#ignore that its. checks time. 4am

[alien-menagerie]

You should draw guest more (this is me your conscious speaking)

ok ! yay !

old fucking dude

[drusill-a]

What if one happens to be possessed of a heart that can’t be trusted? What if the heart, for its own unfathomable reasons, leads one willfully and in a cloud of unspeakable radiance away from health, domesticity, civic responsibility and strong social connections and all the blandly-held common virtues and instead straight toward a beautiful flare of ruin, self-immolation, disaster? If your deepest self is singing and coaxing you straight toward the bonfire, is it better to turn away? Stop your ears with wax? Ignore all the perverse glory your heart is screaming at you? Set yourself on the course that will lead you dutifully towards the norm, reasonable hours and regular medical check-ups, stable relationships and steady career advancement the New York Times and brunch on Sunday, all with the promise of being somehow a better person? Or… is it better to throw yourself head first and laughing into the holy rage calling your name?

june gehringer, I get so jealous of euthanized dogs / joan tierney, dear 4am / caluco, maggots / margaret atwood, [you fit into me] / cameron barnett, murmur / lindsey drager, the archive of alternative endings / @mobydyke / donna tartt, goldfinch / trista mateer, honeybee / michelle zauner, crying in h mart / sylvie baumgartel, pink / joan didion, blue nights / john irving, a prayer for owen meany / brian eno / patrick james errington, after all this small talk, you’d think there’d be no weather left / madeline miller, circe / richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves / the lumineers, ophelia / jeanette winterson, written on the body / fariha róisín, how to cure a ghost / hayley williams, watch me while I bloom / lori gottlieb, maybe you should talk to someone / margaret atwood, cat’s eye / @preschooldr0pout / natalie díaz, postcolonial love poem / donna tartt, goldfinch

[ARMAND] [CLAUDIA]

[sunshinesfreckless]

hear me the fuckkkk out its like 4am as i write this ill check over it before i send (tf i cooked so hard at 4am)

so hyunjin oneshot with him spooning reader, lazily fingering her as shes doing like duolingo or wordle or sudoku or sum that requires brain power and clarity and then if she gets it wrong hes mumbling in her ear in like a deep silky voice like that one live where he was singing red lights ab how what hes gna do if she gets it wrong n shii. also him trailing kisses down her neck the whole time teasing her tryna see how much she can stand with still using her brain? pretty please 🐸🐸🙏🙏

p.s. ily ur writing is top tier i was looking thru my following tryna see who could write it well i saw ur blog i js knew

Academic Achievements

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Hyunjin tries to motivate his hardworking girlfriend in his own… effective way.

Warnings: Fingering, vaginal sex, no condom (Wrap it before you tap it, guys—tsk!), praise kink, Hyunjin being irresistible, mentions of exams…

A/N: Sweetie, I hope you like it! I was so nervous—I went through so many drafts, but this is the final one!

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

She hated exams. God, she hated them. But what she hated even more were these stupid mock tests — endless questions, pressure without the payoff, and the constant anxiety gnawing at her chest.

Hyunjin’s room was dim, the bedside lamp casting a soft amber glow that flickered against the walls. She sat in the middle of his bed, buried in a sea of pillows and his warm vanilla-scented sheets, wearing nothing but his oversized shirt that slipped too easily off one shoulder. The fabric brushed against her bare thighs, the hem riding up every time she shifted with a frustrated sigh.

Across the room, Hyunjin was quietly going through his night routine — shirtless, skin glowing from his skincare, the gentle tap of lotion bottles the only sound besides her annoyed mumbling. He watched her, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Baby,” he murmured, his voice low and lazy as he approached the bed, “are you gonna sleep tonight, or just keep arguing with your quiz app?”

She ignored him, chewing on her lip, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Almost done.”

Hyunjin chuckled and climbed into bed beside her, the mattress dipping under his weight. He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her snugly against him, his chest flush with her back. She could feel the heat radiating from his skin, the softness of his lips ghosting just behind her ear.

“Your elbow’s gonna hurt from all that head weight,” he whispered teasingly. “At least lie on your back for a bit.”

She shook her head. “I can go study in the kitchen if it bothers you… I know you have a performance tomorrow.”

He didn’t let go. Instead, he nuzzled into her hair, speaking against her neck. “It’s not even live. Just some award show. I’d rather stay here. With you.”

His fingers slipped under the hem of the shirt she wore — his shirt — fingertips just barely brushing the bare skin of her hip. She sucked in a quiet breath, the tension in her shoulders faltering for just a second.

“Stay here and keep studying,” he murmured, voice low and warm against her neck. His hand lazily traced slow, deliberate circles across her stomach, just beneath the hem of his shirt. “I won’t be a distraction.”

She gave a half-smile. “No sweetheart, don’t you get distracted,” she teased softly.

He hummed, lips brushing her shoulder, but didn’t answer. Her attention drifted back to the screen, mock exam blinking back at her. She exhaled, refocused, and tapped her answer.

But his fingers moved lower.

They barely ghosted over the waistband of her panties — soft, testing — then down further, tracing lightly over the thin fabric. She froze, breath catching.

“Jinnie…” she whispered, warning, pleading — not sure which.

“Keep going, baby,” he purred in her ear, his breath sending a shiver down her spine. “You can do your little test, can’t you?”

His fingers pressed more firmly now, rubbing slow, measured circles just over her clit. “Every wrong answer…” he paused, kissed the shell of her ear, “…and I’ll bury my fingers deeper.”

She whimpered.

“I wanna see how smart my baby really is,” he said. “See how long that pretty little brain can focus while I stretch you open.”

Her thumb trembled as she tapped the next question. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to get it right or wrong. Either way, she was already losing the battle.

“Next question. Don’t mess it up.”

Her thumb trembled as she tapped the screen. A math problem. Of course it had to be math. She squinted at the options, trying to remember the formula, trying not to react when his fingers gently parted her folds and brushed against her clit. Barely a touch, but enough to make her hips twitch.

“Mmh, what’s the answer, smart girl?” he asked, kissing her neck as his fingertip moved in slow, teasing circles over her slick skin. “C? Or D? Pick one before I do.”

She gasped and tapped an answer.

Silence.

“Wrong,” he whispered darkly, and before she could protest, one finger slipped inside her. Just the tip. Just enough to make her clench.

“Fuck…” she breathed, her body arching back into him involuntarily.

He held her tighter, his arm around her waist locking her in place. “Already this wet, and we’ve only just started?” he murmured, dragging his finger back out slowly, only to push it in again, deeper this time. “Let’s see how many more questions you can answer with my fingers fucking your brain.”

Her thumb hovered over the next question, pulse racing, breath shaky.

“Ten more to go,” Hyunjin said, tongue flicking over the shell of her ear. “And if you get even one more wrong, I’m going to make you come with my hand over your mouth so the neighbors don’t hear how dumb I’m making you.”

Her thumb trembled over the screen, the next question a blur through the heat building behind her eyes. She could barely remember what she was doing anymore — was it chemistry? Anatomy? Irony? Nothing mattered now except the steady, slow rhythm of Hyunjin’s finger sliding in and out of her, each movement dragging a gasp from her throat.

He buried his mouth in the curve of her neck, his breath hot against her skin. His voice, deep and low like silk over velvet, melted into her ear. “You’re not even trying anymore,” he whispered, kissing just below her jaw. “What happened to my little overachiever?”

She whimpered as he added another finger, the stretch just enough to make her thighs tighten. His pace didn’t change — slow, torturous — but his words made her feel dizzy.

“Focus,” he cooed, lips brushing her pulse. “Come on, baby. Get this one right and maybe I’ll fill you up later.”

A pause. Another kiss to her throat. “Get it wrong…” His fingers curled, just right. “And I’ll make you come again and again until you forget what exams even are.”

Her hips jerked, a soft moan caught in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. His hand kept her close, the other working her open so tenderly it felt cruel.

He tilted her chin slightly, voice lowering even more, like a secret. “You feel that, sweetheart? That’s how deep my fingers are inside you. Imagine what my cock would feel like.”

Her eyes fluttered closed.

“Nuh-uh,” Hyunjin whispered, dragging his thumb up to circle her clit. “Eyes on the screen. Be good. Show me how smart that pretty little brain.”

She clenched her jaw, refusing to let her hand shake as she tapped the next answer. It had to be right. She needed it to be right.

A second passed.

Hyunjin’s soft chuckle rumbled against her back. “Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her neck. “That’s three in a row.”

Her breath caught, body tensing with need at the sound of those two words. Good girl. The way he said it — like it tasted sweet on his tongue — made her crave more. She needed more praise, more kisses, more of his slow, addictive voice wrapping around her.

“I knew you were smart,” he whispered, dragging his tongue along the shell of her ear. “Answer another one right and I might let you come with my fingers still inside you.”

His fingers pushed deeper, curling just right, making her hips roll back instinctively. And that’s when she felt it — the hard press of his cock through his boxers, grinding slow and steady against the curve of her ass. Her breath stuttered.

“Hyunjin—” she gasped.

“You feel that?” he murmured, rocking his hips into her again, achingly slow. “That’s what you do to me, sweetheart. Sitting here, all smart and needy in my shirt… trying so hard to stay focused while my fingers are deep inside your pretty little pussy…”

Her thighs trembled as she forced her eyes back to the screen. The next question blinked at her. She couldn’t even read it through the fog in her head — her whole body was vibrating with need, her clit throbbing against the soft brush of his thumb.

Still, she answered.

Right again.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his voice cracking with arousal now. “Look at you. You want my praise that bad, huh? Grinding that ass into me, all wet and eager, just to hear me say you’re doing good.”

He rolled his hips again, harder this time, dragging a moan from her lips.

“You’re killing me, baby,” he groaned, kissing down the line of her throat, his fingers moving faster now — deeper, hungrier. “But you’re being so good. So fucking good. Keep going for me, yeah? Let’s see how smart you can stay when I start fingering your brain out.”

Her fingers trembled as she tapped the next answer.

Another second passed. A soft ding.

“Right again,” Hyunjin murmured, voice thick with approval. “That’s four.”

His fingers stilled inside her. She whimpered, hips twitching to chase the rhythm, but he held her firmly in place.

“Don’t be greedy, baby,” he said, pulling his hand away completely. She gasped at the sudden emptiness.

“W-Why’d you stop?” she asked, voice shaking.

“Because good girls get rewarded, right?” He shifted behind her, the rustle of fabric loud in the quiet room. A moment later, she felt it — the heat of his bare skin against hers. He had pushed his boxers down, and now his cock was pressed along the curve of her ass, thick and hard and pulsing.

She shivered.

“That’s your reward,” he whispered, grinding against her slowly, deliberately. “Feel that? You’re making me this hard, baby. Just by getting your little quiz questions right.”

She whimpered, pressing her hips back into him. But his hand closed over her waist, halting her.

“Next question,” he said, breathless against her ear. “Let’s see if you can earn something more.”

She turned her attention back to the screen, barely able to read through the heat clouding her vision. Every nerve in her body was lit up, every breath shallow and desperate. She tapped another answer.

Wrong.

Hyunjin tsked. “Tsk tsk. You were doing so well.”

Before she could react, he gripped her hips and pulled her back against him harder. His cock slid between her thighs, not inside her yet — just teasing, the head brushing her soaked folds. She let out a strangled noise.

“Now,” he growled, voice lower than ever, “you don’t get to feel me anymore.”

He rolled her onto her back. Then he climbed over her, pinning her down with his body, his cock still teasing against her folds but not entering.

“You want it?” he asked, brushing his lips over hers.

She nodded frantically.

“Then earn it. Five more. Get three right, and I’ll fuck you the way you need me to. Get less…” His hand slid back between her legs, and he slapped her clit lightly. She gasped.

“I’ll make you come, sure,” he whispered, “but you won’t get me.”

Her body arched.

“But baby…” he added, kissing the corner of her mouth. “If you get all five right… I’ll let you come while I’m inside you. I’ll whisper how proud I am while you fall apart around my cock. Deal?”

She nodded again, dazed.

“Good girl,” he breathed.

And she started the next question — heart hammering, body trembling, more desperate for his praise than she was for the perfect score.

She sucked in a shaky breath and dragged the laptop back onto her lap, screen glowing bright against the dim room. Her legs fell open just slightly, the edge of the laptop nestled above her trembling thighs. Hyunjin hovered above her, one hand braced beside her head, the other lazily stroking his cock — slow and teasing — letting her see what she was working for.

“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “All flushed and smart… dripping for me while you study.”

She couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. Her fingers hovered over the trackpad, nerves shot, body taut.

“Five questions,” he said again, voice a promise. “Get them right, and I’ll fuck you full. Slow, deep, no teasing. Just you, me, and this perfect little pussy.”

Her thighs clenched.

She clicked the next answer.

Correct.

Hyunjin hummed, satisfied. “That’s one, baby. Four to go. Come on, show me.”

The second question loaded — something about physics. Her brain was barely functioning, but she closed her eyes for one second, visualized the formula, and clicked.

Correct.

He groaned softly above her. “Two. Fuck, you’re killing me.”

She glanced up and saw it — the way his hand gripped tighter at the base of his cock, jaw clenched, eyes fixed on her like she was divine. Like he was holding himself back for her.

Third question. Literature. She didn’t even have to think — muscle memory took over.

Correct.

Hyunjin let out a low, breathless moan. “Three. You’re so smart, sweetheart. So fucking smart.”

He kissed her then — slow, tongue sliding over hers, reverent. Like she was something sacred. She whimpered into his mouth, hips lifting, needing more.

Fourth question. History. She hesitated. Then tapped.

Correct.

He swore under his breath and grabbed the base of his cock tighter, precum smearing across his hand.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s four. One more, baby. Just one more and I’m yours.”

She could barely see. Her body was burning, brain half-melted. But she clicked.

Correct.

Silence.

She turned her Laptop.

Hyunjin stared at the screen, then back at her, and something in him broke.

“Perfect fucking score,” he breathed.

He grabbed the laptop, set it aside, and kissed her — hard. Desperate. Then he slid down her body, spreading her thighs wide with shaking hands.

“You’re gonna feel every inch,” he said, positioning himself at her entrance, voice hoarse. “And I’m not stopping until you come all over me.”

He pushed in slowly — so achingly slow she sobbed — stretching her open, filling her inch by inch. His hands were everywhere, caressing her face, her hips, her stomach like he couldn’t believe she was real.

“Look at you,” he whispered against her mouth. “Taking me so good… so fucking good…”

He bottomed out, groaning deep in his throat as she clenched around him.

“You did so well,” he panted, starting to move. “You worked so hard. You earned this, baby. This pussy was made to be fucked like this — slow, deep, and full of me.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, legs around his waist, holding him close as he fucked her — not hard, but deep. Intimate. Each thrust hit the spot perfectly, dragging cries from her lips.

“That’s it,” he whispered, kissing her jaw, her neck, her temple. “Take it, baby. Let me love you like this.”

Her walls fluttered around him, pleasure cresting high and hot in her belly.

“I want you to come just like this,” he said, burying himself deep. “With my cock inside you. Full of me. Proud of you.”

She shattered.

Her whole body arched, a cry ripped from her throat as waves of pleasure crashed through her. Hyunjin held her tight, fucked her through it, whispered how proud he was — over and over like a prayer.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed, kissing her temple. “So fucking perfect.”

Her body was still twitching when Hyunjin pulled out, cock glistening with slick and twitching with the effort it took not to just sink right back in.

But then she gave him that look — glassy-eyed, lips parted, still trembling and soft and ruined — and he snapped.

“Still wet for me?” he whispered, dragging two fingers down between her legs, spreading her folds. She whimpered, too sensitive, but didn’t stop him. Couldn’t.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he groaned. “You liked that, huh? Liked me praising your smart little brain while I fucked you dumb?”

Her head lolled back on the pillow, a broken moan slipping from her mouth.

Hyunjin leaned down, licking into her like he was starving — slow, deliberate laps of his tongue over her overstimulated clit until she was squirming, gasping, legs shaking against his shoulders.

“I said you earned it,” he murmured, mouth still between her thighs. “I didn’t say we were done.”

He didn’t stop until she came again — messier, louder this time — and then, before she could recover, he was climbing over her, cock slick with both their arousal.

“Gonna give you more,” he panted, not even asking this time as he slid in again, balls-deep in one slow thrust that made her choke on a moan. “Gonna fuck you so full you won’t remember what an exam is.”

He set a brutal pace — not cruel, but hungry — dragging her down the bed with every thrust. Her legs were wrapped around his waist, arms limp above her head as he held her down, one hand gripping the headboard for leverage, the other caressing her thigh as if trying to soothe her through the overwhelming pace.

“Still doing so good for me,” he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers. “So fucking good. My good girl.”

She sobbed — overwhelmed, overstimulated, completely undone. Her body shook beneath him, slick and messy and so damn full.

“Wanna come inside you,” he moaned, losing rhythm as her walls clenched around him. “Fill you up ‘til it leaks out. You want that, baby?”

She nodded, frantic.

“Beg,” he whispered, eyes locked on hers. “Come on. You got a perfect score — show me how bad you want your prize.”

She could barely speak, but the words tumbled out anyway. “Want you to come inside me, please— please, Hyunjin— I need it— I need you.”

That was it.

He came with a sharp cry, hips slamming into hers one last time as he spilled inside, filling her so deep she could feel it, warmth flooding her core. He stayed like that for a moment — buried to the hilt, panting, arms trembling.

Then he collapsed onto her chest, kissing her collarbones, her jaw, her forehead like a man in love.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “You’re everything.”

She stroked his hair with shaky fingers, still catching her breath.

“I should try to fail more often, so you can motivate me” she joked weakly.

He laughed — real and soft — and kissed her gently. “Don’t you dare. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met.”

He pulled out slowly, watching his cum spill from her with a groan, and reached for the towel beside the bed.

But before he could clean her up, she grabbed his wrist.

“Wait,” she murmured, eyes wide and sleepy. “Just… stay here. Like this. For a second.”

He paused.

Then dropped the towel and curled up beside her, pulling the blanket over their bodies, wrapping her tight in his arms.

“Okay,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “Let’s stay forever.”

And she fell asleep like that — full of him, wrapped in him, her laptop still glowing softly at the foot of the bed, a perfect score blinking on the screen.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

@sapphirewaves @bemyaehiweloveskz @velvetmoonlght

[jinwoosbabyboo]

Moments Posts - MC

Random posts on the TL from MC ... I love how even in the game all the boys comment on MCs posts

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by_thedrzayne, seagod_raf_, lumiere.who and 130k others

misshuntermc: bad bitch with a baddie friend

tagged: liiisa_

comments

liiisa_: with a baddie friend

↳ talkthat_tara: I love seeing two bad bitches ↳ misshuntermc: two bad bitches ↳ liiisa_: two bad bitches be friends

_thedrzayne: Pretty girl 🩵

skye.109: Gorgeous 😮‍💨

↳ liiisa_: me? ↳ skye.109: No ↳ liiisa_: 🥲

seagod_raf_: why are you so fine wtf 🫠🫠

lumiere.who: Good lord 😍

nene.nero: mc got these boys BARKIN in her comment section 🥴

↳ thing1_luke: riiiigght ↳ talkthat_tara: must be nice

thing2_kieran: a bad bitch that's wearing my gloves WHO SAID THAT??? 🫨

↳ misshuntermc: that block button looking real good now 😌 ↳ thing2_kieran: I was just playing 🥺

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by skye.109, _thedrzayne, seagod_raf_ and 101k others

misshuntermc: Look at Tara looking tf GOODT

tagged: talkthat_tara

comments

seagod_raf_: no lie im only looking at you 👀

↳ thomasthomas_: this aint about mc ↳ seagod_raf_: its always about mc 😡

lumiere.who: I can't take my eyes off you

skye.109: im looking at you looking tf goodt

_thedrzayne: I see no one else but you mc

liiisa_: Tara babes you look stunning honey 🤤

↳ talkthat_tara: thank you Lisa I love you 😘 ↳ misshuntermc: ignore the boys you stole the show babes

yvannamama: girl where was my invite? 🧐

↳ misshuntermc: I invited you and you said you had to work ↳ yvannamama: damn this job

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by talkthat_tara, nene.nero, imjenna and 127k others

misshuntermc: We got Jenna to come out somebody pinch me

tagged: talkthat_tara, liiisa_, imjenna

comments

imjenna: you girls know how to have fun

↳ liiisa_: same time next week? ↳ imjenna: absolutely not ↳ talkthat_tara: well we tried

lumiere.who: so this is what you four were up to while the rest of us worked overtime?

↳ talkthat_tara: you sound like a hater ↳ liiisa_: look man I'm just a girl ↳ misshuntermc: I don't make the rules here 🤷🏾‍♀️

nene.nero: I had an extra 3 hours of paperwork because of this

↳ imjenna: are you complaining? ↳ nene.nero: n no ma'am ↳ misshuntermc: she got you stuttering in the replies ☠️☠️

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by skye.109, gray_sun, yvannamama and 115k others

misshuntermc: Staying out until 4am as if we don't have an 8am job to get to

tagged: talkthat_tara, liiisa_

comments

imjenna: this explains why you were late

↳ misshuntermc: it won't happen again it was Neros fault

nene.nero: now why am I in it??? 🤨

↳ talkthat_tara: you decided to question us for 30 minutes when we walked in the door ↳ nene.nero: it was work related ↳ misshuntermc: should've let us clock in first

skye.109: lmk when you're ready to quit working so you don't have to worry about that anymore

↳ _thedrzayne: don't worry I got her ↳ seagod_raf_: relax boys she's with me I'll take care of her ↳ lumiere.who: if anyone is taking care of her its gonna be me

thing2_kieran: uh oh the girls are fighting^^

↳ thing1_luke: Boss will win ↳ thomasthomas_: idk Rafayel is crazy I'd bet money on him ↳ whosjeremiah: Xavier punched me in the mouth for mispronouncing mc's name once ↳ gray_sun: he'll never admit it but Zayne shoulder checked tf out of me so he could speak to mc first

misshuntermc

♥️ liked by talkthat_tara, nene.nero, imjenna and 135k others

misshuntermc: Picture was perfect and this bitch fell on me 🙄

tagged: liiisa_

comments

liiisa_: bitch I told you to hold me up while I fixed my shoe

↳ misshuntermc: you barely gave me a second to ready myself ↳ nene.nero: I would've let her fall ↳ talkthat_tara: stop hating we invited you out and you declined

thing1_luke: HAHAHAHAHAHA loser

↳ misshuntermc: this is why Kieran is my favorite ↳ thing1_luke: stop don't say that 🥺 ↳ thing2_kieran: i will gladly hold the crown of being the favorite 😋 ↳ skye.109: can you not pit these 2 against each other they're getting on my nerves

[Direct message to Sylus]

misshuntermc: you're my favorite 😘 skye.109: Hell yea 😌

[goldenempyrean]

Hi there! If you are still taking them id love to request a fic where the avengers are bantering/teasing Natasha because she supposedly never gets sick but a little while later R finds her crying and thinks its because the guys have upset her but its really because she feels so terrible.Maybe including Baby, I think this is more than just the sniffles and Oh my god you’re completely burning up. Sorry if this is too specific I just think it would be so cute

You're My World

〚 Notes - Wow, its been a while. I haven’t written Nat in so long, finally getting this request done <3 〛

〚 Pairing - Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Nobody really believes it when Natasha gets ill but there’s always going to be one person thats always there for her. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2100 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“Afternoon sunshine, and just what time do you call this?” The voice of Tony called out with a small chuckle, raising his eyebrows from behind a mug of coffee.

“Lay off her Stark.” You bit back, shooting him a glare and came over to where your girlfriend had shuffled into the room. She was leaning against the doorframe, her pale complexion a sharp contrast to her messy red curls.

You put down your own coffee and came to her side, hand reaching up to cup her cheeks, “Morning baby,” You murmured, kissing her forehead gently before taking her hand and leading her over to sit by the kitchen island, “You still not feeling good?”

The two of you had been cuddled in bed together last night when she’d complained of being extra tired and after some gentle encouraging, she’d eventually admitted that she’d had a growing sinus headache for most of the day.

When you’d woken up that morning, Natasha had still been asleep, still curled up in your arms. Usually, she was up before the sun had even risen, getting in a workout or simply just enjoying her morning. After some careful consideration you decided it would be best to let her sleep in, so you’d carefully detached yourself from her arms and pulled the blanket back over her before silently tiptoeing out from the room.

Natasha shook her head, “I think I’m getting a cold.” She mumbled glumly, letting her head fall onto your shoulder as you sat down beside her. She stayed like that for a moment before falling into a painful sounding coughing fit.

“Baby, I think this is more than just the sniffles,” You sighed sympathetically in response, “You wanna head back to bed? I can bring you some water and something to eat?”

“Heading back to bed? At this time in the afternoon?” Tony interrupted with a playful scoff as she jumped up to sit on the countertop. He looked at you then Natasha before whistling through his teeth, “You, Miss Romanoff, look like shit.”

“Shut up Stark.” It was too early to be dealing with his shenanigans. Natasha just rolled her eyes, judging it best to simply ignore him, “And just for the record, it’s barely 10am. No idea what world you live in where that’s considered afternoon.”

"That's probably the world where Tony's been up since 4am tinkering with his latest suit," Steve chimed in, entering the kitchen with a knowing smile. He grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter and took a bite, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Natasha gave a weak chuckle which was quickly followed by a short cough into her elbow, rubbing a hand down the front of her throat. She swallowed and tried her best not to wince at the painful sensation which followed.

Of course you noticed. “I’ll grab you that water.” You rubbed her back gently for a moment before heading to the fridge.

“I didn’t even know you could get sick yknow.” Clint piped up, seemingly deciding to join in on the conversation. He’d previously been too engaged with trying to solve the children’s word search on the back of his brightly coloured cereal box.

She looked over towards him, “What do you mean?” Her eyes narrowed a little.

“I dunno.” He shrugged, “I just mean, I’ve never even seen you close to sick. Like when you had the gnarly shoulder cut that got infected, you didn’t even run a fever or anything like most people do.”

Tony pulled a face of disgust, “Barton, I really do not need to be hearing about gross shoulder gashes when I’m trying to enjoy my coffee, thank you very much.” Clint pulled a similar face to mock him before throwing a tea towel in his general direction, leading the two of them to start bickering at each other.

You’d just been handing your girlfriend the bottle of water when Bruce strolled in - adjusting his glasses and taking in the scene. "How come everyone's so chipper this morning," He asked dryly. "What's going on?"

"Romanoff’s caught the plague," Tony took a break from messing with Clint to speak in his most serious voice, earned several eyerolls from around the room, "But don't worry, Doctor Banner, I'm sure ‘Miss I Never Take Sick Days’ will pull through."

Natasha groaned, “God you’re such an asshole.” She sniffled, rubbing at her nose for a moment. Whatever itch she’d been trying to get rid of clearly hadn’t been listening because a second later she drew in a sharp breath and sneezed twice in quick succession.

It wasn’t exactly a dainty sound, like her usual sneezes rather harsher yet still somewhat feminine. Obviously, it was still adorable, but you couldn’t help but think now wasn’t the best thing to vocalise that.

Instead, you settled for a loving, “Bless you.” as you offered her a tissue from the box nearby. She mumbled a quiet thank you, dabbing at her nose. The teasing continued as you rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

"Maybe she just needs more vitamins," Clint suggested with a smirk. "Or maybe a new suit of armour, Tony?"

"Please, like I'd let anyone else touch my suits," Tony replied, his voice dripping with mock horror. Natasha sneezed again, a little louder this time and he pointed over in her direction, “Plus there’s no way I’m letting someone that drippy inside one of my suits. I’m not in the mood to expose my lab to a walking biohazard.”

“You’re exhausting.” Natasha sniffled from behind a tissue. Her nose was starting to take on an irritated red twinge. She coughed again before clearing her throat roughly, “s’cuse me.”

You felt your gaze soften a little, “You’re okay sweetheart.” You spoke reassuringly, before offering an outstretched hand as you slid from your stool, “How ‘bout we head back up to bed, get you away from all the men-pheromones. They surely can’t be making you feel any better.”

It didn’t take much convincing for her to agree.

She accepted your hand gratefully as helped her to her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist to support her as you both walked back to your room.

Once back in your room, you gently guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. "How about I run you a nice relaxing bath?" You suggested, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. The subtle heat rising from her skin didn’t go unnoticed though, “Poor girl, you're completely burning up here, aren’t you?”

You made a mental note to take her temperature and get some medicine into her later. You knew she’d likely fight you about it, but that bridge could be crossed when it came to it.

In the current moment Natasha nodded, “A bath sounds nice.” Her voice was a little worse than earlier, a little more congested and scratchier.

“Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll get it ready," You said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before heading into the bathroom.

It didn’t take long to draw the bath. You methodically checked it to make sure it wasn’t too hot nor cold, even going as far to add a generous squirt of your berry-scented bubble bath. You weren’t entirely sure she’d be able to smell it but the clouds of fluffy bubbles covering the surface of the water certainly did the job. The steam began to rise, filling the room with a comforting warmth. You smiled to yourself and drew a little heart on the condensation-soaked mirror before heading back out to get Nat.

Natasha wasn’t where you’d left her. Instead, she was led down on the bed, curled up with her back facing the door. You knew she wasn’t asleep by her breathing, so you gently came to sit by her side, “Natty?” You murmured quietly, reaching out to stroke her back when you noticed the damp sniffles coming from her. She was crying.

“Oh baby, what’s up my love?” You were pulling her into your arms in an instant. She clung onto you; her body wracked with feverish chills. You knew fevers made her weepy, but this was different. Your poor baby was distraught.

The redhead sobbed for a little longer, before sniffling thickly, “I don’t know.” She managed to stammer out, wiping her eyes but fresh tears quickly came to replace them.

“Was it the boys earlier?” You scowled, “I know they didn’t mean harm but-“

She shook her head, looking more vulnerable than you’d ever seen her, "No, it's not that. I’m just- I just feel so exhausted... my whole-body hurts and I feel so ill." Her voice cracked as she tried to speak, blinking as your hand gently moved up to wipe away the tears streaming down her fave.

You wrapped her in a gentle hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "I know, sweetheart, I know. It's sucks to feel sick; I understand especially how hard it is when you’re not used to it either. You’re my world Natasha, so just let me look after you, alright?”

She nodded after a moment and you gave her a few minutes to let it all out, holding her until she was ready. Eventually the tears stopped, and she looked up you again, “I’m okay. I’m sorry I just lost myself for moment.” She leaned away from you as she cough harshly, her poor voice sounding even worse then earlier.

You rubbed her back until she managed to stop coughing and catch her breath, “You’ve got nothing to apologise for. You and fevers don’t go well as if we both know but if we’re being honest, I think you needed that, to just get all of that out. Sometimes its better to cry it all out.”

“It still sucks though.”

“I won't argue with that,” You couldn’t hold back a chuckle. She did have a point. “How about we get you in that bath now?”

The offer wasn’t refused and soon the two of you were cooped up in the bathroom. You found yourself kneeling down by the side of the tub as you gently washed her hair, running your hand through her damp red curls.

“How does that feel baby? The steam should help open up your sinuses a little.”

Natasha closed her eyes, a small sigh escaping her lips. "It feels good, really good." Her voice was softer now, a bit more relaxed as she leaned into your touch. You continued to gently massage her scalp, feeling the tension slowly melt away under your fingers.

You reached for the cup nearby, carefully rinsing the shampoo from her hair, ensuring none of it got into her eyes. "You're doing great," You murmured, placing a soft kiss on her temple.

She sniffled again, but this time it wasn't accompanied by tears. "Thanks for taking care of me," She whispered, her eyes meeting yours with a grateful look.

“Of course.” You smiled lovingly. The two of you continued the talk quietly as you continued to wash her hair. Nat had insisted she was okay to sit by herself but the way her eyes kept drooping closed didn’t have you convinced. Eventually the water began to turn cold, and it was time for her to get out.

There was a fluffy towel ready and waiting to be wrapped around her. You’d already laid out a fresh pair of matching pyjamas for you both to change into.

You helped her into the pyjamas, making sure she was warm and comfortable. As she settled onto the bed, you pulled the covers up around her, tucking her in gently. Natasha's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, but she opened them again, looking at you when she felt something being gently nestled into her hold.

Her small brown bear. Something only, you knew about. It brought her comfort when there was nobody else around, it was something you’d given to her before you’d gone on a long undercover mission. If anyone else knew how much it meant to her, she’d probably have to kill them. This was something only she could know.

"Do you need anything else my darling?" You asked quietly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face as you climbed beneath the covers beside her.

Rolling over to face you, Natasha buried her face in your chest, “Just you, only you.” She muttered before hiding a yawn against your shirt. You knew she’d be asleep soon and you began drawing random shapes down her back as she settled into your hold, her eyes fluttering closed as she fell into a gentle sleep.

It was true Natasha Romanoff didn’t get sick often but when she did? Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

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[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- The Truth Always Comes Out

9 months ago YN YLN did something that she wasn’t proud of, she was drunk and she’d had an argument with her husband. So she ran to a man who she could always trust, a man who she’d secretly always loved even if he didn’t love her back, a man she had known her whole life. His name. Tommy Shelby. The night in question started off as him comforting her, but the more whisky that was drank the more bold the pair got landing YN in he best friends bed. She had cheated on her husband.

Weeks later YN had started to feel unwell, she went to the doctors who confirmed she was pregnant. Now YN knew that it could not be her husband’s because their sex life had been nonexistent, it was Tommy’s baby, she knew for sure.

YN had kept her pregnancy a secret for 9 months, it wasn’t to hard since her husband had been away for the remainder part of her pregnancy which is when she really popped.

12th September

The day was a gloomy one, rain had set in and YN had started off the day with a dull ache in her lower back. Ignoring it YN had carried on the day as normal. The dull ache through the day had progressively gotten worse to the point that in the early hours of the morning YN knew that she was in fact in labour. Crying out in pain she manages to get to her phone and call the closest person to her, Ada

“Come on come on” she brags hearing the rings then finally the sweet, tired voice of Ada comes through

“Hello?”

“Ada” YNs voice squeaks laced in pain

“YN is that you? what’s wrong why are you phoning me me at.. 4am?”

“Ada I need your help. Please I can… ahhhh” water trickles down her legs “Ada I’m having a baby, I need your help. Please” she cries into the phone

“Ok I’m coming” with that YN puts the phone down and waddles to her living room waiting for the Shelby sister to arrive. Each contraction hit her harder than the last.

In no time at all Ada bursts through YN’s front door to find her covered in sweat and tears

“Ada”

“It’s ok YN I’m here, ok we’re going to do this together ok?” YN only nods her head slightly unable to speak as another contraction hits “let’s take a look shall we?” Ada checks between YNs legs gasping “this babies coming now YN I can see its head. You need to push when you have another contraction ok?”

“Ada i can’t do this”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. Now come on YN”

Who know how long YN had been in labour for, at least 20 hours or more, but after 10 minutes of pushing YN held a newborn boy in her arms

“Why isn’t Richard here if you were so close to having a baby?” Ada asks tidying up “wait did you know you were pregnant?”

“Oh Ada” YNs eyes glass over with tears

“YN what is it what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what to do, he’s not Richard’s” YN cries finally telling someone about her awful actions

“What do you mean he’s not… did you sleep with someone else?” YN sadly nods her head “when? who?”

“We haven’t been doing well for a while, he had spoken about a divorce and in my family your disowned. We got in an argument one night and I… shit Ada I went to see Tommy”

“This is my brothers child!” Ada shouts causing the newborn babe to start crying “sorry” she says softly looking at the baby being rocked in YNs arms “why didn’t you tell someone? Have you hidden this pregnancy the whole time?” YN nods her head

“I couldn’t say anything because what would I haven been seen as? I cheated on my husband. I couldn’t pretend that the baby was his because we haven’t slept with each other for over a year. He still wants a divorce that’s why he’s in America away from me”

“Oh YN, come here” Ada’s placed her arm over her friends shoulders in an act to try and comfort her “first of all he left you, you might still be officially married but I think your relationship ended the night he wanted a divorce. Do you love him?”

“Richard? At one point yes but not for a long time”

“I wasn’t talking about Richard” Ada gives YN a small smile

“Tommy? Oh errm I… I’ve… I guess I…”

“I think I know the answer. You can’t hide his child from him YN, you’ve got to tell him”

“I’ve hidden my pregnancy from him, he’ll hate me”

“Trust me he won’t. Now let me have cuddles with my nephew and you get some sleep” Ada takes the baby in her arms before helping YN get comfortable in her bed “I’ll stay here as long as you need me to. I’ll come with you to see Tommy if you want”

“Thank you Ada, truly”

[robiinurheart33]

Part 1

The next time Soap wakes up, he isn’t screaming anymore.

He sort of felt that after passing out from the pain of Ghost’s touch along with the stitches that he was gonna wake up in a shitton of pain but surpringly he felt…comfortable. Soap opens his bleary eyes to take stock of the situation. He’s obviously in one of the rooms in the safe house, the room completely void of light. Not even the moonlight is able to pierce through the blackout curtains. No doubt Ghost probably would’ve also dead locked the windows. He feels the cooling touch of a bedsheet under his fingers, the whirring of a fan blowing on his face. He can hear shuffling downstairs, Ghost probably settling down for a few days at the house before they’re cleared to go out.

Johnny sits up with a soft groan, hand patting his side where his stitches lie. His mind feels blissfully silent, like for once a higher being is allowing him to rest, if only for a short while. He feels 10 again when his socked feet slide across the ground as he stands, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and opening the door to the bedroom. Johnny isn’t completely sure of where his bedroom is located, but he manages to find the living room easily and by extension; Ghost. He looks ethereal and deadly in the moonlight, sitting on the couch and cleaning his guns.

“About time you woke up.” Christ, he sounds exhausted. Has he rested even once when he patched Soap up?

“How long was I out?”

A pause. “Long enough.” Ghost sounded more gravely than usual. Soap tries not to dwell on it, what it implies. He knows that even if he tries to get Ghost to rest, it would end up fruitless. He knows other ways to trick him into resting.

Johnny spots his phone on the table and checks the time. 2:37am. Shit, it’s been quite a while since he passed out. They left for the op at 4am, and arrived at the safe house at around 7:30am. He’d been sleeping all this time. He sighs and perches himself onto the couch arm. Far enough that he isn’t invading Ghost’s personal space, but still remaining within his reach. He stares at the generic wallpaper his phone is blinking back at him. His real phone is back in his bedside table at base. The wallpaper is of his family about 8 years ago, all of them grinning at a eyefish filter Johnny’s sister took. Johnny looks ridiculous, his mowhawk not yet making its debut, and an old phase of a beard is evident on his face, bushy and proud. This was taken when they were all on vacation together, a rare occasion when he was able to save enough offs and before all the kids, complications and death. There were the MacTavishes, once upon a time. His mother, two older sisters and a little, blue eyed John. Remember John, His sister hissed, wagging a finger in his face. You’re a Mactavish. When we get down we get the fuck back up again. He’s always admired his sister. he misses them both so, so, much.

“Do you sometimes ever wonder if this life is really worth it?” Johnny suddenly blurts out. He feels his face immediately start burning. God, that’s embarrassing. “Being in the military, I-I mean.”

He knows that Ghost, out of all people would be the worst person to talk to about feelings. He’s an important person that has more responsibilities to lie his focus on, much less his feelings. Shit, can he take back the words? No, that would be even worse. Can Ghost just ignore him? No, wait, that might be even worse if they just stay in this stupid awkward silence Soap subjected them to-

“All the time.”

Johnny whips his head around so fast he’s sure he has whiplash.

“A-all the time?”

To be honest, Johnny never really thought Ghost has a life outside of the military. He never talks about family, friends or maybe even a girlfriend. He doesn’t like to think of the implications or anything about his past. It just felt invasive and inappropriate to do so, even if they were close. Price had told him one late night, smoke curling lazily behind his ear, with low murmurs and blood shot eyes that Simon has no one left to mourn him. Johnny didn’t ask for the details. He didn’t have any right to.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate. Johnny doesn’t blame him.

He turns back to staring at the wooden walls deprived of any decoration, not even a small potted plant. He takes a deep inhale and sighs, breathing in the stale air. Fuck it. Whether he wants to hear it or not; Johnny can’t take the pain of awkward silence.

“My mom back home, she…” He wet his lips, thinking for a moment. “She writes to me, sometimes. Tells me every single detail of her day, that old hag.” Johnny chuckles, tracing the gnarly stitch work Ghost had done on him over his shirt. “But that’s just because she doesnt have anything else going on in her life. Which, I mean, it does sound depressing, but she’s in her own little bubble y’know? She goes to her yoga class, book club, she bakes, and she’s just fine with that life.” He looks over at Ghost, who’s now looking right at him, gun hanging loosely from his hands.

Soap thinks it would probably be a nice way to go. If Ghost shot him in the head right now.

“She’s…. Happy. I think. I hope so.”

“Hm.”

Soap scratches at the base of his neck, looking out the window. The grass seemed to stretch on forever, into the horizon. The moon is just a sliver today, peeking over from its shadow, casting a light blue tint over everything. He thinks if he stood on the road and looked straight ahead, it would look something like those pictures they make you stare at when they check for eyesight at the doctor’s, but without the hot air balloon.

A soft click alerts Soap back to reality, watching Ghost place down his gun.

“Let me get dinner.”

He blinks.

“You haven’t eaten?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Soap hears a few pots cutleries clink against one another.

“…was waiting for you.”

And fuck, if that just makes his intensities melt and swirl together. Ghost was waiting for him? He was waiting for Soap to wake up to eat dinner together? Jesus Christ. He manages to crack a smile, and a little too tender “aww, Ghostie.” Gets breathed.

He comes back around to face Soap, handing him his MRE with a plastic fork sticking out of it, stream curling from the packet. He can smell the curry chicken and he almost sobs.

“You got me my favourite?”

“Don’t sound so emotional, Sargent. It just happened to be in my bag.”

Ghost plops down onto the couch and pulls off his mask to scarf down his bag, barely stopping for a breath.

Soap chuckles. “Goddamn animal..” He ignores the way his ears feel hot and his chest feels itchy, just holding the packet in his hands.

He fidgets around with it, letting the heat seep into the palms of his hands, wondering how long it would last, if it would stay there forever, cupped in his skin, his bones. Wonders if he could press it to his chest and the heat would spread throughout his body, into his head. If he ate the food would it warm him from the inside out, would it taste as delicious as how Ghost’s considerations made him feel?

“Jesus Christ just eat the fuckin’ food Johnny, before it gets cold.” Ghost grumbles, speech a bit muffled due to the food in his mouth.

He giggles before picking up the fork, scooping up some of the rice and shoving it in his mouth. He lets out an appreciative hum, scooping up more rice and chicken, stuffing more and more into his mouth.

Eventually, Johnny slides from the armrest to the actual couch cushions, tossing the empty packet onto the table with a content sigh. Ghost had resorted to staring out the window now, arms resting on his knees with his hands clasped together as if deep in thought. The Scot lays his head back on the cushions, closing his eyes for a bit. He doesnt want to disrupt the silent peace they have going on right now.

“Soap.”

“Hmm?”

“Let me check your stitches.”

He opens one eye to look at Ghost.

“Mkay.”

Before he could shift his body towards him though, Ghost already slipped to the floor, sitting cross-legged in front of soap’s legs.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s easier this way. I don’t want you to turn any more than you have to. This’ll be quick.” he says, like Soap isn’t currently fighting for the air to go into his lungs at the way he just with no hesitation start to go for the hem of his shirt.

“Jesus, okay! Fine, i can do it myself.” He grumbles, slapping Ghost’s hand away before quickly pulling his shirt off.

Now, it isn’t the first time Ghost has touched him, nor will it be the last. For fuck’s sakes, he was screaming in anguish just less than 25 hours ago, and Ghost was touching him in the exact same spot. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t physical contact for the sake of keeping all his organs intact, it was more out of concern for his safety. It is also a helluva lot more intimate the last few times they’d touched. (Not like he was keeping count) The moonlight hits him from the back of his head, making his brown eyes shine in the dark. He always looked like he was on the verge of tears, Soap noted a long time ago. They were constantly glassy, waterline reddish-pink an eyelashes longer than a damn horse. His pupils always looked intense and scary, black in the sunlight, caramel in the moonlight. Soap’s sweating now, more so that he’s actively pinning Soap under that stare, watching for any painful expression.

As he reached forward, big bastard he is, knocks his knees apart so that he’s more in between his legs than in front of them. Johnny breathes. His ears are definitely red now.

The first touch felt more like a jolt than anything, cold fingertips pressing into his side.

“Fuck, Ghost, you don’t have any blood in ya?” Johnny cracks a nervous smile, trying to lighten the mood. Ghost doesnt reply, eyes now trained on his midriff.

His left hand cups his waist, their contrasting temperatures slowly making its way to even themselves out. Soap can’t help but shiver, Ghost suddenly whipping his hand away like he’d burned him. He blinks, looking up at Johnny.

“Sorry.”

“S’ okay, sir. Just didn’t know you have the touch of an ice princess.”

He slaps his ribs, pretty eyes narrowing as he focuses on his stitches again. His left hand comes back to cup his waist, thumb right above the stitches. His right thumb is below the wound, hand resting on his belly, pinkie on his military-issued shorts.

In all honesty, Johnny’s completely losing it. The touch is like liquid nectar spread across his middle, settling under his ribs and squeezing his lungs. He feels indulgent, gluttony taking in the form of Ghost’s touch. It’s so much more than he’s expected it to be, and he feels a bit light headed. The thumb tracing so, so carefully along the uneven stitches almost feels like it could be mistaken for care, for love. Johnny’s light headed, and his limbs feel heavy like it turned into lead. It felt feather light, and all too special. Like if Soap wasn’t completely honed in on whatever the hell is happening right now, the moment would slip away and he would regret it for the rest of his life. So he savours. He memorises the touch pads of ghost’s fingertips against his skin, the light framing his body, his eyes fixated on the stitches. Fuck, fuck. What Soap would give to feel like this all the time.

In spite of his internal turmoil, Ghost looks up at him, eyelashes fluttering.

“You good?”

Johnny swallows, Ghost’s eyes following the motion.

“Yeah- yeah I’m good.”

please touch me more. please hug me. please cup my face and touch me as gently as you do for my wounds. please take care of me. please care.

Soap’s flushing hot now, he doesn’t need to look in a mirror to know. Ghost’s eyes hone in on him, pupils trained onto his body for what, soap doesnt even know. He tries to look as normal as possible with your CO’s hands on him so warm, so gently, like he belongs there.

Whatever Ghost is looking for, he finds as he sighs softly, letting his hands drop and now resting on his hips.

God fucking damn it Ghost is driving him crazy

“You got any siblings?” His hands absentmindedly squeeze him, and Soap mentally checks out. He’s done. He’s actually dying. This is heaven. Or hell. Either way, he doesn’t ever want to leave.

“Two sisters.” He manages to squeeze out as much as he can without his body moving. He’s tuned in with every nerve, so, so scared that if he moves Ghost will take away his hands.

“Youngest?”

“Mhm.”

“Can tell.”

“Haud yer wheest.” He grumbles, looking at anywhere but Ghost. Why hasn’t he moved yet?

“Tell me about them.”

Johnny scrambles for any kind of information on his sisters to tell him.

“Well- uh. Marjorie is my oldest. Uh- oldest sister. She hates her name. Has a bubbling little husband little ways from our home. Lovely guy, has no backbone. Honestly could not tell you how he managed to bag my sister. He even says it’s a miracle, heh.” The more he talks, the more he relaxes. “Middle sister, Gwyneth, she.. uh. She has a little rascal running around at home. Little runt, that kid. Fuckin’ love her.”

“Sounds like your mom has a knack for naming her kids.”

“Yeah right, imagine a Marjorie, Gwyneth and then just John.” He shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Lame name.”

“It’s a okay name.”

“Ghost, i can literally name you 10 guys I’ve met with the same name as me. Our captain is named John.”

“Yeah you’re right there. John is a shit name.”

“Shut up!” Johnny giggles, raising his hand as if he was gonna hit Ghost.

“It’s better than Simon.”

A pause. “What’s wrong wit Simon? Right bonnie name, there.”

Even with the darkness, Johnny can feel Ghost’s eyebrow raising.

“Am’ serious! Simon…. Yeah, it’s a good name. Solid.”

He huffs, as if not believing it, one of his thumbs tracing patterns absentmindedly on the soft part of his midriff .

“Who wouldn’t love a Simon in their life, hm?” Soap hums, tapping the cheekbone of Simon’s mask with a finger.

“Simon.” He whispers again, just for good measure, and Ghost looks up at him, eyes shining so, so brightly. He looks almost wistful, hopeful if he looks too much into it. The hands at his hips squeeze.

Fuck.

“Simon.”

I love you.

I love you so much I can’t bear it sometimes.

Johnny says nothing else.

“We should probably go sleep now. We have to get up in less than 5 hours.” He whispers.

Ghost hums an agreement, but neither of them move for a long time.

“Okay.” Ghost mumbles, breaking the spell first. He climbs up to his feet and looks down at johnny one last time, hooking an index finger to his chin. “I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” Johnny can feel the rumble deep in his chest. He doesn’t reply, only nods as he watches Ghost disappear down the hallway.

Once he’s out of sight, Soap buries his face in his hands and groans softly. God, his whole body is alight. How’s he ever gonna sleep now? How’s he going to move on with his life knowing how ghost’s hands felt on his waist, his hips, his chin? His face feels hot, and he scratches at his chest, wringing his shirt he picked up in his hands nervously.

He lays his head back, staring at the water stains on the ceiling.

He’s fucked.

[verdart]

I made the unfortunate decision to comment on a tiktok saying

"Blitz has every right to doubt Stolas' intentions and I will di on this hill defending Blitz"

Which made me actually realize in the context of Stolitz how much the fandom vilifies Blitz.

Upon rewatch I realized that he is actually kinda innocent lmao. So here comes the rant hop on in Verda rants at 4am again train.

The thing is first of all we need to work our media literacy muscles. So Stolas stans who think he is a uwu babygirl that dod nothing wrong repeat after me. "Blitz didn't watch "just look my way", "owl in a cage" or any other Stolas longing scene that we cried over"

Now that thats setteled I don't want to hear any "he is trying" bs because as of now (pre full moon s2e8) he hasn't actually done anything that Blitz is aware.

Lets start from the top my initial comment was about how Stolas treated him for so long before actually catching the feelings and how Blitz has a right to think he is not genuine.

Up top lest start with the condescending pet names and I won't be hearing Blitz cant be mad at that Stolas does it bc he thinks he likes it... jesus okay s2e1 when stolas starts the imp dirty talk what does blitz do a) encourage him b) get naked and dtf bc that was hot, c) shuts him up

Ding ding ding C. Stolas can still take this as bedtime play sure but we have a case for Blitz not liking it from day one. Other than that we all know he views Stolas' (perhaps in his mind endearing) pet names as condescention.

Secondly even if we ignore the power imbalance Stolas is the one to suggest the transactional fucking... s1e1 even tho in the forst time it was Blitz's doing, sorta. So don't at me saying well Blitz just uses him for the grimoire, like girly duh that was the premise. But Stolas also uses Blitz. Imo lending a book vs fucking in payment is a bot excessive but for Blitz's case beggars cant be chosers.

Now to the elephant in the room... Ozzie's. Does Blitz invite him (Stolas) purely out of selfish intentions that has nothing to do with him? Yes. Is he a dick? Yes. But Does Stolas hide his fucking face when he has a reality check? Yes. But then y'all be mad bc Blitz pulled his hand back.

That night Stolas was read once, Blitz was like at least 2 times... if we don't count the stuff for Stolas by proxy. He was having a hard night bro. And after Stolas invites him he is like no and Stolas respects that. Which if the show didn't add s2e2 in between it wouldve been a perfect stepping stool to get the Stolitz on healthy communication territory but that didn't happen.

I cannot for the life of me pin point when Stolas genuinely falls for Blitz. If its from day one damn it took him long enough to understand what he was doing was wrong.

Anyways we as fans can't be mad at Stolas because we know he is starting to understand the absolute power imbalance he created and the position he left Blitz in. He has realized that the thing is lets remember and repeat "Blitz is not watching the show with us". Blitz doesn't know of this sudden change of heart.

Now to adress a few meaningful interactions we have after ozzies. The fucking pixelated phone texts from s2 western energy.

Stolas apologizes but in that way that I look down upon. "Sorry if" like girl own it up anyways Blitz brushes it off and Stolas instead just goes hehe I didnt care either. Yall need relationship therapy my god. Important thing is Stolas was trying to reach out. But instead of going anything I said that made you upset etc he could've actually apologize properly for getting ashamed. Tho Blitz should also apologize for inviting him on a date for his own gain but thats another bag of worms I won't open tonight.

Other than that he has put off seeing him and doing the transactional fucking for a while. During those times. And as we know from all the phones Blitz breaks after talking to Stolas and hearing hus dirty talk he isn't too excited about. We don't exactly know if he comes or not on those nights. But he is also showm to be quite comfortable in s2e2 with the "my dick is good but its not that good" comment so maybe they do continue the arrangement... idk. Either way we know they haven't really talked.

All I am saying is that both parties of this ship are guilty af of hurting eachother and taking advantage of eachother. But as the power house of this power imbalance, Stolas needs to be held accountable. And he is doing that now!! Or will, in s2e8 and I can't wait to see how that goes. Overall, I can see totally why Blitz shuts down any signs that Stolas might actually be into him. He has a good bunch of reasons too. And as far as we've seen from the trailer we will get to hear him say it out loud as he should.

[cutebutalsostabby]

South Africa vs Israel Hearings this week

I mostly just post fandom stuff here, but for the avoidance of doubt: Free Palestine.

Later this week, the International Court of Justice will hear South Africa's claim that Israel is committing genocide against Palestine and will consider whether to grant the requested interim order. The details of this claim are publicly available here and definitely worth a read. Since it's a fairly long document however, I'll also put my attempt at a (non-lawyer, best efforts only) summary below:

Israel and South Africa are both signatories to the Genocide Convention, meaning that they must not themselves commit, incite or support genocide and that they must also enforce the prohibition on other member states. This case has been put to the ICJ, which is not a criminal court but instead responsible for resolving disputes between nations. This does not prohibit (and may even support) similar claims being submitted to the International Criminal Court (ICC) at later dates.

To meet the legal definition of "genocide", the acts must be committed with a clear genocidal intent. The accusation is therefore that Israel has a) engaged in a variety of acts that have both directly killed, injured and displaced people and which have created conditions unsuitable for life in Gaza, and b) done so with the intent of destroying, in whole or part, a nation, race or ethnic/religious group.

As of the time I write this, Al Jazeera's live tracker states that at least 23,167 Palestinians have been killed in Gaza and the West Bank since 7th October, along with 62,216 injured and more than 7,000 missing. More than half of Gaza's homes have been destroyed or damaged, and 23 of 36 hospitals are not functioning. 370 educational facilities, 104 ambulances and 203 places of worship have been damaged or destroyed. South Africa's submission further details attacks on agriculture, bakeries and etc. as further evidence of Israel rendering Gaza uninhabitable.

South Africa's submission quotes several major government and IDF representatives as evidence for the "intent" component. It also states that various efforts have been made outside of court, including contacting Israel in advance of the submission, to try to stop the claimed genocide, and that Israel has failed to adequately respond to those concerns.

Actually finding a party guilty of breaching the code may take years and a high burden of proof, however the application seeks an urgent interim order to halt the claimed genocidal acts, which can be granted on the balance of probability (i.e. whether the case has merit at face value) rather than an absolute finding of fact.

An order of this nature can however be ignored - noting for example that a similar order was previously made against Russia in regards to its invasion of Ukraine - however it could have material impacts on both the internal perception of its acts and the external support from Western nations, including the USA. It may prompt some nations to implement sanctions.

Israel have publicly stated that they will fight the claim.

The hearings are scheduled for Thursday 11th January and Friday 12 January, from 10am to 12pm local time, which looks to be 8pm AEST, 1am PST, 3am CT and 4am ET (European timezones are NOT kind to the USA, sorry). It looks like you can watch them online. And of course, you can check the news or ICJ website afterwards.

As above, even if an order is made this does not automatically result in a ceasefire - however Israel remains reliant on the support of Western nations and especially the USA, and that support may be impacted by the results. It may also help to shift media framing and public opinion. If nothing else, it'll be something new to point your local member of Parliament towards.

I'll be watching with interest. I hope you'll do the same.

[heartsaplenty]

Ren woke in a cold sweat, sitting up in a panic- grabbing at his chest. It hurt. Everything was dark, but a small amount of light came from his phone. He blinked, and then blinked again, clearing the blur from his eyes- or trying his best to. It was harder than it should have been, he felt what he could only assume was blood trying its best to drip down into them.

In front of him stood.. Something. It was too hard to see, and when his visions finally cleared a bit, whatever it was.. Was gone. He felt so cold. It took him a few tries to unlock his phone. The crack in the screen sure didn't help. Neither did the glitching, but he still managed to open his messages, after getting bombarded with a metric ton of notification buzzes. The clock on it read 4am.

4 hours..

He sent a quick message to Akechi, ignoring the pain. There was just no time for backreading.

REN: Hello? Am I here? Can you get this..

He was too tired to work on getting kanji to work on the keyboard.

AKECHI: You. Where have you been?

AKECHI: Why are you talking like a five year old? Are you drunk?

REN: What. No. Something happened. Injured.

AKECHI: You didn't think to message earlier? No alarm bells in your brain to report this when it actually happened?

REN: No.. Passed out. Just woke up. At the university.

AKECHI: ... You idiot. I'll be right there. If you so much as protest my help again, I won't hesitate to knock you out myself. Do you understand?

REN: ...Yes.

Really, Akechi didn't have to worry about that, because whatever had caused the spike of adrenaline, it was wearing off fast.

He at least scooted himself back against the hallway wall for something to lean on, wiping at his forehear with a sleeve. Things were getting dark again. It wasn't going to hurt to close his eyes..

-----------

When they opened again, he was staring up at a set of flourescent lights. He squinted against them, once again sitting up-

Or.. Tried to. This time, he was stopped by the tip of an umbrella. He looked down at it, then over to it's owner. Akechi stared him down with hard, red eyes. His hair was pulled back into a little ponytail. It looked nice on him.

"What do you think you're trying to do?"

"... Sit up?"

The umbrella tip jabbed at his chest, forcing him back down. Ren raised his hands in surrender.

"Fine.."

"That's what I thought. Are you going to tell me why you were passed out in a pool of your own blood? Or am I going to have to make you?"

Joker met his eyes. He didn't have his glasses on. Those steely grey met red and held the gaze.

"Spoiler alert, I won't be nice about it."

Ren's gaze finally slipped, giving in first. At this point, his mind was sharpened enough to realize that he was at a hospital. More specifically, he was a patient at a hospital. His eyes gazed down to his arm. No fuzz..

From beside him, another voice spoke. It startled him so bad, he jumped just a tiny bit.

"As much as I do agree in my anger at his actions, I'm really not sure how much an interrogation is going to get you answers from a sick man faster."

His head turned, it was Yusuke. On a monday..

"I don't hear you coming up with any better ideas." Akechi scoffed back, pulling the umbrella once more over to his side.

"He's so stuck in his own head, I'm not even sure anything but an interrogation will get it out of him."

"Nonsense," Fox scoffed, sliding forward a bit in his chair. Ren was still staring at him, and now he stared back. "Come now, Ren. Will you tell us why you were at your school in a puddle of blood?"

Ren continued to stay silent. Akechi laughed.

"What did I tell you."

Why did they need to know so badly now? His head was pounding. Chest still hurt. While the two bickered, Ren looked around for his phone.

"Looking for this?" Akechi asked, and Ren looked over to see him dangling his phone from his fingertips. In this lighting, it was easy to see how damaged the device had gotten.

"I'll give it back.. If you start talking."

"Fine. Stayed late to check on a ghost story.. Something hit me hard some time past midnight. Woke up and messaged you. All I really remember."

"A ghost story? In a university? Hm.. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but yet I still am. I have to wonder if it was the theatrics students who spread such a thing."

Ren stayed quiet. Normally, he loved to goad Fox on in his thoughts. Not right now though.

Neither did Akechi, but that one wasn't new.

"A ghost story. Are you trying to tell me you got injured chasing after ghosts?"

Ren nodded. Crow wasn't wrong.

"Then is it safe to assume you found one?"

Ren's head turned a bit back to Yusuke.

"Yes. Found something. Not crazy.. Could exist. Like us.."

Akechi leaned a bit on the umbrella. His eyes were still a little more on the callous side. Ren had a lot of apologizing to do later. He walked over, closer to the bedside, and took one of Joker's hands in his own.

"Your daftness pisses me off, Ren. You went into that which would have taken a team of misfits in the past to be safe. All the while, your friends and I had no idea at all."

"Teamwork is something you strive for in every aspect of your life. Yet, apparently, when it comes to something that could get you hurt, you now run away from asking for help like a flea-ridden puppy with its tail between its legs."

Ren winced away from that.

"Sorry... Had a fever. Wasn't thinking straight."

"It looks like he still does have one, so I think that's enough of this for tonight."

Fox stood up, crossing his arms. "There are easier ways to say that you were worried. Better ones, even. You still lack a bit of empathy when you speak."

Now it was Fox and Crow's turn to glare at each other. Ren found himself nodding off again, without even realizing it.

------

When he woke up, Akechi was gone. Ren could feel his heart wrenching. He would have a lot to talk to him about later.

As mad as he was, he deserved to be. Joker really didn't know what he had been doing. More than that, he had been so sure of himself that nothing bad was going to happen from chasing after what was probably a rumor started by a student or two.

"Awake again, I see. Are you feeling any better?"

He was feeling worse. He hadn't even been awake that long and he felt like his was burning up.

"Ren.."

Ren looked over again, actually able to sit up this time. Next to him, his phone. Akechi had left it after all.

"Do you feel well enough to talk? We have a bit of time to ourself. Akechi and Morgana went to get you some better food than what they tried to bring you. He threw a fit large enough that you could have thrown it all at an entire large canvas and it would still hit the wall behind it."

[viscountessevie]

Do you think JQ cares at all at how her characters (and to an extent the actors too with the promo and stuff) are treated or does she only care about the money? I mean they already did huge changes and they will probably do more going forward. As an artist myself I would find it disheartening how something I created would be taken apart so much that it barely resembles my own work. And also how does she feel about all her fans response to the season 2 disaster? There was a lot of complaining on her insta posts about what they did to Kate and Edwina (especially on her video post about the sister soulmate stuff). Okay yes she signed off all rights, if one should do that is another debate (i wouldn’t ) but do you think she regrets it? Because it doesn’t feel that way. Makes me resent her a bit tbh.

Ask Dated: 31st July 2022

I can't quite remember what may have prompted this ask but probably them feeling the same way I felt about S2.

While yes Simone and Jonny's chemistry and some acting choices/scene and tone changes saved the season, I still felt robbed of my favourite lines and scenes from the book not being adapted. And of course how they massacred my favourite book family, The Sheffields/Sharmas. We really could have seen a healthy and loving Indian family of women instead we got the same toxic shit I grew up in.

Anyway, to answer your main question anon, I have a feeling the Netflix/Shondaland check was big enough for JQ to sell her soul and writer's integrity. If she did care, she hasn't shown it one bit. Or alternatively her lack of enthusiasm for Kate, The Sharmas and Kathony now that Kate is an Indian woman, can be a sign of expressing her disappointment in the colour blind cast. I mean before the show was announced (and old time Bton fans feel free to correct me), Kathony (and TVWLM) and Polin (and RMB) were her favourite couples and books to hype up. Ever since Simone was announced as Kate, she did the bare minimum talking about her and has ignored Kate in favour of her fave and only white tv couple (so far). So take what you will from that.

There are a few articles out here where JQ kind of does mental gymnastics to justify all the big changes to S2 which I thought were cop out answers. [Note: it is almost 4am as I am writing this and I am a little tired to find for her exact quotes but if I come across them I'll link at a later time but for now Google is your bestie!]

I did find that she stipulating that *only* the Pall Mall scene could not be changed at all, really dumb in hindsight. Because the way they shot and edited that scene was super lame (there was barely any tension visually - Jimone was carrying the tension and rivalry of the scene and match) and there was SO MANY MORE important scenes and characterisations that made TVWLM so popular and beloved and nothing else mattered to her???

I will admit; while I LOVE the OG Bee Scene, I liked the new one too. I just wish they had gotten married earlier. Also of course the new accident scene is superior. But it still does not make up for how badly they fumbled the Sharmas, cutting out their backstories and then giving away an whole useless hour to the Featherflops. DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED ON THE TWO WEDDINGS THAT WEREN'T EVEN KATE'S!!!

I really wanna know how much she was paid to just go along with everything because even Rick Riordan was able to express his disdain with the Percy Jackson movies!! I think at this point, its safe to say its enough money to make her turn a blind eye to all the horrid changes and not regret anything. It even is enough to make her eat her words about not being able to write characters of colour (will expand more in the next ask) but now suddenly after all these years, she can write a romance novel centred on a Black heroine. I guess characters of colour are only worth writing if she can profit off them. It makes me resent her too anon. 

[phoebeyates-archive]

location: providence peak + boulder, colorado

date: 25th august - 11th september 2023

(tw: mentions of anxiety, depression, panic attacks, violence/temper, destruction of property, toxic family dynamics)

It started with a cryptic text.

Call you Friday, coming from the woman who had been evading her daughter’s attempts at communication from the last few months. Phoebe didn’t think to believe it, though it made her head hurt slightly. But she kept her head down, focused on work, seeing her friends, ignoring the unhealthy amount of Nerds Rope wrappers in the trash. Stress eating was normal, she wasn’t going to feel guilty for that.

Then Friday came. And the phone rang. And her mom was on the other side, sounding rested and healthy and, to the ire of Phoebe who had spent a good chunk of her summer worrying, happy.

“Where have you been?!” Phoebe had demanded over her mother’s laissez faire “Guess where I am?!”

“Boulder!” She cheered, as the irritated brunette snapped “where?”, her heart immediately plummetting at the reveal.

“Oh,” All the bite in her voice suddenly ceded, and she sounded all but 12 again. “When did you, uh, get back?”

“About a week, hon,” Lisa said, either uncaring or unaware of her daughter’s deflation in mood. “I was going to get in touch sooner but we had details to sort.” It always irked Phoebe how her mom used faux-European pronunciation on words that didn’t need it.

“We? Details?” She asked, ignoring the tears in her eyes at the knowledge that her mom had been in fucking Colorado for over a week and only now got in touch.

“Oh, sweetie, it feels so wrong giving you this news on the phone but, Ian and I are getting married next Saturday. You’ll come right?”

“Ian? Who’s…in Boulder?” Phoebe was glad she had been lounging on her bed when the phone call came. If she had been stood, she probably would have collapsed by now. The room was already feeling a lot warmer, her chest beginning to heave as it seemingly struggled for air.

“Yes.” Lisa dragged the word out, breaking it into two syllables, and Phoebe could picture her there laid out on a sun lounger somewhere, clinging onto the sorority girl cheerleader persona ruined by her accidental not-quite teen pregnancy. “Phoebe, it’d mean so much if you come. You don’t even need to get a flight, it’s just Boulder.”

Phoebe felt like reminding her mom she had never left the city limits of Providence Peak but thought better of it, out of fear she’d be accused of being difficult. So instead she asked all the right questions; the address, how long she had to be there. Wedding theme. What Ian was like.

It would be cancelled anyway.

Except it wasn’t, and after getting time off approved by Asli, Phoebe packed a suitcase and prayed to a God she didn’t fully believe in that Earl would make it to Boulder without incident, wishing she checked the brake pads beforehand. The drive to Boulder was daunting, and she wished she told someone where she was going, what she was doing. How this town had been the furthest she had ever been from home.

It escalated with a sledgehammer to the wall.

Boulder had been a nice place, many similarities to Providence Peak whilst also having its unique identity. Ian seemed nice enough, but all of her mother’s boyfriends did at the beginning. But it was alarming to her how this man; pushing 60, widowed, no kids, was trying to speed up the process of the nuptials.

They had met in Germany, after Lisa ended things with her last boyfriend, Carl. He had been at the airport bar the day she was supposed to board the plane. He was the reason Phoebe looked foolish at 4am in the airport arrivals, with no one to collect. They had bonded over being Colorado natives unlucky in love, though Phoebe bit her tongue knowing full well Lisa had moved to Colorado for college, originally hailing from Utah.

What Phoebe didn’t bite her tongue about was her mother’s indifference to the hell Phoebe had been put through when it came to the house. How taking out a bigger mortgage to fund her lifestyle had Phoebe struggling to pay the bills, on top of trying to control the heaps of debt the house was in. How the bank has given her a grace period to come up with the money or sell it herself, but she didn’t have the former, or the time or money for the latter.

The argument escalated, and Phoebe may have called Lisa a bad mother. And Lisa may have called Phoebe a deranged selfish brat who constantly made everything negative and ruined her life. And then Phoebe drove back to Providence Peak, sardonically wishing Ian the best and definitely telling her mother to royally fuck herself.

She couldn’t remember getting back to the house, she couldn’t remember drinking a full bottle of wine, and several shots of Scotch from a bottle tucked into the back corner of the otherwise empty pantry. She couldn’t remember grabbing the sledgehammer from the toolbox and swinging it wildly, screaming until her lungs gave out and she collapsed in a pile, sobbing uncontrollably, voice hoarse and throat raw.

When she came to, when she saw the damage that had been done, she felt the guilt and shame wash over her for what felt like a full day. She knew she couldn’t stay here, for a myriad of reasons. And she debated calling someone. Aslihan, Sage, Nadia. But she didn’t want them to see this, to show them the real her: violent, out of control. Deranged. Pathetic.

So instead, she stepped through the mess in a haze, grabbing the unpacked suitcase that stood abandoned by the door. And left it behind.

Phoebe debated getting a hotel in town, changing her mind on the off chance she’d bump into someone she’d know. Opting for a motel just outside city limits, she decided to camp out there for the remainder of her paid vacation, to just think of what to do with the mess she had made.

Her fingers were all cut and bruised. Even her face managed to get caught from the debris falling around her as she swung at the walls and the tacky furniture that sat in her living room for over 20 years. It wasn’t anything major, superficial damage at best. A scratch on her cheek that was no bigger than a dime once she scrubbed the dried blood from her face. It’d be gone by next week.

She just wished she could say the same for the loneliness and anxiety that clung to her like a spider web as she laid in the uncomfortable motel bed that night.

It ended with a morning alarm clock.

Her first day back at work. Her first day back in civilization. Her first day back at the ruins of her childhood home.

And Phoebe Yates would do what Phoebe Yates did best.

Survive.

[freq13diary]

I had promised myself I’d stop writing like this, but today was full of so many mixed feelings.

For a couple of weeks now, sometimes I wake up spontaneously, still deeply asleep, and some kind of signal comes to me—like an outside energy—and it makes me open my eyes instantly when I get that signal, or however you wanna call it.

It’s rarely at the same time, it always changes. That’s made me curious since I’m lucky to sleep deeply without interruption, but these last few days haven’t been like that.

These lines weren’t planned, I just felt the need to share what I experienced. Today that intense call came at 4am sharp, something was telling me I had to check my tasks. But, at this hour? I thought, “One more hour before I get up,” but something kept insisting.

So I did what I had to and realized something. Maybe I’m becoming a heavy burden for the person I love. I don’t blame her, it’s my nature. Things just happen like that.

I don’t want to push her away or anything like that, but I thought about stopping writing letters about things that might not make sense. So I decided and showed her the last memories I saved for her. It was brief, super symbolic, but I think she got it.

Honestly, I started worrying about her because I feel a kind of distance, like an emotional barrier, maybe she’s going through a big change in her life and I’m not helping much. I put myself in her shoes for a moment and realized I was rushing things too fast. Without meaning to, I was reflecting my own reality onto the most important person to me, and I can’t tolerate that.

We were taught to process and channel situations and emotions effectively and quickly. Like healing childhood stuff in less than two hours. Before, feelings were ignored — you had to keep going or die on the battlefield.

Over time, it became clear that in extreme situations, keeping a cool head means carrying less emotional weight. You have to evaluate yourself completely, focusing only on the heaviest stuff.

Okay, childhood problems — analyze, focus, redirect, and act.

Damn! When you’re really focused, you can do it surprisingly well, physical tiredness is key. When you’re broken physically, your mindset is all you got, and under pressure you reveal who you really are — again, analyze, focus, redirect, execute.

I got this, this bothers me — you concentrate it from its origin with the right questions: is it your problem or something uncontrollable? Okay, then they give you the solution to get it out of your system, a fast healing process, with breathing techniques for high-risk situations because the experience feels the same.

Your body’s not in danger; it’s your mind taking the psychological hit.

Alright, 10, 15, 20 minutes to process what you feel. Just be honest and sincere, and when it’s done, get up and keep going. Crazy, but it works.

Afterwards, you realize you’re more sensitive to your surroundings and can respond without doubts.

Yeah, it’s a damn inhuman madness, but this isn’t traditional therapy — this is out of the ordinary. Depending on the person, the process takes more or less than an hour and they guide you, but in the end, it’s just you deciding if you keep going or quit.

The point is, I never realized I was making her keep up with me at a fast pace.

Since I met her, I’ve questioned whether it’s worth continuing with these kinds of processes — always tested every minute, every second, it never ends.

I tried to keep it from crossing the line, but I never truly empathized with her real position. It was never intentional, but the speed I’m used to isn’t normal or common.

So I decided to end it, and just today, after talking with Dan and Mike, I went to submit my resignation papers.

Which brings me back to what I experienced with Dan and Mike. Dan said some words that echoed in my mind.

In the morning, at 6am, I was restless about my decision, but I wouldn’t let it affect what I love the most. So whenever I doubt, I always consult the book of life.

I found two signs but didn’t give them much importance, I just found the answer I was looking for and moved on.

The first sign spoke of the current world chaos — I thought, yeah, we live in madness, but maybe this isn’t for me. Hundreds of pages later, it told me to keep going and leave everything behind.

Perfect, so I got to work to get everything ready.

With only 2 hours of sleep, I started feeling the effects of tiredness. And since I don’t drink coffee, the intensity shot up.

Then Dan and Mike arrived, and you already know the story.

Dan left me reflecting again, so before handing in my final resignation, I went to rest a bit under a tree and something pushed me to get up after just over 20 minutes of deep sleep.

“Come on, check your tasks,” again? Okay, I just obeyed that inner impulse, and that’s when everything aligned.

The signs from the book of life weren’t wrong, plus Dan’s words, and I realized the Middle East conflict, and then she appeared.

Dan said, “Adjust your frequency and sync,” now it all made sense. I’d been ignoring so many things.

Sometimes constant physical and mental fatigue can make you hallucinate, but after going through the selection process, you develop a kind of sixth sense — it’s not madness, you just have to know how to listen, feel, and observe.

Her, the Middle East, and the last sign, again the light.

I felt like we’d regressed the night before, that she would just continue doing what she does best.

That was maybe my impression seeing her again — my girl from days ago had wrapped herself again in her armor.

I didn’t blame her — in the end, I caused that mess.

So I decided to keep going, but all this pushed me back.

She came back in an act full of meaning.

It made me reflect that sometimes you don’t need to save people by forcing them, by showing them what’s best for them.

You just have to be there, and they have to decide.

Dan’s words came back: “You should look for a diamond because a quartz won’t hold up,” referencing his idea of stones and energy frequencies and stuff like that.

That’s when my admiration and love for her multiplied.

Then I dove into another scene where every person whose funeral I attended in recent months showed up, each asking, “How long will you keep fighting? How long?”

I answered, never, and repeated like a recorder the motto: if death surprises us, then it will be welcome.

They kept asking, “How long will you keep fighting?”

So I thought a bit, and one by one those people I buried, family, friends, and acquaintances made me realize my fight was against what I felt.

Here I remember judging them for their weak mentality and giving up without fighting, so I understood that if I really want you to be with me in my life, I have to stop fighting with everything I feel.

The idea of controlling everything keeps me safe, but you make me lose control of everything.

And I can only love you freely, and I don’t want to split you into two parts because I want you whole — with light and shadows.

Maybe I focused too much on the wonder of your shadows and neglected your light.

But they’re right — I don’t want to fight anymore for what I feel for you.

So, this might sound crazy, but the only thing I know for sure is that I want you in my life, being yourself with your duality.

Dan was right, things fall into place while you move.

I’ve come to this point where I don’t know what else to do — I’ll just stay with you by my own choice.

And I’ll keep moving to see where we can intersect.

Today they gave me my final discharge, I only have to serve until August and then I’ll be free.

I just want you to know it was never my intention to pressure or control you, much less to play with something as important to me as your heart.

But I understand there must be a process, and it’s not easy in your position.

So I’ll just stay with you, I won’t leave because my home is only with you.

Keep doing what you have to do until you decide to let me in, not only with your shadows but also with your light, complete and being yourself.

What belongs to you.

P.S.

Thanks for showing me a different kind of service — the most intimate one: just visiting and being there. I only knew how to go in, rescue, and get out… but I never really stayed to just be with someone.

And I realized that sometimes, showing up and being there with your whole heart is the most powerful thing you can do.

[kuro4thegays]

hey baby its me. 4am and i just laid on my bed- just saw your notification. thanks for all of your responses (and the cute tag). i actually want to dm you, i've had that thought for a while. but hehe, you might not notice. you only allow people who you follow dm so.. 🫂 i mean it's fine, dw, i hope today's sleep will be better. i can relate to you on the personal level so, i get what you want to say. normally im too insecure and scared that i will become a burden, so i rarely share anything whenever someone new comes into my life. i keep posting on my wall like talking to myself and saving the ideas or memories for my own liking. they also rarely check because yes we all have own lives to care for. but whenever someone goes through all the shit i post they will text me like "dude you're funny and talkative and negatively calm" 👾 mhm, yeh i dont usually come to anyone when i have problems with mentality or panic attacks. you made me feel safe, cared and appreciated. i hate it the most when i try to connect but they just ignore my words, like i don't weight anything. well so.. i go away from them. too many times that now im used to losing "friends". idk, im kind of scared i might lose you if i text you instead of sending in 1 ask a day anonymously. anyway, thanks for all the words you wrote for me to resonate with my feeling. love you. wish you a good day and night 🐰

Sorry, my fault. I fixed the dm issue. You don't have to if you're uncomfortable, but the option is there if you ever want to chat privately.

I've lost so many friends at this point that I don't really expect anyone to stay tbh. I'm always just waiting for the day I'll say something that will be too weird for them and that they'll leave. I guess that I learned to be self reliant at least.

Forgot to mention, but I have good news for you. I've got the whole plot for the Aventurine fic planned out. About 7 chapters, started writing the first one yesterday.

[grrrrrarro]

Heya :3

Could you do something where the Sinclair Brothers, Brahms, Billy Lenz give flowers to their s/o? (She/her pronouns use, please!)

Thank you! Have a good day/night

Aww cute idea🥰 i did similar before, with s/o giving them flowercrowns so i recomend checking it out!!

She/her, sfw, Request Open

Slashers giving flowers to their s/o

Bo Sinclair

Will give her little buquet of red roses and say something corny like "sure those flowes are pretty but you are way prettier"

Expects smooches and complements after giving her flowers

He had to drive to another city to get them cuz theres no flowershops in Ambrose

Lester Sinclair

Dude probably was doing his job, driving and dumping some animal carcas when he saw pretty meadow full of flowers, and he got as muc has posible and put them in truck (the truck was clean dont worry)

He gonna cary this huge pile of flowers to her and be like "i know its not much but their reminded me of you🥺"

Corny asf

The flowers look and smell wonderful

Vincent Sinclair

Bros will give her one singular flower

Tbh he seems like person who enjoyd gardening so it might be possible that he grew this little flower himself!

Bonus points if he gave her alive flower in pot! Yall can name it, take care of it, anything really

Billy Lenz

He either stole them from some girl he was stalking or he just found it growing in somones garden and just casually took it

Wont even clean his hands, just take flower from ground and run to home "billy has gift! Pretty gift"

When s/o gives him smooches and kind words he gonna bring more flowers next time! Loves when she puts those flowers in vase on table so they can stay alive more time👽 loves the compasion

Live laugh love billy lenz

Brahms Heelshire

100% allergic to pollen

This dude will die faster than go outside

But if s/o really likes flowers he will agree to have one room that she can put pots and other gardening stuff there?? But only becasue he doesnt want her to get out of home! He rather be sneezing than worring about her disapearing

Likes how flowers look and loves to dry them!

Dry flowers dont produce pollen so he is okay with them

Micheal Myers

...

Our guy will come home at 4am, covered in blood, wake her up, ignore her questioning him about anything, and just give her lil flower he found in middle of nowhere. Thats all you can go back to sleep now

Will expect her to thank him and be all like "omg thanky babi that's so nice of you"🙄

Robbed flowershop once

[miwaqrsp]

A hell of a ride (Ghost x AFAB!Reader)

A/N: I just read like moments ago a pregnancy fanfic abt König and now I wanna write one abt Ghost since I’m a Ghost girlie. So yea

Summary: Reader gives birth. That’s it thats the summary. Btw heavy on swearing and details so if ya don’t like that, go read the original creators post and follow ‘em <3

Warnings: heavy language, slight gore, pregnancy bs, childbirth, mentions of slight trauma

———

Simon was having a nightmare. A vision, to be exact. He had a dream where you were in labor. Screaming on top of your lungs begging for the child to come out already. He had a dream where you finally after so many agonizing hours gave him your first child. His first child. The doctors said that you were too exhausted. And there might be a 70-30 ratio of your survival since you exhausted yourself too much. He dreamt of you dying at childbirth. Leaving him alone, with his newborn child in arms.

When he woke up in a pool of sweat. He quickly turned around to check your side of the bed hoping you were there. You were. Except for you were sitting up on the edge of the bed. Softly grunting. “3:47am”you said softly. “W-what” your husband questioned. “Around 3:47am I think my water broke. You still got good timing. You’re not late” you said slightly turning around and softly smiling at your husband. Simon quickly turned over to pick up his watch to loom at it. Exactly 4am. FUCK. He scooted over to you and rubbed your back slowly while looking at you with a very worrisome look on his face. You gravitated along with the movement of Simons arm on your back. Rocking from left to right slowly. Gripping the side of the bed and grunting ever so slightly with slight sheet of sweat covering your face and body.

Simon knew, it was time. He bulleted out of bed and quickly got dressed. Helping you slowly with every step. Sooner of later he would get impatient seeing how with every step you would moan in agony and tremble a bit. He picked you up carefully and hurried his way to his truck. Placing you in it like as if you were made of porcelain.

On the way to the hospital he would glance at you to check on how you’re holding up. He saw how people lost their lives, arms, legs, limbs, organs even on battlefield. He saw and went through some of the worst things imaginable and yet, this is the moment where anxiety was eating him whole. The entire time he was thinking about his dream, about you and the kid, what would happen to you and the kid. Would you survive? Would the kid? What if both lives were put to a line? He would definitely choose you to survive since he’s known you longer and loved you way more. But at this moment. These questions were eating him whole. The grunts, moans of agony, hearing how you gripped the fabric of whatever your hands could latch onto, slight screams, huffing, seeing how much you sweated and in how much agony you were was killing him. He tried to take his mind off the situation at least a bit so that you two could get safely to the hospital. It somewhat did.

When you two, technically three, got there. The nurses refused to let you in saying you came “too late” and that “there isn’t anymore space left for another patient.” Simon had enough. He threatened them to take you in, begged them, whatever, just to let you give birth to his child safely. Eventually after what seemed like forever. They did. They hooked you up to the monitors and whatnot. Gave you an epidural and set you up for giving birth. The epidural somewhat made the pain loosen up a bit. But not much. At this point you were in tears from the pain. You were sore yet relaxed, tired but adrenaline was pumping through. You felt like you were on drugs. It was all but 29 agonizing hours in this state of fucked up euphoria that you were going through. Your baby was taking its sweet precious time with this birth. Your husband ignored any request from anyone apart from you. Staying constantly by your side, massaging your back and legs when you asked for, bringing you food and water every so often, helping you with whatever. Whilst his phone was going apeshit. You see. Today Simon was supposed to spend the entire week on base. Since the team was getting ready for a months worth long mission. He could honestly give less of a fuck about 141 and that mission when his wife was giving birth to his child. Who decided a month early to come home.

The nurses and doctors came in every so often to give you a bigger dose of pain medicine since the epidural was wearing off every so often. At this point you’re already going through a lot of bullshit. The pain from your baby kicking you and from your vagina ripping itself and now you started to feel immense pain in your lower back due to how much they were filling you up with that stupid epidural dosage. At some point you asked them to stop. Since you couldn’t take it anymore. After the 30th check up on you, the docs finally decided it was time you start pushing. They hooked you up again and started the procedure. With the breathing techniques and whatnot. You were clenching onto Simons biceps and hands that were hugging you. Squeezing them hard, whenever you felt like you needed to push. The pain was agonizing. It was killing you. You were screaming like a wounded animal, crying, begging for it to come out. At some point you started cussing. You didn’t knew what you were saying anymore. All you knew was that you wanted that thing, that child, that baby. Out. Of. You. Now. Every now and then Simon would wipe the sweat and tears off of your face and take all the hair away from your face. Silently and weakly nodding to assure that you’re thanking him for his kind gesture, you tried to look around. But you noticed your vision was blurry. Slowly rising your hand silently gesturing that you need a little break. The doctors brush it off. This went on until you snapped.

“For fucks sake! You’re not the one giving birth are you doc! Let me have a moment! Please”

You plead. The doctors calmed down a bit as the nurses came to your side to help you a bit. Bringing you to sit up right, wiping sweat, and overall trying to help. While that was happening, Simon was being told that he couldn’t be in the room anymore. Which was the exact thing he feared. He refused, ordering that he needed to stay by your side at all times. The security even intervened in order to calm him down, but they were of to no match for him. While he was outside fighting, literally fighting to get to be by your side. He was forced to hear your agonizing screams, pleads for the child to be taken out of your belly. He started to cry. Hearing his wife in such agony he couldn’t help but collapse, cry and wait for the inevitable and unfortunate reality to hit him yet again. Hearing your screams made him think about his past, when he was young, a little lad. Having to see and go through hell his dad was doing to him and his family. Then thinking about the time he met you at the old base. Thinking about the time he swore with his whole heart when his old team retrieved you back from captivity that he would sacrifice anyone in order to see you live again, even himself. He thought about the time when you were walking down the aisle in your beautiful wedding gown. Finding out you two were going to become parents. And now. Thinking about how he’s going to lose you.

•───⋅☾ ☽���─────•

About two-ish hours later. He was sitting on the bench in the waiting room outside of the operating room. Waiting. With his palms pressed together and the side knuckle of his index fingers resting on his nose and the tips of his fingers on his forehead. Cheeks still red from a couple of punches and tears from before. He was anxiously waiting for the bad news.

Eventually the doctor walks out of the room. He proceeded to stand in the middle of the door frame and signal for him to get in. Simon was shocked. The doctor didn’t have his face facing down or looked at him with a disappointing face. Simon bulleted into the room, before being stopped by the same doctor who grabbed him by his forearm “Congratulations Sir.” That’s all that the doctor said before walking completely out and closing the door behind Simon.

Simon was standing in the corner of the room where the door was just looking at you, checking just in case if you were alive. You are. With your arm extended slightly forward with a babies tiny hand grabbing onto your index finger. Simon as silently as possible got closer to both of you. Sitting by the edge of your bed where he could see the left side of your face which was leaned in the babies direction. You were glistening with sweat, hair messy and eyes tired. You were quite exhausted. No wonder why you were asleep and the doc warned him to be quite. He looked over at the babies class crib. He guessed that it was a girl since the baby was wrapped in a pink blanket. Simon slowly got up but not before kissing your forehead and moving some more hair out of your face. When he got closer he carefully picked the babe up into his calloused arms. Holding it. He chuckled softly before kissing the babe on the forehead as well. His two angels soundly sleeping after a long long night.

He slowly sat down on a couch near your bed and was still holding the babe in his arms. He started to cry. He couldn’t believe it. His two little girls alive and well. He blamed his nightmare for the source of his worries. He kissed his newborn daughter on the forehead and just cried silently.

•───⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Simon was long gone asleep. Still holding his daughter in his arms. Both of them were sleeping. You and the nurse were looking at them with awe. She came to check up on you and bring you some food. While you were eating you talked with her a bit “How are you feeling love? I know the labor was not so great.” The nurse sat by your bed and looked at you with worry while you were eating “it was one of my worst experiences ever to be honest. Y’know its not that beautiful and dandy when your child is constantly kicking you and demanding to come out” you said slightly chuckled through your sentence while you looked over at your daughter who was sleeping in your husbands arms who was softly snoring and drooling “Hm little gremlin” you turned back to your delicious food as the nurse giggled a tad bit.

“I’m sure you will make an amazing mother” she said

“Hopefully.” You signed looking at your husband and daughter again “…I hope”

•───⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A/N: if anyone wants me to make a part two I will <3333

I’ll definitely make a part two huehehehe

Btw here’s the original creator of the idea for this fanfic @lathalchiralium

Edit!!!

Here’s the link to that fanfic in question!! Please support the original creator! <333