#i swear the editing has gotten worse too

[bardinthezone]

if i make it through all of moffat's run it'll be an act of god

hell if I make through all of 11's run it'll be an act of god

[querenciasturniolo]

ghost ⮕ s.t.

word count: 4.1k

warnings: depictions of death (no active murder), mentions of death, mentions of vomit, blood, suspense, anxiety, fear, swearing

summary: murders in los angeles have been happening left and right, and right as you think it couldn’t get any worse, one of your best friends is gone.

a/n: this took much longer than it should have, and for that i’m sorry, but i have a few things to say beforehand. this was inspired by multiple edits, two separate convos i had with @floofparker and @champangekisses , scream being one of my FAVORITE scary movies, and, of course, the iconic “WHO’S MOST LIKELY TO BE THE GHOSTFACE KILLERRRR” from chris. this took FOREVER, but i’m so proud of it and so excited to put it out. this is pretty reminiscent to the movie, but i added my own little spin on it. PLEASE read the bolded disclaimer and take it to heart, i don’t think anything that goes down in this fic would actually happen, hence the name fanfiction. it’s supposed to be unrealistic, that’s the point. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

Twenty year old social media star Christopher (Chris) Sturniolo was found dead outside of his Los Angeles home on September 22, 2023. His brothers, who he made comedy videos with on multiple platforms, Nicolas and Matthew Sturniolo, claim their brother had been out with long-time friend and fellow content creator, Y/f/n Y/l/n, hours before.

Nick and Matt told police moments before they rushed out to find their brother with multiple stab wounds, they heard yelling and a struggle. When they reached Chris, the assailant was gone. Y/n hasn’t spoken about their day together prior to his death, and has refused to answer any questions asked. Her and Matt Sturniolo seem to have ended their year-long relationship shortly after this tragedy, but we all want to know why. Was there an affair? Was the guilt too much to keep the secret after Chris’ death?

On October 13, 2022, Y/n’s brother was murdered brutally, and their mother suffered a very public breakdown. The assailant in her brother’s case has yet to be found.

Chris Sturniolo’s murder was the fifth in a little less than two months. Police have yet to tell the public any of their leads in this string of serial murders, but have disclosed that they are far from closing these cases.

The article had only been out for an hour, and your Instagram and Tiktok were already being swarmed with notifications. So many, that you had to delete both apps off of your phone to keep it from crashing.

You hadn’t left your bed since that day, only to get something to eat and some water when you ran out—you couldn’t even go to the funeral. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer your phone, you couldn’t even answer the countless messages you scrolled through in the days following your best friend’s death.

Today was the day, you decided, that you were going to do something. Three weeks couldn’t have been too late to get your shit back together. You had woken up in the late afternoon and gotten into the shower, standing under the hot spray for what felt like forever and just allowing yourself to relax and release any tension in your body.

You had made a full meal for the first time since…that morning. You were nauseous the entire time you ate, but you had to do this. When your brother died, everyone told you that the best way to get through your grief was to continue your regular routine as much as possible. Filming a video was on your to do list. You weren’t going to post it, it was just for you to get back into the routine of talking to a camera.

Setting up your camera was the hardest part. You knew how to do it blindfolded by now, but the thought of doing anything like this, even if you weren’t going to post it, felt wrong, almost. It felt wrong to look into a camera and talk about that day, talk about your last day with Chris.

You sat down on your couch after pressing record and ran a hand over your face, finally looking into the lens and sighing.

“It’s been awhile.” You started, rolling your eyes at the corniness of your statement. “I don’t even know why I said that, I’m not even posting this.” You grumbled, dropping your head into your hands and carding your fingers through your hair. The burning in your throat started, and you continuously fought through the knot and forming tears.

You looked up again, hoping your eyes didn’t look as red as they felt. “I picked Chris up at ten fifteen, and we spent the entire day together. We went thrifting, as much as he complained the whole time.” You said, a ghost of a smile forming on your face as your eyes focused elsewhere.

“He, oh my God.” You said, chuckling to yourself and shaking your head. “He would throw whatever I had in my hands in the basket and ask if we were done yet, every time I picked something up. I don’t know what his problem was, considering he had gotten a few things too.” You said, sighing softly and glancing over at the camera.

“We went to lunch—that honestly sounds more fancy than it is, we stopped at In-n-Out—and we just came back to my house afterwards. We talked about…a lot of things.” You started, tears pooling in your eyes as you closed them and let yourself remember.

“We talked…we talked about life, and getting older.” You said, dropping your head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Fears, hopes and whatnot. We talked about everything.” You said, sighing softly as the remnants of Chris’ voice in your memory sang through.

“I don’t know what I want right now. I’m grateful that I’m doing so well, but in five years, where will I be?”

“It started getting late, so I took him home. He told me to come in if I wanted, but I…I was tired, I wanted to go home. He…he got out of the car, and I didn’t. I never...” You dropped your head in your hands again, your breathing labored as you fought off the guilt that had been deteriorating you for the last three weeks.

You lifted your head, about to stand and turn off your camera when your phone buzzed next to you. You sighed and flipped it over, frowning at the screen.

No Caller ID flashed before you. Usually you’d ignore the call, but something in you couldn’t resist as you slid the icon over and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You asked, your voice quiet and shaky.

“It was your fault, you know.”

You’d never ended a call so fast, your phone hitting the couch as you stared down at it with wide eyes. The voice was distorted, completely unrecognizable, but familiar at the same time. This was some sick joke, it had to be. You took a deep breath and shook your head.

You stood and walked over to your camera on weak knees, stopping the recording and taking your camera off of the tripod. As you shut off the camera, your phone buzzed on the couch. A sigh left your lips as you placed the camera on the coffee table and ran your hands through your hair.

What was the worst that could happen, right? You picked up your phone, No Caller ID still flashing across the screen. You slid the icon over again and pressed your phone to your ear.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

Your entire body went on high alert. “Who is this?” You asked, your voice trembling.

“That’s not important, what’s important is I know what really happened that day.”

All of the air left your lungs as you shakily sat down on the couch. “What are you talking about?” You asked. A dark chuckle rang through the receiver, your heart pounding in your ears as you waited for an answer.

“You didn’t wait for him to get inside, did you, Sweetheart?”

A broken sob left your lips as you hung up the phone and dropped it, your whole body shaking with each shattered cry that escaped you. The guilt was too much, it was the only thing about your last day with him that you couldn’t bring yourself to even say.

You blame yourself for Chris’ death, if you had just waited a few moments for him to get in the door, none of this would have happened. It was killing you every single day, not knowing if your being there would have changed anything.

You ignored the next call, and went through your contacts. Your finger hovered over Matt’s name, your chest aching as you swiped out of his contact, clicked the one under it, and held your phone to your ear. Before Nick could even finish his greeting, you were straining to get your words out of your mouth through the knot in your throat.

“Nick, something is wrong. Please, please come over.” You whispered into the phone, trying your best to keep your voice steady as his silence on the other end made your skin crawl.

“I’ll be there soon.”

You put your phone on the couch and took your time pacing around your living room.

Nick would be here soon, there was no reason to panic. The person on the phone was nothing, no one. Your phone’s incessant buzzing pulled you out of your pacing. You were frustrated now, the guilt and pain that you’d been holding in for so long was finally out in the open and slapping you right in the face.

How did they know? You hadn’t told anyone, you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it out loud.

It didn’t matter, the person on the phone had no idea what they were talking about, which sounded about as stupid as you thought it did, but it was the only thing keeping you from pulling your hair out of your head.

You pulled your phone from the couch and answered, the buzzing driving you up the wall.

“Listen, I’ve already called the police, and they’re tracing this call right no—”

The laughter on the other end cut you off, your heartbeat pounding in your ears as that sickening, metallic voice rang through the receiver.

“Oh, Sweetheart. We both know that isn’t true. I do know, however, that your little friend and boyfriend are on their way right now. Care to explain how they’re going to help you?”

Every hair on your body stood on end, your chest aching with the intensity of each beat against your rib cage. You fish-mouthed, unable to get any words out as the voice continued.

“How are they going to stop me, hm? How are they going to keep me from gutting you the same way I did your dear old friend, Chris? Or your brother?”

You froze, your gaze stuck to the floor as each word processed in your mind. “My brother?” You whimpered, a sinister chuckle vibrated against your ear.

“You heard me, Sweetheart. He put up quite the fight, too. More of a fight than your little friend.”

“Shut up!” You screamed into the receiver, hanging up the phone and throwing it across the room. You could distinctly hear the shatter of your screen as you crumpled in on yourself.

Michael’s murder had completely destroyed you. Your entire world was uprooted, and your mom, your mom hasn’t been the same since. She spends her days sitting in a rocking chair in front of the window, rocking slowly back and forth in a daze.

You’d never shaken more in your life, your entire body twitching and fighting each movement you tried to make as you stood from the floor. You needed to get up, you couldn’t let yourself stay on the ground or you’d never move.

Before you reached your kitchen, the sound of a knock at the door had you jumping out of your skin. It took everything in you to walk to the door and peek out the peephole, ripping it open the moment you registered Nick and Matt standing on your porch.

You hadn’t said a word before they rushed in and wrapped you in the tightest hugs you’d ever experienced in your life. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you pushed the door shut and held them tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” You sobbed, both of their arms holding you as you completely crumbled. “I didn’t wait for him to get inside, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault, he’d be here right now if it wasn’t for me. I’m so fucking sorry.” You rambled. Neither of them spoke, but their shoulders shaking softly against you answered the silent question of if they were listening.

When you finally pulled away, you were still shaking like a leaf. The guilt of holding it in for so long had been washed away, but the fear of that voice on the phone was still running rampant.

“No one blames you.” Nick said, his eyes rimmed red. “We’ve never blamed you. So you don’t need to worry about that.” You glanced at Matt, who’s eyes were still on the floor before you met Nick’s eyes again. “What happened?”

You sniffed and shook your head as you wiped at your face. “Nothing, it’s fine. It isn’t important.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around your abdomen as your eyes rested on Matt’s hunched frame. Nick sighed from where he stood and ran a hand over his face.

“I’ll leave you two to talk, but then I want to know what happened.” He said before he turned and walked towards the living room.

For what felt like hours, you and Matt stood across from each other in the mudroom of your childhood home, you staring at him, and him staring at the floor. When his eyes finally met yours, it felt as though your heart shattered and mended itself all at once. You hadn’t seen him since before Chris’ death, and the only message you’d sent him since then was telling him that the two of you needed to break up.

He looked as beautiful as he always had, but he looked different. Under his eyes were dusted in a dark purple, the whites of them tinged pink, his cheeks sunken in.

“Matty,” you whispered and took a step forward. He shook his head and looked back down at the floor.

“Why?”

It took everything in you not to wrap him in your arms and never let go. You knew exactly what he was asking you, and you knew the answer. It had taken these three weeks of you doing nothing more than surviving to realize you had no other reason to break up with Matt, other than the fact that looking at him would remind you of Chris, and you couldn’t handle it. It was selfish, and you could only imagine how he felt.

“I…I don’t have a good reason.”

Matt nodded and sniffed before looking up and meeting your eyes. The blue of his iris’ was striking against the red rimming his eyes. Your own eyes were burning as his gaze scanned over your face.

“Is it true?”

You frowned, confusion clouding your mind as he sighed and shook his head.

“What the article said, about you and Chris. Is it true? Was there…did you…”

You gasped as the realization hit you of what he was asking.

“Matt, what? I would never, I could never do that to you. I didn’t look at Chris like that, you know that.” You rambled on.

Matt nodded. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, just…a moment of weakness, I didn’t mean it.” He mumbled, taking a step closer to you. “Why did you end…us? I needed you, and you just…you shut me out.”

You took a deep breath in through your nose and shook your head. “I couldn’t bear looking at you and seeing him. I know, that’s selfish, and I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“I shattered the mirror in my bathroom the other night.”

You looked up, your eyebrows furrowed as Matt held up his hands. A gasp left your lips and you reached forward, delicately taking his cut up and bruised hands in yours. Before you could ask him why, he answered the silent question brokenly.

“Every time I looked in the mirror, I saw him.” You met his eyes again, and didn’t stop yourself as you pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I should have been there.” You mumbled into his shoulder, his arms tightening around your waist as he breathed you in. Neither of you said anything, just held each other for as long as the other needed.

“Um, Y/n? Did you do this on purpose?”

You pulled away from Matt and turned around, seeing Nick holding your shattered phone in his hand. You sighed and nodded, the fear you’d completely forgotten about creeping up.

“I was getting prank phone calls, it’s not that big of a deal.” You mumbled, pulling away completely and walking towards the living room.

“What kind of prank phone calls would make you shatter your phone?” Matt asked quietly, you turned to face him and shrugged your shoulders, trying desperately to hide the shaking of your hands. You didn’t want to talk about it, you couldn't talk about it. If you talked about it, that would make it real.

Before you could even sit on the couch, Nick’s phone was went off in his pocket. Your heart pounded as he pulled it out and looked down at it with a frown.

“No Caller ID?” He mumbled, your jaw dropping as he pulled it to his ear. It was a few moments of silence before he met your eyes and handed it to you. “They asked for you.”

You whimpered as you took the phone and pressed it to your ear, not saying a word as the mechanical voice spoke again.

“You really thought smashing your phone would get rid of me, Sweetheart?”

“What do you want?!” You cried, the other line buzzing in silence for only a moment before Matt stepped forward and almost snatched the phone from your hand.

“I’m upstairs, come find me.”

The line beeped right as Matt grabbed the phone and pressed it to his ear. You froze in your spot, Matt turning to face you and dropping Nick’s phone on the couch. He grabbed your shoulders and shook you once lightly.

“What did they say? Baby, breathe. What did they say?!” Matt asked, his grip on your shoulders tight as you fought off the panic.

“He’s in the house. He’s in the house.” You whispered, your eyes meeting Matt’s. Nick moved from his spot and stopped right next to Matt, his eyes wide as he scanned your face.

“Y/n, who is in the house?” He asked, his voice quiet in shock. You shook your head, nausea overtaking you as you pushed past Matt and sprinted to the kitchen. You couldn’t make it to the trash, turning and vomiting into the sink, your breaths heaving as you felt a warm hand rest on your back.

It took everything in you not to crumple to the floor as you looked up and shook your head.

“H-He told me he’s the one that killed Michael…and C-Chris.” You whispered the last word, your throat burning and your stomach lurching. Matt’s eyes widened and he shook his head.

“How long have you been getting these phone calls?” He asked, his voice shaky as Nick handed you a bottle of water.

“It’s only been the last couple of hours, I thought it was some sort of sick prank until—”

A shatter from upstairs had your entire body tensing, your breath catching in your throat. Nick’s head whipped to the stairs as Matt reached for a knife and turned away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, grabbing his arm tightly and making him face you. Nick had his phone dialed and already pressed to his ear, speaking quickly to the 9-1-1 operator.

“I’m fucking going up there.” He said, pulling his arm from your grip and continuing his way towards the stairs.

“Matt, are you stupid?” Nick asked, stepping in front of the staircase as he hung up the phone. “The police are being dispatched, don’t do anything rash.” Matt shoved past Nick and ascended the stairs, his knuckles white on the handle of the knife. Nick groaned and faced you fully. “What are we gonna do?” He asked.

“We can’t just let him go up there by himself.” You whispered, walking past Nick and slowly stepping up the stairs.

“Jesus, you guys are gonna get us killed.” Nick grumbled from behind you. You heard a shuffle in the kitchen and turned, seeing him follow you up with a knife in his hand. “What? One of us had to grab something.” He whispered. You faced forward again, listening for any bump or creak that could indicate where Matt or the man that was in your house were.

It was silent as you walked through the upstairs. Each door you passed was closed, the only sound upstairs being the sound of Nick’s and your footsteps, and the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears.

“Matt?” You called out, the back of Nick’s hand hitting your shoulder. You looked at him, bewilderment etched into your face.

“Have you never seen a scary movie? Calling out in a dark house is the number one way to fucking die.” He said through his teeth. You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth to fire back.

“Get off of me!”

You jumped, your head whipping down the hallway to see a door slam. “Matt!” You shouted, running without thinking towards the door and shoving it open. The moment you stepped into the center of the room, you knew something was wrong. The door clicked behind you, and you froze in place.

“Look what we have here.”

You turned, your eyes meeting Matt’s. His entire demeanor changed, the heartbroken boy you’d seen before was gone. In his place, stood what you could only describe as a monster. His eyes were dark, his smirk sinister, and his shoulders were square.

“Matty?” You asked, Nick coming from behind him with an almost identical smirk.

The both of them chuckled and looked between each other. Nick stepped forward, causing you to take a quick step back.

“Oh, Honey. Matty’s been gone for a while.” His hooded eyes stared you down as you fully processed what was truly happening. The both of them had tricked you.

You took in a shaky breath past the knot in your throat as you took another step back.

“You?” You exhaled, your eyes switching between them as their smirks grew impossibly wider. Matt rolled his eyes and looked over to Nick.

“Us?” He mocked, meeting your eyes and taking a step closer to you. “Yes, Baby. Us. Is that so surprising?” He teased, your eyes brimming with hot, salty tears. The cool air in the room had them burning, and your throat felt like it was on fire.

“You two were behind the murders all along?” You asked, your voice barely reaching a whisper as they moved closer to you almost strategically, boxing you in with each step they took.

Nick chuckled and nodded his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he cocked his head to the side. “She’s catching up, Matt. Yes, every single one.” He said, his voice thick with venom.

“But why?” You whimpered, your back hitting the wall. You were cornered, you couldn’t get past them no matter how hard you tried. Nick and Matt’s eyes were wicked as they watched you, Matt’s smirk growing as he glanced over at Nick.

“Hear that, Nick? She wants a motive.” He said, his eyes meeting yours again. “It isn’t enough that we just felt like it?”

“You killed Michael in cold blood, just because you felt like it?” You spat. Nick quirked an eyebrow and lightly ran the tip of his finger over the blade of the knife he was holding.

“See, now you’re getting it. Not everyone needs a motive, some people are just sick and twisted.” He pouted at the end of his sentence, anger flushing through you and coating your skin in heat.

“And Chris?” You asked. Matt chuckled and shook his head.

“You really can’t be that dense, Baby.” He said.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You said through gritted teeth.

“It was only a distraction. We were getting sloppy, and what’s better to get the cops off of our case than getting rid of one of us?” Nick interrupted. You shook your head.

“Murder isn’t a distraction, you sick fucks.” You spat, looking around the room for any escape.

Matt chuckled, and flipped the blade in his hand. “Oh, Baby. You really aren’t understanding, are you?”

Before you could spit in his face, the door behind them was pushed open, your eyes shifting to the shadowed figure walking into the room. Your heart pounded in your chest as realization slowly set in, a broken cry leaving your lips as you shook your head.

“No.” You whispered.

The white mask on his face would have been comical if every hair on your body wasn’t standing on end. You watched each movement closely, your knees buckling as you slid to the floor. The wood was ice cold as the man crouched down in front of you. He pulled the mask from his face, your choked sob being caught in your throat as you shook your head and looked down at the floor.

His warm finger rested on your chin and he lifted it up until your eyes met his, a broken whimper leaving your lips as you met the familiar blue eyes you’d looked into a million times before.

“What’s the matter, Sweetheart?” Chris said, his voice gravelly and rough as it left his smirking lips. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

tags: @lvrsparadise , @ssturniolo , @floofparker , @cat-loves-music , @geniejunn , @its-jennarose , @dwntwn-strnlo , @20nugs , @hiraethlimerence , @lavieenvalentina , @strniolo , @toyourloves , @jellybeanbby , @thetriplets3 , @mxriverse , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @tylerscreat0r , @angelcake-222 , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @lovelysturniolo

[hugshughes]

my tears ricochet R. McGroarty

Rutger McGroarty x fem!reader

synopsis - Based on “my tears ricochet” by Tay obvs. Reader is on the umich soccer team and when they lose the NCAA championship game, and Rutger is there, reader is confused and sad in a way that he would come to this game after their terrible breakup.

wc - 3.0k!

contains - reader is on the umich soccer team! lightly edited! angst!!!!!!!! then a sprinkle of fluff. reader has a panic attack and has trouble breathing, crying, descriptions of a terrible breakup, kissing, happy ending, lmk!

an - this was probably the hardest one so far, other than the last great american dynasty, which i promise is coming soon! ALSO. 200 FOLLOWERS????? THANK U GUYS! I swear I’m trying to speed up the process of writing these but it’s harder than I thought. I've been getting more requests than usual lately! You guys are all so cute btw. I've gotten multiple about Behind My Back with Nolan part 2 and it's on the way! I'm so slow at writing smut. Anyways hope you enjoyyyy!

-

we gather here, we line up, weepin’ in a sunlit room. and if i’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too.

The final whistle blew, the game was over. You crouched to the ground, palm flat on the field as you wept. You could barely breathe as the UNC team flooded the field, screaming in victory, group-hugging 10 feet from you. 4-3 in overtime. You dropped to sit on the ground, arms loosely wrapped around your knees as you stared at the crowd.

The sea of Carolina blue jumping up and down, smiling, shouting. The motionless pit of maize and navy, crying, grief, disappointment. In you. They’re all disappointed in you, that’s what you tell yourself.

Your best friend sits next to you, enveloping you in a hug, you hear her whimpers, you feel her tears.

“I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head at you, hugging you tighter than ever before pulling away, holding your face, wiping your cheeks.

“No, don’t say that. This isn’t your fault. Okay? It isn’t. You scored 2 of our goals tonight, and you just did so good okay? This isn’t your fault.”

You looked at the ground, trying to catch your breath. You’re only a sophomore, you’ll have more championships to win. She didn’t though, she was a senior.

“This was just your last game, and I just- I let you down and coach and-”

“Honey, it’s okay. I’ll be okay. You cannot blame this game just on you.”

You hesitantly nod, letting her help you to your feet. The rest of your team is hugging, some crying, some seething, some trying to smile.

You run to your coach, she opens her arms wide to hug you. She’s trying to smile, trying to tell you that it’s okay as you heave out the word sorry over and over, sobbing as you try to catch your breath, to no avail.

Your chest heaves as you try to breathe, but nothing is going in or out, you’re about to have a panic attack. You grip your jersey where your heart is, the navy material soiled from tears and sweat. Your coach lets out a curse as she realizes what’s going on, your best friend sees you, running over, holding your arms, trying to calm you down.

You can’t, you were warm before, but now it’s like you’re suffocating.

“I- I can’t! Fuck, I-”

The worse you cry the less you can breathe, but the less you’re breathing the more you’re crying.

Your trainer runs over, hand on your back as she urges you off to the sidelines. You know there are dozens of cameras on you, making everything ten times worse.

It’s time for you guys to shake hands but instead, you are urged off the field, down through the tunnel, and to the locker rooms. They sit you down in your designated stall, offering water, fanning you with random papers, holding your hands, everything as you start to breathe again. When you’re finally steadily breathing again, you feel embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry! Shit- I just-”

They just shush you, hugging you tight. You, as the star player of Michigan Women’s Soccer are informed you’re doing press with your best friend, the captain, now. You almost cry again, you know someone is bound to ask about your leaving the field early.

But here you are, sitting next to your best friend, holding hands under the table for some form of stability as you look at the reporters and flashing cameras in front of you, fans behind them.

Your best friend answers the majority of the first chunk of questions, you only chiming in a few times. Your name is called by a reporter, a question just for you.

“Would you like to comment on what happened with your early departure after the game?”

You tense, your best friend’s hold on your hand tightens, comforting you as much as possible.

“Oh um, yeah. So uh, I was having some trouble breathing and stuff and I needed to go back to the locker room. I apologize if I came across as rude to any of the UNC girls, I still definitely want to congratulate them.”

The reporter nods, and you get sad smiles from almost everyone you can see. You get another question about your performance.

“I think I definitely could’ve played better, I’m disappointed in my performance tonight, I’ve apologized to teammates and coaches. I did as well as I could in the moment, Carolina is a really talented group of girls. I-”

You see him, Rutger fucking McGroaty, standing at the back of the group, Ethan, Mark, Dylan, and a few other hockey players with him. Your voice catches, and your mind is blank.

even on my worst day, did i deserve, babe, all the hell you gave me? ‘cause i loved you, i swear i loved you. ‘til my dying day.

The eye contact is full of pain, you feel your heart stutter. Your breathing that had finally started evening out is suddenly picking back up, but also somehow slowing down? It just, hurts. Why was he here? Why would he do that to you?

What was he trying to do? Was he trying to see you? Was he just trying to watch the game?

You looked to your coach, the attention of the reporters on your best friend, with pleading eyes. She nods for you to leave, and you silently thank her, slipping out of the seat and discreetly exiting the room, having to walk right by the guys, and some fans along the way. You wave at a little girl dressed head to toe in maize and blue, your jersey adorning her little body.

You crouched down next to her, letting her grab your hand.

“Hi sweetheart, how are you doing?”

She smiles brightly, making your heart swell. She has your number drawn out on her cheek, and a Michigan temporary tattoo on the other.

“I’m good! It was fun watching you play, even if you couldn’t win. I saw you crying, are you okay? You still did really really awesome, even my brother thinks so!”

She gestures to her slightly older brother, a boy who looked about 8.

“Oh yeah, I’ll be okay. Well sweetheart, if you’d like it, I would love to sign your jersey.”

Her face lights up, she squeals and hugs you, which you accept. She turns around and you sign right next to your number on her maize jersey. She thanks you and squeezes your hand while taking a picture with you. You’re finishing up with them when her brother almost shouts.

“Are those the Mich hockey guys?”

You freeze, eyes darting from the ground to the little boy and then up to Rutger's shocked face. Rutger quickly puts his fan persona on, greeting the kids.

'cause i loved you, i swear i loved you. 'til my dying day.

You realize you're position, frozen and staring at Rutger in front of all these people, and you quickly turn to go. You get about ten feet when you hear someone quietly shout your name, then twice. Someone, being Rutger. You didn't wanna talk to him. You really did want to talk to him, you just knew you couldn't.

You are in the tunnel at this point, striding a few more feet to make sure no one can see you before stopping when he says your name once again. When you turn around he stares at you silently, his eyes filled with hurt. You wish you could run into his arms, but you can't, you can't.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace, and you're the hero flying around, saving face. and if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake?

"What are you doing here Rut?"

You could feel the tears lining your eyes, pushing to break past your waterline. He has the same tears, which hurt you even more.

"I'm sorry."

That you lost? That he came here? That he called for you? That he broke your heart?

"For what, Rutger?"

The tears were close to spilling for both of you. He lets out a shaky exhale, wiping his nose and sniffling.

"I- Um, everything? I just, I'm sorry."

cursing my name, wishing i stayed. look at how my tears ricochet.

You didn't know what to do. Part of you was about to throw yourself into his arms while another part was about to sprint as far away from him as you could.

He stood there, quickly wiping a tear that fell. In this moment, losing the game was the farthest thing from your mind. Everything in your mind was just completely overwhelmed with him. At one point he was everything to you, you knew in part of you he still was.

we gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean. some to throw, some to make a diamond ring.

When you and Rutger had broken up, it had been terrible for both of you. Rutger wasn't allowed to be alone afterward for two weeks, not that you knew that, his friends wanted to tell you and try to get you back to him but he wouldn't let them. He was too embarrassed by the idea. His friends begging for you for him because he couldn't handle a breakup? Please. What Rutger doesn't know is that you would've run straight back to him if you'd known. He was your lifeline.

Your relationship was like a dream, you'd started dating in July of 2022 and broke up the next May. You guys were inseparable, in a cute way. You guys were always there for each other, no matter what. But out of nowhere, in April, Rutger started freaking out about everything happening in his life. The team had just lost the frozen four, and he was just hurt from that and he was not himself. Even weeks after, when the other boys had seemingly gotten over it, he couldn't seem to shake the feeling in his chest.

The feeling started affecting other parts of his life, too. Specifically, your relationship. He'd become way cut off from you, and a lot more mean. It went on for three weeks before you broke up with him. You just couldn't keep trying when you were getting nothing back, even though it hurt you so badly to do it.

you know i didn't want to have to haunt you. but what a ghostly scene. you wear the same jewels that i gave you, as you bury me.

You rub your eyes before looking up from the ground to him, and then you see it. The ring he once gave you on a chain around his neck. He'd kept it when you gave it back to him.

You remember every detail about the night he gave you that ring. Where he'd taken you, how he held you in the cold of February nights in Ann Arbor. You remember his confession of love to you. How he was worried you'd think he was proposing, how he shakily opened the ring box when you got back to his room, and how he said he wanted to give it to you in your scenic snowy walk through a local park but had gotten too nervous. You remember how you kissed him, and how he brought tears to your eyes.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace. 'cause when i'd fight, you used to tell me i was brave. and if i'm dead to you why are you at the wake? cursing my name, wishing i stayed. look at how my tears ricochet.

Him being here, crying, apologizing, you losing the game, everything was just so much, but when you looked into his eyes he was still your everything. Your boy, the one that made you fall in love with every part of him, every crack and crevice, every flaw. He was still yours, no matter if you were together or apart. And you were his too, you knew that, you both did.

You can't imagine what your friends would think if you'd told them how close you were to kissing Rutger right now. They would never believe you, not after the months you spent trying oh so hard to convince yourself you were better off without him, no matter how false that statement was.

You knew you would need him, always did. He didn't know that though, when he would stalk your social media all summer, seeing you post in your little white linen dresses, having fun at the beach with your friends, he convinced himself he'd never get another chance with you. And you knew that if he tried hard enough, he could completely win you back, 100 times over.

and i can go anywhere i want, anywhere i want, just not home. and you can aim for my heart, go for blood, but you would still miss me in your bones.

He was your safe haven, whenever you were with him everything was just good, you didn't have to worry about anything with him, he wouldn't let you. He was your person.

You just stared at him, thoughts running a thousand miles per minute. You wanted him, you needed him. You knew it, too. He was always gonna be the only man that ever came to mind when you heard a love song by Taylor Swift, the only man you thought of when you saw a husband and wife with a little baby on your for you page, the only one.

i didn't have it in myself to go with grace.

He sniffled again, and you practically lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head into the crook of his neck. You started to cry again as his arms went around your hips, holding you so tightly. He was so warm, he smelled so good, he was definitely home for you if you had one. You felt his tears fall onto the base of your neck. He was mumbling i love yous and i'm sorrys like prayers. You just said the three words back, telling him it was okay because you knew it would be. As long as you had him.

and so the battleships will sink beneath the waves. you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same. cursing my name, wishing i stayed.

You pulled away from him, just a little, his tight hold on you barely let up, he couldn't let you go. You cupped his cheeks with your hands, looking into his now bloodshot, but otherwise beautiful blue eyes. You giggled, this was so crazy, you couldn't even believe it. Your amusement at the situation must've made Rutger feel embarrassed because he shook his head from your hold and buried his head into your neck. You could see his rose tinted ears. You ran your hands through his hair.

You had not the slightest idea what this meant for you two, but it definitely felt right, like you were whole again. You knew that he would come back to your life, you always felt it. And you knew you guys were gonna have to have a serious long talk about everything, but right now it just felt so good to take solace in him, acting like you were never broken up.

you turned into your worst fears. and you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain. crossing out the good years.

If you knew one thing, it was that Rutger McGroaty was your boy, and you were his girl. No matter how much time kept you apart you'd always find each other again. You loved him, too much to lose him. Especially now that you were both given another chance.

"Rut?"

He moved his head a little, adjusting his arms around your hips, grumbling out an 'mhm?'

"I'm really happy you're here."

He came out of hiding at that, smiling at you, you smiled back, partially because of how cute he looked with slightly puffy eyes and rosy cheeks.

"For real?"

You gave him a pointed look, 'duh', written all over your features. He smiled brighter, his perfect teeth on display, oh you so hoped he would never experience any teeth loss during his hockey career, even though he'd probably look fucking adorable.

"I love you. I'm not letting you down ever again, I promise. I'm gonna be perfect, okay?"

You looked at him like he had just hung the stars one by one. You shook your head mumbling something about how you loved him so much and he'd never let you down and he was already perfect in your book before pulling him into a kiss. He smiled so hard into the kiss, and so did you.

Even though you'd just lost one of the most important soccer games in your life, you'd just won someone that was more important than any soccer trophy you could ever receive.

and you're cursing my name, wishing i stayed. look at how my tears ricochet.

[theragethatisdesire]

"l’amore è cieco" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

back to the ti penso universe!!! finally!! did you guys miss it? i know i did; i am utterly obsessed with these two. i've had this sitting in my unfinished wip pile for way too long not to share.

our lovebirds have gotten the wedding all wrapped up with, so we're a solid four years past them reuniting in italy....and surprise! they're expecting!!!!! i could literally scream just writing that; the grip dad!eren has on me will never let up, i fear......anyways, this one's a little rough because i've picked it apart a thousand times and i'm just tired of editing, so you guys enjoy!!! sorry if it's not quite up to par :/

pairing: eren x reader

wc: 4k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, reader is pregnant, use of names (baby, mama, pretty, beautiful, etc), swearing, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, lactation kink, creampie, crying, tooth-rotting fluff

title means "love is blind" in italian, per tradition w this verse <3

-

Right on schedule with your new daily, depressing routine, you stand in front of the mirror running your hands over your body, examining the recent changes. On second thought, scrutinizing might be a better word.

You’re grateful your job has allowed you to work from home for your entire pregnancy, editing articles from the journalists who can actually travel while snuggled up on your couch, but the downside of it is that you’ve had far too much time to mull on all of the ways your body has stretched and warped to accommodate the growing little girl in your stomach. You thought pregnancy was supposed to be beautiful, and sometimes it is, but more often than not, you just feel like a swollen, hormonal mess.

You “popped”, as all the mommy podcasts say, about two weeks ago, and thin stretch marks have begun to appear on your stomach. Eren calls them your “tiger stripes”, having been in full-blown cringe dad mode since the day you took the test. Bizarre cravings control you at all hours of the day, evidenced by the little black crumbs you’re picking out of your sports bra, left behind by your fourteen-Oreo breakfast today. You gaze longingly at the jewelry box on your bathroom counter; you haven’t been able to wear your wedding band in weeks, the tan line already beginning to fade from your finger. Before you can get a hold of yourself, the hormones have you in their grip, and hot, frustrated tears are spilling down your cheeks.

“Babe, have you seen that tie with the red–” Eren materializes in the doorway with absolutely no warning, as he’s prone to do, but cuts himself off at the sight of you, “baby, no, again?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you say, reluctantly allowing him to take you in his arms.

“Like what?” Eren’s voice is sweet, but hesitant. He’s been living under the constant threat of getting his head bitten off for mundane reasons because of you. It makes you feel worse, makes you shove him away and glare at him accusingly.

“Like I’m always fucking crying.” You are always crying, but you wish he would at least muster up some semblance of surprise at finding you in tears yet again. You turn away from him, wiping your face in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Your flight leaves in like, three hours.”

“I’ll cancel,” Eren coos, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, picking your belly up in his hands.

It’s some hack he got off Tik Tok, supposed to take the weight off of your back for a precious moment, and as much as you don’t necessarily want to be touched right now, it actually helps. You’ve been alternating between thinking Eren’s overenthusiastic parenting research is adorable and mind-numbingly annoying, but for the moment, your back has stopped aching for the first time all morning, and you sigh, leaning into him.

“You can’t cancel,” you murmur, momentarily soothed, “‘s a big client. Where is it again? France?”

“I just got back from France, Miss Pregnancy Brain,” Eren chuckles, quieting immediately upon catching your lethal gaze in the mirror. “It’s just over in LA, and honestly, I could have Hitch go if you need me.”

“No, I can take care of myself, it’s just like…” a fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks, “fuck, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

Eren nods into your shoulder, letting you sniffle. It’s not a new trait, your outright refusal to ask for help, but it’s been exacerbated by your pregnancy, especially considering exactly how much help you actually need now.

You’ve taken custody of all of his sweatpants, not yet able to bring yourself to buy maternity clothes. You’d walked in sobbing and humiliated the other day because you’d peed yourself on the long elevator ride up to your apartment in front of the neighbors. You can’t sleep on your stomach anymore; Eren has to prop himself up just right beside you and sandwich you between himself and a wall of pillows to stop you from turning. You know it hurts him seeing you miserable, and you try to suck it up and enjoy the positives of pregnancy as much as you can, but you can’t muster up that strength every day.

“Hush,” Eren pulls your wet face to his chest, letting you stain the Number 1 Dad! t-shirt he had bought himself. “I’m not going.”

“Eren–”

“I’m not,” he says firmly, rubbing small circles into the bottom of your spine, “you need me here, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You grumble complacently, nuzzling into him. You do need him, as much as you want to think you can tough it out on your own. Eren’s bought book after book, not just for the baby, but for you. Most nights you find him reading titles like You’ve Made the Baby…Now What? or How to Survive Pregnancy: A Guide for Men with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a habit that, despite your efforts, you cannot nag him out of. It’s cute, honestly, how over-the-top he’s gotten with baby prep, especially when you’re often too exhausted to wrap your mind around reading a parenting guide.

“I feel ugly,” you admit quietly, sticky and snotty against his shirt. “I feel disgusting.”

“What?” Eren’s reaction is one of genuine confusion. He pushes you away from him so he can search your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate.

“I’m gaining an obscene amount of weight, my ankles are the size of my knees, I can’t wear a single one of my rings, what am I supposed to feel like?”

Eren frowns. “Those things are supposed to happen. I read last night–”

“I don’t care!” Your voice cracks under the weight of your frustration, and you press your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to regain control of your temper. “I don’t care that it’s supposed to happen. It still sucks.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” Eren sounds earnest, but you scoff at him anyway.

“We’re married. You’re supposed to say that.”

“I don’t have to.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “If you want your head to stay on your shoulders you do.”

Eren laughs at that, tugging you over to stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. “So, you’re serious? You genuinely don’t think you look good pregnant?”

“No,” you rub at your nose, “I don’t.”

Eren looks up at you, cupping your face gently. “I disagree.”

“Do you really?”

“I think you look better than ever.”

“That’s an insult to non-pregnant me,” you roll your eyes, moving to step away, but Eren holds you tight between his legs.

“It’s not,” he insists, “there’s just some things your pregnant body has that you didn’t necessarily have before. Some things that I like.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Cankles?”

Eren chuckles breathily, shaking his head. “I adore your cankles, but they weren't exactly the first thing that came to mind. Take these, for one thing.”

Eren presses his nose into your sports bra, hands moving up underneath to palm at your swollen tits. You let out a breathy laugh as he explores, already feeling a low heat beginning to simmer in your core. That’s one perk of entering your second trimester; your hormones might turn on a dime, but your sex drive has skyrocketed.

Eren shoves your bra up to free your tits, groaning appreciatively as he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You watch as he feels his way around with his mouth, humming contentedly under your breath, when suddenly, his eyes fly open and he shoots away from you.

“What?”

Eren shushes you, bringing a hand to the breast that had been in his mouth and squeezing lightly. White liquid beads on your nipple, and you cover your face in shame.

“When did that start?”

“A few days ago,” you admit, trying to push his hands off of you, cheeks burning. Eren swats you away, leaning back into your nipple, sucking harder. You can feel a small stream of milk leaving you, relieving some of the pressure in your tits; a moan rumbles deep in Eren’s chest, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Eren releases your nipple with a loud pop and looks up at you panting, eyes blown wide.

“Is it weird that that’s kinda hot?”

“Probably.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” you hum, threading your hands through his hair and urging him back to your chest, “feels good.”

That’s all Eren needs to hear, diving back into your chest with renewed vigor. As he continues, you realize it doesn’t just feel good, it actually feels incredible. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, but with the pregnancy, sensation has increased tenfold; you can feel your panties getting wetter as the weight of your full breast decreases. When Eren’s gotten all he can from your left nipple, he moves to your right, replacing his mouth on the now-abandoned nipple with his hand to twist gently at the wet skin.

The combined sensation makes your knees buckle; Eren saves you smoothly by wrapping an arm around your lower back, yanking you to him to straddle his leg. It’s the perfect angle for you to roll your hips against his thigh slowly, feeling the much-needed friction of his sweatpants against your cunt.

“Eren…” you breathe out, voice nothing more than a wisp of air.

“I know baby,” Eren speaks directly into your flesh, not willing to back away for even a moment, “feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Feels so good,” you whimper, clutching him to you with fistfuls of his hair.

“Told you this new body’s not so bad, hm?” Eren closes his teeth down on your nipple lightly; you almost keel over from the shockwave it sends through you.

You nod, rubbing yourself against his thigh faster. It’s awkward and cumbersome with your belly in the way, but it’s enough for now, enough to light your nerves on fire in that way that only Eren’s ever been able to.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Eren mutters, grabbing onto your hips to help you get your rhythm right, “you’re so perfect, and you don’t even see it.”

Your fingers dig into his arms as you moan. “But my stomach–”

“But nothing,” Eren kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “love your stomach, love your tits, love all of it. You think it doesn’t make me so fucking hard, watching you walk around with that big belly and knowing what it came from? I did that. We did that, didn’t we baby?”

“Mhm,” you bite into his shoulder, the friction on your clit through your sweatpants is getting to your head, making you dizzy. “Eren, Eren–”

“Sh sh sh,” Eren shushes you, moving so that he can look you in the eyes, “what do you need? Tell me.”

“I don’t– I don’t know, I just…” you can’t find the words, so in need of him that you can’t even decide what sounds best. His mouth? His fingers? All of it?

“Okay, okay,” Eren says quietly, standing you both up only to lay you against the pillows, “I’ve gotcha.”

He nudges his sweatpants down your legs, bringing your panties with them, spreads your legs so he can see the most intimate part of you. Eren brings his hand to your clit, rubbing tentatively, but you’re so desperate for him that it’s enough to make your back arch, a long, throaty moan ripping out of you. He lays beside you, gently playing with your clit and watching in awe at the reaction you give him, already a blubbering mess after only a few minutes.

“So sensitive, aren’t you mama?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you at the name, “s-so sensitive. Need to cum, I need, n-need–”

“I’ll make you cum,” Eren promises, sinking a finger into you, “I’ll make you cum, baby.”

“Fuck, Eren, it’s– I can’t–”

“Feel good?”

“So fucking good,” you’re basically sobbing at this point, fingers clenched into the muscles of his bicep, clinging to him and humping his hand. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sex over the first trimester (“What if I hit the baby’s head?” Eren had asked nervously whenever you approached him) or the rawness of the sensation against your over-sensitive body, but you’ve never been so close to your orgasm so quickly.

You don’t hold out long; Eren’s skilled with even just one finger, and before long, you’re crying out his name, gushing all over his hand. Eren presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss despite having utterly destroyed you less than thirty seconds ago.

“Ready for me?”

“Sit,” you pant, pointing to the massive stack of pillows against your headboard. Eren raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does as he’s told, only pausing to pull his clothes off. The loss of the stupid dad t-shirt is a relief as much as feeling his bare chest under your hands. Due to your hormones, you’ve thrown Eren out of the house several times, and you’ve demanded to be alone enough to where his only solution is to go to the gym downstairs and work out until you’ve calmed down. It shows: his chest has grown broader and stronger, and the veins on his arms are nearly popping through the skin. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” Eren offers a shit-eating grin, flexing his bicep ever so subtly. “You should see yourself.”

“You seriously think I look good like this?” You’re straddling his hips now, rubbing your clit on his bare cock. It’s a lewd sight, his cock drooling on his abs, glistening with your cum; your cunt clenches around nothing, more than ready to be filled.

“Mhm, you look so fucking good like that,” Eren grunts, hands finding your hips again and lifting you up to sink you down on his cock, both of you letting out loud, satisfied groans, “but you look much better like this.”

You grind your hips against his, not possessing the energy to bounce your now-heavier body, but it makes you see stars. Eren rarely lets you ride him, much preferring to bend you over or pin you to the bed himself, but with your bump, you now have an excuse to hop on top of him whenever you like. It’s been close to a decade of fucking him, but the full stretch of him never fails to shock you, the way he pushes into you until you’re positive he’s in your stomach. With Eren sitting up, his cock stays firmly nestled against your g-spot, pushing little bits of squirt out of you with each movement of your hips.

“Eren–” you whimper, holding your breasts as you rock into him.

“Shit- you’re so tight like this,” Eren says through his clenched jaw, throwing his head back against the headboard, “why don’t you ride me more often?”

“You don’t let me,” you say with a watery giggle.

“Stupid,” Eren gasps, “‘m so fucking stupid.”

You’re too fucked out to voice your agreement, opting for sliding a hand down your body to flick at your clit. You can’t quite reach it around your bump, though, a discontented noise leaving your lips. Eren opens his eyes, takes notice of the way you’re hunching your back, and swats your hand away.

“I got it, I got it,” he pants, tucking his hand underneath your swollen belly to rub your clit just the way he knows you like it.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you choke out, throwing your head back.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss, “‘s perfect.”

“Take what you need, mama,” Eren’s watching you intently, a glimmer of admiration in his eye, “take what you need.”

You’re moaning pitifully, loud and wanton as Eren’s cock moves inside of you. Your cunt tightens around him desperately as the bubble building in your stomach threatens to explode.

“Think you get wetter like this, all swollen with my baby,” Eren muses, leaning forward to latch his mouth around one of your nipples where more milk has already started to pool. His words have a visceral reaction on you; you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you spiral towards your release. 

“I think–I think I’m gonna– oh fuck, don’t stop,” you croon, rocking your hips as fast as you can manage. Eren mumbles around your nipple, something about how beautiful you look, and you come undone around him, grinding your hips hard against his and cradling him to your chest. He might have a point- there’s damn near a puddle of your arousal at the base of where you’re connected, slicking up the skin on his hips and the inside of your thighs.

“Better?” Eren pulls you in for a kiss; you can feel him grinning through it.

“Maybe a little,” you admit, laughing light and watery against his mouth.

“Mmm,” Eren hums, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you only to drop you down again and turn your laughter to a quiet whimper, “not good enough. Need you to be much better.”

“Fuck me, then,” you nip at his bottom lip, earn yourself a deep groan.

“Can you— can you hold yourself up like this?” Eren scooches both of you down, albeit, a little awkwardly, so that he can lay flat on the bed. He moves you up until you’ve only got him halfway inside of you, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I–I think so.”

“And you’re sure I’m not going to hurt–”

“Jesus Christ– no Eren, it’s fine, just– fuck,” he cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips up into yours, grinning menacingly when your eyes roll back.

“Like that?”

“Just like that,” you moan, annoyance wiped from you with one clean stroke. Eren takes that for the green light that it is and starts pistoning his hips up into you, swearing under his breath. Even though he’d instructed you to hold yourself up, he makes good use of his new muscles, suspending you at the perfect height to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” Eren growls, “all swollen with my fuckin’ baby. Gonna keep you like this, give you as many as you want.”

“Eren–” you choke out, suffocating on the way he’s fucking you, his words, him. For the first time in months, you feel amazing, holding your chest and groaning long and loud as Eren thrusts up into you.

“Baby, I’m- fuck, not gonna–” Eren cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, throwing his head back.

“Cum in me,” you pant, nodding urgently at him, “want it so bad.”

“Oh fuck,” Eren groans, hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers are digging into your hips near to the point of pain, and that little frown he makes when he’s about to cum is crumpling his face. You do want it, badly.

“Please Eren, I need it,” you gasp, legs trembling on either side of his hips.

“Fucking love you, love you so much,” Eren slurs, hips stuttering. With a long, throaty moan, he slams you down one final time, cumming deep inside of you. You grind against him as he does, moaning along with him at the familiar warmth in your belly. Exhausted, you momentarily forget about your bump and try to collapse facefirst on him- that’s enough to snap Eren out of his post-orgasm haze.

“Whoa, whoa,” Eren shoves you back upright, lifting you under your shoulders and laying you on your back, “careful.”

You wince. “Shit, sorry. Sometimes I forget. It’s still sort of new.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, eyes locked lovingly on your baby bump, “love it, though.”

“Really?”

Eren cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “If that didn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”

You giggle at that; he’s always been good at this, cheering you up and diffusing your worries like it’s second nature. After ten years, it probably is at this point.

“I don’t mean to be so down on myself, really,” you sigh, tracing a finger over where his hand’s splayed on your stomach, “it’s just…so much harder than I thought it would be.”

Eren nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable. But you’re so good at it.”

“I haven’t even– what?” The insecurities that you’ve been successfully masking under good natured teasing and occasional annoyance come slipping from between your lips. You’ve thought it for weeks; how Eren’s so into all the baby stuff, so enthusiastic about learning everything he can, while all you’ve managed is trying not to gag when he cooks eggs in the morning and picking out some onesies. “What about all of your books and your podcasts and crap? You’re the one doing everything.”

“That’s all I can do,” Eren scoffs, “you’re doing all the hard stuff, like carrying the baby around and puking every morning and crying all the time–”

“Hey!”

“I’m serious,” Eren shushes you, “you’re putting in all the legwork. I mean, you’re literally growing our baby. You’re a fucking rockstar mom already. If anyone’s not doing enough here, it’s me.”

That’s one thing about Eren that will never get easier; his deep, unwavering admiration for you, no matter what you’re doing. Sure, it’s endearing when Eren spins you around in his arms for something as simple as finally getting that croissant recipe to come out well, but when he’s praising you for something that’s actually difficult? It’s sweet enough to give you a cavity, warm your heart, and turn your cheeks pink all at once, even after all this time.

“Well, if you’d like to take a shift carrying her around, be my guest. She’s a chunky little thing already,” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into Eren’s ribs to mask the flush rising to your face.

“I’d do it for you if I could,” Eren sighs in faux-thoughtfulness, “but I wouldn’t look half as hot.”

You giggle furiously when he lands a slap to your ass, swatting at his chest. “God, it still doesn’t feel real, does it? A little girl that’s half you, half me.”

“It does and it doesn’t,” Eren shrugs, bringing a hand back to your stomach, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about it since Italy.”

You gape at him. “That long?”

“You know I’m always ahead of you on this stuff,” Eren teases, squeezing your cheeks together, “knew I wanted you first, knew I wanted you back first, knew we should get married…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his bragging, “it’s just, like…are we ready? To do this?”

“This?” Eren cocks his head.

“The whole…‘parents’ thing.”

“Putting aside the fact that you're way too late to be having those kinds of thoughts,” Eren says, rubbing your lower back, “of course we’re ready. There’s no perfect parents, but I believe in us– believe in you. Gonna be the best mama any baby’s ever had, I know you will.”

“I don’t even…oh, Eren.” You’re tearing up again–damn hormones. Eren wipes at your tears, planting a big kiss on your forehead.

“I mean it. You’re going to be great, already are,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you just like that for a few moments, letting you nuzzle into his chest, until his little grin grows wicked. “Although…the only thing I can say I am worried about is which one of us is going to accidentally teach her her first swear word. Should we bet on it?"

Even through your tears, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that’s going to be Jean. Especially after what you taught Clara the last time we babysat.”

Eren barks out a laugh. “Hey, hearing her call Jean ‘Daddy Jackass’ was funny, and you know it!”

“Thanks for reminding me,” you smirk, “now I know what I’m teaching our little girl first.”

“No way!”

[cookiesupplier]

Hell Ain't So Bad - Part One

pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie) 

warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut (eventually), angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, and swearing. – potential more to be added at stories progression

summary: Ellie is lost in the world, homeless and has been out of the world for so long in her mind she has no idea what to do and nowhere to go.. When the perfect opportunity falls into her lap, she doesn’t want to pass it up.. Turns out though, it might be a little bit stranger than she ever expected. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?

author’s note: This first part was originally written as Reader/first person, but re-edited as Ellie/third person as its what's I'm used do if I missed anything please, feel free to let me know. Unbetaed, readers beware..

Warning, this is a slow burn... I scream at my computer with slow burns... so how well I will handle my own slow burn I have absolutely no idea... lol but as per my notes... I can't even promise Ellie will even meet Noah for um. a. few. parts. Don't lynch me.

ALL COMMENTS ARE WELCOME. (my replies are broken I will reply via reblog to yours)

tags: Tags are open if anyone is interested.

The day Ellie sold her guitar was the beginning of the end. It had been all going down hill for a long time. Ellie knew, of course, she knew. The whole world knew it to be honest, it isn’t just her that was struggling but she had dropped out of college and had been picking up work wherever she could find it just to get by and pay rent. Ellie had even tried Only Fans, but not even taking off her clothes and videoing herself for strangers on the internet had gotten her the money she needed to keep her from the predicament that she was in now. Not being able to even pay her monthly phone bill had put a stop to uploading the videos and images to continuing getting money from Only Fans for the bill, she had tried to get around it, but trying to access the free wifi at the library had been nixed the moment the librarian saw exactly what she was doing.

Boy had Ellie been banned there so fast anyone would think steam was about to come out of the librarian’s ears.

She didn’t blame her for that, but a girl had to eat, and eventually, when she stopped uploading the little content she had managed to get to her account, the money that she had had coming in from her subscribers, had dried up very quickly, and then she had nothing to even scrounge for the slightest morsel of food. Ellie hadn’t eaten a decent meal in what felt like…

Screw what felt like. She hasn't had even a scrap of food that hasn’t been begged, stolen, or fished out of the garbage in weeks.

Months since it was anything but dollar packs of noodles. Dry unless Jake let her borrow his camp stove to cook them.. She always shared if he did. He brought the kettle camp stove, and she bought the noodles and they ate huddled under the overpass, pretending they weren’t homeless, down on their luck, beggars.. Bound to get chased away, or worse, the next time a cop patrol came riding by. Jake was a good egg though, he could get into a shelter so much easier than her, but he never went, always saying there was too much noise, too many people. He was a veteran with PTSD, he’d lost the lower half of one of his right leg last time he was on active duty, and she was always willing to listen to the story, even if she heard it every time they shared a pack of noodles.

It had been a few days.

The overpass.

Ellie wished she could say that actually sleeping here was a new development, but it had been where she had been calling home for some weeks now. There used to be a tent city in the park for so many like her, but then the council had decided that was an unlawful assembly and chased them out. Sadly in that chaos, Ellie had lost the, admittedly flimsy, tent covering that had kept her at the very least dry of the night. That had been a few weeks back. Now, the overpass was usually where she spent her nights.

If she was lucky.

That’s right, if she was lucky.

If she wasn’t, she would go out and look to find a park bench. The other option was possibly huddled up somewhere random in a shop stoop and praying to whatever deity out there, if there was any at all, and hoped that it didn’t rain, and she woke up before the shop owners got in and chased her away the next morning.

Not that it really mattered. She could never get properly warm anyway, despite the fact Ellie was wearing literally every layer of clothes that she hadn’t sold. She just couldn’t stay warm, and that cough she’d had for weeks now just didn’t want to go away. If she couldn’t afford a place to live, it wasn’t like she could afford the treatment the doctors said she needed. The free clinic was pointless. No, sorry, that was horrible of her to even think. No it wasn’t, It had a point, but so far the drugs they’d given her only seemed to help much for a short period of time, but at least they did help, for a little bit. Still, the cough was relentless, it always came back despite the fact she always tried to do what they told her. She tried everything she could to stay as dry, and as warm as she could. Unfortunately every time it came back, and it made sleeping extremely difficult when every night she woke up feeling like she was trying to cough up her lungs from her chest, barely able to breath. It felt like something was sitting on her chest.

Today, Ellie seemed to have dozed off mid afternoon, she didn’t remember doing it, but she must have with the way she awoke with a start this afternoon. She hadn’t even realized that she’d drifted off, damn she was so tired, it happened when her coughing got so bad that she couldn’t manage to sleep more than tiny cat naps.. Probably about time to go back to the free clinic and see if they could give her some more meds and get just a little bit of relief, even if it was only for another short time, anything was better than nothing.

Waking up coughing, she raised a gloved hand to her mouth.

It was instinct.

Who didn’t cover their mouth when they coughed?

However, the pressure in her chest, the ache, the pain in her throat, then the drops of blood that she spots on her fingers when she struggles to pull a breath in and drop her hand from her mouth as the coughing eases slightly.. And her stomach drops.

Fuck.

That isn’t good.

Definitely free clinic time.

“Hey, you okay?”

Looking up from her hand, Ellie’s fingers closing in a fist quick as she swallows looking to the frankly clean, neat, man with bright eyes, a kind smile, more than a few tattoos, blonde short hair and is squatting down to her level,

“Ye-”

Ellie’s voice was rough, her throat feeling like a cheese grater from the coughing, but clearing her throat a little bit gently she continued,

“Yea, just really tired, I’m probably just getting a cold.”

Liar. Bold faced liar. She sees the man smile a little more, glad he accepts the white lie. Least she hopes he does anyway.

“Best get you to the clinic then.. Here, have a sandwich until then, fill that belly, and when you go, maybe check this place out too, it’s right across the street, I have a buddy over there, I think he could help you. Ask for Nicholas. He’s one of the nicer ones, I promise.”

That smile was winning as he stood up and walked the way he came. Ellie saw it then, the truck he was walking towards, he came from a homeless shelter.

She didn’t recognize the name though, that was weird. Looking at the card, the writing was fuzzy, like her eyes weren’t working properly for a second, and, and then the words formed. Oh, there it went. Huh. It was an unemployment agency. That’s funny, she thought she’d been to every single one in the city, she didn’t recognize this one either. That was really strange, he wasn’t acting like he was new to the area. New people had this way about them, she'd noticed, very buddy buddy, trying to be everyone's best friend. Now this guy, yes he’d been nice, but then he’d left her with the sandwich, holding the card in her hand, slightly blood smeared from her fingers, and then gone back about his work.. Like he was an old hand at this.

Looking down at the card, Ellie sighed. Nicholas.

Well, she obviously needed to go to the clinic anyway right. Even if she had a strange feeling about it, Ellie tucked the card into her ratty jeans pocket and opened up the sandwich. She’d only eat half now and save the other half for tomorrow, for before she’d go and see if she could get in at the clinic.

Ellie had been waiting hours to get in at the clinic.

Just her luck. There were too many people and she had already this morning been waiting there for so long that she knew she would end up sleeping on the front stoop if she continued on trying to wait to see a doctor. No matter how many times she tried to get the nurses attention, there was always someone who was yelling louder than her, and not even when she had another coughing fit did that get her attention..

It was late afternoon by the time that Ellie was finally taking a time out from the chaos and a short break to get some fresh air by the door, just trying to breathe, that you spotted the friendly man from the day before.. Waving at you from the building across the road.. That was where he’d said the agency was, across the road.

He was waving her over.

Glancing back into the clinic, she’d be waiting here for hours still and she knew it, and she wasn't even sure the nurse had ever put her name on the list of patients despite already being here, for hours already. Signing in this morning had been the strangest thing, she’d set the intake form down, and yet, nothing.

Walking across the street towards the guy, he was still smiling..

“I was wondering when you’d arrive.”

So, he was that sure she’d come, strange. Swallowing, her throat hurt so much from all the coughing, but she didn’t want to complain, not if she could get a job, any job right now would be better than nothing.

“Come on in, I’m Steven by the way, let’s find Nick, he’s the guy for you, I know it.”

Ellie followed him, she felt obliged to this time, not sure why, like she was being tugged along. The building wasn’t anything strange, just an office building.

“Ah, here we go, right though here.. Nicholas Ruffilo. He'll be able to help you.”

Well, here goes nothing. What did she have to lose right?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

[lillylvjy]

Walking out the door with your bags (part 2)

A/n/// hey!! So here’s part 2 of my lovely highschool au fic here. And I’m sorry if it’s super crappy, I was rushing to get this done and out! But I hope it suffices as I write some new fics (👀) and make up for the angst! Enjoy!

Warnings// kissing, swearing, Wilbur and reader look terrible, food mentions, yelling (??), use of Wilbur’s real name please tell me if there’s anything else please.

edited: barely.

“It’s been a week Aria and he hasn’t talked to me. I think he’s done with me.”

“But that’s the thing Y/n, he’s not! Hell, look at him! He looks terrible.” Aria looked at Wilbur as you followed her gaze.

His eyes were red and swollen from what only you could guess was crying. He had bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep and he could barely keep his eyes open. His mood wasn’t matching his giddy personality. His clothes were all wrinkled and looked they were just thrown on without any attempt of looking halfway decent. He looked like a mess.

He looked like you.

“Aria, that could be from anything! Maybe he got rejected and he isn’t handling it well.” You told Aria as you looked back down at your notes for Biology.

“Y/n-“

“Y/n! You gotta talk to him! He’s become so… bleh. It’s sad.” You heard James say as he sat next to Aria across from you.

“James. I can’t. I made it awkward when I confessed to him and I ruined everything-“

“Holy fuck, you’re that oblivious too?!” You heard Ash say as he plopped down next to you.

“W-What do you mean?!” You stuttered out as you looked up at him with furrowed eyes.

“Ok. I’ll give you the run down. William Gold over there, cannot stop talking about you! And it’s gotten worse since then. And it’s making my brain hurt- no offense!” James quickly added as you looked over at the taller boy. His head was down on the table, his headphones on as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. He looked up slowly, making eye contact with you, quickly looking back down and hiding his face. You frowned at the sight and sighed.

“But- But he was talking about someone else. He doesn’t like me, so whatever you guys are thinking is wro-“

“Omg- do you hear yourself?! Y/n. Wilbur has been your best friend for, god knows how long. He tells you everything, right?” Aria asked as she looked at you and saw a flicker of realization cross your face.

“He didn’t tell me the na-“

“Hey Y/n. Can we talk?” You heard a hoarse and gravelly voice ask you. You looked up to see Wilbur standing in front of the table. You held your breath as you looked at Aria and saw her motion for you to move. James have you a reassuring nod as Ash handed you your bag. You sent a small smile to all of them and quickly got up, following Will.

He led you to the a small music room with a piano and some other percussion instruments. The same room that you said those three words to him that you’d soon regret saying.

Wilbur sat down on the bench in front of the piano, placing his hands gently down on the keys, and started to play.

You recognized the melody immediately. You always wanted him to learn it, you practically begged him to but he shut it down, saying his “piano skills from 3rd grade have weakened and he can’t play for shit anymore.”

Can’t play for shit my ass.

As he continued to play the sentimental melody that you fell in love with, you began to wonder why he was playing. When he learnt it.

As the piano started to quiet down, signaling the end of the song, you walked up behind him and slowly put the lid to the piano down while gently grabbing his hands, not to crush them.

“What do you want Wilbur.” You quickly winced at how harsh you sounded. You saw his face fall from his relaxed face, forming a frown at the mouth as he furrowed his eyebrows. Tears coated his eyes, making them glossy and shine against the light.

“Um-“ his voice cracked as he held back tears and cleared his throat. “I just wanted to say I miss you and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you in any way. I was in denial of everything. Your feelings. My feelings. And I’m so stupid. I should’ve just told you-“

“Wait-“ you quickly blink at the words he just said. “Your feelings? So you do like me? And you didn’t think to- I don’t know- tell me! Wil. I- oh my god.” You started to pace around the room as you took in everything that’s happened. He didn’t tell you. Even after you told him you loved him.

“Y/n, hey, you’re spiraling. Sit down-“ Wilbur began to reach out to you as your breathing got heavier and your mind fogged up.

“No! No. I need to leave. I- you made me think I lost you! I thought I lost my best friend when in reality you were just too much of a scaredy cat to tell me you liked me back.” You quickly open the door and storm out, Wilbur right on your heels.

“Y/n please. Listen to me, it wasn’t that simple- Can you please just stop and listen!” As you walked out of the building into the cold, rainy outdoors, Wilbur quickly ran in front of you, grabbing your shoulders to keep your stationary as you looked up at him with desperation and hopelessness.

“What do you need to tell me Wil? You’re ashamed that you like me? You’re upset that you actually might like your best friend and ruin everything? Hell, imagine how I feel! Yet, I still did it. I still told you and I’m not a mad at my choice. But the fact you thought you couldn’t tell me you liked me back, is so much more embarrassing for me than anything Wil.” You forced out as your throat quickly closed up and you covered your mouth as tears formed, face cold and wet from the pouring rain.

“No, love. Just listen to me, I can explain. When you told me you liked me, I didn’t know if you were joking or not. And I know, ‘Why would I be joking about that type of stuff’. But once you I saw your face and how heartbroken you were, I couldn’t do anything to help. You were already gone by the time I was going to say something. And when you weren’t at school at all for like, 3 days, I was so fucking worried you were hurt or something. And the time I came over to your house, you weren’t home. So I just decided to leave you alone and knowing that I hurt you didn’t make it any better. And I’m an idiot for not believing you and not telling you how I felt and I’m so sorry and if you can I would love to try this whole thing out again unless you do-“

Before he could continue his hopeless ramble, you cut him off with a cold kiss. Both of your lips freezing from the rain and weather, but not paying any mind to it, being to engrossed in each other. Cupping your face, Wilbur pushed your faces closer together, wanting to feel you as close as he can. Never letting you go. As you held his hands that were on your face, you were quickly reminded of the states your bodies were in. You pulled away, Wilbur whining as you did so, and looked up at him with a big smile.

“As much as I want to continue, we are soaking wet and cold and I also don’t feel like getting sick so-“

“Wanna skip? We can go to my house and order food. We can watch Disney movies or those shitty 90s rom coms you like and drink tea or whatever you want. You can wear my clothes! I know you like them, just as much as I like them on you.” Wilbur swiped the hair that fell in your face. His hand cupped your face as he looked down at you with so much love and warmth.

You shivered a little at the cold skin against skin contact. You laughed and nodded up at him. “Yes please, as long as you don’t start commenting on how badly the actors act or how they got a certain subject wrong. It gets quite annoying.” You poked his chest as he laughed.

“I can’t promise anything. But I can promise cuddles and kisses.” He whispered to you as he leans down closer to you, smiling ear to ear as you leaned up and pecks his lips once more before walking over to his car.

“That’s all you had to say pretty boy. Now let’s go! My clothes are sticking to me and I’m cold and hungry. Three things that make me very upset.” You waited for him to unlock his car that definitely way too small for him.

Once you both made your way into the car, knowing damn well his leather seats would be ruined by the time the water dried, Wilbur started his car and looked over at you. You were shivering as the heat started to kick on, barely doing anything in the old, run down car of his. He smiled and leant over the center console and turned your face to look at him as he leaned in and kissed your lips, slowly and gently.

Neither of you wanted the moment to end, but your stomach had other plans of its own as it started to angrily rumble at the state of its emptiness. Pulling away, Wilbur and you both bursted out laughing. Wilbur finally sat back in his seat, pulling out of the parking lot.

“Ok, what are ya’ hungry for?”

Bonus (oh- oh wow look at this-):

“Holy shit! James get over here!” Ash yelled out as he switched his gaze from his phone to the couple standing outside.

“What is goi- HOLY FUCK!” James yelled as he jumped up and down in excitement.

“You owe me 20 bucks, you know?” Ash’s comment made James stop jumping and instead stare at the long haired boy in anger.

“Why the FUCK did you have to remind me now?” James asked Ash as they both started to walk away from the door.

“Because I want my money I earned for being right, like always.” Ash smirked at James as he saved the video to his camera roll and sent it to the group chat.

“You little sh- wait did you take a video of it all?!”

“Yup.” Ash nodded as he waited for the notifications to start coming in.

“You know, you may die and I won’t help you a-“ james got cut off as he heard a ringtone go off, looking across he table to ash’s phone lighting up with the name:

‘Utter baphoon 🕺’

Ash smirked as he pressed the answer button, putting the phone on speaker.

“Yes?”

“ASH YOU FUCKING BITCH-“

Taglist: @deadphantomsociety @jadeissues @sixofshadowandbone @ezzylikesdabee @bird-shack @z0vamp @gaytoadwithapopsicle @art3m1s-adelia @mcr-pr-fob @romancingdaffodils @swevenne @maarriiii @ella-fella-bo-bella @opheliq (if you wanna be added, all ya have to do is ask lovelies!)

[666writingcafe]

RAD TV (Part Two)

Mephistopheles: Welcome to a very special edition of RAD TV. We are reporting to you live from the auditorium as voting for the bloody moon contest wraps up.

Rogmen: It's a close race for first place with Lord Diavolo, Lucifer, and MC vying for that coveted top spot. In fact, it's so close that the call can't be made until the final vote gets tallied.

Mephistopheles: Speaking of which, I believe the last person has just cast their vote.

MC: *walks up to them* Hi guys.

Rogmen: MC! What a nice surprise.

Mephistopheles: I take it you're the last vote, then?

MC: I think so. The Little D's took away the ballot boxes as soon as I put my slip in.

Rogmen: Well, we might as well take the opportunity to interview you as we wait for the final results.

Mephistopheles: If that's alright with you, that is. I know you weren't too keen the last time.

MC: I don't mind chatting for a bit. *pauses* Lucifer's glaring at you.

Mephistopheles: I'm not surprised. We've never gotten along all that well.

Rogmen: I can think of a few reasons why.

Mephistopheles: We are not here to talk about my relationship with Lucifer.

MC: Excuse me for a moment. *walks out of the frame*

Rogmen: For those watching at home, Lucifer is currently standing behind the cameraman with his arms crossed, and MC's trying to calm him down.

Mephistopheles: *mumbles* I really wish he would let me do my job.

MC: *returns* Sorry about that. He's been a bit twitchy lately. I had to tell him that I was doing this interview voluntarily.

Rogmen: He does seem rather protective of you.

Mephistopheles: Moving on from that little hiccup...MC, how have you felt about participating in this contest?

MC: Can I be honest?

Rogmen: Certainly.

MC: This whole thing has been rather exhausting, and I can't wait for it to be over. That isn't to say that I'm not grateful for all of the support I've received, because I am; I'm just ready for everyone to start acting normal again.

Rogmen: Completely understandable. The fact that you've maintained a level head says a lot about your character.

Mephistopheles: I agree. Throughout this entire process, you've stayed true to yourself, and I think that has drawn a lot of people towards you. You don't feel the need to put on airs in order to impress someone; you just come as you are.

MC: I appreciate you saying that.

Mephistopheles: It's the truth.

Little D. No 5: Mephisy, Mephisy!

Rogmen: Now, you know he hates that nickname.

Little D. No 5: I have the final results!

Mephistopheles: Thank you, Number 5. *sighs* I swear, he's worse than Asmo.

MC: *chuckles*

Rogmen: Do you want to do the honors, or shall I?

Mephistopheles: I got it. *unfolds the piece of paper, glances at the top of it, and looks directly into the camera* Excuse us for a moment.

For those watching at home, a "We'll Be Right Back" screen pops up and stays for a couple minutes. When RAD TV resumes, MC is no longer with the news anchormen.

Rogmen: We apologize for the unexpected break. We had to make sure that the results were accurate before reporting on them.

Mephistopheles: Without further ado, here are the final results of this year's bloody moon contest. In last place is none other than Solomon himself.

Rogmen: I tried telling him that he shouldn't host that banquet, but he didn't listen.

Mephistopheles: *runs through spots 19 to 11*

Rogmen: *provides commentary for each person*

Mephistopheles: At number ten is Beelzebub.

Rogmen: I'm surprised he dropped.

Mephistopheles: He had an incident at Deja Vu.

Rogmen: I see. *glances at the paper* You finished ninth.

Mephistopheles: That's higher than last time. In eighth place is Belphegor. He offered to clean up after Beel's mess at Deja Vu.

Rogmen: *glances at the paper again* Lucky seven goes to Satan.

Mephistopheles: Let me announce the results.

Rogmen: Sorry.

Mephistopheles: At number six is Simeon.

Rogmen: That's really good for an angel. Then again, he doesn't really act like his fellow brethren, does he?

Mephistopheles: That is a conversation for another day. In fifth place is Leviathan, and Barbatos is number four.

Rogmen: Speaking of which, he's headed this way.

Barbatos: *appears in frame briefly to whisper in Mephistopheles' ear*

Mephistopheles: It appears as though they've finished setting up.

Rogmen: Excellent.

Mephistopheles: For those wondering what is going on, there is currently a three-way tie for first place. As per the rules, a tiebreaker vote must be conducted to determine the final winner. We will cut away to the scene of that vote...now.

The location on screen has changed from the auditorium to a conference room, where MC, Lucifer, and Lord Diavolo are seated with a piece of paper and a pen placed in front of each of them.

Barbatos: *off-screen* You may now write the name of the person you think deserves to win this year's bloody moon contest amongst the three of you. Whoever gets two votes automatically gets the title of the most honored and respected individual at this school.

MC: *scribbles quickly and hands their paper to someone off camera*

Lucifer: *hands his vote in second*

Diavolo: *contemplates for a bit before writing down a name, making him the last person*

The camera pans over to Barbatos, who's seated across from the three finalists.

Barbatos: *accepts the pieces of paper from the person that collected them* Thank you. We have one vote for Lucifer, one for Diavolo, and... *trails off as he looks at the last slip of paper and sighs* I can't trust the three of you, can I?

The camera moves down to reveal the three slips of paper, each with a different name on them. Those familiar with their handwriting can tell right away who voted for who.

Barbatos: In the event of a failed tiebreaker vote, the rules dictate that each person must participate in a talent-based performance. For the three of you, I think a good old-fashioned dance battle is in order.

[karatekels]

TIGmas Day #7 – Yule-Tied

Happy New Year everybody! Hope you had a restful and/or exciting (your preference :P) break that’s got you feeling happy and ready to go in 2024.

Today’s TIGmas story gets me well on my way to one of my New Year’s Resolutions: writing more TIG characters! @mrgriffiths has requested a Terry McCain fic, and I’m looking forward to seeing how I do. Thanks for all the pretty pictures and edits of TIG that you do, @mrgriffiths, and I hope you enjoy!

(also special thanks to @argum3ntativ3dr3amgirl for helping me come up with the title after I had been struggling with it for an eternity – I love a good pun!)

Summary: You manage to get Terry to swear off work for a whole week to come with you to visit your family in New York City for the holidays. He has (unsurprisingly) charmed his way into everyone’s good books, so you decide to reward him with an early Christmas present when you get back to your hotel room the night before Christmas Eve…

TW: bondage, teasing, dirty talk, oral sex, graphic sex

---

Yule-Tied

---

Terry’s POV:

His fingers glide across the keys with practiced ease, and he smiles at the loud cacophony of singers – in varying stages of drunkenness – he’s heard a lot worse at Deja Vu before. He’s partially surprised that he still remembers the Christmas carols; he doesn’t think he’s played them since grade school. The instrument was there to greet him the first time you led him into your parents’ house a few days ago – his eyes seeming to seek it out like an old friend – and immediately gave him a sense of comfort; a sense of being home.

The two of you were spending the week leading up to Christmas in New York City so that you could introduce Terry to your family for the first time; you’d been together for almost a year at this point, and had decided you were serious enough to take this next step. You had greatly understated your family’s wealth, the three level brownstone in Nassau County, and Terry spent the first few days feeling incredibly out of place, sticking out like a tall, blue-collar sore thumb. It had made him a bit embarrassed about his own tiny Chicago apartment over the jazz club. He can’t provide you with a life like you were used to on his meagre salary…

But gradually, your family had welcomed him into the fold, once your father had gotten the stern, not-quite-threatening “don’t hurt my daughter” talk out of the way that first night. Ever since, his self-professed charms had been at work – he wasn’t afraid to lay it on a little thick to please the people who would hopefully one day be his future in-laws, his new family.

And it had worked.

Your mother dotes on him constantly, offering him seconds and thirds, he’d bonded with your father over football and whiskey, and he’d overheard your female relatives – from great-aunts to young nieces – all giggling as they gossiped about his dimples. Even your little nephew was crazy about him, thinking that he was nothing short of a superhero because of his job as a police officer.

His charms had also been at work on you, it would seem. He’d caught you staring at him more than once over the past few days, reading to the younger children or helping his mother in the kitchen – he’s been on his very best behaviour, after all. In some ways it was a good thing that the two of you were staying in a hotel (your parents too traditional to allow you to share a bed under their roof before you were married), as you were desperate to get your hands on him every night this week.

He doesn’t have much family of his own these days, but if being on good terms with yours earns him treatment like this then he’s all for it.

He catches you doing it again now, halfway through leading your family through an ironically raucous rendition of ‘Silent Night’. Flushed cheeks, bright eyes and part of your lower lip in your mouth as you try to bite back a smile over the rim of your rum and eggnog… he loves the way that you look when you want him.

The moment the song is over, he hears you let out an exaggerated yawn and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from cracking a smile. You were so predictable and a terrible actress, but he finds it endearing. You were his source of comfort.

“Well, I think we’d better head out for the night; it’ll take awhile to get back into the city,” you announce, clearly trying not to sound too excited at the prospect. Your family moans in protest all around you, but you’ve already given everyone the slip, presumably to go and call for a cab.

“Oh, but can’t we just keep you both?” your mom asks, wrapping her arms around him from behind and laying a sloppy kiss on his cheek that has him blushing in embarrassment.

“I promise I’ll have her back here bright and early tomorrow, Mrs. L/N,” he reassures the woman, gently freeing himself from her grip as he rises from the piano bench.

He says his goodbyes, and you join him partway through once the taxi is on its way, and before long the two of you have bundled up and made it out of the house and into the snowy night. You’re quiet and maintaining a few feet of distance between the two of you. He presumes it’s in case anyone from your family is peeping through the curtains, but even after you get in the cab you’re keeping your hands to yourself, staring pensively out the window. What was going on with you?

He resolves to investigate further once he gets you into your hotel room.

Little does he know that you’ll be doing an investigation of your own.

Reader’s POV:

You can tell that Terry is getting suspicious of you, but you’re trying to keep him from dragging the truth out of you. But you need to get him out of the room for a little bit to accomplish what you had planned. You know that Terry thinks you’re so predictable, and you really want to prove him wrong, and that you know him just as well as he knows you… while giving him a show in the process. Maybe you could send him down the hall for some ice?

“I think I’m going to take a quick shower before bed,” Terry says, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms low around your hips. “Would you like to join me?” he purrs in your ear. Perhaps you’d been a bit too sexual in showing your appreciation for him this week, if he’s come to expect it the minute you two get some privacy. You can’t say you mind it, with the exception of it interfering with your plans right now.

“I’m pretty tired, honey. I think I’ll just wait for you in bed…” you trail off, turning in his arms to give him a (relatively) chaste kiss before wriggling out of his grip, shooing him towards the bathroom.

The minute he closes the door, you spring into action, moving over to his suitcase and digging around. He had promised that this week would be just the two of you, no work, but you know him better than that by now. Sure enough, tucked into a pair of his socks is his badge and a pair of handcuffs. Giggling to yourself you take the restraints and close Terry’s suitcase again, hoping it still looks undisturbed.

Hopping onto the bed, you crawl to the headboard and thread the cuffs around one of the iron bars before concealing them with a pillow. You know that Terry will need to consent to the cuffs before you put them on – if he’s paranoid or stressed for any reason he won’t tolerate being incapacitated in such a way – but that doesn’t mean you can’t make them a bit of a surprise.

Returning to your own suitcase, you dig through your clothes, looking for the new lingerie that you bought for this trip. Hearing the shower turn off, you quickly change into it and throw your robe on overtop just in time.

Terry comes out, his long dark curls wet and dripping down his bare chest. He makes a beeline for you, but you barely notice, too fixated on how he’s only wearing a towel around his waist. As soon as you’re within his reach he pulls you into his arms, kissing you deeply. He’s already hard beneath the towel, his erection pressing insistently against your belly.

“You certainly aren’t dressed like you’re ready to sleep,” he murmurs against your lips, running his hands up and down your sides. His hands move to the tie on your robe, and you immediately put your hands over his, stopping him.

“Not just yet, Mister!” you exclaim with a giggle, shyly pushing him towards the bed. He follows your lead, sitting at the foot of the bed, pulling you close to stand between his legs.

“Not yet, huh?” he asks, giving you a playful pout. “What are we waiting for?”

You take a step back, suddenly shy, toying with the hem of your robe. Terry always took the lead when you were together, and switching roles has you nervous but excited, especially at the thought of how he’ll respond.

“Well, you’ve been so wonderful this week, Terry, and I’m so grateful. So I was thinking about giving you an early Christmas present…”

His nostrils flare at the implication, his eyes gleaming with interest. You can tell that he’s trying to guess what your gift is – he can’t help but investigate anything and everything.

“What did you have in mind, sweetheart?” he asks in a low, husky voice as he keeps his eyes locked with yours. Not wanting to lose your nerve, you decide that it would be better to show, not tell.

Closing the distance between you, you kiss him passionately, pleased by the groan he lets out into your mouth. You move your hands to his shoulders and press against them, guiding him to move towards the headboard, and as he obeys your wishes you keep your lips locked with his, following him until his back hits the headboard. You straddle his hips, making out with him until he’s trying to hold you down and grind himself against you. You stop toying with his damp curls, sliding your fingers down his strong arms and taking one of his hands in your own, lifting it up to kiss it sweetly. He gives you a soft smile, seeming almost hypnotized, and allows you to move it to the mattress and where the cuffs are hidden.

Not breaking eye contact, you pick up one of the cuffs and run it along his skin until he recognizes them by feel. Once he does you see his eyes widen in surprise before he gives you a coy smile, his dimples on full display.

“Now, where did a good girl like you get those?” he asks, and you fight the urge to blush. Part of the game was you being in control, after all.

“I stole them from your suitcase,” you tell him bluntly, giving him a cheeky smile that he returns with a chuckle.

“Little thief. I should take you in for something like that.”

“Let me put these on you and I’m more than happen to do the time afterwards, Officer.”

His tongue darts out to lick his lips, and he gives you a sly grin as permission to move forward with your little scheme, and you cuff him securely to the bed. You slowly slide off of him, taking his towel with you and leaving him bound and naked.

Biting your lip, you move to the room’s stereo system and put on some sultry music, feeling a little self-conscious. You hear Terry let out a dark chuckle from behind you and it helps you relax a bit. You didn’t need to be nervous around Terry; he wanted you just the way you were.

You toy with the tie on your robe for a moment, watching his eyes hone in on the movement, like he was trying to will your fingers to move. You slowly untie the knot at your waist and slip the robe off your shoulders, gradually revealing a dark red lace and silk nightgown that is form-fitting around your breasts and flows loosely to the tops of your thighs.

You watch Terry roll his shoulders, muscles bulging as he tests the strength of the cuffs and the bed frame; his whole body is leaning towards you like he’s being pulled to you by a magnetic force.

“Now, does this mean I’ve been naughty or nice this Christmas?” he asks, his eyes roaming your body hungrily.

You turn, swaying to the music as you do so. You barely need to bend forward for the bottom of the lingerie to ride up, revealing your butt clad in a matching red thong. “You tell me, Terry” you say coyly, looking at him over your shoulder. A low growl emanates from his chest and you feel a heady sense of power wash over you as you start to grasp just how much he wants you right now.

You slowly walk up to the foot of the bed, your rolling your hips exaggeratedly and look up his body at him. His entire body is tense with desire, and you can tell that he’s fighting the instinct to break free and just take you.

“Sweetheart, my present better not be looking and not touching, because you’ve got me crazy for you right now.”

Terry’s POV:

When Terry first started seeing you, people asked him why he had gone from dating a beautiful supermodel to a pretty but unremarkable ‘girl-next-door’ type. The answer was simple:

Anna was a model; You were a woman.

You were expressive, and passionate, and he knew that everything you did, every sound you made for him when you were together was organic and real and a result of what he did to you.

After your first kiss, he had never wanted a woman more than he wanted you; he was completely under your spell.

You straddle him in your sexy little nightie, purposefully not touching him, though the silk of your lingerie brushes up against his abs as you lean over to give him a scorching kiss. He rolls his hips, trying to grind up against you, but you move out of reach with a mocking pout.

“I’ll make you a deal, Terry,” you purr, fisting your tiny hand in his curls and tilting his head to make him look at you. When had you turned into a little dominatrix?

“The more you’re good for me, the naughtier I’ll be for you. Sound good?”

“Sounds like heaven, baby,” he groans appreciatively. “You can have your way with me any time you’d like,” he adds, giving you a wink.

“That’s a good boy,” you murmur, running your hands along his chest possessively. “Now let me taste you.”

You kiss him with everything you’ve got until you give in to your desire, lowering yourself onto his lap and grinding against him. He can feel how wet you are, your skimpy underwear already soaked, and curses under his breath but fights to stay still.

“You’re being so good for me, Terry,” you say approvingly, rocking your hips against his. Scooting down his thighs a bit, you start toying with the straps of your lingerie. “Do you think you’ve earned a bit of a show?”

“If I haven’t, just tell me what I need to do,” he replies hoarsely, his mouth dry. You teasing him has him nearly feral for you, the loss of control only heightening his arousal. You were the first and only person he’d ever let himself be at the mercy of.

“Good answer.”

Your sinful chuckle sends a pleasant shiver down his spine, and he holds your gaze as you slide the straps down your arms.

“Will you help me take this off?” you ask innocently, and he tugs pointedly against the cuffs, arching an eyebrow at you. Your lips twist into a cocky smirk and he feels himself get even harder, twitching against your inner thigh. “I guess you’ll have to work a little harder for it,” you add huskily, moving so your breasts are right in front of his face.

He immediately takes the hint, grabbing the top of your nightgown in his teeth and tugging it down with a growl. You pull it off the rest of the way once he gets it below your breasts, and he resists the urge to latch onto you, faintly remembering the need to behave himself. You hum with approval, your own hands moving to your chest to touch yourself. He bites his lip, watching you with hooded eyes.

“Watch what you do to me, love,” you demand in a soft whisper, grinding your hips as you roll your nipples between your fingers. “You get me so hot!”

“God, Y/N,” he hisses through his teeth; you have him feeling like he’s got fire running through his veins. “You’re so fucking sexy. Keep going, babygirl – make yourself feel good.”

You let out a needy whine, sliding down his legs and spreading yours to either side of him. Christ, he loves when you act like a desperate little whore for him.

“I’m so wet,” you groan, parting the pathetic excuse for underwear to the side to touch yourself, your other hand still teasing your nipples. His eyes start to roll back into his head, but he forces himself to focus; he doesn’t want to miss a second of this.

“Show me how wet you are. How many fingers can you pump inside that needy little pussy?”

You let out a depraved whine, throwing your head back as you easily slide three fingers inside yourself, grinding your hips in a slow figure 8 pattern and moaning his name again and again.

“Fucking hell sweetheart! I wish you could see how good you look right now.”

“We’ll make sure we have a camera next time,” you reassure him with a wink, and his brain shorts out.

Terry takes a minute or two to mentally recite as many Illinois Criminal Codes as he can remember to keep himself from shooting his load all over your chest and body; he hasn’t been this turned on without physical touch in… forever. He needs to be inside you, and it needs to be now.

“I don’t want to come without you inside me,” you inform him innocently as you get back on your knees, and he nearly loses control again. You’ll be the death of him if you keep this up…

“Can I clean your fingers for you, Mistress?” he requests, looking up at you pleadingly from under his lashes. A sheepish smile spreads across your face at the nickname; only you could be so innocent while being so fucking filthy. But he needs to keep you away from his dick for another few minutes if he wants to last, and by God does he want to last.

You raise your hand, fingers shining with your arousal, up to his mouth, and he stares deep into your eyes as he laves his tongue from your wrist up your palm before sucking one of your fingers into his mouth, savouring your taste and the little whimpers you let out at the attention. He gives your other digits the same dirty treatment, and you’re even more of a trembling mess by the time he’s finished.

“I want you so bad, Terry!” you whine needily, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “I just need to taste you first…”

You slide down the bed between his legs, ordering him to watch before you start giving him the sloppiest blowjob of his life; as if he’d want to look at anything else.

Your mouth is hot and wet as you bob your head, taking as much of him in your mouth as you comfortably can and swirling your tongue around his shaft. He itches to tangle his fingers in your hair and guide your movements, to thrust his hips up so you take him deeper down your throat, but he forces himself to stay still, letting out a litany of animalistic sounds as he endures this sweet torment.

With one last long, lewd suck as you lift your head from his lap, you release him from your mouth, kneeling up beside him.

“Baby, please – I can’t take anymore teasing, I have to take you!”

“I know you do, baby. Let’s get you comfortable, so you can let me do all the work.”

You guide him to move down the bed until he’s laying prone, tucking a few pillows under his head so it’s easier to watch you – you always had to make sure people were taken care of, him especially. He’s come to crave the attention after so long with you, he’s developed a taste for it.

By the time he’s in position you’ve pulled off your underwear and gotten onto the bed beside him, sitting on your knees. Without anymore stalling, you throw one leg over his hips, straddling him and facing his feet. You were going to ride him reverse cowgirl?

He drops his head back onto the pillow with a groan, hearing your answering giggle from further down his body. While you both normally preferred looking at each other, every once in awhile one of you would get the craving for some fast and rough fucking over something more intimate. This was undoubtedly one of those times, and he was completely at your mercy.

“I told you I was going to put on a show for you, sweetheart,” you tell him teasingly, shooting him a cheeky grin over your shoulder as you lift yourself up to line up his cock with your entrance. You sink onto him until you’re fully sitting on him, rolling your hips experimentally until he’s cursing under his breath. “Now tell me how you want me, Terry.”

“Start nice and slow baby, and go deep – I want to watch that ass as you take me.”

You eagerly obey, lifting yourself up until he’s almost fully slid out of you before dropping down again, rolling your hips as you find your rhythm.

“God yes, that’s so hot!” he groans, finally letting himself go as he bucks up against you, your hips working in tandem.

“I want to ride you so good, baby!” you moan, leaning forward slightly with your hands to either side of his legs and somehow making his view even more incredible. “I wanna be your perfect little fucktoy!”

“Oh, you already are, Y/N,” he hisses, fingernails digging into his palms as he thinks about kneading your ass while you’re riding him like this. “And you love it. This ass should be bouncing for me every day, shouldn’t it?” he growls, goading you even as you let out a needy moan as he talks dirty.  The ways that you wanted to be used…

“Fuck, yes, whenever you want!” you wail, your hips moving harder and faster as you get closer. “I was made for you!”

Damn right you were, and he’ll never let you forget it.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he commands, pistoning his own hips as much as he can – you’ve done more than enough for him, tonight and every night. “Come all over this cock, my dirty girl.”

"Come with me, Terry!" you beg, looking over your shoulder with your face a twisted mask of ecstasy. "I need to feel you fill me up!"

"I'm close baby; you gotta earn it. Make me come for you."

He's not even sure what you do - let alone how you learned to do it - but you arch your back just the right way to take him a little deeper, your cunt clenching around him greedily and it sends him over the edge, coming deep inside you with a guttural snarl of your name.

You reach down to your clit, grinding your hips with him still inside you as you give yourself over the edge to a powerful orgasm that has you bending backwards, your hair tickling his chest as you chant his name. He watches you come apart and try to catch your breath and he yearns to hold you.

He's more than happy to let you have your way with him, but he needs to take care of your after.

"Where's the key, sweetheart?" he asks gently, though you're still dazed and riding the high of your orgasm.

"Key?" you echo in a breathy, high voice, your eyes finally meeting his from where you're laying back on his chest. "Oh, right. Sorry!" you chirp, giving him a silly grin.

You reluctantly climb off of him, stumbling slightly as you move to retrieve your robe off the floor, rooting through the pockets for the small silver key. You hurry over to unlock the cuffs, kissing each of his wrists as you free them, back to being his innocent little angel. He slips under the covers with you, gathering you into his arms and laying a kiss on the tip of your nose.

"Does that mean you liked your present?" you ask with a dreamy little smile.

"Just when I think you can't give me any more of yourself you go and do something like this," he replies with a chuckle, taking the side of your face in his palm. "Of course I liked it; I love you."

Your gaze softens and he feels you melt against him even more. "All of me belongs to you, Terry. I love you with all I am."

"Keep talking like that and I'm going to have to do something about it."

"What do you have in mind?" you ask, a pretty blush dusting your cheeks. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of how you manage to be innocent and depraved. He gives you a serious look, holding your gaze until you're twitching in anticipation.

"Maybe next time it'll be you in the cuffs, babygirl."

---

Now, I *did* have an idea for an extra section to this where you wake up with the cuffs on. Should I write a follow up, or save the idea and move on to something else? Let me know!

[storiesofsvu]

Alright, it is time. Im not gonna lie to you, I’m both excited and worried about this episode. Am I more worried about the potential cringe that might happen or the fandom lashing out when they don’t get what they want? I’m honestly not sure.

So like…can we please just remember, we get what we get and fics, video edits, etc can “fix” them and make the endings that we really want. PLEASE don’t be attacking other fans or tagging actors in your posts complaining about shit, lets be polite and friends at the end…

WHY do so many show use the iphone “alarm” sound for major alarms, it honestly drives me insane

We SAW voit going back into his cell so this has got to be a nightmare sequence.

THIS is the singing shit?! Jfc guys

AND there we go with the bullet wound paget teased, now we now that isn’t an issue.

Honestly, this entire intro would have been way more powerful if we hadn’t been shown the jemily sneak peek, cause obvi it’s not whats going on if that happens later on in the ep…

Okay so… Emily either ended up at pen’s or called her up to drink and crashed on that couch and that’s how she ended up there? (obvi drunk cause of the bucket, but I still want more info lol)

Rossi needs like..sleep…and meds… him being in charge of the bau rn isn’t okay. Obvi Emily wasn’t in much better shape, and jj is like going through her own shit but it’s been YEARS of rossi saying he doesn’t want the job and jj has been the interim boss before so like, shouldn’t it just go to her? also like, rossi could/should easily take a step back, chill out, take a day of leave, this isn’t healthy. God everyone on this team needs SO much therapy…

“please im a mom, I’ve seen worse” jj is literally shifting right back into mom mode cause she knows that’s what Emily needs.

Thank GOD for tara to be able to see this, and finally be able to dig into it (hopefully lol)

UGH I FUCKING LVOE TARA SO MUCH WHY DOESN’T SHE GET THE LOVE SHE DESERVES

Like, she KNOWS dave needs help and to talk and is avoiding therapy, but doesn’t really want to open up right away so she just sits with him and lets him know that she’s there…

JJ GRABBING THE CHEETO RIGHT AWAY YESSS

Okay at least there’s explanation as to why this scene is so dark LOL

How did Emily wake up, get snacks, get drunk and get high between the time Penelope left for work and jj get to the apartment. Like, I swear it’s still before noon…. Also … homegirl is SO high…lol

Okay, so, so far I am glad that the scene/scenario was so short, like that arc of this episode is the comedic arc (so far) that keeps the ep light. Yes, it is more paget in Emily than we’re used to seeing, but also, Emily is full on losing her shit and it’s this loose, a little wild, unhinged Emily (that we saw briefly in the ep Saturday when, once again, she was intoxicated) we also at this point in the ep don’t know how/why/when she got high. And things like cbd/gummies/smaller doses are pretty regularly and readily available, correct? (I live in Canada, its all legal here so im not sure on specifications and im too lazy to google it rn lol) OBVI it would be very against fbi protocol, but again, she’s convinced she’s lost her job already… (and we all do some wild/stupid/rash things when we think we’ve lost our jobs/are on the brink of it… trust me..)

I think this is the first time we’ve gotten to see Tara use her doctorate (is that the right word lol) amongst the team and I hope we get to see a lot more of it. Like, let’s remember that she’s a dr!

Ah, okay, its legal in the district… got it. HOWEVER, she does say she uses THC to get her brain to unwind and the way it was said seems like it’s a pretty regular thing?? So like.. does that shit leave your body within 12 or less hours? Or is it fine for a fed to test positive for a lowered amount? Im not good at science so I’m gonna pretend that it’s the same as having a glass of wine or bottle after work lol…

Omg lolololol. Okay, yeah this is very fanfic of them, but I don’t really care, as if Emily got EDIBLE FUCKING CHEETOS. Like of COURSE jj would snag a few of them.. LOL.

How tf is tyler in an interrogation room….

Emily talking about how the longer in the job you lose yourself or your loved ones or more and like.. she’s literally lost all of that multiple times and has still managed to come back and be strong for herself and her team? God im fucking crying.

ALSO sobbing over jj being worried about someone from her kids high school finding the ai porn, cause fuck that somehow didn’t even cross my mind…

Man they are really pushing garvez HARD this season… and I don’t know if I want them dating or besties lol.

Ngl. I honestly am SO much less invested in the case part of these episodes than the personal/friendships… I LOVE Zach and think he’s an incredible actor and when voit is a person and not a hallucination I don’t mind him being a regular, but this whole shit with tyler? Im bored. So bored. I’m bored of this case, I want sicarius gone. S16 was good, it was one mega unsub with a mini unsub per each episode and I liked that cause it was different yet also similar to the same style of 1.0. but this is.. pushing it.

Okay thank GOD tyler didn’t actually go rogue and go in alone, jfc he’s gained some sense.

Man, all these two girls have eaten all day is chips.. they need some actual food LOL. “the ones that came before us, Gideon, hotch” lowkey hate that there has not been a single mention of elle….

 I do love that emily’s team always has her back and wants her to continue to be working with them, but iirc there was some difference to when she was gonna quit with barnes in charge, reid begged her not to leave, jj says “I’ll support you no matter what”

LOL the “I can’t drive..” “well, I can’t…” “rideshare?”

Also im sorry but they’re both SO professional once they get to work and em’s in full business casual?? Maybe more time passed than led on cause they seem pretty sober now lol.

Alright, welp, that’s it. Tonight’s ep was honestly meh. I loved some moments; I hated others and some were super boring. Overall, not the strongest that we’ve had yet this season… who knows what next week holds!

[supercriminalbean]

Family Pride.

Jennifer Jareau X Transgender!Reader

Jennifer Jareau X child!Reader!

A/N: Hi. So I wrote this to fix my own heart a few weeks back and finally just finished editing it. I personally really like this one, not just because it fixed my issues for a little bit. My writing skills still need work but I really like this storyline. I don’t think there is enough fics out there with Will in them, so I hope I did this justice 😊 To anyone who is going through a hard time coming out to their family or their family is non supportive or worse than please know you are loved! There are people out there who will support you, it may take awhile to find them sometimes but they are there. And if not I am, even if I don’t know you, please know I will always be in your corner. Love you all, please look after yourself and if you need to never be afraid to reach out to the support system in place around you or the healthlines in your country, please. Love y’alls.

Summary: Transgender Reader (FTM) coming out to their parents JJ and Will.

Warnings: Fluff, some Angst, Homophobia, transphobia, swearing, crying, anxiety, self harm briefly mentioned (just scratching) If I have missed anything let me know, thank you. 

Words: 4.5k

Your Mum was meant to be home an hour ago, you had already gotten the boys ready for bed. Now your two little brothers are laying on the couch together, watching ‘Finding Nemo’.  The only movie that both the boys could agree on tonight. While those two are happily watching the movie, you clean up the dishes from the dinner.

Cleaning up the house so your Mum doesn’t have to deal with it when she gets home from work. Knowing she's had such a long week. Will had helped clean the kitchen before dinner, before he had to head off for the night shift. So there wasn’t too much for you to do, you’re thankful for that.  Once the kitchen is clean once more, you join your brothers in the living room for the movie. Laying on your beanbag in the corner, being able to play on your phone while you can still keep an eye on the boys and the movie. Sighing softly as you look down at your Mum's latest text. She had let you know that she was running late and had asked you to put the boys to bed and that she will be home before you guys wake up in the morning. 

~~~

It wasn’t unusual for you to look after your brothers on nights like this. But it doesn't mean that it doesn’t sucked sometimes. Your parents run a busy life and sometimes you don’t always have time to speed time with them. Being 17 you hold a lot of responsibility not just at home but at school as well. You're in your last year of high school and school isn't exactly your thing, so having to decide what to do for university is difficult. Especially when you're surrounded by intelligent and successful people, giving yourself high expectations. 

~~~

Your brothers are a lot younger than you, Henry is now 9 years old while Micheal is turning 4 in a couple weeks. You were 7 years old when your Mum introduced you to Will. They had been dating for almost a year when she had finally introduced him to you. Your father has never been in the picture, he took off after finding out your Mum was pregnant. But your Mum has always been strong, and she knew she could raise you alone if she had to. She was 21 when she gave birth to you and never has had any regrets being a young single mother, raising you all alone. She still got into the FBI and the team soon became your family. On some days she had to bring you to the office and on those days, the team was over the moon to get to know JJ and you better. 

~~~

When Will entered your life, you were worried at first. Not used to having someone step in as a father figure. But you never had to be, he never rushed into that position. He never acted like a father, he allowed you to take your time warming up to him. Never forced you to call him dad, never made you feel like he was trying to steal your Mum from you. When your Mum became pregnant with Henry, you grew quiet from them for a little bit. Your Mum tried to get you to know that this was a good thing, but it never sunk in. Not until Will talked to you, told you that no matter what happened that he would never leave you or your sibling. That he would stick around and that he would love you, even if things went south with your Mum. It was the first heart to heart you had with him. He held you as your little kid heart cried, telling him you were scared he would leave. He never did and you now know, he never will, no matter how bad a situation get. 

~~~

You remember how nervous you were when you told your parents that you’re pansexual and that you wanted them to meet your girlfriend. You had sat them both on the couch while the boys were upstairs having a nap. Your leg couldn't stop bouncing, which has always been your biggest sign of anxiousness. Your Mum had placed a hand on your leg and told you that it was okay no matter what you had to tell them. Will just smile softly at you and take your hand.

“Darling, what's going on, in that mind of yours?” That soft loving smile of his, made you break open and tell them. You knew deep down that they would be okay with it, but you were still a little nervous. You didn’t want them to disown you, like some of your friends have gone through.

Turns out you had nothing to worry about, they accepted you with open arms and told you they were so proud of you for coming out. Will told you that he will still be threatening anyone you bring home that no one is allowed to hurt his sweet child. You and your Mum laughed at him, knowing he of course, would do that. They met your girlfriend that night and welcomed her with open arms.

~~~

Now here you are, not even three years later. Waiting for your Mum to get back so you can come out once more. You know your parents would never judge you for your sexuality, but being transgender. That's where you don’t know where Will stands on that issue. You don’t want to disappoint them, they already have two sons, do they really want another one? Your Mum has alway said how much she loved having an older daughter, having at least one girl out of the boys. Why would your parents want a family fill of boys, would it be too much. You were so nervous that they would be so disappointed in you. It's not like you can help who you are, you have known for a while who you truly are. You have only come out to a small handful of your friends. Even then, not all of them accepted you. Your girlfriend broke up with you. Calling you a freak and all sorts of names and refusing to ever speak to you again, after that day. Your best friend of 7 years, said they would support you then avoid you from that day onwards. But your other two friends who you hadn’t know for that long said fuck em, and they were your support system. They respect and support every decision you ever make. They are real friends, it doesn't matter how much time you have known each other for. 

~~~

Once the movie is ending, Micheal has already fallen asleep on the couch while Henry is half asleep, struggling to stay awake. Smiling softly as you get up, picking Micheal up gently. Carrying him to his bedroom, placing him in his bed, being careful not to wake him. You're happy the boys had listened to you earlier and had gotten ready for bed before the movie had started. Making sure that his teddy is beside him, for him to grab during the night. You smile softly, leaving your brother to get his rest. Walking back down to get your other brother to his bed. Luckily you don’t have to carry this one as you see him sitting up on the couch rubbing his eyes sleepy. 

“Hey kiddo, come on let's get you to bed” Smiling softly at your little brother. Who groans softly as he gets up grabbing his blanket as he walks over to you.

“Where's Mummy?” He mumbles tiredly. Leaning into you as you lead him to his bedroom.

“She's stuck at work buddy, but she will be back before we wake up” Smiling sadly as you help him into bed. Turning on his little rocket ship nightlight, that he just can not sleep without.

“M’kay, goodnight sis, I love you” Henry whispers as he closes his eyes. Cuddling into his blanket as he falls asleep.

“I love you to Bro” Kissing his forehead softly as you walk out. A gross feeling filling your stomach being the reaction of the word sis. 

~~~

You go back and lay on the couch, sighing tiredly as you pick up the tv remote. Putting netflix on, flicking through to find a movie to watch. Settling on a horror movie for the night, one of your favourites. Playing on your phone as you let the movie become background noise, turning it down so it doesn’t wake your brothers. Sending your Mum a quick text.

Hey Mum, both the boys are asleep and your dinners in the fridge if you are hungry when you get home. Love you xx

It takes a few minutes but she does text back, rather quickly for how busy you imagine she is.

Thank you Angel, tonight is slowing down so I should be home in a couple hours. Don’t stay up to late tonight my sweet girl Love you xx

Smiling softly knowing that if the night is slowly down that means she won’t be in any danger tonight. Making your heart slow down knowing she is safe for now. Your eyes can’t help but focus on the word girl. The taunt, the sick feeling in your gut. The fear and knowledge that maybe that's all you will ever be. No stop thinking that, you tell yourself. That is not true, you will never think that about others so that's not true about yourself. Taking a deep breath as you repeat these words. You know it's okay to be transgender, that it's okay to be anything. To be a part of the LGBTQIA Plus community but sometimes, negative thoughts can still invade you. 

~~~

You have decided that you are going to stay awake tonight, stay up until your mum finally gets home. A couple hours isn't much, you can enjoy your favourite horror movie in the meantime. Grabbing your blanket that's on the edge of the couch as you place your phone down. Relaxing into the couch as you do your best to distract your brain from coming out. Slowly you start to fall asleep as the movie starts to end, feeling exhausted from the week. 

~~~

You slowly wake up hearing the front door close, hearing someone walking in quietly. Making their way into the living room where you are. You sleepily pull yourself up into a sitting position, your eyes blinking a lot trying to get used to the light in the room. The light coming from the windows, the sun starting to come up for the start of the day.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing up?’ Your Mum asks softly, from behind you. Coming to move over to you.

“Was waiting for you” Mumbling out sleepy, smiling softly at her.

“Oh I'm sorry, I got stuck at work my love” She sighs sadly, looking at you guilty. She knows you like to know that she's safe at night time, that you like to have some Mother and daughter time. 

“It's okay, how was work?” You smile tiredly at her, yawning softly.

“It was alright we got the unsub so now I have the weekend off to spend it with my babies” She smiles lovingly at you. “So why don’t you go to bed and get a couple more hours of sleep and then later on we can have some time together okay” JJ smiles at you holding out a hand for you.

“I uh” Gulping as you glance at her hand, you stayed up so you would have time alone to talk. You know it's now or never. “I wanted to talk to you about something” Your words come out quietly, weakly.

JJ eyebrows narrow at your body langues, the anxiety is written across your body making her frown.

“What is sweet girl, you can tell me anything” JJ sits beside you, worrying as she watches you. Your leg is bouncing with nerves, taking a deep breath as you feel your heartbeat starting to speed up, glancing quickly at your Mum. The worry evident on her face, her hand is quick to capture yours as it starts to scratch at your arm, one of your really bad habits you do. 

“Babygirl, come on, I'm right here, whatever it is, it will be okay” 

~~~

“Please don’t call me that” Your voice is shaking when you finally find your voice again. Trying to take deep breaths to calm yourself. That confuses JJ, you have always been her babygirl why of, all of a sudden do you not like this. JJ squeezes your hand softly, nodding.

“Okay I’m sorry, I won’t call you that again I know some people don’t like being referred to as a baby, sweetheart but—”

“It's not the baby part” You interrupted her. Taking another deep breath staring at the floor, trying to ground yourself. “It's the girl bit, it's..” Looking up at her, feeling vulnerable and scared. “Mum I’m not a girl, I’m transgender” Gulping thickly as you stare into her eyes, your heart pounding against your chest, feeling like it's about to explode at any second. JJ stays quiet for a few seconds, processing what she has just heard. Before she smiles widely with relief, gripping your hand tightly.

“Oh thank god, I thought you were going to tell me something bad or that you were pregnant or something, which is completely fine if you were I would support you if you were but thank god, your not because there is enough kids under this house right now” JJ words tumble out of her mouth quickly, smiling happily with relief. Her reaction makes your eyes widen in confusement, you were expecting a different reaction than that.

~~~

“W wait what?” Is all you get out. Staring at her in surprise, while your leg stops bouncing as your heart beat slows down to a normalish speed. Your Mum just smiles lovingly at you.

“I'm sorry, that wasn’t the best reaction huh” JJ laughs softly. Wrapping her arm around your shoulder pulling you into her, sensing you needed a hug. Knowing physical touch can help ground you when your anxiety is high. You lean your head into her shoulder, nodding.

“I..yeah not exactly.. But you're okay with it, right?”  Whispering quietly, still feeling on edge. 

“Of course I am sweetheart” JJ smiles, then it slowly drops. “Wait, is it okay if I call you that, and also what are your pronouns?”

“I'm okay with you calling me sweetheart, but only you” Smiling softly. Joy fills your heart as your Mum accepts you, snuggling closer into her for comfort which she happily accepts. “I would prefer more masculine or even gender neutral terms, and my pronouns are He/they” Smiling softly as you let the words float out of you easily. 

“Okay and would you prefer I refer to you as my child or son” JJ runs her hand through your hair. Smiling gently, enjoying the way you crawl up in her arms, knowing you feel safe that way.

“I'm okay with either one” 

“Okay and did you want to change your name, I know some trans people feel more comfortable doing so” JJ whisper softly. Feeling you relax and become more sleepy in her arms.

“I want to and I have a list of some ideas but I’m unsure of what to pick” You admit sleepy, closing your eyes. Allowing the exhaustion due to the anxiety you had early, take over your body. 

“Well if you like I’m happy to help you decide because I do not want you stuck with such a  basic name” JJ jokes softly. Kissing your head softly knowing you're close to drifting off to sleep.

“I would like yours and Dad help to decide. I still need to tell him, later today” Your shoulder tenses up a little. Your eyes open a little looking up at your Mum meeting her eyes, nervous again.

~~~

“I.. Is Will going to be okay with this?” Your voice shrinks again, looking afraid. Scared to push him away.

“Honey, Will loves you and he is going to accept you for who you are okay, he won’t have a problem with it” JJ reassures you gently, rubbing your shoulders softly. 

“Okay.. I was just so nervous that you guys…” You let your voice trail off, glancing down not wanting to finish that thought.

“That we what, love?” Your Mum ask worriedly, that she may have made you think that at anypoint that they wouldn’t accept you for anything.

“I.. I was worried you guys wouldn’t want me because I was a boy… that you guys thought you already had enough sons” You admit your fear, gulping as you glance up at your Mum. Watching as her face falls, the pain in her eyes. 

“Oh my love, that is never true okay” She softly moves your hair out of your face, cupping your face gently as your eyes fill with tears. 

“I I know but.. But my brain kept telling me different things. It's hard to not believe it sometimes Mum I’m sorry” You let a soft cry, a couple tears slide down.

“Oh honey.. No, don't apologise, it's okay, we can all get stuck inside our own minds some days but we just can’t allow it to consume us, okay my love?” JJ speaks softly. Her voice is full of care and love.

“I know.. I won’t let it” You smile weakly at her, relaxing back into her. 

“Good, and about you thinking that I wouldn’t want you, because you're a boy” She can't help but scoff a little. “I do not care what form you come in, I will always love you, because you are you and you are my little child, nothing that you identify with, will change your personality and that's the most important thing ever, am I clear” She speaks firmly, her hand moves off your chin coming to rest in your lap.

“Yes Mum, I understand” Smiling lightly nodding, your heart warming up as her words set in. “I love you so much Mum”

“I love you too, my child” She kisses your forehead softly. Wrapping both her arms around you, holding you closely. 

~~~

You two lay there in each other arms for a few minutes, giving you time to calm down and some overdue mother and child time. You're not sure how long you two are laying there for, but soon the front door opens, indicating that Will is now home. You go to sit up a little, your heart starts racing, getting nervous again. You don’t get to move far because your Mum's grip around you tightens, pulling you closer into her. Will walks in, placing his bags down on the table quietly, doing his best to not wake the house, believing everyone is asleep. That is before he walks into the living room and goes to walk past the couch, not noticing his two people laying there. 

“Well good morning handsome” JJ speaks softly, breaking the silence. Making Will jump backwards gasping loudly.

“Holy jesus, Jennifer!” Will yelps turning around to look at the couch. Where you and JJ are laughing silently, doing your best to not wake up the boys. 

“That is not funny, you two” He laughs softly as he walks over. Coming to sit opposite you two, sitting down on the coffee table lightly. 

“Oh no it was hilarious, I mean you should have seen your face dad” Laughing quietly as you look up at him. 

“Alright alright it's too early for you to be teasing me” Will laughs shaking his head. “What are you both doing awake, you should still be in bed, and you should be in bed asleep after staying at work so late” Will looks at you both pointedly.

“Oh we were just talking” JJ smiles, slowly pulling herself away from you, placing one final kiss on your forehead before she gets up. Standing up to give her husband a hug and a quick peek on the lips. 

“Ew gross, it's too early for that” You groan as you watch them, which makes them both laugh softly. 

~~~

“Okay, I am going to go make breakfast because the boys will be up soon, in the meantime you two, talk” JJ smiles softly, giving you a soft encouraging look before she walks out quickly. Will looks at JJ as she walks out then at you confused.

“Talk? Is something wrong?” Will ask concerned and confused as you refuse to meet his eyes.

“Maybe, I mean no but possibly but I just.. I guess it just depends” Gulping thickly as you feel your arms start to shake again. 

“Hey, whatever it is, I'm right here, I'm never going to leave, remember?” Will smiles softly. Trying to remind you of the convince you two had many years ago, where he promised you he would never leave you. 

“I know” Smiling weakly, feeling your mouth tremble a little, still unable to meet his eyes, staring at the floor. Soon you feel the couch beside you dip, his hand coming to rest on your knee. 

“Darling, talk to me?” Will takes a deep breath before he continues. “Look, if your pregnant, we can deal with that as a family” 

You finally look up at him, meeting his concern looks. Knowing his heart is in the right palace but you can’t help but laugh at him.

“Dad, I’m not pregnant” Laughing weakly as you calm down. Smiling as you start to relax, knowing that it's finally time.

“O oh” He laughs, the worry falling off his face. “That is good, because as much as we would support you, I am over hearing babies cry” 

“So am I” Nodding in agreement.

~~~

“Okay then darling, so what is it?” Will watches you, cornered again.

“I.. Dad Im transgender” Gulping thickly as you look at him. Your heart is pounding, fearing for a bad reaction. You should have known better though, because instead, you got the biggest smile from him instead.

“That's great darling, thank you for telling me” He smiles proudly, as he wraps his arm around your shoulders. You happily lean into him, feeling at ease at his touch.

“You're okay with it?” Asking quietly, just to reassure yourself, feeling loved with his response.

“Of course I am, you're still my kid no matter what” He chuckles softly, kissing your head. “So what are your pronouns and is there anything I should know? I'm not great at knowing all of these things but I will do my best but you will need to help me darling” He smiles happily at you as he speaks, enjoying the way you relax in his arms. Feeling comfortable enough to tell him about this important part of you. 

“That's alright I can help you the best I can” Humming softly, as you glance at the kitchen hearing your Mum making some noise. “Also my pronouns are He/They and I would prefer more masculine or even gender neutral terms, but I'm okay with you referring to me as darling, but only you though. I also want to be referred to as, your son or child is okay as well” Speaking with confidence, grinning happily as you finally get to say it out loud in the presence of your parents. 

“That is great, I might slip up a few times just correct me” Will smiles at you, his heart throbbing as he watches you proudly. 

~~~

“I also want to change my name but I was um, hoping to get you and Mum's opinions on it as well” You look up, as you hear your Mum walk in. 

“Well Darling, I think we can help you out with that”

“That we can, do you want to do it?” JJ smiles as she walks over to you two. 

“Please that would be great, hang on I have them written down somewhere” Grinning happily as you get up, running off to your room, returning quickly holding a piece of paper that's half crumpled up. The list of names on it isnt to long, and  few of the ones you love the most are highlighted. You settle back on the couch, in between your parents, who were talking under their breath so you wouldn’t notice. 

“Okay so this is my list what do you think” Grinning excitedly at them as you hold out the list.

“I think you need to learn how to keep things tidy, so they don’t get crumpled,” JJ shakes her head as she looks through the list.

“Yeah yeah Mum I know” Rolling your eyes as you watch your parents look through the list.

“Okay that one is my favourite” Will smiles pointing at the one scribbled on the side, that is highlighted.

“Hey that was my pick” JJ grumbles annoyedly, making you both laugh.

“That is also my absolute favourite one too” Grinning happily. 

“So that settles it then” Will nudges you lightly.

~~~

“It does indeed, my name is now, (Y/n) Roslyn Jareau LaMontagne” Smiling as you glance up at Will, who has the biggest grin on his face. 

“You want my last name as well?” 

“Well I mean you are my dad so it makes sense, plus my brothers have your name so why can’t I?” Shrugging your shoulder as you glance up at your Mum. “That's okay, right?” 

“Of course it is sweetheart, my sons all got to have the same last name” Her smile grows bigger, when she catches her husband's eyes, which now have tears in them. The last time she saw him like this it was just after the first time you called him dad. JJ’s surprised he didn’t burst into tears in that moment, or even in this moment either. She leans over to squeeze his hand softly.

“We can do that later this month, go to the court to get your name changed and everything, we can make a day of it” JJ smiles, pulling you closer into her. 

~~~

“I would like that” You yawn softly, the exhausted finally catching up to you. 

“Okay I think you need to go to bed after breakfast okay, then later this afternoon we can go shopping if you like, get you some new clothes and anything else you might need?” JJ offers, slowly getting up holding her hand out for you which you happily take.

“Can I get a haircut too?” Smiling, feeling hopeful. 

“Sure can” Will smile, leading you guys to the kitchen, only for you three to be intrepid by two little boys running in.

“Mummy!” Micheal yells happily running over to her jumping into her arms, Henry goes straight to Will for his morning hug. Making you laugh as you move the waffles your Mum made over to the table for everyone to enjoy. 

~~~

[dorminchu]

Between Heaven and Earth: Chapter Three

a/n: Trying out shorter chapters, for the sake of editing and pacing.

Before the breach, Eren’s biggest opponents were childhood bullies who picked on him or Armin, and the occasional doubter of the Scouting Legion’s potential. Whereas his mother was against the idea of his enlistment from the beginning, his father suggested he could become a field medic. After all, there were more ways to help humanity than killing Titans. A lesser evil, no doubt posed for his mother’s sake. To Eren, it was better than disapproval.

Once Mikasa came to live with their family, she took the spot next to Eren’s bed in the loft. She was so quiet, if Eren hadn’t gotten to know her so well he’d have assumed she was only shy. But she looked out for him in the same way he did Armin, like the sister he’d never had. Sure, she could be a little stubborn and overprotective, chiding him for picking fights he couldn’t win, but Eren never loathed her for it. She was just keeping him on the straight and narrow, same as he’d do for her or Armin or anyone important.

That afternoon they spent chopping wood. Mikasa was pretty good at it, having grown up in the countryside. Armin couldn’t keep the same pace with the axe, too nervous of the potential for harm. He’d struggle to carry home the amount of wood as Eren, though he never complained about it. When Eren offered to help him, though, Armin would snap that he was fine, that he didn’t need to be worried after.

Eren didn’t get it. He wasn’t worrying after Armin, anyone could see that he was struggling, but that just made it worse. So he gave Armin his space, for the sake of their friendship. Eren didn’t mind bringing Mikasa along. If Armin felt differently, he didn’t say.

On the way back, they passed by a couple Garrison soldiers playing cards. Mister Hannes wasn’t at his post to-day. Probably blotto.

“She’s part of the family,” Eren said.

“Yeah,” the Garrison soldier said, “we heard about what happened. You’ve got the luck of the Devil.”

Eren shrugged. “I’d do it again.”

The men shared a laugh, more to themselves.

Mikasa said nothing for a while. Moving on, the usual silence between them felt different. When she asked, “Why the Scouting Legion?” Eren hesitated. Armin had made him swear not to tell anyone about his grandfather’s theories. Not even his mother and father would speak of it.

“Can you keep a secret?”

Mikasa nodded.

Eren turned down a side-street, away from prying eyes. “ Because there must be a world beyond these Walls,” he said. “Just like the Titans. We don’t know where they come from or how they’re created, so it stands to reason we must not know about what’s on the other side of the Walls. Once the Titans are eradicated, we can take back what was stolen from humanity.”

“How can you be sure it’s true?”

Eren shrugged her off. “What does that matter if I’m sure or not? It’s our right to see what’s out there.”

Mikasa frowned slightly. “What’s out there?”

“Armin told me,” he said quietly. “His grandfather knows a lot of things about the outside world. He has books from the world outside the Walls. But his family could get in a lot of trouble if anyone finds out. They’ll say he’s spreading misinformation.”

Mikasa nodded. She readjusted the scarf. She never went a day without it. His mother would’ve chastised her by now.

“You should wash it,” he said, “before you wear it out.”

“I know,” she muttered. “It just reminds me of you.”

Eren said, “Why does that matter?”

Mikasa wouldn’t talk to him. She wouldn’t explain what he’d done to upset her, either.

When they got back to the house and his mother asked how they’d been, Mikasa parroted his statement about the Scouting Regiment.

“Yes,” his mother said dryly, “I’ve yet to change his mind.”

Eren shot Mikasa a look. Was she still upset? Or just playing mother hen? What did she know about the Scouting Legion, anyway?

“The Garrison is already overcrowded,” Eren said. “And the Military Police is corrupt, they'd sooner sit on their asses then fix anything.”

“The military just want to boost their numbers,” his mother said. “They've been working on their slogans to make up for it.”

Eren scowled at the pile of lumber he'd brought in. Mikasa's eyes rested on the side of his neck.

“They’re doing the job that no one else can,” he said. “It’s more than the Garrison have done.”

The plate slipped from his mother’s hands and shattered against the floor. Mikasa flinched. Eren did not.

“The Scouting Legion,” his mother said, in a tight voice, “has taken more lives campaigning for a suicide mission than the plague did. If that’s what your heart is set on, you might as well just throw your life away.”

“We’re no better than livestock then. Why have a military at all?”

“Better to be livestock then carrion,” his mother said.

Even then, Eren couldn't muster any real animosity beyond childish frustration. She was saying it to protect him, the only way she knew. She'd lived her whole life inside the Walls and never questioned what she was told. She’d grown too comfortable, hunkered down in this house, wasting away.

While Eren took out his feelings on the washboard and laundry, Mikasa stayed behind to help his mother with dinner. Usually Eren would be the one pitching in, but with two equally stubborn people living under the same roof, they’d get into another argument if they didn’t cool off first. Besides, his mother had taken kindly to Mikasa. She probably appreciated the extra help.

After dinner, his mother took him aside. Eren was bracing himself for another lecture about humanity’s sake not being his burden, and how he should at least try to think about his future rather than an ideal. But all she asked about was Mikasa’s change in mood.

“Oh, well, I said she ought to wash the scarf before she wore it out. And she said it reminded her of me, which doesn’t change what I said. It’s her scarf now. She can wear it if she wants to, it’s just going to get dirty is all.”

His mother sighed. “Eren, I don’t think she’s unaware.”

Eren averted his eyes. “I reckon that I hurt her feelings.”

“She told me about the day you found her. It’s a nice memory,” his mother said. “Perhaps one of the few memories she has of that day. Sometimes, when people are grieving, they’ll act in ways that might seem a little strange. Just give her some time to adjust. I’m sure she’ll wash the scarf.”

“Right,” he said. He was about to apologise for their fight, but his mother had a habit of shrugging the topic off when it came to the military. So he wouldn’t bring it up anymore, at least not while she was present. Five years was a long time away from conscription.

As he got ready for bed, Mikasa was sitting by the window with the dying flame of a candlewick. The view wasn’t much. From the belltower, you’d be able to see all the way to the river that ran through Shiganshina. But here, you couldn’t even see over the Wall, though that wasn’t much to write home about either.

“It’s a nice view,” Mikasa said. “Even with all these buildings in the way. It’s a lot of roofs.”

Eren huffed. “I guess I never really thought about it that way.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “About those Garrison men. I shouldn’t have talked so much about what happened.”

Mikasa looked at him oddly. “Why not?”

“Because—it’s none of their business.”

“All they need to know is that I live with your family now, after my parents died. Otherwise it would be a little odd.”

“Why would that be odd?”

She shrugged. “Because I had to come from somewhere. Unless Doctor Jaeger kidnaps children in his spare time, which isn’t likely. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible either. Maybe that’s why he’s gone for such a long period of time.”

Eren snorted. “You’re being silly.”

The corner of her mouth turned. “But he could be harbouring secrets we don’t know about. How do you really know he’s going where he says?”

Eren shook his head. “He’s just working in the next town over. Mister Hannes and the other Garrison soldiers know him. Captain Shadis, as well, so they’d know if he wasn’t where he said.”

“Shadis?”

“That’s right, I never told you. Captain Shadis is in the Scouting Legion.”

“Did your father ever join?”

“No, he’s just a regular doctor. I used to think he’d be a field medic at least.”

The candle snuffed out with the breeze. Eren hiked his shoulders up to disguise a shiver. Mikasa went to close the shutters and he said, “I’m sorry for what I said, about the scarf.”

Mikasa paused. “It’s all right.”

⁂

Between the evening of Wall Maria’s breach, and waking up next to Armin and Mikasa in the workhouse, there was a gap in Eren’s memory. Whenever roused, unsure of himself, he would reach for his breast and find the shape of the key. Physical evidence of the home he’d once occupied.

Armin and Mikasa, and Mister Hannes, they hadn’t watched. Eren could’ve closed his eyes against what was happening, but he was powerless. Clinging to rage, it wasn’t for the sake of bravery. It was the only just response in a world so unfathomably cruel.

On the boat, the Garrison soldiers gave them all rations and a canteen to pass around. When Armin passed it to him, Mikasa grabbed Eren’s wrist with a start.

He’d torn his nails attempting to lift the cross-section of a beam too heavy for him. When Mister Hannes pulled him away from the wreckage, Eren’s bloody fingerprints were all over his Garrison jacket. The dull red crust coagulated around his nailbed.

“It’s not that bad,” Eren said. He didn’t react to her grip.

Mikasa’s eyes turned stony. She tore a small scrap of cloth from the hem of her dress, before he could protest, and wrapped it gently around his fingers.

“You’ll see a proper doctor,” she said. “Once we get to Trost.”

Eren nodded. He was staring ahead. Without any Titans present to project his rage onto, he was void of sentiment. Armin laid his head on Eren’s shoulder, and Mikasa’s arm came around them both.

⁂

Despite his record for injuries—concussion in 848, multiple sprains, a broken leg, abdominal puncture in 850—he’d managed to pull through each time. The nurses said he was in peak physical condition.

There was the tattoo inscribed into Mikasa's wrist she always kept covered. Tiny nicks in Armin's fingers from repeated ODM gear maintenance, a shallow cut down his palm—the slip of a knife during kitchen duty. Bruises in the shape of their ODM harnesses.

His body remained uncalloused, difficult to bruise. He’d catch his gaze in the mirror and swear they weren’t always so grey. When he looked at his hands, his body, his mind supplied an impression of pain without proof.

Private Jaeger had the luck of the Devil, they’d said. Eren grinned and went along with it. But it wasn’t some miracle, nor an aspect of his personality he'd choose to define himself—if you’d asked him, he’d say he was no thrill-seeker, just doing whatever was required to become adept with the ODM gear. The sooner he mastered it, the faster he could get onto the front lines and start eradicating Titans.

Mikasa's explanations were too technical, but she was friends with Bertholdt and Reiner and top of the class. She could keep up with them, but she chose to handicap herself by sticking to his side. Even when he made it very clear she didn’t have to, and that he didn’t want to be responsible for her in such a way. If she wanted to join the Legion or the Garrison, she could decide for herself. Just because his mother said to keep an eye on him, he’d think, it doesn’t mean you’re indebted to me.

He’d been reliving the same nightmare ever since leaving Shiganshina. Contrary to what other cadets assumed, it was never about the day itself. His mother’s body, thrashing. She screamed for a while, until the Titan squeezed its grip and her body twisted in on itself. She couldn’t scream anymore, just twitched feebly. His imagination filled in the blanks his emotions refused to accept. There wasn’t much to see at a distance, Mister Hannes’s pace, the cobblestones.

He could go over it, in his mind, but these associations never bled into his dreams. Mikasa and Armin, and the others, they’d just assume as long as he kept his mouth shut. It was easier to explain, under the guise of Titan-loathing mania. Why wouldn’t he dream about his mother’s last moments?

The dissonance used to eat away at him, whenever he wasn’t occupied. Throwing himself into farmwork, training exercises, unarmed combat with anyone willing to scrap, getting thrown around by Leonhardt, a couple snarling matches with Kirschtein. Drinking with the other cadets didn’t stop it so much as heighten his own awareness of his lack—the weight of the key on his breast was an anchor.

⁂

The day Eren's father took him to the basement, Mikasa was running an errand with his mother. It wasn't often Eren got to spend time with his father outside of a work-related context. The basement was where he worked, and he didn’t like to be disturbed.

His father bade him to sit. "This is a perfectly safe procedure. You will enter into a state of increased relaxation and focus, but you will be in control the entire time."

Eren shrugged.

His father pulled out a syringe and rolled up his sleeve. It pricked a bit, but his father was calm throughout the whole process. Eren followed the sound of his voice. That wasn’t so bad.

“Do you feel any different?”

“No, sir.” Eren figured they should probably go back upstairs. Mikasa and his mother would be home soon. His father stared at the desk for a long time. “What was the shot for?”

His father seemed to startle. A slight shift of his shoulders. “For your health. You’re the right age for it.”

His father had no reason to lie.

That evening, Eren turned up feverish. A foul taste lingered in his mouth, like iron and salt. His mother prepared dinner, and the smell of the meat made him want to throw up. He hadn’t meant to. He tried to apologise but all he could taste was iron and salt. It was affecting his sense of smell, or wasn’t it the other way around? He was trembling and blanching, but when he tried to explain he’d just retch again.

His father kept him bedridden and insisted he have no visitors. He said it was stomach flu, but that didn’t make sense to Eren. This blood taste didn’t make sense either. His teeth were fine, no open wounds inside his mouth. He could drink water without vomiting. “Dad,” he rasped, “I think—”

“You’re exhausted,” his father said, in a polite tone he only used with patients that were being unreasonable. “You need sleep.”

That week, his father stayed home and worked in the basement. Eren would listen to the sound of passing horse carts and pedestrians. Mikasa would talk to him about her day, or lay another wet cloth on his brow.

“You’re really feverish,” she said. “I should tell Mr. Jaeger.”

Eren reached for her wrist. “It’s all right,” he said. “I'm feeling better than I was.” He smiled, even though all the muscles in his body were on fire. It didn’t seem to reassure her.

“I’ll just let him know.”

“Mikasa, just wait until he comes upstairs.”

Mikasa held his gaze. “Why?”

Eren frowned. “He doesn’t like to be interrupted when he’s working.”

Mikasa was still looking at him.

His parents’ hushed voices, as though he could sleep with midday sunlight pouring through the window.

After a few days, Eren was up and walking again. The metallic aftertaste was still there, just dulled.

The door, usually locked, was open. The food Mikasa left the night before was congealed to the plate. When his father was busy, he could go hours without eating.

He was looking over at the desk, a strange and uncomfortable silence lingered.

“You should be in bed,” he began. It was a strange tone, as if he’d been caught unawares. 

“Sorry, sir. Mikasa wanted to know if you were all right.”

“I’m fine. Just lost track of time.” He readjusted his glasses. “You’re feeling better, I take it?”

“Yes, sir.” Eren couldn’t help it. “Honestly, I feel well enough to go into town with Mikasa.”

“That's precisely why you need to rest,” his father said coolly. “Give it a few more days.”

Surely, his father would’ve locked the door if it were so important. If Eren was contagious, he’d have said as much from the beginning. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just that Mikasa didn’t get sick. Nor did you, or mother—so I guessed it wasn’t as serious as it seemed.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” his father snapped. “Armin’s family has enough problems without worrying about his health. You were just throwing up, for God’s sake.”

Eren glanced at the food. He went to take it.

“Leave it,” his father said. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

“You lied to mum about the food. It wasn’t spoiled.”

His father’s laugh was an ugly thing. A rictus grin, as he said, very quietly, “What exactly are you implying? That I’m trying to poison you and your mother?”

Mikasa was upstairs, asleep. There wasn’t anything Eren could say that would assuage this situation. Stupidly, he said, “You’re not making any sense.”

His father grabbed the plate and threw it. It would’ve hit Eren upside the head if his father’s aim hadn’t wavered. Eren flinched as it hit the wall.

“What the hell are you looking at?” he snapped. “I said I’d take care of it, didn’t I?”

The silence was suffocating as Eren rounded up the stairs. Stalking outside, he’d gone for a lap, his skin tingling and feverish, but he didn’t feel anything close to fatigue. He could’ve done several rounds around the neighborhood, but he didn't want to alarm his mother or Mikasa by staying out too long. 

He sat on the riverbank and hurled rocks across the water's surface until he felt a little less like punching something. He took off his shoes and let his feet slip into the water. Up to his ankles, he watched the water steam around his ankles. If he stayed here long enough, he could evaporate all the water in Shiganshina, but his mother would worry and it was a stupid thing to dream anyway.

“Your mother and I wanted to be sure you were all right.”

Eren bristled. "Fine. Feeling better."

His mother excused herself.

“Did you tell that to Mikasa?” Eren spat. “You scared the hell out of her.”

His father blinked. “No, son. I wasn’t angry at her, or you. I’ve been under a tremendous pressure, with work. But that’s no excuse for how I acted this morning.”

Eren set his jaw.

“I just want you to know,” his father said, “that I’m sorry.”

"OK," Eren said. "I believe you."

His father's smile didn't reach his eyes.

⁂

Staring at the underside of the bunk, Eren tasted iron and salt. His eyes were wet, but he could not place a reason.

At the far end of the barracks, Bertholdt was reciting something under his breath. Eren couldn't make out the words, but he laid still, grounding himself in the cadence until his breathing relaxed.

⁂

His first deployment was over before he had the chance to offer more than a few words of courage to his fellow trainees. Defending the Wall from an inevitable breach. Fifteen and bleeding out on the hot rooftop. The damned Titan that ripped his leg was crawling around.

He’d been shouting at Private Kirschtein, stuffing down his own emotions. Kirschtein, if he survived, would just go to Sina anyway. They’d never speak to each other, or get along out of anything other than necessity.

Anyone would be terrified. Eren shoved down his fear and let it expel as authority. He wasn’t any less afraid, just never gave himself into the luxury of that realization. His allies, half-eaten and screaming for help. The best he could do was lie there, leg serrated and pulsing hot blood onto the roof.

Tiles grinding against bare flesh of his knee as he pushed himself up on what was left. The chinos torn and saturated with blood. Bare muscle met tile but he couldn’t feel much beyond the blood pumping from the open wound.

The leg the Titan chewed off felt heavier than it should. His equilibrium was askew. A dull phantom pain shot up the leg he’d lost. He bent double, unable to accept what his sight was telling him. Bones sprouting out of torn flesh, sheathed in sinew and hemic tissue. The flesh wrapped around the newly formed appendage, raw and pink.

He stared at his naked leg, covered in blood and viscera, as if he’d shoved it inside a cow’s stomach. The skin was raw and flaky around the shape of the bite, chinos torn to match.

High pitched scream cut through the confusion. Eren forced himself to crouch unevenly. He was fortunate the Titan had only eaten away the calf. If he could line up with the building he could shoot across and vault over it.

Racing against time. His own body sluggish. He'd lost a lot of blood, running purely on adrenaline.

"You can't die," Eren shouted. "You and I still have to see what's on the other side of Wall Maria."

Armin looked down at where the leg shouldn’t’ve been. He opened his mouth to say something but the Titan’s jaws closed around Eren leaving only the impression of an anguished scream and his own pounding heart.

Falling into darkness.

Impact with liquid, submerged.

Iron and acid in the back of his throat.

Breaking the surface. Hot, rank air sucked into his burning lungs.

Thick smell of pine and cigarettes overtaken by sweeter stink of rot.

Through the haze of pain the small metal shape dug into his breast, burning an imprint into skin. He could keep himself afloat. He’d been swimming in the river by his house since he was little.

Up to his ankles, his skin steamed against the river's current.

Armin was up there.

His left arm from the elbow down had already reformed itself, the skin raw. Bone and muscle where he'd torn the new-grown flesh of his fingers.

"Do you wish to save them, Armin and Mikasa?"

Naked shin bumped against the carrion beside him. The bottom of the Titan’s stomach, or simply the mass of bodies that came before him, indistinguishable. Titans couldn’t digest what they ate, so they’d just excrete the excess and continue. He'd have to cut his way out. Without his blades, that was close to impossible.

Clawing for purchase on the nearest body in-uniform. The ODM canister snagged on one of the bodies, weighing him down. He fumbled with the belt, already corroded by acid, crumbling apart. Drawing the blade from its scabbard, he plunged it into the slick impenetrable surface above him. Up to the hilt, dragging down with all of his strength. The hilt came back, blade snapped off partway within the holster. Blades were built to slash and discard.

He drove it forwards, blind, stabbing into the same slick meat as if the situation would change. An unrecognizable scream tore from his throat. The hairs on his arms and legs stood up. A flash of light from inside himself, the skin on his regrown fingers torn where he’d clawed over so many fallen comrades.

Syringe piercing flesh. 

A trembulous embrace. Tears stained the boy's cheek.

The body he called up from will alone tore apart its confines. Tall as the clocktower itself, a miasma of blood inhaled and exhumed.

The ones who stumbled around like drunken men, unable to recall themselves. Shambling around the narrow streets in search of prey. Dispatching them was simple when they didn’t have the will to fight back. More clustered in the square, encumbered by their own hunger.

Tiny figures vaulted across rooftops, shouting to each other. Significance of their words fell away from his original imperative.

"You must master this power."

⁂

He’d surely wake up to his final moments on a stretcher, all of his hopes dashed to pieces along with his comrades and missing limbs. Awash in a morphine haze.

Instead, his eyes fell to the darkened ceiling. Three stone walls, a hard mattress beneath him and fresh sheets. Manacles at either wrist. On the opposide side of the iron bars, two guards silhouetted in the torchlight. Now that Eren was looking, they weren’t much older than him.

“Hey,” he said. “Where am I? Where’s Armin?”

“Be quiet,” the first MP said, a fair-haired boy of average height. “Commander Irvin’s requested an audience with you.”

Eren froze. “Commander Irvin?” His brain finally kicked back into gear.

I was in the Titan's stomach, and then—Armin. I heard his voice.

A twinge in his shoulder.

Armin was there. Mikasa, too. They must be alive, still. "Where's Mikasa?" 

“I said quiet,” the boy snapped. “You’re lucky enough to be in a cell and not in front of a firing squad, Titan.”

“Feulner,” said the MP on his right, lanky and dark-haired, “leave him alone.”

Was the mission a success? Are Armin and the others still alive? What's the last thing I remember?

Why are they so afraid of me?

"Did—did they survive? Armin and Mikasa?"

"Yeah," the soldier on the right said. "They're safe. A few others didn't make it. You'll be briefed once the tribunal is over."

Tribunal? What the hell did I do? Where's—

He couldn't move his arms. But the lack of the weight against his breast was tangible. A rising panic clenched his insides.

"The key," he blurted. "Where is it?"

Feulner looked at Freudenberg as if to say, what the hell is he talking about?

"Your personal belongings were collected after you were retrieved from the Titan's body," said Freudenberg carefully. "If you cooperate, you'll receive it and anything else that was on your person."

Eren slumped back against the bed. Bare feet planted on the stone. "You're telling me the truth?"

"Yes."

Feulner scoffed. "He's out of his mind."

"Shut up, Feulner," Freudenberg snapped. "The tribunal will decide what his fate will be." He glanced at Eren. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Eren glanced at his manacled hands. "I was in the Titan's stomach. Then—I did what had to be done, for the sake of my comrades."

Freudenberg averted his eyes first. "All right, Jaeger. I believe you."

[eviesos]

what about a luke injury during the Hughes bowl

whoo, talk about inspiration striking! almost 1,000 words written and edited in about an hour, so apologies for any typos/grammar errors. thanks for the prompt anon, hope you like the result!

fic below the read more or here on AO3!

Jack's seeing red.

Luke is no longer on the bench with them because he just went down the tunnel. Despite this fact, all Jack can see when he looks at the ice right now is the crumpled form of his younger brother.

The worst thing is that it wasn't even a dirty hit. A good, clean hit against the boards. The Canucks player couldn't have known Luke's leg would twist that way, resulting in a sickening crunch that Jack swears he could hear over the raucous noise of the Vancouver crowd. Jack has no one to blame, not even himself.

Despite the fact that there's no blame to be dealt, Jack is still seeing red. Because that's his little brother. He's not allowed to get hurt, not on Jack's watch. And sure, Jack knows that's not something he can control, but he'll be damned if he isn't going to try his best.

He doesn't even get to know how Luke is doing. He can't just go down the tunnel with him, no matter how much he might want to. His heart is screaming at him to move, check in on him! but his mind keeps him seated on the bench, waiting for his cue to hop on the ice and show them just what happens when you mess with a Hughes. Not hitting, not fights, just a renewed dedication to win the game.

Jack grits his teeth, adjusts his helmet, and zeroes back in on the game. He doesn't try to put Luke (or his injury) out of his mind, because he knows that won't work. He keeps Luke at the forefront of his mind and lets that motivate him.

---

The game has ended and — after quickly looking into the dressing room to check that Luke isn't there and then taking off his gear at record speeds — Jack makes a beeline towards the visitor’s trainer's room. Before he'd left, he'd turned to Nico to ask if he could check on Luke. Nico had taken one look at his face and waved him away without a word.

He's still in the clothes he wears under his pads, sweaty from the game, when he pushes the door to the trainer's room open. There, he sees Luke sitting up on the bed, his legs stretched out before him. The left one, which had twisted at such an unnatural angle, has a brace wrapped around the knee, keeping him from moving the leg in ways he shouldn't.

Luke, who had been looking bored out of his mind with staring at the ceiling as his only form of entertainment, instantly looks in Jack's direction as he makes his way towards the bed.

“Hey, Jacky.” Luke says tiredly, the exertion of the game, the adrenaline crash after the injury, and the meds in his system doing a number on him.

“How you doing, Lukey?” You had me so fucking worried, he doesn't say, how do I help? he wants to ask but doesn't. He knows from personal experience it won't go over well.

Luke shrugs and starts to answer, but doesn't get the chance before being interrupted by Quinn's entrance. Quinn's eyes flash from one younger brother to the next, settling on the youngest with a worried look.

“Before you ask, Quinny, I'm doing okay.” Luke looks faintly amused by their worry, as he always does. He's always a little bit in awe that these two care about him so much that they will drop everything as soon as they can to check up on him. It never ceases to amaze him. “They've got me on the good stuff.” He cracks a smile as he tries to lighten the mood, which had become tense once Jack entered and only gotten worse with Quinn's appearance.

It does the trick. Jack shoots back one of his own signature grins, ruffling Luke's hair while Luke complains and tries to get away without aggravating his bad leg too much. Of course, he is completely unsuccessful being confined to the bed as he is, but it's worth it to see his older brothers’ shoulders lower just a tad from where they'd been hiked up around their shoulders.

Quinn is still a little more subdued than both of his brothers, but that's nothing new, really. Luke and especially Jack have always been the more exuberant of the three. To Luke, it's still obvious how the worry in his eyes lessens and the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. He comes closer to the bed to lay a hand on Luke's good ankle, jostling it softly, carefully, making sure he won't accidentally hurt Luke.

“I'm glad you're not too banged up, Lukey. Can't have you missing out on the next Hughes Bowl.” Quinn says with a small grin, causing both Jack and Luke to laugh. They stay like that for a while, Quinn and Jack filling Luke in on the remainder of the game, poking fun at each other all the while.

Luke wishes he hadn't been injured at all, and he's not looking forward to recovery, but he doesn't mind it as much if he gets to have his two favorite people in the same room, talking his ears off about anything and everything.

And if Luke starts drifting off to the sound of his brothers' familiar voices, well then nobody needs to know about that.

(They also don't need to know about the way their voices lower once they realize he has fallen asleep, taking turns running a hand through his hair every once in a while to keep it out of his face. No other reason, of course.)

[lesbianwithchainsaws]

Sorry to vent post again, but things have been so weird lately and I feel like I need to get some of this out.

I've been feeling kinda awful the past few weeks already, but the past few days it feels like it's gotten worse. I feel like I haven't had proper interaction with anyone for weeks and I think that's really getting to me. Especially as there have been events where I know I could go to and maybe meet new people, but I get so anxious every time so I don't go. Having a job is also proving to be really difficult, even though it overall isn't a job that is that difficult (it's a lot more fitting for me, as I can work from home and don't have to interact with customers), but doing this 5 days a week is killing me. And when I don't have to work, other things just don't feel as enjoyable lately. Like I enjoy writing and making edits and talking about blorbos, but for some reason all of that has been feeling a bit empty? I'm not sure how else to describe it. It's not like I don't enjoy it at all, I swear I do, but especially the past few days, it's just been feeling weird. Maybe less enjoyable. I think maybe in a way I'm hoping me posting these things will get me some human interaction, which I've barely had lately? And that's not a good reason to be making something. I should do it because I enjoy it, not because I want someone to tell me something about it. And people have been very nice and talking to me, so it's not a problem with anyone else. It's a problem with me, I've been feeling lonely and lost in life for almost my entire life and for a brief period I didn't feel as bad because I could make and post things about things I like, but lately it hasn't been as fun. So I guess a part of me was relying a bit too much on that, and now it doesn't feel as great? I don't know. I'm really sorry about that.

I've tried to reach out to some of my irl friends and I'll probably talk to some of them later today, also I'm meeting up with a friend next week and hopefully that will make things better.

In the meantime, maybe I might post a bit less for a while? There are still things I want to write and make, and I'll definitely do that, but I might have to try to do that thing where I step away from social media for a bit. I know it's not really that important and maybe no one cares, but yeah, might be a bit less active for a little bit. I just don't want to feel as awful, nor do I want to be sad-posting a bunch. I don't know, there's not much of a point to this and I doubt people care about this stuff, but I need to get these feelings out

[longhands-the-second]

Trimax vol. 5

This is a solid 30% “what will they do with this in Stampede?”

1- “this time of year”… what are seasons like there? Are they distinct at all???

OH. YIKES. JULY. I was wondering why we were starting here.

God, I hate to think of how many people Vash has lost over the years.

For him to openly weep is heartbreaking, knowing how often he just shuts down instead.

Im fucking stoked to see what they do with midvalley in stampede, if anything.

Meryl is leaving this whole thing fundamentally changed i think. Just a hunch.

2- This is maybe a little unclear? I see the vision though.

I fucking love manga milly you go girl

GOD DAMN IT VASH he keeps getting hit and it makes me sad

Ballerina wolfwood

Am. Am i gonna start simping for wolfwood now? Is this how it happens?

3- oh. Oh boy. That sure is a title page

I’m still so mad they stole ww’s nose in stampede. It’s so pretty.

Wolfwood being protective of people. That is all. :)

OH OH OH ITS HAPPENING EVERYBODY STAY CALM STAY FUCKING CALM

This is the first time that we’ve seen this w/o Knives’ direct involvement- is this something that just happens when he’s at his wit’s end? Has it happened before? (Is it just compounding recent events???)

Bevridge Bitch is here and his vibes are as rancid as ever

How recent was July? He has most of the same scars.

Man they really just took the sleeve off of his coat. Worst thing that happens here, surely (<- coping)

Nvm the sleeve magically reappeared.

Girl seriously though what the *Fuck*

Could he just not do it before? Is this knives doing it *for* him???

“Seeds”?

Oh no. Oh this is even worse than last time. Ick.

Somehow this is more explicitly uh. Y’know.

EW EW EW EW

Dude phrase that literally any other fucking wayyyyyy I’m screaming crying throwing myself out of the window

Vash didn’t answer. I think this is the only iteration that wouldn’t. Then again that might be entirely circumstantial.

DAMN.

4- I took a week long break after the last chapter. I WAS ahead but uh. Stuff and things. So i may have some rereading to do.

SO WAIT HOLD ON DOES TOUCHING THE FEATHERS LET YOU SEE HIS MEMORIES AND SHIT?

I wonder if wolfwood’s gotten his sight back? Is that gonna be recurring or was it just a brief thing?

God this is so fucked up. Poor Meryl is probably losing it

Midvalley continues to fascinate me. What he’s saying makes sense but like. Damn.

Oh fucking god damn it get this guy out of here i don’t want him

What the hell am i even looking at right now

LEGATO YOU BASTARD

5- i hate to say it but i was kind of rooting for midvalley? I wanted to see more of him at least. Fuckin brutal way to go.

Oh is this why zazie is like. Extra androgynous in stampede? Fully support this actually.

I don’t think any character gets under my skin the way legato does. Knives is a close second, but there’s just something about the type of cruelty he exhibits. It’s not quick or to the point. He lets that shit simmer on purpose. It’s not about power anymore, it’s about maximum suffering. For himself, too. It’s gross.

MERYL!!!!

Legato sticks his leggy out real far. Fr though those are spindly as all hell

I’m not sure how much of the angel arm use is Vash making a conscious decision? Guess we’ll find out later. (EDIT: or not damn. He’s so quiet about it.)

Ah. Elendira. Will i love you or hate you?

6- i swear i can feel the panic coming off of the page here

I wonder how much more shit happened with knives that we just haven’t seen yet. How much of it does Vash remember?

Is this happening in his head right now? Is that why his arm is extra fucked up?

I find myself wondering at this moment if the original japanese was more or less derogatory about elendira and tbh i’m just gonna stop thinking about it now.

I can already tell im gonna be obsessed with her dynamic with knives though. They both seem so over it in a way that i can only describe as “the only two queer people working at the McDonald’s.” This is in no way related to any personal experiences i may have had, pinky promise. (Me and that manager were like. Work besties.)

She’s so fucked up i love her already.

UGH UGH UGH BE NICE TO HIM DAMN IT.

EXPLAIN YOURSELF TO THEM MAN. (He’s not obligated to but holy shit do you know how much that had to fuck Meryl up?)

Yeah, i see where the japanese Rem headcanon comes from. The vibes are there.

End notes (semi related to the actual content):

- I am DYING to know how they’ll deal with the Earth ships. Can’t just start that plot thread and just destroy them. I mean, it could happen, but like. Why?

- Forever yelling about biblically accurate Vash. I’ll draw him at some point given the time and energy. I REALLY want to know how/if they’ll handle it in stampede- we sort of got it, sort of didn’t? I’d love to see that pushed further.

- I WILL FINALLY POST ANOTHER GOD DAMN COLORING THIS WEEK. It took me a full month so it’s from an earlier volume but i’m very excited to share! It *should* be done by Friday (questionable way to celebrate given the content) ((maybe I’ll post vash in the babygirl pose as a treat)).

- I got my silly little wwvd bracelet and wore it with my Vash cosplay this last weekend. It genuinely makes me smile every time i see it lol. Real mood booster through con crunch, too. (Also, shoutout to the vash cosplayers at akaicon who definitely won’t see this lol. I almost asked them if they were in on the bookclub based on conversations we had but I chickened out.)

[boqvistsbabe]

Different Skates: Cale AU - Pt. 2

A/N: Okay, so a couple of things: 1.) I know this wasn’t super anticipated but still I apologize that this took so long to write (I started it the day after I posted the first part, that was in Oct), 2.) it’s Thanksgiving themed and I’m very aware that it is way past that but I didn’t want to have to go back and change a bunch of stuff, 3.) there’s supposed to be a couple more parts and with how I have it planned out other already passed holidays will be in them, 4.) this is very unedited and I’m sorry if it’s choppy like i said it’s been written over multiple months which is very not me (normally i write everything in one sitting), 5.) I hope y’all like it!

Once again thanks to that irl friend for the peer pressure and for the much asked for peer pressure from @typical-simplelove and to @savoies for being my soundboard

Warnings: swear words, she/her pronouns for the reader, if I missed anything let me know!

Word count: 4,402 💀

—————-

“Okay great practice today guys. Go home and rest up, don’t forget tomorrow night at my house, team dinner. Be there by seven and please dress decent for pictures.” Charlie was just finishing up as you walked out of the break room you used to edit in.

Tomorrow night was Thanksgiving dinner with the whole team. So tonight you get to help cook everything that can be cooked ahead of time. Charlie was helping too, but only with the stuff that doesn’t require the stove or oven. He complains every time we don’t let him use them, but in our defence he almost burned the house down. He’s not allowed to have candles either. He’s mostly gonna help our dad put up tables and chairs; after they move the furniture and clean the living room.

The boys are so loud in the locker room that you can hear them all the way out here in the lobby. You're doing some last minute touch ups to some game shots before posting them to the team Instagram while you wait for Charlie. You hear footsteps approaching and look up. It’s Cale. He looks over just as you look up.

“Hey Y/n, how are you?” He asks with a smile.

“I’m okay, you?” You’ve decided to be civil with him since he’s been nice to you so far.

“I’m pretty good, excited for a couple days off to rest.”

“Yeah that’s fair.” You don’t really know what to say after that so you just kind of sit there.

“Hey Caler, you still coming over tonight to help move stuff?” Charlie looks at Cale as he walks up beside him. Also what? You knew nothing about this.

“Yeah of course. Just gotta go home to drop my stuff off then I’ll head your way.” His eyes flick from you to your brother and then back again.

“Awesome, thanks dude. I’m not sure Pops can help move the furniture anymore, even if he thinks he can.” Charlie’s not wrong. Your dad has had some issues with arthritis for a long time but it’s gotten a lot worse in the last year. You just had figured you’d help this time around.

“Yeah not a problem. I’m gonna head out now, but I’ll see y’all in a bit.” He gives you a little

wave before heading to the parking lot.

“You warming up to him yet?” Charlie asks as you head to his car,” “he’s a really nice guy.”

“I know, he’s alright. I thought I was helping you tonight?”

“That was the plan, but I was talking to him about tomorrow and mentioned Pops not being able to move stuff anymore and he offered to help.” Charlie shrugs as he turns the key.

———————-

You were elbow deep in the turkey (literally) when the doorbell rang. Your mom yelled for Charlie to get the door. His footsteps thundered down the stairs as he ran to let Cale in.

This turkey was the most annoying thing to deal with, and you still had a second one to go. Your mom loves to go all out for the team dinners, especially since she knows not all of the guys have family that does. This year she decided to let you deal with the turkeys instead of the sides. Which fair but you were more of a dessert kind of gal. You didn’t mind doing the turkey, you know it’s your mom’s way of passing the torch; but you’d rather be making pies and cookies right now. Your mom just insists on plucking and dressing and all of that ourselves instead of just getting a frozen one, why you have no idea but it’s a pain in your ass right now.

“Hey Ma, Cale and I are gonna move furniture so we can set up the tables!” Charlie yelled before disappearing into the living room.

“Alright just be careful!” She yelled back before turning to the doorway, “ Hi Cale, how are you sweetie?”

“Great Mrs. Y/LN, you?” When you looked up he was standing just outside the kitchen door, he caught your eye and smiled. Giving him a small smile you looked back to the turkey you were violating. Gosh this is going to take forever. You blow a piece of hair out of your face before it gets totally in your view.

“I know told you to call me Melissa, and I’m fine dear. You better run off and help Charlie before he decides he can move that heavy furniture by himself.”

“I’m on it, don't worry.” Is the last thing he says before he disappears into the living room.

“He’s such a sweet boy. Your father wasn’t happy about us deciding he wasn’t helping but we compromised with him being able to “supervise” whatever that hell that means.” She shook her head before walking to the over to pull out two of the pies.

There is so much food that we still have to cook, you were just glad that your mom has it figured out perfectly. You’re still gonna be up a couple more hours but there’s enough to do you won’t even realize.

——————-

The boys are watching a game in the living room. The only reason you can tell is cause of the yelling. They finished setting up all the tables and chairs an hour ago. Both turkeys are ready to be cooked and the only thing left to do tonight is clean up and set stuff out for tomorrow morning. Thank goodness, you felt like you could take a nap right there on the kitchen island. You’ve had a long day between editing, two practices (both dance and skating) the gym, and some schoolwork plus cooking; you were ready to curl up in bed and sleep the night away.

“Okay we’ll take a quick break then clean up. Everything we need for tomorrow should be set out so that we don’t have to worry about it. All the desserts are in the fridge or are covered and on the counter. The only thing for tomorrow is the sides and setting out places. Good work kiddo. The turkeys look great.”

“Thanks Ma, pies look good too. Can’t wait to dig in tomorrow.” Dessert was by far your favourite part of the holidays. Best food group in your opinion.

You both plopped down on the stools at the island. Grabbing the remote from the counter, you turn the tv on to some Christmas movie. It was one of your mom's favourites so you turned the volume up so she could hear it better. Not even five minutes in you heard the boys head towards the kitchen. Charlie no doubt on his way to steal a cookie or six.

“Really?! Christmas movies already? It’s not even Thanksgiving?!”

“Hush Charles, you know Christmas starts on the first in this family.” This argument has been going on between your mom and Charlie since he was ten. You and your pops stayed out of it.

“Christmas starts in October for my family.” You look over to Cale, who’s leaning against the island right next to you.

“Bro what? That’s even more crazy than my mom.” Charlie was gobsmacked.l, “What about Halloween?!”

“Oh yeah we decorate for that too, but the movies and music start then.”

“Dude there is something so wrong with you people.” Charlie shakes his head before sneaking towards the counter by the fridge. Where the desserts were set.

“Charlie, you leave the food alone or you will be cleaning the whole kitchen tonight.” Mom says without looking from the TV.

“Fine.” He heads back to the living room where your dad was still watching the game.

“I can help clean up tonight.” You looked back to Cale after he said that.

“You don’t need to do that, me and Y/n have got it, we just needed to rest a bit. Plus you’ve done enough.”

“Please Melissa, I insist. You’ve done so much for the team, it’s only fair at least one of us helps.”

“Fine, but Y/n will help. You don’t know where everything goes and she won’t mind.” Your mom gets up to head to the living room, stopping to kiss the top of your head and pat Cale’s arm as she walks by.

A little bit of an assumption there mother but okay. You didn’t really mind honestly, it wasn’t fair the Cale was cleaning up in someone else’s house. Even if he insisted.

“You don’t actually have to help, you’ve done a lot today too. Just tell me where stuff goes and I’ll put it there.” Cale is now looking down at where you’re still sat on the stool.

“It’s not fair that you’re cleaning up our mess, I’ll help. I’m not even that tired.” You stand up from the stool and move over to the sink. You let out a big yawn before making eye contact with Cale. He’s trying not to smile.

“You sure about that?” He’s totally smiling now. And you’re a little surprised to find that you’re smiling back.

“Okay maybe I am tired, but I still should help.”

“Yes, you can help by telling me what to do. All I have to do is do it. Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“That is the cheesiest thing you could’ve said, but fine you win. This time.” You hop up on the counter.

“Okay where should I start?” Cale turns to look at you expectantly.

“Hmmm dishwasher would probably be best.” Was your reply.

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

“Okay now that all that is done, what’s next?” Cale looks at you again. Those pretty blue eyes meeting your own. He tilts his head a little. That’s when you realised that you were kind of starring.

“Oh yeah! That’s it, I don’t think we have anything else to do tonight. Everything else we have to do in the morning. So you can go hang out with Charlie. I think he’s still in the other room watching the game. Thanks for all your help today.” You hopped off the counter and walked to where he was standing by the island.

“Okay, I actually think I’m gonna head out. I can come help out in the morning. I’m not the best cook but I think I can handle it.” He’s giving you a half smile and between the Christmas music from the movie still playing and the low lighting in the kitchen; he looks entirely too attractive right now.

“You don’t need to do that. You’ve done a lot already.”

“Ah no it’s fine. I got nothin else to do.”

“Alright. I’ll see you in the morning then. We’re gonna start at about eight since dinner is gonna be at noon. Just come over whenever after that.”

“I’ll be here at eight then. See you in the morning Y/N.” He gives you a nod and a smile before heading to the front door. You hear him stop and say goodnight to your family before the front door shuts.

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

You’re totally dragging. It’s too early to do this. Not even changing out of your pajamas, you head downstairs. There’s already a mix of smells happening. Your mom must have put the turkeys in early.

Walking into the kitchen you slowly register everything going on. Your mom is checking the turkeys in the oven, your dad is drinking coffee and reading the paper from last week at the island, there’s a Christmas movie playing and Charlie is nowhere to be found. Figures.

Twenty minutes later, you’re slightly more awake, breakfast has been eaten, you’ve started helping with the sides, and Charlie’s just now walking through the kitchen door. And Cale is right behind him.

“Morning loser,” Charlie says as he bumps you into the counter where you were chopping potatoes.

“Charlie, stop messing with your sister. She’s helping me, unlike you.” She gives him a pointed look as he heads back to where Cale is standing, “ morning Cale, how are you?”

“I’m okay, would be better if my truck had started this morning.” Ah so that’s why Charlie was gone.

“Ah yeah Charlie said that’s what happened. Will you be able to figure out what it was?”

You tune out their conversation and continue with your task.

~~~~~~~~

Cale’s POV

When I walked into the kitchen I was not expecting to see a very tired and annoyed looking Y/N. Who definitely just got more annoyed when Charlie bumped her into the counter. Who’s still in her pjs. That have reindeer all over them.

She’s so freaking adorable.

Yesterday I felt like we might’ve gotten a little closer to that friend line. She laughed at most of my horrible jokes when I was cleaning up the kitchen last night. Honestly I cut it pretty close to my curfew. I probably shouldn’t’ve stayed, but Melissa looked tired and as much as I could hope Charlie would’ve helped clean up; I know better than that. So I stayed way later than I should’ve and had to rush home.

Shaking my head I answer Melissa’s questions about my truck. It wouldn’t start this morning. Charlie and I both think between how old it is and the cold front that moved in last night, that my truck might not be starting for a while. He offered to take me to practice and school, so that helps at least.

~~~~~~~~

A couple hours later your mom is at the door welcoming all of the boys in. Between Charlie and Cale helping you and your mom, everything got done so you had extra time to get ready and hide in your room for a bit. At least you can wear something comfy. You have to look nice for pictures so you grabbed a sweater to go with your leggings.

The boys were all really loud and you were kind of over it already. Your mom wanted you downstairs at least. She understood why you didn’t exactly want to be around them. So you were sitting on the kitchen counter; reading a book. The only guys that had sought you out to greet you were John and Tyson. They both gave you a hug and asked how you were before joining the rest of the team in the living room.

You were about halfway through your book when somebody hopped up across from you on the island. Looking up you realise it’s Cale.

“Why are you in here?” It came out a little harsh but he didn’t seem bothered by it.

“They’re getting really loud and I get headaches easily.” Cale shrugs, “I can find somewhere else to hang out if you want me to.”

“No you’re fine, I was just wondering. Why do you get headaches easily?”

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

Cale’s POV

When she asked why I was in here I panicked a little. I mean I was mostly in here for the quiet, but also kind of to see her. I don’t even know why. I think she’s just nice to be around. Especially compared to the guys.

“Oh, it’s cause of all of the concussions I’ve gotten in the past.”

“Hmm” that’s all she gives me before going back to her phone.

I feel kind of awkward just looking at her. I’d love to ignore the world and be in my phone, but it’s almost dead, plus it would make my headache worse. It’s quiet in here, not awkward but almost… comforting. Honestly it’s kind of nice. I end up looking out the window above the sink. My eyes catching on the snow flurries outside.

“It’s snowing.”

Y/N looks up from her phone before setting it down on the counter and jumping down. Walking over to the sink, she stares outside.

“I love the snow. It’s so pretty and peaceful.” She sounds wistful as she says it.

I have to fight myself from saying she is too, “Me too, winter is my favorite season because of it.”

“Same here.” She turns around and meets my eyes, “this is off topic but if I’m going to be completely honest would rather be skating than here right now.”

“Well if I had to be completely honest, I’d say the same. Why do you not want to be here?” I have a feeling I know what her answer is going to be.

“I assume Charlie told you all about what happened, I’m also going to assume you’re smart enough to connect those dots,” I nod and she shrugs, “honestly you don’t seem all that bad. I know I came off harsh, Charlie told me all about that. I’m sorry. I am trying to be nicer, especially since you don’t act like an asshole like the rest of them. Just know that, that doesn’t mean we’re friends, just that you’re not a total jerk. Anyways, why don’t you want to be here?”

Her statement relieves me. I’m glad I don’t come across like an asshole. I didn't think I did, but it’s always nice to hear. Especially from someone as biassed as her.

“Well mine’s kind of similar, I don’t really want to hang out with the guys. I Know it’s good for camaraderie and whatever, but they annoy the hell out of me. And they all are in fact a bunch of assholes. Even to teammates. Plus skating is so much more fun than sitting here doing nothing.”

That got a smile out of her. She turned back to the window.

~~~~~~~~~

“Dinner was good as always ma, thanks for inviting the team.” A chorus of the rest of them following Charlie’s thanks.

I ended up seated between Cale and Charlie. I think they did that on purpose. Especially since John and Tyson were across from me too. They totally surrounded me so I didn’t have to sit next to the jerks. I’m totally grateful but I wanna be anywhere but here. I lean over to Charlie.

“Hey you going anywhere later?”

“I’ll probably go hang with the guys but Tys will drive.”

“Okay, I’ll have the car then.” Charlie nods before continuing his conversation.

Now I have to figure out a plan to dip after pictures so I can get to the rink.

~~~~~~~

Cale’s POV

It’s picture time. And nothing against Melissa, but she has no control over any of this. She’s currently standing behind the camera and trying to get us lined up so we all fit. It’s not going well, Charlie is nowhere to be found and Y/N looks like she’d rather be anywhere else. Can’t blame her, I’m feeling the same way.

“Hey hey everyone chill out and listen.” There’s Charlie. I can hear him but I can’t see him. He’s still shouting orders when I look back over to Y/N. She sees me, rolls her eyes and shakes her head. Then she walks towards the couch, and steps up so she’s standing on it.

“EVERYONE SHUT THE HELL UP! I UNDERSTAND NONE OF YOU WANT TO DO THIS CAUSE I SURE AS HELL DONT. BUT THE FASTER EVERYONE LISTENS AND DOES WHAT THEYRE SUPPOSED TO DO AND THE WUICKER YOURE OUT OF HERE AND OFF DOING WHATEVER THE HELL YOU IDIOTS WANT TO DO!”

Every single person in the room turned to look at where she was looking down on all of them. Silently everyone moved where Melissa had originally placed them. Y/N got down from the couch and walked over to where I was standing on the outside of the group.

“I’m glad that worked, I was tired of standing there.”

“Me too, ready to go home and change and do nothing the rest of the day.” I whisper back as I move to tuck in next to John. She moves right next to me so that she’s in the shot too.

“About that, I was planning on heading to the rink after this. I normally would prefer to go alone but you mentioned wanting to skate earlier so…” she kind of trails off and I turn my head to look down at her, “would you want to go with me? Totally cool if not, just thought I’d offer.”

I can feel the smile stretch across my face.

“I would love to go to the rink. I’d have to get my skates from home first though.”

“We can stop on the way to the rink.” She gives me a small smile and I nod.

“Cale! Y/N! Look at the camera please.” We both follow Melissa’s directions and everyone is excited to be released from the pictures from hell.

“Cale?” I turn to see Y/N still next to me, “I’m gonna go talk to my mom then I’m ready when you are.”

“Okay, meet you at the front?” She nods and is gone.

Now I just gotta figure out what to tell Charlie. He invited me to go hang out with him, John, and Tys later. But if so much rather go to the rink. I look around the room before I spot him by his mom and make my way over.

“Hey Charlie I’m gonna head home. Thanks for inviting me to go out but I’m not feeling it today.”

“That’s alright, do you need a ride?”

“Nah I got it figured out.” I kind of hate lying to him. Not that I’m lying technically, but it sure feels like it.

“Alright man. Let me know if you need anything. Have a good night.” He holds his hand out to shake and I do the same.

“Thanks Melissa for dinner. You and Y/N did really good. I had fun.” Not a total lie but not a truth either.

I turn to head to the front door when someone pokes me in the side. I look down and lock eyes with Y/N. Who’s smirking like she just caught someone in the act.

“You’re a liar! You did not have fun.” She whispers to me as we head out together.

“I did have some fun, I wasn’t totally miserable.” We both climb into Charlie and hers shared jeep.

“Uh huh sure. I totally believe you. But did you really like the food?” She looks over at me as she puts the key into the ignition. She looks a little nervous. I wonder why. Then it clicks in my brain. Charlie said something about it being her first time doing the turkey. That makes sense.

“Yeah everything was really good. I liked the turkey a lot.” I give her an affirming nod.

“That’s good, I was a little worried I’d fuck it up somehow. I’ve seen mom do it a million times, but I definitely was not confident in actually doing it myself.” She turns to back out of the driveway then looks at me before she continues.

“I have absolutely no idea where you live.” I laugh a little before directing her to my house.

~~~~~~~~

By the time you pull up to the rink, the sun has disappeared from the sky and there’s only a few other cars in the parking lot. Perfect. You’d have the ice to yourselves mostly. Which is great because you really wanted to work on your triple lutz. It was the hardest move in your program and it showed. You needed it to not show. And if you could get your coach off your ass about it, you definetley wouldn’t be mad.

The moment your blades hit the ice, you feel so much better. The last couple of days have been a lot. Being on the ice just made everything better. You could hear Cale cut through the ice behind you. Pushing yourself off, you started some lazy laps. There was a couple of kids on the ice too, so you kept an eye on them to make sure there was no collisions. Skating over to the corner you made sure the coast was clear before marking your jumps. Starting small at first before making it to the bigger jumps. There was no way you were going to go full out on everything you did tonight, you just had to make sure you were warm before going for the triple. Feeling warm enough, you went for it.

And landed on your ass.

“Fuck.” Starring at the ceiling you went over it in your head. Knowing it was exactly what your coach had said (that you didn’t have enough momentum) you got up, shook it off. And went again. And landed on your ass again. And again. And again.

“You good?” Opening your eyes you saw Cale’s face, right above you. Oh right. You had got in your head and forgot he was there.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Taking the hand he offered, you pulled yourself up, “I’m gonna go again so you might want to watch out.” Cale wisely backed out of your way. By now all the kids were gone, and it was just the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed off. Up in the air you went. One, two three. Hell yeah. Now you just had to stick it. And you did, kind of. Your hand touched the ground to steady yourself, but it was improvement.

“That was so cool!” Cale looked a little awed. Had he never seen a skating program before? It was kind of cute the way he looked so excited.

“I’ll agree with you there, but I need to work on that landing. I at least got three full turns. I’ve only done that once before.”

“Well I mean that's an improvement right?” You shrug, “I think that calls for a break” he gives you a mischievous smile.

“What were you thinking for this break?”

He doesn’t say anything as he slowly skates towards you, until

“TAG!” He barely touches your arm before he’s off.

~~~~~~~~~~

By the time you get home after dropping Cale off and taking a shower, you’re exhausted. There’s a smile on your face though.

Before falling asleep you send Cale quick text.

You: I had fun tonight :)

Cale: me too :)

——————————————

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