#just trust me when I say it looks a lot worse from the outside

[totallyawesomeomens]

Well okay then

[dragonheartstring360]

Some notes for anyone writing a character with glasses, from someone who wears glasses everyday:

- glasses need to come off before changing a shirt, unless it has a really big collar. Otherwise, glasses will get ripped off by said shirt collar.

- weather will affect how well you can see out of them, especially rain. Raindrops will dot glasses and it’s like trying to drive a car in the rain without working windshield wipers. Snow sometimes does this too, but not as bad, and lots of dust kicking up will make glasses dirty and foggy. If it’s humid enough (talking like swampy, Deep South levels, weather app says “90-100% humidity”), glasses will fog up when you step outside. If it’s crazy windy, glasses can fly off and the character should hold onto them or take them off and put them somewhere safe. They’ll usually get dirty or break in a pants pocket, so maybe have character carry around a sturdy glasses case if needed.

- not all materials are good for wiping glasses off. Some shirt materials just make it worse.

- if your character’s glasses are super dirty or smudged, they will be able to see it 24/7 as they look around and it’s annoying af.

- although glasses can keep things from getting in a character’s eyes (like something that’s been sprayed), it doesn’t protect our eyes all the time, especially if it’s coming at an angle or there’s a large amount. For that, you’d need actual safety glasses or goggles (and yes, they do make prescription goggles, but they’re not cheap).

- speaking of waves, for the love of god, DO NOT have your character swim with their glasses on. At best, they’ll get wet and they won’t be able to see. At worst, if they’re forced underwater or an ocean wave smacks them in the face, they’ll fly off and/or break.

- a crack in glasses is actually annoying af and makes it very hard to see.

- if a character’s face is wet, like from sweat or a ton of rain, their glasses will continuously slide down their nose and they’ll need to keep pushing them back up.

- lots of liquids other than water will make glasses opaque.

- glasses should be fitted pretty well to a person’s head. So if the character’s face is dry or there’s a moderate amount of wind, the “legs” that go behind their ears should be tight enough that they don’t just constantly fly off or slip down their nose. If they do, they’re too big (but obviously something a tornado will make them fly off).

- although I hate the whole “they took off their glasses and now they’re a ✨ model ✨” trope, people do tend to look very different with glasses on vs off - especially a character like Harry Potter who constantly wears their glasses. It’s not unrealistic that people who don’t know the character well (or even those who do, but just aren’t as quick) won’t recognize them at first without their glasses.

- as far as I know (correct me if I’m wrong, but I’ve never been able to do this), if a lens pops out of the frames, it can’t be popped back in by non-professionals without the right tools. The glasses are just done for.

- if your character has contacts in (or this is a psa for anyone who wears contacts), DO NOT have them rub their eyes. The contact will pop out and they’re very translucent and tiny, so trust me, it will just fall and be lost forever.

- being able to see clearly out of one eye and not the other (like with a broken/missing lens or a contact falling out) causes headaches.

- glasses are expensive af in the US (idk about other places). One time when I didn’t have vision insurance, an eye exam and two frames with lenses (I have blue eyes and very extreme light sensitivity, so have to have prescription sun glasses as well as regular glasses) cost over $900USD. If you want the special frames that become tinted and basically turn into sunglasses when you walk outside, it will cost extra.

- speaking of those lenses that become tinted when you walk outside, they take awhile to fade back to normal after you go back inside. Your character needs to be prepared to still be “wearing” sunglasses for the first 5-10 minutes after they walk inside.

- if a character is wearing contacts, they can wear normal sunglasses. If not, they’ll need special prescription sunglasses to be able to see. You cannot wear prescription sunglasses with contacts in or you won’t be able to see anything. Ever tried to look through your friend’s glasses and everything’s weird and warped and giving you a headache? That’s what it will look like.

- not exactly glasses related, but people with lighter colored eyes will always have worse light sensitivity than people with darker eyes. I have very blue eyes and looking up at the sky on a sunny day will literally make me see stars, and especially if I’m driving towards the sun while it’s setting, I have to have my sunglasses on or I literally will not be able to see and tears will be leaking out my eyes the whole way home.

- speaking of prescription sunglasses, unless your character can see pretty far without their glasses or they’re far sighted, you cannot just take prescription sunglasses off and still be able to see, especially while driving. You just have to deal with it and keep the sunglasses on and look like a Matrix wannabe if it gets cloudy or starts raining, or you have to do the super speedy Dance of Death where you’re still watching the road in front of you, taking off one pair of glasses and putting the other on super fast (which usually requires you to use your mouth to open and close things).

- GLASSES ARE FRAGILE. Seriously, a very petite person could sit in them and snap them in half. They’re not something you want your character just throwing around.

- there are varying levels of how well someone can see. There’s farsightedness and nearsightedness. Some people don’t have that much trouble and can see pretty far, so only wear their glasses as needed. But some people (aka moi) can genuinely only see a few inches in front of their face. Like if I ever lost my glasses or they broke, I’d be done for. I wouldn’t be able to work or drive or do anything around the house.

- glasses need to be replaced about once a year because of possible prescription changes or sometimes lenses losing their strength and becoming harder to see through. Trying to tough it out after long enough will give your character headaches/migraines and sore eyes from eye strain.

- some mascaras (especially thick ones) will smudge glasses when the character blinks. Same with false lashes (although they’ll brush instead of smudge). Usually less intense mascaras and shorter fake lash lengths are better.

- eye makeup is harder to see with glasses on.

- please, please, PLEASE stop using the whole “omg look how much prettier/more attractive they are without their glasses” trope. Not everyone’s eyes can handle contacts and some people prefer wearing their glasses. And it makes those of us who prefer glasses or have to wear them feel like shit, especially because there aren’t a lot of characters with glasses in media who don’t become the butt of a joke (ie the one wearing glasses is the “ugly duckling” for it like in princess diaries, or like Velma from scooby doo always losing them and patting around, or people who wear glasses will always be some sort of dorky/insufferable know it all).

- glasses come in all shapes, sizes, and colors and can be used to actually enhance a character’s style! Some of them even have magnetic frames that click in place over the simple pair, so have fun using glasses to build your character’s style.

- edit to add: no one ever purposely falls asleep with their glasses on. You will crush and break them when you roll around. However, if a character does accidentally fall asleep with them on, a love interest gently taking them off so they don’t wake them up and setting them on the table next to them can be a super cute moment.

- whoops thought of some more. Hair products, especially hairspray, can be a bitch to get off glasses and doesn’t always just rinse off with water. If they’re spraying anything, including dry shampoo, the glasses have gotta come off and get out of the line of fire first.

- hair can and will get caught in the little hinge by the legs and we do occasionally not notice till we take our glasses off and rip a hair out of our heads.

- be careful when you comb or brush, cuz if the glasses legs get caught in the brush or comb, it will be ripped off our face.

Hope this helps! May the writing gods bless your work 🤓

[cod-fishing]

Thinking about Price being possessive over his boys. Not romantically or sexually (he likes to tell himself), but any time Soap starts chatting about some bear he met in a bar during leave, or Gaz mentions a girl who gave him her number, he can feel himself bristle. He tries to bury it, but it only gets worse after Las Almas, their bonds forged in far too much blood, and he struggles to bite down discouragement for any connection outside their little family.

When soap and ghost finally get together, he can’t figure out which of them he wants to throttle, but the sensation is intense nonetheless. Enough that he can’t stop himself from ordering them to his office and dressing them down so meticulously his old drill Sargent would be proud. They both look defiant. At perfect attention, military perfect in their stance, but fire in both of their eyes. It’s only when Soap, jaw clenched, demands if Price is going to transfer them that the Captain falters.

He sits heavy into his chair, and orders his boys at ease.

“I could never let go of either of you,” he finds himself gritting out through cigar smoke and choking emotions, far too unfiltered, “I just don’t want you boys to get hurt.”

He sees them soften, understanding. Not expecting a real answer, Price asks them their intentions with one another. He doesn’t want either of them to hurt the other, and while he knows they both have hearts of gold, they’ve got a lot of thorns as well. But they talk, and Soap is his usual genuine self and Ghost- Simon, really - is more honest and open than Price has seen him be ever, so…

He says okay. But keep me updated, he says. The good and the bad. They nod, and he assumes he’ll have to pry information out of them, and they move on.

Miraculously, they do keep him updated. Soap comes knocking one day, and Price asks about those reports he sent him off with and Soap says, aye, captain, got those for you, but ah…can I tell you something sweet Ghost did for me today? He’s bursting with joy when Price looks at him properly, and how can he say no to that?

Ghost, too, comes in one day, and asks to speak with the captain. Need some advice, sir. Johnny wants to take me home to his family for the holidays and I’m feeling real conflicted, he says. And they talk it out, fingers playing with the rims of their whiskey glasses. Price gets this feeling in his chest, likes he wants to reach out and trace his fingers somewhere else, but he ignores it.

It keeps happening that way, Price getting deeper and deeper in their relationship. He knows everything about the two together - almost everything. Ghost is on a solo mission one day and soap is moping, and so price pulls him into his office with the intention of getting him plastered and making him go to bed.

Instead, Johnny gets talkative. He should have known.

“God, Price, you wouldn’t believe the things he can do with his mouth. His fingers, too, lord knows where he learned it, but it’s like he took a fucking class on making me cum just from the teasing alone.”

“You’ve heard his voice captain, I mean no wonder I was creaming my pants to be with him so bad, and boy was I right. Downright evil how good it sounds during and early morning shag.”

And, even worse than all that, somehow…

“Well you know me, I like to be the best. So I told him we should start training my throat, so I can actually take his monster cock, the bastard. Did pass out the first time but we’ve been taking it slowly but surely ever since.”

And Price just…he should shut him up, but instead, he just takes it. Just lets the lad ramble about his love, like some lass back at home pinning for her deployed soldier. He hates it, he hates it, he tells himself. But he takes it for Johnny, and for Simon, and for the trust they have put in him.

And when he fists his cock in his quarters later that night, aching from being hard for so long, he can’t help but picture all those filthy things Soap told him.

Maybe, all this time, he was just jealous.

[wasteddmoondust]

pineapple || james potter

pairing: james potter x reader 1,219 words, teacher and james go on their first date! what could go wrong? a/n: can you tell i am horrible at titling my fics... somehow i just need it to relate to what happens. so uh. enjoy!

prev. chapter

You feel your heart going absolutely crazy. You know it's first-date jitters, but somehow it feels worse this time. It's nothing special, really. You try to tell yourself. Just another first date. Just like other first dates (that has turned to nothing...) And now this first date is the father of one of the children you teach. Yeah, nothing special.

After several attempts to make yourself busy by looking at your phone, you hear your name. It's James and he's walking up to you.

"First name basis already?" you ask smugly.

He chuckles, "What? Sorry, I guess I'll just call you-"

"Please don't, I hate being called that outside of work."

"Got it."

The two of you walk together and he leads you to a quaint coffee shop, James swears by the coffee made here. When the orders are made you find a seat and sit down.

"It's been a while since I've been on a date," he says, hands fidgeting with the receipt.

"Same here," you admit.

He stops playing with the receipt and furrows his brows. "Really? But I'm the parent."

"And I'm the one taking care of your kid for a whole day, 20 kids, actually."

"Huh... and you don't even meet people in the industry?"

You snort. "Unfortunately no, a lot of them are older and married with kids. There's no one to date there. Trust me, even the older teachers try to make me get on dating apps. If anything, you're doing them a favour."

He grins that grin that makes your heart do a little flip. Oh god, it's happening, huh?

"I'm happy to do that."

You continue your conversation, keeping it light with small talk. Then, a waiter comes by to give you your meal and you both thank him. James' phone dings, he checks the message and he replies to it while you patiently wait for him.

He looks back up at you and keeps his phone. "Sorry, my best friend is taking care of Harry today, he was just sending an update."

"That's alright. Is he doing okay?"

"Harry?" he asks, looking a little nervous. His arms are resting crossed on the table. "Uh- yeah. He's fine. Not so sure about Sirius. He just said he's letting Harry use his tattoos as a colouring book."

You laugh. "Yeah, I can see that. He does love to colour. Have you always wanted to be a father?"

James looks stunned, but laughs it off. "Not a normal question for the first date, is it?"

"Well since you already are one," you shrug.

James thinks for a while before answering. "Yeah... I've always wanted kids... Well I'm sure you've seen from the documents I sent to the school when Harry enrolled. I'm widowed..."

You nod, you do in fact know this, you had read through those documents for every child. Understanding their family structure and dynamics can be a big help in understanding the child and improving their development in school and at home.

"She uh- had complications at birth and didn't make it." He let out a sigh and shrugged. "So now it's just me and Harry. And I wouldn't trade him for the world.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"I do."

"You know you can talk about him, right?"

James looks down and purses his lips. "It's just that... other people I've dated weren't really... keen on the fact that I have a kid. You know, another person's child and all."

You tilt your head down to try and make eye contact with him. Somehow, your hand reaches out to his. "You know that doesn't matter to me, right? I already knew you had a son, hell, I even taught him for a whole year, and I still accepted your date."

His mouth forms a small frown, but his hand grabs yours anyway. "I just didn't want to seem weird."

"You're not. Promise," you give his hand a squeeze.

"Is it too early to want to kiss you?"

You both stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing, making him laugh too.

James starts to tell you about Harry, and visibly gets more comfortable the more he does it. He tells stories from his first words to potty fails. He shows videos and pictures. From there, the both of you fall into an easy rhythm of branching from topic to topic in your conversation. You exchange bites of your food. Before you know it, you're laughing while your meal is long done and you're both on your second cup of coffee.

For some reason, you feel an itch in your throat.

Nonchalantly, you ask, "Did your pasta have pineapple?"

"Yes, why?"

"Firstly, who the hell puts pineapple in pasta? Secondly, I think I'm having an allergic reaction."

James sits up in a panic. "Oh god- I'm so sorry-"

You cough into your first. "It's fine, it usually doesn't react as bad as it used to but I like to stay away from pineapples anyway. I'm not gonna die. Can you get me some cold water, please?"

He immediately stands up and gets you a glass from the counter. You down the glass in seconds and you feel better.

"I'm so sorry that was embarrassing-"

"You're sorry? I gave you a bite!"

"I forgot to ask, it's my fault."

He gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you"

"James, trust me, it's fine-"

"I'll bring you on a second date."

You furrow your brows. "You just saw me cough my lungs out from an allergic reaction and you still want to bring me out?" you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness.

"I mean... I still find you attractive after all that so if you find me attractive after I rambled about my own child to you though you have taught him for this past year I don't see why not."

At this point, you're pretty sure your cheeks hurt from all the smiling you've been doing the entire time.

Despite your protests, James insists on driving you home. When you reach the entrance to your apartment building, he tells you to wait before rushing out of the car to open the door to the passenger's side. You giggle and take the hand he holds out to you as you step out of his car.

He tugs the hand that is holding yours to make you face him. He's so close, you're desperately hoping your cheeks don't show how flushed you are.

"So... same time next week?" you suggest.

He nods. "No pineapples this time, guaranteed."

"And you're allowed to talk about Harry."

He beams at that, looking down and letting out a sigh before looking back at you. "Is it still too early to kiss you?"

"Yes, but for now I'll give you this," you press a kiss to his cheek. You slowly walk towards your building, your arms stretching until you gently let go when you're too far away. "I'll see you next week!"

And like that, you disappear into the building. James is left standing there, still in disbelief of the entire day.

He lets out a sigh, smiling, and gets into his car. He 's so excited to tell Sirius when he gets home.

a/n: if i'm being so honest i have zero idea how most allergies work so please don't get technical with me... also!!!! thank you so much for the love on part one eek i am on a roll i'm so happy to be writing this series.

taglist: @willows-lane @celosiastarr @nsr-15

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU pt. 55 (12.2)

part 1 | part 54 | ao3

A cop picks him up just outside Dinwiddie, two and a half miles from where he left his car on the side of the road. She’s plump and squat, with red hair and a midwestern accent, like Mrs. Henderson if she grew up in Minnesota.

“Wisconsin,” she corrects. “Hop in, I’ll take you to Lorraine’s.”

“Thanks, Officer…?”

“Greene.”

Steve accepts the offer because his fingertips are so cold they’re starting to burn through his leather gloves, and as she drives them to the diner in town he explains the flat tire — debris flying off an eighteen wheeler, a crazy loud clang followed by a flapping thud-thud-thud, the smell of burnt rubber as he eased onto the shoulder only to remember that he never replaced his busted tire jack.

“Coulda been worse,” Officer Greene shrugs, looking at him with a small grin and tapping a gloved finger against her temple. “Coulda hit ya in the noggin.”

“True," Steve chuckles, "could’ve gone four for four on the concussions.” He has to cover his laugh with a fake cough because he gets a flash of concerned crazy eyes in response, which is pretty fair, actually. Sometimes he forgets the details of his life all sound insane. “Uh. Sports," he amends. "I play— yeah.”

The rest of the drive is quiet. Steve watches the woods, the shadows reaching like blunt fingers over the hills, and the snow turns to freezing rain and pools in all the potholes as they splash down the sad main street, past a junkyard and an old schoolhouse, past boarded-up windows and short, stubby buildings full of failing small businesses. Lorraine’s is a hole in the wall at the end of a neglected strip, half the bulbs on the sign blown out so it just reads Rain’s in flickering yellow light, and Steve thinks that's fitting because this place is shit. This place is shit, and he feels like shit, and he’s going to have to drive home to his shitty trailer and see Eddie’s van parked across the street or maybe it still won't be there at all and he— he fucking—

"Easy," Officer Greene says. "You'll chew a hole through your lip doin' that." She parks the car and turns to him, squinting. "You okay?"

Steve pinches the end of his nose.

In the diner, she slides into the booth opposite him and insists on buying him coffee and a short stack, because, "Well, no offense, young man, but you seem like you may be goin' through it a bit."

Steve winces over his coffee, cradling the warm cup with both hands. “Yeah, well,” he sniffs, “my, uh…" Your what, exactly? "I got dumped.”

He doesn’t know why he gives her the details — the empty bed, the sticky note. Sorry. Something in her eyes makes him feel like he can trust her, and when they finish their meal she reaches over and lays a hand over his. Tells him it sounds like he’s got a lot of other people who love him; tells him he should think about giving one of them a call.

With a lump in his throat and fresh tears in his lashes, he fishes quarters from his pocket and trudges over to the phone. Dials one of the few numbers he knows by heart.

“Hello,” Claudia greets, “Henderson residence.”

A truly ugly noise escapes him, wet and thick with phlegm.

“Hello?” she tries again. "Dusty, is that you? Are you okay?"

Steve’s not about to cry where all the waitresses can see. “Hey, Ma,” he croaks when he feels like he can breathe. “It's Steve. Can I... do you mind if I stay with you for a bit?” 

—

part 56

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[piichuu]

♡ TREATING HIS WOUNDS

ft. levi ackerman, reiner braun, jean kirschtein, erwin smith, eren yeager

WARNINGS: mentions of blood and wounds, broken arms etc, fluff, gn!reader

LEVI ACKERMAN

“you shouldn’t worry about such small scratches. it’s not a big deal,” your boyfriend speaks as he’s sitting on a chair in the medical tent. initially, you had planned for doctors to take care of his wounds, but as there were much more severe injuries to take care of, you took things into your own hands and pushed him onto the nearest chair before you began searching for a medical kit you could borrow.

he has just come back from a mission together with the survey corps and as soon as you saw the small wounds on his arms and how he could barely walk properly, you grabbed his hand to pull him towards the medical tent. “these are not scratches, they’re wounds. you’ve obviously hurt your knee as well, stop trying to deny it,” you speak with tears in your eyes. he may be the strongest soldier of them all, but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t constantly worrying for him.

you begin to clean the small wounds on his arms, making sure there is no chance they’ll get infected before bandaging them. meanwhile, levi is looking down at you, now with a softer gaze than the one he previously wore as you practically forced him to walk here when he himself didn’t think he needed any help. seeing the tears in your eyes however do cause him to frown slightly, not enjoying when you worry so much.

“hey, i’m okay. it could have been a lot worse-“ “don’t say that! i don’t want to think it could’ve been worse. if i got to decide, you wouldn’t even be on the survey corps anymore,” you mumble while pulling up the leg of his pants to check his knee, gently touching it which causes him to let out a pained groan. “i’ll ask a doctor to look at this when they have some free time, i don’t think you’ll be able to walk properly for a while…”

that’s enough. he can’t handle seeing that sad expression on your face when realizing that he has been injured, even if it isn’t as severe as so many others. “look at me,” he cups your face, forcing you to look at him. “i’m alive. i won’t die during a mission, that’s a promise. you can trust me, as long as i have you by my side, i will always fight to survive,” he speaks while looking into your eyes.

you nod and quickly wrap your arms around him even if it looks a little awkward with you now standing up again as he sits on the chair. he strokes your back gently and sighs. “i’m so happy you’re back again,” you mumble and he nods, continuing to stroke your back. “me too. i guess i’ll be stuck here for a while as well with this knee, so we’ll have to make the best of it.”

REINER BRAUN

you’re quiet while inspecting his face, touching the small bruises you can find. as he doesn’t react to your touches, relief spreads throughout your body, but as you notice that he’s bleeding through his shirt by the arm, your heart instantly sinks again. reiner notices where your gaze has headed as well and sighs, knowing he has once again caused you to worry. “i promise it doesn’t hurt too much, baby. don’t worry, please?” he strokes your hair gently, but only for a short while before you take hold of his hand and lead him into the bathroom.

“what happened, reiner?” you ask while helping him hop onto the counter as you rummage through the cupboards to find the med kit. “was out training and went a little too hard. i fell on a tree branch, i won’t be training outside next time,” he mumbles, watching as you finally pull out a few paper towels to try to get rid of most of the blood.

he doesn’t know what to say as you treat the wound on his arm. the disinfection you carefully put onto his wounds does sting, but it is bearable. you’re always so careful with him when he’s been injured, no matter how severe it is. something he hates is worrying you but it is still something he often succeeds to do. “i’m sorry, darling. i know you’ve told me to be careful when i’m training outside,” he mumbles while leaning his head back against the wall. a day full of training with friends does become exhausting after all.

“it’s okay, i just don’t like to see you hurt,” your voice can barely be heard as you speak, focusing on taking care of his arm that receives a bandage from you. but you still aren’t finished as you once again go quiet to check if his arm is broken. “it doesn’t hurt that much, and it’s not broken, don’t worry. we already checked that after i fell.”

you sigh and nod, putting the med kit back into the cupboard as reiner gets back on his feet and goes to wrap his arms around your waist. “you worry about me too much,” he whispers, placing a soft kiss to your cheek as you put your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder blade. “i know, but after all those years of you fighting titans and humans, i never know what will happen when you’re out and about…”

“that was years ago, darling. the worst that can happen to me is something like this. i’m not risking my life like that anymore, okay? don’t worry about me, this wound will heal in a second. you’ll get a heart attack if you worry every time i leave the house,” you nod in agreement and close your eyes. reiner then opens his mouth to continue speaking. “i do worry about you too though, so i guess i can’t say much, but i want you to be happy, not to worry about me. i’m always gonna come back home to you.”

JEAN KIRSCHTEIN

“you need to be more careful, jean,” you mumble while cleaning the few wounds that are covering his face. it had been hit by tree branches as him and the rest of the survey corps were out on a less dangerous mission, but he had still succeeded to get hurt. he himself told you that he forgot to cover his face as they rode in the middle of the woods where most of the trees were.

he pouts slightly, getting scolded by you for probably the hundredth time during your relationship as he’s often out on dangerous missions and is risking his life. “i didn’t know it would be so crowded with trees. connie got hit too!” “neither you or connie are the smartest, so don’t use that as an excuse.”

jean sighs but wraps his arms around your waist. “don’t be mad at me, please,” his pout grows and you roll your eyes, but a small smile slowly appears over your face. “i’m not mad, i was just worried that it would be more severe. connie wasn’t really making it sound like it was something small, i thought you’d almost gotten eaten by a titan or something,” you explain which now causes your boyfriend to frown.

“he’s so dumb, i’m sorry that he made you worry so much,” he cups your face and looks at you with a soft smile playing at his lips while you’re putting bandages onto his cheeks and forehead. “it’s nice though, knowing that you worry so much about me. it makes me feel loved even if i don’t want you to feel so worried all the time.”

you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to give him a quick kiss. he looks at you with sparkling eyes and pulls you closer to him. “thank you for always taking care of me, i love you so so much,” he whispers, kissing your cheek before burying his face into the crook of your neck. “i love you too, jean. let’s go cuddle now.” “sounds good to me.”

ERWIN SMITH

“don’t cry, darling,” erwin speaks as you’re currently changing the bandage on his shoulder, right where his arm was bitten off by one of the many titans. it’s only been a few days since then and he’s supposed to change bandage every few days as it may still bleed a little. seeing the large wound does however cause tears to fill your eyes, how can it not? he’s your boyfriend after all and knowing the pain he must’ve felt as he lost the arm hurts your heart.

erwin strokes your hair gently and tilts his head to the side. “hey, it’s okay. it doesn’t hurt as much anymore,” his voice is soft just like his eyes and you meet his gaze as you finally look away from his arm with tears running down your cheeks. “i’m sorry, it just makes me so sad to think about it. i wish you didn’t have to go through so much pain.”

“don’t apologize, darling. it’s gonna heal soon and we won’t have to change this bandage as much. it’s a shame i only have one arm though, but it will stop hurting, i promise,” he smiles sweetly while moving his hand to your cheek, just wanting you to look at him at the moment, not wanting you to focus on his shoulder for now. “i’m okay, don’t worry about me. i’m still alive, that’s what matters.”

you nod and wipe your tears away, giving him a slight smile before you go back to bandaging his large wound. meanwhile, erwin is trying his best not to let out groans of pain as he doesn’t want you to worry even more. instead, he keeps a smile on his face and kisses your cheek as you finally finish treating the wound. “thank you, my love.”

he puts his arm around your waist and presses a kiss to your forehead. “i have to do some paperwork now. if you want, you can keep me company, but i’ll try to finish in an hour so we can do whatever you want later,” the two of you smile at one another and you nod. “i’ll keep you company, i promise i won’t try to distract you.” “i doubt i can believe that, but i’ll be happy to have you there.”

EREN YEAGER

eren watches as you’re cleaning his wounds even if you’re aware of the fact that they will heal by themselves. he is a titan shifter after all, but does that matter to you? no. you still can’t trust the process and therefore continue to treat his wounds every single time he’s hurt, even if the wounds will heal in only a minute or two.

“your really don’t have to worry, baby. i’m gonna be completely fine, it doesn’t even hurt,” he speaks as his arm with all the wounds finally begin to heal and he allows you to look at the arm so you can see that it’s actually healed. “look, completely fine. there’s nothing to worry about.”

you nod and sigh before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close to him, as close as you can get. “but thank you for caring about me. i’m happy i’m the one who gets hurt all the time and not you. i don’t know what i would do with myself if you were injured,” he kisses your cheek and hums contently, happy to be close to you after many hours out on a mission.

“but i don’t like it when you’re hurt, even if you heal quick by yourself. even if it doesn’t hurt for long, i don’t want you to be in pain at all,” you pout, getting a chuckle out of him as he leans in to kiss the pout away. “i guess i won’t ever get you to stop worrying, but just remember that i will always come back home to you and allow you to treat my wounds, because that’s always better than me dying. i love you, baby, okay?”

“i love you too eren. just try not to get hurt so often, please?” you look at him with pleading eyes and he nods, smiling softly. “okay, i’ll try my best. i promise that i’ll try my best.”

TAG LIST: @moonmalice @timetobegone @q2iepie

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[simplyholl]

The President’s Pet

Summary: Trying to survive in the Void, you find yourself in President Loki’s possession.

Pairing: President Loki x F Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. minors DNI. CNC. Dom Loki. Rough sex. Biting.

This is darker than what I usually write.

W/C: 1.3K

A/N: This idea came from the wild WhatsApp ramblings of me and @wheredafandomat

See my Masterlist here

You run as fast as you can, Alioth was too close for comfort. You had survived two days in the Void, and you intended to make it a lot longer. “Follow me!” A tall man said, running beside you. “I’ll help you.” You look behind you, the giant cloud monster was gaining on you. You didn’t have a choice.

You follow him underground to his hideout. As soon as the entrance door shuts behind you, two other men surround you, tying you up. “She will do nicely. I heard the President is bored with his whore. She will make a great addition for him. She will ensure our protection for at least a month.”

You struggle against them, but it’s no use. The man you shouldn’t have trusted leads the pack as they carry you across the vacant land. When you reach their destination, you’re thrown to the ground in front of a man sitting on a makeshift throne. He’s wearing a suit with a tear near the shoulder, horns on his head, his dark hair frames his face so beautifully. You notice a button on his suit jacket that says “Loki for President��.

You wonder what his story was before he got pruned. He looks at you with a sinister smile. Rising to his feet, he grabs your hair at the nape of your neck lifting your face to meet his gaze. “Oh, I like her.”

With the clap of his hands, another woman is brought out. “Give her to Alioth, I’ve grown tired of her.” Your new captor continues, “Bring this one to her new room.” You’re lifted to your feet and brought to a tiny room. A bed and a cage are the only furnishings in the room.

You sit on the bed waiting for the man who now controls your fate to give you instructions. He keeps you waiting for what feels like hours, but it could be mere minutes. Time seems to move differently in the Void. He enters the small room, strutting over to you.

“I am President Loki. You belong to me now. What happens next is entirely up to you. If you sign this paper-“ A flash of green shines in his hand as a sheet of paper and a pen appear. “And you’re a good little pet, I will care for you. You will be fed, safe, and rest assured, I take care of what is mine. Any jewelry, clothes, sweets, any frivolous thing your heart desires. If my men find it out there, it will be yours. If you disobey me, you will be punished.”

He gestures to the cage. He hands you the paper. You take your time reading it carefully. Basically it says if you please him sexually, you will be safe, more importantly alive. “Apparently, you run this place. What’s with all the paperwork? You could just have your way with all the women who turn up here.” He thinks about your question for a second before answering.

“Consent is still important, even here darling. You make the choice. You can agree or be Alioth’s next meal. I need you to satisfy my needs. You need me to stay alive. We could have a mutually beneficial relationship here.”

He smiles and you see the politician in him. How he used his charisma to climb social ladders in his own timeline. You take a moment to study his face. He is the most handsome man you have ever seen. You weigh your options. It could be a lot worse. He could be hideous. This will ensure you’re alive for a little longer. You sigh, “Give me the pen.” You reach toward him as a wolfish grin appears on his face.

You hear the thud of his boots on the floor outside your door. This is the second time he’s come in to bed you. He was rough, leaving bruises scattered all over your body. You were still sore from last night, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

You want to be the best he’s ever had. That way, he won’t get bored of you so easily. You quickly strip your clothes, laying on the bed spread for him like a feast. He spots you immediately, nodding his approval.

“My perfect little slut, this is how I expect to be greeted from now on, understand?” “Yes, sir.” He removes his belt from his pants, slowly pulling it from each loop. You place your hands in front of you, ready to be tied up. He did the same thing yesterday.

He fastens the belt around your wrists tightly. You watch as he undresses. He gets on the bed, presenting his fingers to you. “Suck.” You take them between your lips sucking and licking them. When he’s satisfied, he pulls them out rubbing your clit with his saliva covered fingers.

“So wet for me.” He observes. “Yes sir, only for you.” He drags his cock against your lips, and you open for him. “Let me use your pretty mouth, pet.” You take him in slowly, your wet tongue traveling his thick length.

You moan around him as his fingers explore you. He grabs your head, making you take him all the way to the back of your throat. Your nose hits his pelvis, drool drips down your chin. He watches as you struggle to take him. You choke when he thrusts forcefully.

You let your jaw go slack, letting him fuck your face. You whine when he removes his fingers from you. “You look so beautiful choking on my cock.” He tells you, his thumb caressing your full cheek. You feel his cock pulsing on your tongue. You know he’s close. You suck your cheeks in and he empties in your mouth.

You swallow most of it, leaving some in your mouth. You stick your tongue out, showing him the release you saved before swallowing. “Thank you for cumming in my mouth, sir.”

“That’s my good girl.” He praises. “Good girls get rewarded.” He pushes you against the mattress, raising your belt restrained hands above your head. He licks a stripe up your neck, rough fingers pinching your nipples. He bites down on your shoulder, you cry out reaching for him.

He slings your arms back up with force. He spreads your legs, settling between them. You gasp as he buries his face between your thighs. He tugs on your clit, you writhe underneath him, bucking your hips up into his face.

President Loki’s large arm lays against your stomach, holding you down. He dines on you like you’re the first decent meal he’s had in ages. Considering where you are, it’s probably true. His tongue lashes against you, he’s not gentle. It’s almost like he’s punishing you with the skilled muscle.

You feel your orgasm building. You look down at the beautiful man between your legs, wishing you could hold onto his horns for support. The band low in your belly snaps and you fall apart, shouting his name. He bites your inner thigh as he removes his face from your center. You shutter with anticipation as he parts your legs slowly.

He plunges inside you, bottoming out immediately. “It’s too much.” You tell him, feeling way too full. You’re still sore from last night. “You can take it.” He confirms by pulling out and thrusting back in harder this time. He lifts your leg to his broad shoulder, this new angle making him drag deliciously against the special spot inside you.

“Tell me you love taking my big cock.” He commands. You moan as he looks over your bruised covered body, appreciating his handiwork from the night before. “I love your big cock, sir. It’s all I can think about.” You stroke his ego as he sets a brutal pace. “Good fucking girl.” He growls.

“I want to see this pretty pussy dripping with my cum.” He reaches between you, pinching your sensitive clit. “Please cum inside me. I need you to fill me up, sir.” You beg him. His thrusts grow sloppy, then he spills inside you releasing with a grunt. He pulls out quickly, rough hands spreading you apart.

He collects the cum dripping out of you with his long fingers, pushing it back into you. “You were so good for me.” He coos. “Don’t clean up yet. I’ll be back to do it later.” A hot plate of food and mouth watering desserts appear with a green flourish. “Don’t tell the others I can do that.” He winks at you, magically putting his clothes back on before leaving.

Tags

@lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @ozymdias @cindylynn @cakesandtom @eleniblue @marygoddessofmischief @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @lokisninerealms @wheredafandomat @peaches1958 @loz-3 @freegardenbanananeck @chantsdemarins @lokidokieokie @multifandom-worlds @alexakeyloveloki @ladymischief11 @kats72 @mischief2sarawr @lokischambermaid @lamentis-10 @muddyorbsblr @itsybitchylittlewitchy @anukulee @xorpsbane

[mari-lair]

spoilers for chapter 112 below the cut.

Akane says this new present is better for Nene, and we see he made her initial dream of being popular come true, while also taking away a burden from Aoi (being the popular girl caused Aoi a lot of problems)

but he also says this is a good present for Teru, which makes me want to see how Teru's life changed, what Akane considers something Teru would either love or need, and what he lost to gain it, (like how Nene gained popularity but lost Hanako and all the connections she made from the butterfly effect of meeting him.)

ALSO AKANE IS SO FUCKED. Yes, there is the distress of "Teru trusted me and I threw that carefully nurtured trust away" situation but I won't touch on it right now, I'll leave it for later.

I want to look at this instead:

Cause Akane will remember.

As a wielder of time, a pivotal part of making this present, there is no way his memories will be replaced too, he'll have two presents in him just as he is the only character to have two bodies (supernatural form and human form) or so I'm guessing from the little hints here. (He uses "they" instead of "we" when talking about the people that will forget the old world)

Akane is under the assumption everyone will enjoy their lives once they have no other present to compare because it's something he has judged will make them happy. A superior present.

But he clearly isn't happy about this perfect present despite his big talk, he deflect Teru's claim he betrayed his trust by being distressed and looking away when he says "is the way it's supposed to be..." so it doesn't look like he believe it's better than his actual present.

I have reason to believe this 'anomaly-free present' comes with serious consequences, considering Aoi's dependency on Nene skyrocketed (does she not know Akane in this new present? So is Nene the only person she is close with? How did their life change outside of a school setting? There are a lot of implications that come with Aoi no longer being the popular girl) and many characters like Yooko and Satou didn't show up (which I didn't notice, Maagi pointed out to me)

We also don't see Akane's eyes when he talks about the 'better present' for 'everyone'.

Is like Akane is making a sacrifice for a greater good he doesn't fully believe in. How very supernatural of him.

But it is worse, more defeated, in a way, cause Akane never had a choice in the matter, Kako would have changed the past regardless of his wishes, he is just the 'deal with any collateral damage' guy, not the leader.

[varpusvaras]

Beru found out about their new neighbour on a one pretty unremarkable day.

Owen was out that afternoon, gone to recycle some of the old machinery parts they had left after one of their perimeter sensors had finally been worn down by the increased storms. The desert was calm that day, thankfully, as Luke had started to become very restless from not getting to go outside in days.

Perhaps Beru should've realised that such restlessness was going to make Luke forget their usual rules, in his haste to get out of the house, as all of a sudden she noticed that the immediate area around the house was uncharacteristically quiet, and not full of noises made by little boy playing space battles.

She didn't, however, get too far in her searches, when there was a tall shadow casted onto the sand right next to hers.

"Excuse me-" The man didn't even get to finish what he was saying, when Beru had already reacher for the prybar in the toolbox and turned around, gripping it tightly and ready to strike.

The Suns were partially behind the man, obscuring his features momentarily from her. She was tall and broad-shouldered, standing straight with his head held high even in the heat of the day. On his arms he held Luke, who had his arms around the man's neck in a relaxed, loose grip.

That made her loosen up her grip from the prybar just a little. Luke had the gift of knowing when to trust people, even if sometimes that trust overextended itself a little. The man's hold of Luke was, however, also relaxed, which made him a bit more trustworthy to Beru.

The man bend down and placed Luke onto the ground, and by doing so, he gave his face enough shadow for Beru to see him better.

He looked young, if a bit weathered, with some lines already forming on his face, though Beru could tell that they were in places that usually got creased up when someone was constantly concerned about something. There was a long scar running down the side of his face, showing up starkly as the skin around it had tanned more recently. It was the thing that told Beru that the man had not spent too much time on the desert yet, despite his clothes having already been weathered as well, and his footing being even enough on the sand. His dark, curly hair looked like it had only now started to grow out of a very well-maintained shorter cut. Another sign of him being a newcomer.

Still, there was something familiar in him, something Beru couldn't quite place, and she wasn't quite sure if that should've made her relax more or be more suspicious of him.

The man looked at her. His dark eyes were just as weathered as the rest of him, but still kind.

Beru made her decision. She lowered the prybar, and let go of it with her other hand, grabbing at Luke instead.

The man's shoulders lowered a bit as well.

"Excuse me", he said. "I saw your nephew had gotten a bit far away from the house."

Beru looked down at Luke. He looked up at her, and gave her a bit of a sheepish smile.

"Yes", Beru said, and looked back up at the man. "Thank you."

The man nodded.

"No problem at all", he said to her, and then turned to speak to Luke. "Stay where you're supposed to. The desert is a dangerous place."

"But you were there by yourself as well", Luke piped up, not able to resist the urge to talk back just a little.

The man smiled at him. Beru though he had a rather nice smile, even if it was worn down as well. She wondered what kind of hardships he had gone through, out there in the Galaxy, to seem like he had been sanded down by a multiple of storms already.

"I've seen a lot of places that are worse than this, kid", the man said. "I'll be just fine."

He then nodded his head again at Beru, lifted the back of the dark blue cape he had draped over his shoulders over his head, turned around and walked into the desert without another word.

Beru watched him go, ever so slightly confused about the whole interaction. She only moved his eyes away when Luke tugged at her hand.

"Did you know him?" He asked. "I've never seen him before. Not here or in town."

Beru shook her head.

"No", she said. "Did he say anything to you?"

She had not had the mind to even ask the man his name. She looked back out in the desert. He had already disappeared somewhere beyond the dunes.

Luke shook his head.

"He did know you are my aunt", he said. "And not my mom."

True, Beru realised. He had called Luke her nephew, without any introductions.

She decided not to be too alarmed about that. There weren't a lot of people who lived in the area. Chances were that the man had just heard about them already, and remembered who lived in the house.

Still. Not a lot people lived in the area, and even less had any business around there either. On top of that, even though she was more than sure that she had never seen the man before, Beru thought he had looked awfully familiar in some way.

"He seemed nice", Luke said. "He felt nice."

"If you say so, my little sun", Beru said. "Your feelings are often very precise."

She decided not to tell Owen about the man that evening. He would've just gotten unnecessarily worried about it.

----

Beru saw a dark blue cape in the corner of her eye.

When she turned, it wasn't the man from the desert, even if she was sure it was the same cape, with the tattered edges and faded shoulders.

She did know the man wearing it, though. Ben seemed to feel her eyes on him, as he also turned to look at her, and very briefly nodded at her before he went back to dealing with a customer.

Beru thought about it as she went on her business, and she walked back by Ben's stall as she came back.

Ben was already packing up by then, and Beru saw that he had also made purchases, as he was tying some wares that Beru didn't believe he had brought all the way from his house to the town. At the top were a new bedroll, and a pair of boots that even from afar looked too big for Ben's feet.

Beru smiled, before turning away. It really seemed like Ben wasn't alone anymore. That was good.

[bonny-kookoo]

Poor sweet tooth mc she just wants to be loved but is scared of getting hurt. Speaking of could you do a Drabble where she actually gets hurt but Yoongi and maybe even Jimin just think she’s being dramatic

Yall always want angst so there you go

"Its just a bruise baby, you're not gonna die." Jimin chuckles. You know that- you're not stupid. But you also know that it feels a lot worse than a bruise- and that Jimin isn't taking you seriously, probably because Yoongi isn't, either.

"I know you don't like going outside too much but you're being a little unreasonable now." Yoongi later sighs, crossing his arms- though he leaves you be in the living room, sitting outside in the backyard garden with Jimin to eat dinner, while you stay firmly planted on the couch, not eating anything.

It's only when Jungkook comes home that you finally feel like someone actually tries to find out what the problem really is.

You've had a little accident two days earlier- a misstep on the stairs in Yoongis house, making you miss two steps from them, leading you to harshly somewhat catch yourself on the way down. You didn't really fall- but you definitely landed weirdly on your leg, and in your humble opinion, didn't actually hit anything to cause a bruise.

So why is it bruising now? Why does it hurt so much?

Jungkook inspects your leg now on his day off, carefully assessing the damage visible before he lets you explain your symptoms and what led to it in the first place. He'd noticed you visibly limping oddly towards and from the breakfast table, worrying him a little.

"Is she still whining about the bruise?" Yoongi mumbles as he sits down on the couch a little further away from you both, and Jungkook sighs a bit to himself as he leans away to sit upright.

"Yoongi, I don't think it's just a bruise. Can you text Jimin and ask him to go see a doctor later?" He suggests, and Yoongi furrows his brows as Jimin walks in.

"She just tripped, she's always been a bit huffy when-" He starts to reason, but this time Yoongi actually shakes his head at him, before he looks at his hybrid again to urge him for more details.

"I think you might've torn a muscle." Jungkook tells you, softly running a hand over your leg. "From what you said it surely sounds and looks like it. Might wanna have someone take a proper look at it." Jungkook offers, and now, Yoongi feels some guilt creep up his throat.

He trusts Jungkook in stuff like this- after all, he rehabilitates hybrids and humans with exactly such injuries constantly, so he's got an eye for it.

"Oh- y-yeah, let's go right now then-" jimin stammers, looking anxious now, as Yoongi gets up with a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll drive." He offers quietly. "You go over and get her stuff." He instructs, and Jimin does as he says, visibly upset now while you look at Jungkook.

"Are they gonna cut my leg off?" You worry at the dog hybrid, who laughs, shaking his head before he pets one of your ears in reassurance.

"Absolutely not, silly cat." He laughs, and you're glad that at least he provides some comfort and security.

"...will you stay with me?" You ask, revealing to him that you're actually terrified of hospitals and doctors without saying so, and he nods, smiling warmly.

"For as long as you want me to." He says, and at that, your eyes begin to sparkle with something he's not sure he interprets correctly.

Because that glimmer in your eyes..

It looks suspiciously like love.

[luveline]

Hi id love to send u a request but I just can't match your genius mind, id looooveee more zombie!au Steve!!! 🥺🥺🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻 maybe smth about r or Steve almost being bitten by a geek?

hi!! thank you angel!! zombie au steve x fem!reader, 3k

"Sneaking around with your boyfriend would've been considered sort of scandalous a few years ago," you think aloud, eyes skipping over medication labels slowly. "Now it's the norm."

"We are the opposite of scandalous," Steve says. 

You push pill bottles aside to meet his eyes through the gap in the shelves. He narrows his gaze. "You know how you saw me naked, like, a week after we met?" 

Steve's glare turns playfully salacious. "Yeah?" 

"Did that make it less, uh, important? Not important. Was it less intimate for you when I was naked on purpose?" 

Steve returns his eyes to the pill bottles. "No." 

"Is that weird for me to ask you?" 

"No, that's not weird, why would that be weird?" He looks up again. His expression softens. "Don't worry, it's not weird. It's a normal question. You're wondering if I was… desensitised." 

"Yeah, exactly. Were you desensitised?" 

Trust Steve to say something snippy and then feel bad enough afterwards to immediately backtrack. There's no need for him to feel guilty because you'd known he was joking, and if he weren't it wouldn't matter to you —you know being outside of camp makes him nervous, and tightly strung. You aren't expecting him to be all smiles, especially when you're asking peculiar questions. 

"If anything," he says, his voice a murmur that evidences shy affection, "it was way more special. I knew you back to front already, but the first time you showed me you, on purpose, it was different." 

You grin at him. "Like a look don't touch scenario where you finally get to touch?" 

"I'm trying to be sweet on you." 

"What was it like?" you ask. Your smile is audible. 

"Like fucking relief." He reaches through the shelves to squeeze your hand. "You're being slow." 

You take your hand back and return to the task. You're looking for anti-seizure medication for one of the children at camp. It's an important mission and neither of you had hesitated when Joyce asked you to go, but you can't say you enjoy being out here. Talking to Steve makes things better. Easier to cope. Talking to Steve about loving him and being loved by him could make you forget a pike through the chest. 

You move to the next shelf below. 

There aren't many drugs for epilepsy. You aren't sure the child even has epilepsy, but no one has the knowledge to identify anything else. Sarah (Robin's fast friend from camp) read in her field medic journal that a seizure can be caused by lots of things, and she also said that sometimes what looks like a seizure isn't a seizure at all. What is it, then? you'd asked. 

The page was missing. 

You're working through a mental list of four drugs methodically, scanning and rescanning the labels on the bottles in the back of a pharmacy. This is the raw stuff, the kind that sometimes needs to be ground and poured into capsules with filler, so if you do find the right meds you'll also need to find a pestle and some other equipment. It's a hassle, but it's worth it completely if it helps. 

"Clonazepam," you read. You lift your head. "Steve, that's the right one, right? Clonazepam?" 

Steve's head snaps up. "Yeah, that's the last resort one. Where's that?" 

He rounds the shelves to be on the same side as you, seemingly hoping for similar medications to be in the same place. His hand drops casually to your shoulder as he bends, reading each label with a determined brow. 

"Valproate," he says, relieved, hand closing around another bottle. "Okay, two options. Thank god." 

"Do they have the side effects on the bottle?" you ask. 

Steve turns the bottle but there's no second label.

"The side effects are usually worse than the original problem," he says, frowning, "remember those migraine pills we found, the leaflet?" That's how bored you and Steve had become at one point in your isolation, you'd started reading medical pamphlets. "I'd rather have a headache than lose my sense of smell." 

"Depends on how bad the headache is. You keep looking for the, uh, the carba-Tegre one. I'll go scout the equipment." 

"Tegretol," he corrects lightly. "Carbamazepine, brand name Tegretol." 

You're impressed by his memory. He sees that, and he lifts his hand to you. Palm your way, you can see he's written the names of the medication as you'd been advised to find by one of the camp members, a retired carer who worked bedside for a lady who suffered from epilepsy. 

"Your spelling is terrible," you say. 

"Whatever," he says flippantly. You're barely ten paces away when he adds, "I love you." 

"I love you too," you say. There's no need to call. The building, this entire town, is silent. You'll hear a geek a mile away. 

You poke at dusty equipment sceptically. You don't need filler, you don't think, but it affects absorption, maybe? You're not a pharmacist nor a chemist, whoever's watching knows you didn't have time to become much of anything, you're just doing as the retired carer advised. There's a press contraption with what feels like hundreds of caplet sized holes toward the front. You put it in your bag and lament its weight as you search for a pestle. 

"I've found the filler," Steve says. "There's a huge container of it. Lactose. And another of starch."

"Starch, like potatoes? We could put her medicine in mash potato."

"I think we just need a pestle and a weighing scale now. And some hand sanitiser." 

"I'll have the scales and the sanitiser, what about Robin's deodorant?" you ask. 

"At the front. I'll get it. You'll have another one?" 

"Please tell me they have that Carribean Crush one again, it was lovely." 

"You're lovely. I'll find it." 

The weighing scale must get its name from how ridiculously heavy it is. That along with the pestle has your bag feeling like a boulder attached to your neck. Maybe Steve will be willing to share the load with you. Actually, there's no need for maybe. If you tell him, he'll carry it with you happily. 

You scan the room for useful things. Batteries, food, things you've trained your eye to pick out of a bomb site if necessary. You pocket a pen for Steve and leave the rest where it lays, stepping out into the slightly bigger medications room before rounding a plexiglass wall to the pharmacy counter. Steve crouches down the aisleway, rejected roll-on deodorant on the floor beside him. 

You're about ten feet away from him when the geek lunges for him. 

You can't even tell it's a geek at first, it moves quickly, quietly, smooth as a living human. They've become diverse as the infection thrives, and you should've been thinking about that fact. You should've been standing at the front of the room. 

You freeze. You freeze and you waste time. 

"Steve!" you shriek. 

Steve's flat on his side, kicking with the entire force of his body. The geek actually bounces back with the force of each kick, but he's persistent, and stronger than he should be, a mottled hand on Steve's shoulder and decaying teeth snapping with a sound like cracking marble near his face. Steve tries to scramble from under the geek and its face falls down by Steve's ribs and upper arm. He yanks his arm away, and there's an odd ripping sound. 

You run so fast down the aisle to protect him that you can't slow, the entire weight of your body and the heavy bag you carry throttling the geek with a horrid slap against the glass door. It flies open and you topple out onto asphalt, sliding across the geek's body and taking the brunt of your rolling in your hands and the top of your face. Steve shouts a war cry and barrels after you. You go on knees, hands trembling and rushing as you grab for the knife in your belt. Steve lands on top of the geek and drives the blade of his pen knife straight into the crease between its brows, grunting as he goes, his breath coming too fast. 

You've clipped your head on the floor, the warmth of blood trickling down your brow. It doesn't concern you. 

What concerns you is the sizable tear in Steve's coat. 

He almost cuts you with his knife as you run at him, yanking the sleeves of his coat and jacket down. 

"What– what are you doing?" he asks. You tug at his sleeve like you've been possessed, panic a coil that won't loosen in your throat. "What–?" 

If he's been bitten, you'll have to saw his arm off. It's the most horrible thing you can think of, hurting someone you love, hurting the one person you love most. Your breath is half sob as you finally get his outerwear off of his arm. You don't know how to do that to somebody and especially Steve, how could you ever sever a limb? But if it will stop the infection, if it would save him—

You push the long sleeve of his t-shirt up his arm and stare down at his arm. Bruised near the wrist, pale, threaded with dark-green veins, his skin is unbroken. He hasn't been bitten. 

You pull his arm to your chest and almost break down there in the street. Steve stands with his coat hanging off of his one shoulder and doesn't respond to your actions for a long, heavy second. 

"You thought it bit me," he says. 

Your breath catches. 

"It didn't bite you." 

"No," he says, "it didn't bite me." 

"Your coat." 

Steve pulls you back inside of the store. He looks around the room twice, and then leads you to an empty corner to hug you. 

You're frenetic and frantic at once, hands sliding up and down his arm, eyes tracing his light skin like an injury might materialise. 

"It didn't bite me," Steve says, "but you're bleeding." 

You hiss as his fingertip locates your cut forehead. It must be a very small cut considering how little it bled. You've had head injuries that wept for hours, leaving you dizzy and disorientated from the subsequent lack of blood. This one's a wimp. 

You've also seriously hurt your shoulder from the backpack's weight and your small skirmish. You're not going to tell him that, not now, not when you've been dropped face first into the horror of potentially losing him forever. 

Steve eases out of his jacket. He takes your hand from his arm and pushes both sleeves up, bearing both arms in front of you. 

"It didn't get me, honey. Try to calm down." 

He says it softly, with no judgement or condescension. Only concern. 

"I'm fine," you say. 

It's strangled, you'll admit. Steve turns his arms to show you both sides before he tilts your head up and toward the meagre filtering sunlight, analysing your head injury in detail. 

"Did you hurt yourself? When you fell, did it feel like you hit it hard, or was it something sharp?" You don't answer, and he gets snippy. "Y/N, tell me. Did it hurt?" 

"Steve, you're the one who almost got bit." 

"And you're the one who almost died of a fucking concussion not that long ago, in case you forgot. Sit down. I'm not kidding, sit down." 

You blink, mildly startled by his hissing, and sit on the ground. He's being snappy because he's panicking, that's all it is. You hold back an unhelpful comment that your concussion had been months and months ago, so it kind of was long ago. 

He lets his coat and jacket fall to the floor and jogs back up the aisle to the bandages and gauze. He takes a detour for antiseptic, and then he sets himself down in front of you. 

"Did you hit it hard?" he asks. 

You shake your head. 

He doused a piece of gauze in antiseptic. "Sting," he warns, washing the length of your forehead with his makeshift wipe. He quickly swaps the bloodied one for a clean one. "Hold this." 

You hold it. He gets back up, scouring the shelves by the bandages until he plucks out a small box. He crushes it with his hand and the medical tape inside falls into his waiting palm. He sits again, tears two strips, and lines the edges of your gauze with them. It would all be much easier if they had big band-aids. 

"Show me your pupils, baby," he says. 

Steve, for his street smarts and survival skills, used to freak out about injuries. But Steve freaking out freaks you out and he guessed that soon enough, so every cut and bruise these days is met with a silent approach. It's the opposite of your reaction. Embarrassment starts to creep in. 

You widen your eyes and let Steve check your pupils. 

"Same size," he says. 

"It's just a cut." 

Steve shuffles across the floor so his thigh is pressed to yours, rather than having his back to the store. He breathes out slowly, breathes in quick, and then forces the bottom of his palm into his thigh cruelly. 

"How the fuck did that happen?" he asks. If he weren't being hyper vigilant, he'd be scrubbing his eyes in a tell tale nervous tic. "We haven't had something like that in months. We swept this whole place when we came in, where the fuck was he hiding? I feel sick." 

"You do?" you ask, terrified. 

"It didn't bite me," he assures you again. Thankfully without any annoyance. 

"It ripped a chunk out of your coat with its teeth. Forgive me for thinking your skin was less hardy than pressed plastic." 

Your acidity shocks you both. 

Things are awkward for a split second, 'cos it's difficult to feel awkward around someone who you've spent every second of the day with since you met. You feel for a moment that you could just take him by the shoulders and shake him. You love him, you could never hurt him, but he has to see sense: he doesn't understand how much you need him. Not to keep you alive, but to give you a reason to do it yourself. If he got bit, you'd die. Plain and simple. Internally first, but surely the heartbreak would murder you in the end. 

"I didn't know you were so disagreeable," Steve says. 

"I didn't know you knew a word that long."

Steve laughs, startled. You want to be mad, but you're so thankful that he's not dying and so suddenly wiped you can only laugh with him.

"I forgot how quick you are when we fight," Steve says. 

"We don't fight anymore." 

"That could be amended. Especially if you're going to get fresh with me."

"You started it." 

"I always start it." Steve flicks your shoulder."Let me see your head," he says. You turn your neck so he can see the outermost side of your head. "You swelled up like a helium balloon when you fell through that floor. It was right at the back of your head and I could tell something was wrong… This is fine. It bulged out last time." 

"It what?" you demand, pulling another rare laugh from him.

He winds down, clasping your knee. You cover his hand, and only then do you realise it's shaking.

"Steve, you almost died." 

"But I didn't die, I'm fine, and you need to stop freaking out because high blood pressure is definitely bad for a concussion. You could die yourself if you don't relax, seriously." Steve clears his throat. "Sorry, for getting heated. And thanks for knocking that guy clean off of me, what was that? You holding out on me when we wrestle? That was clean." 

"That was like, a mom's adrenaline thing. No, not 'cos I'm your mom, idiot. Loved one's adrenaline. I thought you were gonna die and suddenly I could've run for fucking gold in the Tokyo Olympics." 

"How did I get some of that? Whenever you're hurt I just feel like crying." 

"I think the crying bit comes after. Maybe if you tried getting to me quicker you'd have enough adrenaline to save me." 

He smiles before he talks, so you know it's going to be bad, "If a geek eats me during an adrenaline rush, am I a human Red Bull?"

"Okay, you have to keep an eye on the store because I need to be hugging you," you say, giving him little time to disagree as you climb on top of his lap. 

It's not comfortable nor sexy, but for once you don't care how heavy you are. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and cradle his head, his face hooked over your shoulder so that he can still see your surroundings. He slides his hands underneath your coat and hugs you in turn. Your heart's still racing, and his hands are still shaking, but you lived. He lived. You've defeated danger for the hundredth time. 

"This really doesn't get any easier, does it?" you ask, petting his hair.  

He pats your back. "No, I don't think so. S'why I need you with me." 

"That's why I need you." 

Steve dots a quick kiss against the column of your throat. When he puts his chin back atop your shoulder, it's with a heaving sigh. 

"I can't believe you almost got bit," you say. 

"Yeah, well. Nobody has any manners anymore." 

[celestialhole]

Simon Riley x GN!reader headcanons

Warnings: Contains NSFW content below the cut, read at your own risk! Sorta proofread, random as fuck but here's your din din. Thinking about Simon Riley who uses his kids as weights for him to lift while working out. Just for fun. He likes hearing his kids laugh and giggle. Simon Riley who gets hella annoyed when your family/extended family buys so much crap for the kids. "The bloody hell they need this for? Don't we already have the damn pool outside!?" Simon looked down at the huge box in their living room, it was a goddamn bouncy house for the little ones. "I dunno Si. We can put it in the frontyar-" "WE ALREADY HAVE THE BALL PIT OUTSIDE!"

Never really celebrated his birthday before meeting you. You started giving him presents, taking him out, and taking him back to hotels (or your home) to ride him til' dawn. Now that you have little ones you all plan a small birthday party for him since he's old and grumpy. You give him one of his favorite desserts, have all the kids pile on him, and show him some love it resulted in him counting to 5 before chasing them all down while you record all of it.

Will fantasize about what life could've been like if his family were still here with him, what it could've been like if they had lived long enough to meet you. He's sure his Mother and Nephew would've loved you, and his brother would tease him n' say something like, "Now you know how it feels, it ain't as bad as you thought huh?" He wished to God he'd get to experience that in another lifetime. In my world, he doesn't celebrate Christmas and we know damn well why. If he's been with you for a long time he'll find a way to make something for you to make it special or he'll buy you something you mentioned wanting a few weeks or months back. But don't expect him to place a big ass tree in his apartment. If you manage to convince him to buy a tree he'll buy it and maybe a few ornaments he likes but the rest you're buying. Riley totally tore that bitch up and trust me, he tried to stop her but it was too early in the morning for that and he didn't want the tree anyways so he just sighs, puts some tea on the kettle grabs his reading glasses and his favorite book, and just relaxes on the couch as his military dog is tearing up your 350$ Christmas tree. "Jesus fucking Christ what happened in here!?" You stumbled over an ornament as you walked into the living room. Simon was chilling peacefully on the couch as Riley held a broken branch in her mouth and they both looked as if there wasn't a shit tone of ornaments and small pieces of the tree everywhere. It looked like a cluster fuck in your living room. "Tree became a chew toy," Simon mumbled. "I can see that.. And you didn't stop her?!" You narrowed your eyes at him. "Tried to, then it fell and I gave up," Simon took a sip of his tea and turned a page of the book he was reading. "Oh for fucks sake Simon.." You rubbed your eyes and leaned against the wall. He glanced up at you from the couch with an amused smile and looked back down at his book. "...This is what happens when we don't listen to Simon says-" "I'm kicking you and Riley out." You cut him off.

I see this man with an uncut shave because he's too lazy for that shit, however, if he notices he has a whole ass fucking jungle down there he'll trim it and then leave it alone for another 5 months. A solid 7 inches when soft and hard. Girth? Lots of it. Saggy balls. The type of man who doesn't notice when you get something done (hair, nails, etc). When you ask him if he notices anything different he'll immediately look at your ass to see if those squats did you any good. Speaking of your ass he loves your ass. Flat or thick he's smacking it when he casually walks past you. If you're plus-sized or just thicc it's even better. Don't ever bend over with this man in your perimeter. And it's even worse when you're in front of him and walking up the stairs cause he's staring hard at it. When you bend over he's smacking it, groping it, caressing it, and if he's really bold he's sneaking a quick hump against it. It's all shits and giggles till he's in that position. And you never hold back either. Now he doesn't trust walking up the stairs in front of you because you won't stop poking his ass and he hates it he loves you anyways. Call him daddy and he's not gonna speak or look at you for the rest of the day. You've made him spiritually nauseous good job. HE'S A BODY MAN BUT IN MY WORLD HE'S A THIGH AND TUMMY MAN! Also, I can see him being obsessed with ya nipple piercings if you ever got them. But nipple piercings are one thing, a genital piercing IS ANOTHER THING. Mutual masturbation is a must on the weekend mornings. He'll wake you up with pepper kisses to your neck while his hand is rubbing your tummy, when you wake up he'll gradually run his hands over your chest and pinch your nipple before moving his hand down to caress your arousal. He sucks the skin on your shoulder and neck to pleasure you and when you turn over to stroke his already hardened cock, he groans and moves his hips to slowly thrust his cock along your hand while his fingers slowly speed up. Now imagine his groans + his morning voice. This man loves you with every fiber of his being and tries his very best to make sure you know he loves you no matter what, so don't even think about asking him if he'll still love you as a worm. He'll keep you safely tucked in the pocket of his shirt and feed you noodles. He doesn't give two shits if you're hairy, plus-sized, or "unattractive". He'll cross the Amazon or even Antarctica to eat your ass I'm just saying. Don't protest or even speak, just bend over and let him have fun with his beautiful partner.

[sp0o0kylights]

Adopt a Jock Part Four  / Part Five P 1 YOU ARE HERE / Part Five P 2 

As always I own my soul to @chalkysgarbagefire and Hayley for helpin out with this one! 

The problem with D&D games was that the drama room was only available on specific days.

As in, the days Hellfire was scheduled as a club for, much to said club’s distress. 

This led directly into the second issue Hellfire faced--finding a place to host them all when they wanted to do something as a group outside of the main campaign they played. 

(At least anything D&D related, with all of the screaming, ranting, and frantic dice rolling that came with it.) 

Gareth knew Eddie had been lying through his teeth when he'd try to pitch Steve's house as a Hellfire hangout. Accepted that they’d never get to use all the sweet, sweet space Steve was known to have as much as he’d accepted Steve himself. 

It was a lot, after all. Particularly when Eddie’s one-shots were known to last a good chunk of the day. 

Once again, Steve had proved them all wrong. 

(“We can use my house.” were five words not a single person at the table had ever expected to hear out of Harrington’s mouth, and it showed in the shocked silence that followed when he actually spoke them. 

“What?” Steve asked, as six pairs of eyes stared at him. “Space is the problem right? So my house is the perfect solution.” 

“Are you sure dude?” Grant asked hesitantly. “You know this one-shot isn’t gonna be a like, two hour thing, right?” 

To their surprise Steve just gave him a flat, almost dead-eyed stare in return. “I’ve hosted the kids at my place before. Believe me, I am well aware.” 

“As long as you’re absolutely sure…” Jeff had added, and could only roll his eyes when he got a sassy response from Steve. 

Gareth of course, caught the way Steve kept seeking out Eddie’s eyes, as if hoping to make their oldest friend smile simply by offering up his house. 

He didn’t even need to look to know it was working.) 

It had taken some creative thinking (and a few wild excuses) to finangle things so that he could show up to Steve's literal castle of a home before anyone else without alerting Eddie but he'd managed it.

It was in fact, looking to be the highlight of Gareth's month. 

Possibly the year, if they managed to pull off the little plot he had cooked up. 

“I still don’t get how this is a prank.” Steve said, as Gareth prepped him before the others arrived.

"Trust me. If Eddie is anything, it's a jealous bitch." Gareth replied, seated on one of the countertops. "We dethrone him and he's gonna make an ass of himself for the next week. It'll be hilarious." 

"I fail to see how that's different than usual." Steve grumbled as he bustled about. 

Upon arrival Gareth had found him elbow deep into making cookies and what appeared to be  themed cocktails, among several other bowls full of snacks of all kinds. 

There was even little finger sandwiches, the kind that absolutely looked homemade, and Gareth would have teased him about that except he’d instantly stuffed two in his mouth.  

("I won't be able to host since I'm playing, so I just want everything done before anyone comes over." Was Steve's explanation, when Gareth did manage to get out a few teasing quips.  

With the proud lack of manners so many teenage boys possessed, Gareth talked right through his mouth of food. "God you’re a dork. How the hell did you get popular?"

"Shut up Emerson, you're wearing two jackets." Steve snipped in response, as if he didn’t look like the poster boy for Nordstrom.) 

"Don't bring logic into this." Gareth continued, as he tried to snag some cookie dough. 

 Steve smacked the back of his hand with a spoon. 

"Get a bowl and a spoon if you're going to eat the dough!" Steve grumbled at him, already bustling to get said bowl and spoon himself. “God you’re worse than Eddie. And the kids!” 

Gareth waited until Steve turned before he stuck his tongue out at him. "Whatever you say, mom." 

He got an over exaggerated eye roll in response. 

 "Anyway, the point is you're gonna witness something we'll get to tease Eddie about for years." Gareth said, as he watched Steve dole out some dough. 

"You get to watch the little hamster on the wheel that powers Eddie's brain lose its shit and cause him to do something really stupid.” He made grabby hands for the bowl and spoon, and tucking in delightfully the second Steve handed them over. 

Steve himself treated the entire exchange like he was feeding a particularly vicious and wild animal, making a show of yanking his hands back like Gareth might just go for his fingers. "I just don't understand why the thing you wanna fight about is cuddling."

"Bragging rights. The jokes we can make. The fact that your thighs look like they were made out of clouds, take your pick man.” Gareth counted off, in-between bites of dough. 

"Clouds?" Steve asked, tilting his head. 

“Big muscley clouds, Harrington. Also Grant’s here.” 

Steve blinked. “How do you-” He asked, right before the sound of a car with an engine far too loud pulled into his driveway. 

“He drives an absolute piece of crap. You ride in that thing one time and you’ll be able to hear it coming for the rest of your life.” Gareth explained, as Steve peered out the kitchen and down to his front doors. 

(Plural, because he had two.

Gareth had never felt more judged by slabs of wood in his life than he had when he’d walked through them.) 

"Last chance to bail, Stevie.” Gareth teased. “I won't hold it against you if you call it off mid-show though." 

Steve didn’t answer for a moment, too busy disrobing from his baking apron—a bright yellow and red garment that practically swallowed him whole, complete with an embroidered ‘Claudia Henderson’ over the right breast. The embroidery gave rise to a few questions but Gareth decided to save them for later. 

"No, something this fucking weird has to have a story behind it and I want to witness the fallout.” Steve finally replied, before rushing out of the kitchen. 

He ripped open his front door, right after a knock echoed loudly throughout the house. 

“Shit! What the hell man, were you just waiting to do that!?” Stewart yelped, prompting Gareth to snicker quietly and Steve to apologize. 

Like the wealthy housewife he’d been no doubt raised by, Steve went through a whole spiel as he ushered Stewart and Grant in, pointing out bathrooms, letting them know where the game was going to take place (the giant fuck off table that looked like it should be hosting some kind of high-stakes negotiation instead of a bunch of nerds) and where they could put their things (into a closet dedicated to just guests.) 

The trio of Eddie, Tiffany and Jeff arrived next, the latter two having been roped into helping Eddie haul his “D&D To Go” bags around. 

Steve started his little host speech over, much to Gareth’s amusement, fluttering about and entirely forgetting about his cookies until the oven dinged, causing him to swear and rush back into the kitchen. 

“Dude, breathe.” Gareth told him, almost done with his bowl. “It’s a D&D game, you don’t gotta go full out for us.” 

“I just want to make sure everyone has a good time.“ Steve said with a shrug. Like none of the effort he’d gone to, was a big deal. 

“Careful Harrington, say stuff like that again and we’re going to start thinking you enjoy hosting us.” 

“Shut up Gary.” Steve said, setting his cookies on a cooling rack. “And put that bowl in the sink!” 

Gareth jumped off the counter, trying his best to remove the shit eating from his face.

He failed entirely. 

xXx 

As far as pranks went, this one required quite the set up. 

They couldn’t do it in the beginning of the D&D game--too obvious, and too easy for Eddie to call bullshit. 

Doing it at the end wouldn’t work either. Eddie would know they were trying to rile him up and would no doubt find a way to ruin it. 

Years of being Munson’s best friend had afforded Gareth the knowledge that this was going to have to be split in two parts, and the first part, the setup, started now. 

Slowly. Methodically. 

In a way that wouldn't spook Steve, or trigger Eddie's sense for trouble. 

Gareth began by selecting a seat as far away from Eddie as possible, knowing his lovestruck idiot friend would be pulling out all the stops tonight in order to impress Steve (and get him to keep playing, of course.) 

Sure enough, as soon as Eddie was done setting up he crooked a finger in Steve's direction.

“Harrington you’re here, next to me.” Eddie flashed him his most award winning grin, the one that said he was up to trouble in that charming, ‘aren’t I just a charming ol’ rogue?” sort of way. 

“I made you a human fighter, just to start you off." He continued, as Steve took the seat next to him. "You can always make your own character later if you don't like playing this class, but I made this set up as straightforward as possible.” 

“Human fighter huh?” Steve said, glancing down the sheet. “Okay.” 

“You have any questions, you just ask. I promise I won’t bite. Not for your first time anyway.” Eddie winked, dipping in and out of Steve's space as he did so. 

“Dude, I am begging you to please stop saying shit like that.” Jeff said with a long suffering sigh. 

“No.” Eddie replied promptly, sticking his tongue out. 

Steve just ducked his head to hide his smile. 

A harsh clap halted any further response, as Eddie settled back into his seat and dipped into his DM narrator voice. 

"Alright my little adventurers! Are we ready to begin?"  He looked around as everyone looked towards him, the energy shifting instantly in the room. 

Eddie grinned gleefully. "Perfect. You all wake up at an Inn, with no memory of how you got there…" 

A story was quickly spun, one of mysterious memory loss and a sense that the group needed to stay together. Introductions were given once everyone came into the tavern of the inn, cut short when they were interrupted by a lone barkeep.

“Is the barkeep a human?” Steve cut in. 

Eddie paused, temporarily thrown, but nodded encouragingly. “Yes, he is actually!” 

Grant and Jeff both went to open their mouths, no doubt to tease, but Harrington beat them to it. 

“Okay, I roll to fight him, or whatever.” Steve said.

“I--what?” Eddie asked. 

“I roll to fight him.” Steve repeated. “Oh and my character screams “Death to humans!” before he attacks.” 

He sat back with a smug little grin, and watched as Eddie froze in surprise, while Grant and Stewart's jaws promptly hit the floor. 

“Harrington, you menace.” Tiff cackled, delighted. 

Eddie just threw his head back and laughed. 

It set the tone quite nicely for the rest of the one-shot. 

xXx 

“Grant, why are you looking at me through a fork?” Steve asked, about thirty minutes into the game. 

“I’m pretending you’re in jail.” 

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Grant, whose character had to physically carry Steve's fighter out of two altercations he started,  just gave him a flat look.  “It’s spiritually healing.”

"Hey Jeff." Gareth asked quietly, as banter was traded. "I'm catching a hell of a draft over here." 

Jeff raised an eyebrow at him. "And what do you want me to do about it?" 

"Switch me seats?" 

Jeff rolled his eyes, but gave in easily enough. 

"Fine."  He said. 

Gareth did his best to keep his grin off his face. 

Step one, complete! 

xxx

"You come upon a door." Eddie said, sitting deep in his seat while steepling his fingers. "It's a normal door, unremarkable in every way except for two things." 

Groans filled the room, startling Steve. 

"Oh god, not again." Stewart moaned, raking his hands through his hair. "I can't do this again!" 

Eddie's grin merely grew. "The first odd thing you notice is that the door has been put into the wall at a tilt." 

"I'm gonna kill him." Tiff snarled, writing something frantically in her notes. "Munson is a dead man walking." 

"What is happening?" Steve asked, glancing around. 

"The second thing is that you recognize this door." Eddie's grin was Cheshire cat-esque, smug in the chaos he was causing among his friends. "It's the same door you saw at the beginning of this adventure, leading into the room the Innkeeper asked you to stay away from." 

"We're boned." Grant announced, throwing himself dramatically back against his chair. 

Gareth made his own dramatic, frustrated noise, banging his fist on the table. 

The full glass of soda next to him wobbled dangerously. 

With a cough, he made another loud "ugh!"  smacking his fist down a second time, closer to the glass. 

As intended, it spilled all over Tiffany. 

"Dude!" She exclaimed, shoving her chair backwards and jumping up. 

"Oh shit Tiff, I'm so sorry!" Gareth gasped. 

It was hard to keep a straight (albeit very sorry, least Tiffany hit him with her papers) face, but he managed. 

Barely. 

"You got my shirt wet you dick!"

"Here, switch it with this."  Gareth stood, unwrapping the red and black checkered sweater from his waist. He offered it up with an apologetic face as Tiff snatched it out of his hands with a glare. 

"I'll switch you seats too!" He called as she stormed off towards the bathroom. 

Jeff and Grant both stared at him with raised eyebrows as Gareth quickly shuffled his and Tiff's stuff around, taking her now sticky chair. 

"Maybe we should take a break?" He suggested, trying to act embarrassed when he was anything but. "This whole area needs to be wiped down."

"Five minutes." Eddie conceded. "I wanted one of Stevie's delicious cookies anyway." He stood, putting his arms up in a lazy stretch. 

Steve stood with him, leaning over to examine the mess Gareth had made. “We can wipe this down but this wood’s kinda funny, it’s gonna be wet for a bit no matter how much we dry it.” 

“Well shit.” Gareth said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about the table man.” 

Steve waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, the kids spill on it constantly. You are probably going to need a different chair though unless you’re fine with your ass getting wet.” 

“Do you have another chair somewhere, Stevie?” Eddie asked, making a show of looking around. “Cause I’m not seeing one. Not that I care if Gary-Berry sits on the floor.” 

Steve had several extra chairs in fact, but he and Gareth had hidden them all away before anyone else had arrived. 

“I used to, but Mike broke two.” Steve said, and Gareth found himself insanely impressed by the improv on display. 

He hadn’t thought Harrington had that level of acting in him. 

“If you’re okay with sharing though, the chair’s are big enough that we can kinda squish together.” Steve continued, completely ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes about bugged out of his head. 

“Only if you’re sure, man. I don’t want to be more of a bother.” Gareth put on his saddest, ‘I dun fucked up’ face, and shuffled his feet a little, just for dramatic effect. 

This was the performance of a lifetime and Gareth wanted his Grammy after it, because he and Steve had planned the entire thing right down to the shared chair bit. 

“You’re not, Dustin does this constantly.” Steve replied easily. 

“Or we could just put down a towel.” Jeff said, with a look on his face that said he thought everyone in the room was a fucking idiot. 

Gareth could’ve strangled him. 

“That’s probably a smarter idea.” Steve agreed, like the traitor he was. “I dunno if that’s gonna work for your papers and shit though, so you can just hedge into my space.” 

Which wasn’t what Gareth wanted, but he had to give Steve props for the quick thinking. 

At least it was just a minor setback. 

“I’ll get a towel.” Jeff continued, and at least they all got to witness the look that graced Eddie’s face upon realizing that Jeff of all people, knew where Steve kept his towels. 

xXx

"What the hell else can we do to try and open the door!?" Jeff snarled a while later, slamming his pencil down. 

They'd tried multiple different approaches and so far nothing had worked to set off whatever trap Eddie had set up. Something that made their DM absolutely delighted, while frustrating everyone else. 

"I still don't get why we can't just try to turn the knob." Steve complained, staring in confusion at the absolute riot Eddie's "completely normal" door had caused among the rest of his party. 

"Do not touch that door Harrington!" Grant bellowed, pointing at him. 

Steve raised his hands in the air placatingly. "Easy, easy, I was just making a suggestion." 

Gareth, wedged as close into Steve's space as he could get, tapped his fingers on the table twice. It was the little code he’d come up with to alert Steve that he was about to do something to piss off Eddie related to the prank (mostly, so Steve had a heads up Gareth was about to touch him, not that Gareth had spun it that way when he’d explained it) before patting Steve’s shoulder, hooking his elbow on it and leaning over. “Not gonna lie man, it’s not a bad idea. We’ve tried right about everything else.” 

He could feel Eddie's eyes burning a hole in his skull from here and he delighted in it. 

“Do not encourage him.” Grant said through gritted teeth. 

Gareth leaned his face on the arm perched on Harrington, his hair tickling Steve’s cheek as he tried to look as angelic as possible. “I couldn’t possibly know what you mean, Grantman.” 

He was flipped off in response. 

xXx

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Stewart howled, and even Gareth’s jaw dropped when Steve finally gave in and tried to turn the knob--only to succeed and swing the door open. 

“Well Munson? What happens to him?” Tiff said, having refused to call Eddie anything but his last name since the door had first appeared. 

“Nothing.” Eddie practically purred. “I told you, it’s a totally normal door, and the only weird thing about it was that you recognized it and that it was put into the wall a little tilted.” 

“Fuck you dude.” Stewart practically growled, balling up the piece of paper he’d been doodling on and flinging it towards their DM. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck. You!” 

“No thank you.” Eddie replied cheekily, twirling a finger in his hair. 

“We spent almost an hour trying to figure out how to open a regular door.” Jeff said, clearly processing. “An hour.” 

Eddie just shrugged, shit eating grin plastered across his face. 

Gareth once again tapped his fingers twice against the table, waited a moment, before banging his head gently against Steve’s shoulder. “I hate him.” He groaned. 

After a long moment, Steve gently, if not a little awkwardly, patted him on the head. 

“There, there, Gary. We defeated the door in the end.” He said calmly. 

Gareth laughed, absolutely delighted. His head jerked up and a grin crossed his face as he immediately looked to see what Eddie made of that. 

Pure murder, going by the face Eddie poorly tried to cover. 

Perfect. 

xXx 

“With his last few moves, Sir Carrington-” 

"I refuse to let that be my character's name.” Steve interjected, as he had every time Eddie brought up the name they’d apparently argued over. “If I have to figure out how to change it legally in your dumb game I fucking will."  

Eddie didn’t even look in his direction. 

“--Sir Carrington leaps into the air, swinging the sword of truth. It cleaves right through the Innkeeper, revealing him to be the dastardly villain you’ve heard so much about, Tareth the Trait. He’s gained an unusual amount of power after stealing the Inn from the former Innkeeper--” 

“Really bro?” Gareth said, sending Eddie a flat look. “Tareth the Trait?” 

“--With this final blow, Tareth collapses to the ground, dead. The Inn returns to its prior form, a safe haven for adventurers, instead of a trap.” 

“Shut up guys, we did it!” Stewart said, throwing his hands up in a victory pose. 

“Not gonna Eddie, I liked the twist.” Tiff complimented, a rare thing from her. 

“Thank you, thank you.” Eddie stood up, sweeping an arm across his chest as he bowed. “Give yourselves a round of applause as well, especially for our dear Steven, who just completed his first D&D game!”

A cheer went up, causing Steve to flush red. 

Gareth pretending to drum, knocking his shoulder into Steve’s much the way he had seen Eddie do as Steve sent an embarrassed smile around the room. 

“We should celebrate.” Jeff said, as the chaos finally died down. 

“I conquer, Jeff the Chef!” Eddie hollered, putting his foot on Steve’s chair. “Stevie-boy, you gotta have some good stuff around here for those big basketball wins!” 

“Get your foot off the chair, Eds.” Steve groaned, but stood up (forcing Gareth to get up as well considering how far he’d been leaning into Steve’s space.) “And yeah we can order like pizza.” 

“Pizza and beer?” Grant suggested.

“Oh my friend. I can do better than that.” Steve replied, a flash of his old, charming self coming through. “Allow me to raid my father’s liquor cabinet.” 

“Hell yes!” Grant yelled, pumping his fist. 

Tiffany rolled her eyes but didn’t protest, and neither Gareth noted, did anyone else. 

Which was exactly what he wanted, because he hadn’t managed to land the perfect ending he and Harrington had planned. 

Gareth would make it into Steve’s lap tonight, even if it killed him.  

(Or worse, even if Eddie got there first, a thing that may very well happen considering Eddie was clearly annoyed with how Gareth had been hogging Steve. 

Just as intended.) 

SOME NOTES: I don't play d&d so writing it always requires a lot of research. Several pieces here (like the human fighter bit) are based off of/stolen from memes, videos or stories I read. If I fucked it up thaaaan idk squint and pretend its right LOL. 

This one doesn’t have a bonus because I had to split Chapter Five into two parts. This is Part One, it’ll be one chapter on A03.  It just kept going.

Also Adopt a Jock is officially going up ON A03 so I will no longer be accepting tags ( Ch. One is already uploaded I’m just struggling with the summary lol. I will make a post and link it to my pinned post when it’s up.) I will still be updating here since I am only updating chapters on A03 as fast as I can edit them, which is not fast at all, so I imagine the next few chaps will be here before there but eventually shits gonna even out, so those who did not get onto the tag list can subscribe to the A03!  

Finally, Sorry this took so long, I have a prior ongoing medical issue and getting laid off fucked up my insurance. Had to cram in some procedures before it ran out. Long story short all I've done is sleep, go to a doctor or rant about one of the two lmao. Legit slept 18 hours yesterday ahaha k i l l m e 

[edenmemes]

resident evil: 4 remake starters

❝ man, that stinks. ❞ ❝ this just keeps getting worse. ❞ ❝ you’re still a kid holding onto fantasies of what’s right and wrong. ❞ ❝ i’m gonna let you in on a little secret. just between us. ❞ ❝ the hell is going on? ❞ ❝ hey, we’re a team, right? ❞ ❝ where’s everyone going? bingo? ❞ ❝ you and me are two sides of the same coin. ❞ ❝ that’s just like you. you always had poor judgement. ❞ ❝ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❞ ❝ like i told you, i’m gonna get you home safe. ❞ ❝ i’m not falling for your mind games. ❞ ❝ you proved you can handle yourself. ❞ ❝ you haven’t changed a damn bit. ❞ ❝ you look like you’ve got something to say. ❞ ❝ gotta fix everything myself. ❞ ❝ you can’t run. you got to keep moving forward. ❞ ❝ you’re nothing but an extra in my script. ❞ ❝ i thought you were gonna die. ❞ ❝ i don’t pay you to ask questions. ❞ ❝ there’s no time for resting. ❞ ❝ revenge? you think i’m doing all this...for revenge? ❞ ❝ i need you to trust me, and do exactly as i say. ❞ ❝ you’re too soft to do what’s necessary. ❞ ❝ i know your potential better than anyone. ❞ ❝ you’ve made it all this way, but you haven’t learned a thing. ❞ ❝ maybe you’ll live to meet me again. ❞ ❝ the most important thing in this world is pure, unadulterated power. ❞ ❝ i’ve something to ask you...but i don’t think i’ll get a straight answer. ❞ ❝ you didn’t answer my question. what’re you after? ❞ ❝ you know, you were always an asshole. ❞ ❝ you have a strange sense of humor. ❞ ❝ you are nothing if not unyielding. ❞ ❝ i just wanna feel good about myself. make amends. or something like that. ❞ ❝ just give me a heads-up before you stab me next time, okay? ❞ ❝ it’s okay to be afraid, you know. ❞ ❝ what do you think? people can change, right? ❞ ❝ not looking good, eh, my friend? ❞ ❝ you try to save one person; a hundred others die. ❞ ❝ was that an act of defiance? against me? ❞ ❝ a well-tuned weapon can make up for a lack of skill. ❞ ❝ i’ll let myself out. ❞ ❝ you won’t get away with this. ❞ ❝ be a shame to live the rest of your life wondering ‘what if’ - am i right? ❞ ❝ you have the stench of battle on you. ❞ ❝ so, tell me, why did you come to this horrible place? ❞ ❝ you wanna help? cause i could use it. ❞ ❝ if i could just forget what happened that night, the pain - even for a second... ❞ ❝ i knew i could count on you. ❞ ❝ i think you’d be pretty dashing in it. ❞ ❝ i’m not used to having such good company. ❞ ❝ hey. it’s dangerous outside. ❞ ❝ god damn...i was almost a pancake. ❞ ❝ a lot of people have gone missing around here. and it’s been like that for a while now. ❞ ❝ sorry. i, uh, screwed up. ❞ ❝ i’m so scared. when that happened...i wasn’t myself any more. ❞ ❝ well done. you’ve proven yourself reliable. ❞ ❝ won’t be going anywhere in this thing. ❞ ❝ sorry, didn’t realize that was yours. ❞ ❝ this time, it can be different. it has to. ❞ ❝ everything will work out just fine. ❞ ❝ you missed. that’s not like you. ❞ ❝ come to my rescue, prince charming! ❞ ❝ sometimes it’s more fun not knowing. ❞ ❝ if you do well, i’ll make it worth your while. ❞ ❝ that hurts, you know. ❞ ❝ this is one hell of a gloomy place. ❞ ❝ why help me, though? what’s in it for you? ❞ ❝ oh, well, maybe just untie me then? ❞ ❝ knowledge is power. remember that. ❞ ❝ i can’t tell if that’s meant to be a compliment. ❞ ❝ i’m sure you’ll do your best to help me. ❞ ❝ bill me for the repairs later. ❞ ❝ it seemed like you really wanted to talk. ❞ ❝ you know, those things will kill you. ❞ ❝ you haven’t changed. you just think you have. ❞ ❝ don’t let the smallfry distract you from the big fish. ❞ ❝ quiet type, eh? ❞ ❝ guess you picked the wrong spot to vacation. ❞ ❝ a most warm welcome to my castle. ❞ ❝ bet you’ve been in spots like this before. ❞ ❝ to think you could be this foolish. ❞ ❝ give me a break already. ❞ ❝ i’m sorry. i wish i could do more to help. ❞ ❝ i don’t want to recall what happened down there. ❞ ❝ years haven’t been kind to us, i suppose. ❞ ❝ finally, some peace and quiet. ❞ ❝ who are you? and what are you doing here? ❞ ❝ i’m just an average guy who happens to be quite the ladies’ man. ❞ ❝ you should really be telling me what a good job i did. ❞ ❝ is this the first time you coughed up blood like this? ❞ ❝ so much for helping me. ❞ ❝ so, who are you working for this time? ❞ ❝ you think i’m gonna give up that easily? ❞ ❝ hey, are you sure you’re good? ❞ ❝ i’m gonna get you home safe. ❞ ❝ i have a plan. but you’re going to have to trust me. ❞ ❝ gimme some space. ❞ ❝ i don’t get you. why risk your life like this? ❞ ❝ it’s a little over-the-top, don’t you think? ❞ ❝ they’re coming! get behind me. ❞ ❝ does that hurt? are you in pain? distressed? ❞ ❝ you are really starting to become a giant pain in my ass. ❞ ❝ you know i don’t work and tell. ❞ ❝ you’ve done well to make it this far. ❞ ❝ tell someone who gives a shit. ❞ ❝ happy to help. now you owe me. ❞ ❝ are you just trying to use me again? ❞ ❝ what’re you, my mother? ❞ ❝ i’m definitely gonna catch a cold. ❞ ❝ this artwork...doesn’t it look like it’s telling some kind of story? ❞ ❝ what do we do? there’s no way out. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong with wanting the same for myself? ❞ ❝ it’s a little old fashioned for my taste. ❞ ❝ you’re losing your cool. making mistakes. ❞ ❝ don’t scare me like that. ❞ ❝ you’re slow. and so goddamn weak. ❞ ❝ wow, you’ve really gone all out for me! you shouldn’t have. ❞ ❝ i will send you back to the hell you came from. ❞ ❝ heheh, having a rough day? ❞ ❝ the reaper comes for cowards and the careless alike. which are you? ❞ ❝ i’ve got to think. need to get my head straight. ❞ ❝ i shall leave tomorrow. go far away. ❞ ❝ here’s my question...have you changed? ❞ ❝ we will beat this. together. ❞ ❝ what’s wrong? show no mercy! ❞ ❝ i admit - you’ve done well to stay alive this long. ❞ ❝ this means death. a slow, miserable death. ❞

[kataraavatara]

No, Corlys and Otto did not do the same thing here.

And this is in no way defending Corlys, so please don’t twist my words. These things are both awful, one is just worse.

Look at Laena and Viserys. Corlys and Rhaenys openly approach Viserys and say they have an offer of marriage. Laena and Viserys then take a walk outside, where they’re both visible to lots of people, including her mother.

However, Alicent is instructed by her father to visit Viserys “in his chambers” ie alone and without supervision. While Viserys is definitely a creep for marrying his daughters best friend, I (and I would also say Otto) don’t believe he would ever force himself on Alicent or that anything “untoward” would happen, and nothing physical did happen between them. But that absolutely would not stop the rumors that something happened from springing into existence, just like they did in F&B. There’s no way to keep these “meetings” a secret. In the best case scenario, Alicent marries Viserys and people whisper about the circumstances under which it took place. Worst case, Alicent’s reputation and chance to make a decent match is ruined.

Although obviously both these scenarios are disgusting, the Velaryons being very clear about their intentions and having it take place in a public setting is much more “honorable” in Westeros than Otto essentially telling Alicent to sneak around with the king and gain his trust. Although Laena is rejected by Viserys as a match, it doesn’t negatively affect her standing or reputation. This is not the same for Alicent.

Let’s go back to our worst case and say that Alicent’s “Vizzy Visits” become a scandal- while we, a modern audience, recognize fifteen year old Alicent is a victim, Westeros is a society that A) Regularly practices child marriages, at least among the nobility and B) Sees sixteen as the age of adulthood. Alicent would 100% be painted as an evil seductress who seduced the poor grieving king- hell, a lot of people in the fandom paint her that way in the 21st century! Otto, in an attempt to save face, could easily throw her under the bus. “Omg I can’t believe my daughter engaged in such scandalous behavior, things just haven’t been the same since her mother died :( poor me, pls don’t be mad, I had no idea.” If it’s Otto’s word vs Alicent’s, people will believe Otto.

Not to mention how aware he is of her friendship with Rhaenyra. And yes, Rhaenyra is just as much a member of Westerosi society as everyone else. She does not have the 21st century view of things we do. She at 14 has the responsibility of being heir to the Iron Throne with people swearing oaths to uphold her succession. Even if Alicent told her afterwards her father forced her into it, she just wouldn’t (and didn’t) understand- to her, Alicent and her both are becoming adults now and handling adult responsibilities and are accountable for their actions. Rhaenyra is headstrong, rebellious, and fiercely protective- “Because my dad told me to” is not going to cut it as an excuse. Otto knew this would ruin her friendship with Rhaenyra and didn’t care.

Now, the above analysis is mostly about the secrecy of it all. Rhaenyra didn’t seem to hold any ill will towards Laena in particular, which is why I believe her anger was as much about the secrecy of it as it was at the actual marriage itself. I think if Alicent was like “hey, my dad wants me to marry yours” there’s not much I can really do about it” she’d still probably balk but be much more accepting and sympathetic.

Now, look how they’re respectively dressed. Laena just has much more fabric covering her, with the cape sleeves and two layered dress, while Alicent’s is pretty form fitting. Not to mention the creepy incestous undertones when Otto instructs her to put on her mother’s dress and says how much she looks like her mom.

While both fathers are disgusting for doing this, Otto put his daughter in a much riskier situation where the question wasn’t if there would be fallout, just how much fallout there would be. By never formally and publicly declaring his intention to present Alicent as an option for the new Queen Consort, he put Alicent’s reputation and livelihood at stake in a way Laena’s was not. And this is not to take away from how inappropriate Laena’s situation was for a little girl. This is just to say-

When the bar is literally in hell, Otto Hightower finds a way to keep digging.

[slytherheign]

DAYLIGHT | charles leclerc

PART 2/3 OF LOVER: THE TRILOGY.

PAIRING: charles leclerc x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.4k

SUMMARY: amidst the dark nights, you find that one glimmer of hope—the light that shines and the one who stays. it’s morning now, and you only see daylight.

WARNINGS: angst, hate, cheating (past relationship), doubts, and hints of smut. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. dedicated to @paperplane93, i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO TO TRILOGY MASTERLIST or GO BACK TO THE STATION.

Love was as cruel as the cities you lived in.

It was a journey you'd been on countless times before, but each time, it seemed to slip through your fingers like sand, leaving you feeling like shattered glass. Past relationships have taught you bittersweet lessons, dousing the flames of hope and leaving behind a trail of broken dreams.

Everyone looked worse in the light—everyone, including you. The town’s kind, innocent, smart, pretty little girl who turned into a rebel once she packed her bags, left the door, and stepped into the light given by the outside.

There were so many lines you have crossed unforgiven. You left everything behind and never looked back as if you didn’t care. Your old friends and your family have finally called, you answered them but once they said what they wanted to say, you ended the calls and blocked them all. The conversation was always the same anyway—them trying to convince you to come back and warning you that what you were doing would lead to failure.

There was also someone you loved before Charles, someone you loved truly and sacrificed a lot for. It didn’t end well when you saw him kissing your old best friend. He apologized and begged for your forgiveness, and because you loved him so much, you gave him another chance. It took you a long while to realize he was blinding you with lies. When you caught him cheating again, you ran away, never to turn back to him ever again. The luck of the draw only draws the unlucky. And so, you became the butt of the joke.

You were mocked for your naive gambles, ridiculed for your missteps, and left with a haunting regret that you wounded the good and trusted the wicked. It seemed as though every step you took to clear the air, to make things right, only lured you further into the haze of smoke, choking you with the consequences of your choices. You have moved on from your past, never wanting to remember it again. The only thing you took with you were the memories and lessons of your mother you held dear. Your mother would be so mad if she knew you were choosing to forget where you came from, but it was what you needed to do if you wanted to be free. In clearing the air, you breathed in the smoke.

You believed that love was a journey, a rollercoaster of emotions, where the highs were exhilarating and the lows were heart-wrenching. But as time passed, the uncertainties crept in, weaving doubts within your mind like persistent cobwebs. You began to question if love was nothing more than a shimmering illusion teasing you from a distance.

You've mourned over shattered hopes and dreams, clinging to the emotional debris of past relationships. Each heartbreak left you more hesitant, more fearful of falling again. You became convinced that love was a game of chance, an unwinnable lottery that mocked your attempts at finding happiness.

But then, just when you had resigned yourself to a life of solitude, someone unexpectedly entered your life. His name was Charles, and he carried a light that danced within his eyes—a light that you hadn't seen in years.

You didn't want to look at anything else now that you saw him.

His presence illuminated the shadows within you—dissolving your doubts and fears. He saw beyond your scars and unraveled the tapestry of your soul. His patience and understanding breathed life into your broken spirit, assuring you that love could be different this time.

Slowly but surely, Charles guided you through the remnants of past hurt, showing you that vulnerability wasn't synonymous with weakness. Together, you wove a delicate tapestry of trust, honesty, and shared dreams. With each passing day, the walls you had built around your heart crumbled and exposed your true self to him.

In his arms, you discovered a love that was both gentle and fierce, a love that healed past wounds and ignited a sense of hope within you. He listened, truly listened, to the tremors of your heart, and matched them with his own desires. Your love wasn't perfect—no love ever was—but it was real and authentic.

You didn't want to think of anything else now that you thought of him.

With Charles, the idea of true love shifted in your mind. It was no longer an unattainable fantasy but a tangible reality—a reality that blossomed when two souls found solace in each other's embrace. He reminded you that your worthiness of love wasn't determined by your past failures but by the relentless hope you held within.

Through him, you learned that true love isn't a fluke or a mere stroke of luck. It was a conscious choice, an endless commitment to nurture and cherish a connection beyond what society deemed acceptable. 

You'd been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night.

In the past, you've allowed your vision to become clouded by the remnants of failed connections and relationships. You wandered the murky path of love with blinders on, seeking validation and approval from old friends and family. You desperately tried to fit into molds that suffocated you.

And now you saw daylight.

With Charles, everything felt different. His arrival into your life was like the first rays of sunlight after a long and relentless storm. You realized that all the heartbreaks and disappointments were not indicators of your worth. They were simply stepping stones, guiding you towards something that rose above anything you've ever experienced.

You've stormed out of every single room in your old town, left it without even saying goodbye. And you knew he wasn't perfect too. He had a past full of pain and losses. He made his career his focus, because every time he was racing, the voices in his head were drowned out by the noise of his car. He ran with the wolves and refused to settle down. 

You found solace, understanding, and acceptance with each other. The dark nights were over the moment you found him and he found you. You threw out your cloaks and your daggers because it was morning now. It was brighter now.

You were laughing so hard as Charles tickled your stomach. He pressed kisses to your neck down to your chest to where your heart was. He looked up at you, his eyes full of love and desire.

“Can I have you tonight, chérie?” he asked.

You nodded, eyes mirroring the desire in his. “You can have me any day and any night.”

You could see it all.

All of him, all of you, intertwined.

You once believed love would be black and white.

But it was golden.

“I love you,” he said in between his breaths. His forehead touched yours, a hand caressing your cheek as you both danced to a rhythm of love. 

You opened your eyes to stare at his. “I love you too, Charles.”

You could see it all in your head.

Back and forth from Monaco, sneaking into his bed.

You once believed love would be burning red.

But it was golden like daylight.

It was morning now. It was brighter, it was better, and it was worth the 20-year dark night you experienced before. You were learning and growing together. He defined you by the things you loved, not by the things you were afraid of or the things that haunted you in the middle of the night. For him, you were what you loved.

You were only seeing daylight.

And it was him.

It was Charles.

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, pierregasly, carlossainz55, and 998, 753 others

charles_leclerc Happy 2nd year anniversary, my daylight. @yourusername

view all 267, 890 comments

pierregasly a hard launch, finally

leclercsainz HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN PIERRE

pierregasly a couple months after they met

leclercsainz WHAT

cl16lover I JUST WOKE UP HELP

redleclerc NO CAUSE SAME

chilisainz CHARLES HARD LAUNCHING A SECRET 2 YEAR RELATIONSHIP WAS NOT ON MY 2023 BINGO CARD

forzaferrari i’m more surprised he was able to keep a secret this long tbh

chewie1644 MY DAYLIGHT EXCUSE ME GOODBYE

chilisainz fr i need someone to call me their daylight too

c2defender WHO IS THE GIRL

leclover someone on twitter posted a thread about her and it’s not looking good, yikes

c2defender omg why?

leclover apparently she abandoned her family or something

lestappensz yall should check the twitter thread about her

carlossaints drop the @ bestie

lestappensz i think it’s @charlesleclairs

simplylovely stop we don’t even know if any of those things are true

lestappensz girl i’m pretty sure her brother commented and confirmed everything was true

charlesleclairs LEAVE HER BEFORE SHE LEAVES YOU LIKE SHE LEFT HER FAMILY

You stepped into the daylight and let it all go.

The sky was painted with hues of hope, and your hearts were filled with a newfound understanding.

You just hoped the afterglow would be the same.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

FORMULA ONE TAGLIST: @dreamingofautopia @lpab @matildrry @fangirl125reader @tall-tanned-tattoo @aundercover @stevesworld9 @princessria127