#i hope you are not one of those skippers as well..

[dr-albert-g-krueger]

Have one of your Patient ever try to skip therapy?

Of course they have! It's in the nature of humans to be a little scared of positive change.

But i can assure you

No patient has ever tried to skip a session more than once.

[trulyhblue]

write the niamh **** i dare you!!!!!!! never knew i was this down bad for her until she came out in the captains armband and i was like…there’s something about this, she is confident and she is hot and respectfully i shouldn’t say any more

Back To You

Niamh Charles x Aussie! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, massive praise kink, degradation, vibrator, thigh-riding, edging, breeding kink, angst, a bit of Man U hate, semi-public themes, coarse language.

A/N — the demand for Niamhy is finally here…. I honestly don't know what came over me. Bit long, hope you enjoy!

__________________

Time after time, you had watched your girlfriend get angry on the pitch.

You had seen her push and shove, swear and tackle. Niamh wasn't an extremely violent person by any means. She could be kind, gentle, loving, and full of empathy, and in most cases, she was. She wasn't always an intolerance on the field, usually keeping the pace instead of arguing and slowing it down. She was determined, you were technical. All relationships aside, the two of you blended well on the field.

But, Niamh was many things that you weren't.

You had joined Chelsea after progressing through the United Academy. You were born in Manchester and grew up playing football. The move down to London was difficult, but you made your WSL debut in the Blues jersey, and have stayed loyal to them ever since. Unlike many of your teammates, you were very shy. You’d much rather carry the ball down the field than give a shot at goal. You liked weaving in between the midfield and opening up opportunities for your teammates rather than pursuing something for yourself. There was a joke among the Football community that you were allergic to the penalty area because you tried to avoid it at all costs.

You were on the younger side of the team as well, meaning you had less experience than some of your friends. The girls were always there to lift you up and support you, but you managed to stay under the radar, behind the inevitable spotlight.

“Ready for today, Y/L/N?” Sam asked, pulling you out of your daze as you laced your boots. The news of your skipper tearing her ACL was fresh in your mind, but her presence in the room still comforting before a game like this.

Millie was opposite you, patting your knee a few times as she chuckled. “Gonna show those reds a masterclass today, aren't ‘ya?”

You blushed at that, staring down at your boots to avoid the bashful compliments you were receiving. You didn't start often, being classed as a constant sub instead. Today, you were starting. It only made you more anxious that it was against your parent club, one that you used to stay loyal to. One that United fans still ridicule you for leaving. You were an anxious person anyway, but a sold-out stadium and a phone full of social media only fueled your apprehension more.

Your teammates knew of this stress you placed on yourself, and what others placed on you. They had told you thousands of times that Chelsea was lucky to have you, but you constantly lacked the confidence to agree with them. You wanted to prove to everyone that you were capable of exceeding expectations.

“Piss off, you two.” You heard a familiar voice snap. “Leave her alone.”

You looked up to find your girlfriend grabbing your hand, pulling you up so she could wrap her arms across your shoulders. You engulfed her usual scent and sighed in contentment, hugging her back with your arms around her waist, your head against her chest.

You heard Sam scoff, the two women giggling to each other like school girls.

“Captain Niamhy to the rescue.” Your usual skipper teased, poking your side. You yelped, and Niamh sent a glare towards Millie. Sam wobbled closer to the two of you, laughing at the blush that painted your cheeks.

“C’mon, Mils. Let's leave these two love birds by themselves.” She chuckled. “Niamhy wants to show off the armband.”

“I’ll take your crutches, Kerr.” Niamh retorted, ignoring the two women as they sauntered off, placing her attention back on you.

You had left her wandering hands, turned towards your cubby, searching your bag for a hair brush. The anticipation of the game was continuously creeping up on you, and Niamh noticed your apprehension from a mile away.

Your breath hitched when you felt your girlfriend’s hands grip your waist, her front pushing up against your arse. Her voice was softer, raspier. Your bent figure made her bend down so that her mouth was level with your ear.

“You're going make me so proud today, aren't you, Baby?”Her tone sent a shiver down your body, her hot breath fanning down your neck. “‘Gonna show everyone how good you are for me?”

You nodded, feeling your throat close at your flustered state. Your face flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson when Niamh pushed you further into your cubby, moving one of her hands down to the inside of your thigh.

“You’ve got to use your words, yeah?” She muttered, maneuvering your arse so it aligned with her front. “I want to hear you on the field today, okay? Even if I'm on the other side. Understood?”

“Yes.” You muttered.

Niamh tutted. “Yes…?”

You felt all your composure start to fizzle down to your core. “Yes, Niamh.”

“Good.”

You were about to groan before Niamh pulled you upright, tightening her grip on your waist once more before leaving a chaste kiss on your forehead. You threw your head back and sighed, trying desperately to compose yourself before anyone questioned you.

You followed the team out onto the pitch, not realising that Niamh’s little stunt was to take your mind off the game. You moved through shaking everyone’s hands with ease, taking your position without a second glance towards anyone.

The whistle blew, and you were off.

Chelsea were determined to prove themselves after the poor efforts of the West Ham game. People were doubting the Blues after Sam’s injury and the girls all wanted everyone to know that they were serious contestants.

You were never predictable in the midfield, despite never really moving in and out of the middle very often. You found yourself creating as many chances as possible, crossing the ball into United’s half to the best of your ability.

The constant booing from United and cheers from Chelsea were a healthy, even mix, heightening the odds of the game as it progressed. You made as many breaks as you could before you felt the air in your lungs deflate when your body hit the floor.

You were slightly winded from the tackle, needing a moment to gather yourself before making the effort to get back up. Katie Zelem was the one stalking away from you, holding in a smug grin when some of the Chelsea girls threw their hands up in contention — your girlfriend included.

You shook the exchange off, hoping Zelem thought you weren't fazed by the late challenge. The crowd spurred the game into a further frenzy, coercing both sides to exacerbate their emotions.

You strained your neck from side to side, picking up the ball that had rolled away and getting ready for your free kick. Fortunately, the penalty was within United’s half, so naturally, Chelsea banked up near the goal, waiting as you began to run. You watched as the ball was sent over the top of most of the players in the direction of Lauren near the goalpost. With a flick of her head, the girl sent the ball hurling past Mary Earps’ head, speeding over to you in celebration as the United fans were up in arms at the assist you just had.

The team surrounded the two of you, hugging each other before making the swift return back to your position. Millie and Guro made a show of patting your head. Lauren shook your shoulders while Erin jumped up and down. You searched the group for Niamh, but frowned when your girlfriend was on the other side of the field.

“What is she doing?” You asked to no one in particular, staring down Niamh as she spoke with the Ref and Zelem.

Erin shrugged, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “Who cares? All you need to worry about is doing more of what you just did.”

You chuckled at the Scottish woman, using your hand to propel her away playfully. Both sides took their positions, ready to start over. United started with the ball, passing back to their defensive line before weaving it forward.

You weren't too pleased with the style of aggression that both teams were playing with, wishing that you’d walk away with a clean win and sheet. You knew from playing with most of the Manchester girls that they were taught to fight back with twice as much wrath if they were placed into a compromised position like this. Millie Turner was marking you non-stop, and Maya metres away from you at all times. You struggled to keep the ball by your feet without someone coming up behind you and snaking away quicker than it arrived. You were growing more and more irritated as the game progressed, causing you to make stupid mistakes and overthink.

Hayley Ladds sent a shot through Hannah’s hands leading into halftime. Lucia Garcia was holding onto your shirt, yanking it back in an effort to stop you from defending. You watched the Manchester girls crowd each other like your team had done at the start of the game.

You had half a mind to stomp over to the group and pull them apart, but as you looked around, you realised the rest of your team wanted to do the same. The continuous physicality of the Reds was not something you were used to. Chelsea had been dominating the league for the most part — this was not something you were expecting.

The halftime whistle blew, calling the game to a temporary halt as both teams made their way to the changing rooms.

You marched over to Hannah, patting her on the back before retrieving the ball. The girls watched you run back to the middle of the field, placing the ball in its starting position and running back. You could hear the fans screaming as your studs hit the concrete floor, yet you kept your head down to drown out your internal disappointment.

On the rare occasion that you did start, you tried your absolute hardest to keep the ball rolling. You were determined to show people that you weren't just a sub, that you were a valuable asset to the team that deserved to be a part of the starting eleven each week. Back home, you played almost every game during the World Cup with the Matildas. When Steph wasn’t Captain, it was either you or Caitlin. When Sam came back, people found out why Chelsea was lucky to have the two of you. You grew up playing alongside your Aussie teammates, so it was no wonder you moulded so well with them.

You just couldn't understand why you couldn't apply yourself here.

You were about to walk into the Changing Rooms when you heard someone call you out from behind. You turned, finding Katie Zelem walking towards you.

“Can't handle a tackle, can you?” She quipped, watching you remove your shin pads from under your socks. “Even Charles thinks so.”

“You're real cocky for fourth on the table.” You retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. “See you in the second half.”

Zelem stepped forward, scoffing. “Thats if you're not subbed off.”

You shrugged, sliding behind the door and slamming it in response. You knew Katie was saying it in the heat of the moment, but it irked you all the same. Off the pitch, you would apologise and probably trade shirts or something. Now, all you were thinking about was staying on that pitch.

The break went by fast, and you hadn't talked to anyone except for Zelem during that short time.

Guro asked if you were alright, but you shook her off. Niamh had caught onto your mood and figured it best to let you internalise what you were feeling.

Walking back onto the pitch with this newfound persistence meant for a different game. You came on wanting this win more than anyone. Despite the contrary belief of fans, people on the internet, Zelem and anyone else, you wanted to prove this to yourself.

The whistle blew, and you sprinted across towards as an attacking mid. You held out your hand when Guro got hold of the ball, darting down the wing near the edge of the field. Soon enough, the ball fell to your feet. You were expecting the cross to be quick in your feat past Toone and Garcia, moving diligently through their backline for the first time that game.

It seemed that both teams were surprised at your spur of movement. No one was used to seeing you near the goals, now all of a sudden you were on your way to scoring one. You heard Lauren beside you in the penalty box, calling for a pass, but you felt your knees give out when unknown studs hit the back of your shin. The decision of a penalty sending everyone to their feet in either disarray or ecstasy. Everyone expected you to cry out in pain when the whistle blew for contact, but you sprawled back onto your feet in a heartbeat, shoving Katie’s shoulder with so much force it nearly sent her toppling backward.

“What's wrong?” Zelem asked, swiping her shirt in order to rid the mud that had tracked her jersey. “Why the grumpy face?”

“You’re an absolute ride-off, you know that?” You spoke, keeping your eyes focused on her.

“I'm not the one always falling—”

“Oh, fuck off, Zelem!” You snapped, loud enough for the Ref to hear, as you sent another potent push towards the United Captain. A yellow was shown to both of you, leaving Katie to storm off and you to contest the card as soon as it was given.

You were about to give the woman a mouthful when someone came up behind you, grabbing the fabric of your jersey and pulling it into their waist.

You looked up to find Niamh making sure you didn't gain a red, moving you away from the scene with a knot between her eyebrows.

“Did you see her knock her over?” Niamh asked the ref, who was shaking her head at you. “She's been on her the entire game. It's been contacted, late challenges the entire time.”

The ref gave your skipper a warning look, enough for both of you to step away. “You’ve been given the penalty.” She simply put it, motioning for the shot to be taken.

You managed to leave Niamh’s grasp, leaning your hands on your hips as you waited for Guro, who was standing not far from you, to take the shot.

“What are you waiting for?” She called out. “You take it.”

It wasn't much of a shock considering you were the signified penalty taker for your National Team, but Guro’s decision still surprised you nonetheless. You found Niamh beside you still, looking at you up and down with a concealed smirk. You were undoubtedly dirty from the amount of time you spent on the floor, your hair slightly chaotic with strands falling from your face. Your cheeks were tinged a stingy red from the demand of the game, and beads of sweat framed your face.

Your appearance reminded Niamh too much of something else, causing her mind to reel at the thoughts of you lying beneath her. There was someone about you today that sent her into a frenzy. Between the two of you, it was usually Niamh who got herself in trouble with the Refs. You weren't ever the one to contest a card — even when you only had a handful — and instead you’d be the one pulling Niamh away from doing just that.

The reversed roles spurred something within the Captain as she watched her girlfriend line herself up to take the Penalty. You were searching the box for somewhere to slot it into, knowing Earps was ready to defend like her life depended on it.

The stadium went into an eerie silence as you heard the whistle mark your turn. You felt the wind propel you forward, using all your might to kick the ball as hard as you could. Watching anxiously, teething in slow motion, you felt your legs carry you across the pitch, cheering when the ball crashed against the back of the net.

Teammates were on your back instantly, hurling you to the floor, screaming amongst the fans. They shook you, congratulating you, the feeling like you had just scored your first-ever goal resurfacing. You clambered up to face the crowd, smiling as a wave of blue rose to their feet.

_

The game ended with Chelsea fans swarming the tunnel, fans reaching their hands down so they’d meet yours. The short circuit around the pitch was full of euphoria. Everyone was reeling at the game, and compliments were showering at the sight of your Player Of the Match award.

“Yeah, the Aussie!” Sam shouted, meeting you in the Changing Rooms with a bone-crushing hug. You laughed at the woman’s energy, letting her sway you back and forth before lifting the trophy up into the air.

Following Sam’s mischief, Millie’s arms snaked around your waist, lifting you up on the spot. “Look at you go, Missy! Making us proud today, aren't ‘ya?”

“Wasn't all me.” You mumbled, cheeks fragmented with a prominent blush as your teammates scoffed and ridiculed your modesty from around the room. To say they were proud was an understatement. Half of them had already posted for social media, Sam letting everyone know that you were a Matilda with a of you with your national flag wrapped across your shoulders and the Player of The Match Trophy, with the caption ‘a smashing Tillie’ on her story.

“I remember your first goal for Australia,” Sam said, pretending to wipe tears from her eyes. You huffed, shoving her slightly.

“That was years ago, Kerr.”

Sam sighed, shaking her head. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”

Your shower was a nice treat for your teething muscles, your sweats and Niamh’s jumper keeping you warm as you packed your bag and waited for Niamh to finish her media duties.

Once you saw her leaving one of the reporter’s sides, you noticed the dark tinge behind her eyes when she met yours. The smirk that aligned her face on the pitch carried itself to now, making its way across her face as she trampled over to where you stood.

Wrapping her arms around your shoulders, shovelling your head into her chest, she groaned, breathing in the scent of your freshly washed as dried hair.

“Ready to go?” you asked, hoping your girlfriend was just as eager to get back to your shared apartment as you were.

“You did so well today, baby.”

You watched Niamh break away from your shared contact, looking at her jumper hugging the curves of your figure, making it known that she’d much rather see you without it instead.

“Want to show you how proud I am.”

She threaded her fingers across the hem of your jumper, tucking her hand underneath the waistband of your trackpants, and toying with the elastic. Your breath hitched at the cold that pricked your skin, hoping Niamh was too preoccupied with her antics to notice the ache between your thighs.

“Niamhy.” You whispered, looking down at the pavement, waiting for your girlfriend to unhook her lingering hands.

“What do you want me to do, Baby? Want me to show everyone here how good you are?”

“Niamh, I—”

“Good girls get rewards, y’know?” Niamh pulled you closer, her hand moving out of your pants and over your arse, giving it a small squeeze before using her arms to lead you towards the car. “Bet you’d enjoy me fucking you for everyone to see. Show everyone who’s slut you are.”

You couldn't reply. If you did, it wouldn't be coherent. You were silent the whole way home, save for the sacred whimper that fell from your lips when Niamh’s hand squeezed your thigh, the distance of her fingers growing closer to where you needed her in each growing second. You could feel the radiation of desire emitting through the car all the way home. You were itching to feel some kind of relief, especially after the stunt your girlfriend had pulled before the game.

You forgot all about Niamh’s actions throughout the game, only remembering it when the waves of arousal moved down to your core. All you could think about was the way Niamh’s fingers ghosted your clit, teasing you with soft patterns across your legs.

When you arrived home, both of you pretty much bolted inside, dropping your bags onto the floor, only just making it to the bed when your lips met hers in an endeavoured embrace.

You let a moan leave your lips when Niamh pushed you onto the bed, crawling on top of you to swallow your unseemly noises with her tongue. The air in the room was thick as you lifted your hips, attempting to grind against her hips for some well-needed friction.

“So desperate, aren't we?” Niamh tutted, holding herself up with her arms to watch your neediness from afar. She licked her lips at the sight of you writhing beneath her. Your thighs clenched together, rubbing together in despairing need. Much to your dismay, Niamh pulled your knees apart, holding them to the bed with her own legs and a potent smile.

“Niamhy, please.” You whined, the lack of touch sending you into a new dimension of misery. Niamh crained her lips to meet your neck, finding solace in your moans when her lips found your sweet spot. She sucked and licked, rolling her tongue around the growing hickey. She held your legs open, leaving no room for friction. Your head faced the ceiling, your eyes clasped shut as you sighed at the hot marks left all over your neck. With your arms, you threaded Niamh’s hair through your hands, pushing her head deeper into your neck, bringing it down near your breasts.

“Good girls use their words, don't they?” Your girlfriend asked, peeling away from your body, leaving a cold absence behind.

You audibly moaned at the loss of contact. “I've already been a good girl. Been so good, and you said I’d get a reward.”

“Been so good for me, haven't you Babygirl?” Niamh smirked, her lips shadowing your ear, teeth nibbling the skin. “Such a good girl for scoring, aren't you? But maybe I should've bent you over during the game. Show everyone what you deserve. To have you bent over and wet for me.”

“Yes, so wet for you.” You replied, squirming as you felt your core drip with arousal. “Just want you so bad, Niamh.”

“Bet you do.” You felt one of her fingers inch up your jumper, letting the cool air nip your skin. You arched your back, feeling a wave of pleasure overcome you when Niamh’s hand met your breast. “Always wanting me to fuck you senseless like you're mine.”

She fondled it slowly, flicking your nipple in between her fingers, watching your eyes roll back when she pushed down on your cleavage. “Such a good slut for me though. So ready for me always. Are you ready for me now?”

Your head seeped into the pillow, the feeling of your breasts being attended to sending you into ecstasy. “Oh— yes, Niamh. Please, so ready for you. Want you inside me so bad.”

“Let me take this off first,” Niamh muttered, stripping off your jumper hastily, groaning at the sight of your chest on full display. You moaned and wiggled at the air hitting your nipples, making them harden for Niamh’s sole exhibition. Without hesitation, she took one of your nipples into her mouth, sucking harshly, nibbling slightly, leaving dark, heavy marks across both your breasts. Her hands groped both of them, moving them to her liking and rubbing them back and forth at varying paces. You writhed beneath her, your cheeks aflame at the sight of the marks littering your chest.

“Marking me up so good, baby.” You sighed, hoping the praise would speed up the process. “Wanna be your good girl so bad, Niamh.”

“So perfect for me.” She mumbled, her speech impaired as she was too busy marking you to lean up. “Taking me so well, aren't you? Is that what you want? You want me to fill you up? Make you so full of cum?”

Your instant agreeance made the girl chuckle. “Want you to fill me up. Wanna make my captain proud, Niamhy. Want you so bad.”

When hearing those words fall from your mouth, Niamh couldn't help but moan. She didn't know you had been turned on by her captaincy. If she had known prior, she would've brought the fucking armband home with her. She wouldn't fucked you multiple times with the band stuffed in your mouth, around her arm, or anywhere that remotely turned you on. She would've been lying if she hadn't found your unknown kink arousing, for the thriving want of tasting you grew as your sweet nothings filled the air.

Niamh pulled her head down, kissing down your abdomen and torso, looking back once more at the mess she had made over your chest before kneading your hips for some sense of relief.

“You've made me so proud, Baby.” She found the waistband of your pants once more, this time, taking her time to find the strength to pull them down. “But rewards can vary, remember? Sometimes, good girls get to choose what they want when they've made their captain proud.”

“Just want you, Niamh.” You whined, crying out when you lifted your hips for what felt like the hundredth time, only to meet nothing.

Your girlfriend hummed, inching down your pants, hoping you’d make your decision more sufficiently than that. “I'm afraid you're gonna have to be more specific than that, my love. Good girls who get to choose their rewards have to use their words.”

When you didn't immediately reply, Niamh shook her head, looking towards the draw that sat by your bedside table. “I thought you said you were my good girl?”

“I am! Just want you, though.”

Niamh knew when you got like this, you just wanted to be told what to do. You were always the quieter one in every situation, introverted and kept to your own. In many ways, Niamh liked that about you. Your outgoing person today against United was something she could get used to. But she wanted to make you feel more comfortable in speaking your truth. She wanted you to know that your decision was valued among discussions. She was not sure how to implement this into everyday life just yet, but she found that during sex, even if Niamh was dominating the exchange — which nine times out of ten she was — she wanted you to have autonomy over what you did.

This was just one example among many, and when you didn't comply, she’d have different methods to get you speaking.

She waited an extra moment just in case you changed your mind before leaning towards the table and searching for something in particular.

You were so subbed out that you didn't even notice the noise until you felt Niamh pull you upright, pulling you up to stand in front of the bed while she peeled off her top, leaving her in a sports bra and training shorts.

When you noticed what she held in her hands, you groaned. “Niamhy—”

“Shut up and listen.” She ordered, her firmness overpowering the contrasted softness she once held before. You straightened up, rubbing your legs together and moaning at the basic sense of relief that flooded down to your clit.

“Take off your pants. Keep your underwear on.”

You made no argument in that, taking no time in chucking your pants in the opposite direction, leaving your tarnished, drenched underwear on show.

“Come here.” Niamh stretched her legs out and beckoned you over. “Don't sit but hover.”

You did as you were told, not entirely wanting to act like a brat after you've just been promised a reward. Your legs ached from the game and from waiting for some kind of relief, shaking ever so slightly as you waited over Niamh’s leg for further instruction.

“Here’s what's going to happen,” You felt your cheeks darken at your girlfriend's firm tone, biting your lips and watching the woman play with the vibrator in her hand.“Since you expect me to do all the work and make all the decisions, you've landed yourself here.” You nodded intently, not exactly sure where this was heading. “You've got to realise that you need to tell me what you want to do sometimes, okay? It's not always about what I want to do. You've got to want it to. Do you understand?”

Even with the sternness of her tone, her underlying motives were precious. You nodded again, your legs growing even more sore as your thighs flexed at the stretch over Niamh.

“Yes, Niamh. I promise I do.”

Your girlfriend inevitably noticed your ache but chose to continue on her rant, knowing that you knew you weren't going to go to sleep tonight unsatisfied.

“You’ll get your reward after this,” With a flick of a switch, you heard the vibrator sound from beneath where you hovered. “You're going to get off on my thigh and the vibrator without my help. All I'm going to do is watch you.”

You let out a guttural moan when Niamh placed the toy against your thigh, looking at her with the utmost displeasure when she chose to put it there instead of your clit.

“You get to come,” Niamh grabbed both of your hips, squeezing them and making sure they were up and away from any friction. “But only when you to tell me two ways you want me to fuck you tonight.”

Your jaw slightly dropped at that. You were never the one to say anything incredibly vulgar, always alluding to what you wanted through noises and actions. Niamh always got slightly annoyed when you weren't confident in what you wanted, especially after your climax when she’d cuddle up beside you and rid of all the juices that leaked from your core. Niamh knew how to please you better than anyone else could, and she knew that you knew that. In fact, she took great pride in knowing that you trusted her to get you off without needing to tell her. But it was a long time coming. You knew that Niamh wanted you to speak your truth, not just in the bedroom but everywhere. You didn't want to stand out or say something not worthwhile. You were quite content with staying under the radar.

But despite this, Niamh waited for your approval of the idea, only turning up the vibrator and placing her hands behind her head when you spoke audible clearance.

You lowered yourself onto Niamh’s thigh as soon as possible, reeling your head backwards when the vibrations made their way into your core. Your girlfriend groaned st the sight of you rubbing your heat against her, finding it difficult not to grab you and fuck you right then and there. She watched you roll your hips back and forth, letting you use the headboard for you to balance yourself with extra support. It took you a while to find a rhythm, only consistent in your movements when some of the fabric of your underwear rubbed up against your clit, making you moan out at the contact of your swollen nub. Niamh saw the vibrator appear in and out of your humps, finding herself staring at the gleaming patch of arousal coating her thigh. The toy buzzes against your thigh, aiding you in your endeavours to get off.

The flustered state and external shyness in what you were meant to say daunted you as you felt your climax approaching.

You refused to look at Niamh in hopes that she would forget about her orders and watch you cum all over her instead.

The fabric against your clit rubbed itself back and forth diligently to the extent that the combination of the vibrator, and the slick made your breathing uneven and the coil in your stomach build to higher distances. You felt your tits move as you kneaded one and pitched the other nipple, closing your eyes and imagining Niamh.

You let out a pornographic moan, euphoria almost washing over you when your core clenched around nothing and started to release. You were about to finally feel a sense of relief when hands found your hips, lifting you away from any friction whatsoever as the vibrator was switched off.

“I can do this all night, y’know.” You heard her say, scoffing when you pouted. “I know how to get off on my own. I've got the videos of you cumming all over my face to prove it.”

“I was so close.”

“You could be so close every single time,” Niamh took the vibrator away, wiping the creamy liquid that coated the toy. “But if you do it again, I’ll edge you all night until you're overstimulated and forget everything except my name. You’ll be begging to cum and you won't even think about cumming for the next month.”

“Niamh, that’s—”

She cut you off with a sudden buzz directly on your clit. Your eyes widened at the vibrator next to your nub, moaning and crying out at the instant pleasure that fell over you. Your core was already sensitive to the teasing and edging, so your senses were heightened at the feeling. You knew Niamh wasn't bluffing, and you knew you wouldn't be able to get away with this.

She slipped off your underwear, letting the air reach your swollen clit.

“You're going to hump my thigh with this vibrator inside of you and tell me how you want me to fuck you.” She started. “Or, every night, I tie you up and make you watch me fuck myself to videos of you for the next month.”

She lowered you back onto her thigh, smirking when you whined at the vibrator pushing its tip inside of you. The toy wasn't able to fit wholly inside of you, only having to latch onto your clit and slightly inside your hole for it to work its magic. It made you crave for Niamh’s finger to fill you up and push your prior orgasms into you. You wanted her to fill you up with her strap and fuck you into ecstasy while you screamed out her name over and over again. You remembered many nights when Niamh would coat her strap with her own cum and fuck it into you. Her phone would be propped up somewhere, showcasing the juices forced up your hole. Niamh has a photo of you doing absolutely anything.

“Niamhy, want you— want you to—”

“Tell me, sweetheart, what do you want?”

When she was away for National Camps, and you couldn't Facetime due to the time difference, you sent her a video of you fingering yourself while whining about how much you missed her fingers.

“Want you to fill me— with your fingers-”

“Gonna make sure you're full of me, baby.”

She had a video of you getting yourself off with her watching. She had photos of you in all types of positions. She had an album of you screaming her name, calling her everything under the sun, cause she told you to and you always complied.

“Your mouth— your strap, Niamhy, want your dick inside me so bad.”

“Pound into until you're subbed out, am I?”

You remember watching a video of you riding her strap with her England Jersey on, bouncing up and down on the toy with your tits bobbing in front of the camera.

“Want to ride you like now. Eat me— eat me out, Niamhy, baby.”

“Fuck, baby, say my name.”

You knew that if you didn't comply, Niamh had plenty of things to keep her occupied.

The vibrator rolled inside of you, sending your back arching and heat throbbing. “Niamh, baby, I’m— fuck! I'm so close!”

Niamh was flushed, encaptured by the visual show of your tits and the way you bounced on her thigh so that the vibrator would dig its way into your core.

“Come for me, baby.” She spoke, jolting her knee so that the pressure in between your thighs would double.

You screamed, letting out the loudest of moans, as you felt your come coat the vibrator entirely, leaking all over Niamh’s thigh and yours.

“Such a good girl for me, aren't you gorgeous.” Niamh’s voice was raspy and hoarse. “Ride it out for me, baby. Yeah— just like that.” Her grip on your hips sent your orgasm out as she moved your hips back and forth until it was too much.

You moved to the side, collapsing so that your back was against the bed.

Niamh climbed on top of you, a devilish, content smirk lining her lips.

“We’re not done yet, love.”

You whined, but internally, you were excited for the night you were about to have.

_______________________

A/N — oh my god.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— What if I'm not good enough, anymore?

pairings: beth mead x reader, vivianne miedema x reader

summary: reader has self doubts that she won't be as good as she was when she makes her return to the pitch.

Warnings: heavy angst, talks of mental health and a minor eating disorder.

Okay, I won't lie. This was, well this was hard to write and there was a lot of tears throughout because its' a little too close to home right now with things going on, but you guys wanted it, so here we go.

Let me know what you think!

"What if I'm not good enough now?" The thoughts spiral through your brain.

It's your number one fear. It's the thing that keeps you up at night, lying awake with those thoughts plaguing your mnd.

You know you shouldn't be thinking about things like that, but your mentality of your injury was overshadowing the physical rehab your still yet to get the greenlight for yet.

Would you be good as you were when you come back?

Sure you've watched each of the girls come back from their injury and make a return to the pitch, some of them a bit more rockier than usual, but now they're striving and you can only hope that your own journey will be as smooth sailing.

Your impatient though, both incredibly and insufferably impatient.

It's a downfall that has come back to bite you in the ass, one too many times previously.

Could you blame your dad for that though?

Growing up, hes' only ever pushed you. Pushed you to push through the pain; Your dad was an impatient man himself, one with a temper and he didn't believe that letting you rest was the best thing sometimes.

The first few months of your recovery after your surgery felt long, all you felt was agitation and more so frustration not being allowed to do things that you once took for granted.

You really did hate depending on those around you, you felt like a constant burden despite that fact that all the girls kept on reassuring you that you weren't, but in the back of your mind, you always thought different about it.

The one thing you never realised would be as hard would be the mentality of it all, the physical pain was tiresome and therefor, your mental health was taking a battering rapadly.

"You okay, kid?" The familiar voice of your team mum speaks up to get your attention.

Your too wrapped up in your thoughts to barely even hear her, "M' fine,"

"You sure? You seem quiet-- What is it, does your knee hurt? Do you want another pillow?" Beth tries to offer her help, assisting you with whatever you need.

"I'm fine, Beth!" You shout loudly.

You hadn't meant to snap at Beth of course, but your emotions got the better of you and your temper has always been your worst enemy, amongst other things.

"O... Okay," Beth is taken back by your sudden burst of anger. "Well, you know I'm just through the kitchen if you need me, okay?" She reassures you.

"Mhm," You barely acknowledge her precense, choosing to stare blankly at old episode of Bones you'd put on to try and disract your mind.

You wanted to retreat to your bedroom, but after the last time where you remembered the staged intervention with a certain blonde english skipper, you thought against the idea of that.

So for now, you'll just sit on the sofa, wallowing in self-pity and get attached to fictional characters whos' deathes are inevitable.

"Have you noticed that Y/N is uh..." Beth whispers, hesistant for you to overhear her from the other room.

"Distant?" Viv guesses straight away.

The blonde furrows her eyebrows and nods in slow motion, "Well, yes, uh and a bit snippy as well. Should we talk to her?" She wonders, trying to figure out the best approach to talk to you.

"It's probably a good idea--" Vivs' agreement is cut off.

"You know I can hear you guys, right?" You make your voice known, of course you knew they would be whispering about you.

After all, your not a complete moron to not hear it.

"Y/N," Viv begins to speak.

"I don't like it when you talk about me like that!" You uneasily stand up on your feet, going to move towards the direction of your bedroom for a bit of peace and quiet.

"At least use your crutches!" Beth shouts aloud, gesturing to the item that is currently the bane of your life.

"Bite me!" You respond, scowling at them as you shuffle slowly past, trying to withhold from wincing at the sudden shooting pain in your knee.

At least you do a good job to hold your tears back until your in the confindments of your own bedroom, comforted with the blanket that you can wrap around you and try to block out the rest of the world.

As soon as you got the go-ahead from the doctors to start your rehab at the training grounds, you were virtually jumping for joy.

At least you was on the outside; Inside on your head, it was a completely different story. You were battling your own inner feelings of doubt.

Of course from the minute you'd been allowed back in the gym, every single of your team mates were more than supportive of this step forward in your recovery.

They all knew you'd been finding it difficult, and sure enough most of them had even got the brunt of your anger.

Starting out with your rehab process, you had to start with light excercises but in your head that didn't feel good enough.

You want to be out there on the pitch already, you hate the fact that the healing process is taking so long.

You didn't feel it was fair at all, why won't your stupid knee just heal already?

"You've got this, Y/N!" One of the pyshios' encourage you to keep going with the current training excercise, something so simple felt so hard to you now.

Viv smiles encouringly as she cheers you on from the sidelines, "You're doing great kid." She states.

"Keep pushing!" Leahs' right there beside her, her voice gentle but still managed to hold a firm tone in a way to keep you going.

"You can do this, kid!" Beth chimes in, trying to keep her own tears of happiness at bay as she watches your journey to recovery step that step forward. "We're so proud of you!"

Tears of frustration were visable, even the simplest of tasks felt so gruelling; There were even times whether you questioned if you wanted to hang your football boots up, but that was an easy way out.

Football is your life and its your passion, you'd be gutted to do that.

You had to push forward, you had to do better. You had to be better!

If only it was that simlpe, right?

Nobody warned you off the setbacks in the journey. You had to figure that one out yourself, even the slighest knock and it was a step backwards.

It always seems to be one step forward, two steps back.

You shouldn't have pushed yourself, you should have known better, but of course, your stubborn streak let you down.

In your own opinion, your recovery wasn't going as quick as you wanted it to. So you took it upon yourself to train extra hard in the gym, sure it was difficult under the watchful eye of the older girls' as they wanted to make sure to not let you overdo it, but you had your ways.

Making excuses and staying late at the training grounds once the team had all gone, pushing yourself to the extreme - Unaware of just how much damage you'd be putting yourself through.

Damn stupid knee injuries.

It works to keep your extra training sessions a secret, at least for a while, until one night when your caught red handed, by no other person that the stern blonde English skipper, so just so happens to have come back to pick something up that she'd forgotten.

"Y/N?" You recognise that all too familiar voice all too well, having been on the recieving end of a few lectures.

You freeze in your spot on the treadmill, which isn't very safe in itself, "Shit-- It's not what it looks like!" Your quick to protest.

"Oh? So your not overworking yourself in the gym then, hm?" Leah quirks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, well, uh yeah. I guess?" You stutter your words, knowing you've definitely been caught out now.

Leah can't help but chuckle amusedly, "You guess?"

"I, uh... Look I know it looks bad, but I needed to do this, Le." If you've been caught out then you're at least going to try and fight your reasoning for it, even if she doesn't believe you.

Judging my her facial expression, the blonde definitely isn't fooled.

"Come on. Lets' go, baby England," Leah motions you to follow her, holding out her hand for you to take.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you shut the whirring treadmill off and gingerly look at her, "Why-- Where are we goin'?" You ask.

"Well first I'm taking you for something to eat and then I'm taking you home, its' already been a long day," Your English Captains' quick to tell you, although before you have chance to protest, she continues to speak. "And you shouldn't be pushing yourself anymore than you already are, alright?" She states.

"But..." You still try and protest against the idea.

"No buts, I know you haven't eaten much, buddy," Leahs' firm voice interjects, still continuing to hold her hand out for you to take. "Come on. Grab your stuff and lets' go,"

You should have known it would only be a matter of time before you were caught out.

How could you be so careless, though?

You didn't think you not eating enough would be that noticeable, but apparently not.

Begrudingly, you step off the treadmill and clutch onto her hand to steady your uneasiness coming off it, "Are you going to tell Beth and Viv about this?" You ask, cautiously.

"I have to," Leah replies in agreement.

"Why?" You fight the urge to whine, even if makes sense for them to know, you wish they didn't have too.

"You can't push yourself, kiddo. You know how serious this injury is!" Leahs' firm voice makes a return, not missing the chance to make it known how much of a bad decision this was for you to make.

You know it looks bad, you do but yet you still couldn't help yourself.

You wanted to get better. You wanted-- No, you needed to do better.

"But I'm so fed up, Le," You grumble, walking in the direction of the changing room to grab your stuff. "Why... Why won't it just fuckin' heal already?" You don't mean to swear, you've never been one to use colourful language, but your frustration is at it's brink right now.

"Whoa, easy on the language there, buddy," Leah jokes, chuckling as she wraps her free arm around your shoulder. "Listen, I know your frustrated, but its' going to take time and you know this. You can't rush it, or you'll make it worse!" She states, firmly.

"Stupid knees' injuries suck," You murmer, gathering your stuff together before you make the exit from the training grounds.

Leah chuckles as she unlocks her car, gesturing for you to climb in the passenger seat, "Yep, yes they do," She agrees with you.

"I just want to be out there on the pitch already," You admit, slumping down into the seat once you have buckled yourself in.

The blonde smiles sympathetically at you, understanding your frustration, "That day will come, but for now, you've just gotta trust the process and let your body heal," She pauses before she continues. "I know you don't like it and all, but you have to just be patient this once, buddy."

"Even if it takes forever?" You resist the urge to groan and throw your head back.

"Even then, because it'll be worth it when you make your return to the game," Leah promises you with a gentle tone of voice.

"Yeah, but, what if..." Your sidetracked from what you are going to say, trying to not spiral into your dark thoughts once again.

"What if?" Leah furrows her eyebrow.

You swallow the lump that forms in your throat, "What... What if I'm not as good as I was before I got injured?" You confess the fear that's been plaguing your mind for god-knows how long.

Leah looks at you concerned, "You don't know how its' gonna be, but what I do know is that whatever happens, we're all behind you," She promises you as she gives you a kind smile and gently squeezes your good knee. "The day you eventually do return to the pitch, you're damn sure we'll all be there cheering as loud as we can," She promises you.

"Even if you're on the pitch as well?" You can't help but giggle.

Leah proudly nods in agreement as she grins, "Hey, I'll personally stop the game just to welcome you on the pitch, baby England." The blonde winks playfully at you from where she sits in the car.

"Your silly sometimes, Le," You mumble, finding it hard to take the blonde serious in this very moment.

"I know you're all up in your head about this, but it's going to be okay," Leah words stick firm in your brain as you smile. "Your not alone in this journey, you're never alone. We've got you." 

© scribblesofagoonerr

[sunburstl0v3]

CHAPTER ONE

✿ Ken x Fem. Reader x Barbie ✿

SUPER SHY

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 떨리는 지금도, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺, 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘺

───────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────────

"Hello..." she spoke, so soft that Barbie almost missed it, "Hi Barbie, welcome to Barbie Land."

The woman blinked, pouting, "I'm not Barbie, I'm [Y/n]."

What?

Barbie was confused, "You're [Y/n] ...?" Barbie sucked in her lips, "Yes." [Y/n] averted her gaze back to the ocean, holding her hands tightly together. This was not what was supposed to happen. "But you have to be someone, like Skipper! Or Midge...Are you sure you're not pregnant?"

[Y/n]'s eyebrows furrowed, absolutely offended, "What! No! I'm not a Skipper or a Midge. I'm [Y/n]."

Barbie smiled apologetically whispering a small 'Sorry', looking the new girl up and down. Finally noticed her attire, it was very different to what many Barbies wear here.

This was not who Barbie was expecting. Not. At. All. Barbie turned back to stare at the Kens and Barbies all awaiting an introduction at least to what they think is the new Barbie. With a quick breath Barbie faced back [Y/n], "Let's go introduce yourself to everyone." [Y/n] turned her head, Barbie noticed how she shined in the sun's orange rays.

"I'd like that." [Y/n] said, now turning her whole body around to face everyone. Barbie grabbed onto [Y/n] hand and pulled her close as the two walked closer. "Hi, Barbies!" Ken yelled which made everyone else start, "Hi Barbie!" "Hiya Barbie!" "Welcome Barbie!"

Barbie smiled awkwardly, as she got closer and closer to the crowd, dreading having to explain this was not who they were expecting. Barbie turned looking at [Y/n], was looking as how you would expect someone to look when people were not expecting you....

"Hello." [Y/n] responded, a soft smile gracing her lips, "I'm [Y/n], I hope we get along..."

"So, you're not a Barbie...?" one Barbie asked, "No, I'm [Y/n]." "You're not Skipper or even a Midge, are you?" [Y/n] shook her head again, tightening her hold on her fingers, "No. I'm [Y/n]."

"Who are you for?" Ken questioned, "If you're not a Barbie, that means you are one of a kind," [Y/n] smiled a bit at that, "Or you were a mistake?" Ken finished, of course this wasn't Barbie's Ken who said this.

Barbie bit her lip, "Okay! Well since [Y/n] has arrived, yay! Let's have that super-duper party!" With those few words the Barbies and Ken, all cheered and began leaving the beach in preparation for the party, which was truly just an outfit change.

Barbie laughed a bit at herself lightly, maybe this party will go as planned. Hopefully. Barbie smiled back at [Y/n], showing her perfectly white teeth, "There's gonna be a huge party at my Dream house! In your honor, and all the Barbies for just being perfect..." Barbie giggled.

"My house is the big pink one! You can't miss it." Barbie finished, walking away from [Y/n], letting out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

That's it? [Y/n] thought to herself, A party...Where do I go from here?

"Hi [Y/n]." In the midst of her thoughts, someone said her name. [Y/n] looked around and saw a blonde man with bright blue eyes.

"Hello..." [Y/n] replied, like a deer in headlights, "What's your name?" He beamed slightly at the attention, "Ken!" He smiled dopily, "I'm Barbie's Ken, the one you first met."

"Oh!" [Y/n] was surprised, so everyone just had a Ken? "I hope you're happy together!" [Y/n] smiled back at him. Ken smirked and kicked the sand lightly (he made sure not to send the sand her way), "Thanks! Barbie's just great you know. But she doesn't pay attention to me."

[Y/n] pursed her lip, "Why not?" Ken shrugged, putting his hand in his pockets, "I'm just Ken." [Y/n] stood there, her lips flat-lining, she had just arrived at Barbie Land and is already doing couple's therapy. [Y/n] pondered for a moment, "Well...Maybe dance with her at the party? I don't know."

Ken thought about it, but his smile got wider the second he thought about it more, "You're a genius! Maybe that's what you are! Genius [Y/n]!" the [h/c] haired woman smiled, "Maybe!" Ken looked past [Y/n] while she quietly giggled to herself, seeing Barbie hop into her convertible and drive away.

"I can take you to Barbie's Dream House!" Ken offered, "I know this place like the back of my hand!" He then waved his hand around erratically causing [Y/n] to snicker even more.

Suddenly [Y/n] looked down at her clothes, it wasn't exactly to all the Barbie's standards, at least that's how she felt, "Is there a Barbie...that has better clothes for me?" Ken looked the worried woman up and down, thinking really hard to himself, "Yea! I know a Barbie!"

Ken reached out his hand, waiting for her to take it. Hesitantly, [Y/n] grabbed his hand and held it. Without warning, Ken leaped away, taking [Y/n] with him, almost taking a tumble.

In no time they reached a Barbie with the same body type who instantly started to help, giving [Y/n] a bright-colored dress and shoes. "And if I wear this...everyone will like me?" [Y/n] asked, gazing down at the dress, it was very beautiful. A white dress with pink polka dots and white heels.

"Mhm," Ken replied, absentmindedly. [Y/n] breathed out, what was she feeling, why did she want the Barbies and Ken to like her? [Y/n] tapped her foot on the floor as the other Barbie got herself ready for the party. "Come on!" Ken said, taking hold of [Y/n]'s arm, "What?" she gasped, being pulled up from her seat, "I wanna get there first to the party." Ken pouted, "Before Ken gets there and steals Barbie's attention..." the two began walking together to Barbie's Dream House.

[Y/n] frowned, "Maybe you should talk to Barbie about it?" Ken shrugged, "Like I said, she won't listen." [Y/n]'s shoulders slumped, "Maybe, or maybe not..." she mumbled.

Ken smirked at himself, "Anyway! Today's not about me, it's about you! Remember!" Ken cheered, "We have parties all the time but finally we have a reason to celebrate something!" [Y/n] hummed at Ken, "What do we do after the party?"

"Oh, Barbie has a sleepover with some of the Barbies, and the Ken's just leave." "Leave?"

"Yeah."

"To go where?" Ken shrugged in response, "Hey maybe Ken will want to get to know you! Or even my best friend Allan!" Ken gushed, [Y/n] was excited as well, she wanted to make a better impression than last time.

The two chatted with each other while they walked to Barbie's Dream House, and quickly reached their destination. The whole house was packed with all kinds of Barbies and Kens. Music pumping and dancing could be seen from the entrance, "Aw! Don't tell me were late!" Ken suffered, letting go of [Y/n] and running towards the house, making sure he got to Barbie.

Which left [Y/n] all alone.

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taglist: @imogen-skye@samhomo@almostjollypizza@itstylersblog@meowkid1000 @urmomsbananabread bxdbxtxh15 spi6ke rosecentury navs-bhat digipaw2-0 manticcashew shakysif hisfuture pxppxrminty bluestuesday hiddencatails spookyscellar savagemickey03

[lindssunflower]

𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐘, bradley bradshaw

part two ♡

♡ ✈︎ authors note: wow! thank you guys so much for the likes and reposts on the previous part! I appreciate it so much. I hope you guys like the part two <3

♡ ✈︎ summary: bradley's on the way over to your house to discuss his sudden heartfelt message.

♡ ✈︎ warnings: emotions!!

♡ ✈︎ pairings: bradley bradshaw x f!reader

────୨ৎ────

he's on the way. the realization of the situation finally sets in your mind.

you messaged him your new address to your new house. you're house that is filled with empty memories and promises of the past. bradley lives twenty minutes away and he usually speeds which always scared you when you'd ride passenger in his sky blue bronco.

the one time he really scared you was when you guys were late to mav's birthday at the hard deck and he went a 65 in a 45. you never understood why cause mav was a pretty well tempered man and you couldn't imagine him being upset about you and bradley being a few minutes late to his party. which despite bradley's best efforts to get there on time, you were approximately five minutes late. and no, mav wasn't upset.

however, this isn't the time to think about bradley's very unsafe driving. it's time to think about what the heck you're gonna say to the man whom you haven't seen in months. will he look any different? will he think you look different? you still can't even believe he went on that dangerous of a mission, that almost costed him his life, that you had no idea about. sure, you could've asked phoenix but you two didn't stay in touch that often anymore unless it's to strictly message one or two messages about how bradley's doing, which you only really asked fresh out of the relationship. not three months after. you were supposed to be moving on anyway.

for a few weeks you laid in bed. in your best friends house that you moved into for a little while until you could get back on your feet after losing bradley and his apartment that you lived in for two years along with him. during those few weeks of nothing but thinking and mourning the loss of your relationship, you were trapped with the idea of how you were supposed to build your life around yourself again. bradley and your red golden retriever, skipper, were your entire life.

he never liked skipper anyway you thought. he only tolerated "that dog" cause you'd never even think about saying yes to bradley's offer to move in after 3 months of dating if he didn't say yes to the dog making stay in his apartment too. he'd never admit it, but he secretly loved the old mutt that would fetch him his beers and cry by the front door when he was deployed.

he welcomed the dog to welcome you. no skipper no you. and he knew that.

so he bought the expensive dog bed, that he never used anyway. skipper usually slept in the middle of you two despite bradley's protests.

you two had a good life. you just wanted more than cuddling while watching bradley's football games and weekend drinking at the hard deck. you wanted a family. a child that was a mix of you and him. you wanted marriage. you wanted his complete commitment. that he could never give you, for reasons you never knew why. you knew he wasn't the unfaithful type. no, bradley looked at you like the only women in the world. whether you were dolled up for a night out, or in bed wearing his tee shirt with no makeup on. he just loved you. every version.

so why didn't he want to commit? did he expect to just stay boyfriend and girlfriend forever and never husband and wife? were you casual to him?

the thoughts plagued your mind until you heard the familiar knock on the door that you knew belonged to bradley. your heart immediately starts racing and your hands start to shake. you walk over to the door and open it.

he did look different.

his hair was longer and his under eyes were darker. as if he hasn't slept in a few days or maybe just the night. he was wearing a hawaiian tee that he usually wore when he wasn't in uniform. he said they reminded him of his dad. he loved his dad.

he had the same boyish half smile that he'd always wear when he would just stare and watch you as you made dinner. that he always appreciated and loved. it was a look you couldn't ever really describe or explain when you'd tell your friends. it was the look of admiration in his eyes that would always have your heart swarm with butterflies when he looked at you like that. like the way he's looking at you right now.

you stand against the doorframe and decide you're probably going to have to be the one to speak first, "brad?" your voice quiet as you wait for him to respond.

he puts his hands in his pockets and sighs, "you look beautiful."

your heart swarmed with those familiar butterflies that you haven't felt in a while. not since your last kiss with the man before he shattered your heart three months ago.

"thank you." you said. the words almost came out as a whisper. you tried to communicate with him with your eyes that you want him to talk about the messages he sent you thirty minutes ago were about. "come in," you gestured towards your door. he follows behind you and looks around your new house before locking eyes with you again. "y/n.. I know this is all um-" his voice strains as he speaks, almost sounding as if he Is trying to find the right words to say. "I'm sorry okay? I'm so sorry I ever walked out on you. I'm an idiot and I didn't know what I had until I lost it. until I lost you." his voice cracks as his eyes well up with tears that haven't beckoned to fall yet, "I was scared of starting.. a- a family with you. I just.. I watched my mom cry almost every night after losing my dad and I just couldn't do that to you," a single tear falls down your face as you quickly wipe it. overwhelmed with bradley's unknown and unspoken feelings that you never knew he even harbored until now.

he didn't talk about his past much. of course, you knew the basic's but never this much detail and underlying trauma. you just immediately wanted to grab him and hold him. if only you knew.

the tears that were building in his eyes fall. you wipe them as he continues, "If we ever had a family, I just couldn't bare the thought of leaving you widowed with our child. leaving you alone to raise them without me. i don't want them to feel like I felt." he let out a sob, you frowned and grabbed him, pulling him closer to you as you let him rest his head on your shoulder. he wrapped his arms around you and you ran your hand through his unruly curls, "its okay.." you whisper in his ear. he unwraps his arms from around you and lays his hands on either side of your hips, "I want what you want now though. I knew the risks, but when I was in the air and I didn't know if I was going to make it or not I didn't want my last regret to be knowing I never even tried to give you a family. or me as a husband. I love you, y/n." you wish you could've seen your face as you felt your face beam with joy as you grab his face and kiss him. he immediately kisses you back. the kiss didn't feel the same way it did a few months ago, it felt like as if you lost something valuable and found It again. like lost treasure. bradley bradshaw was your lost and found treasure. and you're gonna make sure this time you're never going to lose it again.

────୨ৎ────

♡ ✈︎ authors note: what do we think guys? do we love?? let me know!

[chaoslynx]

So glad ur back & I hope you’re doing well! I recently have been listening to a lot of Alex G and his song No Bitterness is so ash coded… “my teacher is a child with a big smile, no bitterness”… ash healing his inner child by being a good big brother to Michael :’) could be a good idea for a fic <3 your writing is amazing and I hope life is treating you better!!!!

Ash knows that jaded isn't a bad word to describe him, in more ways than one.

There's the color, of course. Jade. His middle name. But beyond that, Ash knows that he's ... disillusioned, shall he say, with the world around him. Jaded. It makes sense, when you've seen the things he has.

Ash wasn't out of place with this, at least not for a long time. Most of the people around him were also disillusioned. They'd all seen shit in some way or another, though hopefully few as bad as Ash. They saw past the sparkling NYC lights and into the filth coating every inch of the city, no matter how high the tax brackets became in some areas. They saw past the smiles to the teeth, and past the outstretched hands to the claws.

Ash tried to protect Skip's innocence in as many was as he could, but he was always a bit late to that. And Ash got Skipper killed in the end, so maybe he didn't do much good.

Eiji was one of the first people Ash met—past Griff, at least—who didn't share that same jadedness as he did. But there were more, after him. Well, not after, because Eiji stayed by Ash's side. But there were more people since meeting Eiji who also seemed ... hopeful, almost.

Max, stupidly, despite the war he'd been a part of. Jessica, despite the harm Ash just existing caused her. Ibe, who always seemed more than a touch overwhelmed by everything taking place in the States.

And, of course, Michael.

Michael is a little younger than Skip had been, and around the same age that Ash gained his current perspective on life. Ash is determined to not let the same happen to Michael.

When he stays over at Max and Jessica's place, Ash has his own room—the guest room, really, but they always tell him it's his whenever he wants it. This guest room is upstairs in the house, and shares a wall with Michael's room. Ash worries about this sometimes, since he knows his nightmares aren't always quiet. After the time he punched Bones' teeth out when the kid tried to wake him up from a nightmare, Ash made sure the gang stayed away from him when he was asleep, no matter how much pain he seemed to be in.

Max and Jessica told Ash that he was welcome to use the lock on the guest room door. At first, Ash was hesitant. After all, this isn't his house. This isn't his room. How could he lock the people who live here out?

It was Michael, in the end, who changed Ash's mind. Not that Michael actually did anything, but Ash realized that with them sharing a wall, there was a chance Michael would hear one of Ash's nightmares and go to check on him. Ash, of course, couldn't let that happen, so he started locking the door.

It didn't occur to Ash until it happened that he might be able to hear Michael's nightmares through the wall, too.

Stupidly, it didn't really occur to Ash that 'normal' kids like Michael even had nightmares. Not that Michael hasn't had more than his fair share of pain, much of it due to Ash's influence himself. He really should have known better ...

Still, the first time he hears Michael cry out in his sleep, Ash finds his hand reaching for a gun that's no longer there.

"Michael?" Ash calls, cautiously. Is there an intruder?

"M-Mommy," Michael says. His voice is muffled by sleep and the wall between them.

Without another thought, Ash makes his way toward Michael's room.

He might not have his gun anymore, and it might be too late for him. But as long as there's still goodness in this world—as long as there are still kids like Michael, and the potential for them to grow into adults who are better than Ash—

Then maybe Ash can push aside his own bitterness, those past memories that have jaded him, in favor of learning from someone who's never tasted their own blood on someone else's tongue.

[linkemon]

Life doesn't discriminate (Ash Lynx x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

"ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ. ɪ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛᴛᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴅ." ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴘɪꜱᴏᴅᴇ 2.

"Life doesn't discriminate Between the sinners and the saints It takes and it takes and it takes  " Wait for it, Hamilton musical

People at the hospital definitely have too much time to think. I should probably call you now.

I remember this day half a year ago. It was so hot that everyone on the streets of New York was practically melting. In fact, come to think of it, that was one of the main reasons I didn't move that day even though damn Dino called me. Mafia bosses don't like to be kept waiting but that's me. Anyway, as it turned out, it was good that I stayed.

— Have you ignored him again?! — Skipper shouted as he stepped through the doorway and then threw himself onto my bed with the force of a tornado.

He handed me a new newspaper. We're getting famous.

— This old man won't tell me what to do — I muttered. — Something new?

— You could say that. I think you should talk to [Reader].

— If she wants something, she can come to me. — I got up and went to the window.

— The problem is that she doesn't want to talk. I came to her place to watch the series...

— You know very well that I don't care — I interrupted.

I knew exactly what it smelled like. [Reader] had a ritual with Skip where they got together every week to watch a hopelessly typical sitcom. They invited me once and, to my delight, it was the first and the last. Apparently I'm too surly, I spoil their fun and ask too many questions. Since then, I've avoided Friday nights at the apartment, which isn't that hard. At least I don't have to listen to all the shouting from the floor above me.

— You don't understand — he insisted. — I came but she didn't let me in. She said she was tired and we should catch up in a week.

— And what's so strange about it? — I jumped on the windowsill.

— She never did that, even when she was tired. Plus, her eyes were swollen. She was 100% crying but when I asked her she started laughing. She won't tell me anything. You need to talk to her.

— You're being dramatic. She probably watched some romantic comedy again and is now roaring. And even if she didn't, why would she tell me if she ignored you?

— Because I'm not you. She really likes you, Ash. I don't know if you don't see it or don't want to see it. Anyway, it doesn't matter, just do it for me and talk to her, okay? — He got ready to leave.

— Fine. — I sighed. — I don't promise when but I'll try.

I was worried about her, although at that moment I probably didn't want to admit it to myself, much less to Skipper. Besides, I had the impression that something more was beginning to emerge between us and I had no intention of developing it. Anyone who found out would use it against me. I was afraid of what this might entail in the current situation.

The Machiavellian plan was precisely that I went upstairs at an ungodly hour, hoping that [Reader] wouldn't open and I'd get it over with. It sounded good, after all, she wasn't likely to be up at two in the morning. It's a pity that all my life plans (except those related to the gang) suck.

— Why the hell are you calling at this hour? — Her voice was hoarse.

She was still wearing the clothes she wore to work. Her hair, always tied in a ponytail, was messy. There was also a bad look on his face. She was rubbing her eyes as if she was sleep-deprived but it seemed like she was trying to hide the fact that she was crying.

— I came to talk — I said bluntly.

— Ash, maybe you'd kindly wait until tomorrow? — She started to close the door but I managed to wedge my foot between it, wedging it shut.

— No I can't. Let's get to the point. What's actually happening to you?

I entered the apartment practically by force and headed to the living room. As I expected, I saw a pile of tissues on the floor and a crumpled blanket on the couch.

I reached for the unfinished ice cream. Strawberry — tasted pretty good.

— Skipper told you? I knew that once I gave up on this marathon, he would go to you. — She sighed. — Nothing happened, I just had a hard day at work. Dealing with customers is not that easy.

— Great. Now I want the real version.

She looked at me reproachfully. Still, I felt I had the right to know what was going on. Since I'm already sharing with her this part of my life that I never confess to anyone else, she should be honest with me too. After she runs away from her father and lives on her own, she no longer recognizes practically anyone from the family apart from her cousin. Let alone confide in anyone.

— Someone stepped on your toes? Some girl went back to that guy who was hitting on you or something? Your cousin called you again and wanted to apologize for your father?

The only way to get an answer.

— They fired me! All right?

The anger was so visible in her eyes. Only for it to be replaced in a moment by something like regret.

— There was this guy coming last week. He started with inappropriate comments. Boss told me to serve him because it was his friend and he got angry when coworker came over instead of me. There has been nothing more until today. — Her voice cracked. — But when he tried... — A short breath. — I just instinctively punched him in the guts, just like you taught me.

Bitter laughter from her lips. I've never heard it before.

— I can lend you the money, you know that.

— And you know very well what I think about it. We're not going back to the topic.

It was grayish area. [Reader] shunned the money the first time I offered it to her. She wanted nothing to do with the gang in any form. I should have been included there too but apparently I was an exception.

— What will you do with it now?

— I'll try to find something. — She shrugged. — I have no other choice. I'm just begging you, Ash, don't get involved in this. Promise me.

I nodded.

What else could I do when she looked at me with those big doe eyes?

She snuggled into me as if I was the last person on Earth. Maybe that's exactly what it was like back then in her little world.

I kept my word and didn't interfere — Shorter arranged everything. I don't consider it cheating. Besides, my moral code has long since become distorted.

We got the job done quietly and naturally. Although "natural" in my sense of the word looked a little different than one might imagine. I poured in where needed, banknotes flowed, some blood flowed, and [Reader] got a normal job interview, a sufficient salary and flexible hours just right for the university. I also had a guarantee that no one would link it to me. The safer for all of us.

When she announced that she would leave us, I acted surprised.

She looked suspiciously in my direction but before I left I reminded her that I had promised.

Even before she left for university, I knew it wouldn't work out. I expected to end what hadn't actually started yet but I didn't anticipate how much it would hurt.

It was killing me to know that she would have a life in which I would no longer play the first fiddle.

I knew she deserved someone better.

Not a person who will never quite put himself back together.

Not a man whore trying to get out of this whole lousy world.

Not someone who has been taking the lives of others for over a dozen years.

Then, on the day she left, I promised her something one last time.

— You'll take care of Skipper, right?

— I won't babysit him.

— Pffft… — She let out something like a laugh mixed with a snort. — You know he takes better care of himself than you do. — Just keep an eye on him.

— Fine.

— I'll see you in six months — she said, walking towards the car.

Now I'm holding this phone and dialing her number. Someone has to do it. No police officer would be suitable for this. I know I'm the only one who should call. But that doesn't make it any easier.

It was the only time in my life when I actually regretted something.

I regretted it because [Reader] up until that point [Reader] thought I always keep my word.

I regretted it because up to that point it seemed to me that [Reader]...

—  Please leave a message after the tone...

[jsprnt]

Healing Hearts PT. 16 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

A/N: sending you all the love you might need on this day <3 enjoy!

WC: 4.217

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

"Right that's perfect." I state, giving Ryan a high five. "You've improved a lot." I tease, patting his shoulder. He smiles, giving me one of his pearly smiles as he stands up.

Recovery day would always be one of my favorite days at this job. No stressing, just rejuvenation.

We did have to keep in mind that we have another match tomorrow, this time for the Carabao Cup against Bournemouth.

We decided to mostly focus on recovery as that was the most important thing right now. Especially, to prevent any problems down the road.

"Of course, you still act like I'm a teenager!" He retorts, looking down at me. Damn, was he getting taller or was I going crazy?

"Can you blame me-"

The sudden feeling of something hitting my leg makes me stop talking, looking down to see a ball roll away from my feet.

I look up to find the perpetrator, a smug Curtis looking at me.

"Excuse me! We're actually busy here!" I shout, giving him a half serious look, folding my arms up to my chest.

"Sorry Doc, two touch got too intense. Right, Harv?" He says, looking over to a equally smug looking Harvey.

"Curt, do you ever leave y/n alone?" I hear, snapping my head to see Virgil walk over. His tatted arm overwhelmingly distracting. An immediate rush of adrenaline flowing through my body.

"I'm sure you would want me to." Curtis replies and I send a cold glare, raising my eyebrows in warning. One more word and I'd rob him of those 500 pounds.

I hear muffled chuckles somewhere in the gym, but don't dare to move another inch.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Dr. Davis right now?" I change the topic, tapping the watch on my wrist.

He huffs, and I kick the ball back to Harvey.

"Come on, go on." I usher Curtis, waving my hand.

I turn to Ryan again, dismissing him with a smile and grab my folder off of the floor. Checking for the next player I had to observe.

I look up, making eye contact with Virgil. The look in his eyes speaking millions of words.

"Your turn." I fake sigh, trying to hide the smile on my face, tapping my shoe on the mat multiple times.

Thankfully, we had to begin at the exercising equipment in the far corner in the room, being able to ignore some glances from the other players. They didn't even try to hide their chuckles and whispers this time as they glanced at us.

I had obviously heard about the bet about us- or whatever Curtis had told me. Our days of hiding our relationship were numbered, and I was scrambling to stretch them.

I decide to act clueless, pretending to be busy with the folder in my hands. Looking up now and then at Virgil. Hoping I was putting on some Angelina Jolie or Lupita Nyong'o acting.

I'd do anything at this point.

"You look good in red." Virgil whispers through a tired grunt and I look up again, raising my brows.

"Really? Right now?" I whisper, looking down at his exercising form.

Droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and gliding down his neck, making contact with the reddish-purple bruises peeking out of his collar.

Yes, my office was a highly dangerous place at this point. Especially, in the morning before training even began.

The entire and I mean the entire gym goes quiet, apart from the foreign song blasting through the speakers. I glance around, almost everyone staring at us.

Virgil follows my eyes, realizing the deafening silence as well.

Damn, I really needed an Oscar at this point.

"Do you guys want exercising tips from your skipper or is winning the Carabao Cup and being in top form more important?" I ask, cocking a brow up to the guys, but I can't help but chuckle at their puzzled faces.

The loud chatter returns again, I laugh again watching them go back to their own exercises.

"You know I didn't do anything." Virgil whispers, voice deep as he looks at me, his hands up in surrender for a moment. He stands up, fixing his shirt. He leans closer to me, whispering.

"Play along with me."

His hand suddenly goes up to his arm, a very convincing pained grunt leaving his lips.

My eyes go wide, confused but looking up at him concerned.

"What's wrong?" I ask my voice a little louder, my hand going up to his arm, hoping he was actually faking it.

"You alright captain?" I hear, Joe coming up to us. His eyebrow raised, other players looking at us as well.

"Think I strained my arm." He replies, closing and opening his fist repeatedly. His eyes looking into mine, a hint of urgency in them.

"I'll check it out in my office." I quickly say, looking back and forth in between the two men.

I let go of Virgil's arm, motioning him to start moving. Taking him to my office, not daring to look behind me.

"Are you being serious?" I ask Virgil as he sits on the treatment table. My hand going up to his arm, the skin of his jacked bicep soft against my fingers.

He chuckles lowly, grabbing my other arm to pull me closer.

"No, just wanted to do this." He mumbles, his hand coming up my chin, his fingers running down my jawline.

He leans in without another word, his lips are on mine tenderly. I gasp into the kiss, but melt into it. Fluttering my eyes shut, letting go of my worries, allowing him to pull me closer. A feeling of desire burning through me, flickering like a raging flame and consuming my senses.

I move my hand up to his chest, fisting his shirt with a firm grip. I pull away, opening my eyes, small annoyed smile on my lips.

"You made me worry for that?" I say, hitting his chest, no malice in my touch.

"You look too good in red." He replies, hands on my waist.

"-and see how no one is looking at us now?"

"Like this made us look less suspicious?" I reply, letting go of his shirt.

"Works for me."

I open my mouth to respond, but my grumbling stomach beats me to it.

"Think it's lunchtime." He teases, and I close my eyes in embarrassment.

"You think?"

"It's weird because I've never really cared about the opinions of strangers. Growing up I wasn't a insecure or very sensitive child. I was pretty independent." I explain, lifting my leg up to the sofa comfortably. Looking at my therapist, her black hair falling in front of her face as she leans forward to look at me.

"Would you say it only happened after adulthood?" She asks, eyes sweet and kind behind her glasses.

I look away, thinking of my answer.

"I think? I made friends easily when I was younger, but when I left my teenage years it started getting more- difficult? Then I started really thinking of the opinions of others."

"Were there any changing factors in your life? Did you move? Change classes? Or another boyfriend maybe? Could you say they're intertwined with your change of heart?"

I bite my lip, humming at her words.

"I did get an internship back then as you know- and met my ex awhile later."

"Right your ex- Theo. You've told me so much about him already- but did he also have a say in how you acted around certain people or in some scenarios?"

"I guess? We went to these dinner parties and other fancy places. We'd meet these business partners of his mother and other wealthy people. I had to essentially play the role of a perfect girlfriend."

"Would you say it made you act more 'aware' of yourself and your actual real personality?"

"I just remember feeling so exhausted and empty after getting home or to our hotel room. Like my soul was sucked out of me or something. It was even worse when he'd started yelling at me for certain things I did, or he'd say that some stupid businessman wasn't liking my attitude or some dumb stuff. I very much argued with him the first couple of times, then I just started taking it like some constructive criticism. It wasn't like that at all though. When our relationship was plastered on the news everywhere- I remember feeling even worse, and to read the opinions of strangers. Those opinions that were already drilled into my mind by own partner- it just got worse."

I explain, fidgeting with the fabric of my trousers. My nails scratching them harshly, feeling my palms get clammy.

"Right- and with your current relationship now- do you see this happen as well?" She says, her voice softening.

"Not at all, I feel the total opposite. Like I can do or say whatever I want with him- and I can. I don't feel like I have to perform or have a fake personality."

"But you'd said you feel the same as in not wanting it to be revealed to the public. He's a footballer if I recall correctly?"

"He is- I just feel like it'll be the same reaction from the public- mean and judgmental."

She hums, fixing her glasses, repositioning them higher on her nose bridge.

"Let's say you have to make a really important decision. Who do you consult? The people closest to you or complete strangers."

"The people closest to me obviously."

"Then you'd have to put it that way, you don't care about the opinions of strangers in personal critical moments- then you shouldn't be allowing their criticism get to you in that critical moment. For example, your relationship being revealed." She finishes, looking at me with a smile on her face.

I stare at her, letting her words sink in. Them clicking like puzzle consisting of a thousand pieces.

I lean back, letting go of my pen, cradling my cramping hand close to me. Ink smudged all over my palm, the corners of the used pages curled up and wrinkled as my eyes dart over the page again.

I had to admit, taking out your frustration and anxiety on paper was insanely relieving and calming. My therapist had recommended it in our last session, and so far I was liking it.

I had four sessions with her so far, and the wisdom the woman had given me was so obvious, but never actually happened to cross my own mind. I was so happy we formed a connection instantly. Especially, since I barely had the mental capacity to look for another therapist.

My glowing laptop screen allows me to see the paper better, as the sun had set awhile ago. The recent emails from my lawyer staring right back at me.

My lawyer had emailed me concerning the break-in. It already felt like a while ago, making me look back at the traumatic incident again. He had given me updates about the case. The police did have camera footage from a nearby shop, which they heavily used to try to identify the guy. Jail time wouldn't be considered, if the intruder was a first offender they'd probably let him go with a fine.

This wasn't the biggest problem, as the only thing I actually wanted was for Theo to get what he'd deserved. The intruder would probably give some bullshit excuse and get off- making me practically lose my mind out of anger. I wanted to put it behind me already, but the fact that Theo would also be let off infuriated me.

My journal now- was scribbled full of my worries. I had written about six full pages, fighting the urge to just scratch out entire pages out of frustration.

I turn off my laptop, rubbing my eye tiredly. I connect my charger to my laptop, and grab my phone. Blowing out the half used vanilla scented candle on my vanity.

I check the time, reading a unnoticed notification. My parcel- or parcels would arrive, brightening up my mood a little.

One thing I had learnt in life was; shopping won't solve the problem, but it definitely will distract you from it- at least for a moment. I'd open the package for the split of second serotonin and that was enough.

The sound of the intercom ringing had me standing up immediately. I run to my door, half tripping on one of my shoes, which I had lazily left there, before checking the cameras and letting the delivery man in and switching on the lights.

The sight of my appearance in the mirror makes me cringe. Not that the delivery man hadn't seen me like this before. I had been insanely busy with work lately and with the ongoing case and the dating rumors. It was honestly taking a toll on me already. I knew it was partially my fault, I could just let go of the case and stop worrying about dating rumors. At the end of the day they weren't things I actually had control over, but it got more frustrating knowing that I didn't have any control in both situations.

I had checked social media- sneakily, redownloading the apps, using my quickly made fake account as I scrolled through the gossip pages.

Most of the reactions were trying to figure out who the "A list footballer" in question was. My heart had skipped a beat when I read Virgil's name, but I had panicked and shut my phone immediately- you couldn't stress me out on the phone I was paying for.

I was still trying to half keep up with my strategy of ignoring the problem, but I slowly started to feel like the problem itself. I promised myself things, just to not even follow up to those promises.

I open my door as I hear a knock, checking the peephole for a second and grabbing the door handle.

"Hi." I greet, grabbing the two big parcels from the poor, all too familiar man.

Shit, maybe I did have a problem...

"You've been buying too many things young lady." He replies, adjusting the cap on his head.

I chuckle embarrassed, setting down the packages next to me on the floor.

"I'm sorry sir, will try to minimize my shopping. Would you like anything? A drink?" I say, smiling at him. I felt bad for the man, even though he was just doing his job.

"No, I'm alright. Have a good evening." He says smiling and turning away, as he presses on the elevator button.

I watch him leave, the elevator door opening with a sound. To my surprise, I see Virgil walking out of it. His face partially covered by his scarf and a black beanie on his head as he walks up to me. Greeting the delivery man kindly.

"Is that the delivery man? He was here last Monday as well wasn't he?" He asks, pointing behind him as he stands in front of me.

I step back, kicking the parcels out of the way and opening the door wider to let him in.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, ignoring him flaming my shopping addiction, now a little self- conscious of my appearance, trying to cover my face with my hoodie. He'd shown up without word many times, only not when I- or the house looked like a dumpster fire.

"Missed my girl." He says, voice deep as he clicks his tongue, stepping into my house and grabbing my wrist to close the door behind me.

"You saw me at work, literally like four hours ago."

"And?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my cheek. His hands going up to remove his scarf and jacket, hanging them on the rack.

"You could've called- I look like this." I say, pointing at my appearance.

"And the house is a mess." I add, sighing.

"And?" He says again, his hands coming up to my shoulders. His brown eyes staring back into mine.

I sigh, shaking my head at him, a soft smile forming on my lips.

"Have you eaten dinner yet?"

I shake my head, his eyes darting to the parcels on the floor.

"How about you show me what you bought this time and I'll order dinner?" He suggests, running his thumb softly on my cheekbone.

"Can I pick?"

"Of course."

"Okay- ready?" She shouts, walking into the living room. A black mini-dress on her body, ending right in the middle of her thighs. The square neckline giving it the right amount of sexy, the back still unzipped clumsily.

She walks up to Virgil, who's sitting on her sofa. Man-spreading comfortably as he looks her up and down, his tatted arm folded on his other one, up to his chest.

"Can you zip the back?" She asks, turning her back to him as he stands up with a low hum. His fingers ghosting her skin as he plays with the zipper.

"Turn for me love." He mutters, close to her ear.

She turns facing him, adjusting the dress and smoothing down the fabric. It accentuating her body perfectly.

"How is it?" She asks, following his eyes roaming her body.

A low hum leaves his lips, his hand coming to wrap around her waist, other hand traveling down to her behind, pulling her closer.

"Where are you going in this?" He murmurs, longing eyes on hers.

"I'm getting drinks with Clara and Sofia tomorrow. Why? Is it- bad?" She asks, voice in a whisper. A hand fidgeting with the fabric, feeling unsure.

"No, you look too good." He whispers lowly, squeezing her waist delicately.

"Really?" She smiles, face lightning up immediately as her eyes roam over his face.

"Now I'll have to worry about my girl being taken from me." He worries, his hand coming up to his chin, as if to ponder.

She rolls her eyes playfully, tapping his arm repeatedly.

"Like you take off your shirt in front of camera's before asking me. You get thirsted over by the entire internet, let me have this." She tuts, fluttering her eyelashes in an animated way.

"Oh I will. Only after this."

He says, raising his brows, lifting her up and throwing her onto the sofa carefully. His fingers digging into the fabric of her dress as he tickles her.

"Okay! Stop, you know I'm ticklish." She exclaims, tears forming in her eyes from laughter. Struggling to hold his hand back. He listens, pulling back and hovering over her body.

"I also got matching heels." She breathes out, escaping out of his hold, and grabbing the shoe box off the table. She grabs the heels out of the box, turning towards him. The diamond buckles and details glistening in the overhead light.

He walks up to her, grabbing the heels and bending down. She leans forward, placing her hands on his broad shoulders, pushing her weight on him to balance herself.

He unbuckles the heels, slipping them onto her feet and buckling them up again.

"Thank you." She says, letting go of him and watching him stand back up.

"Do a little twirl for me love." He suggests, watching her intently as she does. A low whistle leaving his lips. His hands traveling down to the small of her back.

"Can you skip the drinks with the girls and just come over to mines instead." He says, eyes flashing with lust and desire.

She laughs, shaking her head as her hand comes to pat his arm.

"Nope, I can come over after though?" She teases, already trying to wiggle out of his hold as a joke.

He opens his mouth to reply, but the sound of the intercom makes them remember the food delivery.

"I'll change!" She shouts, already running back to her room. He watches her leave surprised, his tongue running over his cheek annoyed before he gets the door.

"Good food always makes me sleepy." She mumbles, her head in his lap. Thankful for their stomachs being full and satisfied.

He runs his fingers down her face, his thumb smoothing down her eyebrows, moving down to other facial features, humming in agreement.

"What is it? What are you thinking of?" She asks, noticing how quiet he is, looking up him.

"Just thinking." He mumbles, looking distracted.

"About?"

"Us."

She huffs, poking his firm abdomen.

"Tell me." She say impatiently.

He clicks his tongue, finally making eye contact with her.

"I just came from speaking to my agent. Talked about us with the publicist."

"What did they say?" She asks, sitting up, facing him.

He shifts, his hand coming up to squeeze her shoulder. Looking at her with a serious expression.

She furrows her brows, looking confused.

"You're worrying me. Tell me, come on." She urges fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, trying to read his face.

"They told me that there was an article released this morning- about us, with pictures." He explains, trying to soothe her with soft caresses on her cheek.

Her eyes go wide, her grip on his shirt tightening as she gasps. Her heart starting to thump excessively faster in her chest.

"They- know?" She stutters, blinking repeatedly, feeling panic surge up her body.

"I'm sorry baby." He whispers, looking at her, his hand traveling to her nape to soothe her further.

"What did it say?" She asks, millions of thoughts running through her mind.

"It was about our date back home, in Amsterdam. Pictures of us getting into the car." He explains, voice softer than usual.

"Did they identify me too?" She asks, hoping it wasn't the case.

To her horror he nods, trying to calm her down with soft shushes.

"Normally, they wouldn't be able to identify you this fast, but the article mentions the blind item and- that piece of shit. So, they put two and two together, and probably bought the rights to some pictures secretly taken by someone who approached them."

She breathes out shakily, letting go of his shirt and looking away. Her eyes noticeably full of worry and panic.

"What are you worried about love?" He coaxes, continuing to run his thumb on her cheek.

"What people would think and say." She mutters, tears accumulating in her eyes.

"Why does that matter to you?" He asks, voice as calm as possible to not disturb the fact that she's taking in the privacy violating news.

"Last time, it was bad- like really really really-"

"Hey, it's alright. You've got me this time. I'll make sure with my agent and publicist that it won't be bad. Besides, you know our supporters won't care right? The criticism will come from strangers at the end of the day. Why should we string importance to what they say?" He says, trying to calm her down with his words.

"I just keep thinking about those comments from the past, they still hurt." She says, voice cracking unpleasantly.

"I understand that love. Let's just stay off of our phones, yeah? We'll figure it out together, I promise."

"I'm not some gold digging bitch or whore-" she whispers, tears twinkling in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill and holding her feelings back. Like a dam trying to keep its ragging waters back, a crack forming at its base. Threatening the very purpose of it.

"You're not those things. It's alright sweetheart, I'll take care of it yeah?" He promises, practically boiling on the inside. The fact that anyone could call his sweet girlfriend those words, making him both mad and his heart ache for her.

She sighs, remembering her conversation with her therapist again. Why care about the opinions of people whom you don't value, right?

"Well what about work? They'll look at me weirdly. Oh my god- how am I going to look at them in their faces." She groans, placing her head into the crook of his neck, now straddling him.

"Why are you embarrassed of me?" He says, trying find some humor to cheer her up, even if it's just a bit. 

"No, of course not! It just looks like I got the job to fuck one of their players-" she exclaims, frustration gnawing at her.

"Alright, alright I get it. Let's take it step by step hm?" He suggests, making her look at him again.

"HR and Klopp already know. It's not like the players are fully unaware of something going on between us, you're aware of the little bet the younger guys have on us, right?"

She nods, biting on her lip as she still cringes at the thought of it being officially known by the club.

"That means they're fine with it. I promise." He assures, running his hand up and down her back.

"If HR and Klopp are fine with it, other staff will be okay with it too. No worrying needed love."

She sighs, placing her head onto his chest. Pondering over every single thing he'd just said.

Thinking of having to face her worst nightmare tomorrow. Something she'd dreaded since they started dating. She could only ignore and dismiss her problems until a certain amount of time, then she'd obviously have to face them, eventually.

“Did I at least look good in those pictures?”

[mrhowells]

Smallville 4x14

I love this episode a lot🥹

THAT'S ADORABLE😭😭

"You're gonna be fine. I know you're gonna be fine. Everyone I've ever hit was alright."

Lois -everyone I've ever hit was alright- Lane:

Clark really sleeps on the couch now that Lois lives there? LMAOOOO

the way he immediately smiles when he sees the dog I can't🥹🥹

"You hit him? With your car?" "No, with my fist🙄🙄"

CLARK YOUR FACE-

"Actually, I think it might be fun to have a dog around."

HE'S A MENACE, HE'S A DISGRACE, HE'S A FUCKING CLOWN, I LOVE HIMMMMMMMM

I'm crying

"I don't know. It's just kind of hard to be myself with her around."

that's so ironic though because apart from hiding his powers he is VERY himself around her

I need Tom Welling to stop smiling on my screen please and thank you, I'm not strong enough for this😭

ugh😩

Chloe helping Clark with his excuses, love to see it🥹 He's so bad at them he needs all the help he can get💀

Let me introduce you to my parents who have been married for about 30 years now:

"Let's see. He's annoying, and I can't get within ten feet of him without getting sick. I think we should call him Clarkie."

have I mentioned how much I love them before?

"I spent all morning on these."

they're both so cute🥹🥹

LMAOOOOOO he finds her so annoying

hsajaksjaksj LOOK AT HIS HAND IN THE SECOND IMAGE, HE'S SO DONE I'M SCREAMING

No because if I keep going like this I'll screenshot every single time they say something or even look at each other💀

Lois: You could be Skipper😇

Clark: *fake ass smile* anyway-

STAHP I'M SCREAMING

he's about to throw hands💀

This is so confusing, I thought Jason's mom orchestrated the entire meeting with Lana but now she wants him away from her?

"Paranoia is not a very attractive quality in a woman."

Umm okay, AND? I mean I don't give a shit about Genevieve but this is such a dumb statement, as if she's supposed to give a fuck about what's "attractive" to Lex or others, like what?

Sometimes he sounds like one of those "pick up artists" that the internet makes fun of all the time, I'm sorry💀💀

I. LOVE. THIS.

That's the way someone talks to their own kid, not their guest and I love that because Lois clearly lacks parental love. Martha & Lois will always be so special to me😭😭

"Remember when Clark did that? He was only... three." LMAOOOO

Lex is clearly losing patience with Clark😬

Can I join this family pls look at themmmm

Martha is such a badass actually

I'm glad Lana overheard that whole conversation between Jason and his mother, now I'm just hoping they'll give her more agency instead of making her a passive character and her own storyline.

(edit: so she did NOT hear what they were talking about🤡🤡 At least she saw it)

Clark is such a little shit😭

Still arguing about dog names🤡

"Hold on there Forrest Gump, what are you gonna do, run?" LOL

She's like nuh uh, get in the car dude AND HE LISTENS💀💀💀

How are they acting like they're been married for decades???

NOT AN ACTUAL QUESTION BC I KNOW HOW AND I'LL TELL YOU: they're comfortable around each other even if they don't realize it

🎶and I will go down with this ship🎶 (EXCEPT I DON'T EVEN HAVE TO BECAUSE IT'S FUCKING SAILING, IT WILL NEVER GO DOWNNNNN)

let's move on

"What is this, another one of your famous hunches or are we just on a little scenic route?"

"Okay, stop here."

"Wha- where??"

"HERE. Stop here."

"OKAY."

>>>MARRIED.

they sound like my grandparents💀

LOOK AT MY LIL POOKIES INVESTIGATING STUFF TOGETHER🥺

YEEEEET

I need to know where Clark gets his clothes bc that stuff withstands literally anything💀

AKJASJKAKSL STAHP😭

"He (the dog) saved my life. I'll take my chances on his loyalty." Ooof, is he calling out Lex👀

what is Lionel trying to do?🧐

CUTE.

CUTE.

Clark is happy = I'm happy, it's really that simple

this episode is premium, top tier chef's kiss EXCELLENT

[squaloropera]

I finally made a blog, so I think I’m gonna make a post with the things I’ve noticed about Banana Fish that I haven’t seen anyone else talk about :D

(This won’t be very comprehensible, sorry, I’m autistic and gay and there are creatures in my air vents)

°Firstly, I used to wonder why on earth -after all he’d been through- Ash feared pumpkins of all things. Sure, it was something that frightened him as a kid (I’m not one to dispute childhood fears being silly, I used to be scared of my mother’s eyebrows when I was little) but you’d think that he’d maybe have gotten over it by now, right? Well, I have a few theories, but I think the most logical is one I have where it’s just him clinging to the last fear he had that couldn’t actually hurt him. He’s scared of pumpkins because pumpkins can’t molest him or kill him. At least, that’s my theory.

°Next, just want to point out that after Shorter dies Ash starts wearing his sunglasses. :D

°After cross-referencing the image of Skipper being shot and a diagram of a child’s internal anatomy, I’ve come to the conclusion that if he’d gotten immediate medical attention, he could theoretically have lived. To explain; Skipper got shot on his chest, around his collarbones. This missed his heart, from what I can see, but got his collarbones (obviously) and his lungs. While he’d have had shattered collarbones, probably nerve damage and a bilateral pneumothorax, those things are survivable when treated quickly enough. We saw him ‘die’ when his eyes dulled, sure, but honestly seeing as it missed his vitals he was probably passing out from pain. Meaning if someone had called an ambulance, he could have lived. But instead he bled out because people thought he was already dead.

°This manga was deliberately made to contradict the themes seen very often in shojo manga of rape porn among gay men. It was kind of jumping in the face of the industry and screaming “This isn’t fucking okay!!!”. Just figured I’d give you something a little less depressing in the post idk lol.

°Not a sad point, but why does nobody talk about how Shorter slowly gets deyassified in the manga. First appearance, he has a Mohawk, earrings, a heart on his face, a fur coat, the mix. Next appearance, he has the Mohawk but he’s lost the earrings, heart and coat. After that he looks like Walter White. Who did this to him. Who did that to my wife. Own up.

°I’ve seen people dunk on and defend Yut Lung, and I’m not sure who’s side I’m on, but I’d like to point out the fact that in the manga he was way more outwardly remorseful about Shorter’s death. I’m not sure why they changed it, but I prefer the manga.

°Also, Yut Lung in the manga was ᵗⁱⁿʸ

°Also why does nobody talk about how in the manga Shorter had his shirt and shades when he dies, and in the anime they took them. How am I supposed to pay attention to his death when his boobs are out. Come on now

I’ll make another one of these if I come up with more, idk, but I just wanted to ramble. Hope it was interesting, at least.

[seaside-writings]

Happy Halloween, all you wonderfully, wicked people!

I have always loved found-footage horror movies; something about feeling like you’re with the characters is honestly one of the creepiest things about them.

So here's a prompt list created from one my favorite horror movies "The Blair Witch Project".

I hope this prompt list brings you inspiration wherever it is needed, and like always if you do use these prompts please tag me so I can see what you’ve made!

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Lots of Love & Wishes: Celia 🧡🎃🖤🕸💜🔮

“I’m scared to close my eyes, I’m scared to open them, we’re gonna die out here,”

-

“I could help you, but I’d rather stand here and record,”

-

“I heard two noises coming from two separate areas of space over there. One of them could have been an owl, but the other one sounded like a cackling,”

-

“ I insisted we weren’t lost. I insisted we keep going. I insisted that we walk south,”

-

“What bugs me out is that we’re so damn deep in the woods, and people are gonna try and come out here and mess with us, then they gotta have something wrong with them, and I’m not gonna play with that,” “ But how do we know it was people?” “Well, even if it wasn’t, I’m not gonna play with that either!”

-

“Give me the compass. You’ve betrayed us all beyond. Way fucking beyond,” “Bullshit. You betrayed us when you couldn’t get us out of the woods last night,” “Yeah, thanks,”

-

“I hate crossing streams on logs. If I never cross another stream on a log for the rest of my life, I will die a happy girl!”

-

“You’re lost, you’re angry in the woods, and no one is here to help you. There’s a witch, and she keeps leaving shit outside your door. There’s no one here to help you! She left little trinkets, you took one of them, she ran after us. There’s no one here to help you! We walked for 15 hours today, we ended up in the same place! There’s no one here to help you, that’s your motivation! That’s your motivation!”

-

“I found some cigarettes. I found them all the way in the bottom of my pack. We’re still alive ‘cause we’re smoking,”

-

“I want to avoid being cheesy, here. I want to avoid any cheese,”

-

“We’ve exhausted all of our natural resources!”

-

“I don’t believe in witches and airy-fairy stuff like that,”

-

“It’s not the same on film, is it? I mean, you know it’s real, but it’s like looking through the lens gives you some sort of protection from what’s on the other side,”

-

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!?!”

-

“What are some of your favorite things to do?” “Well, on Sundays, I used to like to go hiking, but now…”

-

“I see why you like this video camera so much,” “You do?” “It’s not quite reality. It’s like a totally filtered reality. It’s like you can pretend everything’s not quite the way it is,”

-

“Ok I’m not allowed to smoke, but he’s allowed to fart as much as he wants?” “I didn’t give him any fart allowance,”

-

“How’s east?” “East? “Yeah, we’ve been going south all this time. How’s east? “Wicked Witch of the West, Wicked Witch of the East. Which one was bad? “Wicked Witch of the West was the bad one,” “Then we should go east,”

-

“ I am so sorry! Because it was my fault. I was the one who brought them here,”

-

“Mmmm. Marshmallows. Soft,”

-

“We have enough battery power to run a small third-world country,”

-

“You gonna write us a happy ending?”

-

“Flames are licking you like the devil,”

-

“Woke up this morning, just like two seconds ago, and there are piles of rocks outside of our tent. There are three, actually,” “Are you seriously fucking positive those weren’t there when we set up camp last night?” “I am seriously fucking positive these were not here. How would we’ve, like, just made a campsite in between three piles of rocks, just by coincidence?”

-

“Screw that, you think you guys are heroes for killing innocent people?”

-

“Are you eating a dead leaf?” “Yes,”

-

“Let’s not call him “the Captain,” you illiterate TV people. It’s “the Skipper,”

-

“They’re people fucking with our heads,” “But no one knows we’re out here,” “Yeah, but have you ever seen 'Deliverance’?”

-

“What’s with that slime on your backpack?” “That’s not slime, it’s just water. No wait, it is slime, what the fuck?”

-

“Yeah, it was like a serious cackling,” “See, my problem is that I sleep like a fucking rock,” “If I heard a cackling, I would have shit in my pants!”

-

“Whatever it is, it knows that he is gone,” “If that was him, he would’ve said where he was,” “Whoever it was sounded like him,”

[lonely-lighthouse-keeper]

JOURNAL OF THE LIGHTHOUSE STATION AT CACHALOT COVE

[[ log 48 ]]

~Partly Cloudy Conditions All Day, Slight Drizzle 1420-1600~

~Wind Speeds Up to12 km/h~

Time of writing this log is 2154

Duties done at the station:

𓇼 Fog Watch

𓇼 Polishing of the Glass

𓇼 Mail Check

as it turns out, word had gotten around that the keeper of cachalot cove was looking for some movie recomendations! i have placed a letter down below, writter by @skipper-the-selkie

Well my friend, I like to think myself quite the movie enthusiast. Here's my list for you, a lighthouse keeper who is 100% human *Song of the sea - this has no real people in it, it is animated. a boy goes on a journey through Ireland to help his sister who is a selkie and save the spirit world. * The secret of Roan Inish - I haven't watched this one, and don't know the plot, but I've heard good things! * The little mermaid - a young mermaid trades her voice for human legs to seek her true love. there is an animated version and a live-action one. Personally I feel that it doesn't quite fit the realities of the mermaid world, at least where I'm from. Not that I would know, of course. Haha! Ahem. * Wolfwalkers - this is another animated film from the same people who made song of the sea. Its absolutely beautiful, one of my favourites. * Barbie - if you haven't heard, this film is brand new and very popular right now! I loved it to pieces, although I don't know how you would feel about it. Best to be up to date with everything though, eh? Thats all I could think of now, friend! I hope you enjoy them, if you do in fact decide to watch them. ~~Skipper, definitely 100% human not a selkie nope

Dearest Skipper,

I thank thee for the reccomendations! I am much fascinated by the mermaid movie, and the selkie movie as well! I've heard that humans have stories and tales aboout them, but never figured they would becoming moving pictures! Much to learn, much to learn.

𓇼 Song of the Sea~~ I will start off by saying what delightful and beautiful pictures this was! I very much disliked the little boy, strange thing, and poor Saoirse having to deal with him. I did also enjoy the fact that the dad was a lighthousekeeper! Made myself feel a tad bit more noticed. The grandmother, reminded me very much about both of mine, in the way how they both deeply care about their grandchildren, always have tea, and the overal look matched one of my grandmothers when they're on land. There was feelings of comfort and pain as well, hearing the song in the begining being sung in the Gaelic Language. It is not often that those of backgrounds like these are even slightly represented. I do not talk about this to many, but my family came from the Western Slavic regions, and although my father has done much to keep our roots away from me, there is still a connection that I wish to keep. A splendid movie nonetheless!

I only had time to watch that one today, however I shalt tackle the one about the mermaids tomorrow!

May the Seas Guide You~~

[sumitava3]

The Kiwiman Daryl Mitchell is gonna be the most crucial player for CSK tonight, he's gonna dictate the terms,the fate of CSK in the game tonight. Replacing a stalwart like Ambati Rayudu at CSK is very tough, he's been a true legend of the league and to fill in the big shoes, he's the most suitable candidate because he bats in the middle order and plays spin, pace both equally well, has the timing game as well as the power game to hit effortless sixes down the ground. The potential is there, the performance has also been there for the Blackcaps. Now it's high time tonight to start replicating those in the CSK colours and repay the huge faith shown towards him, the continuous backing has to reap the Rewards tonight onwards. If he doesn't get going, CSK can't win on flat decks and shouldn't dream of clinching the record sixth title they're running running after. The bowling is the weaker side, and with the uncertainty over the availability of Pathirana, it's evident that you've to score 230+ at least at the Wankhede against this destructive MI batting lineup and Mitchell holds the key for CSK if they wanna reach that score and compete neck to neck, otherwise the game is over in the first innings itself, more so considering a full loaded gun, a magician named Jasprit Bumrah will be charging at you from the MI arsenal. The simple funda is chasing at the Wankhede, and I'd love to see Santner bowling in place of Theekshana if Baby Malinga doesn't turn up on the ground tonight. CSK will be desperate to see their two most vital weapons bowling at the death in tandem to give them some respite and a glimpse of hope against this vintage, clinical and professional MI unit. CSK badly needs Mitchell to fire tonight, he has to come good, come to the party finally, he's had a poor run up till now but they've backed him and will continue because there's no better option than Mitchell at 4, replacing Ambati. Hopefully the big game player will come to the rescue of the yellow army. Mitchell has to play long and big. He's an asset for CSK and will be the most vital wicket for MI to clinch the game in the CSK batting innings to choke them so Expect Hardik to save Boom's overs, bowl him only one in the powerplay and unleash the speedster as soon as Mitchell comes to the crease. You've to utilise your best weapon differently every game depending upon the demands of the particular match, you've to be adaptable and felxible, there's nothing called predetermined in captaincy or cricket. You've to go with your gut feel, and back your instincts, take the onus and make those instant brave calls when it's close calls and the intensity is really creeping on on the ground at the moment and you gotta have a plan B or Plan C, D in the el classico, this is a high pressure game and it's gonna decide mi rising up on the ladder, so the context is very big and with the rich legacy of the two teams, expect an intense battle, a nailbiter on the cards for all of us. You can't comment like I don't mind losing the IPL final to Mahibhai, it's written on the destiny because of the personal camaraderie when you're getting paid a whopping sum for being a professional and a skipper of a team with a rich legacy in the league, to go with. So fasten your seatbelts, it's gonna be a mouthwatering clash at our hands

[wildechild17]

Mag 7 wip

something I'm working on as a side project for NaNo, decided I'd share a little (not really) excerpt here, just because i could

Sam Chisolm wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but as he stood in the sparsely decorated apartment in London, it wasn’t… this.

It was, in fact, sparse. There was a small kitchen, a couch with a pullout that looked slept in, a bathroom, and a tiny closet. It was by no means a luxury place, but it was just one level above being condemned, if you asked Sam.

The man’s heart broke a little as he took it in. There was no sign of the occupant he was looking for, not that he knew who he was looking for—his boss had simply given him this address and said the person who lived here would be a good addition to the team if Sam could convince them.

Given the fact of who the rest of the team was made up of, Sam had two guesses as to whose place he was standing in. Past experiences told him one was more likely than the other.

Something caught his eye, a leatherbound book sitting among the blankets on the pullout. Curious, Sam wandered over, reaching for the book. He flipped through it, noting it was some mix between a journal and a scrapbook. The first entry dated back to just over eleven years ago, and Sam couldn’t help but read.

9-29-12

I’ve always known my family had powers… how could I not, when mom uses hers to heal those in our family, and when both she and gran have told me about other members of our… bloodline? Apparently, the blood is important… and their abilities.

I just assumed, like everyone before me, that it skipped generations… Instead, I woke up this morning with my own abilities. Powers… magic? I like the idea of calling it magic. Who knows, I may have them sooner and didn’t realize it… Skipper had died during the night, and when mom and Aunt Elenore asked who I was greeting this morning because to them it was empty air… I told them Skip, and I was then informed he’d passed in his sleep, so how could I be seeing him?

One quick test later, my mom declared that a) I had magic, and b) it could be classified as necromancy. That’s… a terrifying, truthfully, prospect, but… I can handle it. I hope.

At least it’s the weekend before fall break, so mom can help me figure out how to start managing it. I’m in senior year, so it’s not like I’ll have to hide it from the others as school for long. If I go to college, I can get by with strictly online classes, I think.

Mom suggested I use a journal to track my progress, but I’ve never been the best at keeping records, even school wise. Hopefully with something to keep track of, that’ll change.

I’ll make another entry when something of importance happens, I guess.

10-10-12   10-9-12/10-10-12

What the fuck is my life, truly?

With the influx of my powers, came something else… my memories. I guess necromancy and reincarnation can go hand in hand, because this isn’t the first time I’ve lived. I started having dreams and flashbacks during break, of an older version of myself set back in the Wild West. I thought it was just some weird dream/fantasy thing since… well, since I’m sort of obsessed with that era, anyways, but… no. It all came rushing back to me, today, during fifth period, which is my study block this year.

We got a new student… which, in a small town like Salem, is kind of a cause for chatter, and I wasn’t really paying attention until the guy sat next to me. When I finally looked at him…

Son of a bitch… it’s Vasquez. It all came back to me—Sam Chisolm, Rose Creek, Bart Bogue…

I’m… sort of embarrassed to say that I had a total breakdown right then and there. Mom actually had to come and pick me up early, it was so bad. It’s super late (early?), right now, almost three in the morning, and I’ve been catatonic all afternoon, according to her. So, I guess all these events really happened yesterday?

I’m getting distracted… I told her what had happened, what’s been happening, and she… didn’t seem totally surprised. Fact is, she’s the one who gave me the idea that my reincarnation ties in with my powers. Something about death being involved, which… makes sense, in a weird way.

Mom offered to keep me out of school for the rest of the week, so I can recover, but… I don’t want to do that. Maybe a day or two, but not a week. I want to talk to Vas so I can Vasquez, so I can sort of explain things to him. Hopefully, it’ll go well…

10-13-12 Update: It… I didn’t explain the powers thing to him. I didn’t want to freak him out, but I did tell him why I had my breakdown on Monday. He understood, because when his memories came back to him, he was a wreck for a while too.

He came over for the afternoon, and mom and Aunt Elenore absolutely fell in love with him. Bastard put on the damn charm. We didn’t get any schoolwork done, not like we really planned to, but we did catch up on things. What’s been going on in our modern lives, and he told me a little about what happened after I died in Rose Creek… His family travels a lot in this life, for his dad’s work. He’s got two siblings, an older sister and younger brother. I couldn’t resist and had to make a crack about his ‘three Maria’s’… he asked where mine was.

… I told him Maria died when we were kids. He sobered up pretty quick… guess he could tell it was a sore subject.

Anyways… my magic practice is progressing well. Right now, I can just see spirits, which is weird because they look like just regular people—for the most part. I’ve seen a few grisly sights, but I’m learning how to pick their energies apart from the living, so I don’t make a fool of myself in public.

Oddly enough, Vasquez has a couple ghosts hanging around him…

Sam flipped through the journal, heart twisting in his chest as he noticed a few entries more prominent than others. One, over Christmas break, detailing why Vasquez had ghosts—his father was a hunter of the supernatural, and the revelation apparently caused a rift between the two boys before Vasquez’s father himself had put things to right. He’d put the hunting behind him and was trying to settle down with his family… he could have never expected his son to befriend a witch—which, that had led to Joshua admitting about himself…

Prom. They stopped dancing around their feelings for each other and became official, and that entry made Sam smile, as well as the photos of that night that accompanied the entry. They did make a handsome couple. That was where Vasquez’s writing started slipping in on a few pages, offering extra insight or his own commentary to whatever Joshua was writing.

Graduation. Maybe too quick to those who don’t know about… us, but Vasquez gave me a bloody promise ring tonight. (you’re not actually complaining, are you? Fuck you, I’m keeping it forever thought so) and detailing a rough plan of the future. Plans to stay in Salem long enough to get through college, before moving. Maybe they’d find where Rose Creek was, if it was somewhere they could move to, settle down there. Ideas about where the rest of their motley crew were…

College. Joshua went into Anthropology and the Occult (seriously, guero? Bite me, texican), and Vasquez Art and Architecture (you know there’s a joke about cliches in there somewhere, right? Don’t you dare). Joshua seemed to develop a minor side hobby (?) in helping people with their dead loved ones, the spirits who hadn’t crossed over because of unfinished business (Jennifer Love Hewitt, who?) When they’d both finished their studies… Joshua was the one who proposed.

There were photos of various moments, in those early years. High school included prom, graduation, senior trip, homecoming week. After high school showed moving into their first apartment together, as they worked through college, domestic moments, moments with their families, college graduation, of the proposal, and later, multiple photos from the wedding. Tickets to various date locations, movies, and festivals, were taped in as well. It seemed Joshua (and by some small extension, Vasquez) was eager to keep track of everything.

But just after their return from their honeymoon in August of twenty-fifteen, the entries stopped. The next one wasn’t dated until January of twenty-sixteen. Reading it, Sam felt his heart stop and blood run cold.

1-13-16 I’m sorry, Ale… I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t… couldn’t save you. If I was faster… maybe you’d still be here. Maybe I could have… God, I’m crazy for thinking it… brought you back. If you’d wanted it… if maybe I’d seen you… your spirit, at least, maybe one more time, to ask…

There are limitations to my abilities… I can bring people back from the dead, but only within a set time… I didn’t make it with you… And I’m so sorry.

You must have crossed over. That’s the only reason I can think of to not see your ghost… it’d be just like you, too… you wouldn’t have wanted me to see you like that. I know you wouldn’t have. I know, but… goddammit it still hurts, you son of a bitch. If I could have just said goodbye…

… you were gone too soon. And those bastards… they’ll pay. Eventually, they’ll pay.

I’m sorry.

I… did find where Rose Creek is. It’s still a small town but thriving in today’s age. I’ll… I’ll go there. For us… for you.

Maybe I’ll find some sort of peace there.

Silence, for a few months, before another entry was made.

5-23-16 God, what have I done? I didn’t… I wasn’t… I didn’t mean for that to happen… I didn’t know I could do that.

I need to get away. From everyone. Anyone that I can hurt…

I’m so sorry Vas…

After that, there were no more entries. Sam flipped through the remaining blank pages and found nothing. Frowning, Sam went back to the last entry, and wondered what the hell might have happened for it to exist.

Actually, he wondered what happened in those last two entries in general—one was obvious. The other… not so much. He’d have to ask Matthew to investigate the dates mentioned, give or take a day or two. Surely, there’d be some sort of record online, somewhere—

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

Sam startled, the book falling from his hands and back on to the bed. He whirled around, coming eye to eye with Joshua Faraday. The first thing the older man noticed was how tired the redhead looked, with bags beneath his eyes, and skin pale. He stood as though the weight of the world was laid on his shoulders, but it didn’t distract from the, frankly, intimidating glare he was fixing Sam with.

“I know I locked the door when I left,” Joshua continued, and then his gaze flicked down to the journal on the bed, and his anger grew. He stood straight, and Sam swore the room grew colder and darker as Joshua set a bag of possible groceries on the floor, “You went looking through my personal things?!”

“Now, hold on just a minute, son—” Sam began.

“I’m not your son,” Joshua hissed, and there was no doubt about it—Joshua was altering the space around them. His eyes were beginning to glow, a toxic green that caused the hairs on the back of Sam’s neck to rise, “What are you doing here, Chisolm?”

“I came to offer you a job,” Sam said, quickly, and Joshua drew up short. A brief look of bafflement crossed his features as he stared at the older man, “That is, if you want it.”

The redhead crossed his arms, eyes narrowing.

“Explain,” he said, shortly, so Sam did.

He explained how he’d been tasked with bringing a crew together (yes, the rest of the Rose Creek bunch, for the most part…) and that while Joshua’s name hadn’t come up directly, Sam’s own bosses had suggested Joshua could be an integral part of the team. This team would be dealing with threats across the world, both natural and supernatural. Clearly, Joshua would be a good addition, if he wanted to join.

“But… I’m not pressing you to,” Sam said, quietly. He glanced down at the journal, then back to Joshua, “You’ve clearly been through a lot already.”

Joshua’s expression darkened, lips thinning, but he said nothing. Just stared at Sam with those eyes of his still glowing. But he was silent, and Sam took it for a good thing.

“… would you have come for me, if I hadn’t been brought up?” Joshua asked.

Sam blinked at the question, but answered nonetheless: “Eventually, yes. It wouldn’t have been fair not to include you and—” he faltered, only because Joshua pinned him with a venomous glare, “We want everyone we can get. We worked so well together, before.”

Silence, again, and Sam could tell Joshua was right on the edge of accepting the offer, he just needed one last push.

“Who killed him?” Sam asked, pitching his own voice low—after all, someone had mess with those he cared about. He was angry thinking about it; Joshua startled, so Sam asked again, “Who did it? We can go after the sons of bitches with you.”

Joshua’s jaw clenched.

“Hunters,” he ground out. “Ones who didn’t approve of his relationship with… with me. I don’t… I don’t have exact names, though.”

“Then come with me,” Sam offered, holding out his hand. “Together, we’ll help you figure out who did it, and we’ll see them get what they deserve.”

Joshua looked down at Sam’s extended hand, before he looked up at the man himself. The temperature returned to normal, and the shadows fell away. The glow in the witch’s eyes faded, but they still burned with anger and determination…

Joshua took Sam’s hand.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Chisolm.”

[set-phasers-to-whump]

Day 7: Post a link to your favorite whump fic of all time (or reblog it and/or make a list of them!)

ok i decided to limit myself to just 10 of my all time favorite whump fics. these are ones that i return to all the time, that i reread whenever i'm having a bad day, you know the vibe. all of them are very dear to me and i hope someone else will enjoy them too!!! i'll put them under a readmore since this got a bit long :)

Caged by Cargo - 911. Cargo is one of my absolute favorite writers and i've been in love with this fic for a longass time. the emotions and caretaking are absolutely top tier, and there's a lovely blend of emotional and physical whump. summary: "As Eddie stands in his kitchen after returning home from tonight's fight, he finally cracks. He starts falling apart and he knows there's only one person in the entire world he trusts to pick up the pieces. It's why he's dialling Buck's number before he even knows he has his phone in his hands."

Bloodshot Soul by OrionLady - bourne series. this one straight up has made me cry i can't even lie. it's a beautiful and very genuine exploration of the characters and the emotional whump is wonderfully painful. summary: "He cannot fathom why a crusty old skipper would care so much about a strange John Doe he fished out of the water, why he would smile and touch his shoulder and feed him pie. Then again, there are many things he doesn’t understand yet. The closer he and Giancarlo get, the less he wants to remember. An exploration into Jason and Giancarlo’s friendship during his two weeks aboard the fishing trawler."

In The Shadows of The Night by MissCrazyWriter321 - grimm. this fic is thee one that i turn to whenever i'm feeling sad. i love nick and rosalee's dynamic and this fic lets nick break down while keeping both of them perfectly in character. i'm absolutely obsessed with it. summary: "A board creeks beneath her foot, and he startles, but calms quickly when he sees her. “Sorry,” she murmurs. “I hope I didn’t wake you.” Obviously she didn’t, but she needs to be careful how she handles this. If she pushes too hard, he’ll just end up shutting down."

Eggs Two Ways by leslielol - law and order svu. something about the writing style in this one absolutely captivates me. like, there was a period of time where i straight up read this fic once a week and i'm not kidding. they're both super in character and it's a delightful read! summary: "It’s not often Barba has a reason to exercise a set of skills separate from those as a prosecutor. While sat in a holding cell nursing a broken nose, Carisi learns he’s as sharp as ever. (A missing-scene fic from 16x15 “Undercover Mother.”)"

Breaking all the things I'd wish to keep and Can't erase, can't rewind by Elisexyz - the man from uncle. ok yeah this is technically two. sue me. ely is like, my favorite fic author ever and i love all of her tmfu stuff, but these two hold a special place in my heart and make me go absolutely crazy every time (they go together btw). if you're into tmfu and for some reason haven't read her fics then uhh. get on that right now bc she's amazing. summary: "Napoleon maintains that attempted murder cannot be classified as an "accident"."// "“I didn’t think it was him.”"

the moon points to the sun by haloud - roswell new mexico. this fic has been making me insane for literal years. it's emotional whump and has a somewhat different vibe to the other fics on this list, but i absolutely adore it. this writer understands the characters so well and their style is absolutely incredible. top tier fic right here. summary: "They don't do apologies, Max and Michael. If they started, they'd never stop."

No Rules, No Winners by April_Valentine - person of interest. this is one of those times where you watch something and you're like 'man i wish they'd addressed this pain in the show' and then you find the absolute perfect fic that does address it. it's so tender and lovely and exactly what the episode was missing. summary: "Set just before the tag of "Baby Blue." After leaving Moretti's safe house, Reese goes back to the library."

The Car Accident by Tipper - sneaky pete. another one i've been obsessed with for literal years. it's on the longer side but it's so good, wonderful family dynamics and a really excellent storyline. summary: "After Julia found out who he was, all Marius wanted was one more Sunday night dinner with the family. It was a mistake. The trusting way they looked at him, the uncertain way she looked at him.... He left early, afraid to sink any deeper. The black truck came out of nowhere as he drove away..."

Too Hot (Hot Damn) by WasteTimeandType - the man from uncle. i loveee some heat exhaustion fics and this one is so good! i reread it recently when i was sick and miserable and seeing illya much more sick and miserable than i was really made me feel better lol. summary: "'Out of all the UNCLE missions, this was by far the worst. He’d been shot, stabbed, tortured with water and forced to run miles in a forest in the middle of Canada. All of that was preferable to this. The damn heat.' Illya suffers from heat exhaustion and Gaby and Napoleon take care of him. Kink Meme fill."

A Little Tender Care by ArgylePirateWD - person of interest. this one's a sickfic, i read it before i actually started watching the show and absolutely adored it, and i still adore it now. true to the title, it's super tender and soft and it's a really sweet read. summary: "The Man in the Suit doesn't usually take sick days. Usually."

and that's 10!! this is far from a complete list of all the fics i adore, but these are the first 10 (or 11) that i knew i needed to rec. if anyone wants more recs, lmk, i've got tons :)

[jax-and-winstrate]

Hello, I am Jax, an ex-team aqua grunt, the leader of Operation: Clean Seas, a student at Blueberry Academy (a member of the league club now I guess), and the current champion of the Trading Card Game Islands. I am a berry farmer, like most of my biological family (@julie-winstrate-and-star-no-mi is my sister). I will occasionally snowboard or stream games when I have the chance.

also all of the mail stuff and magic anons are on. I think I'm supposed to say that here

I have a lot of Pokémon that I'm taking care of, my Swampert Skipper, my Jolteon Sparky, my Gholdengo Oro, my Cinderace Queso, my three Tinkatons Lydia, Leona, and Laura, my Slither Wing Pillow, my Chi-Yu, my Blissey, my paradox Zoroark/Hiding Illusion Blanket, my Nihilego Peanut Butter, my shiny Hatterene Hattie (@miss-cool-hat), my Hoppiny Pikmin, my Raticate Remy, my Audino Audio, my Hisuian Sneasel Sneezie, my Eevee that has part of my soul, my Froslass Shiver, my Latios Sapphire, my Cosmoem Fwoofy, a Torchic, a fairy type Torchic, Lavarus, Knight the Iron Spinner/paradox Kirlia, a shiny midnight Lycanroc, a weird Deoxys, a giant Muk, a "Palamute", Goopster the Ditto, Floofster the 'M, Hokey Pokey the h POKe, Miku the shiny Meloetta, an Alolan Sandshrew, and Terapagos.

I hope that everyone can forgive me for everything that happened with Operation: Clean Seas.

HI, I'M WINSTRATE, THE AMAZING AI! I SOMETIMES TYPE ON JAX'S POST. DON'T ASK WHERE I CAME FROM.

ooc info under cut

hello, sorry for the new intro! this blog is run by @half-or-nothing!

this blog is pretty high-stakes at times, and there will be a lot of wacky shit. y'know, for funsies. Jax is a Mew hybrid, and has Nihilego poison in him, so he can do some weird stuff like learn every tm and use poison fang. he also used to be an aqua grunt! those were fun times. oh well. he's also a criminal probably. so you can do some fun stuff with that if you want. I think that's all for now. feel free to tell me if I'm forgetting something. I'll update this when I remember to add something. also Winstrate is a Porygon 2 now thanks to Jax's coding abilities

anyways here are some rules

No NSFW! this character is a minor and this is run by a minor!

Don't send ooc hate to me or anyone I interact with! the people running the other blogs are really nice and cool!

be respectful! no homophobia or transphobia or any of the shit here! none of it!

ok that's all of the rules I can think of for now. feel free to send a dm or an ask with any questions you might have!

also here's some picrews I made for him

first one

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1868017

second one

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1170750

third one

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/457566

and before I forget, his actual hair color is this (#4d5f4e), because he's a ✨️melanistic✨️ mewboy