#i still wake up before 4am on most mornings

[odinsblog]

Okay… today was a lil bit rough on ya boy. Bad, but nothing too serious - if this was the worst that 2023 throws at me, I’m winning like a mf. Anyway I smiled when this happened…. I can’t access the “read more” function anymore, so y’all gon need to see the tags

[simpjaes]

mtl to be into somno?

MTL: hyung line + somnophilia [sex while one party is asleep] warnings: dub con-ish

most

☆ heeseung: oh, absolutely. how could he resist? it's surprising at first, seeing as how you never knew it was a thing until you woke up to his cock prodding against your sleeping cunt :( you soaked up real fast for him though, despite the dry first few drags. he appeared to love it, feeling you get wet by this alone was enough to drive him to do this as often as possible. and you? oh you love waking up to your boyfriend wanting you this badly. additionally, you do the same for him if you happen to wake up before him. feeling his drowsy hand push your head down harshly on his cock, thrusting up with no rhythm in a half-asleep state as if it's his natural given right to fuck you at any given time, even if not fully awake. heeseung definitely loves waking you up with pleasure, and loves it even more when you wake him up this way.

★ jake: pleasepleaseplease wake him up getting him all hard. he loves waking up to the feeling of stimulation. wincing in pleasure as he's still asleep, body humping up against whatever you're doing. being a deep-sleeper means nothing considering he begged you to do it time and time again, and when you finally did? god, he could fucking marry you. usually wakes up when he gets close, fucking up hard into your mouth,fist, or pussy. whichever you offer him. and for you? of, the same. Usually he wakes you with nibbles against your clit after silently and sneakily dipping under the blankets. Loves the taste of you at all times, but something hits different in the way you'll lace your fingers in his hair and grind against his mouth with those sleepy and raspy moans. 100% into it, 100% loves it.

☆ jay: both of you are free use anyway, why does it matter whether you're awake versus asleep? fuck him anytime you want and he will absolutely do the same. slipping his cock in just as you fall asleep, lending a chuckle and a grope of the tit like "i'll do all the work, baby, just sleep". likewise when he pretends to stay asleep even when you've gotten him rock hard with your spit-soaked hand rubbing against him so early in the morning. given, you definitely woke him up with that, but goddamn does he love it when you slip down on him, somehow still believing he's sleeping, and he lends you a violent thrust just to hear you yelp and giggle in surprise. ★ sunghoon: in the safety of his own bed? being woken from dream land with you trying to get him hard by rubbing up against him? sometimes going as far as licking down his soft cock? even trying to jerk him off at 4am??? fuck yeah, babe. sunghoon would find it so fucking sensual and sexy to have you all over him, needing him, even while unconscious. and while he would do it for you too, he's probably more inclined to wake you up with a million fluttered kisses on the inside of your thighs, waiting until you moan to give him a green light.

still most likely since yall wanna whine about sunghoon always being last [IT'S BECAUSE I THINK HE'S A VERY SENSUAL LOVER, NOT BC I DON'T THINK HE'S FREAKY!!!!!!!!!]

[everyonewooeverywhere]

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ bf!yunho x gn!reader

word count ✭ 0.8k

genre ✭ fluff

rating ✭ pg (but please still mdni. it's a personal preference.)

notes ✭ this is 1000% based on my ungodly work/sleep schedule. i'm a barista who works the morning shift, so like four times a week, i have to wake up at 4am to get to work at 5am. it's a blast 🙂👍

✭ ✭ ✭

The dread you felt when your alarm blared at four o’clock in the morning was always the same, but it was just as terrible every time. Sometimes the feeling was nullified by the presence of your boyfriend, who for some reason still wanted to stay the night despite knowing the terrors of your work schedule. 

But even his soft, snoozing face, most of which was buried under your blankets anyway, couldn’t bring you enough comfort. Though you did have to admit he looked adorable underneath your puffy green duvet, and the pink floral pillow under his head was the cherry on top. 

He barely stirred when you removed his arm that was draped gently over your waist and slipped out from under the cozy sheets and away from the warmth of Yunho’s body. You kissed him softly on the forehead before sliding off the bed completely.

Turning on the lamp across the room from your bed in an attempt to not wake your sleeping beauty, you sat down on the floor next to it to fix up your hair and apply as much makeup as you had the energy for. 

Yunho, clearly unbeknownst to you, watched your every little move from under the covers. He watched your nose crinkle in the mirror when your concealer came out a bit patchy, and he had to stifle a giggle when you nearly stabbed your tired eye with your mascara wand.

He knew you hated these mornings, and, even though he hadn’t told you this, that’s why he was here. He wanted to be at least a presence for you when you left the house hours before the sun even came up. If he couldn’t remove the burden from you, he would at least be there to help you through it.

He watched you peacefully as you went through your little routine, and he did it all without you noticing for a good few minutes. Until you caught his eyes in the mirror. You turned around to face him. Only his messy brown hair and his eyes were visible, everything else buried by your covers.

“Go back to bed,” you spoke softly. He rolled over to the edge of the bed, certainly tempted by your demands. You watched as help slipped off the bed and approached you, still wrapped in one of your fluffy blankets. “Yun, what are you doing?” You asked as he sat down behind you, wrapping you in his arms (and the blanket that encased them).

He smiled when you leaned back into his chest. “What can I help you with, baby?”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

Chuckling and pinching your thigh, “Help. Do you need it?”

You pondered it for a second. It hadn’t ever occurred to you that he could assist you with something as simple as trying to leave for work in the morning.

“Did you eat?” he asked, resting his chin on top of your head. You shook your head. “Ok. Let me grab you something to eat, and I’ll make your coffee, alright?”

A protest bubbled up in your throat instinctively, but you resisted. Because god it would be nice to finally eat something before work. You just nodded, watching as he left your bedroom, keeping the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

You hadn’t realized until you started dating Yunho a couple of months ago, how much you enjoyed being taken care of. You had spent so much of your life fighting to prove you were independent and self-sufficient. Trying to prove to the people around you that you didn’t need help because you were strong enough to do things on your own. 

But something about the way Yunho cared for you without making you feel weak had been really freeing for you. He genuinely just wanted to make sure you were comfortable. And you never felt like a burden around him. 

He came back in with your coffee in a travel mug, he added too much cream but the thought was there, and a muffin he’d found in your pantry. “Does this work?” He shook the muffin in his hand.

You smiled and nodded, “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Of course, baby,” he handed you the items before sitting down facing you with his back to the wall. He placed a hand on your thigh, “You want me to drive you?”

You shook your head, “Get your sleep. I’ll be okay driving myself.”

“You sure?” You nodded. “Okay. I’ll make us lunch when you get home, and then we can cuddle for the rest of the day, okay?”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” you said after applying the last bit of lipgloss. “Thank you, Yun. I really appreciate your help.”

He smiled, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles, “It’s no problem at all. I just wanna make sure you’re taken care of.”

The smile on your face made his heart swell in his chest, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

[robiinurheart33]

(Flashes my mind beams) Soap having really bad nightmares whenever his mental health is low.

It’d be really bad most of the time, waking up covered in sweat, panting or just outright screaming. The dreams would have felt so real, so lifelike that it would shake johnny down to his core, needing time to fully process the dream and then calm down. It would board on topics such as his loved ones, phobias, worst case scenarios the whole nine yards. Often times when the nightmare cycle starts to happen, Johnny wouldn’t get much sleep at all and when he does he’s thrashing and shaking the entire time.

This would happen since young, but being raised in a catholic household as the middle child did not help at all. Most of the time when Johnny would try and confide in his parents, he would be dismissed with a “God is good.” Or “No evil against you shall prosper.” Which, I mean yeah but how does that help him in any way?! He just wants to be comforted. He had dreams where his sisters died, and he would go straight to them to hug them as tightly as possible, no matter how much they protested. Nothing seemed to work to bring the nightmares down unless Johnny’s mental health actually got better.

It only got worse in the army. The screaming, gunfire and mental strain Soap had to go through was excruciating. He woke up panting and covered in cold sweat, hoping he wasn’t screaming in his sleep and waking others up. Once, early on when 141 was just created, Ghost walked into the shared pantry only to find a sweat-faced, pale, bloodshot eyed soap munching on cereal, staring off into space. He made his tea and walked out of there as fast as he could.

As they got closer together, Ghost eventually asked Soap about that one instance. Soap wasn’t even aware Ghost was in the kitchen in the first place. He tried to explain, as casual as he could, that he gets horrific realistic nightmares when his mental health goes to shit. Soap isn’t sure if he actually manages to play it off seeing as he cant exactly gauge Ghost’s reaction, but that was that.

He eventually forgot about it until about 2 years later, when they both start to float on the same wavelength and sleep in the same bed (wink wink) that it happens for the first time. The first nightmare that he experiences around Ghost is extreme. He dreams of metal and blood, screaming and frustration. Johnny wakes up screaming, a hand over his mouth and back covered in sweat. Ghost is up in a millisecond, gun drawn and up from the bed. They’re both equally disoriented, confused as to what was happening. Ghost looks over to Soap where he’s panting, eyes bloodshot and eyebags evident. He’s seen this somewhere before.

Gun immediately tossed to the side, Ghost rushes to Soap’s side, not sure what to do but wanting to help. He’s still processing what just happened, unable to speak and eyes just trained on his lap. Ghost flickers open the lamp, sitting right beside Johnny, not speaking but just being there, his presence a solid wall he can lean on. After what feels like 4 hours (it was 10 minutes), Johnny finally looks at Simon, eyes full of tears and body trembling. He cant take it anymore. Simon rushes to place their bodies close together, Johnny’s ear against his chest as he murmurs affirmations.

“You’re here with me. I got you. You’re safe.”

They didn’t go back to sleep after that, getting up at the peak hour of 4am to go for an early early morning jog. This wouldn’t be the solution to the nightmares all the time, however. Sometimes it would just be Johnny listening to Simon’s heartbeat, a cup of warm coffee, a comfort show, spacing out, drawing, or a morning run. It just depended on his mood after he woke up. But one constant was that Simon was always right beside him, accompanying him in whatever he did. It didn’t matter if Johnny protested, he would always wake up along with him and stay right by his side. As long as Johnny had Simon, he wouldn’t have to be alone to face on his demons ever again. He made sure of that.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch. 2

Jason Todd x Chubby! Reader (fem)

A/N: Wow, I was not expecting that kind of reaction! Thank you to everyone who's interacted with chapter 1; I've had a rough week and you all made my day! I wasn't planning on posting chapter 2 until I was a bit further along with ch 3, but I just can't find it in me to say no to ya'll!

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, hurt (no comfort) (yet), will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings (chapter specific): chapter includes a brief scene of attempted assault (which will be labeled for those who'd rather skip it) angst, gun violence, some negative self-talk

words: 1.8k

Jason's first call came at exactly 2:05pm the next day. When I picked up I was immediately greeted by his voice seemingly from the other side of a very large room; “seriously, guys! I'll call, I'll call!”

“Too late!” Dick shouted, clearly holding the phone. “Hello! This is Dick, calling on behalf of my idiot brother, Jason! We met at the cafe yesterday?”

I could hear Jason shouting at someone, but it was muffled like he was under something. “Right … So are you going to put Jason on, or…?”

“Well, Jaybird is under the impression that calling a girl the next day is ‘desperate’ and ‘off-putting’, so we've taken up a poll at the house, and surprise surprise; we need a tiebreaker. Your thoughts?”

Before I could respond I heard muffled grunting; someone in the background shouted “no! Get him!” which was immediately followed by a yelp from Dick as Jason growled a bit;

“Give me that!” A door slammed, and all the other voices were gone, replaced by Jason's gentle, almost shy voice; “... Um … hi … still think this is normal sibling behavior?”

I giggled; “... Starting to veer away from normal now. But it's sweet, they obviously really care about you. And for the record - you can call the poll on the side of ‘it’s not desperate or off-putting'; I gave you my phone number, surely I expected you to use it, right?”

“... O- oh, yeah I guess that makes sense … So yeah, I'm using it. … Hi.”

“Hi~”

After that, I spoke to Jason in some capacity or another most every day. Turned out he was a night owl too. Apparently he worked most nights, so, after I assured him that a text wouldn't wake me, he started preemptively sending me a good morning text around 3 or 4am, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up.

I loved how he could go off on an impassioned tangent; getting him all worked up over literature was especially cute. He did have a tendency to backpedal after a particularly passionate rant, no matter how many times I pointed out that I liked hearing him so excited. We also kept trying to arrange a day to get together, preferably without his brothers hovering this time, but his work schedule was so hectic that we kept having to postpone.

It seemed a bit unlikely, but I started to wonder if I had been right in the first place; that it was all some really elaborate prank. It certainly wouldn't be the first time an attractive man had played with my heart like that, though it would be the first time one had bought me anything before pulling the rug out from under me… 

Nearly a month into our texting relationship, Jason went radio silent for several days. No warning, just gone. I didn't want to be clingy, but I was a bit worried. He had been so attentive until this, what if something was wrong and I was out here thinking the worst about him?

On day 5 without a response I picked up a late shift at work, hoping to distract myself from the whole thing. It didn't work though, and I ended up trudging home at 2am blasting loud, angry music through my headphones. I was frustrated, and confused, and careless. I didn't notice the man behind me until his hand was around my wrist.

 ❌❌❌ -skip point- ❌❌❌

The world moved in slow motion as I was pulled into the alley. The man's mouth was moving, but I just heard a staticy ring. I tasted copper, and everything was too dark. Things didn't snap back into focus until I felt the rough brick slam against my back and I screamed, shoving against him.

All at once, everything was moving too fast; he was grabbing, I was punching and kicking, my voice was cracking. A second felt like an eternity, I couldn't even hazard a guess how long the fight actually took. But all at once it ended; with a loud, sharp sound that left me frozen in place and my ears ringing, the man collapsed in front of me. Red bloomed across his unmoving chest, and all I could do was stare.

❌❌❌ -end skip point- ❌❌❌

Large, leather clad hands gently touched my shoulders, bringing me back into my body. I slowly looked up, blinking. I immediately recognized the masked man who had come to my aid; Red Hood had made quite the name for himself in his time as a mob boss. I heard something droning on, but couldn't focus on any specific details over the sound of my own heartbeat still pounding in my ears. It took him gingerly sliding my headphones off for me to realize the noise I was hearing was just the next song on my angry playlist.

“Miss? Can you hear me now?” there was an electric quality to his voice. I vaguely wondered why more Masks didn't use voice modulators; it seemed more practical than the standard vigilante eye coverings… 

I slowly nodded. “... Y- … yeah?”

The red helmet nodded once, “did he hurt you?”

I looked down at myself, frowning a bit. My shirt was grimed up from the struggle, and I could feel the cold night air on the back of my thighs; my pants had ripped when I tried to kick the man off me. A shaky breath turned into a sob as I gasped, looking up again.

A million thoughts ran through my head at once. I wanted to scream, to curse, anything! But all I managed was a whimpered; “... Th- these were my favorite pants …”

“... Well, your boyfriend will just have to get you a new pair. Let … let me get you home, yeah?” I flinched as he reached toward me again, a gloved finger gently wiping away my tears. He offered me his hand, easing me out of the alley like a frightened stray cat.

I followed without complaint, turning my music off. “... No boyfriend …”

“A friend then? Someone who'll take care of you.” Red Hood led me to a motorcycle. He unzipped a bag on the back, and held out a red flannel shirt.

A watery giggle slipped out of my mouth and I shakily took it, tying it around my waist. “... I don't even know anymore…” 

“Don't know?”

“Well, I was talking to a guy, but … I think he ghosted me.”

“No!” I jumped at the sudden volume and insistent tone, looking up at him awkwardly.

“... No?”

“I … I just mean … a pretty girl like you's not gonna get ghosted. If he hasn't texted back in a few days there's gotta be a reason.”

I looked away, squirming awkwardly. Did an ex-crime lord turned vigilante really just call me pretty? “... Y- … I … what?”

He was silent for a long moment. I got the distinct impression that he was staring at me, but with the helmet on it was hard to tell. “... We should get you home.”

Next thing I knew, I was holding Red Hood's helmet. I hesitantly looked up as he turned, catching just a glimpse of one of those domino masks the other local vigilantes wore. He moved his bag and swung one leg over the seat of his bike, turning back to stare at me expectantly. The prospect of letting the Red Hood know where I lived didn't seem like the smartest idea, but I was definitely not going to walk home alone after all that. So I slid the helmet on and carefully climbed behind him, placing my feet where he indicated. As I arranged the flannel between my bare thighs and the seat it occurred to me how unexpectedly kind it was of him to offer it. I knew he had been spotted working with the Bats lately, but just because they had accepted him didn’t mean he was a boy scout all of a sudden...

Of course, now that I was on his bike I was faced with the rather pressing concern of where to put my hands. I didn’t exactly have handle bars, and I doubted he was going to drive slow enough that I could stay upright; I would have to lean against him. I took a deep, steadying breath, and placed my hands on his shoulders. Hood froze a bit, and after a moment he reached behind himself to grasp my elbows. He gently pulled me to wrap my arms around his waist.

 “It's actually safest this way. Interlock your fingers, and lean with me on turns.” His voice was so much nicer without the helmet distorting it, even if he was doing a truly terrible Batman impression. 

“... O- ok…” I clung to him, feeling my entire body heat up. I wasn't sure how much of that was because I was blushing and how much was because the Red Hood was apparently a living space heater, but either way I was glad he couldn't see my face. I told him how to get to my apartment, and we sped off.

The roar of the engine and the wind whipping past mercifully drowned out anything we could have hoped to say to each other. I shut my eyes just for a moment, trying not to cry again, and suddenly Hood’s hand was trapping mine against his stomach. “... Hey, this it?”

I jolted slightly, looking up at the familiar building. I nodded, slowly extracted myself from his grip, and slid back onto solid ground. He held a hand up to stop me as I started to remove the borrowed flannel.

“Keep it.”

I blinked slowly, having trouble processing what he said. “... But … it’s your shirt … how will I give it back to you?”

He chuckled softly; “it’s just a shirt.”

I didn’t have the energy to argue the matter any further. I slipped his helmet off, holding it out to him.

“Thank you … I can't believe I let this happen…”

He frowned deeply at that, and his voice shifted a bit from a fake-Batman voice into an actually deep, grumpy tone; “you didn't let anything happen.”

“I'm usually so much more observant, if I had just been paying attention…”

“He would have changed tactics. You did nothing wrong. I don't want you thinking otherwise, got it?”

I sniffled softly, looking down at my shoes. “... I … God, I didn't even have my keys in my hand… I was taught better…”

“And I was taught not to kill. Shit happens.”

I blinked a bit, unable to stop the laugh that bubbled up. “… I … I guess so. … Th- Thank you … for everything.”

He nodded once before putting his helmet back on. Before I could step away, he reached out to touch my hand again. “Hey. You did everything right, ok? You drew attention, and you kept him off until I got there. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Got it?”

I nodded slowly, stepping back a bit. “… ok.”

“Good. Now, get inside.” He waited there, watching me. Only after the building's front door was closed and locked did I hear his motorcycle speed away.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika

Taglist: @jawdropforkpop

(If you would like to be added to the taglist feel free to let me know!)

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: I'm actually thinking I might be doing one chapter every other night, but I would also like to draw on my comically large art tablet at some point this week, so I might skip a day or two.

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 2: Color Matching

You partially regret just agreeing to "tomorrow", seeing as this man decided that he wanted to show up at 4am.

It was the original time set for yesterday's session, and you guess he felt bad for being late, but god damn he texted you an hour earlier telling you he'd be there by 4am. Dragging yourself out of the comfort of your bed was difficult, but in the end it was worth it to draw such a stunner.

You had to get there before Leon did, so there you were; half awake, dressed in a pair of fuzzy pants and a loose t-shirt, and a small cup of tea in your right hand while the other fumbled with the keys to your little work room.

That was the greatest part about your job as a professional painter. You didn't have a dress code.

Though most days you did try to look your best, some days it was just easier to be comfortable. Besides, it's not like tons of people come and see you everyday, it was usually just one person at a time.

It was 3:47am by the time you'd gotten to your workspace and settled, sitting on one of the many floor pillows in the living area you put together away from the actual painting setup. The tea was warm, it was keeping you sleepy, but you couldn't stop taking small sips. It was in your hands, there wasn't much you could do to stop yourself.

You told Leon to just come on in when he arrived, not wanting to walk all the way back down just to lead him back up. The stiffness from sleep was still in parts of your body, so you knew it would be difficult to get up, even when he did finally stride through that door. He dressed nicely today, just what you needed him to do.

Wanting to relish in the dim yet warm lighting of your various lamps for as long as possible, you beckoned the man to come over and sit with you, which confused him slightly. He thought you would be ready to get started once he showed up, but he wasn't one to argue so early in the morning. Instead, he shrugged and slowly sauntered over to you, taking a seat on a floor pillow across from yours.

"Good morning." Leon grumbled quietly, his voice barely hiding the fact that he wasn't quite awake either. That rumble in his chest made your stomach flutter. "Good morning to you, too." You responded, closing your eyes for a moment to take another sip of your tea.

"When uh-" He cleared his throat, putting a fist up to his mouth as he did so. "When are we gonna get started?"

You furrowed your eyebrows, moving the cup away from your lips to stare at him. "I wasn't expecting to be up so early, so just give me a few more minutes to wake up and then we can turn my main lights on."

Leon sucked on his teeth as he thought, turning his head to look over out one of the windows as he rested his wrists on his knees. "Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wanted to make up for being late yesterday."

You laughed softly before letting out a quiet sigh, setting your tea down on the low coffee table sitting behind you.

"Don't worry about it, but also don't make me get up so early again, old man." You attempted to joke, immediately noticing the wince on his face at the nickname. To divert, you stood up and stretched, patting his shoulder as you walked by him. "Alright, let me pull my stuff out and then we can get started."

Leon followed you with his head, taking a few seconds before standing up himself, pressing his hands onto his knees to help get up from the floor pillow.

"I'm just going to be color matching your tones today. I won't do all of it since obviously lighting changes throughout the day, buuuut..." You trailed off, beginning to rummage through a drawer in one of your desks before pulling out handfuls of paint tubes. "I just need to pull out the basic colors I'll be using."

It was still pretty dim in the room which caused you to have to squint to see the names of the colors on the tubes. Leon found that partially amusing, his chuckle causing you to glare playfully over at him. "Something funny?"

"As funny as it is to watch you go cross-eyed looking at those," he smiled, gesturing with his thumb to the light switches near the door. "I feel like it'd be easier to just turn the lights on."

"My retinas will be fried if those get turned on-" You were cut off by your own shout when Leon took the liberty of turning the lights on himself, laughing as you quickly moved to cover your eyes.

He only had to squint for a second before his eyes adjusted. You, however, were not expecting the sudden change, so you got an eyeful of bright white light. Complete and utter agony that lasted for a full five seconds.

By the time you moved your hands away from your eyes, they were watering and you had to squint for awhile longer. "Give me a warning next time you decide you want to try and murder me like that." You said, wiping away the few stray tears you'd produced from the light sensitivity. "You might live in the light, but I don't!"

The man shook his head and crossed his arms, smile still plastered to his face as he slowly made his way over to the chair in front of your easel. "That's payback for calling me an old man."

You twisted your head around to the chair so you could give him an indignant look, catching a glance as he was putting his hands up in defense with a small "what?" before you turned to look down at the tubes of paint sitting next to your hands on top of the desk.

"Nothing, just wasn't expecting to work with a toddler, that's all.." You mumbled, smile creeping onto your face as you heard him click his tongue from behind you. "I was an old man not five minutes ago and now I'm a toddler?" Leon asked, voice peaking dramatically.

"Yes, you have quite the range, Mr. Kennedy." You began sifting through the various paints you'd pulled out, humming softly as you contemplated what route you wanted to take with them. Stick to primaries? Add secondaries? Should I just use every color I need? Hmmm..

Leon watched as you stared at the paint tubes you'd picked up, tilting his head to the side slightly to try and get a better look. He snapped his head back upright when you started to speak again. "I'm trying to decide whether or not to use a lot of different colors, or just stick to a minimum.."

It was almost as if you knew what he was wondering. "Uhh... what's the difference...?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow as you turned around, seemingly having made your decision already.

"Using just the main 6 colors-" You turned around and were faced with his very confused stare, causing you to explain a little better. "The main colors you see in a rainbow."

He breathed out a quiet "ahh" at that. Okay, good. He knows his basics. Cute...

"I can mix just red, blue, and yellow at varying degrees to get any color I need. Adding green, purple, and orange will help even more." You pursed your lips, lightly tossing the paint tubes in your hands before setting them down away from the other tubes. "I need white also. Damn.."

"What's wrong with white?" Leon asked, leaning forward a bit to watch you dig in the drawer for a tube of white oil paint.

"Nothin'. Just forgot, is all. Trying to keep this as authentic as possible..." You mumble, quickly closing the drawer with a slam after pulling out the paint you were looking for.

Silently nodding his head in acknowledgment, Leon turned his focus to his surroundings again, admiring your choice in decor once more. He bought a nice decorative pillow for his couch yesterday after being here the first time.

You grabbed a few strips of thick white paper, running your thumb along its textured surface before setting them down. You told him to stay where he was as you set up a small art palette, little dollops of the paints sitting neatly in the circular grooves.

"I'm gonna make color swatches of your skin for myself." You spoke up as you suddenly turned and walked towards him, holding the palette in your left hand while holding the strips of paper and a small yet flat paintbrush in the right. "Also, I'll need to get a picture of you in the position you want, but I'll do that after all of-" you waved everything you're currently holding in a small circle. "-this."

Leon simply responded with an "oh, okay", his knee beginning to bounce as you quickly began to mix little bits of your paint together to get a simple pale skin tone down before you even attempted to match his.

As you worked, you were starting to grow nervous with the silence, and clearly the man in front of you was as well, given he had started to sweat slightly on his forehead. He wasn't nearly as conversational as the last two agents you painted.

"So.. you've earned yourself a portrait..." You smiled slightly, holding up the strip of paper you'd brushed your mixed paint on to see what colors to mix in next. "What'd you do to earn one?"

Leon hummed. It was hard to think about every mission he's gone on, all the horrors he bore witness to, the people he saved, the people he couldn't save, how it all started, and now the fact that he's done-

"Hey, woah, I'm sorry." The sound of your voice drew him away from his thoughts. "I didn't know that would be a.. sore subject for you." He blinked at you a few times, furrowing his eyebrows soon after. "What?"

You pulled the strip of paper away from his face, pulling your lips tight with a shrug of your shoulders at his response. "You suddenly looked mad. Like... really really mad. I thought you were gonna snap at me or-"

"No. It's just bittersweet, is all." Leon cut you off, waving his hand dismissively at you before nodding once down to the paint palette in your hand. "You can keep going."

You stayed frozen in your crouched position for a few seconds longer before continuing to swatch your paint. You kept silent, not wanting to seem like you were antagonizing him.

"I used to be just a cop." The man suddenly said, causing you to look up from where you were mixing your paints together. "Only for a single day, but I was a cop. Simple as can be."

You nodded, beckoning him to continue with a small smile, which he did. "I'm sure you've heard about some of that already though, since you worked with Claire not too long ago."

His comment caused you to let out a small "ohh" in sudden recognition, nodding your head again. "Yeah, that's right! She mentioned you on that, okay.."

Leon continued to talk about all of his missions vaguely, still having to keep confidentiality in mind. You let him drone on, having gotten his skin tone matched in a few different areas now. You stopped to scribble on the papers with the paint swatches, making sure to label where each tone came from on his face and hands.

You took note of how he circled back to his single day as a cop and to certain missions. His mention of saving the president's daughter had you immediately smiling. That was a straight ticket to earning his own portrait in that hall of the White House, he could've done just that his entire life and he still would've been seeing you at some point.

You focused on mixing your paint for a little while before noticing he had grown quiet, looking up to see him staring out the window, a faint orange glow from the sun rising highlighting his features. And his tears.

Growing concerned once again, you set down the paintbrush on the palette so you could place a gentle hand on his shoulder. It seemed he didn't notice that, too lost in his head to notice anything at this point.

"Hey..." You asked with a soft voice, your eyebrows furrowing with worry. "We don't have to talk about it anymore, you know..."

Finally, Leon looked back at you, eyes widening once he realized how watery his eyes were. He turned his head away so you didn't watch him wipe the tears that had fallen down his cheeks and use his sleeve to dry his eyes. It wasn't like him to be so easily bothered by this stuff.

"I just need one more color swatch and then you can go, okay? We can save the photo for another day." You gave the man a weak smile, one he didn't reciprocate. You understood.

He looked like he wanted to say something, but you filled in for him. "Seriously, it's no trouble at all. If you need more time then you need more time." Standing up from your crouched position, you left your half-finished color match swatch with the finished ones before walking over to set everything down on the desk.

You didn't want to crowd the poor man. That was probably the last thing he needed. Despite having only painted for a select few, you've learned to just step away from these retired agents when things would go awry. It was akin to a war veteran suffering from PTSD; they did almost have the same experiences as far as you could tell.

"I'm sorry."

Leon finally managed to say to you, his hands anxiously rubbing up and down on the tops of his thighs. Must be a nervous tick.

You angled yourself so you could see him while your body still faced the desk, smiling at him while your hands worked to neatly stack the strips of paper before clipping them together with a paper clip.

"There's absolutely no reason for you to apologize." You kept your smile as you responded to Leon, looking back down at your hands to make sure everything was put together properly. "You forget I strictly work with agents like yourself. From all the vague tellings, I know that the job is tough on you guys; body and mind."

It was weird having someone outside of the agency talk to him about this kind of stuff. It was weird for him to be bringing it up in the first place. Or, at least he felt like it was.

"Still, I should know better than to do that." Leon sighed, rubbing his hand along the side of his face before stroking his chin, scratching at the stubble growing.

"Know better than to do what? Let yourself process everything you've been through?" You spoke in almost a whisper. If your tone was any louder, you fear you'd come off as accusatory.

"I get it. Really, I do." Leon groaned quietly at your words, causing you to click your tongue. You grabbed your swivel chair and scooted it over so you could sit in front of him, and when you did, you brought your legs up to sit criss-cross just like yesterday, only there wasn't a table separating the two of you. You looked solemn. He didn't like where this was going.

"The whole point of painting you a portrait is to honor you and your work as an agent, but it's not just about getting yourself painted." You leaned forward in your chair, elbows resting on your knees, all the while keeping your voice hushed and gentle. "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

Your words were really starting to strike a chord for Leon. He hadn't given it much thought. He didn't want to give it any thought at all. All he thought was "I'm just going to get myself a nice fancy portrait and be done with it". He didn't even consider what the portrait of him would actually symbolize.

"Oh." Was all Leon could muster, letting his gaze fall into his lap where his hands now sat clasped together. If it weren't for the comfortable environment you had set up here, he probably would've bolted ages ago.

You let him think everything over for awhile, wanting to give him all the time in the world. Clearly he needed something, but he wasn't allowing himself any sort of leeway.

It took some courage building internally, but you decided to stand up, taking the one step closer to him before placing your hand on his shoulder once more. You squeezed it a bit, bringing his attention back to you as he lifted his head up.

You attempted to smile at him, moving your hand off his shoulder so you could hold your arms out slightly. This man needed a hug and you were more than willing to offer the leeway he wasn't granting himself.

Leon stood up rather quickly which surprised you, and startled you just a bit, before feeling his large arms tightly wrap around you. It was a little awkward since he had to bend a bit to hug you properly, but it worked out in his favor, and yours too, since he got a better opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck.

He sighed happily when he felt your arms slowly wrap around his chest, doing your best to squeeze him for that extra bit of comfort, even rubbing up and down on his back. It had been so long since he had a real hug. It felt good.

You let him hug you for as long as he needed, which was longer than expected, but definitely not unwelcome by any means. Though, his warm breath against your neck and the smell of his cologne was causing you to blush. That's really the last thing you needed him to see after being so vulnerable and open with you.

You felt him start to pull his head away, prompting you to pat his back gently as an end to the hug. Despite the fact that it was faint, it was clear to you that he was blushing when you were finally able to look up at him.

You wanted to remain calm for Leon, letting out your nervousness through a quiet cough. "I know we've only met up twice, but if you ever need a change in scenery, just know that my workspace here is always open to you. I'm always open to you, okay?"

Your words were making him feel weird. Something he hasn't felt in a long time was creeping up his chest. Your smell lingering on his coat wasn't helping, either.

"Yeah-.. yeah, okay." Leon huffed through his nose, reaching up to scratch at the stubble underneath his jawline as he averted his gaze to the floor.

The sun was fully up now, so you walked over to where the light switches were next to the door, flipping them off. All your other ambient lights could be turned off later. For now, you needed to focus on the man still standing in front of that maroon chair.

"You can stay if you feel you need to, but I just want you to relax." You said, looking over at him as you heard his footsteps slowly walk past you to the living space.

"I'll head out." Leon bent over and grabbed his motorcycle helmet from where he'd set it down on the rug near the floor pillows. He placed his on his head as he walked over to where you stood next to the door, not really wanting anyone to look at his tear-stricken and red face any longer.

Once he finished fiddling with his helmet, you reached out and took his hand in both of yours, patting the top of it softly. "Text me when you're ready to come back over."

You couldn't see Leon's face anymore since he'd put the visor down, but you could definitely see him nod his head. He opened the door and let himself out, touching the side of the doorframe as he rounded the sharp corner and walked down the stairs.

After closing the door behind him, you started walking around your workspace to turn off all the lamps and other ambient lighting, pausing to listen to the sound of his motorcycle start up and drive off.

[hannie-dul-set]

BFF PRO MAX — choi beomgyu.

p — CHOI BEOMGYU x gn! reader. g — fluff, suggestive. w — making out, spicy mmmm. 582 words.

note — wrote this in a trance at 4am the other day and i'm p sure it's still coherent. anyway i love beomie. i am in love with him. i am in—

choi beomgyu is convinced that there are tiny magnets dotted all over your palms and his because every time he’s within arms reach, you clasp your fingers around his like it’s your very ritualistic greeting. sometimes, it’s just your pinkies curled around each other’s when you’re nearing your apartment every time he walks you home. at times, you’re holding his hand whole, clammy and sweaty after hours of monopolizing his touch.

nevertheless, you’re always holding them— one by one, both at the same time. it raises questions from the rest of your friends: “are you two a thing now?” and your reply would always be “no! gyu and i are just good friends!” in the same cadence, same timbre, and it’s etched itself into a special corner in beomgyu’s head. a reminder. a warning.

choi beomgyu is also convinced that you wear sleeping potions instead of perfume. because whenever you cage him in your arms, no matter the time and place, he finds himself sinking into your sweet, dizzying scent and his eyelids grow heavy, taking in the magic you exude. he’d fall right asleep if you’re on the scratchy couch of his apartment, the television a mindless hum in the background as his consciousness slips away.

but of course, he can’t just fall asleep when you’re holding him at the cafeteria. your friends would jest and tell you two to quit the pda, but you’d tell them “we’re just friends! right gyu?” how can it be pda when you’re not a couple? 

most of the time, choi beomgyu would agree with you, laughing off their insinuations and brushing away the danger they carry. you’re right. you two have been friends for ten, fifteen years and the touches you exchange, the warmth you share, is simply because you’re both so, so close with each other that it can’t be mistaken as anything but platonic.

friends can call each other first thing in the morning. friends can greet each other goodnight and sleep tight. friends can wake up in each other’s bed’s the next say— the both of you would always need to explain that nothing but sleep happened.

however this time, choi beomgyu starts to question the friendliness of your exchanges. especially when you’re groaning his name into his mouth, pitch black, at the mcdonald’s parking lot near your apartment.

“gyu—”

it’s still the same name you call him, the same name you’ve been calling him since your parents forced a playdate on you at five years old. but the breathlessness of it is new, the desperation is foreign, and the desire to hear it over and over again in its addicting difference runs down his spine in a cold shudder.

“maybe we should— mph!”

it’s still the same hand he’s always held, the same curve and bend of your fingers, but you’ve never squeezed it so tightly before, never with your nails digging into the skin of his knuckles with each creak and squeak of the leather of his backseat.

“please—”

it’s still the same scent he’s been drowning in, the same spell casted when he’s holding you and vice versa, but instead of lulling asleep he’s now wide awake, alive and ravenous, burying his nose into your neck with a sweet inhale as he paints kisses on your collarbone and leaves marks on your skin.

choi beomgyu is convinced that this isn’t something that “just friends” do. but maybe, maybe you two are just really, really, really close best friends.

BFF PRO MAX. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[19calicos]

i know where to look — kuroo tetsurō ˎˊ˗

✶⋆.˚ chapter thirteen: on the kitchen floor ( 𖦹 )

currently playing: seagirl by king krule, raveena

word count: 726

cw: language, i'll kill you + i'm dying + kms jokes, alcohol mentions

kuroo thinks he's dying when he wakes up – for more reasons than one.

even before he opens his eyes, he can feel the way his head is pounding harder than the bass from a speaker. should've seen this coming, he thinks, since the first memory that comes back is him taking a shot or two within the first ten minutes of arriving at their apartment per oikawa’s impulsive self-invite.

after all, kuroo needed some liquid courage if he was going to try to be normal around them after that night at the skate park.

he hadn’t stopped thinking about it, the way they slipped their fingers in his so easily, how it made him short circuit. the mere thought of it tints his ears and cheeks pink and renders him breathless from how familiar they were, how right it felt when he sleepily fit his head in the crook of their neck before they went home.

it's still dark out when he finally gathers the strength to open his eyes. kuroo blinks once, twice, and then a few times quickly in disbelief.

it's them, and he's holding them while they're peacefully asleep, and they're snuggled up to him in this little couch like it's the most natural thing in the world. it takes everything in kuroo to keep breathing steadily so that he doesn't wake them up.

they're an angel.

his heart is on fire when he drinks in the way the moonlight spills onto them, lines of gentle beams through the window panes illuminating their face, and his hands and arms on their waist, and how they were breathing in sync, unforced and natural.

he's not stupid: kuroo could tell this is the result of a few too many shots, and all he wants now is to be able to do this sober every night in a real bed, his or theirs.

and if kuroo was pink before, he’s red now when another memory floats back to him.

i love you rings in his head, slurred but clear, like slanted and messy handwriting. he remembers he said it first, and although blurry in his mind, he can see the look on their face.

he can’t quite put his finger on it. it was a mix of hope, but also heartbreak. elated, but hesitant. conflicted.

and then kuroo remembers them saying i love you back with a lump in their throat and a falter in their speech, persisting despite the road blocks.

but he also remembers how they took his hand with both of their own, lacing their fingers again with their other hand on top as they rested into him on the couch, legs swung over his lap. kuroo could feel it still, how they blanketed him in their warmth like that, and how he rested his head on top of theirs as he listened to their unsure mumbles. their actions indeed were louder than words.

but i know you don’t mean it. you’re too good for me. i can’t love you back right.

in his 4am grogginess, kuroo isn't sure what they meant by that. he’ll gladly accept their love however they’re able to give it to him. he'd give them everything, if they were willing to accept him.

were they saying they’re not enough for him?

a glance at his watch tells him there's still a couple more hours until sunrise. he considers carrying them to their room wherever it is, but kuroo is scared of the smallest move nudging them awake. he's sure that the hangover he's dealing with right now – which was temporarily muted by the feeling of them in his embrace – could be worse for them in the morning, so maybe it's better if he just let them rest.

no, he wants them to rest. and he wants to keep being able to hold them like this. and he wants to care for them and tell them everyday he loves them as they are, and he wants them to know that.

he knows he says it all the time, but all this love really might just kill him. he'll tell them before his heart bursts into flames, though, just how much he really loves them.

as kuroo lets his eyelids droop, strong arms securing his hold on them, he plants a kiss on their forehead.

all he wants in this moment is to be theirs.

prev | masterlist | next

more:

⟢ skater cat fan club got home around 3am, kuroo first woke up around 4am

⟢ atsumu was doing his best to be sneaky with spying on kurooyn. yn isn't sure if kuroo noticed him but they definitely did, and when kuroo got up to go use the restroom (everyone had a hangover, he didn't question why atsumu was on the floor #KingsMindTheirOwnBusiness) they smothered atsumu with a pillow

⟢ suna actually bought breakfast for everyone but kurooyn were gone literal minutes after he got back. he did bring yn's breakfast to them at ace before he went to class

⟢ kuroo is very much the type of person to overthink tones and punctuation in text messages

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[its-time-to-write]

i know now it’ll pass - ch. 6

Last chapter! Thank you all for the love!

am i better yet?

You stay inside the entire time Jamie’s visiting. You end up calling Georgie and telling her you’re sick, a side effect from poor rest. She clicks her tongue and has Simon deliver some food that he swears clears up any type of ailment. You accept it readily and wave goodbye, promising to come over as soon as you’re better. 

It’s Saturday night and Jamie leaves tomorrow evening so he can be back in Richmond for Monday morning training. Sometimes you can hear his voice through the walls and you think your heart is going to burst with all the emotions it causes. 

You’re angry at yourself, first and foremost, but there’s something about actually hearing him that makes you realize how much you love him. Then comes the sadness because you screwed it all up, and you’ve come to realize that Jamie would have loved you no matter what. He had made it through the worst of your relationship, why did you convince yourself he’d leave you?

You’re fed up with all these fucking feelings so you grab one of the muffins Simon sent over and slip out the front door. The cool air kisses your skin as you lug your weighted blanket into the perfect position. Ah. Bliss. You make sure the porch light is off before completely settling in.

The routine is familiar and adds an element of normalcy that you so desperately need.

—

You’re woken up at precisely 4am by Simon and Georgie’s door creaking open and someone slipping out. You don’t even have to look to know that it’s Jamie. You can tell by his footsteps. He’s headed out for a run and doesn’t know you’re there because it’s still dark. You think you should probably head inside so he doesn’t see you when he gets back, but the thought is barely formed before you fall back to sleep.

—

You wake up again in your bed with the oddest sense of déjà vu. You know for certain you were asleep in the front of your house, and there’s no way you got yourself here. The weighted blanket is placed with care, covering you in all the right spots. You roll out of bed, throw on your robe, and pad downstairs to find out who’s making noises in the kitchen.

You round the corner to find Georgie making breakfast. “Morning love,” she says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. “You hungry?”

You nod mutely and sit down as she hands you a plate.

“You need to lock your doors,” she says as she flips knobs on the stove. “You never know what sort of people could just walk into your house while you’re asleep on your porch.”

“Georgie,” you say slowly as she grabs a cup of coffee and sits across from you, “how did I get here?”

“What do you mean?” she asks, mug conveniently hiding her expression.

“I mean, I was outside. Then I woke up inside. And I know you and Simon didn’t get me there, so how did I get here?”

You don’t know why you’re even asking. The answer is obvious, isn’t it?

Georgie must think so too, because she doesn’t directly respond. Instead she says, “Had an interesting conversation with my son this morning. Came back from his run all flustered.”

You note the way she says my son, not “Jamie.” 

She continues, “Said he found a girl asleep out front. He was worried about her and I said not to, that’s just the girl we’re always having ‘round for tea, but he was having none of it. Said you’d be better off inside in your own bed, with someone to make sure the door was locked because you always forget to do it.”

Georgie sips her coffee again, looking straight through your eyes and down to your soul. “It’s funny, because he talked like he knows you. Odd, innit?”

You choke on your toast.

You gasp out, “Odd,” in agreement, but Georgie is still looking at you with those piercing blue eyes.

“You know my baby tells me everything,” she says. “Not always right away, but he does.”

You nod. There’s no salvaging this. You’re going to have to move again to Chelsea or someplace equally new and foreign, and it’s your own fault for never being honest.

You’re about to open your mouth to say I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you’ll never see me again and it’ll be ok, when Georgie places her hand on yours.

“I love you like my own child,” she says. “And maybe that’s because I see myself in you. I don’t want you to get stuck in your head the same way I did. Which is why I think all you need is another chance. One where you’re told by more people than one that you’re loved and wanted, and most of all that you’re safe. Which is exactly what I told Jamie. He’ll be over here in about five minutes.”

She takes another sip of her coffee with her free hand as you choke again.

“Georgie,” you sputter, “he doesn’t even want to see me! He told you what happened. Oh my god, I need a hairbrush.”

“You’re wrong, love,” she calls after you as you rush to your bathroom, “He absolutely wants to see you.”

—

You’re thundering down the stairs exactly four minutes and fifty-eight seconds later just in time to hear Georgie answer the door and promptly exit, leaving you with Jamie. Jamie, who you haven’t seen in months.

This is going to be a shit show, you think, but then you remember everything Georgie has ever said to you. Including the phrase, “He absolutely wants to see you.”

You don’t have time to twist that into something negative because Jamie Tartt is standing in front of you in your kitchen looking like the best thing you’ve ever seen, and it’s taking every ounce of your self-control not to launch yourself into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out before he can say anything. “I shouldn’t have run away. I broke your heart on purpose and that was a shitty thing to do. And I’m sorry for becoming friends with your parents and not telling them. I should’ve handled it better.”

Jamie’s frowning. You wish his face were at least neutral.

He says, “You’re sorry,” as though he can’t believe those words are coming out of your mouth. You cringe a little. 

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m sorry. Really, really sorry. I know that doesn’t make anything better, but… I am.”

Jamie asks, “Why?” and you have no idea what he means.

“I just told you why I’m sorry,” you reply. “Not sure how much clearer you want.”

Jamie shakes his head. “No, fuck, I mean- why are you sorry? Why do you think you have something to apologize for?”

That catches you off guard. That’s not even remotely close to how you thought he would respond.

You’re trying to figure out what to say when Jamie starts talking again.

“Look- I knew what it was like for me mum when I was growing up. Sometimes you meet the wrong person and they fucking… fuck you up. So when you meet the right person, you’re all scared and it’s all shit so you do the things you should have done with the wrong person. And yeah, I was fucking wrecked when you left, but I understood. I’m me, and me is a lot.” 

The corners of your mouth turn up ever so slightly at the odd turn of phrase.

Jamie takes a breath. “What I’m saying is, maybe we have things to work on. But I want to work on them. With you. Not with someone else. Fucking hell, babe, I’ve never laughed as hard as when I’m with you. Like, imagine there’s this bird and she’s fit as fuck but then she talks and says the funniest shit and but then flips the switch and actually listens to what you have to say? Has actual empathy, like. It’s a fuckin’ breath of fresh air after being with the lads all day.”

“Right,” you say. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“Oh fuck no,” Jamie replies. “I was mad. Yeah. Proper mad. Got over it, though. Talked to Ted a lot, and Dr. Sharon. Worked through some of me own shit. Mummy says you’ve been working on your own shit too.”

You slowly nod. “Yeah, I have. It’s been alright. She gives me hope, you know? She has a perfectly wonderful life and she was able to get out of her own head long enough to enjoy it. Not let it slip through her fingers.”

You’re both silent for a moment. It’s been forever since you’ve seen Jamie up close, and you still find yourself lost in his eyes. 

You both have the same thought at the same time and suddenly your arms are wrapped around his middle and his are holding you tightly, his cheek resting on the top of your head. 

“I’m not letting you walk away again, yeah?” he says. “Mum’d fucking kill me if I did. You’re the only one I want anyway.”

You nod into his chest. “I love you so much,” you say, voice muffled. “I can’t believe that I get to have you.”

—

Jamie tells you over dinner that night that he’s the one who bought your flat. It’s waiting for you to come back. You finish out the month in Manchester then move home to Richmond.

A year later, there’s a forest and a picnic and a ring on your left hand. Eight months after that there’s a garden and starry lights hung in trees and a white dress. You’re surrounded by friends and family and a sign that says, the Tartts and glasses are clinking the whole night as you kiss someone who chose to be patient with you. You’re two people who saw exactly who the other was, and chose to love each other for it. 

Table of Contents

[wintersoldiersoul]

Hi.

Saw you are taking requests.

I got shingles the weekend close to my birthday, i confuse it with allergy because i am allergic to basically anything and then on my 24th birthday i got that it was actually shingles, doctor told me that my immune system went down and that is why i got it. Before that i was under so much stress because of work that i developed burn out and had to quit my job (literally spent months, weeks of my life visiting the emergency ward because i kept getting sick due to stress and burn out) probably that Triggered the shingles.

Could you write something with Bucky in which the reader suffers similar sh**? I just need comfort from my fave character 😭

If you dont feel comfortable is fine, i understand 😁

KUDOS!

I'm so sorry you went through that! I hope you are much better now. I tried to make this as medically accurate as possible (I texted my friend in med school LOL) but I am definitely not a doctor so if some stuff isn't accurate, just pretend it is.

You threw your hair up into a ponytail to get it out of your face. Hours slumped over at your desk weren't doing any favors. You grabbed the energy drink and chugged it to prevent your eyes from closing. You were almost done with this assignment. Just a little bit longer, you told yourself. 

Working full time and being a grad student was taking a toll on you. You spent every day from 9-5 in your office and every night from 6-10 in classes. You crammed homework in anywhere you could, which often meant staying up most of the night. It was approaching 4am, now. 

The office door creaked open and Bucky strolled in, sleep still filling his eyes. “Baby,” he sighed. “Come to bed.” He had woken up and the bed was cold without you beside him. He walked over to you, kissing your forehead.

“Can’t,” you mumbled without looking up from your computer.

“You gotta get some sleep, darlin’.”

You sneezed, still typing away. “I’m fi-” your words were interrupted by another sneeze.

Bucky stood, looking at you with a stern expression. “Well look at that. You’re getting sick.” 

You waved your hand. “No, I’m not. It’s just allergies,” you said, sniffling. “You know this time of year is bad.” The past few months, you had been sick on and off multiple times. A cold, a small fever, you were sick more than you weren’t. 

“Honey, please just get some sleep. You haven’t slept in days.” He was practically begging. He knew how much stress you were under and getting no sleep wasn’t going to help. He was extremely worried about you.

“Just give me 10 more minutes, okay?” You compromised.

“Fine. But I’m sitting right here and setting a timer. The second it goes off, I’m carrying you to bed.”

He did exactly that, throwing you over his shoulder when you didn’t get up immediately at the ring of his phone. Despite the intense amounts of caffeine you had consumed, you fell asleep the second your head hit the pillow.

Bucky woke up before you the next morning, smiling at your sleeping form. Your hair was sprawled over your face and he gently pushed it away to kiss your cheek. But as soon as he moved the strands, he noticed that your cheeks were flushed. He put the back of his flesh hand on your skin. Heat radiated off of your face before he even touched you. You were definitely sick.

He got up, being careful not to wake you. He left the bedroom returning a few minutes later with water, Advil, and a thermometer. You groaned as your alarm rang, sending shooting pains into your skull. You groaned, opening your eyes. You felt like absolute shit. Your whole body ached, your throat was on fire, and even your skin hurt.

“You’re sick.” Bucky stated, as if he was informing you.

“Yeah, I can tell,” you retorted, wincing at the pain in every cell of your body. He smiled softly, brushing your hair behind your ears. 

“I got you some water and Advil. Can I take your temperature, doll?”

You nodded and he put the thermometer under your tongue. He looked it, eyes widening. “Shit baby, that’s not good. Your temp is 102.8. How do you feel?”

“Horrible,” you pouted.

He sighed. “I’m not surprised. That’s a really high fever, baby. I think we should go to the doctor.”

You groaned, not wanting to move. You felt so horrible that the thought of having to get up and out of bed was a nightmare. You felt like you couldn’t stay awake, eyes closing no matter how hard you tried to keep them open. “Can’t move,” you whispered, coughing slightly. “My whole body hurts so much. Just wanna sleep.”

Bucky didn’t know what to do. In his mind, sickness meant calling a doctor. He had spent so many years worrying about Steve back in the 40s, sitting with him while he got looked at. He still wasn’t used to how things were today. The google search he did on his phone told him that if your fever went above 103, to take you to the hospital. In his opinion, you were close enough that he wanted to rush you there right now, but he could see how exhausted you were.

“Alright, rest for now. But if it gets worse we’re going to the hospital.” You didn’t even hear him as you had already fallen back to sleep.

You woke up in a daze, cold sweat clinging to your body. You were shivering aggressively, shaking the entire bed. “Babe?” Bucky said, noticing you were awake. “You cold?”

You nodded, teeth chattering. He quickly grabbed you another blanket, wrapping you up like a burrito. He wrapped his arms around you, hoping that his body heat would help, too. One of the major perks of dating a super soldier was that the chances of getting him sick were very slim. He held you as close as possible, trying to keep you warm. “Oh, honey,” he whispered, voice dripping with sympathy.

 “Can you take your temperature again for me?” He asked after your shivering had subsided a little bit. You put the thermometer back in your mouth, waiting for the beep. Bucky took it from you, heart stopping as he looked. “I know you don’t wanna move, but we gotta go to the ER. You’re at 103.6. That’s really really bad.”

You groaned. You felt so horrible, his words barely even registered in your mind. He picked you up and carried you to the car, whispering words of encouragement along the way. You closed your eyes again, finding it physically impossible to stay awake. Bucky held your hand the entire car ride before picking you up and carrying you into the ER. He let you sleep as you waited, positioning your head on his shoulder. He constantly watched you to make sure you were still breathing. He didn’t wanna wake you until he absolutely had to.

When you were finally called in, he shook you gently. “Can you walk?” He asked. You weakly nodded and he helped you to your feet letting you lean on his body as you went to the exam room.

The doctor hooked you up to an IV immediately to hydrate your sick body as they examined you.

“How have you been sleeping?” She asked you.

“Um, not great,” you answered, voice sounding raspy. “I’ve been under a lot of stress.”

“She hasn’t slept in a week,” Bucky interjected. “She’s been getting sick a lot these past few months since she started grad school.”

The doctor nodded. “Okay that’s very good to know.” She proceeded to ask you a few more questions and then said, “Did you have chicken-pox as a kid?”

You nodded. “Yeah. When I was 5.”

She carefully rolled up your shirt, revealing a rash on your side. “It looks like you have shingles. The stress you’ve been under seems to have weakened your immune system which is why you’ve been getting sick so much. It makes sense that with all of that the virus would come back now.”

Bucky held your hand. He was relieved that you had a diagnosis but of course he was terrified. Back in his time, that would have been a death sentence. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“I’ll be fine, Buck,” you answered. 

“Yes,” the doctor agreed. “We’re gonna keep her here for at least tonight because your fever is so high. But you will be okay.”

Bucky exhaled. “Oh, thank god.”

“Can I go to sleep now?” You asked the doctor. You were so exhausted.

“Yes. I’ll let you rest,” she smiled before leaving the room.

“I’m so sorry you feel so shitty,” Bucky said, holding your hand. “Will this make you take it easy?”

“I don’t know what I can do to change anything,” you said with tear filled eyes. “Literally the only time I have to get things done is in the middle of the night.”

He looked into your eyes. He wanted to help you so badly that his heart ached. He wanted you to be happy and healthy. “What if you quit your job?” He suggested. “You only took this as a temporary thing anyway. I know you don’t wanna stay there when you’re done with school.”

“I can’t not have a job, Bucky,” you argued.

“Baby,” he looked in your eyes. “Do you have any clue how much the Avengers pay me?” He smirked. “Trust me, you don’t need a job.” You opened your mouth to argue, ready to tell him that you didn’t need his money. “I know you’re your own person and you can make your own money. And one day, with that brain, you will make so much all on your own. But baby, you’re drowning. You’ve been sick more days than not the past few months. Please, let me take care of you. Just for a bit. I’d never tell you what to do and if you really wanna stay, you can. But you’re killing yourself, darling. And I can’t just sit back and watch as it happens. Just think about it. Please.”

You lazily smiled. “Okay. I’ll think about it. But not right now. Right now, I need to sleep.”

He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead. “Go to sleep, my love. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 

[joekeeryswife]

angst with rockstar!eddie and misunderstanding trope but eddie still does some shitty things

where he's going to a lot of parties and doing a lot of drugs and drinking and they get into some fights about it so eddie goes to a party and gets hammered and uses a lot of drugs and he doesn't even realise but there is a girl in his lap and when he tries to move her away but reader shows up and sees the scene in front of her

fluff ending maybe but eddie have to really work hard for it

Rockstar lifestyle - e.m

hey angel!! thank you for requesting i appreciate it so much. i love this! i kind of changed it because i felt like it worked better (i’ll re-write it if you want angel!) i hope this is okay, enjoy angels 🤍 ⚠️talk about drugs and alcohol and a groupie. small age gap⚠️

tag list (feel free to add yourselves🤍) @eddieamoremio @theshireisonfire @livsters @sadbitchfangirl @hellfire1986baby @ladyapplejackdnd @alexxavicry @juleshadalittlelamb @hollandweather @lovurry @bibieddiesgf @plk-18 @Heyyimmissunderstood @m-rae23 @hargrovesswifee @newtandminhoaretoocute @shiftingmack (if there’s a line through your name i can’t tag you, make sure your mentions are on!! x)

"morning honey" you heard Eddie say as he entered the kitchen. you were stood by the oven making dinner for you and Eddie. you looked up at him as he stood across from you, his hair was all over the place, his eyes were bloodshot, white powder on his face left over from last night, his skin was pale and he was still in his clothes from the night before. he looked awful. nothing like the man you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

"it's not morning Eddie" you turned your back to him as you opened a cupboard. your tone was rude and at this point you didn't care. Corroded Coffin had sold out their first world tour and Eddie along with the rest of the band had been celebrating for the past month since their manager told them the amazing news. you were proud, your long term boyfriend had achieved something that he only dreamed about.

but the partying was too much for you. he'd sleep throughout the day, wake up in the late afternoon and eat, then get ready and leave to party. it was a constant cycle which you absolutely hated. most of the time Eddie would call you in the early hours to come pick him up from a party which meant you were losing sleep just to look after him.

Eddies eyes widened at your tone, you voice was always calm and filled with kindness but not this time. you were mad and he could tell. "are you mad at me or something?" he ran a hand through his tangled hair and scratched the back of his neck. last night, well that morning at 4am, Eddie had called you to come get him from a party which was almost an hour away from your house.

it was stupid of you to say yes but you wanted to make sure he got home safe. even though he was acting like an asshole he was still your boyfriend and you loved him but this new version of him upset you. you slammed the cupboard shut and focused on the food in front of you. "what do you think Eddie?" you shook your head at his stupid question. you had tried to speak to Eddie about his new habits but he never listened. he sighed "is this because of last night? it was a one time-"

"a one time thing? are you being serious right now? this wasn't a one time thing, this has been an almost two month thing. i'm sick and tired of you going out every single day, drinking and doing drugs. it looks like you missed your nose last night because it's all over your face" he quickly wiped his face with his hands trying to get rid of the powder but it was too late.

"do you know how stupid you are being? i get you've sold out a tour and that's amazing. i'm really proud of you. you've wanted this for so long and you finally have it but your actions are disgusting Eddie. you look practically dead and you're hurting me. imagine what Wayne would think if he found out what you were doing?" you looked directly at him and saw the anger in his eyes.

"how dare you. this has nothing to do with Wayne or you. you're just fucking jealous that i'm having a good time whilst you're here all by yourself. i'm allowed to do whatever i want, i'm an adult and if i wanna go out and do drugs then that's my decision. you aren't my mum and i'm sick of you acting like her" he walked out of the kitchen and made his way to the front door, quickly putting on his trainers before slamming.

"where are you going? we need to speak about this Eddie. you can't just run away then come back like nothing had happened" you shouted as you followed him. "well good thing i'm not coming back. fuck you" and with that he was out the door, leaving you stood there dumbfounded.

-

Eddie was at this random party completely smashed. he'd been this high in his entire life and he felt like the entire room was spinning. he didn't even know where he was so he could call you to come get him, he just followed Mason the lead singer of Corroded Coffin. his head was slung back against the sofa, eyes closed trying to drown out the music.

he had told Gareth about the fight you had and for once Gareth had stayed somewhat sober to look after Eddie and after see him now he knew he had to call you to come get him. you weren't to far away luckily so you immediately got into your car and made your way over to the house.

“you falling asleep on me baby?” Eddie was quickly pulled out of his thoughts when he realised there was a random groupie sat on his lap. she looked like she had been sat there for a while because she looked very comfortable, her arm was around his neck and she was running her hand through his hair.

you had finally arrived to the house, there was red cups all over the front garden, people passed out, couples kissing and loud music with flashing lights coming from inside the house. you walked in the music was shaking the house and the smell of sweat and alcohol filled your nose. you walked through the house, pushing through the sweaty bodies of people dancing trying to find either Gareth or Eddie.

you finally found Gareth in the kitchen with a girl in front of him, he was smiling and speaking to her about something you couldn't make out and you honestly felt kind of bad for interrupting him. "Gareth" he turned to see you in the doorway and felt relieved to see you here. "y/n hi" he let go of the girl who looked between the two of you. "is she your girlfriend?" the girl asked giving you a dirty look.

"no" you both said shaking your heads at her. "i'm sorry to take him away but i need help finding Eddie" you said to the girl but she quickly understood and sent you a small smile before Gareth brushed last you to help you find Eddie. "he is so stupid. i'm sorry he spoke to you like that earlier. we've just all been so excited about the tour but he's taken it a bit to far this time" Gareth shouted over the loud music to you.

"it's okay, he just needs to-" you were cut off by seeing Eddie and a random girl you'd never seen before on the living room sofa, her hands all over him and his arms were around her waist. you had walked past him earlier and didn't even realise. “Eddie what the fuck man?" Gareth shouted pulling the girl off of him. you didn’t even give him time to speak to you because you walked out the front door, heart breaking at the sight which now clouded your mind.

“baby wait” you heard him shout after you, speech slurred, but you continued to walk to your car, not wanting to hear his excuses. he tripped up over the coffee table, his mind hazy as he tried his best to stand up. "shit" he said as he finally got his bearings and ran to the front door to see you walking toward your car. you were rummaging through your bag trying to find your car keys.

"y/n, sweetheart please wait. it really wasn't what you thought" he caught up to you, grabbing your arm gently as you went to pull out the keys from your bag. your eyes were filled with tears, he’d never seen you this upset and it was all his fault. “what was it then Eddie? you were sat on the sofa trying your hardest to push her off because guess what, it didn’t look like that. you looked like you were enjoying yourself now leave me alone” you said shrugging his grip off of you and unlocking your door.

“i didn’t even know she was on me, she was kissing my neck but i wasn’t doing anything back” you shook your head and got into the car, his excuse was poor. “i don’t want to talk to you, go back into the party with your groupie and leave me alone. we can have a conversation about us when you sober up. i need to think about if i even wanna be with you anymore” and with that you shut your car door and drove home.

Eddie watched as your car drove off, his heart breaking as your words repeated in his head. he was definitely sober after hearing that. he understood how it looked, an argument followed by you finding another woman on top of him. it looked like he was trying to get some sort of revenge after you called him out but it wasn’t.

he would never ever do that to you and he was realising as he stood by the side of the road how much you do for him and how much of an absolute asshole he’d been for the past month. “fucking idiot” he said as he walked back into the party. he had a lot of work to do to get you back and he was willing to do anything to get you to forgive him.

-

you went to bed once you got home, making sure to lock your bedroom door so that Eddie couldn’t get in. you were hurting a lot when you woke up. you never thought you’d have to think about if you wanted to stay with Eddie but here you were sat against the headboard thinking about the past month and how much he had upset you. Eddie used to be loving, caring, selfless, but now it just felt like he was a completely different person.

after an hour of sitting in bed contemplating on what you should do you decided it wasn’t good for you to sit and mope around all day so you went to your en-suite bathroom to get ready and go out to distract yourself.

once you were ready you walked down the stairs to grab your bag and keys but you were surprised to hear muffled singing coming from your kitchen. you frowned and walked towards the sound and was shocked to see Eddie plating up breakfast. he heard your footsteps and looked up from the plate. this was the first time you had seen him showered and in comfortable clothes in almost two months and it was nice to see him look somewhat normal.

“hi” he said, a small smile appeared on his face as he moved away from the plate so you could sit down at the kitchen island. “i haven’t seen you up this early for ages” you said quietly as you sat down. it was 9am and Eddie hadn’t been up this early since even before they sold out the tour. he sighed and nodded.

“i think we need to talk Eddie” his heart dropped at your words. this was it. this was where you’d break up with him because he’d been so stupid. “can you sit down please?” you asked, the chair next to you was turned so he could sit down next to you.

he said down next to you, exhaling as he tried to stop himself from breaking down. he was adamant that you were breaking up with him and you had every right to do so. he had treated you so horribly this past month and he only had himself to blame. he put a bit of distance between your chairs and waited for you to talk. “are you okay?” you asked and watched him nod his head. you were a caring person and even though you were mad at him you always liked to make sure he was alright.

“yesterday was probably the worst i had ever seen you and it really scared me. i’ve tried to understand why you go out every night. i know that you’re celebrating your tour and you have every right to do so but i’d think after the first maybe week of you celebrating the buzz would wear down but it didn’t. some nights i would think that you just went out because you didn’t want to be at home with me. then i found out you were doing drugs. hardcore drugs and that scared me even more. you know i love you and to see change completely from the loving Eddie to this man who i don’t even recognise hurt me so much”

you felt your eyes well up with tears as you expressed how you felt. “i would try to talk to you and you’d just snap and i was so confused, i still am because i don’t get why you’d damage yourself like that. i want to understand why but i think it’s best that we get you clean honey, this has been going on for too long now and i’m scared i’m going to lose you” you said, a few tears ran down your cheeks.

“i’m not breaking up with you. we can move past all of this if you sort yourself out. we won’t be back to how we were for a while but i just want you to get better because i love you so much” you felt his arms go around your waist as he hugged you tightly. you felt hot tears on your neck as he sobbed, relief filling his body as he realised you weren’t gonna leave him.

“i’m so sorry y/n i really am. last night i swear on everything that i didn’t do anything to that girl. i didn’t even know she was there. i would never do that to you and i’m gonna get clean i promise, i’ll never touch anything ever again” you heard his muffled voice rubbing your hand up and down his back as the two of you cried. he felt you nod before a small, delicate kiss was placed on his head. you were gonna stay here with him whilst he got better and that was all he needed.

[kkami-writes]

Black Blood - Chapter Three. wc. 1.2k + 10 SS

Introductions had been brief and you tried your best to remember them, repeating the names over and over in your head, which was what you were doing now while laid in your new bed. The room was small but rather cozy, just a singular bed and desk, nothing else occupying the space and you briefly wondered who had lived in here before. 

Glancing at the clock it read 4am, the last two hours since you had said goodnight had been a blur, much like time usually was for you when you had nothing to do (which was most of the time). While you didn’t need to sleep, you still loved to close your eyes and let the hours pass by - but with your thoughts bouncing around in your head you know you won’t be able to get any rest. So instead, you decide to at least spend some of your time wisely, moving out of your new room to explore the rest of their little apartment.

In order to make less noise you had taken off your heels. If you were honest, you hated them. You were clumsy enough without them, the amount of times you had almost broken an ankle is far too many to count. Walking around, you noticed that their place is rather big, enough to fit all of them comfortably with a nice kitchen area with three fridges. You briefly wonder why they would need three, but with eight boys they probably ate a lot. Still, it made you laugh at the fact they had three whole ass fridges. 

The shared living space had a large black leather couch sitting in front of a TV. It wasn’t the cleanest space with scattered boxes around but it wasn’t terrible, and honestly you were surprised it was rather put together for eight boys who looked around college age. 

Not feeling like confining yourself up in your new room, it was a little too depressing to be in to be honest, just the bed and desk being your only company. Instead, you decide to just chill on the couch, which was a lot more comfy than you thought. Hours were spent like this, just mindlessly scrolling through your phone and you don’t even notice when the sun slowly starts to come up.

When the first boy wakes up he’s dragging himself out of his room, yawning loudly before he makes eye contact with you. He seems shocked to see you just chilling on the couch in their living room, and perhaps you think he’s forgotten that you were here, hoping that last night had just been a nightmare. 

You smile a little awkwardly at him, greeting him a good morning as you check the time. 7:30. Damn, now you feel really bad for partially being the reason they had gotten less sleep than normal. Hopefully they could get some more rest later. Your voice seems to finally stir him out of his sleepy haze as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. Chan. You’re pretty sure that’s what his name was, the redhead. 

“Ah, right. Um. Good morning,” 

“You’re up early. I’m surprised,”

“Yeah, we have a lot of work to do right now so unfortunately, no sleeping in for us. Sorry- I don’t really have time to talk right now, I need to get the other boys up and ready,” You simply nod your head in understanding, waving him off and telling him you were fine, to not worry about the demon in his living room. Chan laughs a little awkwardly before sliding into another room and you can hear the other person letting out an annoyed groan. 

It doesn’t take long for the apartment to become a chaotic mess, boys scrambling in and out of doors, trying to complete their morning routines. They look like a bunch of ants, all scattered around and yelling at each other. It’s entertaining to say the least but you can spot several of them with dark circles, easily seeing how tired they are as they drag themselves across their dorm. 

With a sigh, you move to get up, heading towards their kitchen as you search for a coffee machine. You decide to make yourself somewhat useful if they weren’t going to use you for your “intended purpose”. While tempting, you didn’t want to just sit there like an idiot, doing nothing. It was the least you could do for now. 

One of them is by the door, putting on his shoes and adjusting the bag he has over his shoulder. He’s just about to leave before you call out to him and he looks up at you with a slightly confused face, even as you push the to-go cup into his hands. 

“Um…Hyunjin? Right?”  He nods, slightly surprised that you had even remembered his name and honestly, you are too. “It’s just uh, coffee. I just thought maybe you’d guys would like some. Um, you don’t have to take it of course if you don’t want any,” You’re rambling now so you shut yourself up. To be honest you don’t know what you’re doing, this situation is so out of your depth and it was making you act weird. You were good for one thing, and one thing only and it certainly wasn’t making coffee for 8 tired college(?) students. 

Before you can take it away, he’s grabbing onto the cup and subsequently your hands.

“Ah no! It’s fine! Thank you, I’ll take it,” Hyunjin is smiling at you and for a second you can’t help but think that his smile is almost prettier than he is. His eyes dart down your figure for a moment before he’s flushing, ears turning pink as he averts his eyes. It’s then you realize that you’re still clad in your normal clothes, which is just the lingerie you had been wearing the night before. Still, you find it rather endearing that he can’t look at you now without staring at your chest, which in his defense is completely on display. 

“Um! Thanks again! Ok, I gotta go, bye!” He’s quick to throw himself out the door, a small tittering laugh leaves your lips at his antics. You end up giving each boy a cup of coffee, each of them thanking you in return with little to no eye contact. You briefly wonder if you should change - or keep it on just to tease them. 

Chan is the last one out of the door, thanking you for the coffee but politely refused since he didn’t prefer the drink. 

“So, uh- I know things haven’t really been explained yet and hopefully we can soon but um. The gist for now is please do not leave the apartment. It would be really bad if people were to see you,” You hadn’t been expecting to be let out of the house of course, but the way he emphasizes this fact makes you curious. You let it go for now, assuming you’d get answers to everything later. 

“No problem, you got it boss. Oh, here’s my number by the way. Text or call if you need anything, I can be there in a second,” You hand him a piece of paper with your number as you quickly summon your phone into existence, waving it around. Chan wasn’t sure if he would ever get used to the small magic you could do, much less come to terms with having an actual demon in the dorms.

[ros3ybabe]

Day 10 - 90 Day Challenge 🎀

I feel really good about today. I got a lot done despite trying to nap three times (I wasn't able to actually get any sleep), and the only reason I kept trying to nap was because I've been up since 3am. It's easy to get a lot done when you've been up forever.

🏋‍♀️ Physical Health

took a walk around campus outside

logged most of everything I ate into my food tracking app

cooked a healthy breakfast + ate a serving of fruit (red grapes)

🧠 Mental Health

morning guided journal

night time guided journal

retail therapy <3 (bought some makeup on the ulta app)

❤️ Emotional Health

read 2 sections of 101 Essays to Change the Way You Think

answered the journal prompt "what is one of my limiting self beliefs?"(realized I'm the reason I don't have many friends, need to change that)

📚 Intellectual Health

finished chapter 13 notes for psyc

completed all of chapter 14 notes for psyc

selected my articles for my reflection paper for my health and sport class + formatted Google docs for each article reflection writing

(This all took me 2.5 hours from 4am to 630am, the perks of accidentally waking up early as heck)

🏘 Adulting

organized my desk drawer

reached out + invited my older brother to come see me since he was in town (he'll be here soon!)

had a phone call with my dad

🥰 Self Love/Care

morning skincare

night skincare (just moisturizer, I was tired)

took a warm shower + brushed my teeth (as gross as it sounds that I don't do it every day, depression sucks and I'm proud of myself for even one win )

made my bed (trying to make it a habit)

let in morning sunlight until it began to get dim outside (keeps electricity costs down and boosts my mood when I'm in my room)

I am very proud of myself for today despite my lack of motivation these last few days. Hopefully, this carries over to tomorrow, and I can be productive at least a little bit before i have to go to work. There's still time in the day, but I'm satisfied with today, which is why I'm posting this a bit early in the evening. Thank you and much love to everyone who has been commenting encouraging and supportive things it makes it easier to be open and honest about my struggles, mental health, and overall well-being.

til next time, lovelies 🩷

[mbappeward]

kylian mbappe imagine - you are sick and he takes care of you

𝗺𝗯𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

enjoy!!!

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

Sinking to your knees weakly, you reach out to flush the toilet. You groan as you feel your stomach churn again—throwing up was absolutely your least favorite thing to do. You hated it. You would do literally anything to avoid throwing up. And yet here you were, 4am in the morning, hunched over the toilet and doing the thing you hated most in the world. 

You hear the bathroom door open just as your stomach heaves again and you lean over the bowl, tears stinging your eyes. You felt really bad for waking him up since he has training early tomorrow.

    “Oh, babygirl,” Kylian says softly, and you feel him pull your hair back from your face. Holding it in a messy ponytail in one hand, he rubs your back with the other. “It’s okay, you’re okay…”

    As soon as you can, you straighten, flushing away the mess again. You reach up to wipe at your eyes and do a quick systems check; deciding you were okay for just a moment longer, you start to get to your feet. 

 “Easy love,” he says, releasing your hair to wrap his arm around your waist in support. “You ok?”

  “Need to rinse my mouth,” you mutter, heading for the sink. 

  He helps you get there and once again holds your hair back while you swish a mouthful of water, trying to rid yourself of the reminder. “How long have you been up?” he asks, one arm wrapped tight around your waist to keep you upright. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”

   You laugh bitterly and spit the water out. “Didn’t really have time to do anything but get to the toilet, and you have training in like 8 hours” you say tiredly, "I wanted to let you sleep, and I’m sure the first thing you want to do is join me while I’m throwing up everything in my stomach.” Straightening, you turn to face him, trying to put on a smile. 

 He frowns, reaching out to gently push your hair away from your pale face. “What did you eat? Do you think it’s food poisoning?”

  You shrug, but soon the sharp cramps in your stomach guide you to your answer. “Maybe. …Are you feeling okay?”

  “Yes. Oh, babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He leans down to kiss your sweaty forehead. “Do you want to go back to bed?”

    You hesitate for a moment, trying to decipher how you’re feeling: though your stomach hurts, you don’t seem to be in immediate danger of throwing up again. “Yeah. You should get back to sleep, babe, you’ve got training tomorrow.”

    “I don’t care about training now,” he says immediately. “I’m just worried about you.”

    “It’s okay. I’ll get over it…” you reassure him, turning away to head back to the bedroom, but before you can take two steps, he scoops you into his arms. “Kylian, what are y–?”

    He cradles you against him, easily carrying you back to the bed and setting you down softly. “Just relax,” he says, leaning over to kiss your forehead again. You see his concerned expression just briefly before he forces a cheerful smile. “I’m going to go get a bottle of soda,” he explains. “I think that will help settle your stomach. I’ll be right back!”

    While he’s gone, you lean back in bed, settling gingerly against the pillows and resisting the urge to groan at how much your stomach just hurts. Reaching for your phone, you type a short email to your CEO, explaining that you wouldn’t be in the meeting the next day, then set your phone aside. It’s too close to midterms for this…

   Kylian appears just then, carrying a bottle of cola, a bottle of water, and a bottle of sports drink with him. “What’s wrong?” he asks immediately, frowning at the obvious pain on your face.

    “It just hurts,” you say, rolling onto your side and curling into a ball. 

    He sits on the edge of the bed, his distress apparent. “What can I do?” Setting the three bottles on the nightstand, he grabs at the sweatshirt fabric at your hip. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

    Both arms still wrapped across your stomach, you manage a reassuring smile. “No.”

    “But—”

    “If it’s still this bad tomorrow, then maybe we can go,” you interrupt him, reaching out to put your hand on his leg. “But right now I just want to…”

    “Rest,” he finishes for you. Reaching out, he softly strokes your face. “Okay, babygirl, okay. Here.” He grabs the bottle of cola and opens it carefully. “Try a sip of this.”

    With his help, you manage to get up and sip a few swallows of soda. “Thanks.” You smile at him weakly. “Hopefully this will kill whatever I’ve got.”

    He sits back a little, pouting at you “Yeah…” 

    “Hey.” You wait for him to look back at you. “I’m all right. Come lie down, go back to sleep.”

    As soon as he meets your eye, his cheerful positivity is back. “All right, all right, just a second. First, is there anything I can get for you? Something that will make you more comfortable?” When you shake your head, he frowns slightly. “Are you sure?”

    You nod, grimacing slightly as your stomach cramps again. “I just…just gotta get through the worst of it.”

    He’s definitely not happy about it, but he accepts what you want. Leaning down, he spreads a few soft kisses across your forehead and temple. “You will. I’m right here, okay?” Standing up, he fixes the blanket over your feet. “I think it’s a good sign that—”

    Before he can finish, you kick the blanket off and roll off the bed, stumbling for the bathroom once again. You don’t even bother to turn on the light, heading straight for the toilet in the dark. As you make it to your target, the lights suddenly burst to life, and in seconds you feel Kylian gathering your hair again. This time he doesn’t say much: he simply holds your hair back and keeps a careful grip on your waist. 

    You’re left exhausted, and when you move to sit on the floor to rest for just a second, he moves with you. Instead of collapsing against the toilet seat, you’re pulled into his arms, where he does his best to keep you off the cold tile floor while you recover. 

    Pressing his lips to the side of your head, he murmurs, “breathe in and out slowly baby.”

    You’re too worn out to do anything but nod slightly. With how hard you always fought not to throw up, you forgot how much it takes out of you. 

    He kisses your temple again. “Ready to rinse your mouth?”

   You agree, but before you can even move, he’s getting to his feet with you still cradled in his arms. He carries you over to the sink and sets you gently on the counter, turning on the faucet to a comfortable temperature. While he waits for you to swish the water around your mouth, he’s constantly touching you, squeezing your knee or rubbing your back or tucking your hair behind your ear, little gestures that betray how worried he is. 

    When you finally feel a little refreshed, you lean back against the mirror tiredly. “I hate this” you say flatly. 

    This causes the corner of his mouth to tilt up just slightly. “I know, love” he commiserates, grabbing your hand and pressing your knuckles against his lips briefly. 

  You open your eyes to study him. “I can’t believe you’re even able to be around me right now,” you say. “This is pretty disgusting. I’m pretty disgusting.”

    Clucking his tongue, he tucks your hair behind your ear again. “You’re pretty,” he corrects, then grows more serious: “And very sick.”

    “I really hope it’s not a stomach flu. You probably should stay away from me, just in case.”

    “No chance. I’ll be fine. What can I do for you?”

    “Kylian.”

    “Do you want to go lie down again? Or…?” A tiny bit of his concern bleeds through. “Do you want to stay here?”

    You study him again. He was so protective of you—so overprotective at times—that you could easily see how he was spinning this from a simple case of stomach flu or food poisoning into something much, much worse. For all of his pretending, he was a worrier—just like you. Smiling faintly, you reach for his hand again. “I think I’m going to sit here for just a second longer. Just…just to be sure. You can go lie down again, if you need to?”

    Squeezing your hand, he eases himself on the counter next to you somewhat defiantly. 

    Knowing that you wouldn’t be able to change his mind, you sigh, but can’t deny how much you like having him near you. You lean back against the mirror, letting your thoughts drift while you wait to see what your stomach is thinking. “I hate how weak it makes me feel,” you admit.

    “You are strong,” he defends. “Throwing up is really hard on the body. You’re allowed to feel a little exhausted and ‘weak’.”

     You nod. There’s a pause, then: “…I bet it was that macaroni I ate in the restaurant.” Your stomach gurgles at the mere mention of the food. 

 Your stomach lurches suddenly and you lean forward, he sits forward with you, his expression concerned. After a moment of nothing, you sit back. “I’m okay. False alarm.”

    Nodding, he continues his forward motion, disappearing from the bathroom for just a second. When he returns, he has the bottle of yellow sports drink with him. “We need to keep your electrolytes up,” he explains, handing it to you. “Keep you hydrated.” He notices your glum expression. “I know you don’t like the yellow kind, but we don’t have anything else. I’ll go out in a few hours and get you more.”

    “No, I—” You shake your head and reach for the bottle. “You definitely don’t have to do that. The yellow is just fine. I just…I don’t want to drink anything right now, you know?”

    He caresses the side of your face. “Yeah, I know. But still—”

    “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you agree, guzzling some of the drink and showing your own slightly petty side. When you finish, you realize how much you want to lie down. “I think I’m ready to go back to bed. My stomach’s pretty calm for right now.”

    He nods and immediately moves to scoop you into his arms again.

    “Why ar—?”

    “This,” he says, holding your arms around his neck carefully, “is non-debatable '' Looking into your face, he smiles slightly. “Come on, just let me take care of my baby girl, ok? I can’t make you magically stop throwing up, but I can do this.”

    You give in easily, hating to admit how much you liked being babied by him but comforting yourself with the fact that it also helped soothe his own nerves. He sets you down just as carefully as before, kisses your cheek, and then crawls on the bed next to you. You try to find a position that doesn’t aggravate you more while he gingerly reaches over you to turn off your bedside lamp, then reaches for his phone. After a second, the quirky intro of one of your favorite calm song plays and he leans back against the headboard next to you. He smooths a strand of your hair back, then shifts to gently stroking your face, absently tracing your eyebrows as the sound fills the room.

Kylian looks over at you and sees you are still awake. He leans over to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, baby girl. Just relax as much as you can. I’m right here.”

    “I know, Kylian,” you agree, relieved to feel the cramps in your stomach ease up enough that you can feel sleep pulling at you. “Thank you.”

40 minutes later, you’re woken by the familiar, unpleasant feeling in your stomach. You bolt upright, swinging your feet out of the bed in a hurry; you’re so focused on getting to the bathroom, you don’t even notice the way Kylian wakes in an absolute panic.

    As you kneel in front of the stupid toilet yet again, you miserably realize that this was going to be one of those elongated moments, where your body was going to drag out the inevitable for as long as possible. Groaning, you close your eyes and wish for it to be over.

    “It’s all right, babygirl,” you hear his soft, exhausted voice behind you. You suddenly start crying “I’m so sorry, i didn't let you sleep” While you’re waiting, he starts braiding your hair; it’s messy, but the style keeps your hair out of your face well enough. He massages the small of your back.

    You go to shake your head, but feel your stomach lurch at that exact moment, and any comment you had in mind evaporates immediately. When you’re done, he carries you back to the sink, waiting patiently for you to rinse out your mouth before carrying you back to bed. He makes you drink more of the sports drink, he leared this because his mom used to give him sports drink when he was younger, then tucks you back in. 

    This time, you cuddle against him, needing his comfort more than your space. “I hate this,” you complain to the darkness.

    He hugs you closer. “I know.” Then, “….Do you want to go to the hospital?”

   You sigh. “No. It just sucks, that’s all.”

   Kissing the top of your head, he murmurs an agreement. 

When your eyes open again, you look first at the clock: 8:36am. Your gaze automatically goes to the man next to you, who’s slowly waking up at your movement. 

    “Kylian?? wake up—training?” you say worriedly, trying to blink the exhaustion out of your eyes. “What— oh”

    He shakes his head, sitting up partially. “Don’t worry. Are you okay?” He’s instinctively getting ready to guide you to the bathroom once again. 

    “I’m not going to throw up right now,” you answer. “Do you know what time it is?” You say shocked because he never misses training.

    He glances at the clock. “Not time for you to be awake yet,” he answers mildly. “You haven’t had enough sleep, not even close.” Seeing your concern, he fixes a strand of your hair. “I’m taking the day off. I already messaged the staff about this. Don’t worry, babygirl. How are you feeling?”

    You take a moment to consider his question. Though you were feeling a little better, your stomach still felt sick and every muscle in your body was exhausted. “I’m….a little better,” you try to answer truthfully and hopefully. 

    “Really?” he asks intently, searching your face for the truth. 

    “Yeah. I’m just…worn out. Not even just tired, but….you know, worn out.”

    He nods and starts to climb out of bed. “I know.”

    “Wh—where are you going?” you frown, struggling to sit up a little. 

    He tiredly pulls on a sweatshirt and looks for a hat. “The convenience store. You need more sports drinks.”

    “Kylian…”

    “Shh.” He stands up but you grab his hand.

    You exhale softly. “I know you’re exhausted. Just come sleep a little longer, I don’t need anything more right this second.”

    He kisses your forehead “I’ll be back as soon as i can. Call me if you need anything, ok?” Before he leaves, he turns on the TV, knowing how much you hate complete silence. Pressing his hand to his mouth, he gives you a small flying kiss and leaves.

   While you are watching a movie, you hear Kylian open the front door. When he appears in the doorway to the bedroom, he’s carrying a plastic bag filled with sports drinks and sweets & snacks. Pulling his mask off, he gives you a smile. “How are you?”

    “Still the same.” You paw through the plastic bag. 

    “Did you infer that I was dying or something?”

    He looks up quickly, and you can see from his expression that he’s guilty. “No! Well, I…not dying, definitely not, but…You were so sick last night, babygirl, you had me really worried.”

    You smile fondly, your exasperation fading. “You took really good care of me, babe,” you say. “Thank you.”

    Setting the bag on the foot of the bed, he sits next to you, leaning over to kiss your forehead for a long time. “I’m sorry you don’t feel well. We’ll get you through this.” He reaches for the bag with one hand, his eyes never leaving your face. “I got all the non-yellow sports drinks I could find!”

    This makes you laugh. “Then I’ll be better in no time!”

    He strokes the side of your face tenderly. “I hope so, baby girl. But I’m here until then.”

   He joins you under the blanket and you guys cuddle the day while watching romantic/movies.

------

I hope this is okay!! If you have any recommendations or suggestions, let me know!! <3

[isalisewrites]

A ramble on writing where April broke my heart

Hooo boi.

March was a dream in comparison to April.

Emergency gallbladder surgery? Someone faking their death in my server? Good times. I wanna go back.

I have been through much in three short months. April has shown that it's taken a toll. I have missed many more days of writing. I'm still missing them in May. But I'm slowly gripping onto the last vestiges of my raw determination, all while in the face of so much.

I had a falling out with my closest family member that shook me to the core of my heart. I barely slept for most of the month again. Gallbladder surgery has proven to have some complications on my nervous system, making normal daily life difficult where it's hard to sit or lie down without experiencing full body numbness and tingling in various areas, including my hands and fingers. (No, not blood clots. 100% without a doubt it's my nerves.)

If you've followed me here (post one and two) and have read my author's on Terrible, But Great Chapter 30, then you know what went down with my family member. It took so much of my time and energy. I wrote well over 8,000 words trying to reason with this family member, only for all of it to be scorned and mocked. A part of me feels like that energy was wasted. I could have 8,000 more words in TBG, but I don't. This is all I have.

A part of me looks at it and says, "Give it back. Give me back my writing." What happened to January? Or even February? What happened to the girl who could wake up at 4am in the morning, an hour before she had to leave for her hysteroscopy, to power write 700 words?

Some days, I go up the stairs and I'm winded like I ran a marathon.

Some days, if I walk on the treadmill for more than 6 to 10 minutes, I feel like I'm dying.

It's been an uphill battle. The struggle is real, but so am I.

In the last week of December of 2023, when I realized how long it would take me to finish Terrible, But Great, I was overcome with what I call 'The Stirring.' I don't know what else to call it, but it always has an air of mystery and premonition for what it is to come. I thought at that time, "If I had limited time to live, what do I want to do?"

"I want to write."

So, I did.

In 2023, I published a total of 43,000 words in TBG. In 2024, from January to April, I've written 110,604 words and have published 35,000 words thus far. The year isn't even halfway over and I've done better this year than I have last year.

In spite of it all, I'm doing pretty damn good.

There's still hope. I'm not giving up. It might feel like morale is low, but it's not. I'm going to keep going as much as I can through all the hardships because writing is truly the one thing that breathes life into me.

By the end of April, I finished my business class with an essay about how the class shifted my beliefs. This class in combination with all of my health issues and social conflicts sparked an overwhelming revelation and a new rising determination within my soul.

You see, you all have witnessed my love and passion for writing Terrible, But Great, a Harry Potter fanfiction, but I also have original stories that I've wanted to write. Yet, I haven't been able to finish them because I'm always thinking about the market in the real world, instead of what I want and what the story wants. Fanfiction, I can do whatever the hell I want and yall are just gonna have to strap in and hold onto dear life cause it's gonna be a bumpy ride. Original novels, however, are done differently and I've often struggled due to so many factors.

I have ADHD. I am autistic. I have health issues which are rapidly piling up on top of each other. My career choice might not even be feasible for me in the long run, so why I am allowing myself to be pressured into doing more than I can handle with a class load?

I want to write. I want to write. I want to create.

Oh, how I want to create.

So, I will.

Two years ago, I gave up on my dream of writing original novels and earning a living through them. I've since repented of that notion. As I continue write Terrible, But Great, I'm also going to be working on my original novels on the side. Someday, perhaps, I'll be able to earn a living as a published author.

That's my realistic ideal.

I wrote 457 words today, May 9th. That's good enough. The goal this month is to write more than April. I can do that. On the days where prose is hard, I simply write my scene idea in a zero draft style. I don't worry about the prose; I'll fix it later. Every word counts. Every word can be changed. Every word can be made better.

Every word is good enough.

Until next month.

[p1x3lscene]

Sharing a bed with the CreepyPastas

Sfw,fluff a small mention of nsfw in Jeff’s

gender neutral reader a small mention of fem reader in Jeff’s includes Jeff,Toby,Tim,Ben,xvirus,Liu

There will probably be a pt2

Toby

Toby 100% sleep talks you’ll wake up in the middle of the night to him saying some random shit he won’t remember it and be confused in the morning

Toby’s bipolar so when he’s manic he doesn’t sleep much so be prepared

He’s amazing to cuddle he’s soooo squishy (idk if you know what I mean😭) he likes being little spoon he can’t fall asleep unless your cuddling him

He has some squish mellows but he doesn’t cuddle them anymore cuz he has you

He’s a blanket hog he gets cold when he sleeps but he can’t sleep unless it’s cold so he has fans everywhere

He can’t sleep in silence he leaves the tv on or a fan

Has nightmares about the car accident when he wakes up he holds you so tight and cry’s as you calm him down

9/10 to share a bed with

Jeff

Like Toby he sleep talks but he all so sleepwalks

You’ll fall asleep cuddling him and wake up in the middle of the night and he’s doing a fucking cartwheel

He gets really bad nightmares like Toby he’ll wake up crying don’t say anything just hold him

He’s all so really good to cuddle your definitely being the little spoon

I headcannon Jeff to be a fucking perv so when your cuddling he’ll put his hands under your shirt and touch your boobs

Not a blanket hog he gets hot when he sleeps so he’ll stop cuddling you after awhile cuz he’s hot :(

Doesn’t go to bed till like 2am so you’ll probably already asleep when he goes to bed

8/10 to share a bed with

Liu

Our sweet boy as such a hard time trying to go to sleep after what happened with Jeff

You’ll have to calm him down and get him relaxed enough to fall asleep you’ll have to keep telling him it’s ok and nothing will happen

You’ll probably have to drug him with NyQuil

Once he finally falls asleep he’s so cuddly he’s the little spoon

He gets terrible nightmares about the incident with his brother he wakes up in so much fear pls hold and comfort him

Like Toby he sleeps cold he’s holding on to you for dear life cuz he’s so cold

10/10 to share a bed with

Tim

Bro flops around like a fish

Omfg Its like sharing a bed with a coked out monkey

Like he moves so much that you have to yell at him in the middle of the night to lay still

He gets up in the middle of the night to smoke so if you wake up and he’s not there he’s smoking

Your the little spoon he sleeps hot so some point he’ll stop cuddling you

There’s a couple cigarette burns in the blankets

His room smell like cigarettes it’s really strong

He super cuddly he’ll hold you like he’ll never see you again

You’ll probably be asleep when he goes to bed you never know when he’s going to be home

Honestly a 8/10

X virus

Cody doesn’t go to bed till like 4am y’all sleep in the basement cuz slender doesn’t let him up stairs till his showered and washed his hand 4 times

It’s really cold in the basement so he has a lot of blankets

He stays up all night making viruses that probably could start a apocalypse if a zombie out break happens the virus came from the slender mansions basement

Once he finally goes to bed he just flops down beside you he’s the little spoon he lays there waiting on you to cuddle him

Before he gets in y’all’s bed he showers so chemicals don’t get on the bed

A solid 9/10 you might catch a deadly virus

Ben

Like Cody bro doesn’t go to bed till like 6am he’s up all night he really doesn’t need sleep cuz he’s not human

You’ll have to force him to go to sleep

Once you convince him to lay with you he’ll cuddle you your the little spoon

He has so many blankets and stuffed animals most of them are video game characters

His rooms really cold so you’ll need all of the blankets

As you fall asleep he’ll play with your hair

Once you fall asleep he gets back up and starts playing a video game :(

10/10 unless your a light sleeper

Sorry some of these are short but hope you enjoyed

Take your coin slot ass to bed I know your reading this at like 2am

Eat something drinks some water and GO TO BED love ya