#he said he liked me... he wanted me... that he did in fact find me attractive

[theemporium]

[1.7k] travelling can be stressful, but it's a little easier when your swiss grizzly bear boyfriend is by your side.

.

It was stupid. 

You were fully aware it’s stupid. People liked to remind you how stupid they found it. It was something so, so stupid and being so painfully aware just made it worse. Because logic didn’t work, despite what countless people tried to tell you. Their reassurances and rationality didn’t help the way your brain spiralled until it could latch on to every single possible thing that could go wrong.

And you knew, nine times out of ten, nothing would happen. In fact, you could count on one hand the times your spirals had played out and became a reality. But that didn’t stop you having the spirals, and it didn’t stop the way your brain processed everything. 

Unfortunately, even your own common sense lacked in the battle between your brain and the anxiety travelling brought you. 

It was something you were mostly mocked for and, truthfully, you could understand their perspectives. It did sound silly when you tried to explain to your coworker the fact you couldn’t sleep the night before a journey, even if you had done it a million times before. It did sound dramatic when you tried to explain the fear a new destination brought you, regardless of how much research you did. But they didn’t get it, they don’t understand that voice in the back of your head whispering away. 

What if this is the one time something goes wrong? What if there is an accident?  What if something gets cancelled?  What if the traffic is worse than usual and you’re late? 

Random but burdening questions rattled in your head on the days coming up to a big trip. It’s why you hated booking them in the first place, because you knew exactly how you would react. And you told yourself it would be different, that you wouldn’t be so dramatic this time, that you could handle it.

And, without fail, you would find yourself sick to your stomach the morning of the trip, unable to stomach anything beyond a piece of toast (if you were lucky).

“Do you think you would know if I was replaced by an alien?” 

You blinked, taking a few moments to process the question before you turned to find Nico already looking at you, a contemplative look on his face. 

“What?” 

“Like, I’m sure you would notice but how long do you think it would take you to figure it out?” He questioned, his hand resting on your knee and lightly squeezing as he spoke. 

You stared at him for a few moments, trying to wrap your head around his question before you let out a breathless laugh. “What are you going on about?” 

“You looked lost in your thoughts,” he said, keeping his voice low so he couldn’t be heard above the music the taxi driver was playing through the radio. “I can see inside that pretty head of yours. You were spiralling.”

Your cheeks flushed in response. “I’m sorry—”

But Nico cut you off with another squeeze to your knee and a kind smile on his face. “You don’t have to apologise for it,” he reassured you. “I just wanted to help.”

Something in your chest tightened at his words. 

“For the record,” he continued, saving you once again when he could see emotions overwhelming your ability to speak. “I think it would take me five minutes tops if you got replaced by an alien.” 

You snorted. “What? Five minutes? There’s no way.”

“I know you, schatz,” Nico shrugged in response. “I would be able to tell.”

“Aliens could have crazy technology far too advanced for humans to comprehend,” you argued back and, for the first time since you went to bed last night, your brain was thinking about something other than long security lines, overpriced airport snacks and cancelled flights. “I could have been replaced by an alien months ago and you wouldn’t have realised.” 

“I would know,” Nico said, sounding far too sure of himself as he flashed you a smile. “I doubt aliens would know that you make a little sound whenever I–”

“Nico!” You hissed, your eyes widening as you glanced at the taxi driver with worry. 

And the fucker had the audacity to giggle in response as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tugging you against his side as much as your seatbelt would allow. 

“I was just going to say when I tickle you,” he said with a shameless grin. “I don’t know what dirty thoughts are in your head, schatz.” 

You huffed, nuzzling further into his side. “You’re evil.”

“And you love me anyways.”

You rolled your eyes, but Nico knew from the smile on your face that he was right. 

You knew exactly what he was doing and, truthfully, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to call him out on it. Because it was working. Because he was Nico and he would deny it but he wouldn’t stop, even if you did call him out. Because there was a warm feeling in your stomach at the idea that someone—that Nico—cared enough to go out of his way to make you more comfortable.

Because he was Nico Hischier and he was just the kind of guy that went out of his way to make his loved ones more relaxed, to take on that captain role beyond the ice.

You barely got a chance to climb out of the taxi before Nico was already reaching for the bags in the boot of the car, pulling them out and only giving you the lightest ones he couldn’t physically carry whilst also holding your hand. You didn’t bother to hide your smile.

It was a feeling you didn’t have with many people. Or at all, usually. Especially when you were travelling. Your brain was working on overdrive, your eyes constantly looking around like some unexpected variable was going to throw your plans off. You couldn’t physically stop how wired and on edge travelling made you.

But something about travelling with Nico made it easy to just let your brain switch off. 

You were far too focused on ogling the way he casually carried more bags than one person should, carrying them with such ease that made your head spin a little. Far too focused on the way he guided you through the bustling airport, so sure of himself and so in control as he led you towards the front desk where you could check your luggage in and grab your boarding passes. 

You didn’t even get a chance to reach for your hand luggage before Nico took the smaller suitcase in his hand, his other hand on the small of your back as he led you towards security with no sight of the panicked rushing that you were used to. 

“Do you think aliens could make it past airport security?” 

You snorted. “Do not start this again.”

Nico’s smile widened in response. 

Security passed as quickly as one would expect for such a busy airport (meaning not very fast at all) but it was easy to not think too long about it when Nico was chatting your ear off with a million different topics. The possibility of missing your flight (despite being over three hours early) didn’t cross your mind as Nico scrolled through the endless TikToks Jack had sent him, or pictures Jonas had sent, already back home in Switzerland earlier than Nico.

“Here,” Nico called out to get your attention. 

You turned around, finding him reaching into his backpack before pulling out a bundle of fabric. You raised your brows in questioning but took it from him without second thought. It took you a few moments before you realised it was one of his hoodies. 

“You brought two hoodies?” You questioned. 

“No, one is for you,” he answered like it was obvious. “It’s your favourite one, too. I made sure not to pack it away in the big case.”

Your face softened in seconds. “Nico.” 

“None of that,” he murmured as he stepped forward, taking your face in his hands as his thumbs lightly skimmed along the apples of your cheeks. “I want my girl to be as comfortable as possible, okay? So, you’re gonna put that hoodie on, we are gonna get some food in you and then we can relax by the gate. I have card games and playlists and your kindle in my bag too, because you almost forgot to pack it last night. I made sure it was charged too.” 

Your eyes welled up with tears before you could stop yourself. “I love you.”

He beamed in response. “I love you too,” he answered before leaning down to press a lingering kiss against your lips. “And I cannot wait to kick your ass at the new card game Timo taught me on the way back from LA.”

“Oh?” You raised your brows. “You’re so sure you’ll win?”

“I always win,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you again before he pulled away. “I won you, didn’t I?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re so cheesy today.”

“You’re going to be stuck on a plane with me for the next few hours, better get used to it.” 

“I should have taken Jack up on his offer to go to the lakehouse instead,” you grumbled, but there was unwritten relief on your face as you wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning against him as he squeezed you closer. 

“You’ll love Switzerland far more than you would have liked Michigan,” Nico assures you, lips brushing against the top of your head. “The food is better. And so are the views. And it has something Michigan doesn’t have.”

Your curiosity peaked. “Hm?” 

Nico’s head shifted down a bit, his lips brushing against your ear as his voice dropped until it was a whisper only you could hear. “A cabin I booked away for the week, just for me and you. No city, no people. Just us, a lake and so many surfaces I can’t wait to fuck you on.”

Your cheeks burned as you pulled back, glaring at his smug expression. “Nico!”

“What?” He looked giddy, dimples popping and making your stomach twist in desire. “I saw those little dresses you packed, baby. Don’t think I won’t be taking full advantage of it.”

“You’re a menace.” 

“And this menace loves to make you come,” he retorted, quickly leaning down to kiss you again before you could reply. “Now, c’mon. We have plenty of time to kill and I even downloaded some movies Nina recommended. Everything is going to be fine, baby.”

And you were just so inclined to believe him. 

.

[hoesformatt]

“YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT”

chris smut, this was an old draft but i fixed it up and here we finally have the long awaited plug fic…

dom!plug!chris • poc!reader friendly

contains: mentions of smoking and drinking, choking, heavy petting, making out, edging, orgasm denial, cowgirl, pet names, no use of y/n

word count: 1.5k

not proofread

It was getting late, I was getting lonely and bored so I decided to go grab my smoke bag to find my tin. I got all giddy when I found my tin, but then my smile disappeared when I felt there was no weight to the tin.

Please tell me there’s something in here, please tell me there’s something in here, I repeated in my head but to no surprise, there was nothing but the whiff of weed and my hopes and dreams.

I contemplated on what I was going to do on my Saturday, either sit here and puff on my nicotine til I got nic sick, or call my plug aka my late night therapist, which I did not want to do.

He is my last resort call because of our history, my plug was one of the scariest people I’ve ever met and I try not to ring him too much because I do not want to see him… but I do at the same time. He is fine as fuck, I can’t deny that shit but I am petrified by him even so I’ve never given him my address and I always meet him at his place.

I decided to face my fears and shot him a text

Are u up?

What do you need mama

He replied immediately and called me that pet name that gave me instant butterflies

I ran out, I need a new pack of woods

it’s about fucking time

My heart dropped to my ass

you buy so much shit and then dip, I like seeing you

Fuck, what do I say. I was lowkey feeling how he was flirting with me. My thoughts were interrupted by another text

Let me pull up on you

Hell the fuck no.

The usual place?

Nah

Lemme pull up, it’s late and shit

It’s no problem, the usual place is good i’ll be there in 10

Being left on delivered, I was tripping out at this point. I guess I’m thugging it out tonight… sober. I grabbed my juicy peach ice, geek bar from the cushion beside taking a puff. May the pulse be with you I guess, I was thinking in my head too much, trying to remember where I put my blinker.

Hearing a car driving past my driveway, I glanced at my front door and the window beside it trying to see who is. A car door shut close and then the door soon began to jiggle and open.

I frantically ran into the kitchen but when I turned around and looked in the living room I saw my plug walking into my home, holding a plastic white bag, bee-lining for my couch “FUCK CHRIS, What the fuck are you doing here, how the fuck do you know where I live?!” This is exactly why I’m terrified of him.

My heart felt like it was beating 1000 beats per second right now, and it was not going down. It’s like he was a serial killer out for my blood. Apart from the fact that Chris walked into my house as if he owned it, I’m half naked wearing the smallest Ethika set ever.

My eyes almost instantly scaled to crotch, clothed behind his grey sweatpants. “I followed you home before” Chris had two paper bags, pulling out a dark liquor and a bottle of tequila. I was trying to still catch my breath, attempting to register everything at once. “Last time you needed shit it was around this time, a rando was watching you, so I followed him to your house,” Chris said it so casually, popping open the Hennessy “You have shot glasses? and chasers?” He looked up at me for a response.

Finally, I calmed myself down after he told me someone was following me and I just pulled out the glasses and sodas from my fridge “Get yourself one too” He suggested.

He then got up taking the can of Pepsi and the glass from my hands to my living room table. I slowly followed after him, finding my place, far away from him. “C’mere baby, don’t be shy” Chris gestured for me to sit beside him and I didn’t move an inch.

Chris grabbed his waistline pulling out a gun from there, tossing it casually across the other side of him then looked back at me. “Now what?” He arose from his seat to come and sit next to me, sliding a shot to me. “It’s too late for me to drink” I came up with a petty excuse. Chris scoffed, downing both of the shots without making a face, straight Hennessy.

“Ok.” He raised out of the position he was in taking the white bag beside him opening it pulling out packs of woods. “How much are you gonna buy then, since you want me gone.” I snatched two packs the Loose Leaf, Watermelon Dream from the pile, almost salivating about the thought of the high I was going to get. “Let me get my wallet” I got up but Chris’ legs were in my way “‘Xcuse” When I walked past him my ass brushed his face which Chris touched.

I gazed down at him, completely infatuated by my juicy ass, unable to keep his hands to himself. I brushed it off since I was too happy to care. I collected my wallet pulling out my cash, I handed it to him, still standing up “I don’t want your money” He said flinging the money in my direction. Chris’ glacial blue eyes fucked me, and he found it hard to control himself. I noticed his cock grew hard in his sweatpants, and he bucked his hips upwards, enticing me. “You know what I want.”

Finally I gave in, straddling his lap and his hands immediately pulled me down to press upon his hardness. I waved my hips, making him moan as I took control.

Chris grasped my neck with aggression while stripping me of my tube top, lowering it. He latched his lips to my nipples, moving his hands down to my hips and helping me wave them. “Take your shorts off.”

Raising me, I removed my shorts in anticipation as he set free his large length that slapped against his stomach. He whipped out a condom from one of his pockets sliding it onto his length. When I got back on his lap, he had licked his two fingers, dipping them into me then back out to lick his fingers. “You must love me with the way you’re so wet for me” Chris smirked, aligning himself to my pulsing cunt. He pushed my hips down to settle onto his cock, I threw my head back to the feeling of him stretching me out.

With no patience Chris began to thrust upwards with a tight grip on my waist, making my tits jump. I cupped my hands over my mouth because I couldn’t show him how good he was making me feel, reaching points I didn’t know were there. Chris smacked my hand "Don't cover your mouth, I want to hear you” The sounds of his raspy voice and the wet noises faded together, I felt our wetness puddle under me. “Tell me how good I’m making you feel” Chris whispered in my ear.

I couldn’t believe that he was making me cum so quickly and he knew it, so he took his thumb and massaged my clit relentlessly trying to get the words out of me. “Tell me.” I shook my head no but my body was beginning to grow tired. Then he stopped. He stopped thrusting into me and I whined, “If I don’t make you fell good you should do it yourself right?” Chris didn’t care at all and I needed my release badly.

I took both of his wrist, putting them behind his head to ride my high. My erotic movements made Chris twitch inside me as he hit wall to wall.

It was so addicting that I wanted to feel him raw inside me and when I pulled his cock out of me, the condom was coated his sticky liquids. I yanked the rubber off his length and it slowly rolled up until it was off and I threw it elsewhere, jumping back on his dick.

Chris succumbed to my wetness, whimpering loudly as I wrapped around him. I bounced on his cock, hoping that my legs wouldn’t give up on me but Chris suddenly decided to take control again and ram into me. “I need to cum, I need to cum, please, please” I begged Chris to let me cum, reaching my climax. “Yes Chris, yes, yes—” Just as I was about to cum, Chris pulled out again and this time he threw me back on the couch.

“Please Chris, why— ” He had put back on his pants, packing up the rest of his shit.

“I don’t fuck ungrateful whores” He said casually, gripping my hair and kissing my cheek.

tags: @lunariaxzz @chrissturniolosbitch @leahsbussy @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @idkwhosnyla @zayyluvz @i8kth @nonamegirlxsturniolo @ka1nani @livvy4realll @fuzzycupcakebeliever @mattgirly @love4chris @mattslutt @nickgetsmewetter @hearts4chriss @thenickgirl @jnkvivi

[cuubism]

I kind of just forgot to finish this fic - whoops!

physical therapy - the final installment

Hob helps him put all his books and things away. It gives his flat slightly more color and life. Dream still feels his lost art as an aching hole in his chest but at least he has this, Hob and these incremental improvements.

When they’re done he orders takeaway, and over his lo mein he mulls on what happened, on what he said. Hob didn’t actually say it back. But it— it’s fine. Even if Hob doesn’t say it aloud, it’s okay. Dream knows that Hob loves him. He shows it. He doesn’t need to say it. Dream’s ex-lover had, after all, said that he loved him frequently. “Come on, you know I love you.” But where had it shown up? That was not love. It was the opposite of love.

So he doesn’t need Hob to say it back, it is enough that he—

“Hey, Dream?” Hob says, interrupting his thought. His smile is warm, successfully banishing any hope of Dream finding his line of thinking again, as sunlight does to shadows. “I love you.”

“You were just thinking that now?” Dream asks weakly.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t say it before. I was too startled that you did.”

Dream supposes he had said it somewhat… fast. He has often been too fast in relationships, but he means it this time, in a different way than before. This love is fast but it’s real. It’s not just infatuation, or, as he’s slowly realizing some of his past relationships may have been, simply desperate bids to feel loved.

“I’m glad you were my physical therapist,” he says, and Hob laughs. I’m glad that we found each other.

“Me, too.” He takes Dream’s hand, the mostly-fixed one. “And I’m glad you got out. That was really brave.”

Dream scoffs. “I do not see how being so afraid could be brave.” He had never felt brave. Only terrified.

“That’s exactly why it was brave,” Hob insists. “You were scared but you didn’t let it stop you. And you didn’t let it stop you from creating art again, either.”

Hob seems to believe it quite fervently. Perhaps… Dream can try to believe it as well. “Maybe,” he concedes.

“Definitely,” Hob says.

Dream decides not to contradict him this time. He just eats his food, and basks in Hob’s company, coming back again and again to the fact that Hob went to get his things for him, defended him. Every time he thinks about it, he feels warm inside.

And later, when he curls up with Hob in bed, he thinks he feels… good. And safe. And maybe hopeful.

—

Several weeks later.

—

Dream has taken to spending more time in Hob’s flat than his own. Though his flat feels slightly more homey with the addition of his books and other things, it’s still not quite right. And he can’t shake the habit of blocking the door when he’s home alone. He still feels safer if he’s in Hob’s space, if Hob is around.

He doesn’t realize Hob knows that until he pushes aside the shelf he’d shoved in front of the door to let Hob in one night, and Hob looks from him to the shelf and back and says, “Are you still doing that?”

“What,” Dream says, eloquently.

“I can hear you,” Hob says, with a sad little smile. “Just didn’t want to make you feel awkward about it.”

“Oh,” says Dream, suddenly embarrassed. He— he should be more confident, shouldn’t he? And yet.

“You can come to my place if you want?” Hob says. “Even if I’m not there. I’ll give you a key.”

Dream goes to turn him down out of hand, he doesn’t need Hob to do that for him—

But. He wants it.

“Hell,” Hob says, and now he’s the one who seems nervous, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “just move in if you want. I like having you there.”

“You,” Dream says slowly, “would let me move in? Already?”

Hob gathers his confidence, taking a deep breath. “Why not? If you want to.”

Why not, indeed.

The more Dream thinks about it, the more he finds he likes the thought. He does not know if he can transition his entire life into Hob’s flat, not yet. Perhaps he’ll maintain his own flat as an art studio, or as a sort of… escape route, for he does not think he can handle having to flee his own home with nowhere to go ever again. But, on a regular basis… he thinks he might like simply being with Hob. It feels easy. Is it alright for it to just feel easy?

“…Okay,” he says, at length, and Hob beams. If he had smiled like that from the beginning, Dream might not have paused to think. He would do anything for that smile.

“Okay!” Hob echoes, still with that beaming smile that makes Dream feel like he’s standing directly in the sun. “I’ll get you a key.”

Dream smiles back, and his smile feels almost as easy as Hob’s.

—

The night after moving the last of Dream’s things in—he has, in fact, maintained his flat as a studio, but has moved everything else—flush with rather too much wine, they find themselves sitting in bed, having made the dubious, intoxicated decision to break out Hob’s barely used finger paints.

Giggling drunkenly, Hob dabs some blue paint on Dream’s forehead. Dream goes cross-eyed trying to look at him.

“You are bringing your meager finger painting skills to bear to paint me now?” he says.

“Is there a more perfect canvas?” Hob traces a star shape onto Dream’s cheek. “Besides. I’m no good with the canvases. You’ve seen it.”

“Your skills lie elsewhere, I think,” Dream agrees, and Hob laughs. “But they are many. However. Since you’ve started this, you should know—” Dream’s lips twitch in amusement like he's about to start laughing over something he knows and Hob doesn’t. "This is not body paint.”

"So? It's just tempera paint, it's not dangerous."

"No," Dream agrees, trailing his fingertips across Hob's chest, "but it is going to stick in your hair."

Fuck.

Dream giggles, then slathers a whole palm full of orange paint across Hob's chest, truly coating his chest hair in it, tracing a heart pattern in its wake. God, he's a menace.

"Oh, no," says Dream, deadpan, "now you will have to soak in the bath for hours to get it all out."

Hob dips his fingertips in the blue glitter paint and smears it over Dream's temple, tangling his fingers in the longest strands of his hair. "Now you'll have to be there with me."

"Horrible," Dream says, giggling again. “How will I survive it?”

Hob draws a heart shape on his chest, then kisses him, getting paint on his mouth. It tastes horrible, but he doesn’t care, because he’s kissing Dream. It’s always a marvel.

Dream curls his hands into Hob’s hair, making it all tacky with paint. He kisses Hob’s cheek, leaving a painted mark. “I think you are a lovely canvas,” he says. “Perhaps the loveliest. Should I paint you? I think you would look gorgeous.”

The thought of Dream’s delicate fingers all over him as he makes his paintings makes Hob shiver. “Paint me all orange? I’m sure it’ll be flattering.”

“Orange, and red, and yellow,” says Dream. “The colors of the sunset.”

Hob feels unexpectedly sentimental about it. “I’d think an artist like you would be using words like ‘ochre.’”

“Unfortunately,” Dream says with utter seriousness, “finger paint does not come in ochre. Though it would certainly complement your skin tone.”

Hob laughs. Resolves to try to find finger paint in ochre just to make Dream smile.

“You’ll just have to make it with the primary colors,” he says.

Dream grins, caught immediately by the paints, and sets to painting Hob how he sees fit. Hob submits to the treatment. Tries to cope with the feeling of Dream’s fingers all over him without having to put the paints aside and initiate another activity entirely.

Later, buzzing with the feeling of Dream touching him and sticky with paint, he finds himself in the bath, Dream lying against his chest and dragging his fingers through Hob’s chest hair, leaving eddying swirls of orange paint in the water as it slowly washes off. Dream’s own hair is still clumped together with blue glitter.

“This is slower to come out than I even anticipated,” Dream observes, still lightly touching Hob’s chest. “Perhaps next time you might acquire actual body paint.”

“Maybe next time you’ll just make a painting of me instead of painting me,” Hob suggests, chuckling.

“It was your idea,” Dream reminds him.

He lays his cheek on Hob’s shoulder, smearing more of the wet paint. “This was fun. I always enjoy the time I spend with you.”

Hob runs a hand through his hair, dripping water and streams of blue. It’s worth any and all mess to see Dream smile the way he had. “Me too, love.”

“Being with you makes me want to make art again,” Dream says. His lips quirk in amusement. “And not only on you.”

It’s really all Hob had ever wanted.

“I’m glad, sweetheart,” he says, holding Dream close, “I’m so glad.”

—

A few months later.

—

Hob is so proud of Dream for deciding to exhibit some of his art again. Hob’s always thought Dream’s new art was lovely, but he knows Dream didn’t always feel the same way. And still, his new art doesn’t look the same as his old pieces. But he’s putting on an exhibition anyway.

Hob might have taken him out for an embarrassingly extravagant dinner to celebrate the announcement.

Now he’s reaping the rewards—the reward, of course, being gazing at Dream in his formal wear. He looks incredibly elegant in his glittering black suit. It had taken Hob a while to get his mind back online after first seeing him, and he’d had to dip him into a kiss before they left the flat.

Now that they’re actually at the show, he’s managing better to keep his thoughts suitable for a public space, but mainly because he’s more focused on how Dream is feeling. And on keeping any unsavory characters away, should they dare to show up.

But as they stand in the corner of the room, watching the people milling about and studying the paintings, Dream is fidgeting. Shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet, rubbing his fingers together. Hob watches him do it for a few minutes before finally saying something.

“Are you worried he’s going to show up? Because I’ll throw him out.”

“I know you will,” Dream says. Still, he keeps watching the room nervously, all the people meandering around, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s not that. It’s… what if they all hate it?”

Hob takes his hand and squeezes it. “Did you used to get nervous before?”

“Sometimes. But I knew, at least, that I felt confident in what I had made. What anyone else thought of it was of less importance.” He looks up at the painting they’re closest to, a large, cool-toned piece. “I still feel sometimes that it is not right, now.”

“Maybe it’s right for now,” Hob says, and Dream looks at him questioningly. “Didn’t most famous artists have seasons? They didn’t always work in the same style for their whole careers.”

“I suppose that’s true.” He sighs. “I am still getting used to it.”

“You also don’t have to sell them, if you don’t want to,” Hob points out. “Remove that whole bit from the equation.”

“I want to know that I can,” says Dream. “That this, as a career, is not hopeless.”

“I’ll buy them,” Hob swears.

“One, that would result in a net of zero money coming in. Two—” his lips twitch up— “you can’t afford me.”

“You’re right, I can’t. You should have tipped your physical therapist, then maybe I could.”

“I’m already sleeping with my physical therapist, now I have to pay you as well?”

“Sex can’t buy paintings, Dream,” Hob says sadly. “Well, unless...”

“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll just do a portrait of you for my next exhibition,” Dream muses. “A nude one.”

“Hell yeah,” Hob says, and Dream, evidently anticipating a no, starts giggling. “Just don’t sell it. Makes me feel weird to think of some random guy with one of my nudes above their mantlepiece.”

“One of your nudes?” Dream asks, raising an eyebrow. “There are others I’m unaware of?”

Hob just winks at him.

Dream studies him, intrigued, for another moment, tongue running over his lower lip. He’s learned what that sort of look does to Hob.

Hob swallows hard. “Could get started on it now?”

Dream chuckles. “Later. For now—” he straightens his shoulders— “I must try to sell this art.”

In the end, Dream did manage to sell a few paintings. Hob didn’t even buy any, though he was tempted to. Even without his interference, Dream left the exhibition flush with cash and, more importantly, pride.

Hob knew he hadn’t really believed he could do it: make art again in the first place, and especially not of a quality that someone would buy. But he’d done it.

He’d insisted on taking Hob out afterwards, rather than the other way around, and now Hob is shepherding a rather drunk Dream back to their flat.

“They actually liked it, Hob,” Dream says, and hiccups. He leans heavily against Hob’s side as Hob tries to maneuver them up the stairs to the flat. “The new art. They liked it.”

“I know, sweetheart, they did,” Hob agrees as he somehow gets them both through the door. He tumbles them into the bedroom and sets Dream down on the bed. Dream flops backwards, lying on his back on the mattress.

“It’s allll because of you,” he slurs, staring up at the ceiling. “You fixed…” he waves his hand vaguely.

Hob gets Dream’s shoes off, and then his own, and crawls into bed beside him. Their nice jackets and shirts crumple but he pays it no mind. “Oh, yeah? What did I fix?”

Sober Dream, he thinks, knows that this wasn’t really Hob’s doing. That no matter what Hob had contributed in terms of rehabilitating his hand, it was Dream who still had to put in the work to get back here. Dream knows that, usually.

Drunk Dream is trying to tell him something different, he thinks.

“All of it,” Dream insists. He lays his limp hand over his heart. “Me.”

“Aw, sweetheart.” Hob leans over him to kiss him. Dream hums in pleasure and twines a hand in his hair, tugging him down.

“I love you,” he mumbles, lips smearing against Hob’s. He sounds so happy. Very, very drunk still, but happy. Hob remembers the caged, nervous Dream he’d first met, who’d barely wanted to let him see his hand. Maybe he has managed to fix something, after all.

“I love you, too, baby,” he says, unexpectedly choked up. Dream cuddles him close, burying his face in Hob’s neck, worming his limbs around him so they’re all tangled up together. Hob holds him like that until he falls asleep, resigning himself to their ruined formal wear, basking in the fact that Dream is happy.

It’s all that matters to him, in the end.

[ah0minecchi]

IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT?!♥︎ megumi f. x reader

Ꮺ in which meeting megumi fushiguro was a complete, but sweet, sweet chaos . . .

cw: angsty af, mentions of intimacy, use of alcohol if u squint

NOW PLAYING! 💿 cherry waves - deftones

<𝟑.𖥔 ݁ ˖

dear megumi:

sometimes i wish i could tear apart this heart of mine, that’s apparently too big for my body. i wish i could just shut down everything you were and are for me. i wish i could turn off everything you light up in me. ever since the beginning…

[ ♥︎ ]

“so you’re fushiguro… yuuji talks a lot about you.” i looked at him, finally getting to meet my best friend’s best friend… wow. “just call him megumi, y’all are basically indirect friends at this point.” yuuji laughed, which i followed, looking at the raven haired boy for his approval.

“call me what you like.” megumi responded nonchalantly.

[ ♥︎ ]

i’ve been wondering nonstop what the fuck i did wrong. did i not deserve you? wasn’t i good enough? all those times i dropped everything just to run after you, all those times i promised you the whole world… weren’t they enough? weren’t you tired? of having me chase you around all day? did it bore you? having someone care so deeply about you, but not feeling the same about them?

i don’t think you can even imagine how it feels… cause, fuck.. has anyone ever said ‘no’ to you? have you ever wanted to pursue something that doesn't want you until it suffocates?

it hurts. it really fucking hurts.

[ ♥︎ ]

“are you at the party yet?” megumi asked through his phone, reaching my ear. “yeaaahhhh, im kinda drunk to be honest hahaha… but it’s real fun in here! you should come… pleeeaaasee.” there were a few seconds of silence until megumi broke it, shoting straight to my heart in the process.

“i don’t know how the fuck i’ll get there… but i will get there.” he hung up, leaving me excitedly waiting for him as i told all of our friends he was attending.

[ ♥︎ ]

that one night you kissed me, did i mean anything to you? cause at that very moment, to me, you were the whole world. my whole world. that one night i ended up tangled in your sheets. was i just another one on the list? cause to me, it was the very first time i felt cared about. you showed me the love i never thought i’d deserve.

could i even call it love?

i think you’d just call it lust.

[ ♥︎ ]

“how is yuuji going to find out about this?” i asked megumi as i ruffled his bed hair. “i think we should just tell him… but not now.” he answered as he scanned every detail on my face.

[ ♥︎ ]

i wish i knew what you meant by that. all the while i wanted to keep you as a promise, you just wanted to keep me as a secret. i wish nothing had ever happened, not because i regret it, nor did i not love it for a moment, but because i don't want to feel like this anymore. not with you.

i tried. i tried to be your friend. leave everything behind and continue as if nothing had happened. but the mere idea of ​​thinking that I was never for you what you were for me is enough to make my heart ache.

maybe we live in a world full of superficialities, empty, where everything is momentary pleasures, satisfyingly chaotic, and pleasantly disposable. i never want to fall like this again. i don't want to dream so high again. i don't want to be so naive again.

but i can’t help it when it’s you.

[ ♥︎ ]

“i’m not ready for anything, with anyone…” he sated as tears started rolling down my face. why? why’d you give me a taste of some love you couldn’t give me? or didn’t want to give me…

[ ♥︎ ]

weeks passed, and i started to accept the fact that it was not gonna happen. i started seeing someone else.

maybe you didn’t want to have me, but you definitely didn’t want to lose me…

[ ♥︎ ]

“you coming y/n? we gonna go grab ice cream or sum.” yuuji asked turning back to look at me. i couldn’t tear my gaze away from my phone, but i didn’t fail to notice how megumi looked at me.

“uhmm actually, go ahead without me guys! i’ll hang out with yuta later…” i commented as i blushed lightly. “OOOOOO Y/N’s GOT A DATEEE” yuuji joked.

megumi didn’t say a word until i left.

[ ♥︎ ]

next day, everything changed. that kiss you stole from me… i wish i could have it back.

you told me you were ready, that you wanted this. that you wanted me.

you made fall all over again. but deeper this time. you tricked me into your game once again. i mistook your lies for a future, with sins and sweet promises.

friday. i wanted to confront you about it.

and you tore it all apart. again.

i am so fucking greedy, and i don't want to let something i love die, even though i know i will never have it.

i’d fucking love to be your friend. i’d fucking love to pretend that it doesn't burn my skin to want to hug you and not be able to do so. i’d love not to want to know everything about you.

i wish i didn’t want to be your whole world.

i don't know why you hurt this much. i barely know you, and yet, i can't imagine a life without you. i have never had the courage to face what i truly feel. cause it's too soon, cause it would only complicate everything, or just because you don't want to hear it.

but i love you, megumi.

i wish it wasn’t like that. none of this.

yours truly.

y/n

a/n: i wish i could lie to y’all and say this wasn’t based on a personal experience but haha guess what…

AND SORRY FOR THE ANGST I LITERALLY CANNOT WRITE HAPPY SHIT WTF

LIKES, COMMENTS & REBLOGS are very much appreciated ♪( ´θ｀)ノtysm for reading !! <3

[leclercsluvs]

CL16/DR3 | Already Over | smau

part 9

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8

an: this is going to be the last part, and this is happening about a year after the last part ended. daniel is also now racing for redbull, because i want max and daniel as teammates :) pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader, daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 3.189.461 others yourusername guess who went and performed at coachella? it was such a nice crowd!! absolutely loved it.

danielricciardo fuck racing. i'm going to all your next live performances

yourusername not if i have anything to say >:( maxverstappen1 wow am i really that bad to be in a team with? danielricciardo i didn't want you to find out like this... maxverstappen1 guess i won't let you win the next race then 🤷 danielricciardo you don't have to let me, i will win yourusername hey hey, no fighting under my post maxverstappen1 sorry danielricciardo sorry

charles_leclerc looks beautiful

yoursister *cough cough* you aren't together *cough cough*

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, mickshcumacher and 3.357.816 others yourusername was i invited just to take photos? yeah pretty much.

georgerussell63 and you snapped the best photos ever

yourusername yeah but i'm not on any! might as well not have been there 😔

oscarpiastri you all went out???

yourusername you weren't invited??? landonorris yeah he was he was busy oscarpiastri that was a lie, i wanted you to force me landonorris i can't force you when i thought you had plans 🤨 oscarpiastri yes you can. landonorris fine i'll force you the next time

lewishamilton at least you know how to take nice photos so we don't end up with the most blurry photos of all those cool outfits

yourusername oh you mean my outfit? that's on none of these photos? because i had to take them all? lewishamilton i was, in fact, talking about my outfit. but your outfit was alright

lilymhe wow i would have loved an invite

yourusername alex didnt mention it?? lilymhe no he just said he was going out for a quick dinner with the team and then he'd be back alex_albon well it was supposed to be just the team, and then it turned into an after party with all the drivers and we sort of forgot time yourusername smh i was at the redbull dinner because daniel invited me, and kelly was there with max, why didn't you invte lily??? 🤨 alex_albon i wasn't aware we were allowed to invite more people maxverstappen1 oh i just did it, i didn't know either danielricciardo oh i was told to bring y/n

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussel63 and 3.722.261 others yourusername went on a nice well deserved vacation with some friends. refreshing tagged: yourbff, yourfriend, yoursister

yoursister thanks for finally bringing me on one of your adventures

yourusername always a pleasure to have you there to annoy me ❤️ yourbff i was, in fact, invited as the first person yourfriend LIES i was yourusername i literally invited you all in the group chat what are you talking about??? 😭

landonorris now why was i not invited AGAIN??

yourusername do you not have races to attend? landonorris oh... right oscarpiastri yeah i can't race for two people danielricciardo and i am not racing for mclaren anymore so i can't help landonorris right you ditched me for redbull danielricciardo bitch i was FIRED

charles_leclerc looking beautiful as always

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3.722.261 others scuderiaferrari good weekend with charles on the podium. again next weekend? tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc hoping for the best next weekend, hoping to be back on the top though

y/n/n4ever soooo did anyone else see y/n in the paddock today? i swear she's his lucky charm. whenever she's there he does amazing.

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 3.722.261 others yourusername my man finally got p1 in his home race. so proud of you 🥹 tagged: charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc i thought you said "not too public" 🤨

yourusername well that was before you won and before twitter spotted us charles_leclerc that makes sense

leclercs well this was a hard launch for sure

scfty/n and i'm here for it

lecswrld so so so proud of him!!

georgerussel63 congrats mate!

oscarpiastri 1-2 for the leclerc family

yourusername i'm sorry what-? charles_leclerc sorry i should have talked to you about it.. i adopted a son

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 3.722.261 others charles_leclerc i think i have a good luck charm yourusername we need to go on a date before every race ❤️ tagged: yourusername

yourusername invite me out whenever, i'm ready to say yes

charles_leclerc move in with me? landonorris woaahhhh yourusername maybe a bit too soon.. charles_leclerc hm i tried. i'll try again at some point.

carlossainz55 i thought me being in your team was your good luck charm 😞

charles_leclerc you were my teammate since 2021. would have thought i'd have some more wins if you were my good luck charm carlossainz55 i guess you're right

pierregasly congrats mate!!

landonorris us 🤝 ruining max's win streak

lewishamilton so deserved! proud of you!

-

aaaaaand thats a wrap! honestly thanks to the monaco gp i finally found to motivation to actually write something for this. i can't think of anything else to happen. i hope you enjoyed this. feel free to send any requests or anything. i'm currently working on something involving a few drivers

taglist: @exotic-iris13 @callsignwidow @destinyg237 @lanadelray1989 @dullypully

[marypaol]

Skin To Skin

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of Draco knowing who his soulmate is, yet he can’t bear to face her.

Warnings: Teasing, Boggarts, mention of fears, mention of the Hospital Wing, the Weasley twins being themselves, etc.

Note: This is Part 2 of “Copy Of A Copy”, so check it out before you read this! (And I’m sorry if this one is bad)

Copy Of A Copy

Masterlist

Request Reauirements

This person believed in me so here you go! : @theomalfoy

Draco wasn’t the want-everything-to-go-back-to-the-way-it-was-after-complaining-about-it-type.

Well, that’s what he kept telling himself.

But he knew deep down that he did want everything to go back to the way they were, because every time he looked at his hand, that deep red spot of irritated skin was slowly fading away and he wanted to find a reason to create it again.

She’d stopped drawing. And normally Draco would find that a good thing; now he didn’t have to harshly wipe them off and be left an embarrassing red spot on his hand. But he found himself thinking back on how the drawings actually looked good, despite him being annoyed at the fact they repeatedly showed up on his skin, and he wanted them back. Which, of course, sounds ridiculous if you were to look back on how he acted towards the other drawings that previously showed up on his hand.

But he missed it. Missed watching the lines form one by one, letting him know she existed. He even couldn’t get the image of her face out of his mind, ever since he saw her in Care of Magical Creatures. He couldn’t help but think she was decently pretty.

Draco’s hand has unwanted sweat on it so he harshly wiped it on his robes, a disgusted expression lying on his lips. He knew the reason for the sweat though, his quill once again hovering over his skin, the same skin he used to aggressively rub almost everyday as his soulmate drew mindless doodles on her hand.

He dipped the quill tip in the ink, the noises of everyone scattering about being the last thing on his mind, in fact the occasional “SHH!” from Madam Irma Prince was quite helpful to encourage him to focus once the students followed her orders.

He sighed softly, taking a deep breath while staring stupidly at his pale skin he was about to ruin.

He leaned down, the quill tip making contact with his hand two times, forming two dots. Those were eyes, he decided, and drew a straight line below them, making a face that represented him at the moment. His eyes were full yet his lips held uncertainty, hesitant to do this.

Once it was over it didn’t seem so bad anymore, as long as he could manage to hide it from Crabbe and Goyle. The thought of them teasing him about it, teasing him about actually writing back on his skin was unbearable. He could only hope that they don’t stare at his hand.

“Don’t be scared now, it’s just a Boggart.” Professor Lupin explained, his wand held with two hands, a grip on each end.

“Now, Boggarts like tight dark places, and I found this one in the wardrobe yesterday. I asked Dumbledore if we could use it for the lesson and thankfully he said yes. Now, does anyone know what a Boggart looks like?”

The usual hand of Hermione Granger was shot up at the speed of lightning, and once she was called on, she answered not only the right answer but was awarded points for her House.

“No one knows, sir. It takes form of the deepest fear of whomever it faces.”

“Correct, Ms. Granger.” Lupin said, smiling while Granger went slightly pink.

Draco rolled his eyes, irritation seeming to be boiling within them.

“But, everyone, we have an advantage against this creature. And that is?”

“There’s so many of us, it doesn’t know what to turn into?” Potter answered, and Lupin replied with a smile, and awarded more points to Gryiffindor.

“Exactly!” Lupin exclaimed. “Now, though, there is a way to get past a Boggart. And that spell is Riddikulus!” Lupin said, doing the hand movement with the one that possessed his wand. “Say it with me now…”

“Riddikulus!” The class said together.

“This class is ridiculous.” Draco mutters under his breath, Crabbe nodding in agreement beside him while he heard a snuffled laugh somewhere near. His head swerved and he spotted the same girl he saw in Hagrid’s class, trying not to smirk at his joke. He found a smirk coming to his own lips, proud of himself.

“They feed on fear, so think of what you fear the most, and turn it into something funny.” Lupin once again explained, and brought up Neville as a demonstration. “Now, Neville, tell me, what do you fear the most?”

“P-professor Snape.” the boy mumbled, having to repeat the same thing again but a little louder since the Professor didn’t hear him.

“Ahh.” Lupin said amusingly once the name was repeated. “I suppose he does intimidate us all in some way.”

There was a pause before Lupin continued to project to the class, for he was having a quiet conversation with the student before him. “Now Neville, I want you to think of your Grandmother’s clothes very clearly in your mind, can you do that?”

Neville nodded, shaking in his shoes. The door opened and Snape stepped out, looking normal as ever like you’d see him everyday but Neville was scared.

“Wand at the ready!” Lupin reminded, Neville held his wand up and squeaked, “Riddikulus!”

Snape seemed to spin around and he soon found himself in Neville Longbottom’s Grandmother’s clothes, a red handbag on his right arm.

The class laughed, Neville’s face slowly turned into an expression of relief.

Draco scoffed basically the whole time, not ending up actually facing the Boggart but watching as his peers did.

Weasley was practically having a seizure as he faced the spider, helplessly whimpering the spell causing the spider to have roller skates, legs swinging everywhere.

Draco couldn’t help but be curious on what the girl’s fear was, but she didn’t end up facing it just like him.

There was an exited buzz in the air as the students left class, each of them wanting recognition for how brave they were while facing their biggest fears.

“-did you see how I faced that snake-”

“-just said the spell and it went, pop!-”

“-the spider was huge!-”

“-never seen that kind of creature before-”

Draco grumbled angrily, grabbing Crabbe and Goyle’s arms and leading them out to the courtyard in front of the Black Lake.

“That was stupid. Why did he let us do that anyway, and for Dumbledore to give permission…wait til by father hears of this.” He mumbled, looking down and adjusting his arm bandages, thinking back when he insulted the Hippogriff. (He still didn’t regret it, the creature did look kinda ugly to him.)

“Right. We should owl him right away.” Crabbe suggested.

Draco looked up from his arm, eyes flaring. “‘We?!’ I’ll do it. It’s my father after all.”

His friends nodded, Crabbe going pink in the ears.

Goyle’s eyes then shot to Draco’s hand. “Ha! What’s that, Malfoy?”

Draco acted confused, and looking down, acted like he’d seen it for the first time. He pretended to look disgusted. “Gross I tell you, I’ll wash it off later.” He said, looking back at them. Both pair of eyes were still on him.

“Well? What are you looking at?” He snarled, and that seemed to do the trick, both heads bending down as they suddenly found interest in the grass.

“Do this Potion before you leave class, and then a portion of it on my desk with your name on it.”

Snake’s sharp voice echoed through the dark classroom, his gaze seeming to meet all of their eyes before he turned around, adding one last part of his instructions in the black board and heading to his desk, long nose lurking over the surface covered in parchment.

The girl sighed, opening the book to the page instructed and starting to chop the first ingredient. She liked to think of herself good at Potions, but sometimes little things like the reactants would mix up in her mind. But nonetheless if she focused hard enough and followed each step carefully, than she was proud to say that she could do it almost perfectly.

It was only then that she noticed the black markings on the back of her hand, and, looking more closely by bringing up her hand to her face, saw it was a smiley face. It looked smeared a little and the lines were wobbly, but she liked it since she wasn’t the one to draw it.

Scurrying through her bag pretending she was looking for something important, grabbed a quill and dipped it in another student’s ink when they weren’t looking. Then, turning back to her hand and covering it behind her cauldron so the nosy Professor wouldn’t see, drew two eyes next to his, a soft smile beneath it to show her gratitude. He didn’t do much, just too dots and a line, but the reason was all that mattered to her.

She just knew that he missed her somewhat forms of affection, so he acted upon himself to continue it.

“Ridiculous, I tell you, why’d he look at me like that? The audacity of some peop-”

“Sorry.”

Draco didn’t realize he ran into someone else, too busy rambling to himself about an annoying First Year who glared at him out of nowhere to notice his body ran into another. It ended up being a Third Year Hufflepuff, quickly scurrying around the corner to avoid the Slytherin.

Draco rolled his eyes, turning back to the direction he was going and continuing to walk to the Common Room. He muttered the password, climbing into the space full of couches and chairs, all in front of a burning fire, flames high and bright, full of color.

He sat down on one of the chairs, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle to get back from the Hospital Wing; the Weasley twins caught them in the hallway, convinced them to eat some candy, and now their faces were covered in red dots that got bigger by the second. Malfoy simply rolled his eyes at the news when Madame told him before making his way to the room.

He currently sat with a Potions book in his hands, long fingers running across the pages that helped his eyes read it better.

He turned the page, but the page he turned got caught on his robes, and, using his left hand, went to fix it before he froze. On his left wrist, he had another smile face beside the one he drew, this one with an actual smile this time not a straight line like his.

He fought a grin that was threatening to pull the corners of his lips, reaching over to pull his robe sleeve over it so no one could see.

-Like, reblog, and comment to make me happy!

Person I think would like this: @dunningz :)

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part six

authors note: i'm very sorry in advance for how this ends, it was just getting wayyyy too long, and there was no good place to slice it in half, so i cut it before shit unfolds, so yes please don't hate me!!!

pairing: roman reigns x black!reader

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive dialogue, angst

song inspo: ‘with me’ by destiny’s child

words: 6.5k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wanderingreigns

“Whoa.”

Mariah’s reaction is expected. Your living room, specifically the sofa, is occupied by several of Callie’s dolls. A tea party that you were so kindly invited to attend this morning. 

“Girl, you should see her playroom. Pretty soon the floor is going to be non-visible.” 

A small part of you regrets not trying to straighten up before Mariah came over, but this is also your literal best friend. You know she’s seen more than almost anyone else in your life, and she would never judge you, let alone over the state of your apartment when she has a child of her own. 

Mariah looks over at you with a raised brow. “He did all this?” You nod. “Why?”

“Because she’s his little girl and of course he’s going to spoil her. A quote.” You chuckle as you and Mariah decide to just sit at the kitchen island. It’s probably best to leave the dolls untouched as Callie’s likely to wake up from her nap wanting to play again. 

Mariah gives you a look. “You don’t find that weird?”

Confused, you ask, “what?”

Mariah shrugs and circles the top of her water bottle with her index finger. “I don’t know. He just found out about her, and now he’s buying her stuff? Seems like he’s trying to buy her love.”

“You don’t know Joe.” It’s an easy dismissal, because you do know him and know that’s the last thing on his mind. “That’s not him at all. He just wants to see her happy.”

Mariah looks unfazed and stands ten toes down, adding on, “then he should be here full time instead of randomly popping in.” You just look at her, slightly confused where this is coming from. “I mean, I’m happy she’s getting to know him, but this is all so messy, you know? He’s married. He has a wife, and he’s coming here seeing his secret child with his secret mistress.”

You can only look at her, stunned by her words, even if a small part of you knows there’s some element of truth. Joe swiftly dodged the only question you’ve asked about how and when he’s going to tell his wife about Callie. It was a valid question that deserved an answer.  But the things Mariah is saying, you can’t tell if it angers you because it’s not true or hurts you because it is. 

She seems to detect your conflicted emotions and reaches over with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be negative. I just remember how hard it was for you when you and Joe broke up the first time. I hated seeing you so hurt.”

“We’re not together, Mariah. We’re coparenting.” You hate how soft your voice is, giving away that her words now have your head spinning. 

“So you honestly mean to tell me that you have no feelings for him? None whatsoever.” You can’t give her an answer, or either refuse to. It’s another valid question but the answer isn’t as simple for you to express. You know you feel something for Joe, but that could just be because of the fact that you two share a child together. There has to be some type of emotional connection between any two people who create life. “Exactly. Just be careful. He broke your heart once before. Don’t let him do it again.”

Your feelings are so mixed, agreeing with certain aspects of what’s being said and disagreeing with others. Mariah has triggered some big thoughts, ones that you probably should sort through at some point. You’re just not eager for right now to be that moment.

“Enough about me, what’s been going on with you?”

You pray she knows you well enough to know that you’re desperate to change the subject. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like we haven’t spoken much lately, and I know that’s partially on me. It’s just been a lot on my end, I’m sorry.” 

She shrugs. “It’s cool.”

Something tells you that she’s just saying that, and there’s a level of bitterness towards you for the distance. But, you can’t allow yourself to be hurt by that, because it’s fair. Mariah has been too good of a friend to be ditched the minute your ex comes back around. 

‘How are things with Caleb? Are you guys getting along any better?” Caleb and Mariah have only been married for two years but have already hit a rough patch, enough where he’s temporarily moved out of the house. Last you spoke with her, they were supposed to meet up to discuss what they were going to do, especially for the sake of Miach.

“Did you see him at my place last time you were there?” Her response is all you need to know that that is still a sensitive spot for her as well. Understandably so, but her shut down is so cold and unlike the sweet, gentle friend you’ve always known her to be. You were always known as the outspoken, brutal friend, though it seems that maybe as the years go by, the roles are reversing. 

Unless there's something else at play.

—-------

Today is going to be a good day. 

For Callie at least. 

Your earlier conversation with Mariah, who seemed far too eager to leave when you mentioned Joe would be arriving in less than two hours, is still circulating in your head. You know she’s only trying to look out for you, and you’re very appreciative of that, but there was some undertone to the way she spoke to you that you can’t shake off. Like, it wasn’t coming just from a place of concern, but something else that didn’t seem as genuine.

“Mommy, why are we cleaning?”

Because mommy is too broke for a maid.

You instead settle on the answer, “because we want our home nice and clean, baby.”

“But, it is clean.” She’s not entirely wrong, it’s just every so often you like to deep clean, dusting, mopping, the extra shit that usually isn’t done with daily cleaning. 

Taking a break from wiping down your kitchen counters with some overpriced cleaner you picked up from Target, you see Callie is ready to be done, the dust rag you’d given here now sitting on the coffee table.

With a heavy sigh, you ask, “you wanna play, don’t you?” Her eyes widen and her head nods enthusiastically. A quick glance at the clock indicates that Joe should be knocking at your door any minute, so you try to buy some more time. “Alright, let mommy finish here, and I’ll come play with you.”

“Yay!”

Chuckling, you listen to the sound of her run in the direction of her playroom while you finish scrubbing the counters, even if they’re as clean as they can get. It’s most likely a result of all the overthinking you’ve done the past few hours. The older you get, the more you realize you’ve become that ‘i’m anxious, so let’s clean until we’re physically exhausted’ mom. Which, technically, isn’t a horrible thing, but it’s also probably not the best way to deal with your emotions.

Not that you’ve always been the best with that either.

And that’s when you hear it, the solid two knocks you’ve been waiting for all morning. 

Smiling, you call out for Callie who marches out seconds later with a doll in her hand. “You wanna see who’s at the door for mommy?” Callie looks rightfully confused. At the same time you taught her how to open, close, and lock the door because you never know what can happen, you stressed to her that she is to never open it without permission or unless during an emergency. So, you emphasize, “it’s okay.”

Shrugging, she skips, literally skips to the door. You chuckle. This kid has so much damn personality. Moving to the sink to rinse your hands, you move slowly, waiting for it.

A loud gasp. “Joe!”

You can mentally picture the absolute surprise and happiness splashed over her little face. Grabbing the towel to dry your hands, Joe walks in holding Callie who you haven’t seen look so happy since the last time Joe was in town. 

“Mommy, Joe’s here!” 

Kids announcing the most obvious things will always be hilarious. “He sure is.” Leaning against the counter, you focus on him. “Hey.” He looks good, but he always looks good. That was always the damn problem.

He takes in you for a second, eyes lingering longer than what’s probably necessary, “hey.” He easily returns his attention back to Callie who can’t seem to stop smiling, which makes you smile. You love seeing her so happy. "I missed you."

"I missed you too!" She glances over at you, partially contrite. “Mommy, I’m gonna play with Joe instead, okay?”

You pretend to be shocked, standing upright and crossing your arms and making a face before laughing, waving her off.

“That’s fine, baby, because I am going to take a nap.” It’s much needed. Your sleep has been kinda shitty lately, and you know yourself well enough to know that exhaustion makes you bitchy. And the last thing you want is to unintentionally take that bitchiness out on her. Even Joe. Walking up to them, you poke him in his stomach. Jesus, he’s ripped. “Help yourself to anything. Just make sure she doesn’t destroy my house, please. And make her clean.”

At that, her face sours, and Joe chuckles.

“You got it.”

Satisfied, you walk back into your room, deciding to close the door. Callie will absolutely welcome herself in if need be. Plopping down on the mattress, you stare up at the ceiling, taking in a deep breath, momentarily stopping yourself from closing your eyes. For a second, you forget that Callie is not alone and unattended, thus preventing you from sleeping.

Call it being an anxious, overprotective parent, you’ve never allowed yourself to nap when it’s just the two of you. Even when she’s asleep, and when you do, you set an alarm to wake you up every ten minutes, just to make sure she’s still knocked out. It makes taking time to rest pretty difficult, if not impossible, but it’s what makes you comfortable.

It’s an easy sacrifice to make for your child.

So having another adult around, her dad, of all people, is a nice feeling. You know she’s safe and watched over. And it’s what allows you to actually fall into a peaceful slumber. 

Just for a little bit.

—-------

It is, in fact, just for a little bit.

Because you’re awoken by your phone ringing, your mom on the other end wondering what time she can expect you and Callie to come over.

Shit. 

You completely forget that you’d agreed to bring Callie to see her as it’d been “too long," according to her. You partially agreed, realizing you haven’t visited your mom since the day everything went down, what with you reaching out to Joe again and that whole fiasco.

And that’s another thing.

Your mother has no idea he’s back in the picture.

Walking out of the room, you find them in the living room, of course, watching Toy Story 2. 

Callie’s eyes light up when she sees you, but that doesn’t pull her from her position, tucked right under Joe’s side on your sofa. If you had your phone, you’d try to snap a picture. 

“That wasn’t long,” he snickers, and you glare, stopping yourself from flipping him off.

You move over to the sofa, sitting on the armrest. “That’s cause my mom called and woke me up.”

“Grandma?”

Nodding, you explain to both Callie and Joe. “I forgot we were supposed to go visit her today.”

She moves up on her knees, asking, “can we go?” She looks over at Joe. “Joe can come with us!”

You consider her suggestion. Your mom didn’t even find out about Joe until you told her you were pregnant. You kept that part of your life a secret from her for good reasons. This doesn’t seem like the best way for her to find out, to drop it on her yet again. However, one look at Callie’s desperate expression, and you already know your answer.

“Of course,” you then add on, “if he wants to.” 

Callie, being Callie, answers for him. “He wants to!” She tugs on his sleeve, excitement bubbling. “You can meet my grandma!”

You glance over at him, “are you sure? I’m sorry, I know this was supposed to be one on one with her….”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “If she wants to go, let’s go.”

You nod, praying this doesn’t end up being a bad idea.

—-------

“Mama!” You call out, watching Joe shut and lock the door behind him. Seeing that allows you to focus on where the hell your mother is. She usually meets you at the door when she knows you’re coming over. “Where is this woman?”

The car drive was pleasant enough, Callie talking almost the entire time, as expected. And Joe eating it up the whole time, also, as expected. 

You can see now he’s definitely going to be that dad. The dad who finds anything and everything his kid does to be adorable. You can’t wait for him to be on the receiving end of one of Callie’s temper tantrums and see how he handles it. 

“Grandma!” Callie suddenly calls, all the while keeping her hand in Joe’s. “I’m here!”

Finally, the sound of footsteps from upstairs as your mom comes down the stairs, home phone, yes, a home phone, held between her ear and shoulder. “I told her Bishop wasn’t gonna go for that, but you know how she is. Old fool.” It’s when she’s in the vicinity to see that it’s not just you and Callie, her eyes grow wide. “Cheryl, let me call you back.” 

Damn. 

You know that tone, that ‘let me talk to you’ tone. 

Thankfully, you get a brief save. The sight of your mom makes Callie drop Joe’s hand to sprint off to meet her on the steps. “Grandma!”

She leans down to pick up Callie, smothering her with kisses. “My favorite little lady.” 

Callie giggles as your mom descends from the steps, Callie on her hip, to approach you and Joe who’d, wisely, remained quiet up until this point. 

You watch your mom’s eyes land on him, but before she can say anything, Callie jumps in. 

“Grandma, this is Joe! He’s mommy’s friend and mine too!”

Fuck. Your mom’s eyes travel between him and Callie, once, twice, and on the third time, you know. You just know that she knows.

And that’s when you jump in, knowing you desperately need to speak with her. “Callie, why don’t you show Joe the play area?” 

Her eyes blaze with enthusiasm as your mom places her back on the ground. Callie’s little feet carry her back over to Joe who seems to understand you need to talk with your mother.

“Come on!” Taking his hand, she begins to direct him to the back of the house and through the sliding door. 

Your mom waits until she knows the two of you are alone to speak. “Girl, you done got my blood pressure all up.”

“Mama—”

“That’s Callie’s daddy, ain’t it?” She doesn’t even give you time to answer. “Don’t try to lie, either. She looks just like him.”

There’s no need in denying the obvious. “Yes.”

Her mouth drops open in rightful shock. “And just when did you plan to tell me he was back in the picture?” The questions keep coming, understandably so considering how you’ve just dropped this on her. “And why is she calling him by his first name?”

“Because she doesn't know,” you answer the second question, hating the disappointed look on her face. “We–he hasn’t told her yet.” 

“It just keeps getting worse.” She’s rubbing her temple and you just know she’s gonna need to take an Excedrin before the night is over. “Tell me everything. Now.”

And so, you do, starting with Callie’s initial question about her dad, to your phone call with Joe, his visit where he confirmed he had a daughter, all of it. And when you’re done, your mom is visibly shaken.

“Lord, he found out about her through social media?” You still feel badly about that, about a lot of it. “Well….does his wife know?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so. We haven’t really talked about that yet.” Before your mom can protest, you add, “we will. I’ll make sure of it. He just wants to get to know her first. For himself.”

Your mom chuckles, obviously having studied the close interaction between the two of them in the few minutes she’s been privy to see them engage with one another. “seems like that’s already a done deal.” 

“Yeah,” you smile warmly. “He’s really good with her.”

And it’s the truth, Joe seems to be naturally good with a lot of things, but there’s something so impressive about his ability to interact and connect with Callie. It’s so natural. 

“So, are you two…..”

“No,” you shut that down immediately. “We’re just trying to navigate coparenting.”

Your mom nods but doesn’t say anything, and you know her well enough to know it’s because she doesn’t entirely believe you. But, she won’t push.

“Well.” She claps her hands together, nodding to the backdoor. “Let me go properly introduce myself, since you got me out here looking rude. Probably got that boy thinking I don’t like him.”

“I promise, he’s not like that.” You two start walking toward the backyard where you’re certain Callie is talking a hole in his head, describing the play area your mom put together just for her when she spends the night.

She places her hand on the sliding door but pauses to look at you, “let me just say this though, that is one fine young man. I see now why you had a hard time letting him go. The devil sure knows how to tempt people.”

“Mama!” You try to suppress your laughter as the two of you walk out, sure enough to find Callie on the swing, Joe pushing her as they share their own conversation. 

She walks up to him, wearing a warm smile, giving a wink to Callie. “I’m so sorry about that. My daughter just didn’t tell me you were gonna be here.” 

Joe, forever respectful, starts to indirectly apologize.  “I hope it's not a problem. If so, I can—”

She waves him off, “oh, hush.” She leans in to whisper, “you’re practically family.” He returns her smile as she introduces herself by name, he offers his, and your wonderful mother then informs, “well, this one is gonna help me tend to my garden, cause winter will be here before we know it.” She leans down and kisses the top of Callie’s head, as she’s stopped swinging and is instead sitting. Her eyes light up at the idea of gardening with your mom. The same way you used to garden with your grandma. A bit of a tradition being passed down. “And in the meantime, you two can go finish organizing the office.” 

Your eyes widen. No wonder she didn’t hear you all coming in right away. That room, once your bedroom, became your mom’s storage area and over the years has accumulated stuff on top of stuff. Nowhere near a hoarding level, but just a lot of things that she doesn’t want to part with but needs to organize. “Mama, that's not—”

“I don't want to hear no complaining. You really want me up on that ladder?” You roll your eyes, realizing she’s referring to the top of your old closet where she keeps the storage bins of memorabilia, mostly photos. “I'm not getting any younger. What if I fall? Then you gon feel bad.”

“You're so dramatic.” Your mom acts like she's 75 and at death's door sometimes. The woman is 52 and teaches a Zumba class at the rec center every Saturday. She could fall and jump right back up like nothing happened. 

She places her hand on Joe’s arm, smiling slyly. “You got this strong, handsome man to help you out.” One thing you’ve learned as you’ve gotten older is that your tendency to unintentionally flirt from time to time 100% came from your mother. Clearly. “Besides, if you do fall, you'll be fine. You got enough booty back there to cushion it.”

“Mama!” One glance at Joe, and you see him make a face that reads clearly 'she's not entirely wrong.’ At that, you shove him, not that it does anything. He's solid as a rock. “Fine, we'll organize your mess, but not for long. Joe is only in town until tomorrow night, and he did not come here to be a part of your cleaning crew.”

“I don’t mind,” Joe adds. Of course, he doesn't. He hasn’t seen it yet, and he’s a gentleman. “Whatever you need help with, I’ll do it.”

Your mom gives you another look and then looks at him. “I like you, Joseph.”

Callie lifts her head, adding, “I like him too!”

I like him too.

“Well, get to it. When we’re done, ya’ll can help me fix some dinner.” Her eyes then land on you. “Well, not you. You can make the lemonade or something.”

Joe coughs awkwardly, poorly hiding his laughter. “I’m getting really sick of ya’ll coming for me and my poor cooking skills.”' 

Your mom directs Callie to grab her caddy with their needed gardening supplies. “Baby, you are a lot of things, but a cook ain’t one of them.” She points at Joe, sharing, “remind me to tell you the story about how she almost burned down my house.”

“Okay, we’re gonna go now.” You grab Joe’s hand and lead him back into the house toward the stairs, which he motions for you to go up first, realizing after the fact that he probably did so to stare at your ass. 

This man….

Entering your former bedroom, you stretch your arm to show you just what you signed up for. He walks in, clearly surprised. “Okay.”

“Yup.” There’s items scattered all over, your mom clearly in the middle of trying to categorize the millions of family photos ya’ll have. “Still don’t mind?”

He shrugs forever unbothered. “There’s two of us. We’ll get it done.”

Sucking your teeth, you look around, trying to figure out where the hell to start. “Your optimism is annoying.”

Chuckling, his smartass remarks, “Glass half full, baby. Glass half full.”

“Yeah, yeah, well glass your ass over there and reach me the ladder. I need the box these pictures can go in from the top.” 

He follows where you’re pointing but also gestures to the closet. “That one?” Joe makes a sound and instead of following your directions, casually walks over to said closet, reaches up and grabs the box with all the ease of someone who’s 6’3. 

Smug expression on his face, he hands it to you as you glare. “Show off.”

Joe assesses you, eyes settling on your chest before redirecting them to your face. “Maybe I should have let you get up there. View and all.”

Holding back your smile is difficult, so you settle for biting on your bottom lip and bumping his side as you move past him. “Shut up.” You know his gaze is on you and that should bother you, his flirty comment should bother you, but it doesn’t.

It doesn’t at all.

—-------

“I still can’t believe you were a cheerleader.” 

There’s probably been a decent combination of conversation and organization in your time working together to ‘unmess’ your mom’s mess. That’s not entirely surprising though. Joe has always been immensely easy to talk to, to be around. And you couldn’t deny that you missed this kind of interaction with him, the most and maybe first since he’s re-entered your life. You wholly understand why he spends and devotes most of his time with Callie, but there’s a small part of you that’s missed this. 

Missed it being just the two of you. 

Chuckling, you comment, “you’re not the first. I was….different in high school and college than I am now.”

He’s intrigued, asking, “how?”

“Well, for one, I don’t party damn near every night anymore.” One thing you could never deny about your early days was that you always liked to have a good time, liked to make your expected appearances at whatever party of the week, or day, was happening. “Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t drink or smoke. That was never my thing. I just….I liked to have fun, probably too much fun more often than not.” You chuckle to yourself, grabbing a stack of photos to put in the container. “Now, I like to be in bed by 9:30, 10 at the latest.”

He smiles and looks over at the wall that still has many of your cheer accolades proudly displayed. “Obviously, you were pretty damn good.”

Shrugging, you push some of your hair behind your ear. Not that it does much. Your curls have always been voluminous and wild. “I was, but….it came at a cost to some extent. Cheer is insanely competitive, and I didn’t always handle that the best.”

Competitiveness was something you deeply struggled with when you were younger. Feeling like you had to be the best, not even better than anyone else per se, but the best that you could be. Always trying to prove that you were good enough.

Looking back now, you have a solid guess of where that came from and what drove it. 

Joe’s studying you, trying to gauge your comfort level with this conversation. “Did you like it?”

“I loved it,” you answer, honestly. “Until I didn’t. Shortly before college, I think, is when the love started to fade.”

“But you cheered in college too, didn’t you?”

You nod, explaining, “I got a scholarship for cheer, and I wasn’t about to put that stress on my mom to have her help me figure out how to pay for school when I had an easy ride.” Around that time is when your relationship with your mom started to strengthen, and the last thing you wanted to do was risk messing it back up by being selfish. You’d cheered damn near your whole life, what was another 4 years? 

“I like your mom,” he announces, almost suddenly. It’s unsurprising. Most people do. But, there is something that pleases you about her tentative approval of him and now his of her. 

“She’s really great. I don’t know what I would do without her, and Callie adores her.” You look over at him, playfully. “Not as much as she adores you, though.”

You can see the delight in his eyes. “Yeah?”

His disbelief surprises you. How can he not see how crazy Callie is over him? “Are you kidding me? That lil girl already doesn’t shut up, but she really doesn’t shut up about you. It’s Joe this, Joe that. The first thing she asks me when I pick her up from school is always if she can call you.” Deciding this is a perfect segue, you add on, carefully. “You know….you should tell her. I can promise you, she won’t be upset. She’s gonna be thrilled.”

She already loves you.

You don’t know if it’s too soon to say that, if it’s something you should even say vs let him hear from Callie herself. You just know that there’s probably very little he could do at this point to make Callie not love him. She’s hooked.

“Christmas,” he announces, adding, “I’ll tell her when I come back for Christmas.” 

This surprises you, as he hasn’t discussed his next visit up until this point. You also don’t feel the need to comment or counter his plan and timeline to tell Callie. You can’t think of a better Christmas gift for her. “You got the time off?”

He nods, providing specifics. “I’ll be here the day before Christmas Eve. Gotta fly back out on the 26th though.”

“Stay with us.” Where this comes from, you’re not sure, but there’s not a lot of regret once it's released. “I know you hate that damn hotel, and Callie would be thrilled to have you around 24/7.” Getting up off the floor, you carry the now filled container and move up the ladder you’d used a couple times because he’d been preoccupied organizing other areas. Sliding it back in the same spot, you descend down the steps only to feel strong hands grip your waist. 

Bringing you to the ground, he carefully turns you around, but that’s not what you’re focused on. What you’re focused on is how close he is to you, your chests nearly touching, his eyes burning into you. Instantly, your stomach is knotting. You know that look, know it all too well. 

“Joe….” Your voice is soft, much softer than it needs to be when trying to assert yourself. And you hate yourself for the tiny sigh that leaves your mouth when he brings his palm to your cheek. “We—we can’t—”

“I’m divorced.”

This man, so fine and kind, and damn near pressed against you is distracting, so much so that you’re briefly disconnected from what he’s just said. But, it’s forcing yourself to come back to reality that his words truly hit you. You’re not sure you could have ever guessed that statement would ever leave his mouth. 

Slightly in shock, staring at him with bewilderment, you stammer, “w–what?”

“Two months ago, Jadah and I filed for divorce. It was uncontested, and the state of Florida is one of the quickest when it comes to processing these things.” His other hand moves to your hip, holding you still, as if he knows you want to move away from him. “I got notice it was finalized a few days ago.”

You’re listening, you really are, but hearing is another story. This has to be some type of sick joke, some type of cruel prank ripped directly out the pages of a journal kept and maintained so long ago. Cause you’d absolutely written about this at one point, written about what it would be like if he were to leave his wife. 

You just never could have anticipated it would one day become a reality.

“I—I don’t understand.” Joe only found out about Callie less than a month ago, so there’s no way she was the reason for the split. Still, you have to ask. “Wh–why?”

Something flashes in his eyes. Hurt. “It was long overdue.” He doesn’t say anything beyond that, and while you expected more, you can also see there’s more to the story. More that he’s not saying, but it’s the brief glimpse of pain that prevents you from pushing. Whatever it is, it’s clearly difficult for him to discuss. 

“Oh.” It’s a stupid thing to say, but you’re truly in a state of shock and don’t know what else to say. 

The biggest and only issue that ever existed between yourself and Joe has always been his marriage, the fact that he was already taken. It was the only reason you ever broke it off with him, but now, he’s standing before you, telling you that this is no longer the case.

You’re all of the emotions: confused, nervous, happy, hopeful, and so many more that you can’t even label.

“I didn’t say anything at first, because meeting Callie was my priority. Establishing a relationship with her was a priority. And it still is, but…..” Your eyes shut as he drops his head in the crook of your neck. “I’ve missed you.” Your hands gradually lift to lay against his chest as he sighs into you, ‘I’ve missed everything about you.” Eyes remaining shut, your nails claw gently against him as he moves his mouth over your neck. “The way you smile, the way you laugh.” His hand on your back slowly inches downward. “The way you taste.” Your breath catches as his teeth graze your collarbone. “The way you feel when I’m inside you.”

“Joe,” you breathe, the air suddenly thick, your throat tight. Breathing is incredibly arduous in this moment. “I—”

“Mommy! Joe!”

Joe’s suddenly across the damn room, it seems like, as Callie enters at both the perfect and worst time with a smile, completely oblivious to what she’s just interrupted. “Grandma said come eat!”

Frowning, you glance at the clock and realize it’s most definitely dinner time and that your mom had most likely just had Callie help her prepare the meal instead of asking you two to help.

Huh.

She moves across the room, tackling Joe from the side and craning up her head as she excitedly asks, “Wanna see what I made? Grandma helped me!”

Leaning down to pick her up, he answers, “of course, I wanna see.” He begins to walk out the door as Callie calls out for you to follow behind.

And you will. 

You just need a moment.

Because what the hell just happened?

—-------

I’m divorced.

It keeps playing in your head, on a vicious repeating cycle, like that annoying song the radio plays every 15 minutes, forcing it down your throat.

For almost the entire time you were together, you infrequently allowed yourself to dream about what your life would be like if the circumstances were different, if he wasn’t already taken. If he wasn’t already married. And each time only left you feeling worse than before, because it was stupid. You were three years deep into the situationship; if he hadn’t left his wife by then, he wasn’t leaving her period.

It was a harsh pill that took you forever to swallow.

And even then, you knew that you could never be happy. Not with the knowledge that he’d left his wife for you. It may be bliss initially, but the guilt would have eaten you up and ruined things regardless.

So accepting and telling yourself that it would never work out long-term was what kept your head above water, especially in the two months after you broke things off. And once you learned you were pregnant with Callie, there was a new kind of stress, a new kind of distraction.

Not that it made you forget about him. Hardly.

Every check up, every milestone, every kick, your mind would wander to him. Wander to a fantasy world where you imagined he was with you every step of the way, the two of you preparing together for the arrival of your first child.

Even as the years went on and Callie got older, you still would find yourself from time to time imagining how different things would be if he was around.

Well, now he is. He’s not only around, but he’s going to be actively involved in Callie’s life for the rest of her life.

And he’s now single.

All of this makes for one fucked up emotional rollercoaster ride.

Dinner is an experience, only for you, maybe Joe to some extent. He’s always had a tendency to compartmentalize emotions though, unlike yourself. Granted, if it was a struggle for him, he did a damn good job not showing it. It also probably helped a ton that Callie talked a hole in his and your mom’s head.

You knew your mom could see something was up with you but graciously opted to not ask you any questions. You wouldn’t have any answers to give her anyway. 

And you indicated as much when you were back at your apartment, and Callie in her room gathering her favorite pajamas for bed. 

“I just need time to think.” 

It’s all you can offer him, because it’s the truth. There’s so much more to consider than you could have imagined, and it’s really hard to contemplate when you still have Mariah’s voice oscillating in the back of your mind, your insecurities, and even your mom. 

So many differing perspectives, it’s hard to focus and hear your own.

Thankfully, he accepts that answer, and you accept that you’re running out of different ways to escape confronting your own emotions. 

Maybe.

Because this day has already been exceedingly long, and you’re more emotionally exhausted than anything. So when Callie comes to you complaining of a tummy ache, you administer her Children’s Tylenol, lay with her until she falls asleep, and take advantage of this rare opportunity to turn your brain off and just rest.

The hard shit could wait.

—-------

“Mommy!”

There's a certain tone every person has that's reserved for emergencies, saved for moments when something is wrong. Very, very wrong.

This is one of those moments.

You nearly trip with how quickly you jump out the bed and sprint down the hall to Callie’s room. Hitting the light switch, your stomach drops when you see her.

On her side, in a fetal position, crying profusely. 

Rushing over to her, you see too that she's pale and a hand to her forehead reveals she's burning up. Sheer panic climbs up your body, settling into your stomach and the back of your throat. Still, you do your best to not show her your fear.

“Baby, is it your tummy?” You take a hand to feel her stomach, but she screams out in pain, making you jump from her reaction.

“Mommy, it hurts,” she sobs, and you're instantly moving the blankets off her, already knowing what you need to do. 

Hand on her forehead, you assure, “I’lll be right back, okay?”

You rush back into your room, sliding on the first pair of shoes that you come across. You grab your phone off the nightstand and throw it in your purse, all in under a minute, still too long. And as soon as you're back in her room, you waste no time in lifting her into your arms. 

She winces, so you reassure, “come on, baby. It's okay, you're gonna be okay.”

It's what you're telling yourself, the only thing keeping you from panicking. Unsure and uncaring at this moment if you lock the front door behind you, you carry her down the steps and into the dark of night, carefully but quickly buckling her into her carseat.

Hating to see her continue to cry, to be in pain, you kiss her forehead, “I’m gonna get you some help, okay? We're going to the hospital.”

She can only nod, and your eyes water. Your forever talkative child is rendered speechless by her pain. It crushes you.

Hopping into the driver's seat, you grab your phone, trembling fingers locating the address of the hospital. You hit share and send it to Joe before pressing the call button and tossing your phone into the passenger seat to zoom out of the parking lot.

Your phone is connected to your vehicle, ringing three times before he picks up, voice heavy with sleep. “Hey.”

“I need you to meet me at the hospital. I already sent you the address.” You do your best to remain calm and collected, to not scare Callie more than she's already scared. Even if you’re fucking terrified. “Something is wrong with Calista.”

[withleeknow]

Hello! I really love your stories. Could I be the 🥐 anon? A little reference to my country 😆. Anyway, I wanted to ask for a story for the milestone event, with Han jisung and the prompt : "so...can we go eat".

Thank you so much and have an amazing day!

of sleepy promises and indigo skies.

note: welcome to the household 🥐 <3 i hope you enjoy your stay here and this drabble as well. hehehee. this is a short one but i enjoyed writing it ♡

main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi

jisung is in the middle of counting your eyelashes when his stomach growls, sounding like a nightmare monster against the backdrop of peaceful silence in your shared bedroom.

he winces internally because it's loud enough that you stir awake, making your eyes blink confusedly at your surroundings. it was still light out when you fell asleep earlier, but now the sun is almost gone, leaving behind an indigo sky in its wake that you can see from your window.

your voice is groggy when you ask, "what time is it?"

"seven fifteen? seven thirty?" he tells you uncertainly, before reaching for his phone on the bedside table to confirm his answer. "yeah, seven thirty."

"why didn't you wake me?"

in all honesty, jisung did want to wake you. you had plans to go to dinner together - try out the new fried chicken place that opened two weeks ago, that's what you'd promised him. what was supposed to be a half an hour nap turned into two hours because he didn't have the heart to disturb you, despite the way his stomach was protesting for some food to satiate its hunger.

ultimately, he settled on watching you sleep, smiling to himself every time your lips parted as you lightly snored.

"you looked too cute while you were sleeping." jisung brushes his fingers over your hair while you clasp a hand over your mouth to cover a yawn, before stretching your limbs to wring out the day's fatigue.

"corny," you comment, though you do try to shuffle closer to him, a smile tugging at your lips when he takes you into his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"you love it when i'm corny."

"unfortunately, i do."

"unfortunately?" he repeats, an edge of playful disbelief coloring his voice. "what is that supposed to mean?"

"it means you can be such a cheeseball sometimes, but you're my cheeseball and i kinda love you. i guess."

jisung gasps, like he's so offended by your words. the sound is quickly followed by a lighthearted laugh, the vibration of which you can feel where your chests are pressed together. he's endeared by you, incredibly so. maybe it's the way you said it with a sleepy look in your eyes that almost make them seem dreamy. maybe it's the way you relax completely in his arms like he's the safest place you know. or maybe, it's just the simple fact that you called him yours and that you (kinda) love him.

his warm lips find their way to theirs, meeting you in a soft kiss that has you both smiling like idiots afterward.

though, of course, the nightmare monster in his stomach just has to make another appearance and ruin the moment.

he locks onto your teasing gaze with a sheepish look of his own.

"so... can we go eat?"

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 29.05.2024]

[nalyra-dreaming]

I was a bit confused when dreamstat said “let me tell you about 18th century armand” because why would louis be thinking that? I doubt at this point louis knows anything about armand’s history, especially not his history with lestat. any ideas about this? also him saying “that’s debatable” when louis said he had it coming, does louis not fully believe lestat deserved to die? I find dreamstat a fascinating look into louis’ psyche but sometimes he confuses me lol

It is one of the reveals of Merrick that it was Claudia who wanted to kill Lestat - and she used Louis to do it.

So, no, Louis did not want to kill Lestat. That was part of the tale. And his own "inner Lestat" going "debatable" reflects that quite clearly.

Also... Lestat did talk to Louis about a few things. They shared blood, too, at least in the beginning. And the blood carries knowledge.

Louis did know a few things. He knew about Nicki. He knew about the fact that Lestat did not like talking about the old times. So there had been a few conversations. Lestat did talk about some things, we know he talked about acquaintances, and events.

Nonetheless, Lestat leaning in like that and going "let me tell you about 18th century Armand" is a reflection of Louis' doubt there. "Dreamstat" is a manifestation of Louis' guilt and doubts and it is a channeling of those feelings into what Louis thinks Lestat would say at any given point.

Which is why the upcoming "how can you stand it" when Armand tells Louis he loves him is so brutal, too.

Why Lestat calling Louis a "whore" is so vicious.

Why Lestat telling Louis he is still the only one he trusts is so tragic.

Because that is LOUIS visualizing his innermost thoughts. And reading himself for filth at the same time.

[liightsout]

guilty as sin? - daniel ricciardo x reader

(part two)

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

✯ pairing: daniel ricciardo x reader ✯

✯ word count: 5.5k ✯

✯ content warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, abusive/unhealthy relationship, thoughts of cheating, sexual themes, toxic parental relationship ✯

✯ now playing: guilty as sin? - taylor swift ✯

✯ masterlist ✯

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“I’m seeing visions, am I bad, or mad or wise?” 

For weeks after that night in Monaco you couldn’t shake Daniel Ricciardo from your mind, no matter how hard you had tried. You felt as though your every thought had been occupied by him. The way his skin felt against yours. The way his voice sounded when he said your name. The way his eyes lit up when he heard you laugh. You were obsessed. 

You felt exactly as you had all those years ago; yearning for a man you could not have. 

You had hoped that Evan’s attitude towards you might improve after his run in with Danny. It hadn’t, if anything, it had made him worse. He had interrogated you the entire car ride back to the hotel from the villa. It hadn’t taken him long at all to work out who Danny was. You imagined one of his friends must have told him after he’d gone storming back into the villa. 

He didn’t believe that you knew a famous Formula 1 driver. He had gotten shitty with you when you pointed out that you had told him that you knew some of the drivers through your friend Rosie. He rolled his eyes at that. He had always hated Rosie. She was too brash, too loud for his liking. You had thought that it was just that they were too different. It was easy to see now that he just preferred women to be quiet. 

You found yourself comparing everything he did to how you imagined Danny would if he were in the same situation. 

How would Danny have reacted if the tables were turned, if he was the one to find you conversing with a handsome stranger instead of waiting patiently for him to come find you. 

You quickly concluded that you would never have been in that situation with Danny. He never would have left you alone in a house of people you barely knew to go and drink with his friends.

You weren’t sure if comparing Evan to Danny was a wise decision, but you found it impossible to stop. 

“I keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault” 

You kept these thoughts to yourself, not that you had anyone to share them with anymore. Evan had quickly extradited you from all your friends early on in your relationship. Perhaps that was why you found such solace in your daydreams. 

Although, even if you did have someone to confide in, what would you say? How would you explain that you were longing for a man that wasn’t your boyfriend. That a man you had met a handful of times was occupying your every waking thought. 

It was best that those thoughts stay hidden away. 

“Someone told me, ‘there’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk” 

For what felt like the hundredth weekend in a row, Evan had gone away with his friends, leaving you home alone. Usually you didn’t mind all that much. The time away from Evan had felt like respite recently. But tonight you had felt the urge for something more. You didn’t want to be sitting at home alone on a Saturday night, drinking wine and watching reruns of Grey’s Anatomy. 

You wanted a taste of your old life back. 

It felt scandalous leaving your apartment late at night to go to a bar. A hilarious thought when you considered the fact that you were an adult in your twenties and that realistically you could do whatever you wanted. The fact that Evan would be beyond annoyed at you if he ever found out where you were made the whole thing even more enticing. 

You found yourself in a dingy dive bar in the city, one that you used to frequent before you had started dating Evan. As you looked around at the sticky floor and walls covered in vintage tour posters you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. Evan would hate it here. 

You should have known all your old friends would be there. It was a warm summer's evening, the perfect weather for a drink in the beer garden out the back of the bar. It had been a tradition amongst your group for years. 

Rosie was the first one to see you. You had thought that she would ignore you. Not because she was unkind, you just couldn’t imagine that she would have any reason to want to talk with you. You had all but disappeared from her life two years ago. Swept up in a whirlwind romance that felt more important than your friends. 

How wrong you were; about both the relationship, and Rosie. 

The minute you felt her arms wrap around you in a welcoming embrace, you felt a wave of emotions rush over you. 

Danny had said she had missed you, you just hadn’t believed him. 

The pair of you spent the next few hours catching up. She told you all about her new job and the fancy new apartment she was renting. She showed you pictures of her brother and his new wife. They were expecting their first child and she was ecstatic about finally becoming the cool aunt, a stereotype that you knew would fit her perfectly. 

You had missed so much of her life. She had done so much in the few years you’d not spoken. You felt embarrassed by how little you had to share with her. Your life revolved around Evan and work. It wasn’t the life you had imagined for yourself, not in the slightest. 

You didn’t need to tell Rosie how bad things were with Evan, she just knew. Girls were like that, you had found. They possess an inherent intuition to be able to read their friends and know exactly what’s wrong without a single word needing to pass their lips. No matter how much time has passed. 

It was Rosie who brought up Danny first. He had told her all about what had happened in Monaco. You weren’t sure what else he had told her, but after nearly a bottle of white wine you couldn’t stop the words from tumbling from your lips. They had been pent up for years now, itching to break free. 

You told her everything. Starting with that night two years ago; you told her how badly you had wanted for more to happen, but didn’t want to cross any lines. 

You told her how you had waited for him to reach out to you, but that phone call had never come. The years you had spent thinking he was “the one who got away”. 

Ending with that night in Monaco when you had collided into each other. A cruel twist of fate sent to mock you for ever thinking Evan was the right man for you. 

“I just feel so bad for feeling this way about Danny… I know Evan’s not the greatest, but he doesn’t deserve this, surely?” you said to the girl sitting in front of you. 

The guilt was eating you alive. You’d always considered yourself an honest person. Fantasising about a man that wasn’t your boyfriend felt wrong. But if it was wrong, why did it feel so right?

“I need you to listen to me right now,” Rosie said as she grabbed your hand that was resting on the table. You looked up and met her eyes. 

“Evan, is an asshole. He has kept you locked away in that penthouse for too long now, and you have lost sight of who you are and what you want. I’m not saying that Danny is the love of your life, but if he is your way out of this prison cell you’re locked in, fucking go for it!” 

You were at a loss for words. Rosie was a good friend of Danny’s. She would know if these feelings you had were one sided. Surely she wouldn’t encourage you if she thought you’d end up heart broken chasing an impossible dream. 

“Babe, all I’m saying is, don’t beat yourself up for imagining a better life for yourself. There’s no such thing as bad thoughts, only your actions talk.” 

“These fatal fantasies, giving way to laboured breath, taking all of me. We’ve already done it in my head” 

You could feel his hands against your skin. His fingertips were setting your body alight wherever they touched. You wanted more, needed more. 

A fire was starting within you that you hadn’t felt in years. 

His rough facial hair scratched against the delicate skin of your neck as he left soft kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. The softness of the kisses was a stark comparison to the sinful thoughts swirling round in your brain. 

“Good girl” he whispered to you as he pushed your thighs further apart. The praise sounded like liquid gold pouring from his lips. The teasing glint in his eye matched the smirk on his lips. It was a look you’d not seen on him before. 

 You knew you’d do anything he asked if it meant you got to see him like this again. 

The fantasy was pulled from you before your mind could wonder any further.

The sound of your morning alarm woke you from the most beautiful dreamland you’d ever experienced. 

You’d never had a dream like that before. Should you feel ashamed of yourself? Normal people didn’t fantasise about men that weren’t their boyfriends in their dreams. 

You did not feel ashamed, not in the slightest. 

You could never feel ashamed for feeling any kind of way about Danny. 

“If it’s make believe, why does it feel like a vow we’ll both uphold somehow?” 

It had been a regular occurrence that you would find yourself dreaming of Danny; both when you were awake and now when you were asleep. 

He was your escape. 

You dreamt of your life together. You imagined weekends at the ranch in Australia. You’d tend to the animals together. Then he would venture off to ride quad bikes around the land, messing about with his closest friends and family. 

You’d sit by the pool, soaking up the beautiful Australian sun, happy to watch him thriving in the company of his loved ones. 

You both had dreams of a big family, marriage and kids would be a no brainer. If how he was with his niece and nephew was anything to go by, you just knew he would be the most incredible father. 

He would treat you the way you deserved to be treated; looked after and cared for. No apology gifts would be necessary, only regular bouquets of flowers he would buy for you “just because”. 

He’d hold your hand when you were nervous and ground you when you were anxious. You would laugh more than you had in your entire life, and every day would be a happy one. 

You didn’t know if Danny felt the same way about you. The realistic part of your brain told you that he didn’t. But you couldn’t help but feel that fate had brought the two of you together time and time again. 

Maybe he was the one who got away. But what if maybe, just maybe, he was the one. 

“What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh only in my mind?” 

Evan was mad. More than mad, he was pissed. 

You had told him a few weeks ago that you had rekindled your friendship with Rosie. You had made up a story about how you had bumped into each other at the supermarket, not wanting to explain how you’d taken yourself out alone to a bar on a Saturday night. 

He had believed your story, but couldn’t believe why you would want to be friends with a girl like Rosie. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from telling him that Rosie couldn’t comprehend why on earth you’d want to be with a guy like him. 

Rosie had called you earlier in the day and invited you to her house for a BBQ, she hosted them often during the summer and it was definitely something you had missed. She hadn’t explicitly said that Evan wasn’t invited. She didn’t need to, you knew she didn’t want him in her house. It didn’t matter, you didn’t want him there either. 

“But babe, I wanted to spend the night with you, I made plans for us, I booked a table at your favourite restaurant and everything,” Evan pleaded with you. You almost felt bad. Maybe this was his attempt at making more of an effort with you. Maybe seeing you with Danny had made him a little more appreciative of what he had. Maybe. 

“I’m sorry, Rosie invited me earlier and I said yes. I didn’t know you’d made plans or I wouldn’t have agreed to go. I can’t cancel now, it would be rude,” you said as you grabbed your bag from the hook by the front door. 

“I’ll be back tonight, it won’t be super late, Rosie has a flight in the morning so she wants everyone out by 10PM” you said as a parting farewell. 

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was pissed off. The scoff followed by the swear words muttered under his breath were enough of a tell tale sign. 

“Whatever, I’m going out with the guys so I won’t be able to pick you up,” he said as he stormed out of sight. 

You flinched as you heard the bedroom door slam shut. You knew he was trying to make you feel bad for going out. He wanted you to put down your bag and go running after him. He wanted you on your hands and knees apologising for upsetting him and promising you’d do anything to make it up to him. 

It was an easy decision. Without so much of a second thought, you were out the door and on your way to Rosie’s. 

The second you had arrived at her house you knew you’d made the right choice. You were welcomed with open arms by all your old friends. It was like you hadn’t been missing from their lives for the better part of two years. You fell back into the motions easier than you had expected. The several glasses of wine had helped. 

The night had been fairly overwhelming in that respect. As much as you had missed the company of friends, it had been a while since you had been social around this many people for this amount of time. 

It was later in the evening and everyone had decided to move inside to get away from the cool chill in the air. You had opted to stay outside for a little longer than everyone else, needing a moment alone to decompress. 

“We have got to stop meeting like this,” you heard whispered into your ear. His voice sent shivers down your spine. His deep, alluring drawl was as sweet as honey. 

As you slowly turned, your eyes were met with the very same ones that had been haunting your dreams for weeks. 

“I’m just glad I didn’t spill my wine all over myself this time,” you said, earning a laugh from him in response. 

Daniel Ricciardo’s laugh was one you would recognise anywhere and you never wanted to forget exactly how it sounded. 

“I hope you didn’t get into too much trouble with Eric,” the Aussie said with a chuckle. Despite the laugh you could tell his concern was sincere by the way his hand reached out for yours, just as he had done that night in Monaco. 

Your hands didn’t touch this time. Before he got too close, he pulled away. You wished that he hadn’t. You longed for his skin against yours, even if it was the most innocent of touches. 

“It’s Evan, and he was fine. He gets that way when he’s had a drink. Nothing I can’t handle. He’s all bark and no bite,” you replied with a smile. 

You didn’t want him to worry. Evan wasn’t abusive, not physically at least. You could handle his mean words and shitty comments. It hurt when it first started, but by now you were used to it. It was easy to block out once you realised there was a part of you that didn’t care what he thought of you. 

Danny didn’t reply to that, just looked at you in a way you hadn’t anticipated. His face was a mixture of annoyed and confused. 

He was the joker of the group, the one everyone looked to for a laugh. Yet here he was, lost for words and looking like he was about to get in his car, drive to the other side of London and punch your boyfriend in the face. 

It was kind of hot. 

The pair of you stayed outside for about an hour after that, catching up even more than you had done a few weeks prior. You hadn’t had a chance to speak to Danny about his career last time, but you were keen to catch up with him about everything that had happened over the last few years. 

When you’d seen him all those years ago he had just left Renault for Mclaren. You remembered that he was nervous of the change and scared about what it would mean for his career. You didn’t know him well at the time, but you told him you were proud of him for making such a bold change and regardless of what happened. 

Two years later he was no longer with Mclaren. You weren’t a huge F1 fan but you’d kept track of Danny’s career. You had seen all the drama unfold and were disgusted at the way Mclaren had treated him. He deserved better. You were glad he was back in the Red Bull family. He seemed happier, more at peace with himself. 

You were forced inside to join the rest of the group by Rosie. She had stomped into the garden declaring the pair of you must join in the drinking games that were going on inside. Danny had reminded her that he wasn’t drinking as he had to be up in the morning for an early flight. The same flight that she was getting on, he had added with a smirk as he watched her down another shot of tequila. 

You didn’t hesitate when Danny offered you a lift home. He had asked you how you had planned on getting home as the pair of you had walked out of Rosie’s house and onto the dark street. He’d been outraged when you told him you were planning on walking to the station down the road and getting the tube back home. 

“Is Evan not picking you up? Or made sure you at least got a taxi home?” he had asked you. He had that look on his face again. You hated that he was annoyed, but you couldn’t help but feel so incredibly lucky that he cared enough to even be annoyed about your neglectful boyfriend. 

You hated feeling embarrassed about your relationship. You were surprised that it had been the hardest part about reconnecting with your old friends. 

It was easy to handle the disappointment you felt about Evan’s behaviour when you were the only one who knew about it. Having your friends look at you with sad looks on their faces and offer you reassuring smiles when you told them something else Evan had done wrong was hard to take. You knew they all thought you were a fool for staying with him as long as you had, they were just too kind to say it. 

“He wasn’t too happy about me coming here tonight, plus he’s gone out with his friends I think… it’s not the end of the world, he’ll be over it by tomorrow,” you said, forcing a smile to your face. You weren’t sure why you were making excuses for him. Old habits die hard. 

“Get in the car, I’m taking you home,” Danny said with a stern look on his face. You weren’t going to argue with him. You would much prefer a lift home as opposed to getting public transport, it was safer and way less hassle. 

Plus you really weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to spend a little extra time in the presence of the man who made your heart beat a little faster. 

The first couple minutes of the car journey was filled with absolute silence. You focused hard to try and maintain your breathing. The air in the car was stuffy waiting for the air conditioning to fully kick in. Your palms felt sweaty, dripping with anticipation. You weren’t sure why being around Danny had that effect on you. You were on edge, waiting for something to happen. 

The rational side of your brain reminded you that it never would. Danny wouldn’t make a move on you, not while you were still with Evan. You wouldn’t want to put him in that position either, it wouldn’t be fair. 

The rest of the ride was filled with you directing Danny to your address. Each road that took you closer to home, the closer you felt to exploding. You wanted to scream. You wanted to tell Danny exactly how you felt; to tell him all the thoughts you had bubbling up inside of you that you desperately needed to share with him. You wanted to know if he felt the same. If he thought these things about you too. 

As you gave the final direction you knew the opportunity was drifting further and further away from you. Danny pulled up alongside your apartment building and cut the engine to the car. 

He angled his body so that he was now facing you. Your brain willed you to turn and look at him, but your bones felt heavy, like they were made of lead. 

You hadn’t noticed him moving beside you, too wrapped up in your own thoughts. Danny’s hand gripping your thigh sent you hurtling down from the anxiety spiral you found yourself in. 

You turned your head slowly, your eyes meeting his for the first time since you had gotten into the passenger seat of his car. 

Danny didn’t move his hand like you had thought he might. If anything it felt as though his grip had tightened as your eyes locked with his. A mental connection between you made the physical one stronger. 

“The second you break up with that fuck head, call me.” 

Danny’s voice was deep and full of something that you’d never heard before. Not from him, not from anyone. Was it lust, anger, want, need? 

His eyes were dark and wild. The usual bright expression was wiped from his face and replaced with one that was much more intense. 

No one had ever looked at you the way he had; like you were the finest trophy he had ever been denied. 

It felt as though his grip on your thigh had remained. Even as you exited the car and made the ascent up the steps towards your apartment, you could still feel his vice like grip on your skin.

You went about your usual routine once you had gotten yourself inside the apartment. 

You lay in bed that night and waited for the sounds of your boyfriend arriving home, it never came. 

The feeling of Danny’s hand on your thigh remained, like a phantom touch. You could feel the rough pads of his fingers against you. It felt as though he had traced the word mine into the delicate flesh and it would remain there for the rest of your life.

“One slip and falling back into a hedge maze, oh what a way to die” 

Your nights were filled with anxious dreaming. The words Danny had spoken to you in the car echoed round in your mind. He had confirmed it. He wanted you too. 

There was an amount of you that considered whether you had imagined what he had said. Had you simply gone mad and hallucinated the whole interaction? 

You hadn’t. You knew that even in your wildest imagination you could never have invented the way his touch made you feel. 

“I keep recalling things we never did, messy top lip kiss, how I long for our tryst” 

You’d been distant from Evan for the past few days. You’d thought he wouldn’t notice, he never had before. But this time he had. Somewhere between the run in with Danny and the rekindling of your friendship with Rosie, he had become suspicious. 

“Are you cheating on me?” Evan’s voice rang out around the apartment. He hadn’t shouted it at you, but compared to the deafening silence that had been suffocating the pair of you, it felt like he had. Maybe it was the gravity of the words that had made them seem louder. 

You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up from your stomach and past your lips. You regretted it as soon as it happened. 

“I don’t know what part of this is funny?” he said with a viscous look on his face. You’d never seen him so enraged. His face was twisted with anger, his skin flushed. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not laughing because it’s funny… it’s just, how on earth could you possibly think that I’m cheating on you? I don’t have a life Evan. I don’t have anyone to cheat on you with. My life revolves around you and when you deem me worthy of your attention. I should be asking you if you’re cheating on me, no?” you said with a shaky breath. 

You couldn’t recall the rest of the conversation. Harsh comments and vile accusations had been thrown at you like daggers. You didn’t have the energy to fight back. No matter what you said he wouldn’t believe you. The argument had ended with him slamming the bedroom door and telling you to sleep on the sofa. 

As you lay there you couldn’t help but be angry.

You were Angry at Evan for treating you the way he did. If he thought so little of you, thought you were so beneath him, why didn’t he just end it? 

You were angry at yourself for staying with him. You clearly weren’t happy. You hadn’t been for months. Your relationship had been on a downward spiral for some time and you had done nothing about it. 

You were angry that, despite Evan’s allegation against you being factually incorrect, it did have a base of truth to it. No, you had not cheated on him. But you had been fantasising about a man that wasn’t him. You had been longing for someone that wasn’t him. 

You were angry at the whole mess you found yourself in. 

Evan believed you had been cheating on him. If that was true, he was a hypocrite. You knew he had cheated on you multiple times. Lipstick stains on shirt collars and late night texts from numbers not saved in his contacts told you as much. 

You were angry that you had shown him a courtesy that he had not shown you. It would have been so easy for you and Danny to have crossed a line and ventured into the realms of ‘more than friends’, but you never had. 

Your mind wandered to your escape, the place you found yourself more often than not these days. 

A messy top lip kiss. Wandering hands. Nails dragging against skin. Stifled sighs. 

A tryst that you longed for. 

“My bed sheets are ablaze, I’ve screamed his name. Building up like waves, crashing over my grave” 

A firm hand gripped your shoulder as you were shaken away from your slumber. Your eyes squinted open as they adjusted to the light that was now pouring through the windows. 

You had slept on the sofa last night, after the fight with Evan. 

Evan. He was looking at you with a face of thunder. You thought that he would have calmed down by now. You were clearly wrong. 

“Are you fucking kidding me? Danny? Daniel fucking Ricciardo? That’s who you’re cheating on me with?” he spat at you. 

“Well done babe, I didn’t think you had it in you, a Formula 1 driver,” Evan said, every word dripped with venom as he mockingly clapped his hands. 

You didn’t have a chance to ask him what he was talking about before he continued. 

“You know, all my friends told me you were a gold digger when we got together, but I chose not to believe them. You didn’t strike me as someone chasing after money and fame, yet here you are, sleeping around with whatever man has the biggest paycheck. The jokes on you, he’s  washed and I’ll always be richer than him” he shouted as he walked away from you. He picked his keys up from the kitchen island with such force you were sure they had left a scratch against the marble. 

“Evan, I don’t understand-” he cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. 

“Here’s a tip, if you’re going to have dirty fucking dreams about your secret love affair, try not to moan his name while your boyfriend is in the room next to you.” 

You couldn’t argue back. He wasn’t wrong. 

“What if I roll the stone away? They’re gonna crucify me anyway. What if the way you hold me, is actually what’s holy? If long suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don’t know how you’ve haunted me so stunningly” 

A phone call with your mother was not what you needed right now. Evan hadn’t come back since he’d confronted you that morning. 

You’d spent the rest of the day anxiously pacing around the house. You’d cleaned every surface, tidied every shelf. You were about to hoover for the second time when your phone rang. You’d expected it to be Evan and had not checked the caller ID. You were caught off guard by the shrill tone of your mother’s voice on the other end of the line. 

You had a tense relationship with your parents. Your mother had never approved of much you had done in your life. The only choice you’d made that she had ever praised you for was your relationship with Evan. You knew she’d have more than a few things to say about the situation you found yourself in currently. 

“Darling, I got the strangest call today from Evan’s mother. She told me that you’ve been cheating on Evan. Tell me that’s not true dear.” 

Typical. Evan had gone crying to his mum, who had decided it was appropriate to air your dirty laundry with yours. 

“No mum, of course not. It’s a misunderstanding. He didn’t even give me a chance to explain myself,” you replied, unsure of how much you should disclose to her. 

“Just apologise. You cannot afford to lose him. He’s the best thing that’s happened to you. Don’t throw it all away now,” your mother said, the same tone in her voice as she did when you were a teenager. You had never argued with her back then, but you had done a lot of things recently you hadn’t done before. 

“It’s over mum. When Evan gets back I’m going to tell him that we’re done. I can’t be with him anymore. We don’t have a healthy relationship, it’s not fair on either of us. I don’t expect you to understand, but I hope you can respect what I’m saying.” 

“You’re right, I don’t understand. Why on earth would toss away a two year relationship with the a perfect man, all for a washed up athlete from Australia. Think of what people will say? Your name will be tarnished! I can’t even begin to think what your father is going to say about all of this, you’ll send him to an early grave!” her voice was like nails against a chalkboard. Each sentence rose an octave.  

You’d never hung up on your mother before, but you’d done a lot of things recently you hadn’t done before. 

“I choose you and me, religiously” 

It didn’t take as long as you thought it would to pack up your belongings. You truly had been living like a guest in Evan’s life. You wondered if he ever really wanted you there in the first place.

The gravity of the choice you were making weighed heavy on your shoulders. 

You knew you were throwing a lot away. 

A two year relationship with a wealthy man, who had a stable income and whose family name carried a lot of weight in certain circles. 

Your parents had already expressed that they would be disappointed in you for leaving him, your relationship with them would be even rockier than it was before. 

You had nowhere to live, no place to call your home and lay your head at night. 

Despite all that, you knew you’d pick Danny every time. 

You picked up your phone and scrolled through your contacts until you landed on his name. You didn’t think much about what you were going to say to him, just pressed the dial button and listened to it ring. 

You took a sharp inhale of breath as you heard his voice on the other end of the line. 

“Hey pretty girl.” 

“Without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?” 

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

✯ authors note: IT'S DONE! i am so sorry this took me so longer than i thought it would. i found out last week i am moving on wednesday and i only just started my new job, so my life has been VERY hectic!

i hope this is ok and you guys enjoy it, it took a lot out of me mentally. some difficult topics are mentioned and i hope i did them justice.

happy race day also!!! i had a good old cry earlier on watching charles win monaco, so so happy for him!

fresh out the slammer is next, not sure when it will be up, i think i'm gonna get some updates done for the blue first.

love you all and thank you again for all your support ✯

[wonton4rang]

She's got a boyfriend anyways ¡!

pairing: taesan x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, cheating, cursing, unprotected sex (do better 🙏), and i think that's about it.

summary: where your boyfriend is part of a band where taesan is, the boy always making you look twice until you couldn't hold it any longer the moment y'all got alone.

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

you always had a thing for band boys, they looked so hot when they were singing their lungs out or playing some instrument or even writing lyrics and letting some sighs out of frustration when they couldn't get that rhyme.

so it wasn't a surprise that your boyfriend was in a band, taking you to practice every Friday afternoon before going out at night. they were five in the band, your boyfriend included, but somehow only four of them went out every Friday night. so that day you got curious about the fifth boy.

"baby, aren't you coming with us?" your boyfriend said while he packed his battery drumsticks in their case, setting it aside and taking his bag to put it over his shoulder.

"i think i'm gonna pass today" you replied, your eyes following the fifth boy's back when he left the garage and went into the house. "i don't feel so good"

"are you sick? do you want me to stay with you?" you just denied with your head and a smile, getting an approving nod from your boyfriend. "if you feel bad, taesan is inside, tell him to call me"

and with that, he left. all of them did. except for taesan who was upstairs. but you already knew that, though.

you've been seeing him for months now, always feeling his gaze in your back but getting nothing but radio silence when you turned around. you could even swear he stares at you when you kiss your boyfriend.

but again, you couldn't confirm anything.

that until today, you hoped so. you went into the house all the boys shared and took a trip upstairs, trying to be as quiet as possible when you finally reached the second floor, looking for taesan's door and finding it when you saw the nirvana poster on it.

you knocked once and didn't get an answer, knocked a second time and your fist was knocking on air when the door was opened to show the boy you were looking for. he looked confused as to why you were there, and why were you knocking on his door.

"hey" you softly said, biting your bottom lip when he just lifted an eyebrow. "i stayed behind today and thought we could be each other's company"

"why?"

"do you mind if i come in?"

taesan wasn't the most talkative or kind person to say the least, so he just moved out the way for you to enter his room beford closing the door behind you two. you whispered a quick "thank you" and he just went to his desk, right beside his bed, and kept writing what it seemed to be lyrics to a song when you got closer.

"this is why you stay behind every Friday?" he immediately closed the notebook and looked up at you.

"that and the fact that i don't like bars"

"why not?"

"they are too noisy and people are just crazy out there" he was honest, and you appreciated that. a quick gaze was provided to you before he said "you can sit down there if you want to"

his head signalled his bed before he stood up and went to his music player, putting on a song you didn't recognize but it was good, some good guitar and drums going on that had you nodding your head to the beat while sitting on his bed.

"you don't talk much, do you?" he laughed and you just couldn't help it but laugh too. "i'm being serious! sometimes i think that you are looking at me and want to talk to you but then i notice you were not"

"i was" taesan lets out and you just slowly stopped laughing to face him. "i am looking at you sometimes"

"you know that's kinda creepy, right?" he just shrugged. "why don't you just talk to me?"

"you are always with him, how could i get close to you?"

"well, he's not here now" was all you answered and you could feel your cheeks burning up when he just stared into your eyes for a few seconds, slowly getting closer and sitting besides you on his bed. "you can talk to me now that he's not here"

"i never said i wanted to talk to you"

and he was right, he never said he only wanted to talk to you. but he understood soon enough that he could do more than that in the moment your right hand went to his thigh, squeezing the flesh under his jeans a little bit while your eyes met his.

"and what do you want to do with me?"

bad question, wrong timing, unfortunate moment. but taesan didn't care how bad of an idea this was when his lips finally crashed against yours. a feeling that he was craving for months finally being a reality.

his hand grabbed your face and his lips moved fast, his tongue immediately trying to enter your mouth and you allowing him. firstly, you thought on pulling out but when he towered you and layed you down on his bed, the thought slipped out your mind like that little moan out your lips that allowed him to explore your mouth.

he placed himself in between your legs and you felt the friction right away due to the fact that you were wearing jeans too and the way he started grinding down made you see stars.

"t-taesan, wait" you stopped him from kissing your lips but he went for your neck, his hands grabbing your thighs and his hips pressing down on you with the perfect strength to make you mewl. "are you going to-"

"would you let me?" was all he replied when he finally left your neck, his lips looking bruised and his cheeks flushed, his black hair making him look very pale yet cute when he asked again "would you let me fuck you?"

"i- i want you to" it was true, every Friday for the last three months you were thinking about him, about his pretty eyes, the way his voice sounded when he sang and the way his fingers played that guitar like it was nothing. you needed him.

"but?"

"i need you to fuck me with your fingers first, please"

taesan's cock twitched inside his jeans at the petition and he just nodded after kissing your lips briefly.

he helped you out of your pants and dropped them somewhere in his bedroom's floor, your panties were next and you could already feel the thrill when his eyes glued to your pussy. it was already glistening because you've been thinking about him this whole afternoon.

how would his fingers feel rubbing your clit, how would they feel inside of your soaked cunt while he fucked them in and out of you, how would he sound when you rode the shit out of him, those were all the things you occupied your mind with today. and you felt kinda guilty about your boyfriend but there wasn't much you could do about it.

if it kept going on like this it would eventually happen anyways.

so when taesan's finger finally brushed against your pussy you twitched, biting your bottom lip and looking for his eyes to beg him to touch you properly. he understood right away because he finally ghosted your entrance, making circles there before quietly asking for your permission to go in.

at first it was just one finger, his middle one, he entered it until his knuckle hit your cunt, removing it slowly so he could thrust it in this time, the wet sound making him leak some pre-cum in his underwear. but it was not until he added a second finger that you opened up your eyes with a satisfied moan, arching your back a little bit when you felt the stretch, you held his wrist and tried to control the pace but he was much stronger than you were so it was useless.

you were with your legs open, taesan on your side while one of his hands fucked you and the other one held your face so he could kiss you. the only problem in that equation was the moment he stopped just fucking his fingers into you and instead starting to curl them up inside your pussy, making you jump when he hit that bulge of nerves.

the way he laughed at you just make you hornier. his pace speeding up after his lips left yours and he just looked at you, looking for anything that signaled him to stop but only finding more reasons to keep doing his best and try to make you come.

"can i eat you out?" he would whisper, not really in his right mind when all he could hear were your pleadings for him to go faster. "please, y/n"

you just nodded as you could, knowing that even if you didn't show restraint or a negative response he wouldn't move an inch without you giving him the permission to do so.

so as soon as he saw the green light he went down on you, immediately wrapping his lips around your sensitive clit while he kept twitching his fingers inside of you.

"taesan, wait" you moaned as you could, trying to stop him before coming undone in his mouth, you didn't want to come like that, not so fast at least. "i'm going to c-cum, stop"

he didn't listen, and you knew you were fucked up (literally) when you tried to close your thighs, wrapping them around the boy's head before he opened your legs again with his free hand. giving you a look of disapproval before making his way up your chest with his free hand, reaching for your mouth and entering his thumb to play with your tongue.

everything was so hot that you couldn't help but humping his face a little bit before coming in his tongue, feeling him thrusting the wet muscle inside your soaked hole before he gave a last long lick and went back to stand on his knees in his own bed.

"that was amazing" you mouthered while you saw him unbuckle his pants. "you did so good"

"if you keep saying those things i won't be able to hold back"

"i don't want you to" was all you answered, your fingers playing with your pussy while you looked at him taking pants off with a confused look. "i want you to be rough, let it all out in me"

"y/n, i-"

"i can take it, please"

"i don't doubt it but are you sure? i don't want to hurt you"

"just do it"

and to be honest he was praying for you to allow him to fuck you up. he was so needy and he was actually surprised that he didn't cum in his pants during the whole eating you out thing.

so when his pants finally fell on his bedroom's floor, he shyly smiled, palming his erection through the fabric of his underwear and backing up a little bit when you tried to touch him too.

"don't" he just said, lowering his underwear and revealing his swollen dick, already dripping pre-cum, making him blush when your eyes got fixed in his cock. "i wanna cum while i fuck you"

and who were you to deny him? so you just opened your legs a little bit more, inviting him to finally mess you up. but he stopped, his eyes looking for something he obviously didn't find when he clicked his tongue and passed a hand through his hair.

"i don't have any condoms, do you?" you nodded and tried looking around too just to remember you left your backpack downstairs.

"it's on my bag, downstairs" your voice went out in a whisper but taesan didn't care, trying to leave his bed to look for them. that until you got up and stopped his moves. "can't we just do it like this?"

"i don't think that's-"

"i really need you, please, i can't wait any longer"

taesan was pretty, smart, he did not have any compulsive thoughts, he was nice and lovely, but he was a man at the end of the day. so he just gave in this time, laying you back in his bed while he kissed you softly and aligned his dick in your entrance.

he pushed a little and weakly moaned at the wet feeling of your slippery cunt, his head going in and stretching you out in a way that made your hips move a little bit, causing him to slip deeper into your cunt.

"fuck, it feels so nice" his hands went to the back of your thighs and he pushed them to fold you a little bit, allowing his dick to go futher inside of you before he trailed it out again. "god, you are so wet and warm"

"do it faster, tae, c'mon"

your hands went up to cup his face when he got closer to yours, kissing his lips almost immediately when he gave you a harsh thrust, followed by another, and a third one.

holy shit.

your pussy felt so sensitive because of your previous orgasm that you felt ashamed about how horny he was making you feel all over again, his thrusts were rough, rougher that you expected, and the way he angled your legs made him fuck you in the right place over and over.

he was driving you crazy.

the way your tongues met and the nasty sound of your soaked cunt and your saliva mixing filled the room alongside the long forgotten music in the background just made your skin get goosebumps. taesan was so hot, so pretty yet so strong and rough that it just made you tremble in his embrace.

his hips went down enough to brush against your clit and you found yourself stopping the kiss to go down his neck instead, holding for dear life to the hair in his nape and tangling your legs around his waist when he placed his arms around your head, looking straight into your eyes while he fucked you senseless.

"i'm gonna cum soon" he warned you when his thrusts became sloppy and his voice became more whiny. everything seemed so personal with his eyes staring deep into yours while he chased his high, bringing you a second one without noticing when he started sweetly moaning your name. you clenched around his cock and he could just press his eyes shut close. "god, y/n, stop doing that"

"you feel so good, pretty, so hard" he wasn't the strongest soldier out there and you knew that, you noticed how he reacted to pet names and compliments before, his cheeks flushing and his lips trembling before he lowered his head. "i can't stop doing that when you make me feel so good"

"i need to cum, oh my god, i'm gonna cum" was the only thing he said when he tried to pull out but your legs didn't let him, your arms pulling him closer to you so you could brush his lips with yours. "y/n, stop, let me o-out"

"please cum inside, i want you to" his dark eyes got watery for a second because he was holding back so bad, his hips still rooting into your abused cunt, mixing his pre-cum leak with your cum like a mad man, you could feel his shoulders tense and his dick twitch inside your throbbing and sensitive pussy. "that's it, so good, tae"

"fuck" he muttered, his eyes falling shut when he finally came inside of you, giving one last deep thrust that made you twitch and let out a high pitched moan right against his lips. "you good?"

"better than ever"

his lips crashed against yours for a while, his arms practically hugging the frame of your head, his weight in top of you while his tongue pushed through, his dick still inside of your pussy while it went soft, making you throbb a little when he pulled out with a soft moan.

"let's clean up" was his first suggestion. "that was amazing, y/n, thank you. for everything"

"always. you know we could-"

"i don't think that's okay, though" he knew what you were going to say. but as much as he liked you, he wanted to think that he still had some conscience left. "i can't be fucking my friend's girlfriend, you know how he'll feel if he ever found out?"

"he doesn't have to"

again. taesan was a man. and as much as he liked his friend, he liked you better. his friend won't make him cum, and if he did, that'd be weird as fuck.

"you promise?" he asked, he did like you but that didn't mean that he wanted to lose his friend or be the friend who fucked their friend's girl.

"i do"

and you could just know that every Friday night you were not going to the bar like before, telling your boyfriend you were on this diet and couldn't drink alcohol. he still tried to take you with the excuse of buying you alcohol free drinks but you denied, explaining how bad you'll feel seeing the alcohol and not being able to drink it.

explaining how this diet was soooo important for you.

yeah, sure. bet.

cause taesan was waiting for you every friday in his room, you guys kissing, fucking and even singing together to some old the carpenters songs he loved, introducing you to some bands you never heard of before.

you guys got along pretty well. and so did him and your ignorant and neglecting boyfriend, laughing and hugging the man that's fucking his girl every Friday night.

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

[teehee-vibes]

Guys, I think Grizzly hid lore in Dark Puckered Hole.

NOW JUST- JUST HEAR ME OUT. (Mieru, look away).

I’m not just talking about the potential purity culture of the Undersea being exposed through Finn’s self exploration… I’m talking RAFT lore.

In Chapter 69, “Behind Bars,” of Dark Puckered Hole, Finn Tidestrider is imprisoned “somewhere in the eastern sea” with another triton, who is on the brink of death. They fall in love and bang before the anonymous convict passes in Finn’s arms, but that’s not what I’m focusing on. Im focusing on the presence of another triton, an injured one, in the Oversea, especially the Sakura Ocean.

Historically in Mana, Finn Tidestrider was one of, if not, THE FIRST to leave the Undersea behind. A decade or so-so later, in modern day Riptide, there have been practically no other triton. Gillion, who was banished, and Edyn, who left to find and avenge him, are the only ones. Even more so, the only other Undersea characters are found in the Undersea (Unnamed NPCs in The Tank OR Felipe, a grung, being from Liquidus) or having left it behind for personal reasons a la Edyn (Caspian, a water genasi). When the Tidestrider siblings go around Allport, they have to wear cloaks to avoid standing out. There aren’t even other triton in Liquidus!

So how, why, is there another triton in the oversea? Finn himself is shocked by his presence. “In this prison, to find another man from the Undersea… my mind raced with questions.” He doesn’t dwell on this weirdness because his questions are drowned out by the sound of his blood beneath his skin, rushing downward, BUT it’s very bizarre, no?

Another detail: Why was the other triton on the verge of death? Of course, inadequate care, but could he have been thrown back into the cell like that? Whoever imprisoned them did not care about their lives. They could live, or they could die.

To go further, isn’t it kind of weird how Finn Tidestrider doesn’t specify where his imprisonment is? He is a very detailed author. He could have said one of the villages in Onawa Country or anything else to feed more detail into his writing, but he didn’t. I feel like the reason he wouldn’t be specific is because he himself was unsure exactly of where he was. He was taken in secret, likely kept out of sight while being arrested and transported to his cell.

I also have to wonder… who imprisoned them? I think you know what I’m getting at. I think RAFT did. RAFT has the resources. RAFT has the political sway. RAFT has governmental power. And it’s worsened by the fact that this imprisonment occurred in the Eastern Sea, the site of the Promised Bastion, where triton are imprisoned, tortured, skinned, and experimented on…

Judging by the fact that Finn refers to the other triton’s you-know-what as “a lighthouse to guide this lost sailor home,” Finn was likely a part of the Black Rose Pirates at the time. He couldn’t hide his presence in the Oversea as a crewmate for a pirate lord, let alone Captain Rose. Finn was on wanted posters, Finn was in newspaper headlines, Finn was a published author. I think RAFT had its eyes on him, but when they arrested or kidnapped him, it wasn’t for crimes of piracy… at least not on the surface.

I think this experimentation on Undersea people and gods has been going on for a long time, and Dark Puckered Hole could be evidence of this fact. Finn was intended to be a source of skin, of blood, and of magic for RAFT’s experimentation in the artificial leviathan and black ops projects. His lover was too, maybe already was (I say maybe because Finn doesn’t allude to the idea that he was physically ripped apart… that would have been unignorable). Finn probably only made it out because he’s that strong (in episode 82, when Drey is talking to and comforting Jay, he said Finn was terrifying when angry or passionate) or his crew came to his rescue.

I think political and military purposes against the pirates weren’t the only reasons RAFT wanted to ally with the Undersea. “Joining forces” with them led either to less suspicion as they funneled triton out of the ocean and to the recently abandoned Promised Bastion, or coming to dominate them allowed RAFT to simply take triton without enough pushback. Either way, without their Champion to rise against them (the one triton on the hooks accused Gillion of abandoning them), they’ve been taken en masse. And maybe Edyn’s collaboration with the navy permitted her some of this knowledge, and that’s how she knew to hide Gillion from prying eyes in navy territory.

Uhhh tldr: It’s weird that there’s an injured triton in the Eastern Oversea. I think DPH could imply that Finn and his lover were imprisoned by RAFT as test subjects for the artificial leviathan and black ops projects, proving the longevity of Fay Ferin’s plans.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

omgg i loveee your patrick zweig x reader fics, could please write a bit more about patrick zweig x pregnant reader or patrick with his newborn baby (i have a soft spot for that lol)

So when Y/N first found out she was pregnant she was scared and nervous. Patrick was still a pro tennis player and they barely talked about kids. So when Y/N saw that the pregnancy test was positive she didn’t know how to react. Patrick was practicing so it would be awhile before he got back. A few hours later he returned to find Y/N sitting at the kitchen table with something in her hand. “Hey baby.” He greeted. She gave him a soft smile, “Hey.” Her body was tense and she had every emotion. “Can you come sit?” She asked him. He looked confused but sat across from her as she stared at whatever was in her hand. “What’s wrong?” He asked. She sighed and sat the pregnancy test on the table for him to see. She slid it over to him. He picked it up and gasped. “You’re Pregnant?” He asked and she nodded. He stood up and ran over to her and picked her up. “This is amazing!” He said and twirled her around. She laughed and he set her down. They were almost face to face but the height difference made that impossible. “You’re having my baby!” He said with a smile. “I know it’s amazing.” She said, happy that he reacted that way.

Patrick was pretty overprotective over her as the days went on. He didn’t want Y/N to lift a finger. So anytime he was there she wouldn’t. Even if she had to shower he’d offer to help. “Patrick you just wanna see me naked.” “Well duh but I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He said. When the raging hormones hit he took it all. From Y/N yelling at him to crying and obviously to wanted to jump his bones. That was his favorite obviously. He loved having sex and the fact Y/N wanted it more than him? That was awesome. “This is the most we’ve had sex.” He breathed out as he collapsed next to her. “Are you complaining?” She asked, he shook his head. “Hell no.” Even the crazy cravings that she got. “I’m sorry you want Pickles and popcorn but together? So the pickle juice with popcorn?” She nodded. He looked at her weird but got it for her anyways. He loved her so much and the little baby growing inside of her.

When the time came Patrick freaked out as Y/N yelled in pain. He called Art to figure it out and help since he had a kid of his own. “Take her to the hospital you dumbass!” He yelled at the man. So he grabbed what was needed and took Y/N to the hospital. The car ride was awful. She kept screaming at him to drive faster. “Babe I’m going as fast as I can.” When the arrived Y/N was took to a room immediately and Patrick watched as his wife screamed as the contractions hit. He took a hold of her hand as she got ready to push. “You got this baby!” He said as she pushed. “You did this to me you asshole! You put this baby in me! We are never having sex again!” She yelled at him. He hoped that wasn’t true. Once the baby was out the crying could be heard. “It’s a girl.” The doctor said. They looked at each other and smiled. “A little tennis star.” Patrick said. The doctor handed the baby to Y/N and she awed. She was so tiny in her arms and looked so cute. Patrick stared at the scene in front of him never wanting to forget it. “Do you want to hold her?” Y/N asked him. He nodded as the tears started forming. He took the baby out of his wife’s arms and cooed at the little baby. “You look just like your mom.” He said and Y/N scoffed. “Patrick she doesn’t look like either of us yet. Well maybe your big nose.” “Hey you like my big nose especially when you sit on it.” He said and Y/N hit him. “No talk like that in front of the baby. “ She growled. He apologized but smirked at her. “Babe we have a little us in my arms.” He said and she smiled. “Yeah we do.”

Patrick wouldn’t shut up about his newborn. Art was happy that Patrick had a baby now but the man really couldn’t stop talking about her. “Art she’s so cute and has my nose!” “I know you’ve told me 8 times already!” Safe to say that Patrick loves her a lot.

[parasolyaa]

give me rtc character hcs for being in the subway for the first time

i love how this implies that they’ve never been in the subway before. well, since most of them almost never left uranium, this checks.

ocean — she always advocated for public transportation (and for some reason believed it wasn’t widely used, probably because she assumed everyone could use a car and subway was for noble people who cared for the environment), but if she ever went to a big city, she never stayed there for long, and usually walked by foot. when she actually used the subway for the first time, she decided to hand out flyers that said something like “thank you for choosing public transit! here are some other ways you can help the planet (…)”. ended up absolutely overwhelmed and in a taxi, wiping tears with the flyers no-one seemed to like. wonder why.

noel — romanticized the shit out of paris metropolitan, said he researched all about it and prided himself on being more knowledgeable of it than a local. when he got to go to france (probs a family/school trip when he was a teen) he bought an overpriced graphic t-shirt with the metropolitan map and confidently entered the underground. immediately got disappointed it wasn’t all gothic catacombs, and accidentally sat on a wrong train. had to take off his t-shirt and figure out where he was, and after two hours of being chest naked in the french underground and hopping from one wrong train to another even wronger train a kind passer-by pointed out that the print on his tee was of marseille, not paris. he spent an extra hour figuring out the correct map and asking for directions in broken french (the locals despised him). he entirely missed the drag show he waited for, and ever since then grew to hate the french underground.

mischa — is in on a ukrainian inside joke about metro in odesa. successfuly convinced all choir that there’s metro in odesa. there is no metro in odesa.

there’s also a ukrainian book called toreadors from vasyukivka, where two boys want to build a metro in their village, so they dig a big hole in their yard and a cow accidentally falls into it. safe to say their idea doesn’t stick. at some point these boys get to kyiv and immediately get lost in metro there. that’s 100% mischa. he did this i was the cow.

also he always finds ways not to pay for his ride: jumps over the tourniquet’s, crawls under them, squeezes in with a person in front of him etc. sometimes gets extremely bored and hides in a train wagon when it reaches the final stop, and stays in it when it goes to depo.

ricky — his parents drove him everywhere by car, and told the tales about toronto subway being inaccessible, dangerous and full of freaks. he never believed them. at some point (maybe in a trip with the choir) he got to travel by subway himslef. it was, in fact, a bit of an unpleasant experience, but he found out that it sucks on his own terms and was lowkey proud.

also he was listening to some cringefail furry music (i do not know if furry music is a thing but it will be now) and realised his earphones disconnected and he was blasting it to everyone only after he got home.

penny — had a secret hiding spot in toronto subway where she could keep her things and return to see them intact. she and ezra hid there often and spied on people, sometimes picking up what fell out of their purses — like pieces of candy or pennies (get it? penny? pennies? penis?). they never stayed there for long tho cause it was too overwhelmingly loud.

one time she went to that place and realised some construction workers occupied it. she was emotionally devastated.

constance — always saves the seat for the elderly, disabled and other people who might need it, and people always thank her plenty when she does so. actually never ever sat on a train seat unless the wagon was mostly empty. however, one times she had a horribly tiring + devastating + bad day and decided to sit down for once. got called 10 slurs by an old guy who didn’t see there was another free seat and ocean then told her she should have thought about others first. when she got home she wrote an angry vent in her musical diary (yk, the ones that open with a password and then play a one direction song or smth) with a fluffy pen.

+ talia — she is a subway rat. has a love/hate relationship with obolon station. has beef with pochayna station. she herself is from solomyanka region of kyiv where there is no subway. considers it her curse.

thank you folks for reading this, feel free to send me asks for headcanons!

[derww]

i want to say few words about the players.

their history is full of failures and difficulties, it was never easy for them, but they continued to adapt to new conditions over and over again and look for other ways to achieve their goal. they've jspent an insane amount of time on all of this, and it's impressive.

having started somewhere there, after abyss arc, having lost their way and direction, they found their identity and what they were ready to fight for. neither external nor internal problems ever left them, but they still finished this race together.

the motivation of the players is the torch, which they lit for each other. their whole arc was an arc of struggle – not only for achieving their goal, but also for simple survival, when even they themselves did not believe in success, when they lost the key components of what they were, they still continued to move forward no matter what, and eventually got their good ending.

the very fact how they got this ending, literally crawling out of the chunkban, perfectly embodies everything they are in their own way. no matter how difficult the situation is, they kept going forward because they don't have the right to give up.

i was really glad to see everyone so motivated. i was glad to see bacon with them despite his early ban, i was glad to see zam rooting for everyone, i was glad to see mapicc playing in the windows before parties and graduations and fighting with concussion, i was glad to see ro, who continued to push forward despite the terrible game of exhaustion.

and I was especially happy to see clown – he was not in the original team and at first it was difficult for me to believe him, but he was motivated and locked in so much that it caused only admiration. two days of waiting at the pb&j base, grinding crystals right before the finale... he showed himself to be the true player, and i was very happy to see him really dedicated to the team and their ideas. and, of course, it was wonderful to see that their bond with branzy is still strong. it's beautiful.

sometimes it was physically painful to watch them, but looking back, i'm glad it happened. they made a very good team. back in january, just starting abyss arc, bacon, zam and mapicc were looking for two more members to make a full-fledged team, and it took them another whole arc to find the remaining two people for this five. it is especially ironic that both ro and the clown, just like jumper, were their enemies before that.

i am glad to see such a finale. they're great. they won. and they absolutely deserved it. happy finale!

p.s. honorable mention: dear ally (-teammate?) of the players, wemmbu. it's interesting how he stayed true to their union in his own way, more because of the circumstances than because he felt he had to. zam said that wemmbu changed his mind about making his video about what happened, and it's sad – because his pov must be just incredibly interesting, because he put just some crazy amount of everything into this arc and just because it would definitely be a very cool video. but very understandable.

lifesteal tends to go wrong, and even a small problem can devalue a potential video for you, and there are so many things that went wrong, topped by the fact that your own plugin was turned against you. it remains for us to collect a picture of what happened in the future through the contributions of everyone else, and i hope that wemmbu has not lost the motivation to play on the ls as a whole.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Overconfidence

Minors and Ageless Blogs, Do Not Interact! This Blog & Subsequent Content Is Not For You!!

TW: Drowning/Death

This is a small little fic that I wrote for @ghouljams writing challenge: "King Killer". The prompt I used was number 16. and I suppose we can also say this falls under number 53 too.

I also didn't even try to write him speaking German, because this isn't going to be long anyways.

König was determined to impress you.

You were a mere civilian, but he wholeheartedly thought you would be perfect for him. He saw you and knew he had to have you, convinced you two were soulmates.

The thing was, you weren't impressed by him. At all. You weren't impressed with his height, the way he wore a sniper hood to cover his face, the fact that he was groveling at your feet like a dog begging for scraps. You weren't even impressed with his Austrian accent.

You definitely weren't impressed by the way his nickname was König, German for "king".

Nevertheless, König was sure demonstrating a big feat would impress you, endear you to him.

Which is how you got to standing outside, in front of a lake. König was standing in front of you, telling you he could walk on water.

You quirked an eyebrow at that, an expression of boredom clear on your face. "You can walk on water? Seriously, König." You wrapped your arms around yourself, cursing the fact that you didn't bring a jacket when he dragged you out of your home. "Come on, it's chilly and this is foolish. Let me just go back home already."

"No, no. You can't go," König said, determined to make you suffer through this just to impress you. "I can walk on water and I will prove it to you. Right now. I'm going to walk on that lake."

"You want to impress me, don't you?" you asked, a sly smile finding its way onto your face as he nodded. You then crossed your arms, looking up at him. "Alright, but I'll only accept it if you keep on your tactical gear."

It was one of the things that failed to impress you; the way König always kept on his tactical gear despite being around civilians and not even able to carry around any weapons. And you just knew that tactical gear had to be heavy, so you were hoping to call his bluff and have him relent on his exaggeration.

However, König didn't relent and admit he couldn't walk on water. He thought of it as a better chance to impress you.

König nodded, as if you had made the best suggestion ever. "Ah, of course. Wearing my tactical gear would be the perfect way to show you that I can in fact walk on water!"

So you watched, as he kept his tactical gear and his boots on and waded into the lake. You kept waiting for him to turn back, or God forbid he actually did walk on water, but neither came.

König, despite the fact that he was wading deeper into the water and not walking on the water, kept going. Eventually, he got out deep enough where he was convinced he was going to walk on the water and he stopped kicking his legs to stay upright.

He told you he was going to rise to the top and stand on the surface, but instead the heaviness of his tactical gear and his own sheer body weight caused him to start sinking deeper and deeper.

You knew he wasn't going to listen to you telling him to come back, so you just watched him sink until his head was fully underwater and you waited for him to resurface. And waited. And waited.

You waited for a good ten minutes, waiting to see that gigantic head of his break through to the surface of the water. But it never came. He stayed under the water and you just accepted it.

You shrugged. "At least he won't be bothering me anymore," you said, nodding to yourself in happiness at the thought.

You turned away, finally able to head back home and into your nice cozy house. You were freezing.

Separator made by @une-femme-de-lettres