."

I used to visit another friend of mine in which I always felt a presence near the ceiling of his living room. I didn't say anything about it. He moved apartments, and, still, every time I visit, there's the presence, un-moving and high up near the ceiling. One day, he told me he had been seeing a spiritual therapist who said that he had someone from his family looking over him, but that he didn't believe it...

At work, some of our electrical sensors go off randomly. My co-workers have joked that there's a ghost in our building, and I thought it was silly-funny, too, but... Sometimes when I'm standing in a specific part of the main room, there's always someone who approaches me from the right, to the center of my vision, then disappears. I haven't given it too much thought since my head has been so fuzzy lately, but, long story, we've been having temporary out-of-town management come in to run the store. I can't remember why I brought it up, but I asked the manager at the time if she believed in ghosts, followed by the often, "...Why do you ask?" I told her about the person I kept seeing and she about collapsed with relief and said, "Thank god you've said something, I thought I was losing my mind hearing and seeing stuff in this place."

So, now, what do I do with this information? And then what does that make of all of my other delusions, hallucinations, and paranoia? (/mostly rhetorical) And, too... What do I make of it now that it's raining out? The icing on this cake, to interject, is that my grandmother on my dad's side was a medium.

This stuff is slippery. Here's a short comic by grendel-menz that I resonate with regarding schizophrenia and the blurred erasure of spirituality. Huzzaahhh

[megalony]

Look at us- Part 5

Another part in my Henry Cavill series that I hope everyone is liking so far, any feedback is greatly appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @dreaming-about-fanfictions @afro-hispwriter​​  

Masterlist

Summary: After losing a baby a few months ago, (Y/n) is still suffering horrible back pains that she needs strong painkillers to manage. But she has to be okay and in control to look after her family and she knows she is relying too much on pills to gain back her life and control.

Enjoy.

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"I'll help you up mummy," Reaching down, Ella wrapped her small hands around (Y/n)'s lower arm and tried tugging on her lifeless limb to try and get her up off the floor but it wasn't working. All she ended up doing was causing (Y/n) to sway to the right and it wasn't helpful.

"Ella no." (Y/n) roughly pulled her arm back to her chest and turned her head away so Ella wouldn't see her cry.

(Y/n) knew Ella was only trying to help and in any other circumstance she would have loved her for it. But right now, when (Y/n) was curled up on the living room floor, she just wanted Ella to leave her alone. It was hard for (Y/n) to think that because she loved all her children but when she was crippled with pain she didn't want Ella pulling on her and trying to move her when all she was doing was causing (Y/n) further pain.

"But nanny's coming, mummy get up!"

When Ella tried again to pull on (Y/n)'s arm, she could have screamed the house down at how it made her back twinge in agony. But she didn't. She bit down on her tongue until it started to bleed and coiled her arms around her chest.

"Ella leave mum alone. Nan's outside, go let her in." Brodie reached over and tapped Ella on the shoulder and turned her in the direction of the door to get her to leave (Y/n) alone. He knew that whenever (Y/n) was crying, they needed to leave her alone and Henry had told him if (Y/n) couldn't get up if her back was hurting then they should leave her be and find him instead.

With a huff, Ella turned and scuttled out of the room to go and open the front door, ready for their nanna to come in with Brodie not far behind. Henry's mum was having the kids for the day and (Y/n) couldn't have been more grateful.

Since four o'clock in the morning, (Y/n) had been moping about downstairs, not knowing what to do with herself. The doctor had given her clear instructions, one tablet of tramadol in the morning and then after tomorrow, she was taking just one tablet every other day for a week and then that was it, she would be weened off them for good.

Without the tablets, sleeping was avoiding her like the plague and this morning (Y/n) had had enough. She came downstairs and tried to sleep on the sofa, then moved to the chair but it was no use, her back wouldn't relent or be at ease. She had walked around hunched over all morning, mopping the floors, tidying the kitchen cupboards, tidying the toys in the play room, cleaning the conservatory. the house was spotless and breakfast was ready by the time everyone was up and awake and (Y/n) was in agony.

Henry asked his mum to have the kids for the day when he saw the state of his wife who couldn't stand up straight no matter how hard she tried. He had managed to get an emergency appointment at the doctors for tomorrow morning which couldn't come soon enough because they both knew (Y/n) couldn't carry on like this.

Moving her hands out, (Y/n) grabbed her bag that Brodie had brought her earlier and sat it on her lap. Her eyes were so blurry with tears that she could barely see properly. Moving the small zipper in the lining of her bag, (Y/n) felt a small glimmer of hope when she found a small silver packet of tablets.

She hoped to God it was some tramadol that she had left in here in case she got striked down with pain when she was out and about.

(Y/n) couldn't see properly to pop them out and she didn't know how many were in her hand before she clenched her hand into the tightest fist possible and crushed them into powdered dust. If they were broken down, they would get into her system quicker and she needed some sort of relief as fast as possible.

Chugging them down without a drink felt awful, her throat clenched, her chest convulsed and she gagged at the horrid taste it left in her mouth but the after effects would be worth it. The relief, would be worth it.

"Brodie can you go and get Jesse ready, Ella go put your shoes on."

(Y/n) swallowed a groan and turned her head to bury her face in the crook of her arm when she could hear footsteps advancing towards her. She loved Lisa like she was her own mother but (Y/n) didn't want her to see her like this, she hated anyone but Henry seeing her upset and broken down. She just wanted Lisa to take the kids away so none of them would witness her like this.

When she felt a hand resting on her shoulder, (Y/n) almost cowered back. Her body was coiled together, knees pressed to her stomach, her arms crossed on the sofa and her head buried in the crook of her elbow to try and hide herself away from everyone.

"Oh, honey. Why don't you try sitting on the sofa instead of the floor?"

After a moment, (Y/n) felt Lisa kneel down beside her and tentatively wrap her arms around her and it was ever so slightly soothing. But it did nothing to relieve her of the pain in her back and (Y/n) wanted to disappear, she didn't want comforting. She couldn't sit on the sofa because she couldn't sit up, her back was locked in place and she couldn't lie down on the sofa because it caused too much pain to handle.

"No- just leave me here."

A bubbling cry burned at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she choked down on her sobs, wiping her eyes on her sleeve but now she was crying, she just couldn't stop. her body began to shake and she felt Lisa holding her tighter, trying to soothe her.

"Shh, hey, it's alright. Ooh, I don't want to just leave you down here." Lisa lightly tutted in sympathy and pressed her forehead against the side of (Y/n)'s head. She couldn't just walk away and take the kids when (Y/n) was sat on the floor in absolute agony, it didn't feel right and it wasn't fair. She felt like she needed to do something, whether that was trying to help (Y/n) get comfy on the sofa or finding her a drink and some painkillers to take the edge off. (Y/n) was a daughter to her and she couldn't stand to see any of her children in pain like this.

"Mama, mama, mama!" The word bubbled past Jesse's lips followed by a round of hyper clapping and some giggles before the three-year-old appeared behind them like a shadow.

His dark brown curls flopped around his head like a miniature Henry and he wrapped his arms around (Y/n)'s neck, lightly shaking her in his way of hugging. (Y/n) realised it must seem like she was trying to play a game with him, maybe he thought she was playing peek-a-boo or hide and seek with the way she curled up and hiding her face. Whatever he was thinking, the way he shouted her name- one of the very few words he could say- and how he hugged her just made (Y/n) cry harder.

"I'll go get the children ready to go, come here Jesse. Henry, please come and help (Y/n)."

Lisa pressed a kiss to the side of (Y/n)'s head before she gently picked Jesse up and settled him on her hip, noticing Brodie must have got him ready as he was in his dinosaur shoes and matching coat.

"Baby I'm here..." Henry kissed Jesse and his mother as he passed them in the hallway before he knelt down beside (Y/n).

He wasn't sure what he could do to help when she was curled away from him in a ball on the floor. He knew she couldn't stand up straight and he knew she was in pain. What should he do, try and sit her down on the sofa? Get her up and take her to the emergency room? Maybe try and see if she could lay down curled up in bed for a while?

"Can I touch you?" He didn't want to just grab her in case she was in too much pain to be held tenderly.

When (Y/n) nodded, Henry gently wrapped his arms around her and pulled her away from the sofa.

"I'm gonna try something, hold onto my arm as tightly as you want and take a deep breath."

Moving around a little, Henry placed one arm around (Y/n)'s front and he pressed his other hand against her back between her shoulder blades. When he felt (Y/n)'s hands holding onto his bicep, he very slowly pushed his arm against her chest and tilted her backwards so she was very slowly straightening her spine up. The clicking sound that echoed in the room was shuddering and the feeling of her spine suddenly snapping back into place made Henry gag. But it was (Y/n)'s shriek that made his blood curdle like sour milk.

He didn't want to hurt her but he knew the longer she stayed stooped over, the worse it would be to try and straighten her up again. But she was sitting up now, something she hadn't been able to do since early last night.

"Do you want me to take you to A&E? If you want to we'll go right now." Henry didn't want to just put (Y/n) in the car and drive there if she felt she might feel a bit better now. He trusted her judgement of her pain scale and whether she wanted to see if they could offer any sort of help or not. The last time they went to the hospital for her back pain Henry almost punched the doctor with how rude she had been and she ended up sending them home without any help at all.

(Y/n) shook her head before she buried her face between his chest and bicep, gripping his arm so much that he could feel it tingling from the blood being restricted.

"Do you want to try lay down in bed?"

She nodded. At this point, she felt like passing out, she would do anything Henry suggested because she was feeling sick, drowsy, numb, pain-riddled and broken all at once. She didn't quarrel when he picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the living room. She buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms very tightly around his neck, whimpering every now and then but he quietly shushed her with his lips against her temple.

Heading into their bedroom, Henry pressed his knees into the side of the bed so he could carefully lower (Y/n) down on the bed and turn her so she was laying on her side. He pressed a pillow against her lower back and one underneath her thighs to try and make sure any tension was relieved from her back.

"Stay, please." Her hand grabbed his wrist with such force it took Henry by surprise but his features softened and he made quick work of climbing into bed behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, smiling into her hair when (Y/n) grabbed his hand and held it to her chest. "Thank you... I'm sorry I-"

"Babygirl, please don't apologise, you haven't done anything. I promised I'd always look after you, didn't I?"

Henry couldn't tell if (Y/n) was agreeing with him, slowly dozing off to sleep or silently disagreeing. She nuzzled her lips against his knuckles and hummed quietly so he guessed his words quelled her worries. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and kissed her flushed skin.

"Go to sleep, baby."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A tired groan escaped (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to open her eyes but they felt weighed down like they were made of stone. When her eyes finally managed to open, everything was blurry.

How long had she been asleep?

When (Y/n) tried to move and flop an arm behind her, a bubble of disappointment welled up in her chest when she realised she was alone in bed. Henry had left her. Maybe it was dinner time and he was getting something to eat or maybe he was watching tv downstairs, he didn't like to sleep during the day unless he'd been travelling through the night and didn't sleep.

Sitting up proved to be more of a challenge than (Y/n) had ever faced before. She couldn't seem to hold her head up properly, it felt so heavy and it wobbled from side to side and her body felt groggy.

With stiff hands, (Y/n) cradled the glass of water from the side table and drained it completely, feeling like her throat was made of sandpaper grating together and becoming raw. Why did she feel so rough? Surely she hadn't been asleep for that long? Although, with how groggy she felt, (Y/n) realised she couldn't feel any pain in her back, or anywhere else in her body. Everything was just... numb.

(Y/n) threw the cover to the side and slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, running her hand over her face to try and liven herself up a bit but she knew it wasn't working. Every move she made felt sluggish and her eyes were barely open enough to see in front of her. Even (Y/n)'s stomach was now starting to rotate and churn in the wrong kind of way.

With a deep breath, (Y/n) tried to stand up, she wanted to go and find Henry and sit with him and maybe get something to eat. But the moment she was upright, all the blood left her head and went swimming down to her feet.

She barely felt the way her body collided roughly with the floor or how her legs curled awkwardly beneath her and her arms were stuck under her chest. Everything felt like it was spinning in circles around her head and her eyes couldn't even stay open no matter how hard she tried.

It felt awkward to try and move around, like she was some sort of worm no the floor with no arms or legs. Her arms flailed against her stomach and her eyes rolled to the back of her head when her face tilted down, brushing oddly against the carpet before she was sick.

"Baby, you alright?" Henry ran his fingers through his hair as he ascended up the stairs. He had just left the living room when he heard a sudden thud upstairs. Maybe (Y/n) had knocked something over or dropped something. She was always walking into things.

A slither of fear crept up the back of his neck and tingled through his blood when he didn't hear a response.

"Babe?"

Reaching their bedroom, Henry lightly tapped his knuckles against the door before he slowly opened it and walked in.

"Shit." His heart jumped into his throat and he quickly fumbled to turn the light switch on before he crashed down onto his knees behind (Y/n)'s limp form curled up on the floor. "Baby, hey, sweetheart can you hear me?" He brushed her hair behind her ear before he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. Her skin was burning hot and clammy from sweat.

A small murmur bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips and Henry could see her eyes moving a little behind her eyelids but other than that she wasn't moving at all. He thought he could hear her trying to say his name, but her voice was so quiet and her lips were barely moving.

"Okay, alright let's have a look at you." His voice was soft and gentle but his expression was the exact opposite.

Henry tried to be gentle when he shuffled (Y/n) back towards him so she was away from the vomit on the floor. He pressed his hand beneath her top and rested his large palm against her chest, trying to feel if she was hot or cold and see how well she was breathing. Her breaths were shallow, her chest wasn't falling very much or deeply and it felt like she was hiccuping rather than breathing. She was sweating but her skin wasn't hot and clammy on her chest, it was colder than the rest of her.

"I need to move you, we need to go to hospital sweetheart."

There wasn't any time for Henry to run downstairs and phone for an ambulance. He didn't like the way she was breathing and she wasn't moving, added with how she was barely conscious, it told him something was drastically wrong with his wife and he needed to get her help right now.

With one hand resting on the back of her neck, he gently pulled her up until she was sitting up with all her body weight on his arms. His thumb brushed against her neck and he tipped her head forward quickly when her lips parted and she threw up water onto her legs.

"Let it out sweetheart,"

When he was sure she'd finished, Henry slid his arms under her armpits and slowly hoisted her up to her feet and leaned her weight onto his chest. When her chin was propped up on his shoulder and he moved her arms around his neck, he held her thighs with one arm and picked her up with his other hand supporting her back.

He didn't want to carry her bridal style if she was going to be sick because she could choke. At least this way if she threw up she would just do it on his back and she wouldn't choke.

What was happening to her?

[strwbrryvagabond]

I need advice on mobility aids, so I figured who better to ask than people who use mobility aids, right? Long post, TLDR at the end.

I've had really terrible chronic lower back pain for a while now, it's right over my spine over all of the small of my back. I finally went to the doctor about two months ago, mid January ish, and was told I was probably a bit hypermobile but I didn't meet the full criteria for something like Ehlers-Danlos since I've never dislocated anything (thankfully, just broken a looooot of bones) and neither of my parents has any hypermobility issues. The doctor put me in Physical Therapy, and I just started my third month

Being completely honest, I am VERY BAD about doing my PT at home. I forget, I was down with the Flu in February, and all I can bring myself to do most days when i get home from school is take off the back brace I've been wearing and lay down.

The other day during lab (I go to a tech school for Cosmetology) I was having a lot of trouble standing, more than usual, so after a lot of debating, I asked my teacher if it would be alright with her if I brought a chair over from our manicure area and sat down while working on the highlights I was doing. She said it was alright so long as no one else started doing it, and so I brought a chair over, put it as high as it would go, and got to work.

I don't think I have ever done highlights that fast and that well in my life. Because I wasn't taking a break to sit or lean against my station every few minutes, I just worked straight through and got done with way more than i would typically finish in a lab period.

This is where I get nervous though. I'm worried that I just want a mobility aid, be it a cane, rollator, or what I wished for in the moment, a wheelchair, so that I can work faster. I'm worried that I'm just looking for a reason to neglect my physical therapy and an excuse to sit down. My mom who has been to both doctors visits thinks he's taking me seriously, and my physical therapist is great and checks in on my constantly.

But after three months my back still hurts constantly to the point where I don't even know how to rate my pain on a scale of 1-10 because I am so used to it. My physical therapist and doctor think I just have back posture, which I do, my back is too arched, and that I just need to strengthen my core and upper body and that will fix everything. But I'm scared that that won't fix it, that nothing will fix it and that there's just some nebulous thing wrong with me

I've been looking up wheelchairs recently, and thinking of that day in lab and how much better I felt, but I'm worried that I'm doing it all for the wrong reasons. Even if I was in a wheelchair I would still be all up for physical therapy, it usually makes me feel slightly better for the rest of the day, and I do genuinely need to improve my upper body strength for my career, it's abysmal. But I just don't know what to do. This is a long ass post, sorry

TLDR; I want a wheelchair or other mobility aid to deal with my lower back pain, but I'm worried I'm doing it for the wrong reasons. I need advice.

Thanks :)