#but i am trying to fix my sleep schedule so thank you for your -

[thisnightissparkling089]

Update on my lungs under the cut. People should only have to be subjected to this health update if they want to, mainly because it's a lot😅

I had a second opinion appointment 2 weeks ago in the (what feels like) never ending quest to figure out what the hell is happening with my lungs and if this can be fixed.

My first pulmonologist wanted to do a lung biopsy. Which is a major surgery and a lengthy recovery, not to mention incredibly expensive.

I just heard back from my new dr, and he has finally reviewed the scans and feels the next steps should be a bronchoscopy and a bronchoalveolar lavage.

The bronchoscopy is a procedure where a thin lighted tube is placed down my throat and into my lungs to get a better view of my lungs and what is happening with them.

The lavage procedure releases saline into my lungs, suctions it back out, and that sample is then sent out to be tested.

Both should be able to done in the same procedure, under light anesthesia.

I continue to hope that whatever this is is something that can be reversed or at the very least better controlled.

The main issues I have is that it's hard to properly take a deep breath without pain. Like you just sucked down a slurpee, and your chest feels ice cold. That and the fact that my oxygen levels will drop doing basic things. I could take a bath and between getting out of the tub and getting dressed, my oxygen levels could drop into the 80's, sometimes even into the 70's.

The procedures will be scheduled for sometime in the coming weeks, hopefully early to mid May.

He asked if I had any questions, and the one I do have that no one can seem to give me a straight answer on is if I will die. Because any time I google something, it's like, you have 3-5 years to live, congratulations! 🙄

He of course couldn't give a definitive answer, but did his best to try and reassure me that he doesnt really think death is iminate from this within the next 5 years and he's hopeful we can either fix or better control this. But until we get a full view of the lungs, it's hard to know exactly what's happening.

It occurred to me on Saturday that I've actually been depressed for weeks now and just couldn't see it because it's presenting a lot differently now than it previously has.

Typically when I'm depressed I can't even get out of bed. I can't eat, I sleep all the time, I feel empty, I cry.

This time around it's so different. I feel like I'm overeating, I can get up, go out with friends, work fine. But I'm also struggling to fall asleep and stay asleep and such little tasks such as cooking, cleaning, laundry, washing my hair, etc. Feel so overwhelming I can't even think about them.

I was able to get an appointment this morning with my primary doctor and got back on my medication. I'd previously been off it for 2 years and was doing well, but this whole lung issue has thrown me for a loop, especially since it's lasted as long as it has.

I know there is no shame in seeking help and getting back on my meds. I also know that it doesn't mean I'll have to be on them for the rest of my life.

Right now I'm just taking everything day by day and am so grateful to be surrounded by such supportive people and have a space where I can vent.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading and listening💜

[shadeswift99]

go to sleep shade

You cast spell "Go To Sleep" on target: Shade at 9th level. I immediately fall flat on the ground and do not move for 8 hours.

[faevi]

GOJO SATORU WAKES YOU UP - (smut)

Scenario: Gojo Satoru promised to help you wake up on time and fix your sleeping schedule. He decides to use his own methods. (SMUT).

Word Count: 3,890.

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her), somnophilia, cunningulous, finger sucking, gagging, tasting of oneself(?), fingering, squirting, praise, a little bit of degradation / humiliation, a sprinkle of possessiveness, hair pulling, marking with hickies, pet-names, slight size kink, gojo being hot?

Please let me know if i missed anything - if i have, it’s genuinely unintentional.

Note: As you can see, I'm slowly getting back into writing cause I miss it. So it might be a liiiiittle bit rusty. This is my first Satoru piece! I plan to write many more. This isn't proofread / edited - So please just ignore any mistakes lkdfgfd. I also tried to follow the aesthetic trends of how everyone posts their writing pieces?? Editing is hard. I hope someone reads this and likes it (: Please let me know if you do!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Satoru’s warm gaze never left the bed. Even as he blindly wraps the leather strap around his wrist, long fingers sliding the strap through the metal half circle, prick poking into the hole and tightens the watch. He decided to let you sleep in for an extra hour as he prepared himself for work. It’s difficult for the tall male to not indulge in spoiling you, especially when you look so cute curled up and drool seeping out onto the pillow.

Still…. He made a promise to both himself and you that he’d help you improve your sleeping schedule and limit sleeping in. It pains his heart whenever he watches you get upset from wasting hours of your day. Satoru gently sprays his cologne, dabbing it against the sides of his neck and wrists before setting the fancy-looking bottle down amongst your many that he’s purchased for you. He checks the time on his watch, already unbuttoning the few buttons of his white dress shirt. It’s 8:10 AM and he has to leave soon.

The white-haired male opts out on waking you up in a usual loud-playful manner of his. Simply because, well, you’re looking too cute. Just how you manage to coax him into letting you sleep in without even having to lift a finger. Satoru approaches the shared bed, feet silent against the carpet floor before he lowers one knee against the mattress, feeling it sink beneath his weight as he leans down, large hand sliding from your waist to hug around your stomach.

“Baby, it’s time to wake up..” Satoru speaks softly, voice his usual low and soothing. He scatters kisses against your bare shoulder, fingers gently brushing against your stomach before his palm presses against it. You only stir a little in your peaceful slumber, curling up further and pitifully trying to pull the blankets over your head. Satoru snorts, endeared by how you are just not a morning person at all. His loving attempt was a failure and he watches as you continue to sleep, wondering what you’re dreaming about.

Strands of white hair fall over his crystal blue eyes as he presses his bigger form against you, almost smothering you but he keeps his weight off of you, trying to peek at your face beneath the blankets. “If you wake up now, I’ll take you out for breakfast.” Satoru offers, hands on your body stopping as he waits to see if that temptation would have gotten a response. Nothing. Only soft breathing. ‘How can someone be such a heavy sleeper’, he thinks in almost disbelief. Satoru rolls his eyes before he stands up at the edge of the bed, hands tucking into the pockets of his black slacks. The sadistic, playful side within him calls to rile you up in the early morning by yanking the blankets and dragging your body off of the mattress but…

His heart just squeezes at the sight of the bundle of blankets forming barriers around you. Nothing is tucked in tightly, thanks to the fun last night and so instantly, an idea pops into his head. He has access. Satoru is often fantasizing about you. Hell, it feels like it’s every second of the day. It’s a miracle that he’s even able to focus on work or crack a joke to annoy his co-workers. Satoru is just the best at multi-tasking and right now, he craves to devour you and wake you up… eventually. Technically it’s multi-tasking.

Satoru bends over, lifting the blankets up cautiously from the bottom until he could see your bare legs. His heart begins to thump faster with excitement at the thought of touching you when you’re at your most vulnerable; cock twitching in his slacks. He flicks the blankets over to keep your legs exposed, hands rolling up the sleeves of his tight fitted dress shirt before he lowers his upper body onto the mattress, one hand guiding the blankets over his head until he finds himself trapped between your legs, hungry gaze falling onto your pussy.

Even with the darkness clouding around him from the blankets, Satoru can see everything. Your cunt already lightly coated in a light sheen of slick. Appearing so inviting for the taller male. He groans quietly, large hands cupping the back of your thighs and pauses for a moment. You don’t even squirm from the new touch. Whatever you’re dreaming about must be good. That, or your trust in him is so deep that it reaches sleep. He guides your legs over his broad shoulders, shifting himself so his knees are planted on the carpet, the length of your legs staying over his shoulders as he presses soft kisses to your inner thighs, tongue sliding out to teasingly dance across your smooth skin. His love-marks from last night only encourage him, lips latching onto your warm flesh to suck harshly to form another; now starting to feel you squirm a little.

You whine softly in your sleep, trying to roll onto your side but it fails as his strength easily keeps you flat on your back; body thinking nothing of it as you continue your peaceful slumber. He clicks his tongue in disapproval, though lips curled in amusement. “A sleeping beauty, all mine for the taking.” Satoru mumbles beneath his breath, fingers squeezing your flesh roughly before inching up until his long index finger glides between your folds. It slides so easily. Wet, already. He groans, pressing his crotch against the edge of the bed to try and contain himself. Invading your wet needy cunt with his cock would definitely wake you up but he thinks you need to earn it and you’re unable to do so in such a slumber.

Satoru is always in absolute awe when it comes to the sight of your pussy becoming so easily aroused just from his touch. Even as you sleep. Two of his fingers continue to cautiously glide up and down between your slick covered folds, grinning a little at noticing your thighs quivering from the careful touch. Even your hole clenches around nothing in response, desperate to be filled. Your eyebrows furrow, tilting your head into the pillow to lazily nuzzle against it in your sleep, inhaling the scent of the white-haired male that lingers. “Fuck, baby..” Satoru mumbles, two of his fingers pressing against your folds until they part to reveal your sensitive clit and needy hole. Strings of slick become visible and Satoru is always easily tempted. He drags his tongue between to break the strings, pleased by tasting you further.

With silent frustration towards the blankets hiding your face, Satoru swiftly yanks them off until the pair of you are exposed, blankets discarded on the floor. He coos mockingly as you begin to shiver from the cold. “Poor baby girl, needs warming up.” He whispers, toned arms wrapping around your thighs to keep them in place over his shoulders. Your inner thighs squeeze against his face, piercing blue eyes focusing on your sleeping face as he quickly dives in to devour you, growling lowly. His lips pressing sweetly against your sopping pussy, wet muscle dragging between your folds, moans muffled as he taste your sweet juices on his daring tongue. His mind going wild with the idea of what he could do to you as you sleep so deeply. It tempts him so much that Satoru thinks of testing further other times.

A whimpering moan parts from your sleeping lips, face scrunching up as pleasure spreads through your body from your core, fist bunching the sheets up. You stir in your slumber only slightly and for once, Satoru is glad you don’t wake up instantly. He feels powerful, being able to touch and kiss you when you’re completely vulnerable but still feeling the absolute bliss that is his tongue. Short nails dig into your thighs, pressing his face further between your legs as his open mouth makes out hungrily with your cunt. He could barely breathe from how firmly he’s pressing his face into your core, only inhaling the scent of your sex. His tongue laps up your sweetness before he leans in to press sloppy kisses to your throbbing clit, sucking harshly and tongue rubbing against the bud until he feels your legs tense up and tremble, pitifully trying to contain the ecstasy you begin to feel from his eager mouth never parting from your lower lips.

Tongue swirls around the nub lightly between his needy kisses, juices smearing across his handsome face. Blindly, your hand reaches down towards the source, fingers threading through his white hair. You begin to wake up. Slowly. Not truly able to get out of your slumber but, you feel the sweet pleasure wash over you constantly and your mind begins to seek for answers. “A-Ah… Wha— Nn…” You moan out, unable to form words from the cloud of sleepiness hanging over your head. What is going on? Something feels so good… You could barely lift it off of the pillows, eyes glancing down. You feel face get hot when realisation starts to hit you; Satoru is gazing back up at you. The piercing blue eyes wide and manic with a mixture of excitement & hunger. He’s eating you out like a starved man.

Satoru barely lifts his mouth to speak, voice dripping with lust and sounding breathless. “Good morning, princess. Finally awake, huh? Took me to touch your needy cunt for you to wake up? Filthy. My dirty little slut, hm?” The degrading words slip out through a teasing purr, prompting your free hand to pathetically try to cover your face. You feel your heart flutter, head dizzy with lustful thoughts. Drowsiness hands over your head but, it doesn’t stop your cravings starting to form. You couldn’t deny that the sadistic ways Satoru shows only causes your pussy to clench around nothing; wishing to be stretched out by his thick, pulsating cock.

“Nn, ‘toru, please—”

“No cock for you.”

He could practically read your mind by knowing you too well. That’s what you get for refusing to wake up in the first place, you suppose. Especially since you begged him to help you fix your awful habit. Satoru may love to spoil you, shower you in love and pleasure but, he can be almost scary with how firm he is with punishments. This isn’t the worst and so you accept it. You pout sleepily, eyes droopy as you watch the tall male bury his mouth against your wet cunt against, flustered by the sounds of just how excited your body is. It’s an addicting sight to see. A tall man lapping up your slick, groaning quietly from the delicious taste of you. He could taste you for hours on end if he could. Moans of his name part from you as you feel his tongue rub relentlessly against your pulsing clit, slurping loudly as his lips move against your folds, drinking every drop that dares to seep out. “Fuck, you taste so good.” Satoru groans, lips dragging down until his tongue teases your hole. You see stars, gasping sharply as you pull on the strands of his silky white hair.

Satoru groans from the ache he feels, head tilting back away from your hand to feel more of the painful tug, tongue licking over your fluttering hole, gently prodding at it. You anticipate it and, that’s why Satoru pulls away. He’s kneels up and grins down at you, admiring the way your body trembles so cutely beneath him. Your slick is dripping down his chin, coating his lower face. Your face falls from the loss of pleasure, attempting to whine in complaint. “Satoru, come on…” It does nothing, asides from making his cock strain even further against his slacks. Satoru takes his sweet time, wiping his face with his hand, watching as a string of your mess connects his fingers together.

“Dirty girl.” He comments before bringing his hand towards your face. “Open wide.” Satoru orders, voice smooth and instantly, you part your lips to happily take his long fingers into your mouth. Even this is spoiling. Satoru knows you have a wild fetish for his hands and so, if it’s not his cock that you can take; you’ll eagerly take his fingers down your throat. Your needy moans are muffled as you suck your own sweetness off of his fingers. The pads of his fingers press against your soft wet muscle, sliding them further down and watches intently as you swallow around them, his gaze darkening. Your throat muscles constrict around the invasion, causing you to gag audibly but you continue to suck like the filthy whore you are for this man.

“So good for me, aren’t you? Taking everything I give you.” He speaks soothingly, his free hand caressing your stomach. His other hand continues to slide long, slender fingers in and out of your mouth. You whimper, looking up at him with an ‘innocent’ gaze as you continue to obediently suck, only able to taste yourself, few droplets escaping down your chin. Satoru feigns calmness, checking the time on his watch. You couldn’t help but think how hot it is when he even checks the time. You’ve fallen that deep for the tall male. He’s definitely going to be late to work. Frankly, he doesn’t fucking care. They need him more than he needs them. What he truly needs? You. Always. Every shape and form. Still, this isn’t about him and so with every fibre of his being, Satoru ignores his cock, even though it throbs badly & craving to be touched.

“If you promise me to wake up properly when I wake you, I’ll let you come.” Satoru promises, slipping his fingers out of your mouth, thumb swiping gently against your lower lip. “P-Please, I promise! I’ll wake up on time, I swear.. I’ll listen to you, always. Please.” You beg, voice raspy from the lack of talking and having fingers deep down your throat. “Okay, baby~.” He coos, leaning down to press a loving kiss to your soft tiers, unable to deny how cute you are when you beg for him. You could smell is heavenly cologne gently waft over you from how close he is. One of your favourite scents. “Still, no cock.” He whispers breathlessly against your lips, hand trailing down to between your legs. You pout at him from denying you his cock once more, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close.

He lovingly rubs his nose against yours, obliging your clinginess by keeping his bigger form pressed against you in an embrace, scattering kisses against your jawline as his long fingers meet your needy core once more. He doesn’t tease you by dragging out his time with you, two of his fingers rub against your quivering hole before finally pushing in slowly. They slide in so easily. Even if it’s just his fingers, Satoru groans at the feeling of your tight, velvety walls cling around his digits, squeezing. Your breathing becomes erratic from feeling the sweet stretch around his digits; nothing compared to the entire length of Satoru’s thick cock but, his fingers still feel so heavenly inside of you. You briefly wonder if you could just live your life with a part of him always inside of you.

You’re clinging onto him, upper body rising off of the bed and his free arm wraps around you to keep you pressed against him, soft lips still attached to your jawline, sucking firmly enough to leave a bruise. Another possessive mark to wear with pride. His long fingers pump deep inside of you, feeling them drag along your warm slick walls as they push in and out. Moans just spill from you and Satoru feels so damn aroused just from how needy and precious you sound. Your slick already dripping onto the sheets as he continues to pound his fingers into your tight cunt roughly, angling them until—

“Oh!” You gasp sharply when a jolt of ecstasy rushes over your entire body, upper body jerking upwards from the sudden sensation. Satoru knows where to find your sweet spot quickly and is already eager to abuse it until he witnesses pretty tears in your eyes, sobbing his name out over and over like your own prayer. The white-haired male keeps you trapped beneath his large frame, plunging his fingers desperately, rubbing against your g-spot and keeping his blue eyes focused on your visage. Fuck, it really turns him on to see your face scrunch up and mouth hanging open as you’re unable to contain yourself, crying out for him.

You choke on a sob, toes curling against the crinkled sheets and bare breasts jiggling from the impact of Satoru’s fingers moving, encouraging your hips to move as you grind down onto them. You feel complete bliss, not able to feel flustered like usual from the wet squelching sounds of your throbbing pussy. Pleasure in the form of electricity just shoots through your body, trying so hard to contain yourself by tensing up. Satoru knows you’re pathetic when it comes to that. It’s adorable, really. He enjoys watching you try to hide how good it feels before you’re babbling out his name, screaming for him.

Just as you are now. From his fingers alone. You bite down on his shoulder, trembling hands holding onto him as you cry out for him, tears glued to your long pretty lashes. Your stomach is feeling so hot and tight, throbbing walls clenching around his relentless fingers. “Sweet girl, need to come?” Satoru chuckles softly, warm breath fanning against the side of your face. The free arm holding himself up aches a little but that is nothing compared to his strength. Though, he knows you’d probably love being smothered by his larger body; Satoru selfishly wants to witness it all. Witness you come undone by just his digits.

You whimper, deliberately squeezing around his fingers to coax out a grunt from him. It’s true. He can read you so well because you really do need to let go. Be broken in by the man. There’s an unspoken rule between you both and that is waiting on his permission. He loves how obedient you get for him in the bed. So fucking cute and sweet. He drags it out a little longer, not quite done with you. He grinds his fingers into you, now pressing his palm against your sopping pussy and makes contact with your overly-sensitive clit.

“Ah, fuck! Please!” You plead breathlessly, a hand coming down to weakly hold onto his wrist but neither of you refuse to stop him. Satoru peels himself off of you, creating more distance between your body and you could see his eyes cloud darkly with desire for something. “Come for me.” Satoru orders, free hand pressing against your stomach, the fingers deep in your core now rapidly moving up and down. You pant heavily, feeling your high swiftly approaching as you try to lean up on your elbows, thighs squirming. Everything feels so damn hot and sensitive, it’s a miracle you’re not snapping your legs shut on his hand as you usually can’t help it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuuu—‘Toru!!” You cry out in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure now constantly crash down over your body, leaving you trembling hard, eyes rolling. Satoru is quick to slide his fingers out to watch the heavenly sight he’s been craving for; you squirting. Fuck, he thinks. He’s panting himself as your sweet juices spurt out in lots, gushing hard all over the bed and his work slacks. “Squirting all over me, filthy girl.” He groans, not daring to blink. ‘Do not dare miss a moment’, he thinks. Your hips snap upwards, chasing the addicting high as your wetness continues to spill out. Tears escape, sobbing out for the white-haired male, body feeling so hot and tingly.

Satoru coos at the adorable sight of you coming undone from his mouth and fingers. Large hands caressing along your sides, not daring to hold you down through your orgasm. He enjoys it far too much as you tremble and cry for him. “Good girl..” He praises, one hand coming to stroke your hair, peppering kisses against your bare shoulder. His office clothes are a mess now, your fluids soaked in patches against his black slacks. He didn’t care. He loves you too much. Satoru lays next to you, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in and lips cautiously brushing away your pretty tears, mixing in with the taste of your sweetness that lingers on his tongue. You slur out a whine when you feel his tongue against your face, body still trembling gently as it naturally comes down from the high. You feel so sensitive. No one else has ever made you feel anything this good until Satoru.

Satoru…

You just always crave to be with Satoru. Body, soul, heart & mind. This is where you belong. You lean back into his loving embrace, smiling from the multiple kisses that he presses to the top of your head, trying to look up at him through droopy eyelids. You could feel his bulge pressing against your backside. “Well, I’m awake now.” You joke sheepishly, prompting the male to snort and roll his eyes. “Didn’t take much to wake you, just my face buried between your legs. Should have tried that from the start, knowing how needy you are for me.” Satoru teases sweetly, lips curled to form a cocky grin. You feel heat rise to your cheeks, rolling over to bury your face into his firm chest, slowly gliding your hand down towards his crotch. His large hand smothers yours, stopping your movement and you pout. He’s still firm on the ‘no cock’ rule this morning for refusing to wake up, much to his dismay. His length aches from no action. You press an apologetic kiss to his broad shoulder, voice quiet.

“Don’t you need to leave for work? You’re already late.”

“Nah, they can wait a little longer. I’m with my girl.”

You smile at that, always feeling spoiled by him. You giggle softly, ignoring how sticky your legs feel as you tangle them with. He gazes fondly at you, arm draped over your side. His sweet girl. All his. He presses his lips to your cheekbone. It’s moments like these, that you really adore. Silence can even be comforting with the white-haired male. Satoru is in love with you. The warmth in his eyes will never fade, even if he’s feeling particularly nasty to ruin you in bed. His crystal blue eyes refuse to leave you, fingers splaying across your naked back, nails dragging over the hot skin. He clears his throat, trying to bite back a smug expression.

“So, Y/N. Dick for dinner tonight?”

You burst out with laughter, nose scrunching slightly. “Come on.” You say, sitting up and taking hold of his hand, fingers interlocking. You could feel your dried up slick causing his hand to become sticky. “Washing hands and breakfast first. I want your famous pancakes.” You express with a loud kiss to his cheek. Satoru puffs out his chest proudly before helping you off the bed, unbothered by the still wet patches on his slacks. It’s a pleasant reminder, after all.

“Anything for my princess.”

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | everybody talks

a/n: don't love this chapter. definitely a filler, but the next chapter is much more fun!

iii. everybody talks by neon trees

series masterlist | previous | next

tagged chrisr0driguez, travisstoll, and connorstoll.

lukecastell4n: little break but we'll be back so soon poisonedmercury

poisonedmercuryfan: new music????????

castell4nsgf: omg im excited

stollsluvr: ME TOO

chrisr0driguez: we miss you guys already!

lukecastell4n: fr, we miss seeing your beautiful faces on tour :(

travisstoll: working hard

lukecastell4n: hardly working 🥱

connorstoll: give me my guitar back

lukecastell4n: no

--

“mornin’ five star,” luke tossed you one of your probiotic drinks from the fridge as you entered the kitchen. 

you caught it seamlessly, mumbling a quick thank you. it wasn’t even seven am, but the two of you were already awake. it became a routine since it seemed like you both had the same idea. your coach told you that you needed to workout, even though you were on probation, in the off-chance that you’ll be allowed to play again when the season starts. you figured that the campers would be enjoying their vacations and sleeping in so you’d have the community gym to yourself. unfortunately for you, luke castellan was an early bird. 

your gym schedules synced up and you often found yourself having to make small talk with him in the kitchen while you filled up your water bottle before you ditched him to head to the gym. he would trail a respectable distance behind you, giving you your space, as he walked to the gym. the two of you did your separate workouts, sneaking glances at one another because it was a little awkward that you lived together, went to the gym at the same time, but didn’t talk to each other. 

it wasn’t for a lack of trying on luke’s part. he’d tried to talk to you a few times, but it seemed to not be a good idea to start a conversation before you had your morning coffee. it was funny for the first few days, but he was afraid that it would quickly cross the boundary of being quirky and cute to being straight-up annoying. he lived with you and he showed mercy to the rest of your cabinmates by not pushing your buttons. too much. 

he still occasionally indulged in bickering with you, which seemed to be all of your conversations. you always found something new to argue with him about. your dad was right about you being hard-headed and stubborn, but for some reason, luke didn’t mind. his days at camp were fun, at least, as fun as a summer camp could be, and your interactions kept him on his toes. the usual schedule of meals, rehearsals, and attempts to write new songs, became repetitive after a few days, but with you in his face, ready to argue at any moment, it felt like there was something to look forward to. 

you took the foil off your drink, downing it in one go. you tossed it in the recycling bin before turning to him, “do you go to the gym at this hour to spite me?”

luke chuckled, cracking open a red bull, “the word doesn’t revolve around you, you know?” 

“i know that,” you rolled your eyes, “but you can go to the gym any time in the day and you choose to go at the ass crack of dawn. why?” 

“it’s peaceful,” he shrugged, “the machines are empty and i don’t have to wait. it’s nice.” 

“that’s why i go this early.” 

“see,” he smiled, tilting his head. “great minds think alike.” 

you grimaced at his comparison, scrunching your face up. the sun was beginning to rise causing an orange glow to cast on your face. despite waking up so early and sleeping so late– he’d heard you come in with clarisse at 3 am this morning after a late-night smoke session, luke couldn’t see a trace of tiredness on your features. luke envied you. he definitely did not look that good after 3 hours of sleep. 

you fixed the zipper of your sweater, adjusting the bottom of it to better fit your hips. you were wearing a tight-fitting workout outfit, black nike pros, and the usual vans you wore when you worked out. your hair was in a high ponytail keeping it out of your face, which was a good thing. he’d seen how intense your workouts were and you definitely didn’t need to have your hair in your face while you leg pressed 275. 

“i just feel like i see you everywhere,” you commented, “and everyone just wants to talk about you.” 

luke’s eyes twinkled, “what do they say?” 

“luke castellan is so talented, luke castellan is so hot, blah, blah, blah,” you imitated the words you’d heard from other campers, sighing in discontent. “like shut up already. i thought that it would die down after the first day of you guys being here, but it’s been a week and it’s the same thing.” 

luke followed you out the cabin door, walking beside you for the first time since you both started going to the gym at the same time, “well, do you agree with them?” 

you stopped in your tracks, turning to face him. your eyes raked over his face and his body, contemplating. you weren’t blind. you understood why people said what they said about him. luke castellan was attractive with his curls and toned arms and his stupid full lips, which seemed to always be in a smirk, but the hype was too much. and poisoned mercury’s music was good– great even, but you needed to hear something other than how muscular luke castellan was or how his scar made him look rugged or how his voice sounded like angels singing. you were at your breaking point.

luke stood there, rocking back and forth on his toes and the balls of his feet, patiently waiting until you made up your mind. your lips formed a tight line, “i don’t see it.” 

“fuck, five star,” luke scoffed, unable to stop the smile on his face. he shook his head, curls bouncing around, “you sure know how to make a guy feel special.” 

“don’t need to fuel your ego any more than everyone else does,” you replied, continuing your walk to the gym. 

you didn’t seem to mind that luke continued to walk beside you, which was progress, in luke’s mind. his bandmates have been on his ass about trying to be friends with you since the rest of them developed friendships with you and clarisse over the week they’d been here. 

he’d seen you on the couch with chris watching tiktok videos on how to properly take care of his curls a few times. (luke was not stealing some of the curl cream that chris bought per your recommendation. his curls just suddenly became a lot more defined recently.) he watched you play darts with travis at the activities center and argued with him about why he didn’t need to buy a dart set for the cabin. (he agreed with you there. there was an incident in atlanta where connor was sent to the er because travis managed to lodge a dart in connor’s calf after losing a game.) he once saw you, clarisse, and connor return from a swim in the lake in the middle of the night when he stayed up trying to write a song. (the song remains unfinished on his notepad, tucked safely away on his bedside table. he had no inspiration to write any music at the moment.) 

again, it wasn’t for his lack of trying. you just didn’t seem interested in forming a relationship with him outside of being roommates. it was getting to him. just a little bit. he found himself thinking of you a lot. the boys started to comment on how he hadn’t gotten with anyone at camp yet, despite getting numerous offers from older campers and head counselors alike, but luke shrugged it off and said that he didn’t want to start drama so early on in the summer. it wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the whole truth. for some reason, he just couldn’t get you out of his head. 

“i can’t control what people say,” luke said after a moment. “i’m sure it must be so annoying to hear about how great i am.” 

“you are so full of yourself,” you groaned, shooting daggers in his direction. this made him laugh. “you know what you can control, though?” 

“what?” 

“the mess you make in the cabin,” you replied, “seriously, you guys have been here a week and the cabin already looks like a fucking frat house.” 

luke thought about the state of the common area. you were right. the cabin was a mess, empty cans everywhere, crumbs on every surface, and wires from the playstation scattered across the living room floor. the boys weren’t the neatest, they were teenagers after all, and luke had to clean up after them more times than he could count. having his mom on tour meant that he often got stuck with clean-up duty. 

“hey, don’t blame me,” he raised his hands up in defense. “i recycle.” 

“aren’t you a model citizen?” you remarked sarcastically, opening the door to the gym. you pursed your lips, staring at luke. “yeah, i still don’t get it.” 

luke snorted, smiling at you, “have a good workout, five star. looking forward to walking home in silence with you.” 

when you didn’t say anything else, but threw up the middle finger as you walked away, luke couldn’t help but stare at your figure before you disappeared from his view. what a way to start his day. 

– 

“hi, luke,” two girls called as they passed by the boys, waving flirtily at the lead singer. 

luke sent them a smile back, tossing a wink to them that made them giggle as they walked away. it was a miracle that there were no news leaks about where they were. luke’s mom was happy that this arrangement was working out. 

travis swung an arm around luke, “c’mon castellan, save some girls for the rest of us.” 

luke pushed his arm off, laughing, “trav, didn’t you literally go home with a girl on our first night here?” 

“ah, yes, stacy,” travis sighed, dreamily, smirking to himself as he recalled his first night at camp. he shook his head, facing luke again, “but seriously, castellan, ten girls have said hi to you since we left dinner and you’re flirting with them but not doing anything about it.” 

“i promised my mom i’d be good this summer,” he shrugged, stuffing his hands in his front pockets as he led the boys into the cabin. “and i told you guys, it’s too early to start shit. we got the whole summer. spread out your escapades, stoll.” 

luke thought that being back at camp half blood would bring back some terrible memories, especially his last summer there. it was the summer right after his dad left and luke was miserable. he was a moody 8-year-old who yelled at everybody who tried to be his friend, which resulted in him being alone all summer. he sat in the back of the room during music lessons, refused to participate in the end-of-summer performance, and on many nights, cried himself to sleep because he missed his dad. he felt pathetic. 

but so far, surprisingly, camp was actually nice. at his core, luke was a music fanatic, so it was energizing for him to get to talk about his music and his journey to stardom. his favorite interaction so far was with two, younger boys, who enthusiastically approached him and said that they were learning how to play guitar and sing because they looked up to the band. it was a little concerning at first, given that the band’s reputation wasn’t necessarily kid-appropriate, but he appreciated the sentiment. grover and percy walked away grinning from ear to ear when luke made them promise that they’d stop by again soon to show him their progress. 

luke sat on the bar chair, watching as connor and chris turned on the playstation, mumbling about a rematch on 2k to prove that one was better than the other. many things changed in all of their lives, but some things stayed the same. they were still just four best friends; the difference was, now, they got to travel the world together doing what they loved. 

chris and luke met in their freshman english class. chris let it slip that he was learning how to play bass because his mom warned him that if he broke another bone trying to skateboard, he’d have to walk to the hospital himself. she was joking, of course, but chris figured that after two years of failed attempts at learning how to skate, he should hang it up. 

he decided to try his hand at music and the bass became his new hyperfixation. they started writing music in luke’s old bedroom in connecticut shortly after. for years, the songs were just for them. they recorded it on shitty equipment and used garageband to fill in the instrumentals until they met the stolls. the stolls, luke’s neighbors who moved into town when luke was 16, heard them trying to figure out a hook for a song they were writing and offered some help. travis, with connor behind him, introduced themselves and the rest is history. 

poisoned mercury was born. travis convinced the other three that their music was good, that they should go out and play at local cafes and bars. at 16, luke became the front man of poisoned mercury. the song the four of them wrote together on their first day as a band, became the lead single of their debut album. kilby girl spent thirteen weeks on billboard top 50 and in less than a year and a half, the boys had a record deal with olympus records and they were heading off to start the north american leg of their world tour. 

you walked into the cabin with clarisse, laughing as she explained the incident that caused her to have glitter all over her face and her hair. one of her campers was having trouble opening the glitter jar and when she came over to help, the top popped off and glitter sprayed all over her. 

“i feel glitter everywhere,” she shuddered, “i need a shower before we help out with concert prep.” 

you looked around the cabin, grimacing, “it smells like boy in here.” 

“it’s our bachelor pad,” travis called out from the kitchen. he walked out into the living room with a fresh hot pocket in his hand, eyes widening at the sight of clarisse, “woah, what happened to you?” 

“arts and crafts day,” clarisse cringed, falling into the couch cushions. “i’m gonna be covered in glitter for days.” 

“hey, watch out,” connor paused the game he was playing with chris, shoving clarisse slightly. “you’re gonna get glitter everywhere.” 

“ah, yes, because having glitter is going to ruin the aesthetic of empty cans and half-eaten chip bags?” clarisse cocked an eyebrow, pointing at the mess the boys made. you and her were engaged in a passionate rant about how much it sucked living with teenage boys before your arrival to the cabin. 

“we’ll clean up,” chris rubbed the back of his neck, sheepishly glancing at clarisse. you had a feeling that cleaning was the last thing on their agenda. 

you sat on the bar stool across from luke, “i didn’t expect to live in the mojo dojo casa house this summer.” 

“the what?” 

“from barbie,” you replied, “when the kens take over barbieland?” 

luke shook his head, “haven’t seen it.” 

of course, he hasn’t seen it. clarisse and the boys fell into a conversation about how she accidentally got glitter bombed. luke watched you as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone, occasionally letting a chuckle leave your lips when you found something funny. he felt a little creepy staring at you like this, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. 

the sun was shining behind you, a soft glow framing your face and it made your brown eyes look like pools of honey. your nose piercing was iridescent under the light, which made luke’s eyebrows raise in surprise. he thought it was just plain silver, but when you tilted your head in certain directions, he could see sparkles of purple and pink. your long hair was thrown messily over your shoulders, a few tangles here and there, and the god-awful, orange camp half blood shirt you wore actually suited you. luke was a firm believer that nobody looked good in orange until he saw you in it.

“you’re staring,” you mumbled, looking up at him. “don’t tell me i have glitter on my face now too.” 

luke cleared his throat, playing with the chain around his neck, “yeah, like a tiny speck on your cheek.” 

you groaned, rubbing the right side of your face, “is it gone?” 

you didn’t actually have any glitter on your face, but luke figured it would be less awkward to say that you did instead of telling you that he was staring just to stare. he nodded, “you got it.” 

“thanks, i cannot deal with glitter,” you got up, walking over to the group. “hey, we can use some help with prep for next week’s concert if you guys are free.” 

“we’re not doing anything, right?” connor looked around. travis and chris shook their heads. “what about you, castellan?” 

“nah, i can’t,” luke said, “promised mom i’d try to write at least one song this summer and i’ve been in a rut so i think i’ll try to do that. you guys have fun though.” 

“perfect,” you smiled, “we can leave after clar gets out the shower.” 

they sent you a thumbs-up before you walked into your room. clarisse disappeared into the bathroom shortly after. luke took clarisse’s spot once you both left. he propped his feet up on the small table in front of him, leaning back on his seat. he waited patiently for the sound of the showers to turn on before he spoke, “she’s hot.” 

“yeah, she is,” chris said, hitting play on their game. 

“don’t even think about it, castellan. when i said start a relationship with her, this is not what i meant,” connor remarked, shaking his head, “we are not gonna fuck up our relationship with mr. d because you can’t keep it in your pants.” 

“oh, you’re talking about y/n?” the three boys stared at chris, who sunk into his seat, blushing furiously. luke narrowed his eyes at chris, a playful smile on his lips. he’ll have to ask him about that later. 

travis blinked, bringing his attention to his brother, “s’not like castellan has a chance anyway.”

luke’s head snapped to travis, “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“i mean she’s out of your league, big guy,” travis shrugged. 

“well, yeah,” luke rubbed his jaw. he wasn’t that dumb to believe that you were in his league. you were lightyears ahead of him. he’d been rejected before, of course he had, but not since poisoned mercury got big– again, really bad for his ego – but he’d never been counted out before he even threw his hat in the ring. 

“i’m with trav on this one, luke. don’t fuck it up.” 

luke stared at his friends in disbelief, “can’t y’all have a little faith in me?” 

“no,” they said in unison. 

“fuck you guys,” luke flipped them off, ignoring their snickers. “i’m going for a smoke.” 

he really needed to get you out of his head.

[undercoverpena]

i. to fix a porch

joel miller x f!reader | chapter one of honey stained hands

chapter summary: it’s why he allows himself the chance to look, to admire. His hand slides in yours all over again, as you offer your name—dutifully exchanged. and all he can think is, you’re a pretty thing. He’s seen pretty, laid with it lifetimes ago, but there’s something different in you.

wordcount: 3.5k warnings: typical canon-angst. my spelling. joel trying to fit in and be good for ellie. an: i am so nervous about this. i hope you like. huge thanks to @guyfieriii + @thetriumphantpanda for holding both my hands.

The world had gone to shit, but the world hadn’t gone to shit.

It still grew, expanded—and changed.

Just as it once had. The grass didn’t stop turning green. The trees didn’t stop rustling, the flowers didn’t stop pollinating between bones and disintegrating fabric.

Nature, in all its immensity, didn’t bow to the cordyceps that stole minds and whispered destruction along roads and grass. Nature didn’t allow the rot to take the seasons, as it had done with so many other things.

The end of times wasn’t allowed to touch the moon’s schedule. It didn’t have an impact on how the daylight grew shorter and the night span longer. It had no bearing on the way leaves turned golden, the dew appeared on tall grass, or how both danced under amber-rising and lemon-setting suns.

The outbreak took souls, but it didn’t rid the craved scents of stews and freshly baked apples—two aromas that flooded Jackson's roads.

Mostly, even if something else thrummed along the ground, and spoke in claimed lives, it couldn’t try and claim to have any effect on the way frost made the morning path glitter—or how it made the world still feel magical.

Fungus had stolen a lot. Had spread its poison across state lines and once happy towns. But it couldn’t thieve the natural beauty that shifted in three monthly turns.

He wakes in a sea of sweat, panic and desperation. Forehead clammy. Salt and pepper hair clinging in thin spider-leg lines against the creases of his frown.

Each morning, since Joel has been here, has followed the same pattern. The shadowy nightmares were still there, ever-present—swirling and twirling, not ready to stop their dance. Even if the sun is blasting through, informing them it’s morning—it’s the time their claws should retract and allow him to experience a new day.

They never really do. They remain, hanging in the edges of his thoughts, his eyes—even as sleeping thoughts diluted into the present day.

Just the same as he did yesterday and the day before, his closed fist rubs in gentle circles against his chest—right over his heart. Where it thumps and beats, hammering quickly. Fingers and palm attempting to soothe it, half-wishing he could weave under milk-white bone and release the guilt-wrapped tendrils around it.

It doesn’t matter what his routine involves, it’s all in vain.

Little to nothing alleviates it. Not the circles of his hand over the bobbled t-shirt he sleeps in or the way he wills himself to breathe, to fill his lungs—advice given against his will.

Joel has attempted a lot of things, but the tightness always remains. The imaginary vines forever constricting, all stemmed with thorns, digging in, tightening their hold as he struggled to gasp, never mind breathe. It’s like a fungus of its own, a thing poisoning him, ruining him, blackening what’s left of his soul.

All because he made a choice—one he’d make a thousand times (if given the chance).

Blinking, he slowly sits. Back aching, body groaning as the honeyed sun coats the place he calls his. It flutters over the set of drawers, the flannel draped over the handle of his closet, and the strings of the guitar, gifted by Tommy to keep him busy and out of trouble.

It’s a good place he’s found himself in. A normal place—one found in the centre of moving on and trying to live life. Something he gives enough of a shit not to let it be torn from him and a thing he worries is being tugged from his grip all the same.

One wrong move.

That’s what he hears, even if no one says it. It never leaves their lips, but instead is etched into the faces of everyone he has been introduced to. It was discernible on his sister-in-law's face when he and Ellie appeared; it was poorly concealed by his brother when he’d handed him the instrument.

So much so, that he’s become worried all of this—the safety, the future for Ellie—will be taken from him if he breathes wrong. If he makes eye contact a little too quickly, a little too sternly, too forcibly and not followed quickly enough by a half-smile.

He tries. Not for him, but for her. The same person he keeps his jeans close by and his t-shirt on for—the one that makes him sleep on the side so his good ear can hear a scream of his name—just in case. The same person who manages to shift off the worry, dusting him down without knowing the impact she has on him—the young person who forms him, shapes him into someone half-decent, who is willing to try, who is willing to do things with his hands that isn’t fighting or shooting.

The only time Ellie has shouted for him since being here, though, is for breakfast.

Now, the house is silent—too silent. A smile almost appearing all on its own. An image bubbling, appearing, blanketing over the nightmares that tried to linger. One of her, in her new bedroom—the one she keeps talking about painting—all asleep, mouth open, catching flies.

Joel snorts, swallowing it back. All of the darkness that is weaved inside of him. Focuses on the little flecks of dust that glitter in the glow of a new day, how they fall absently in the space between light and dark—making a choice, one he makes each day, to be here. To try.

His hand slides from his chest, landing on his wrist. Sighing, he closes his eyes and lets his thumb slide over the broken glass of his watch—the one he never removes—another thing he does daily. Another thing that has become a routine.

He knew what Jackson was when he arrived the second time. A communal, a place where everyone chips in.

Joel had expected something more to be requested from him. Almost braced to be told he would be stationed on the other side of the gate—in a more permanent role than others. But, he wasn’t.

If anything, he was given tasks.

Menial things, but tasks all the same.

Little jobs, all reminiscent of a handyman back before things to fungus and rot. Oddities, bits and bobs. Projects half-finished or never begun at all—assigned, handed to him, chosen for him because he’s there and capable. And not, as Tommy explains, is because no one trusts him.

The first had been his own porch. The wood split, cracked, creaking—an accident waiting to happen (a thing he’d muttered to Tommy when he’d first walked up the steps of it), more so as the days became shorter and the nights loomed closer.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to find a toolbox placed at his feet the next day. A smug look on his younger brother’s face: think it’s time y’fix y’damn porch, brother. A clap on the back to cement it, a promise silently exchanged—that he could ask more of him when he was done.

And Tommy did, just not how he expected.

His breath mists the same as Tommy’s when he sighs, the weather biting as the two hovered on his newly repaired porch: got something else for you to do.

Maybe he should have said something when the silence filled the air when Joel suggested after. That he’d be good on patrol, that he could help in ways that weren’t repairing porches, front of shops and whatever else he brought to his door. If not for the fact he was grateful for the chance, for her—for the girl who is slowly making friends, who is beginning to smile—he may have done. The old Joel would have. He’d have pointed out that his skin isn’t stained with scarlet, that his hands are worn, but not smeared with the guts of those who’d crossed him. That he’d hung up as much of the former demons as he could.

He suspected, deep down, that Tommy could still see them haunting him. Knew that they kept him awake when the world went silent—that Joel didn’t sleep until the moon was at its highest, and woke with them jeering at him, perched on his shoulders, poking holes into his soul.

Joel also presumed that Tommy could see the way guilt had looped itself inside of him, strangling, making truthfulness harder to spill. Even if Tommy had no idea. Even if Joel hadn’t whispered to even the animals, never mind a person, what happened before he and Ellie had arrived.

So, he doesn’t argue, not as he’s handed another task, and another, then another. Days seep into weeks, weeks ticking into another month. Each time, his jaw grits, and his head nods, all well-versed, practised, as he picks up his toolbox and heads where he’s needed.

Except, today, when he’d finished up the fence that contained the sheep, a request came from someone else—a person he had spotted, but never spoken to. They were weary, guarded—approaching with caution as though bracing for him to snap, to become the callous individual they’ve likely heard through the whispers of gossiped stories.

In time, they approach, asking, burying their hands into their pockets as they do, before they continue with their reasoning for the request—one not for themself, but another person in Jackson.

A person Joel realised was his neighbour.

He’d been a good neighbour once, almost a lifetime ago.

Had hoped that it would come to him when Tommy had introduced him to you the following morning after he and Ellie returned. Your hand in his, smaller, but warm, a smile that was inviting, but slid over to Ellie upon Tommy’s introduction.

You usually rose early, that he had learnt when he’d begun to watch the sunrise before the leaves not just changed, but began to litter the floor in an array of shades. A pattern of habits he had picked up when he’d descended his own staircase, finding you already passing his home or your lights were on, already busy ticking off the hours of your day.

Today, he’d spotted (thankfully) the latter. His coat was thrown on, boots stepped into, toolbox in hand before he closed his door behind him and headed over. Your name on the tip of his tongue, all heavy, thick—an array of unsorted letters he’s hoping will shift into something as he climbs the steps to your front door. The syllables there, desperate to form, but in no order when his hand lifts to knock.

Air is what greets him, as the door rips open before his knuckles can even make contact.

Now, he’s standing in front of you—again. Your eyes land on him, brushing over in thick strokes of warmth, and all he can focus on is how you don’t step back in fright or stand a little taller. If anything, you don’t react, don’t move, as though it’s normal he’s there standing, talking to you.

“Oh, hi? It’s Joel, isn’t it?”

It’s kind, sweet, your tone. Eyes wide in a way that reminds him of a surprised, small animal—except, you’re grinning, not spooked. No sign of fear or question sketched across your features, or into the rest of your face, not as he stands, hovering.

It’s why he allows himself the chance to look, to admire. His hand slides in yours all over again, as you offer your name—dutifully exchanged.

And all he can think is, you’re a pretty thing. He’s seen pretty, laid with it lifetimes ago, but there’s something different in you. Something that has remained, that has weathered the storm of whatever it is, and however you came to be. Your smile rises, sliding into your cheeks, as his brain snaps a Polaroid of it and stores it somewhere less dusty in his mind.

“I just have to nip out, do you need something?”

Your hand sliding a jacket—one he’d just noticed in your hand—around your frame. It buries you, smothering, hiding yourself into it as you pull it around, watching, studying him as he does the same to you.

Shaking his head, he glances at your porch. “No, ma’am. Jus’ here to fix your porch.”

Sighing, you roll your eyes. “I make one comment and… anyway, I don’t want to trouble you. You don’t have to.”

“Maybe I want to.”

Looking down, you stare around at the porch. Him waiting, watching. “Guess it’s lucky for you, I wasn’t planning on taking it with me.”

It tugs from him, not forcibly pulled, but rather rolling from his mouth willingly: a laugh. It’s gruff, covered in cobwebs and sheets. It’s different, laughing with an adult compared to a pun book in the hands of a child.

“Well, definitely makes my life a bit easier that you’re not.”

Smirking, you lick your lips—a thing he spots, and finds makes his cheeks burn. “Yeah, guessing that following me around the animal pen wouldn’t be your favourite thing… after the other day.”

His eyes narrow, attempting to follow—until it dawns. Until it slams into him.

“You saw.”

“I did. Roscoe is a very boisterous sheep, though. So, it’s more on him than you.”

Cursing under his breath, he dips his head. Trying to stifle the embarrassment, the one rising in him like a phoenix, swarming up.

“Anyway, do you need any tools…”

That’s when he notices how your voice dies, your smile fading. Your words all fall from existence as the warmth around the two of you suddenly chills, as though he’s been plunged into a snowstorm. Your eyes had dropped, landing on the box in his hand.

It’s long, too long.

Almost prolonged, the quietness shifting into awkwardness until you’re blinking, head lifting, chin rising, determined and full of insolence.

“I’ll be back soon, yeah?”

Nodding, he swallows. Ignoring, for your sake, that your voice cracks before you’re hurrying past him. Watching, and staring until you’re a blip, a little figure in the distance of the cold morning—unable to forget about it, the look, the one that unhooked something in him.

Because it made him question—made him want to ask.

His hand shifts around the handle of the toolbox, staring down at it—the one he suspects belongs to someone you knew, someone you were close to. One that is in the hands of someone you don’t know, someone you live next to, that you know nothing about.

Except stories.

And fuck, Joel knows the stories can’t be good.

Joel had maybe made an assumption that you’d never speak to him again.

Sarah’s voice, barely discernable, wafting around his mind, assumptions make an ass of you and me, dad. He blamed it on being bitter, tired—or grumpy, as Ellie liked to call him. The kind of qualities he’d rather be known for, than the ones he sees reflected in the eyes of the people living here, wondering the kind of man he was to go back out there and then return.

He’d made the assumption based on the way your eyes flicked to the toolbox when you’d eventually returned home—him halfway done, waving away your offer to help. You barely spoke, and skirted around him, only placing a glass of lemonade on the welcome mat as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

He drained the glass, and hated how good it tasted. Keeping in mind to leave the toolbox outside when he rapped his knuckles on your open door to bring the glass back in, inform you that he’s done. You call out to him, eventually coming into view—apron on, doused in flour, cheeks and smile smothered in it.

For a moment, he could almost forget an outbreak had even happened with the way you looked at him—the way you looked in general. Something out of one of those cooking shows that play at ridiculous hours of the night; a thing that’d had a street talking about with sweet you sounded.

“I bake—sometimes,” you announce, hands down your apron, leaving flour-finger strokes against the navy blue.

He could see that. Placing the glass on the side, thanking you—watching you glance around him, likely for that. He almost tells you, informs you it’s outside, left on your porch. But, he waves himself off as a beeping begins, that he’ll get out of your hair, because you’re busy—knowing deep down it’s the right thing to do.

That’s how he left it.

Nothing more, nothing less.

His thoughts sliding to you when he saw you talking to others; his mind unable to rid himself of the way you’d looked at the box he’d been given to be a helping hand.

So, it surprised him when he watched you climb the steps of his porch from outside Tommy’s. Something in his chest narrowing—different from the way it does when he wakes up in the morning. Observing how you’re nervously shaking your free hand, moving from one foot to the other—a thin t-shirt covering your frame (no coat or jacket on your arms) as you try to stand still in the chill at his dark doorstep.

It’s only as he nears that he sees what your other hand is holding. A bottle, the contents from appearing amber in shade. The hesitancy woven into your figure is more prominent as he reaches his own boundary, unsure whether to clear his throat—and only doing so when you knock.

“Heard he’s out fixing more porches.”

Turning, he finds you smirking. Spinning around on your heels, slowly taking a step down—still above him—before your hand gestures for him to take the bottle. “A thank you.”

Thank you, he thinks, staring at it. His thumb catches your fingers as he tries to ignore the twist and knot of his stomach when he eyes the label. It used to help, for all the wrong reasons. It’s why he’d tried not to drink since arriving here, still able to remember how it used to scratch an itch, how it smothered over scabs—ones that never healed.

It unlocks that part of him that worries that they’ll become inflamed again. All raw, hot to the touch.

“Y’didnt need to.”

“Well, it was alcohol or baked goods—and you strike me as a drinker over shortbread.”

Snorting, he lifted his head, swallowing. “I do like shortbread.”

Your face lights up—shimmers—under the slowly setting sun. A part of him wishing you’d brought him a tin of those instead.

Because the main reason he hadn’t been to the Tipsy Bison is that he preferred the version of him that didn’t drink. The one from before all of this happened—the one with a clearer mind. One that isn’t trying to run but rather settle and live—the one that comes out when he tastes something akin to what he shared with Tess.

The bottle in his hand demands his attention—a note attached to it that reads the same as your words. Gratitude humming, rolling from you, all in plenty. The entry at being neighbours suddenly ajar, the door taken from the hinges so it can never be closed again.

“Next time, then?”

You say it purposeful, full of genuine nature. And, it makes him roll his jaw, biting the inside of his cheek. Palm and fingers still clutching the bottle—unsure if he likes this. The neighbour thing—the pretty neighbour thing. Especially one who looks at him with a sweet smile and who makes lemonade just because.

“I should go, don’t want to interrupt your evening—”

“Well, the only thing you’re interrupting is whether or not I should open this now or wait.”

You stop moving at that, coming to a stop in front of him, smile broadening, almost turning into a smirk. “

Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighs. “Got another job in the morning. Be a lot on my own.”

“What problems to have, ay?”

He snorts.

But then, he finds you nodding, licking your lips. “How about this, for the safety of the porches of Jackson, I’ll help you with your problem.”

“And what’s my problem?”

“You don’t wanna drink alone—likely worried about what it means if you do.”

You say it nonchalantly, as though seeing through him was a relatively easy task. Your body is still not moving; the cold either not bothering you, or you are faking it all so well.

“Alright.”

“Alright,” you say, slightly more chipper than him.

CHAPTER TWO ->

[fishsticksloser]

Heartache

Hobie x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, comfort, slight open ending (but I have a feeling I know what most people will pick)

A/N: I didn't expect part one to be so loved. Wow. I'm stunned and just... Really flattered. Thank you guys so much. Apologizes, I don't use text talk at all, I text like I would talk in person. Also! You can now request Spiderverse characters (as long as they're on my masterlist)

Preface  |  Bad

It's been months since Hobie dumped you. You tried to move on, but it was difficult. You had a box of his things to give back, but yet you couldn't part with some of them. The feeling and smell of his hoodies were a comfort, but you knew you had to give them back. Hobie hadn't spoken to you since that night. You texted to ask when and where he'd pick up his things, but got no answer. You missed him. you weren't sleeping, your eating schedule was also messed up. But you didn't blame him or yourself. Sometimes things are just destined to fall apart.

You hear his car outside, which comes as a surprise. He’s never come back here before. The knock on your door echoes throughout the house, sending goosebumps down your body. You approach the door, heart in your throat, and open it slowly, finding Hobie. His face is guarded, eyes downcast, his usual smirk replaced with a tense expression. He holds his keys in one hand, a duffel bag in the other, and your hoodie, freshly laundered. You can smell the detergent, but it doesn’t get rid of his unique scent.

"I'm guessing you're here for you things...?" You ask softly, not expecting him to come here. You step aside for him to come in.

"We need to talk," he says, stepping inside slowly. You’re not sure if you like this new serious vibe of his. It’s almost as if he’s a bit... frightened? He’s always been so sure of himself that seeing this side of him almost makes him feel like a stranger. He shifts his weight nervously and looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to respond or say something first.

"Okay...?" You mumble, closing the door behind him. You turn to face him, waiting for him to continue. He stares at you for a moment, biting his lower lip unconsciously before he speaks again.

"I miss you." It’s simple, blunt, and leaves you speechless at first. You know you’ve missed him too. He must have noticed that you hadn’t responded to his texts. "It hurts to be without you... And the more I think about it, the more I realize that you’re important to me." He takes a deep breath, looking down at his jeans for a moment before he looks up. "I don’t want to lose you."

You tug on your clothes anxiously, having not slept well since he dumped you and eating less. "You should've thought of that before you dumped me... And said all those things."

"I know… I’m sorry, Y/N. Fuck... I really am." He takes a deep breath before continuing. "I made a mistake, okay? I’m here to fix it. Let’s just start from the beginning, we don’t have to go any further than that. Just, please… give me another chance."

You’ve never seen him this serious before, the gravity of his actions seem to have finally hit him. The usual arrogance he exudes is completely gone, instead replaced with humility, and his eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen them. It’s almost hard to be angry at him—he looks so vulnerable.

"Hobie..." You shake your head and step away, your back against the door. "You-You can't just expect me to welcome you with open arms. You hurt me... Badly..."

"I understand I hurt you. Please, just… let me make it up to you." He continues. “I don’t want anyone else. I want you, Y/N.” His eyes are filled with emotion, raw and vulnerable. Everything inside of him aches knowing that he could lose you because of his stupidity. He reaches out towards you, his hand outstretched, and his gaze is desperate. "What do I have to do to prove to you how much you mean to me, Y/N?" He asks, his voice breaking slightly.

"If you actually wanted to change and try again, you have to do it yourself." You don't move away from his outstretched hand. "I'm not going to tell you how to fix things, you have to do it because I tried... So many times..."

He looks like he’s about to say something—then thinks better of it, looking down. "You’re right." He says finally, nodding slowly. "What do you need from me… to show you that I want this?" He looks up nervously, waiting for your response.

"Show me that you want to try again... And do it right..." You wrap your arms around yourself. "We aren't together anymore, so... Do what you'd do if you wanted to date me... Like when we first met."

"I’ve missed you so much and I know I hurt you… But I promise to make it up to you in any way I can." Hobie glances into the box of his things, the Spider-Totem still poking out from the pile. He smiles and pulls it out, offering it back to you with a sheepish grin. "Do you mind if I have this back?"

"I gave that to you... it's yours." You nod, holding the box out for him to take. "Everything in this box is yours." He takes a moment to look at the box—memories flooding back as he looks at all the things he had left behind. He nods and accepts the box. "Well... You have my number, so... Whenever you decide, let me know."

"I will." He responds, taking another step towards you. This is an important moment for him: he wants to make sure that he gets it right and doesn’t lose you again for his own stupidity. He reaches out for you again, smiling warmly, with that same boyish earnestness he always wears around you. "I promise to be the best partner I can and make it up to you in any way I can."

"Remember... We're starting over... Like the last 3 years didn't happen..."

"'Starting over, from the very beginning'—I know. It means so much to me that you’re giving me another chance.... And I won’t screw it up." He says with a warm smile, stepping through the doorway and waving back at you as he leaves. "I’ll message you soon."

You watch as he walks away—his black hair glinting in the sunlight, as he heads towards his car with the box of his things under his arm. You shut the door once the last of his things are outside and take a moment to consider everything that just happened. Starting over... Starting over. Which means another first date, another first kiss... So many firsts you get to have another try at. And hopefully this time, he stays. It looks like he really is taking you seriously, and you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so loved and appreciated—even if there’s something in the pit of your stomach that’s telling you to be cautious. It feels good to feel wanted for a change…

🎸⋆⁺₊⋆♱🕷♱⋆⁺₊⋆🎸

It takes almost a week, but finally, you get a text from Hobie.

🕷🖤: Hey! I was thinking maybe we could meet at that cute café we used to go to? I figured it’s a safe, easy place to talk. Does that sound all right with you?

You: Sounds good. What day and time?

🕷🖤: How about tomorrow afternoon? Like… 2 o’clock? I was hoping after that we could take a walk… Is that okay with you?

You know that he’s been busy recently, so you didn’t want to ask for too much of his time.

You: Sounds good to me. I'll meet you there.

The next morning flies by in a whirlwind of anxiety and excitement. It feels like you’re seeing Hobie for the first time all over again. You feel so nervous just thinking about it—the possibility of it finally working out is so much to handle.

You head over to the quaint little café he had suggested, eager to see him. The café has an outdoor seating area that looks pleasant, and you find an empty table. You take a seat and wait for him, fingers nervously fidgeting on the tabletop. After a few minutes, you see him walking in through the cafe’s front door. He looks over at you, and the corners of his mouth turn up in that signature smirk that you never knew you missed. He walks over and takes a seat in the outdoor diner across from you, looking you over and admiring your appearance before smirking again.

"Hey," he says, holding the menu up for the waiter. "You look nice." He adds quietly, with a shy, boyish smile.

"You're late."

"Am not!" He replies, slightly defensive. You can tell he’s not really upset, but he’s clearly trying to hide his embarrassment and cover it up. He tilts his head back and checks his watch before rolling his eyes. "Yeah… you might be right, actually." He scoffs, shaking his head with a smile. You’ve never seen him look quite this… cute.

"10 minutes." You tell him, pushing his coffee to him. You'd ordered it, knowing what he preferred.

"Alright, alright," he says, chuckling. "Just don’t rub it in. I know I messed up." He takes a small sip of his coffee, watching you over the rim of his cup. The shyness he’s showing is very much out of character for him, and his sudden shy demeanor is almost… endearing? You can’t help but notice how handsome he is. The afternoon sunshine hits his gorgeous face in a way that makes you think, Maybe things really will work out this time.

After you finish eating, you go on a walk. You don't hold hands, you don't touch each other at all in fact. Just two friends out for a walk. Two friends that have a bit of history between them. And two friends who might just be trying to rekindle that lost spark.

You wonder if he notices that you’re keeping your distance, too—he’s been pretty careful not to break that touch barrier. He wants to prove that he’s changed, so he’s trying to play it cool at the moment. As much as it’ll eat him alive being so patient, if he wants things to work out, he’s going to stay on his best behavior.

You two walk past a bench in the park, and he gestures to it softly.

"Wanna take a seat?" He asks quietly, sitting down on the bench and spreading his legs out in front of him. He glances at you, a little curious why you’ve been so quiet—usually, you two have small talk for days. Is something the matter? He seems to ask, through his expression alone.

You take a seat next to him. You're not sure what to say. He watches you carefully, waiting for you to speak. You can see the tension rolling off of him by now—he expected a talk here, and he wants to get it over with. He’s been on edge all day, waiting for you to confront him about... something.

When you remain quiet, he looks away slightly, glancing out at the park around you while he waits for you to speak. "If something’s wrong, we should talk it out." He says after a few minutes, his voice quieter than even it was at the coffee shop.

"What you said really hurt me." You confess, looking down as you fidget with your hands. "You told me that your activism and band were more important than me, that I was second place. I guess... I guess I'm have trouble getting past that."

His head drops a little, and he sighs. "I know I have a habit of saying whatever I’m thinking at a certain moment." He explains quietly. "Without thinking about the consequences of… how I word things." He shifts slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he lets out a sigh. "I guess what I… should’ve said in that moment was that I’m always going to fight for what I believe in, no matter what. But that doesn’t mean I care about you any less…"

"But you thought I was less than." You mumble, not looking at him.

"…You’re not," he responds immediately. His voice is soft, and it’s obvious that he really means it this time—like he’s being completely sincere. His feelings for you are real, true, and as deep as ever. "You’re my partner," he continues. "My soulmate. You’ve always been more important than anything else in my life—I just didn’t see it that way, before. You’re right that I prioritized the wrong things, and I’m sorry for making you feel unappreciated."

"I didn't just feel unappreciated." You shake your head, sighing. "I felt unwanted, unworthy..." Then you whisper. "Like maybe it was because you'd found someone else...?"

"God, no, I didn’t!" He replies, shaking his head and looking at you in shock. If he had known that his neglect would make you think that, he swears he would never have acted that way towards you. He regrets being so self-absorbed—he wishes he could take it all back, but he can’t. All he can do now is show you that he’s changed. "I love you," he says, his voice still quiet, as though it might break if he says it any louder.

You look at him shocked. Those 3 words. He'd never said them before. Those 3 stupid words that you'd always wanted to hear him say. He waits for you to respond, his heart pounding in his ear—he can’t believe he finally said it. He really, truly loves you, and hearing himself say it out loud to you is… so freeing. He just wants to feel your arms around him right now. He hopes that you feel the same way about him, too.

"I love you," he repeats, more clearly this time. He can’t help the smile that spreads across his lips, though it doesn’t fade his nervous expression as he awaits your response. He’s never that before, though he always felt it… now, it’s just nice to be able to say it without any hesitation.

"I love you too..." You answer, still shocked. He smiles, seeming surprised that you answered so quickly. Though the nervousness is still there, he looks like he’s more at ease now. You can see the light in his eyes come back—he still has a long way to go to earn the trust you once had in him, but maybe his feelings are genuine after all—and that makes it easier to believe in him again.

He reaches out to hold your hand. It’s subtle, but something about it is really sweet. He wants to show you that he cares for you. You take his hand without hesitation, your fingers folding together with his. His hand feels warm against yours, and the way the sunlight glistens off of your skin makes you feel all tingly inside. Something about the way he looks at you… as though your relationship was always going to end like this… it makes your stomach twist in the best way possible.

It’s the first step towards getting you back into the place in his heart that you deserve. At least now, he finally knows where his priorities should be. You’re his top priority—always.

You lean forward slightly, an invitation. Yes... Again, you'd made a deal to start over. But after 3 years... Was that really possible? Especially after Hobie finally said those 3 words.

You lean a little closer, and so does he. He looks at you as though he would die if he didn’t kiss you right now. He kisses you tenderly, his other hand coming to rest against the small of your back, holding you close to him. The kiss is gentle, slow, and passionate. At first, neither of you wants to pull away, but as the moment draws to a close after a few minutes, you both part, breathing heavily. God, you could kiss him forever… and you never want this moment to end.

Maybe it really is possible. You always heard that people who loved each other would be able to stay together no matter what—and now, you and Hobie get to put it to the test.

"Do you think we could try again...?" He asks softly, smiling at you. You always knew he was good with his words, and he knows damn well how pretty he looks at the moment. That charming smile of his would be enough to charm anyone, you’re sure of it.

🕷ᵗᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ: @xxmadamjinxx │ @abbiejoker10 │ @freeingrebels │ @xoxobabe │ @jojo-munson │ @maya-custodios-dionach │ @wisteriaflowersss │ @aaura3 │

[ghostphys]

Update after a week of doing this:

So it’s finally update time! Thank you all for the support on my post about this, it really meant a lot!!

I’m going to list the pros and cons of my little experiment, then add a summary/TLDR at the end of the post. This is probably going to be quite a long post as it was definitely an interesting 5 days. P.S, if you have any questions please ask! I’m 100% willing to answer.

Pros:

• My time spent studying over doubled this week. This was the most obvious pro (and the one I was kind of hoping for the most) and I’m so proud of myself for how much I managed to get done. I studied for an average of 4hours/day, whereas before I was only doing 2.

• Studying felt so much more relaxing and productive at night. This probably contributed to the increase in studying; I found I enjoyed studying more, was able to pay attention for longer periods of time, and it started to feel less like a chore, and more like a hobby.

• I started to feel more present in the moment, especially on the bus travelling to/from uni. This wasn’t something I was really expecting, but I think also was partially a result of me deleting social media (which i can totally make another post on if that’s of interest). But where I used to sleep on the bus, or even just daydream, I started to read books, look over notes, and just feel a lot more present in general, which was a fresh of breath air honestly.

• I actually felt a lot less tired while at uni. I think this is most likely due to having been awake for a while before even travelling, so I had plenty of time to wake up. As someone who suffers from both physical and mental health issues, this was really important to me and i was so so much more focused during lectures and just generally wow it was amazing.

Cons:

• Although I found it easier to study, I dedicated a lot less time to keeping my room/study area tidy. I’m not sure exactly why this was, I think maybe just moving around to tidy up at 2/3am felt a bit wrong as I was scared to make too much noise? I think the way around this would be to just tidy right before sleeping at around 6pm, but this was probably my least favourite of the cons:(

• No time for social life outside of uni. Unless your friends are all also borderline nocturnal, then yeah if you are a person who loves going out etc then this is not the schedule for you. Fortunately for me my friends already know i sleep a lot, so most of our socialising happens in between lectures during uni time. (And by that I mean going to cafés and doing even more studying).

• It was kind of hard to figure out mealtimes? Eventually I settled on only having two meals a day, but just increasing portions sizes, and having more snacks in between. This is just what worked best for me, and this wasn’t a huge con tbh, just kind of confusing at first.

• It was so much easier to just hit snooze on my alarms. Because I didn’t have to worry about a bus to catch or anything forcing me to wake up, I found myself saying ‘just five more minutes’ way more times than I should have. I definitely slept in one day sadly. I think this is definitely preventable, I’m sure there are special alarm apps to help with this sort of thing, and i’ll probably be checking that out.

Summary/TLDR: This was such a fun experience for me, I’m really super proud of myself for trying this out and for improving my studying! All in all I definitely found this to be a positive experience, obviously that’s a personal thing so please don’t take my word to be truth! But just in my experience I really found it to help my mental aspect of studying as well as just physically doing more. Although my room got a bit messier, and I kind of just got disoriented about the time of day sometimes, I definitely think these are things that could have been fixed.

Disclaimer: I only tried this for a week which is definitely not enough time to fully change your sleep schedule, and I am obviously not a professional in this field or in research. This was just a fun little experiment and a chance for me to talk about my personal experience. I’m not encouraging this behaviour or saying it is healthy. (I am not informed about the effects on health this would have long term). Do not take some random person on tumblr’s experience as a holy grail of truth or something like that.

[hearts4golbach]

The Night Shift.

Chapter 7.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

I sat at the counter with my notebook and pen, scribbling down ideas for new recipes or drinks. My mind frequently wandered to johnnie, and it worried me. I couldn't get what Jake asked me out of my brain. did I like johnnie? I couldn't tell if what I was feeling was just having a really good friend or something more. I cringed at myself. I doodled on the side of my page, drawing hearts and stars until someone walked in.

"Hello, miss." the man said with a heavy southern accent. I suppressed a laugh, thinking about Jake.

"Hi, what can i get for you?"

"Let me get the peanut butter mocha, please. That'll be all." he sighed. I nodded in response. "You got a boyfriend?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. I'm sure he didn't mean it the way it sounded. I immediately thought about johnnie. "No, sir."

"Well, don't worry. once you find someone, you'll know." he had a crooked tooth grin.

"Oh, thank you." I smiled. it confused me where this came from. "Why do you say?"

"You learn to read how people feel when you have a bipolar wife." he snorted.

"Well, you were spot on."

a woman walked in behind him on her phone. she looked up and smiled at me. she was beautiful, even if she had a messy bun and no makeup. she seemed sweet.

"Listen, you seem like a nice girl. you've got looks on your side, too. I say go for it. I know I don't know your situation, but when you look back, you'll regret it."

I was getting a little more concerned each second. this was almost creepy. how could he be so right? I passed his coffee over the counter. "Thank you." I said genuinely.

he nodded, not saying a word as he walked out of the cafe.

"What was that about?" the girl asked, walking up to the counter.

"Apparently, he could sense how I was feeling. I've been overthinking about this guy I met, and he was spot on." I shrugged.

"so, when's he going to tell my fortune?" she joked, pulling out her wallet. "tell me about this guy."

"well, I met him a few days ago. I think he's really cute and we've had our... moments, I guess. i think I might be gaslighting myself into thinking I don't like him like that. I've never had a boyfriend, let alone a genuine crush." I rambled. "I genuinely do not know why I'm opening up to strangers."

"I mean, who knows if we'll ever cross paths again."

"still, I feel stupid." I shake my head. "anyway, what can I get for you?"

"can I just get an iced caramel coffee?" she asked with a sweet smile on her face.

I hum, turning around to make it. What a weird night, I'll probably end up rephrasing to tell johnnie later. we talked little after she asked.

"I hope you have a good night." I smiled softly as I handed her coffee over the counter.

"you too." she smiled back before walking out.

I sat back down and continued to try and write, but my mind frequently wandered back to johnnie. was he even coming tonight?

about an hour and a half later, the door bell rang. "Hey, y/n." Johnnie's tired voice called. I looked up, he carried his computer under one arm.

"johnnie, how bad is your sleep schedule?" I teased, "this is the 3rd night in a row you've come to see me. you must love my face to come here at like 2 am every night."

"what can I say? I get really bad nightmares and your face does in fact make me feel better."

my gaze softened as I smiled.

"do you mind if I hang out in here and edit a video?"

"I'd love that." my heart fluttered at Johnnie's presence.

I turned around to clean the counters as he chose the table closest to where I was. he lazily opened his computer and pulled up the needed footage.

I hummed quietly to what was playing in my headphone as I finished wiping everything down. I fixed myself a coffee and went to sit across from him.

"I had the weirdest fucking encounter today." I mentioned.

he looked up. "what happened?"

"This guy came in and told me that I seemed stressed over a guy and that I'll know if he's the right person and I shouldn't fight my feelings off." I blurted, not bothering to rephrase it.

he made eye contact with me again, curiosity glistening in his eyes. "so, like, a connection you can't explain? thats really poetic."

"yeah, it's scary cause he's right." I mumbled.

"well, if you think you've found that person, then go for it. life's too short to not." he looks back down at his laptop.

"what if I'm not sure if he likes me back?"

a twinge of hurt flashed in his eyes. he seemed to be scrounging for ways to respond. "well, what if he's just as unsure as you?" he asked knowingly.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "so should I really think on it?"

"you might be wasting time, but you never know. maybe waiting is a good decision." he avoided eye contact with me.

"are you good?"

"yeah." he trailed off, rubbing his arm.

silence filled the room for a good minute, I zoned out, staring into my coffee once more.

"have you ever felt that way?"

"felt like what?"

"when you like someone but you're terrified it'll ruin something good?" I pondered.

he looked up, his gaze softening. "yeah, the fear of losing someone so special even though nothing has happened yet?"

"yeah, exactly."

"well, I guess we have to take risks. step out of our comfort zone, you know?" he paused. "at least we could say we tried, right?"

"right." I whispered, awkward tension filled the room.

he cleared his throat. "when you know, you know."

[lewkwoodnco]

Ok would you consider writing more for George?? (shamelessly on an Ali kick atm if you couldn’t tell, this is @bobbys-not-that-small). If I was in the LnCo universe I think I’d be a librarian with little or no talent because I’m too jumpy and scared to be an agent. I’d wanna be a librarian who sometimes bends the rules for the agents who stay really late researching by bringing them a cup of tea or a snack 😊

After Hours - George Karim x Reader

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

a/n: asjfhfjlfh thank youuu to @bobbys-not-that-small for helping me get out of my writing slump!! this palate cleanser was exactly what I needed <3 decided to try smth new with the presentation of my fics wooooo but am having issues with the keep reading divider so this might be a little inconvenient to scroll past :( alsoooo may have gotten a little carried away here hehehe woops

warnings/tropes: snippy George (is there rlly any other kind tho) needs his biscuits, mild angst, happy ending, slight enemies to almost-lovers, fluff!

word count: 2.7k

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

Lockwood was standing over the kettle in the kitchen, half-asleep. Lockwood & Co.’s latest case was a bit more complex than they were used to, which meant that George needed a few extra days to properly research it. That meant that his and Lucy’s sleep schedule had started to settle down into one that was more typical - one where Lockwood was struggling to stifle his yawns in the middle of the night.

He hears some sounds coming from the hallway, and registers them half a second later. He picks up the nearest weapon he can find, a whisk, and tries to call out to the intruder, but his throat is so dry it’s more of a wheeze. The kitchen door inches open, and Lockwood poises to attack, before he pauses and squints at the figure in the doorway.

“George?”

George walks in, putting down his bag and jacket on one of the dining table chairs. “Thought you’d be asleep, Locky.”

“What’s this, a midnight stroll?”

“Sure.”

Lockwood blinked at the kitchen clock blearily. “It’s a hour to dawn.” As George shuffles about the kitchen, fixing his own cup of tea, a thought flits through his sleep-addled brain. “Hang on.” He opens his eyes even further, taking in how fully dressed George is, and starts putting two and two together. “Don’t tell me you’ve only just returned from the Archives.”

“Your hand’s in the milk jug. Again.”

Lockwood glances down and swears. George slips out of the kitchen with Lockwood's tea and biscuit, and he's just awake enough to notice.

“Hey, hey, it’s not your turn on the biscuit roster!”

But George was too content to care much about that. He had finally gotten a satisfactory day's worth of research which quelled the buzzing in his brain, if only for a couple of hours. As he settled into bed, his thoughts wandered to the librarian from earlier.

He had been so engrossed in his reading that he didn't notice anyone was standing over him until the sharp tap on his shoulder. When he did look up, he flinched terribly from the shock. In all fairness, she had been extremely apologetic.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I just wanted to let you know that we're closing soon."

George slowly scanned the library, only just realising that the Archives had completely emptied. It was just the two of them and their voices echoing up to the high ceilings of the room. He half-formulated a response for a moment, but then realised this was his ideal situation, and turned back to his book.

There was another insistent tap on his shoulder and he glanced up to see a firmer set to the librarian's features.

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough just now. We're closed."

"Okay," he murmured, still half-absorbed in his book. She sighed exasperatedly.

"Look, Mr. ..." she trailed off, and George stared back at her unhelpfully. She spied his name scrawled at the top of his notes, which he was too slow to shift out of sight. "...Karim."

"You're good at reading upside down."

"Thank you, it's one of my many talents. Unfortunately, I'm afraid I still have to ask you to leave."

"What if I said you were really good at reading upside down?"

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Mr. Karim."

"Please, you don't need to address me by my surname." If the reddening of her face was any indication, he was right in guessing that he hadn't been able to snag his first name from the sheet.

"...I'm good, but not that good. My point, Mr. Karim, is that you have to leave."

He hummed noncommitally. She frowned. “Now you’re just being mean.”

George fought the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes.

“What can I say? You make it so easy.”

"I'll let you borrow an extra book."

"Hmm."

"Two extra books."

After that, they went around in circles for a while, before she stormed of. As the sun continued to set, she started switching off the lights. Even in the dark, he could feel her eyes burning into the back of his skull. He pulled out a few candles and lit them, just in time to illuminate her scowl as she irritatedly walked past him. She returned from her desk a moment later, her face stony.

"I'll ban you from the library if you don't leave right now."

"By all means." Her mouth shrivelled like she had just tasted something bitter, and he knew he had called her on her bluff.

"I'll revoke your borrowing privileges."

"Yes, because not letting me take books home is exactly how you'd get me to leave the library."

"I'll...I'll set the fantasy section visitor on you."

He didn't even look up from his book. "Give him my regards."

He paid dearly for his tongue-in-cheek a few minutes later, when he was smacked by a puff of icy mist, sudden enough to make him splutter with shock.

"Did-did you just...spritz me? Like a cat?"

"Yes. Now shoo."

He stared at the colourful mosaic of water droplets coating his lenses stubbornly. She wasn't about to get rid of him that easily.

"Actually, I quite liked that."

"You...liked that." She echoed him tonelessly.

He tried to muster up as much dignity as he could while feeling like his face was about to freeze off. "Mhm. Refreshing. Might go as far as to invite you to do it again."

She scoffed, slamming the spray bottle down in surrender.

"Fine. You win. But if you set anything on fire, so help me I will- hang on, I've got a lantern in here somewhere." With that, George watched her drift away distractedly, still mildly damp. He wondered how long he had to wait before asking for something to dry his glasses with.

For the next week, the librarian tolerated his odd hours, and George liked to think that she was coming around. She found out his first name from his library pass the next day, he found out how far he could push it with the late hours. Really, they were almost friends. He liked to think that especially after the night where he got hit in the face by something in a brown paper bag.

"Accidental pastry delivery," the librarian was saying, over the crinkle of the paper bag. "They wouldn't take it back and I've already stuffed myself the best I could."

George peered into the bag to see a deliciously flaky tart and a soft, powdered doughnut. He looked up to see her walking away, and was momentarily distracted by her odd shuffle. It took him a moment to realise she had a slight limp, as if she was carrying some dead weight. But when she returned, holding a tea tray and a viciously folded notebook, all thoughts about her limp flew out of his head. He wouldn't have thought to find such charmingly delicate fine china in a library, of all places.

"How much sugar do you take in your tea?" George blinked, still processing the pastries. She set a cup of tea in front of him, and he decided that it had just the right amount of sugar. She sat down opposite him and poured her own cup of tea, before scratching away at what he could now see was a crossword puzzle.

"Crosswords?"

She arched an eyebrow. "There's only so many books you can read in a day."

"Yes, but...crosswords?"

"You wouldn't believe how fun they are. For instance, right now I'm looking at a six-lettered word for 'nuisance.'"

That shut him up rather quickly. But over the next couple of nights, accident or otherwise, she always joined him for a cup of tea and a little treat once everyone else had cleared out.

And so a rhythm was established. On most nights, their limited conversation rarely strayed away from the tired topics that were which pastry he wanted, how late it was getting, and if he knew a five-letter word of only consonants for 'the immature form of an insect.' But he always wondered about her on the walk home, though he could never quite figure out how to ask. It was on a particularly uninteresting night that he got the answers to these half-formed questions.

He was doing his research, as usual, and she was sitting opposite him, pouring over a crossword puzzle, as usual, when he realised he needed a different volume. She barely stirred as he left the table, silently scratching away at the rough paper. Her stock still image lingered in his mind’s eye. There was something off about her today. She was a little more distracted than normal, and the abnormality unpleasantly reminded George of how little he knew about her. She was always just...there, hovering about, no matter how late it was. Didn't she have a family waiting up for her?

He returned to find her eyes fixed on his scribbled half-thoughts, as if intently deciphering his upside-down scrawls. She jerked back as he set the book down, eyes flitting nervously, almost guiltily.

"You took your time. Thought you got lost back there."

He opened his book with a deliberate slowness, as she fiddled with her pen. When he didn't respond, the forced cheeriness in her voice faded, as her eyes drifted back to his papers.

"Terribly exciting, isn't it? Being an agent."

"S'pose."

"I wanted to be one, when I was younger. Much younger."

The edge to her voice was subtle but unmistakable. He didn't like the way it grated unpleasantly against his ears.

"So how'd you end up here?"

"My talent never really blossomed. Good thing, too; I'd be all thumbs with a rapier anyway."

He frowned. "Hang on. How much can you see, exactly?"

"It's like...like a mist? Sometimes I miss them entirely."

"But you stay out so late past curfew."

"I know. I just try to walk home quickly enough. It's worked out so far."

George glanced at the flaky tart and the repulsively sugary, deep red jam glistening up at him, almost quivering in the flickering candlelight. His appetite was suddenly feeling a little funny.

"Nymph."

"Hm?"

"Five letters, no vowels. Nymph."

She glanced at her crossword, giving a small hum of approval. "So it is."

"But you already knew that."

"Did I?"

Her voice took on a mildly dispirited tone, but it was enough to signal her fading interest in the conversation. His prodding felt frustratingly futile - even now, there was so much of her shrouded in the shadows, shrouded in mystery. He didn't know what to do, or what to say, and he didn't like it. Suddenly, he wasn't sure how much he believed her, something she seemed to pick up on.

"Look, I'm too much of a live wire to be an agent. Can't we just leave it at that?"

"It’s getting late,” he said softly, and the words felt foreign on his tongue, for someone who never cared about the time. His voice sounded distant even to his own ears. But she had already returned to her crossword.

Days passed, and the awkward night was forgotten. They continued growing closer and getting more familiar with each other, if at a snail's pace. One night, she had used up the last teabag for George's tea and waved off his insisting that she have the tea, instead opting for a drink that looked suspiciously alcoholic.

As George expected, she was a little past tipsy by the time they were done, and he lingered behind worriedly as she fumbled to lock up. He walked with her a little further than he normally did, occasionally tipping her upright when she got too giggly.

"Where did you say you lived, again?" George tried to keep his tone nonchalant, hoping she wouldn't realise she never said it a first time. She vaguely pointed ahead, speaking thickly, but he couldn't quite decipher her slurred words. Rolling her eyes exasperatedly, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pressed her face flush against his as she repeated herself, gesturing wildly with her other arm.

"Two blocks down, then a left, walk another block, then a right, and it's the third door on your right. 51 South Street. There's honeysuckle all over the door, you can't miss it."

She tilted her head sideways, lips brushing his cheekbone. He didn't dare to breathe.

"I can take it from here. Don't think I'll be forgetting this in the morning."

She let go of him as smoothly as she hap clasped herself to him, walking ahead briskly with only minimal stumbling.

"Night, Georgie!" Yes, she must be quite well past tipsy. He watched her till she turned the corner, and almost reluctantly turned to walk home himself.

"Where's Y/N?"

George didn't mean to be impolite, but when there was a different librarian handing him his day pass the following week, he didn’t know how else to respond.

“Miss L/N’s called in sick this morning. But I’d be happy to help you with any of your Archives needs.”

The Archives felt frustratingly foreign that day. He hadn’t realised how comforting her lingering had been, to feel rather than see her wandering through the aisles just feet from him. The Archives’ closing was enough to chase him out a few hours later.

He started on the beaten path back to 35 Portland Row, before pausing. He turned, looking at the roads behind him, softly lit up by the fading rays of the setting sun. She couldn’t live that far. Just a block, or maybe two, then…was it a right?

Haltingly, he walked forward, looking this way and that amongst the tall houses which were all beginning to look worryingly identical. But she was right. 51 South Street did stick out with the heavily perfumed buttercup-yellow honeysuckle framing the door. That, and the girl smoking on the front steps of the house.

She glanced up from the gravel she was staring at as he drew closer, staring at him with cloudy eyes until she finally seemed to register him.

“…George! You’re - what? Did something happen?”

“You tell me.”

She fiddled with the ends of her hair with her free hand distractedly. “Oh. I’m alright. My leg was feeling a little bad in the morning, so I called in sick.”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

“I’m not. It just helps with the pain.”

“For now. For an hour. You know it’s only making it worse in the long run.”

She either coughed or laughed, he couldn’t tell. He watched her breath smoke like sighs, in silence.

"I used to be an agent. And I wasn’t half bad at it, either. But I tripped up, once…lost half the nerves in my left leg. After the ghost touch, my Sight-” she pressed a hand to her eyelids, trembling for something grieved. “My Sight…it was never the same again. I tried to stay on for a while, but it was so difficult, and so painful for everyone…so I left. I couldn’t do anything with my hip connected to this…dead weight.” She tapped her cigarette experimentally, ash snowing over her shoe. “I’m dead weight, Karim.”

He wanted to comfort her, but he was never the comforting type.

“You miss it.”

“I do. I love the Archives, but…I feel like I’m part of everyone’s life, except for my own. I don’t feel like my own person. I felt so…alive as an agent. Like I’d burst into flames at any minute, as if I had that much more life which the visitors didn’t have.”

George knew the type. He lived with the type.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m glad you didn’t. Burst into flames, I mean.”

She half smiled into the palm she was resting her chin on. “Aww, Georgie.”

George coughed awkwardly, starting to drift away now that she was clearly feeling better. He recognised that teasing look on her face a little too well. “Okay, you’re alright now.”

“Did you oh so miss me today?”

“That’s enough out of you.”

“Not getting fond of me, are you Georgie?”

The back of his neck flamed red. She was definitely alright now.

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

[greg-montgomery]

Ivy - Part 11

gif by: @hotch-girl <3

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader (Sean Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

Series summary: Your relationship with your boyfriend, Sean, is going great. Well, that is until you meet his older brother, Aaron.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

i am back!!!! <3333 we're getting close to the end my besties <3 if you missed the previous chapter, i'm sorry i didn't tag anyone! but now my blog is fixed and everything is back to normal!!

i think i’ll only write one or two more chapters on this story and we’re done 🫶🏻

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“She’s gonna be alright.” Those were the words Aaron had said to him after getting you back. Sean was holding onto those words like his life depended on it.

“Thank you for reaching out to me for help, even after everything we’ve done to you,” his brother had said. “It means more to me than you know.”

“I would never put my pride above her safety.”

“I’m really proud of you for that.” That statement should have not made his chest swell the way it had. Seeking validation from his older brother seemed like a trap he still fell into; even after being betrayed by his own blood.

“I don’t know if you’ll ever find it in you to forgive me, but I don’t want to lose you.” Sean remembered the way Aaron’s voice had broken after saying those words. “Just know that you’ll always be my family and I’ll always be by your side if you need anything. You can still hate me, I don’t mind, as long as you know I’m always here if you need help.”

“I know.”

“Hot chocolate is ready!” A bubbly voice snapped him out of the memory of that phone call.

“How can you be this energetic at 4 in the morning?” he groaned, taking the cup of hot chocolate from Penelope’s hands.

“Well, my job doesn’t really have a schedule. So I’ve been trained to be alert at any time of the day. Or night.” She smirked.

Penelope had insisted on staying with him after hearing the news that you were safe. Sean couldn’t even imagine how awful he must have looked for a stranger to make an offer like this. But he was glad she did. That woman was full of warmness and light; things that had been missing from his life.

He had only managed to bring the mug on his lips, when he heard his phone ring. It was you.

“Hey,” he said, breathless.

“Hi, Sean.” Your voice was weak, tired; he could tell. But you were alive and that was all that mattered.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better. I slept, I showered, and now I’m having something to eat.”

It stung that it was Aaron who had probably cooked for you; that it was Aaron’s embrace you had found comfort in that night. It was all clear to him now. Sean was the reason you had been kidnapped. Aaron was your knight in shining armor who had come to your rescue.

It would never be Sean again for you. It would always be Aaron.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he cried. “I don’t know what to say. I feel like the bigg-”

“Don’t you dare apologize for this,” you interrupted him. “How could you have known?”

Sean wasn’t able to reply, his sobs choking him, preventing his voice from coming out.

Penelope was quick to sit next to him and take his hand in hers. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“Sean, do you think we could meet at some point? And just talk? I think we both need it.”

You were right. “Yes, we do. I’ll text you when I can.”

“Thank you,” you said.

There was an awkward pause. The times you were giggling on the phone asking him to hang up first were long gone.

“Um…try to get some sleep, please,” you spoke again. “I’ll be doing the same.”

“Okay, Y/N. Good night.”

“Good night.”

--

A kiss on the forehead by Aaron calmed your beating heart down. “I’m proud of you.”

“I can’t tell whether he hates me or not,” you admitted, letting your phone drop on the couch next to you. “Last time we talked it felt like he didn’t wanna see me again. And now it’s…”

“It’s all very complicated,” he said, leaving another kiss on the side of your head. “He’s hurt, but he still loves you. And now he feels guilty on top of everything.”

“I don’t want him to forgive me because he feels guilty.”

“We need to give him time, my love. Let him reach out to you when he’s ready. He needs to process his emotions first,” Aaron said. “We all do.”

“Thanks for the input, Oprah.”

“Ah…” he said, throwing his head back. “I missed that nickname.”

You laughed and kissed his cheek with all the love in the world.

Brining your attention back to the soup you had left, you brought up a little detail from the phone call you just had.

“As I was talking with Sean…” you started, “I swear I heard Penelope’s voice at some point.”

“Penelope as in…”

“As in Penelope Garcia.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I guess she stayed there for moral support?”

“Can she even do that?” you wondered.

“Well, your case wasn’t official so I guess she can,” he argued.

“Hmm…interesting.”

At least you were gonna sleep easier now, knowing that Sean wasn’t all by himself.

--

“Shh…Try not to wake her, okay buddy?”

“Okay.”

After a sleep full of nightmares that you were back in that basement, being woken up by the whispers of your favorite people was a blessing; even if they managed to do the exact opposite of what they had just said.

You opened your eyes slightly, being met with a little Jack climbing up the bed.

“Daddy, I woke her up,” he said, turning to face his dad with a guilty face.

“It’s okay, my angel. Come here,” you said, softly, opening your embrace for him.

Jack was soon in your arms, and to the sight of Aaron smiling at the two of you, you fell back asleep.

This time, without bad dreams.

--

My family: those two words were on your mind the entire day you spent with them.

Normally, you would be irritated if the people around you acted as if you were going to break at any point, but how could you be mad when those people were Aaron and his son?

Aaron told Jack you were a little sick and that was all it took for him to act as overprotective of you as his dad did. They didn’t let you lift a finger, and somehow, this treatment felt comforting. You felt loved and cared for. You were important to them.

“Need some tea, maybe?” Aaron asked, as you rested your head on his shoulder. Jack was playing in his room, finally giving you some time alone.

“All I need right now is my man to hold me.”

“Okay. I’m sorry if I’m being too much.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you said, placing your palm on his chest. “Thank you for taking care of me.

“I would lose my mind if something happened to you,” he admitted. “I don’t even wanna think about it.”

“Then don’t,” you replied, kissing his jaw. “It’s over now.”

“It is,” he said softly, his nose brushing against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

You cupped his cheek and brought his face close to you, giving him a deep kiss. “My love…”

“Y/N, look what I made!” Jack’s excited voice made you break your kiss abruptly, but not fast enough for him not to see what was happening. To Jack, you were still his aunt – not his dad’s girlfriend.

Embarrassment and surprise were written all over his face as he stared at you, before running back to his room.

“I’ll talk to him,” you told Aaron before he even had the chance to speak.

--

You knocked on Jack’s door and entered his room after hearing his soft, “Come in.”

Jack was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, a superhero figure occupying his hands.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Why were you and daddy kissing?” he asked, staring at the toy on his lap.

“Honey, uncle Sean and I are not together anymore,” you said, taking a seat next to him.

“You don’t love him anymore?”

“I love him, but not the way I love your dad,” you answered honestly. He was a kid, but you weren’t going to hide the truth from him. Children understood everything anyway.

“You love my dad?”

“Very much.”

“And does he love you too?” Jack finally looked at you.

“He does.”

“So now you’re my dad’s girlfriend?” His tone was curious, not judgmental like you feared.

“Yes, my angel,” you said.

“Isn’t uncle Sean mad at you?”

His question hurt, as innocent as it was.

“He is. And we deserve that.”

“I’d be mad too.”

Thanks, Jack, you thought.

“Max is my best friend,” he said after a small pause.

“Okay…” you said, uncertain where he was going with this.

“But after Christmas break, when we went back to school,  he only played with Alex, and not me anymore. And it made me really sad and angry. But then…then…they said they were sorry and we started playing all together. And now we’re all friends.”

You furrowed your brows - trying to ignore your protective instincts that wanted you to fight two children named Max and Alex – and focused on the moral message of his story.

Yes, the three of you would never be best friends. But Sean deserved an apology. The one you hadn’t given him the day you broke up, because you thought it was worthless. An apology wouldn’t fix anything, but Sean deserved to hear it anyway.

Jack interrupted your thoughts by moving closer to you. “I know that uncle Sean is mad, but I’m happy you’ll be here with us a lot. I love you.”

That kid had the ability to melt your heart like butter. “I love you too, buddy.” You leaned in to give him a hug.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered against your shoulder.

“Of course.”

“I kept wishing you were my mom and not my aunt. And I think that my wish came true and that’s why daddy fell in love with you.”

You squeezed him even tighter.

Part 12

ivy tag list: @preciousbabypeter @buckysmainhxe @galaxyofmyown @ssamorganhotchner @romanogersendgame @elhotchner @louderfortheback @northschild @iammirrorball @rousethemouse @kishie8 @save-the-sky @ssacharcoalgrey @realdirectionx @itsmytimetoodream @art-and-thoughts @red-red-rogue @dellalyra @feetgypsy @stella95827 @katieslotherford @jazzymariexoxoc @quietlyignoringyou @justarandommom @sebastiansstanswhore @lelifesaver @aaron-hotchners-girlfriend @whyamihere96 @sylvieofasgard @redbleedingrose @222brooke @xoprincessmel @girlintheredscarf @radical-gecko @yeehawbitchs @jazzerbelle14 @jayxox @adrienette715 @fudosl @sardonic-courtney @emlynblack @kizzywh @formulapierre @crocodilefeet2707 @mojo366 @spicysimpura @twelfthnightorwhatyouwill1998 @mrs-ssa-hotch @clairedragonessbaker @n0t-yours-you-w1sh @tipsyteenstoday @potatoesonacouch @the-fantasy-loving-angel @my-beel @lex13cm @chibsytelford @crimsonincursive

[kakushino]

Take a picture

(???)! Rengoku Kyojuro x GN! Reader

He's just too perfect.

Tags: suggestive, modern AU, reader is photographer, otherworldy vibes, not much plot to speak of uwu Word count: 1,5k

Masterlist

AN: Written as a gift from cupid to the lovely lovebird @nymphoheretic - I hope it sets your cheeks ablaze if nothing else~ (forgive me for posting it an hour earlier than 6pm your time but I am lazy to change date on scheduling, as it would be 1am 15th for me)

It was an honor to work with a man as esteemed as Rengoku Kyojuro. Even if the gig paid less than it should - it was for a charity - you were excited, so much so that you could not sleep half the night from the giddy feeling welling up in your belly.

Rengoku Kyojuro, a model and a fire dancer in one, a reputably kind person with a good word and encouragement honeying his lips anytime he spoke with his fans. Gods, you hoped you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of him.

As you had woken up early, before your alarm even, you went to make sure everything was prepared at the studio you were to do the photoshoot in. It was by no means a large one, but you would make do. You had to.

“Hello!”

The exuberant voice startled you out of your thoughts. He was here. 

You turned to him and greeted him shyly, introducing yourself and extending your hand to shake with his.

Instead of the usual greeting, he bent down slightly to kiss your knuckles, keeping eye contact - his irises, as vibrant and fiery as a flame, drawing you in, making you forget all the words you planned to say when you met at last…

You blinked, and the spell was gone.

“It’s nice to meet you in person, Rengoku-san.” You swallowed dryly, trying to fix your composure. 

The man tilted his head curiously, a wide smile blooming on his handsome face, a light seemingly radiating from him like a rare scorching summer day in autumn months. “The pleasure is all mine, my dear! You look stunning on this fine day!” 

What a strange thing to say- Nevertheless the compliment made you smile shyly. “I- thank you… Would you like something to drink? Tea or coffee? Or- uuh, anything else?” A waft of his cologne reached your nose and you suddenly felt thirsty for- not what you were offering to him, but an other something - what it was, you had no clue.

“A glass of water would do me fine, my dear. Thank you!”

You quickly stumbled back, realizing he still had your hand in his from greeting each other - his thumb had been caressing the back of your hand the entire time. Odd, how you haven’t noticed… Rengoku let go without a fuss, the same wide smile still adorning his face. 

Fetching that glass of water for him - and you, gods, you were suddenly so parched - allowed you a moment to breathe free of his presence. 

What was that?!

Gods, you could hardly remember what just transpired between the two of you from the moment your eyes met his…

You came back with two glasses to see Rengoku already seated at the sofa in front of the camera, scrolling through his phone, the wide smile still stuck on his face. So strange…

You placed your glass off to the side by your camera and walked closer to offer him his. Only, the second your shoe met the space illuminated by the studio lighting, his bright eyes turned to you. You nearly, nearly, stumbled over your own two feet. 

“Ah, you have returned, my dear!” He quickly stood up and closed the distance between the two of you, his hand already reaching for the glass, yet he was suddenly too close and he was looming over you, his face as if shadowed, his eyes aglow as they focused on you. Your hands touched on the glass.

The look he gave you ignited something in your belly, the heat blooming on your cheeks, and goosebumps spread across your skin. You hoped he didn’t notice.

The moment passed. 

You blinked rapidly, trying to get your bearings again. Rengoku’s scent filled your senses even as he walked behind you to place his glass beside yours - or so you figured, for when you turned, they stood next to each other and the man himself was in front of you again. 

How is he so fast?

“Shall we start then?” he prompted gently, licking his lips. The action had to be unconscious - had to be - it couldn’t be deliberate… The double meaning of his question made your heart pound and heat pool in your stomach.

“Y-yes!”

You quickly passed by him, attempting to breathe normally - through your mouth, his cologne too intoxicating to ignore, so you eliminated the source of influence - and fiddling with your camera settings. You re-checked everything, even though you knew it was set to your usual to start with, and glanced up at him. 

Rengoku assumed an effortlessly sexy position, manspreading on the comfortable couch in his suit. Your mouth went dry. Dear gods, however would you survive today?

Pose after pose after pose, different settings, different lighting, and slowly undressing. The topic for the photoshoot was ‘Tease’ and Kyojuro - he had told you to call him that after you addressed him Rengoku-san one too many times (“Rengoku-san is my father!” he laughed heartily, loudly.) - Kyojuro? He was perfect at strip-teasing.

His figure was a sculpture - too flawless, nearly eldritch in its magnificence - giving off the feeling of being slightly… off. It was strange, an untrained eye wouldn’t notice, but you did. Your eyes took him in, each dip and hair and freckle perfectly symmetrical and neat. Unnatural.

Yet alluring all the same.

You had never in your life seen a body that called to you as much as his. Saliva pooled in your mouth, to your shame, and you used the excuse of playing with the focus on your camera to oogle him.

Stop it! Work now, admire later!

“Like something you see?” A foxy grin spread across his handsome face, too many teeth though he appeared perfectly normal. “Take a picture, it will last longer.”

You had to take a sip of your water to hopefully cool down your cheeks. Contrary to your wishes, a molten heat spread in your belly when you looked back at him. 

Kyojuro was a dangerous specimen.

A fog settled over your mind as you both tried to remain professional - at least you did. His heated gaze seemed to be aimed at you, not the camera. He had to be seducing you! Another sip of your water proved unsuccessful in cooling you off again, though you maintained an illusion of nonchalance.

When you had to demonstrate the pose you wanted him to do, you caught a whiff of his natural scent - somehow cloyingly sweet yet musky, so thick it stuck to the roof of your mouth. It should be an unpleasant smell but it was addicting. You discreetly swallowed to get more of him on your tongue as you watched him assume the exact same position you showed him.

Fuck… Any person would be lucky to call Kyojuro theirs, or rather, for Kyojuro to call them his. You felt he was more of the possessive type - especially for a shiny thing such as a lover.

You had to dispel such thought from your mind. Why did you even think of that? The whole situation was so odd, surreal. Your brain filled with ways Kyojuro could claim you on that sofa, ways you could claim him. 

Another alluring grin - for the camera? for you? His teeth were blindingly white - were his canines a little more prominent than normal? His eyes set on you - him with you, him under you, him above you-

No!

A deep breath. 

What was happening to you? 

The hum reverberated from the back of his throat into your spine, even at the distance you two were at. 

Kyojuro was down to his slacks - belt unbuckled, zipper unzipped - his legs thrown over the backseat of the sofa, his body laying on the seats, his head upside down and his hair a waterfall of fire. Even in such a compromising position - with you standing scarcely a few feet away - it was you who was at his mercy.

It was the last shot of that day. Once you got it, you remained where you were, speechless. What could be said? ‘You seduced me, take responsibility’? No. ‘Thank you for your hard work, let’s never see each other again’? No.

You forced yourself to glance at the clock on the wall. It was… already evening? You hadn’t felt even a twinge of hunger in your belly, nor had your model protested at all. Models were usually the whiniest babies on Earth, what-?

You looked back at where Kyojuro should be sitting only to be met with his bare chest.

What?

He leaned in closer, his eyes near glowing, hypnotizing. His otherworldly charm settled over your mind, inducing a haze, as you took in the sweet smell of purely him, your body was pulled closer into his by powers foreign to your senses. He was so…

“Would you be so kind and accompany me to dinner, sweetling?” his voice was barely above whisper, a fact rather than a question. 

You found yourself nodding, swallowing down another mouthful of saliva that gathered from having his undivided attention on you. 

“It’s settled then. We eat and then I feast… on dessert.” 

Kyojuro licked his lips, a bright gleam of too large canines catching your eye.

“I’m sure you will taste exquisite.”

dividers by @hitobaby network: @enchantedforest-network

AN: To be honest, I struggled with myself to post it because I feel like it's not good enough... ANYGAYS - I intended Kyo to be a fae but who knows~ he could be a vampire too~

[allthingsfangirl101]

Different Kind of Passenger–Kurt Kunkle

Wattpad request by PurplryToast

Kurt's POV

I reached forward and fixed the camera. I eagerly drummed my fingers on the steering wheel as I waited for my first victim of the night.

"Are you Kurt?" A woman around my age asked.

"That's me," I said sweetly.

"Great," she sighed as she got in. "Get me the hell out of here."

"Okay," I said slowly.

I cleared my throat before looking over my shoulder at the girl. She was extremely pretty but her eyes were a little red and puffy. Something about the look on her face made me reach over and turn off the camera.

"Everything okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine," she said. I looked in the rearview mirror to see the girl wiping her cheek.

"Are you sure?"

"You don't want to hear this," she sighed.

"I'm an Uber driver," I chuckled. "A vehicular bartender. Try me."

"It turns out," she sighed, "my boyfriend is cheating on me."

Her breath got caught in her throat before she added, "With my best friend."

"That asshole," I scoffed. "Want me to kill him?"

"What?" She asked with a small awkward chuckle.

"I'm kidding," I said quickly.

"Oh," she said, her voice soft. She cleared her throat as she looked out the window. "All he could say was that he was sorry and it was a mistake. How can it be a mistake? They've been sleeping together for a month. It's not a mistake. It's a schedule."

"He's an ass," I grumbled. "And your best friend is no better. You deserve better."

"Thanks, Kurt," she smiled.

The feeling I got when the girl smiled and said my name was the same feeling I got when one of my videos went viral.

"So," she sighed, sounding dreamy. "Tell me about yourself, Kurt. What made you want to be an Uber driver? Are you working your way through school?"

"I am," I instantly lied.

"That's smart," she complimented me. "I'm guessing class during the day and driving people at night?"

"Yep." I looked up at her reflection in the rearview mirror, feeling weird. "What about you? Are you in school?"

"Yeah," she sighed.

"That sounds like an excited sigh," I teased.

"Super excited," she said sarcastically. "I'm in law school right now and it's kicking my ass."

"I bet you'll be a great lawyer," I blurted out.

"Thanks, Kurt."

"And then you can sue that boyfriend of yours," I added making her laugh.

"Ex-boyfriend," she corrected between laughs. "Or maybe I can just have my new boyfriend beat the crap out of him and I can represent him."

"That works too."

Usually by now, I would be taking my passenger the wrong way. For some reason, I continued driving this girl where she wanted. Out of all the people who have gotten into my backseat, what was stopping me from hurting this girl?

"I never know how much you're supposed to talk to your Uber driver," the girl laughed. "Am I talking too much? That was one of my ex's complaints about me."

"Seriously?" I scoffed. "He cheated on you with your best friend because you talk a lot? That's bullshit."

"Actually," she cleared her throat, "I've been working insane hours. Law school constantly keeps me busy and then I work at the school's library until closing. I haven't been around much. And we haven't. . . Well, we haven't. . . you know in a while."

"So?" I couldn't help but scoff. "Doesn't give him an excuse to mess around with your best friend."

"Well, I'm glad not all guys are cheating bastards," she said sweetly.

I felt a little disappointed when I realized we were in front of her destination.

"Here we are," I said, trying to hide my disappointment.

"Thanks, Kurt," she smiled. She was about to get out but stopped.

"And not just for driving me home," she clarified. "Thanks for listening, Kurt. You're a great guy."

I opened my mouth to thank her but she got out of my car. I couldn't help but watch her jog up the steps into her apartment building.

I didn't know who that girl was. What I did know was that I had to see her again.

Part 2

[fluffyhare]

Like Real People Do ♡ (Casper x Avery)

☁️ Summary: Casper moves to a new town. A peaceful morning longboard ride along the boardwalk leads to a chance encounter~! This story is written in first-person (Casper's) perspective.

☁️ Warnings: Light tickling (accidental + clinical setting), mild injury (no blood or gore), death mention (no actual death). Loneliness/insecurity mention.

☁️ Author's Note: This is my first fic (ever, lol, not just with these characters) so I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know if the tags/warnings are wrong and I will fix them. I am so thankful for the support and love I have received for my characters, it means so much to me.♡

This is a series now!

Part 1 *you are here

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

If you just got here and want to know more about my characters, you can read my comic starting right here!

"Alright, go ahead and lie back," the doctor instructed as she pulled the extender out from the examination table. I did so, swinging my legs up and planting my socked feet on the extender. Goosebumps rose on my arms as the cold vinyl was easily felt through my thin t-shirt. My eyes traced the borders of the sterile white ceiling tiles, my lips pursing as I prepared to be examined. "I'm just going to feel your belly, okay?"

“Just,” I thought.

"Okay," I sighed, and then locked my teeth together. Perspiration formed between the vinyl and my clammy palms, and a familiar heat began to creep from my ears across my cheeks. Invisible under my soft layer of pudge, my stomach muscles knitted together. As she leaned over the table, I avoided the doctor's eyes, as if one glance would betray some emotion a little too complex -- a little too personal -- for a routine checkup.

She lifted my shirt to the bottom of my ribcage, prompting a shiver as the cold air rushed over my bare skin. Her icy fingers began to unceremoniously probe my stomach; starting above my bellybutton, she pressed and prodded in a seemingly random pattern. Toes curling, I tried to steel myself, to compose my face in a mask of indifference, even as I felt my blush deepen. My belly trembled as her fingers traveled down each side, then lower, pressing into the spots just inside each of my hip bones. I twitched, my composure faltering. Mercifully, I was able to quash my giggle into a sound more akin to a cough.

“Did that hurt?”

“Ah, no, it's just… sensitive,” I answered, cleaning my throat to lend more credibility to my coughing.

“Okay, good. You can sit up now.”

I sat up – a little too quickly – cursing myself as my head spun.

“Well, you're very healthy. We'll keep an eye on that low BP, just make sure you stay hydrated, exercise, yadda yadda, you know the drill,” she prattled as I prepared to leave, jamming my feet into my shoes without untying them.

I checked out at the front desk and got in my car. Once safely in the driver’s seat, a relieved sigh rolled from my chest. In the privacy of my sun-bleached and beat-to-hell Versa, I could admit, at least, in my mind: while I enjoyed being ticklish, it did make doctor visits a challenge at times.

Back at home, the rest of my Saturday proceeded without incident. My new job offered weekends off, a pleasant change from the unpredictable schedule of my previous position. Since I had just moved to Port Oleander, though, I didn't have anyone to spend them with. Most of the time, that was okay; I was pretty introverted, but I did get lonely sometimes. Well… more often than I liked to admit.

Standing over the sink, I ate dinner – leftover chicken with rice and green beans – while watching YouTube on my phone. I took a shower and brushed my teeth. In bed I watched the ceiling fan spin in the dark, trying to follow the tips of each blade with my eyes, until it gently hypnotized me to sleep.

+++

When I awoke, the room was dark and still. Rolling over, I grabbed my phone and checked the time, blinding myself with the backlight I had forgotten to turn down. Four a.m.

I mopped a sweaty hand over my face. For no reason I could discern, I had been waking up three hours before my alarm every day for the past month. With no hope of going back to sleep, I would scroll on my phone, waiting until it was time to get out of bed. Today felt different, though. While I would generally awaken groggy and irritable, today, I was restless and alert.

Summer was hot and humid in my new city, so I pulled on a pair of cargo shorts, my most breathable binder, and a loose t-shirt. “It’s supposed to be nice today. Maybe if I ride my longboard, I'll run into some other skaters and make a friend or something,” I thought, then blushed in spite of myself. Not very many people skated anymore, especially not in my age group, and even if I did run into someone… would they want to befriend a visibly queer person like me? Would I even be safe? Oleander seemed generally more open-minded than my hometown, but since moving there, I had already been the recipient of enough sour looks to make me gun-shy.

I shook my head to stop the spiral.

“All I can do is try.”

+++

Yellow streetlight bathed the boardwalk pavement as I made lazy, wide carves down the vacant street. Aromas of coffee, food and ocean spray enveloped me as businesses began to open. The smooth pavement was a refreshing change from the rough sidewalks where I had grown up, and with my wheels gliding like marbles on glass, I barely needed to push. Clean, cool air filled my lungs and whistled through my short hair, pulling negative thoughts from my mind. It was more than a plank of wood with some metal and wheels attached; it was a magic carpet, and I lived to fly.

I thought it was a glass bottle catching the light as it bobbed in the surf, but as I looked closer, I became more convinced that it was not a single object; it didn’t just shine, it glittered, as if someone had spilled a container of sequins in the water. Unlike debris, though, the sparkly mass did not follow the swell of the waves. Seeming to act of its own accord, it moved toward the coast and then back, vertically upward and then down, hovering just above the water. Squinting in the pre-dawn light, I could have sworn it had a smokey, blurry haze around it, too. There was something distinctly alive about its movements. Transfixed, I watched it move almost playfully as it bobbed and weaved along the coast.

I surfed along the boardwalk, watching the sky lighten in shades of red and orange as it prepared to welcome the sun. It was my first time visiting the boardwalk since moving to Oleander, and as I coasted, I came to a pier that stretched way out into the water.

“That might be a cool place to watch the sunrise,” I mused. Angling my feet into a turn, I felt my wheels roll over the wood slats, gently vibrating my feet up to my hips. I was surprised at how soft the wood felt; it rattled a bit, but it wasn’t unpleasant. The pier was dotted with awnings and folded-up stands, but no vendors had opened yet, and I was glad for the lack of pedestrians to avoid. I pushed hard as I cruised down the pier, feeling the cool salt spray on my bare arms and face. As I looked out across the water, something caught my eye.

By the time I looked up, it was too late. I slammed my foot down to brake, but the slick wood did nothing to stop my forward momentum. My arms pinwheeled as my stomach connected with the guardrail at 10mph. It was only then that I realized just how high the end of the pier was. Shock and vertigo seized my body as I flipped over the rail, hands grasping uselessly at empty air. The next few moments of my experience proceeded as a flashback.

I was nine years old, crying on a beach chair at the public pool. I had jumped off the high-dive for the first time, my skin stinging and red as my dad wrapped me in a towel and sat beside me. He rubbed my back. “You were brave for jumping, angel, but you gotta be careful how you hit the water next time, okay? Water is just like concrete if you’re too high.”

“I wonder if I’ll see him again,” was my last thought as I plummeted into unconsciousness.

+++

The first thing I became aware of was a high-pitched whistle, followed by a musty scent, like wet stone and paper. I opened my eyes to a small, circular room.

Across from me, just beyond the foot of the bed I was lying in, was a red door. The walls were white-painted brick and featured bookshelves that practically exploded with books. “This isn't a bedroom with some books,” I thought, dazed, “it’s a library with a bed in it.” From every available wall space hung scientific illustrations of all kinds. Above my head, a tall window flooded the room with sunlight.

I tried to sit up, causing pain to radiate from my stomach. I was hurt, and this wasn't a hospital, meaning I was in someone else's home… in someone else's bed.

My mind scrambled to fill in the blanks. I woke up too early, again. I was skateboarding. I could smell pancakes and coffee. I wanted to watch the sunrise from the end of the pier. My feet tingled as I recalled my wheels rolling over the wooden slats; it seemed to go on forever. Did I make it to the end? Wait… what was that in the water?

Whatever happened next must have led to my injury. Did someone attack me? I couldn't remember seeing anyone on the pier, but maybe I was wrong. Did I fall?

Immediately, I checked my clothes. They weren't wet, which meant I didn't hit the water, but my back felt a bit damp… perhaps from sweat. How long was I unconscious? Frantically, I jammed my hands in my pockets, looking for my phone. Not only was it gone, so were my wallet and keys. Fuck!

With some difficulty, I kicked my feet out from under the heavy quilt and tried to stand. For the first time, I noticed that the bed had a small table beside it. All my effects were there, along with a glass of water and some over-the-counter painkillers. I urgently checked my phone.

“Six P.M.?!”

I had been sleeping in a stranger's bed for at least eight hours. No, probably even longer. I thrust everything into my pockets and made for the door, feeling a flash of fear that it might be locked. Mercifully, it wasn't.

The door opened with a creak that was loud, but did not travel as the hallway was incredibly small. Stairs led both to and from the tiny landing, going so far in each direction, I could not see where they terminated. Whipping my head around, I looked out the window. I could see nothing but sky. Was I in a tower?

I heard movement from above me. Whoever it was that brought me here was coming back. I started to descend the stairs, as quickly as my aching stomach would allow.

“Wait, stop, please!” A man's voice called down the spiral corridor.

I didn't stop, though. Racing down the steps, I practically tripped over my own feet as I scrambled to escape. Maybe he didn't kidnap me – he did leave all of my belongings, after all – but I wasn't sticking around to find out. My heart thundered in my chest as sweat broke out all over my body. The stairs seemed to go on forever, and I could hear the stranger behind me the whole time I ran, begging me to stop.

“Please, you'll hurt yourself! Please stop!”

When I finally reached the bottom, I threw open the heavy door and gasped as I was met with a cold spray of seawater in my face. Far in the distance, across miles of ocean, I could see the coast. Desperately looking from side to side, I saw that the tower was surrounded completely by water. There was no escape.

“Please… don't go any further. There's no way off this island. Please, I don't want you to get hurt.”

A hand on my shoulder made me jump. As I spun to face the stranger, all the blood drained from my face.

I was stricken by how tall he was, dwarfing me by at least a foot. His skin – if you could call it skin – had the appearance of thick white smoke trapped in a bottle, seeming to billow and roll beneath the surface. Most strange of all was his head. I could see the faintest outline of a human-shaped face, but it expanded outward from the sides and top, forming rolling peaks like a cloud. In the center were two large eyes, the irises and lashes of which were both stark white. Despite the creature’s fantastical appearance, he wore a simple blue button-down shirt and slacks.

Suddenly, I felt sure that I had died on that pier. Perhaps I fell. Perhaps I was still falling even now, synapses grasping at straws, presenting a frenzied hallucination before death. I could feel my grip on consciousness slipping, like flat shoes sliding on ice.

“Please don't hurt me,” I whimpered, fighting the pressure behind my ears and eyes.

“My dear, you being harmed is exactly what I am trying to prevent.”

“What are you? Am I dead?”

“I'll explain everything, okay? Please come back inside,” he pleaded, offering me his hand. My strength was fading fast. Deciding that the risk of trusting this stranger was preferable to collapsing in his doorway, I took it.

+++

Like the bedroom I had awoken in, the lighthouse kitchen was filled with sunlight as I sat at the table. Riding above the ever-present scents of sea, stone, and paper, the dining room air was thick with bergamot and lavender.

“I know it's summer, but I drink hot tea year-round. Would you like some?” he asked.

I suddenly became aware of just how thirsty I was, having been unconscious for so long, followed immediately by a frantic jog down the longest staircase of my life.

“Please,” I croaked.

I watched the back of the cloud-man’s head as he prepared the tea, my brain immediately connecting the loud whistle I had awoken to with his old-fashioned kettle.

He took a seat across from me, porcelain clattering softly as he placed the teacup and saucer in front of me. I sipped, relieved at the familiar and comforting flavor of earl grey.

“Listen… I'm… very sorry. It's really my fault you ended up here… that you got hurt.”

I looked up from my tea, brow furrowed. His eyes were pained as he stared at the vinyl kitchen floor.

“I was collecting sea glass and I lost track of time. When it's dark, humans can't really see me, so I usually do it at night,” he glanced up at me, the faintest hint of blue tinting under his eyes, “when I saw you watching me, I was just going to disappear into the water… but then I saw you hit the end of the pier. You hit it so hard. I got to you before you fell into the water, but you were already unconscious. I didn't know what to do... so I brought you here, to my lighthouse.”

His face was a mask of apprehension and regret. I had no memory of hitting the guardrail, but it did explain the bruise across my stomach.

He continued, “I’m not a medical doctor, but I've read many of your medical textbooks. I… examined you, while you were unconscious, to make sure you weren't seriously injured. Professionally, of course!” The blue tint under his eyes deepened and spread a bit as he stole another glance at me. Was he blushing?

I offered a humorless laugh. “Well, I'm glad you didn't take me to the hospital, my insurance doesn't cover that, and god knows I can't afford it. I've fallen off my skateboard before, it's no biggie. I'm sore, but I don't think it's, like, serious,” I supplied casually, trying to comfort him.

He perked up, just a little.

“I'm really very sorry, and I'm sorry if I scared you, too. I know that seeing me must have been quite a shock. I've read many of your books, and watched you on TV and on the computer, but I've never met a human before.”

Reality began to settle on me. I still wasn't totally convinced that I wasn't flailing in midair, moments from death and hallucinating vividly, but if this was real… then this was the coolest shit that had ever happened to me.

“Even – and perhaps, especially – if am about to die, what's the harm in playing along?” I thought.

“What… are you?” I asked.

He brightened a bit more, even managing a shy smile now.

“I believe in your language, the closest word to describe me would be ‘elemental.’ I learned that from one of your Dungeons and Dragons books. And, I do actually have a name,” he gained a bit of confidence here, giving a little hand flourish, followed by a bow, “Doctor Avery Nimbus, at your service.”

I giggled, and as I did, Avery’s face lit up; his grin was so big, it curved his eyes into half-moons. For a moment, I could swear the room was brighter, and a warmth spread through my chest.

He proceeded, “And you are…?”

“Well, my name is Casper. I'm just your regular ol, garden-variety human.”

“Casper, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said, extending a hand across the table. I clasped it gently, his large hand almost completely enveloping mine. His skin had an interesting texture, too; it was cold and soft, much softer than human skin, and I could feel the swirling tempest beneath it, like storm winds against a window pane. He held my hand for just a tick longer than I expected. By the time I looked up, he was already looking away.

“Ah… it's starting to get dark, now. I should take you home,” he said softly.

I frowned. I had so many more questions. A pit grew in my stomach as I thought of returning to the mundanity of my life after this experience, but I couldn't just drop everything, could I…? Besides, I was afraid of overstaying my welcome. I had been sleeping in his bed for hours.

“How do I even get home? You said there's no way off this island, and I didn't see a boat out there…”

Avery beamed again. This time, there was a sly twinkle in his pale eyes.

“Allow me to show you.”

+++

I gasped as Avery hoisted me into his arms, easily carrying me princesses-style despite my extra pounds. The night wrapped around us like a star-studded cloak, Avery's body nearly invisible in the darkness. He stood on the rocky edge of the tiny island, the crashing waves spraying us with salty mist.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Oh, god… as I'll ever be,” I whined, my hand clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Then here we go~!”

With that, Avery leapt upward with incredible force, propelling us into the night sky. My stomach dropped as I squealed, memories of the drop-tower ride at my hometown amusement park flooding my mind. I hated that ride, but my brother always made me go with him. Avery was trembling, though, and it took a moment for me to realize it was because he was giggling.

“I always love takeoffs,” he tittered, and then began to walk across the air in slow, bouncing leaps. The cool night wind caressed my cheeks as I leaned into his chest, blushing and grateful he couldn't see it in the dark. Looking down on the city below us, I could see where the black of the shore met the twinkling yellow of the boardwalk lights. In that moment, I forbade any further notion of this being a hallucination; even if it wasn't real, I was going to live as though it was.

+++

My feet kissed the ground just outside of my door. Looking up, I stared into the glittering blackness of Avery's face, the bits of ice in his cloud-head catching the lights around the apartment courtyard.

“Will I see you again?” I asked.

“If you like, certainly.”

“Can you come back tomorrow night?” I blurted out, blushing brightly -- and now, there was definitely enough light for him to see it.

For the first time, Avery laughed a real, genuine laugh. It was a symphony that started as a tinkling of giggles, crescendoing into a hearty boom that rattled my chest like a thunder clap, tickling my ears and making them flush.

“Absolutely, dewdrop.”

[fakesimp]

Hello!!! Can you do any angst/comfort with Shu or Mysta? I'm craving for comfort (⁠｡⁠ﾉ⁠ω⁠＼⁠｡⁠), Also welcome back (if you were gone?) [Sorry for my poor english!!(⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)]

"Come, and rest with me.." , With Shu Yamino , Mysta Rias

Warning !

Fluff ; Hurt/Comfort ; Mentions of Kissing ; Mentions of Overworking ; Established Relationship

A/n !

Why choose one when I can do both--. Also, Apologies in advance if Mysta's ooc ! I tried my best to write for him (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

And thank you for the welcome back ! Haha, I was taking a little break due to my writing block i had.

And worry not ! I understand you very well anon <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

➶◜◝➴

Shu Yamino

He, himself is already have a pretty messed up sleeping schedule. He doesn't want his lover also following his steps, but as much as he wants to tell you to rest, he often end up reflecting upon himself. It made him frowned for a moment, and because of that it took him quite awhile for him to finally confront you about your state, he is worried about you and your health after all.

He have seen you working through late nights, and barely getting any brink of sleep, there are also time when you didn't go to sleep at all. And it made him worry about you much more, even concerned. He had been trying to confront you about it, but he doesn't know how to say it without sounding rude. It took him almost a few days to courage himself to finally spoke up to you about it.

And today is the day,

He knocked on your door, you were working on some papers on the table. "Babe??" He called out behind the door, "Yeah?" You replied a bit loud. Face still on the paper in front you, you then heard the door getting twisted gently by the hand of your Beloved Sorcerer.

"Hey, babe.. You're still not done?" He slowly approached you, "It's, pretty late y'know.." he said as he look at the clock on the wall in your room. After he mentioned it, you also look over at the clock. That tells you it's already, 2 am.

You blinked and look down on the messy papers that's spread out on the floor, "It's, that, late already??" You said not realizing how late it is. "Hmm, I, need to finish this in a bit. You can--" "Babe, I don't want to sound rude, but, y'know, i noticed you have barely take enough sleep" he cuts you off in the middle of your sentence, you stared at him in awe.

"I know I, have a pretty messy sleeping schedule myself, but I am willing to fix it. Together, y'know?" He shyly said as he unconsciously fiddling with his hands before scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, "Shu.." you whispered and slowly stood up and approached him.

You wrapped your arms around him, you feel bad about not taking care of yourself properly, you also feel bad for not being able to take care of him too.

Both of you are in a messy state, and you know very well that both of you need to fix this.

"So, babe.. Come, and rest with me.."

His gentle hands moved to your cheek, gently rubbing his thumb along. Smiling down at you, he leaned and kisses you on the lips. "Well?" He whispered, expecting an answer from you.

What will you say to this unintentionally pleading Sorcerer?

You won't decline his request do you?

Mysta Rias

"You can go first Mysta, I'll join you later"

That's what you said, and he actually did go to bed first, expecting you to be there when he woke up either in the morning or in the middle of the night. Seeing your figure sleeping peacefully next to him, oh, how wrong he was.

Later that night, He woke up, only to see an empty side of the bed. He expected you to lay there with him, but no. You're not there, he groggily grabbed his phone and check the time. "What the.." his brows furrowed as he stare at the time on his phone for another minute, he then frowned, staring at the ceiling before letting out a small sigh.

He slowly rise up from the bed and went to where he could think where you're at, and you're exactly at where he expected you to be. He opened the door, and leaned against the door frame, staring at you in silence. "How, long are you going to sit there?" He announced himself by asking the question, making you slightly jump from your seat, "I thought you're going to join me a few hours ago." He continued as he slowly approached you.

"You know you can continue it in the morning right," he trailed off as he look over to see what you're working at, "I also noticed how you've barely getting any sleep nowadays babe." He continued as he look at you, worried. "You need a rest too, come on now." He said as he gently pull your hand, "Come, and rest with me.."

You sighed in defeat, he's right, you have been putting up all nighters the past few days trying to finish the work. You've barely getting any sleep, and you can bet yourself the moment your head hit the pillow you're going to pass out.

"Babe?" He called you as he held your hand a bit tighter, you can hear the worry in his voice, "Yeah, sorry-" you trailed off, "I'm sorry, for, making you worried." You apologized, making him slightly taken aback by it. "Why are you apologizing, there's nothing for you to apologize for.." he said as he then slowly wrapping his arms around you, you both stayed like that for a while before he decided to pull away.

He look at you for a moment, and then within seconds he pecked your lips, he immediately look away, flustered at what he just did. "N-now come on, let's go to bed"

You chuckled softly and walked together with him to your shared bedroom, "Cutie" "Shush.."

What a cute detective you have..

©fakesimp . 2023

A/n !

Here you go ! Hope you like this ! I tried writing for Mysta, I don't know if that's good enough-

But i hope you enjoy this anon (⁠ ⁠；⁠∀⁠；⁠)

[tomatoswup]

Hello !! Can i have some fluff for tristamp!vash please 👉👈 (i'm sorry if i made some grammatical mistakes, english is not my first language :'))

Reader is ww's little sister, and she admires her brother so much that she would copy his cool characteristics, but deep down her personality is more shy, introverted, pure and innocent (as a result of hanging around with vash). One day ww asked his sister to go and confess to vash already (bcs ww can't take it anymore to see both vash and his sister just so sickeningly oblivious about eachother's feelings). So the reader went to confess to vash trying to be cool like her brother and all but failed miserably and return to her original personality (which leaves her stuttering, fidgeting, etc.)

I just realized it's so long- (I'm sorry 😔) feel free to pass this req :D and please keep yourself safe and healthy despite your busy schedule ^^

Confess!

A/N: Thank you for the request anon🫶🫶 This came out alot more longer than i thought,, also sorry for the late response I was multitasking with some work I was doing for school :/ i hope i did the request right -wheeze- Sorry for making you wait D: Enjoy🌱

warnings/tags: vash x reader, little sister!reader and big brother! Wolfwood,,, fluff, 2 am writing bc i need to fix my sleep schedule asap💪💪,, trigun coded chaotic confession from reader,,

Wolfwood liked to consider himself to be an observer, in more ways than one. Being a "priest" on the side, observation was one of the key things he did to keep both you and him alive in these treacherous deserts of No Man's Land but sometimes.

Oh just sometimes, it felt like a curse. And maybe it felt like that because he had watched on as his baby sister slowly fell in love with a moralistic idiot...Eh like a quarter of an idiot really.

"Ow ow ow..." Vash winced in pain as you tightened the bandages on his arm. After a nasty bounty hunter encounter, the group of you guys had decided to take a moments break from the road and crash at this small town that hadn't been too far from where you guys had been. And since having been given a med-kit by a kind family you had run into a while back, you took it upon yourself to patch everyone up with a stern eye, one that Wolfwood often shot at people.

In reality, it was the worst stern eye that Wolfwood couldn't help but want to stifle his laugh.

"Oh shut it, always getting hurt." You scoffed at the sorry-smiling blonde, cleaning the small gash on his right cheek "You act like you can’t die Vash, we're not all immortal..." He let out another small squeak of pain as you accidentally pressed down a little too hard on the wound "You need to take care of yourself a little more."

"Sorry about that.. I’ll try to be careful next time.." Vash sweat-dropped, trying to stop shying away from the cloth of alcohol you held up to him.

From above, Wolfwood dug into the pockets of his jacket, rummaging for another loose lollipop as he watched from the top compartment of the car in silence to not disturb the pair of you.

What? He was there first! Talking about ruining his evening nap..He put the newly found lollipop into his mouth and continued to watch on.

"Hey..." Vash muttered as you swiped your finger across his cheek, making sure the bandage held up.

"Hm?"

With a jolt, you quickly looked up when you felt the warmth of another hand cover your own. "Are you okay?" Vash asked softly as he gave you a concerned glint. Shit, you hadn't noticed you were slightly trembling.

Maybe that encounter ruffled your feathers a bit too much...Were you okay?

"I-" You choked out, feeling that odd churning sensation in your chest that you've only really come to realize you would get only around him. And it made you mentally blow a fuse.

W-What do you say!?!

It took a moments thought before you regained your composure at the sudden touch "I'm..I’m fine Vash.” You reassured him, playfully using your freehand to fix the glasses that had been falling off his nose “Don’t worry about me.”

'Are you kidding me?' Wolfwood thought in exasperation. 2 months, these small little talks and touches have been going on for 2 months now. Two months of him enclosed in a car as the both of you passively flirted with each other.

Yes, passive. Little bits here and there and suddenly you wear his jacket sometimes?

He can't handle the both of you anymore, it felt like he was drinking a overly sugary soda.

At least put a name to it!

Spotting Roberto making his way back to the car from not too far away, an idea struck up in Wolfwood's mind. Something to end the suffering, and something to perhaps help his little sister out.

"HEY ROBERTO!" Wolfwood lazily called out, jump scaring both Vash and you into standing like mercenaries ready for war. Looking up, you couldn't help but frown to see your brother mischievously waving down at the two of you.

"TAKE NEEDLE NOGGIN WITH YOU TO FIND SOME OF THE CAR PARTS! Let his ass do something..." He muttered the last part under his breath as Vash sighed, ultimately being pulled from the back of his jacket by Roberto who continued to walk down the road.

Was that a "Can we leave" from Roberto or was it just you?

"I'LL BE BACK!" You heard the spiky blonde shout out to you, and well, you couldn't help but laugh out and wave.

"Now that he's gone..." Wolfwood pressed down on the lollipop with his teeth until a small crack emitted, starting to chew on the poor candy "Seriously? Why don't you just tell him you like him already?"

Stuffing the med-kit back into your bag, you brushed him off "Nic I don't like him.."

Your brother let out a large, rugged laugh "Are you kidding me? For just being friends you two spend an awful long time alone together."

You felt the heat rise up to your face and god did you hope that it was because of the sun.

"Sorry but I'm gettin' tired of seeing the two of you pin for each-"

Wolfwood was interrupted by your muttering, making him hop off the roof of the car for a closer listen "Wanna say that one more time?"

"I can't..." You muttered as you slapped your hands on your cheeks, shooting your older brother a worried, red look "What if he says no?"

No?

You were worried if the love-struck idiot said no?

Have you really not seen how he would stare at you?

Wolfwood couldn't help but tilt his head in disbelief, the stick of his lollipop hanging off the edge of his mouth "Did you really- You try acting like me but you can't confess a little crush? What happened to that?"

You couldn't help but let out a tired exhale, he did have a point after all. As much as you did try to act like him, all brave and careless, you weren't him. Most honestly, the opposite and Vash had come to prove it too many times that you could count.

And maybe you were a bit too mean while you were putting bandages on him..

You covered your mouth, shyly looking away from your brothers' gaze.

Those times he had comforted you whenever you couldn't sleep, or when you were hurt-

"Oh spare me the shyness!" Wolfwood put a hand on his waist, putting his weight to one leg "Shit, if you don't tell him then I'd might as well-"

"NO!" You gasped out in horror at the idea. "No?"

Picking your bag off the floor, you massaged the bridge of your nose "I'll....Shit I'll do it."

Eh, Wolfwood bet two lollipops and a cup of sand that you were really gonna do it. But anything to end this suffering he's witnessed for god knows how long.

"Well, I'm just sayin' you should do it already. Its been way past due anyways..." He flickered his eyes back to you as he roughly ruffled the top of your head, making you whine in annoyance "Ouch Nic stop-"

"Just tell me when you do it. I'll kick his ass if he tries anything weird-"

"SERIOUSLY!?"

"I'M BEING SERIOUS!"

///

And that's how you found yourself outside the small town's saloon. Having asked Meryl where Roberto had dragged Vash, she pointed you to the right direction yet it was one you were a bit hesitant to follow.

Did you ever expect yourself to go into a saloon alone?

Hell no, you didn't even really find yourself talking to people in places like that. The last few times you've actually visited a saloon were only really just you sitting in a corner with Meryl or trying your best to sit away from people, watching as you ate your little plate of food but...

Would it really look weird if you strolled right in?

"It's alright..." You egged yourself on quietly "You can do it..Maybe if I just stroll in like Nic it'll be easy..."

I don't think you've seen how Wolfwood himself has entered bars...yikes..

With only a seconds hesitation, you pushed your legs forward and through the wooden double doors of the saloon, striding right into the loud bustling energy filled room.

Okay maybe you should’ve waited a bit more-

Yelling, laughing and god knows what those words were thrown in the air as the severe smell of sweat reached your nose, making you instinctively scrunch your face in disgust. Ew.

"Excuse me miss!" A waitress yelped out, making you take a quick step back nearly avoiding a bad collision with the poor girl serving drinks. Busy day it seemed, but you were here for other things.

Let's see, where could the two of them be- The sudden shout of your name made you do a double take around the room until the flash of red met your eyes and before you realized it, you saw Vash's waving hand of blue shine under the lights.

Well that was easier than you thought!

A wide smile on his face, his eyes practically sparkled as you pushed past several bar-goers and to his table. "Aren't I glad to see you!" Taking the seat next to him, you looked around the room once again "Wasn't Roberto suppose to..." You trailed off, turning and seeing the bummed out look on Vash's face.

"Well, we were gonna get the parts, but he saw the sign outside-"

Ohhh, the "if you bring two people they'll give you 50% off" poster...Made a lot more sense to be honest.

"And well, I guess you know what happened from there..." He sighed, resting his head on his hand, closing his eyes dramatically before batting them up at you "Now why are you here? I know you're not a big fan of these kinds of places."

So it did look weird!

Oh god...Your face began to feel a bit more hotter than usual as you unconsciously started playing around with a loose thread on your pants "Oh um...W-Well I came to tell you..." You nervously laughed out as Vash obliviously smiled at you, waiting for your response.

What if he said no?

With that singular thought, that singular worry that ran through your head once again, you choked. Nope, you couldn't do this.

You felt your heart beat against the walls of your chest alongside the loud environment and it felt...overwhelming. You should’ve done this another time.

The wooden chair scratched across the floor behind you as you shot up from your seat, making Vash jump a little "Actually Vash, I actually wanted to show you something I learned!” You fake laughed, taking a few steps back "But I just think it's bad timing maybe if I could just go outside to think about it-" Fumbling over your words, you hadn't completely taken in your surroundings when suddenly, you felt your back bump into one of the servers.

And with a scream, the server flew backwards and straight into the nearby table, flipping everything onto the...Very burly men sitting around it.

oops…

"HEY!" One of them hollered at you as you threw your hands up in surrender, the bar shushing down as the rest of the men began to spit out threats like venom.

"Woah woah woah! Hey guys, can't we all calm down and just chat? Haha? Maybe my friend here could show you a few tricks she just learned!" Vash intervened, putting a hand on your shoulder as he pulled you back behind him, putting his own body infront of you. Sweat starting to run on his forehead, he gave you one last nervous smile, teeth baring out “Right?”

Definitely not.

As if everything froze, the saloon had gone as silent as a library after Vash's remark.

Ohhh you fucked up...

Big time.

It was until the sudden shout of "Bar Fight!" had run through the room that you snapped out of your daze, realizing someone move faster than you had.

Vash took the opportunity to quickly turn and tackle you down to the ground just in time to dodge various glass bottles that had been heading your way.

"Gotcha!" Vash breathed out, pushing a wooden table down so that the both of you could take cover from the mess that was amping up at every second. The screams, yells and things breaking had made you put your hand over your mouth and listen in horror at the mess you had just created because of your last minute attempt to run away.

"Vash I'm so sorry oh my god.." You cried out from beside him as he gave you a nervous laugh "It's really no problem- GYAH!" He screamed, throwing himself forwards whilst pulling you along to avoid the body of a heavy-weight bounty hunter that had almost been thrown into you guys.

"LIKE I WAS SAYING, THERES NOT REALLY ANY PROBLEM! WE BOTH KNOW THIS IS THE KIND OF TROUBLE I ALWAYS FALL IN!" He yelped as you hurridly crawled to the next table for cover, Vash following behind.

"WHAT DID YOU REALLY WANNA SAY? AT THE TABLE?!" He loudly asked as you snapped your red face to him.

Crap.

Can't escape it now can you?

“I LIKE YOU!” You blurted out over the noise, catching him off guard "But! But uh! Not like the regular kinda like ya know!? More like a like-like? More like you make my stomach flutter and-" You continued to jumble your thoughts out as they zipped through your mind at the speed of light.

Fight or flight? HELL FLIGHT!

Pulling yourself up from the floor and onto your feet, you looked back down at Vash without thinking “IT'S OKAY IF YOU DON'T-"

"WATCH OUT!"

//

By the end of the day, everything worked out! Uh...Kinda.

"Ow ow ow..." You groaned, trying to lean away from Vash as he wiped the dirt off from the bump on your forehead.

"Hey don't lean away from me~"

This felt familiar didn’t it?

Well, besides getting hit with a metal serving pan square in the head, the both of you were able to get out of that hell hole without any other big injuries besides from your dignity.

And you made a big note to yourself currently sitting on the saloon steps, to never go into a saloon again.

Of course you had to make such a mess whilst just trying to confess your love to someone, it just had to be your luck! Maybe that was what Wolfwood was rubbing off on you!

You tried your best to avoid Vash's peering eyes as the tips of his fingers caressed your forehead, causing goosebumps to run up your shoulders "I never gave you an answer did I?" He pondered. And before you knew it, you felt a quick sting of pressure on your forehead and right on the bump, both hands of his gentle with holding the sides of your cheeks.

"V-Vash!?" You gaped out as he backed away, the blush on his face mimicking your own as he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand "You really had a man's heart pumping with what you said back there! It might have not been as pretty with, uh ya know..” He wiped the bump on your forehead with his thumb “But I’ll always say yes, even if you confessed to me in the deserts or in space..”

You stifled your laugh “Oh really?”

“Definitely.”

The sun had begun to set orange and yellow, illuminating the back of Vash’s body and thinking about it, you hadn't regret all those feelings, or this chaotic moment with him.

It felt like a mental photo that you had taken as those bright blue eyes shined adoringly at you as you couldn't help but break out into giggles.

“You beat me to it though…” He chuckled as he got up and offered his hand down to you. "How does breakfast sound? Maybe I could..confess my love to you in donuts?”

“Well don’t mind if I do~”

Breakfast sounded perfect.

[hookhausenschips]

Burning Rubber

Chapter Six

F1 Masterlist

Burning Rubber Masterlist

Word Count: 2,177

Summary: Azha is enjoying her time away. Some of the F1 boys get a taste of the street racing life but it is not what they were expecting

Warnings: angst, fighting, blood, car accident, illusion to death, injuries from car accident, graphic content.

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Asha’s POV

Sitting in my lowrider after finishing it a few days ago, I smile knowing tonight is going to be phenomenal. A debut to the new me. I don’t plan on debuting the new car until later on, she still needs some upgrades. I haven’t seen Nova or Sariyah around in this scene since before the Vegas incident. I’m sure it had gotten out what had happened and not many people are very accepting of disloyalty. I have kept my silence not seeing a reason to give them my time. Even though all they’ve been talking about is me from the screenshots people send me. Lando and the Quadrant crew have continued to try to reach out. I just can’t bring myself to answer, they shouldn’t be around this lifestyle. I’m preventing them from being exposed to things they shouldn’t see.

Spending time with family has helped take my mind away from Vegas and the call from Lando. Although I haven’t been home in the past couple of days. Sleeping at the garage when I feel I need it after working on the cars. I received a call from Formula Drift yesterday regarding when training will start and scheduled a meeting to go over everything for my position at the beginning of next year. To say I am excited is an understatement, a new beginning. A better way to provide for my family aside from street racing. Speaking of, I check my phone and see it is almost time. I start the lowrider and listen to the engine purr before heading back to the garage to get ready.

“Hey Kalifòni papiyon (California butterfly), you on your way yet?” Jirani's voice rang through my phone. “Yeah, I’m about to hop in the car and I’ll be there in ten,” I said while pulling my shirt on and fixing my hair. “Did you give Edwin the money for my spot?” I question after hopping in my car and rolling out of the garage. “Yeah, you’ve got an hour and a half until the start,” Jirani spoke. “Okay, I’ll see you guys when I get there. Love you.” “Love you too Kalifòni papiyon.” We said our goodbyes and I scrolled through my phone for music. I decided to go with ‘On The River’ by Young Dolph. The bass fills my car as I cruise down the highway to where the pre-race meet is. I hear the cheers from everyone at my arrival some tapping my car. I smile, it feels good to be back. I spot where my brothers are parked and reverse my car into the spot between them. Getting out I am bombarded by some of the crowd, being lifted in the air as some chant my new street name “Nephthys!” Others just cheer. “Alright I missed you all too, you can set me down now!” I yell while laughing. The street race life, we are just one huge family. Being set back onto the ground the crowd dispersed, I asked one of the bystanders “Do you know where J and Kel are?” They pointed a little way down and I spotted their girlfriend’s cars. I smile and nod in thanks and head that way.

“There she is!” Jirani’s girlfriend Keyani said as she hugged me. Pulling away I go to hug Giana, Ja Khel’s fiancé. “Welcome home beautiful.” She whispered. I thanked her and turned to my brothers. I froze in shock. What the fuck. Standing talking with my brothers were Oscar, Charles, Max V, Carlos, Daniel, and the man I have tried avoiding; Lando. I turn back to the girls “What are they doing here?” I question. “They’re here with your brothers. They had showed up while you’ve been gone. We promised not to tell or else you wouldn’t show.” Keyani said sheepishly. Before I could respond I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and it was Jirani. He guided me to the group, “And here is the talk of tonight.” He said as I glared at him. The guys all turned to me, “So this is what you do besides drift racing?” Max asked. I nodded looking at him trying not to meet Lando’s gaze, “Is it practical? No. Legal? Also no but it’s something I love and have grown up doing. Nice seeing you guys again. I’m going to go find Edwin.” I say and turn to take off. “No need to, I have your radio right here.” Ja Khel said while handing me said device. I groan inwardly, these two idiots know what they’re doing. Looking behind the group I spot two people I never thought I would see again walking towards us.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking. Jirani get your hand off of me, I’m not staying here to get ambushed. There will be a fight you can’t prevent.” I say. They all looked confused until I point to Nova and Sariyah. My brother let me go and I began to walk towards my car until a voice rang out, “Always running. The only thing you’re good at Azha!” Suddenly the area became quiet. I spin around and March towards the two smirking, “You have no right to speak my name. I’m not running from anyone. I’m right here.” I push the radio into Ja Khel’s chest. Keyani and Giana came to stand beside me, the F1 boys standing by the girls’ cars. “You both know you’re not wanted here nor allowed in the underground anymore so I would suggest you take your shit boxes while they’re still driveable and leave,” Giana said while crossing her arms. “And I suggest you go take care of those fucking kids-.” Before Nova could continue, my fist connected with her jaw. Sariyah tried to grab my hair but Keyani was on her in an instant, “You’re not jumping nobody!” Nova tried to smack me and grab my hair but I punched her side. As she grabbed her side I swung again for her face and connected. She dropped but before I could do real damage someone wrapped their arms around me and pulled me back. I began to squirm, “Let me go!” I yelled.

Edwin had shown up as Jirani grabbed Keyani and Ja Khel held back Giana. “You two know you’re banned for life! Get the hell off my streets and if you ever show up again, I’ll make sure Azha gets hers in. Now move!” He told the two bloodied girls as two of Edwin’s guys hauled them off. I was still in the person’s arms and pulled away from the action. Once away I was let go and I swung around on the person. Lando. I froze. “Are you alright?” He asked and he looked me over. “I just fought someone who I called my best friend and you ask if ‘I’m okay’? That is fucking hilarious.” I deadpanned. “Azha drop the attitude please and just talk to me.” He begged. “There is nothing to talk about Lando. I told you to forget me and stay away. None of you are supposed to be here. What if someone started shooting? Then what? You are not meant to be in this environment. Leave.” I said and stormed off to my car for the start of the race.

Arriving at the line I look to my right and spot Lando with the group, I shook my head. He doesn’t listen. Hearing Edwin give the clear on the radio that cops were not around, one of the girls stood up in the back of his truck. She pointed at each of us drivers asking if we were ready. Revving our engines in response she got to the last driver. “Go!” And we all took off down the road.

Halfway through the race

Leading the pack of cars, with only two miles left until the finish line. I hit the second to last corner and take off down the road shifting gears. Before I could make it past the next intersection all I felt was a smash. And flipping multiple times before it all stopped and I began to black out.

Third Person POV

Azha shifted into second gear and was close to shifting to third until another vehicle hit her on the passenger side causing her car to flip. She rolled seven times before the car came to rest on its top. The other vehicle came to a stop next to Azha’s assessing the damage before taking off hearing the other racers approaching. Edwin stood in his tailgate waiting for the racers to cross the finish line until a voice rang out over the radio panicked. “Edwin we have a 267! Oh my god. Oh my god. Hey hey, stay with me you’re going to be alright.” Edwin felt his heart stop. A 267 was an accident with serious or critical injuries. “Who is it?!” He asked. He then grabbed the girl inside his truck to give the signal and handed her the radio. Four long honks sounded and everyone stopped speaking in shock. Edwin had grabbed his bullhorn and announced, “We have a 267 two miles back from the finish line. I need everyone to stay put until we can get everything sorted.” He spoke. “Edwin. It’s Azha.” The girl spoke. Edwin felt tears come to his eyes, the young driver was like a daughter to him. “Go get her group now!” He yelled.

Ja Khel, Giana, Jirani, and Keyani stood with the F1 guys talking about the race and explaining the underground to them when they heard the horn. They froze as the boys looked confused. “What’s happening?” Oscar asked. “Someone is hurt,” Giana spoke. “Four honks from Edwin means someone is hurt.” The boys all looked at each other in worry. Then they spotted one of Edwin’s girls running towards them. Giana felt tears spring to her eyes as she grabbed Ja Khel’s hand. “You all need to come with me now! Get in your cars and get to Edwin.” The girl spoke before taking off back to Edwin.

One of the racers had stopped and was trying to get Azha out of her car. The doors were smashed in and glass was scattered along the ground. “Azha I need you to stay with me alright? Keep your eyes open for me.” The male spoke as he crawled in. He took his knife and cut her seatbelt. Another racer had radioed to Edwin the situation and had called 911 after. The male then dragged himself and Azha out of the now-damaged car and the last racer grabbed her dragging her to the grass, laying her there. She checked for a pulse, finding that it was there the girl put pressure on Azha’s stomach where she was bleeding heavily.

“Edwin, what the fuck is going on? Where’s Azha?” Jirani asked as the group made it to the man. “I’m not sure what happened. The other drivers are with her. It’s a 267.” The man spoke. Giana and Keyani began to cry. “What’s a 267?” Charles had asked. The boys had not known Azha that well but they cared for her, especially after seeing how happy she made their fellow driver Lando. “What’s the worst red flag situation in F1 that isn’t death?” Ja Khel asked. The boys all felt their hearts drop. The radio rang again, “Edwin it’s a bad scene but tell her group to come. They need to be here just in case.” One of the drivers spoke. Edwin nodded at the group, “Go.” The group piled into the cars and took off for the accident.

Arriving at the scene the group gasped in horror spotting the mangled car. Parking Jirani and Ja Khel sprinted towards the drivers wanting answers as their girlfriends and the F1 crew were escorted to where Azha lay. Soon enough they all heard the sirens of the ambulance and spotted the lights. They all began to flag down the ambulance. The girl holding pressure on Azha’s wound was then replaced by one of the paramedics. “You guys should go. Get out of here. Thank you.” Giana told the other racers as she watched from the curb as paramedics did their job. The drivers hesitated before running to their cars and taking off. “We’ve lost her pulse!” One of the paramedics said and the group stood in horror. CPR was being done until the other paramedic brought out the defibrillator. Turning on the machine and waiting for the numbers to read ‘4,000’. “Clear!” Then Azha’s body jolted. Nothing. “Clear!” Azha’s body jolted again. Nothing. The girls sobbed. The F1 crew had tried to hold back their tears.

Lando had a million thoughts rushing through his head. What if they couldn’t bring her back? He never got the chance to tell her how he felt. “We’ve got a pulse!” Rang through the cold California air. One of the paramedics approached the group as her partner continued to make sure Asha’s condition was stable. “Are you family?” She asked. The group nodded, afraid for the worse. “We are going to have her Medivac to Zuckerberg Trauma Center. Do you know where that is?” They all said no in response. “It is in San Francisco, in my opinion, it is one of the better options for a trauma center. And getting her there by Medivac will be the fastest just to make sure her chances of survival are higher instead of taking her to a hospital and then transferring her.” The paramedic explained. “We will however have to transport her a little ways down so the helicopter has a place to land.” She added. “Can we see her?” Giana asked. “I would not suggest that, but if that is what you want you can before we transport. You can follow us to the triage area as well.” The paramedic answered. The group nodded and walked to the ambulance where Azha was placed on the stretcher. “Hey Cade, the family would like to see her.” The paramedic told her partner before he loaded the injured girl into the ambulance. He nodded, “Hurry up, she’s critical.” The man told them.

Ja Khel grabbed his sister’s bloodied hand as the others stood beside him looking over her broken and bloody body. “You’re strong Azha, you always have been. You will pull through. We need you here alright? I love you.” His voice cracked. The rest of the group said their thoughts before the paramedic said they needed to leave. The group watched as their friend and sister was loaded into the ambulance before running back to their cars to follow the ambulance.