#my shift. i was. i was there. just needed a moment to put on this stupid fucking ugly uncomfortable piece of shit uniform. so i was at the

[rafecameronssl4t]

The weight of expectations || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: I know you guys wanted more soft moments between Rafe and reader in this au so here you go!!!

Warnings: nothing!

Word count: 1,532

MASTERLIST (forced marriage au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The dimly lit office in the Cameron building had always carried an air of prestige, a reminder of the empire Ward Cameron had built with his own hands. But now, Rafe sat behind the polished mahogany desk, feeling the weight of that legacy pressing down on his shoulders.

His reflection in the window—sharp suit, tired eyes, jaw clenched—was one of a man constantly battling his own demons. Rafe’s phone buzzed, pulling him from his thoughts. The meeting with Mr. Cartwright was scheduled for five minutes ago, but knowing Cartwright, he would make him wait a little longer just to make a point.

Rafe’s lip twitched in annoyance. This was supposed to be simple—sign the deal, deliver, and collect the reward. But like everything in his life lately, nothing was as easy as it seemed. As if on cue, the heavy doors creaked open, and Mr. Cartwright strode in, his presence filling the room with the unmistakable arrogance of someone who thought he could toy with the Camerons.

Rafe hated men like him. Cartwright was older, maybe late forties, with graying hair slicked back and a suit so tailored it made a statement by itself. Still, Cartwright had power, and Rafe knew they needed him for this deal. Rafe’s eyes narrowed, but he stood, gesturing to the chair across from him. “You’re late.”

Cartwright smirked, unbothered. “You’ve got nothing but time, Cameron.” Rafe resisted the urge to slam his fist on the table. The conversation turned cold quickly, escalating from subtle jabs to outright confrontation as Cartwright slammed his hand on the desk. “This wasn’t the outcome we agreed on, Cameron. I expected the deal to be completed two weeks ago.”

Rafe gritted his teeth, leaning back in his chair, trying to play it cool. Cartwright was testing him, seeing if Rafe would break under pressure. “Things take time, Cartwright. We’re working on it. You can’t expect a project this size to wrap up overnight.” But Cartwright wasn’t having it.

“I expected results, not excuses. I trusted your family’s name—your father’s name—when I signed on to this. Now, you’re telling me I just need to ‘wait’? My investors don’t have time for your delays.” Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he leans back in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “I think you forget I was my father’s protégé, and now I’m handling the business. You underestimate me.”

“I don’t care what your investors think. The timelines shifted, and there’s nothing anyone can do about that. We’ll deliver, but on our schedule, not yours.” Mr. Cartwright slams his hand down on the table, eyes narrowing. “Your schedule is putting my reputation on the line. I’m not some small-time client you can string along. My name holds weight, and if your company can’t keep up, I’ll take my business elsewhere.”

Rafe’s eyes flicker with irritation, but he maintains his composure, though his tone becomes icier. “You’re not going anywhere, and we both know that.” He leans forward, his stare sharp. “You’ve invested too much in this project to pull out now. So let’s stop pretending you have the upper hand here.”

Mr. Cartwright scoffs, clearly insulted. “Your father knew how to handle his business. You, on the other hand, seem more interested in playing house with your perfect little wife and children than focusing on the deals that matter.” The mention of you brought heat rising to Rafe’s face.

His jaw clenched as he fought to control his temper. The comment hit too close to home. Cartwright had no idea what his marriage was like, the public façade they upheld, the tangled mess of feelings that simmered beneath the surface. “Mention my wife again, and you’ll regret it,” Rafe spat, his voice low and dangerous.

Cartwright just smirked. “Touchy subject, huh? Maybe if you focused on the business instead of her, this deal wouldn’t be falling apart.” That did it. Rafe was out of his chair, leaning over the desk, his eyes flashing with barely controlled rage. “You don’t get to talk about her. You signed the contract. You’ll get what we promised, but on our terms.”

“If you’re too much of a coward to stick it out, then fine—walk away. But you’re not going to find anyone better than me in this industry, and you know it.” The room was tense, their stares locked in a silent battle of wills. Cartwright didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened his suit jacket, his mouth set in a hard line.

“I’ll give you one month, Cameron. If this doesn’t turn around by then, I’ll make sure everyone knows how your family is crumbling—starting with you. Rafe forced himself to relax, stepping back from the desk, his smirk returning, though there was no warmth behind it. “One month. You’ll get your results. But you don’t scare me, Cartwright. Cross me, and you’ll regret it.”

With one final glance, Cartwright turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, leaving Rafe standing alone, the weight of the confrontation settling over him. He ran a hand through his hair, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

~

It was nearing 8 p.m. when Rafe pulled into the driveway, his mind still buzzing from the heated argument with Cartwright. He had no doubt he could deliver on the deal—he always found a way. But tonight, Cartwright’s words had gotten under his skin in a way that lingered, like a dull throb at the back of his mind.

The quiet of the house was almost unsettling as he stepped inside, the weight of the day’s events hanging heavily on his shoulders. Making his way upstairs, Rafe entered the bedroom, immediately spotting you on the bed, nursing Leo. Your eyes were closed, head leaned back against the headboard, one hand gently patting Leo’s back as he fed contentedly.

Rafe sighed, running a hand over his face, feeling the tension in his body slowly begin to ease. As complicated as things were between you, there was an undeniable comfort in your presence—an unspoken understanding that neither of you acknowledged but both felt. Rafe quietly crossed the room, his gaze softening as he approached.

Leo’s wide eyes met his, curious and bright. Rafe couldn’t help but smile, reaching out to gently stroke his son’s cheek. Leo’s tiny hand immediately grasped Rafe’s finger, holding on tight. A warmth spread through Rafe’s chest, and for a moment, the stress of the day melted away. His eyes shifted back to you.

Your breathing was calm, features relaxed in a way that made you look at peace, despite everything swirling around your lives. There was something soothing about the scene in front of him—something grounding. Leo’s eyes never left Rafe, watching his father with that same innocent curiosity. “Tough day?” Your voice, soft but alert, broke the silence.

Rafe’s gaze snapped up, meeting your half-lidded eyes as you watched him, though you hadn’t moved. He straightened, clearing his throat as he walked to the dresser, his back turned to you. “Just another asshole trying to tell me how to run my business,” he muttered, slipping off his watch and setting it down with more force than necessary.

“Cartwright’s testing me,” Rafe continued, running a hand through his hair before heading turned back around, leaning against the dresser. “Thinks I’m not my father.” Your gaze softened as you watched him. “You’re not your father, Rafe. And that’s not a bad thing.”

His blue eyes searched yours, trying to figure out if you truly meant it. There was a sincerity there, a quiet support that he wasn’t used to. It disarmed him for a moment, making him pause as he watched you with a curiosity that mirrored his son’s. The way you moved so naturally—so gracefully—as you gently lifted Leo and placed him in his bassinet beside the bed was a sight he found himself quietly admiring.

A soft sigh left your lips as you tucked him in, smoothing the blankets before slipping back beneath the sheets. You glanced up at him, still leaning against the dresser, lost in thought. “Are you going to get ready for bed?” you asked, your voice soft but carrying that calm tone you always seemed to have when it came to him.

There was no pressure, just a simple question, but it tugged at something deeper within Rafe. He cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he muttered, his voice low as he turned back to the dresser, his fingers absently fiddling with the cufflinks on his shirt.

But he didn’t move right away. Instead, he stood there for a moment longer, watching you settle into the bed, the quiet intimacy of the moment wrapping around him like a comfort he hadn’t realised he needed. Despite the chaos that always seemed to swirl around them—around him—there was a strange sense of peace in this room, in this space they shared.

Even if it wasn’t always easy, even if things between them were complicated, there was something grounding in the quiet moments like these. And as much as Rafe hated to admit it, those moments were starting to mean more to him than he had ever expected.

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

Opposites Attract

Astrid Deetz x Fem!Reader

Summary- You had been a psychic ever since you were a child, but recently you had been overwhelmed by how many spirits were contacting you, giving you no time to yourself anymore. Seeking out Lydia Deetz, you go to her home for advice.

Requested by @perfectartisanwerewolf

Warnings- Ghosts, probably some timeline issues, morbid facts, talking about the afterlife, more of my ghost facts (Tell me when you're getting sick of them)

When you met the Deetz family, it was several years after the whole "Ghost House" incident. They had always been kind to you and your family.

The ghosts in Winter River were more plentiful than most people knew. It happened to be a very quiet and uneventful town, but your life never had a dull moment here. You were constantly sought out after Lydia had moved. Now the deceased flocked to you for guidance.

Apparently, they described your psychic abilities as "A shining light in the never-ending darkness". Which would be flattering if they hadn't always been around you for every second of your day. Some spirits followed you to the grocery store, to school, and even sat at your desk while you were sleeping, waiting for you to awaken.

You wanted to help them; you really did. It was just that the only privacy you got now a days was when you excused yourself to use the facilities.

Recently there had been a death in the Deetz family, so Lydia had returned to town with her daughter to attend the funeral and help her stepmother, Deelia. It was like a saving grace to have someone else help with the spirits around the place.

Walking up the giant hill to their home with a stack of books in your hand was proving difficult, but you needed Lydia's help desperately. You waited patiently after knocking on their door, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

Lydia welcomed you into their home with a smile. After making your way to the couch and placing your books on the table, you took a quick look around the room. There were still many of Deelia's sculptures, most of them unsettling to say the very least.

Your attention shifted back to Lydia as she sat across from you. Talking about ghosts with anyone else might have been awkward, but not with her. She was almost like a second mother to you.

Even now as you sat in the house, you could sense spirits lingering just outside your line of sight.

"I agree, it can be overwhelming, you just need to learn how to set boundaries with them." She explained simply and you nodded.

"I thought I did, but I guess I could try and be sterner with them?"

Her smile grew and you both turned as you heard footsteps descending the staircase. Astrid was in the middle of putting on her sweater to leave the house when she stopped and stared at you, as if in a trance. You smiled and offered her a small wave, trying to be polite.

Your smile awakened something in Astrid. Like a light at the end of a tunnel. A breath of fresh air, or a missing puzzle piece to finally complete a part of herself that had been missing for years. The world faded as all she could focus on was you. She snapped out of it with a cough, finally making her way to stand in the living room with you both.

Lydia introduced you and in turn introduced her daughter, Astrid. It took a moment for her to regain her composure before she muttered an almost completely quiet "Hi."

On the inside, her heart pounded against her chest, but she fought to remain uninterested in anything that involved her mother. Especially now that it seemed like a complete stranger could easily occupy her mother's attention without even trying. It was frustrating.

It was an odd experience, how you made her heart pound. She wasn't sure if it was from jealousy or something more, so she opted to ignore it and continue her journey out the door.

A frown grazed your lips, confused by her behavior before you shifted back to continue your conversation from before. Lydia spoke up first. "Astrid can't see ghosts like we can. The living ignore the strange and unusual."

That didn't seem to brighten up your mood even in the slightest.

"You're saying Mrs. bright eyes can also supposedly see ghosts? Great, here I thought she seemed normal. Is there anyone normal in this town?" Astrid scrunched her nose and picked at her food as she sat at the kitchen table.

"Whatever makes us more money, maybe she could be on your show Lydia!" Deelia smiled as she continued eating, only half paying attention to their conversation.

"Maybe you would be more interested if you talked to her about it, Astrid. It could be good for you to have some friends in this town." Lydia suggested, trying to stray away from yet another argument with her daughter.

"Ghosts are everywhere, you may even see one without even realizing it. Have you ever seen someone walking on the side of the street, but when you look back they're gone?" You smiled; your books open in front of you as you spoke enthusiastically to Astrid.

You sat in her room, a stark contrast from your own. While you liked the paranormal and macabre, her room seemed more... gloomy.

Did you know how much light you radiated? Or the shimmer that appeared in your gorgeous eyes whenever you spoke about this mumbo jumbo? Astrid didn't care for spirits or the paranormal. She believed it was all fake, but the way you spoke to her and the way you looked, she swore she would follow you anywhere.

She simply nodded, trying to snap out of that trance you put her in. Sometimes she believed you must've been a witch instead of a psychic, because how had you possibly gained so much power over her cold heart?

"Are there any here now? You know, ghosts?" her eyebrow raised curiously, just thinking of an excuse for you to speak more.

"I know there is one here, but I haven't been able to place it. It's a male energy."

"Do you use candles or sprinkle some paprika on stuff for rituals?"

Her enthusiasm was great, if not a bit misplaced and incorrect. Your smile widened as you laughed, a freeing sound.

"I've been talking forever, how about you tell me something you're interested in? I know you don't care about this stuff"

Astrid froze, fearing that you caught her. She cleared her throat and blushed softly, looking away as she wracked her brain for anything interesting to say. "Did you know that Mount Everest has a certain area called 'Rainbow Valley' because of all the multicolored jackets and climbing gear that's still attached to the mummified corpses of those who failed to get to the top and froze to death?"

Your head tilted and silence loomed between you both before she spoke again.

"A cult leader named Jim Jones poisoned 918 people by forcing them to drink Kool-Aid mixed with cyanide, chloral hydrate, valium and Phenergan. It was considered one of the largest intentional losses of life since 9/11." She continued talking, trying her best to fill the silence.

Your giggles made her stop digging a deeper hole for herself. You looked amused and not terrified in the least. "Why Kool-Aid?"

"Probably because it was the cheapest" Astrid smiled wide at you, happy that you didn't see her as some sort of creep.

The next morning, Astrid was determined to gain more information about spirits, wanting another chance to spend time with you. She even went as far as to ask her mother for help, which she would deny until the end of her days.

Surprisingly, it wasn't as painful as she thought it would be. It was actually nice to have a common interest. Or so Lydia thought at least. Meanwhile she was interested in you, and not in fact her mother's psychic abilities.

By the time you showed up at her house, she opened the door to you and smiled softly, gesturing for you to come inside. She soon regretted that action as if you would think she was a dork for gesturing like a ringleader in some cheesy circus movie.

You didn't seem to notice her inner turmoil, simply enjoying the fact that she invited you back, saying she had something to share with you.

Sitting on her bed with your legs crossed, you leaned your head in your hand as you gave her your full attention. Everything you did seemed to light a spark in her chest.

"I learned some stuff about ghosts and wanted to run it by you. Maybe I could add it in with my history facts" Astrid spoke with a little more enthusiasm, as if excited to share with you.

She took a deep breath as she tried remembering all of the things her mother had previously told her. "Is it true that there are different types of ghosts? And that they're not all humans?"

You nod your head and sit up a little straighter. "Yes. There are many different classifications of ghosts, including non-human ghosts that never had a soul. Those may include poltergeists, which are simply manifestations of negative energy in a certain space. Thats why you can't communicate intelligently with a poltergeist, because they have no soul or sense of being. They're just energy."

That actually caught her attention, maybe the paranormal wasn't as fake as she thought it was. How could someone possibly come up with a lie that detailed in such a short amount of time? She sat beside you and resisted the urge to kiss you right there and then. Never in her life has she been attracted to someone simply because of their interests and passion when speaking about them.

"Will you go uh... ghost hunting with me at Dracula's castle this summer? I was planning on going there alone after... after my dad passed away. But I'd like you there."

You smiled brightly and wrapped your arms around her shoulders, hugging her tightly. "I would love to"

Bonus:

Lydia stood a careful distance away from Astrid's bedroom door. She wanted to give her daughter some privacy, but she was overjoyed to see the smile return to Astrid's face. The one that had been lost since her father.

She argued that it was to see what about you made her so happy. As she leaned in closer, she heard a gruff voice behind her, making her jump.

"Thats our daughter alright" He spoke, munching on a bucket of popcorn. He leaned against the wall smugly, watching Lydia with a smirk.

Her smile vanished as she stared him down. "Beetl-" She began to utter before he waved his hand dismissively.

"Alright, alright. Your Kid" He huffed out an annoyed sigh before vanishing.

A/N- I finally finished writing this one and I hope that it's to your liking! I tried my best. Usually, I base the reader off of myself to make writing it easier but I tried to switch it up a bit this time.

Thank you all for your patience with me writing this, and I'm sorry for the delay.

Please send in more requests! Next I will be working on a lost boys fic and the second part to the tom riddle series

Credits-

Book Divider- @firefly-graphics

Green swirl divider- @anitalenia

---

Taglist: @mirage018

[lilspacewolfie]

Lazy Sunday Gaming

Content: 639 words, Copia x gn!reader, soft and sleepy gaming session with Copia, cuddling and snuggling, short and sweet, I wrote this on my phone on a sunday morning when i was half asleep please enjoy <3

“Merda…”

Copia’s whispered, breathy swear pulls you from the cloud you’ve been floating on this morning as you feel his chest dip. His thumping heart, which has been lulling you into a peaceful half-slumber on this lazy Sunday morning, has picked up a little.

“Dead again?” You mutter, narrowly opening one eye to see that he has indeed died again. 

Copia makes a soft, irritated noise and shifts his left arm, which has been curved loosely around you, so he can still hold the controller to the console.

The two of you had woken up early that morning, which on a Sunday, waking up any time before nine am might as well be considered a sin. You’d gotten about as far as coffee in bed before ending up back in Copia’s loving embrace. 

“It’s… this is impossible, amore,” he mutters, hitting the reload button and feeling the way the huff he lets out sounds with your ear to his breast.

“I did warn you the first time you see the T-rex it’ll scare the shit out of you,” you mumbles, smiling to yourself. “It got me the first time. The music makes the reveal too, you know?” 

“Sì, you did say. I should understand what you meant. I’m sorry if I woke you,” Copia presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

You giggle at that. He’d put on a brave face for it the first time the music started to kick in, but you know your Copia. Your soft, sensitive Copia. His voice sounds thick in his chest, his accent is more prominent when he's not fully switched on or used to speaking too much. You adore him and these private moments when it's just the two of you; when he’s just Copia and not Papa. 

The two of you readjust, rewinding your limbs together while you climb higher up his right side. You climb a bare thigh around him, humming at the sensation of the cotton burgundy sweats he favours, tucking your head into the crook of his neck. He’d showered before making you both coffee, but the pleasant musk of sleep hadn’t quite left him yet. He always smells heavenly, dare you say, even delectable. Who needs breakfast when you have him?

You start moving your fingers beneath his shirt again, scraping your nails lightly across the pudge of his belly and through the curls of hair that cover his soft skin. Copia hums, his belly twitching at your touch.

“How did you play this when you were so young?” He asks and you close your eyes again when he strokes a hand through your hair while the game reloads. His bare fingers and nails graze across your tender scalp, sending warm tingles down your spine. This is bliss. 

“I mean… I was five so I died a lot, if that helps. Tomb Raider is a classic, I’m surprised you’ve not played it.” When Copia makes one of his usual noises, the kind of sound when he doesn’t know what else to say, you can’t help but chuckle. 

You open your eyes again, tipping your chin up until your noise is nuzzled into the side of his jaw. You press a kiss to the curve of his jaw and he sighs, swapping hands so he can reach up and stroke your cheek.

“You got this baby,” you mumble encouragingly. “Remember, the Raptors and Rex aren’t real and they can't hurt you.” 

You splay your hand up higher beneath his shirt, dipping into the valleys of his chest. Copia chuckles, kisses your forehead and you feel his focus locking in on the game once more. His drive is always something you admire, his grit and determination, even in the face of something that unnerves him.

These are Sundays you love. With Copia and the Rex, too.

masterlist ⛧ Ao3

[shirefantasies]

hello! I have a request for a fanfic (not sure if this would fit into a reaction/imagine category but still going for it) with a fellowship member x reader! (character could be up to you) scenario: reader is part of the fellowship and while climbing Caradhras, reader falls behind and gets lost in the snow. they become buried, and the fellowship member becomes frantic and tries to search for them, digging around in the snow. if this seems to complicated, that's okay, but it's an idea that's been floating in my head ^^

Hope you like the character I chose 😄 someone who hasn't gotten a one shot now and whom I thought was perfect for this prompt! Warnings: brief fear/peril, minor injury

Hold Fast to Me- Legolas x Reader (Drabble)

Buffeting, whipping sound filled your ears, a cacophony of nature's own making that nothing of your ability could silence. Every step grew more and more difficult, your feet catching and dragging through the chill of piling snow. The rest of the Fellowship grew further and further away as you struggled to combat the gale of wind blowing against you.

You could not have even stated what caused it, what moment you fell, but suddenly the ground was before you, your horizon turned white as you tripped and tumbled headfirst into air and snow. Falling frost quickly plummeted and pelted your back as you slid fecklessly, breaths speeding but providing little warmth amidst the drift you had tumbled down into. Scrabbling hands pulled you slightly upward and it was then that you realized two things: one, your ankle lit aflame with pain the moment you put weight upon it, and two, the fact that your tumble had been down into a natural pit of sorts. A snowed-in ditch, probably one of the last before the path up the mountain narrowed.

Tears of frustration pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought, trying your best to ignore the burning of your ankle and just fling yourself up out of the frosty predicament. The more you tried, though, the greater the shreds of snow that rained down with your aching body.

Should you cry out? Would the others even hear? Had they noticed you were lost? Your mind rattled with questions, only ceasing as further cold seeped into your clothing, moistening your outer layers. Ragged breaths emerged from you like puffs of smoke as you stood, a fist resting against the pack of snow. Deep within your mind, you were aware your emotions were overtaking you, but the rapid fall of snow upon your already frost-kissed body was as overwhelming as any frustration, any worry that you had failed your Ring-Bearer, failed the fellowship...

The sound of your name was what restrained you from your next attempted leap, pulling your gaze from the wall of snow and your thoughts from that twisting haze.

"I am here!" You called back. "I... I fell!"

"Are you hurt?"

Voice much closer and gentler this time, Legolas leaned over the ledge of the ditch, locks of golden hair dangling in the air between you, almost close enough to tickle your nose.

“Yes,” you admitted, gaze falling from his and head hanging, “I think I landed wrongly on my ankle. It’s not broken, but-”

“Come here,” he beckoned, tone gentle enough to coax your gaze back into his soothing brown eyes.

Legolas extended a hand to you. Shifting as close as you could, entire body pressed against the wall once more, you reached up. Tangling your fingers together, the elven prince tightened his grip and tugged. Responding to the pressure, you summoned all your strength and heaved up toward Legolas, throwing your good leg onto the snow and this time supporting a clumsy grip on the ditch's edge. Wobbling up over the snowy lip, your palms numb from cold's bite, you tumbled onto the ground, icy water soaking once again into your back. Shuddering against a new wave of cold, you remained hunched on the ground for the passing of several moments before kneeling. On your good leg, of course.

"No need for that," Legolas told you with a shake of his head.

Before you could protest, a response admittedly weakened by your snowy ordeal, you were lifted once more, this time upon the elf's shoulders.

"Hold fast to me," he urged again, still no command in his words.

All you could do was nod despite Legolas not being able to see you, feeling warmth pooling beneath your cheeks when the prince's hands hooked under your thighs. Wandering not, they steadily supported your spread legs, keeping your wounded ankle dangling out, not a hint of pressure upon it.

"Will you bear this burden until we reach the others? Until we camp?"

"Worry not. The snow is nothing to me." You could hear the smile in Legolas's voice, let alone what quirking of his lips you caught from his visible profile. "Even if it was not, I would endure it for you. Not long after you must have fallen, I ran."

"You noticed?"

"Absolutely. And what better way to get in an extra trek through the snow?” He teased, fully turning to face you best he could with that glowing, cheeky smile you couldn’t help giving right back.

“Well then, I’m glad my twisted ankle and I could be of service.”

“Keep it still. I’ll see to it once we return to the others.”

Straightening your leg as best you could, your face was cut across with another wince as its muscles drew tight. Legolas's hand slid down a bit further to grant you further support as he effortlessly crossed the snow, bounding over the heavily iced ground easily as if it was a spring field.

Legolas quietly acknowledged greetings and questions by Boromir as he carried you further through the fellowship's huddle beneath an overhang of rock. In Elvish he made a request to Aragorn; the ranger seemingly acquiesced, stepping behind his friend to loosen his cape and lower it upon the ground, at which point you were lowered. Kneeling, the prince who had carried you laid you gently upon the thick fabric.

"Worry not," Legolas comforted you as he gathered supplies, voice low and soothing, "Your ankle will at least be stabilized soon."

"So I can expect no further rides, then?"

“Perhaps not,” Legolas teased back, “Although I do suspect you'll still need some help taking those first steps. Hold fast to me once more, then."

"To you?"

"Only to me, I hope," he all but whispered to you, looking up from binding your ankle with a soft smile.

"Who else?" You asked with a smile of your own.

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[willowrites]

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 … jake woke up with a deep desire for you

you felt jake stir in bed beside you. you felt the warmth of his body as well as the warmth of the duvet wrapped around the both of you. you’d moved as well causing his arms to tighten around your waist and pull you closer.

you felt his cock harden against you. he hummed in your ear uncomfortably. he tried to shift so that he wasn’t in pain but his need for you was strong. the reason for that was because jake had dreamt of you, — like he always does but this dream in particular was vivid. he felt as if it was real and he genuinely felt everything that you were doing only to wake up to it being a dream.

he pulled you tighter making a whiny noise. you couldn’t tell if he was awake or not but he started grinding up against you in small movements.

your eyebrows furrowed but your eyed stayed closed. “what are you doing?” you mumbled out into the dark. you could see the sunlight peeking through the blackout curtains.

he groaned up against you. “mmph — need you so bad, baby.” he mumbled. you could hear his breathing become heavier as you felt his arm moving up and down behind you. he was rubbing on himself trying to relieve some tension. “just wanna be inside you and make you feel good.. wanna wake you up lovin’ on you.” he kissed your cheek then the back of your neck — over and over again.

his actions caused in between your legs to become aroused. you clenched your thighs.

you sensed his smile from behind you. “c’mon baby, you don’t have to do any of the work. i gotcha..” his hands went to the waistband of your panties toying with them. you bit your lip slightly before reaching back and putting your hands over his.

you guided him to pull them down before pushing back against him. he chuckled in response to your actions. “that’s my girl.. always ready for me.” he praised, lining himself with your entrance. you felt him fill you moving your hand to hold onto the back of his head behind you.

he stood still before thrusting slowly into you. “mmm - good morning..” he smiled, keeping his lips on your ear. you pressed your lips together feeling him hit the sensitive spot inside you. your mouth fell agape as he continued thrusting inside you. “so warm.. love being inside you like this. love starting my mornings like this.”

you pushed back against him to meet his hips. “feels so good jake.” you whimpered, hands moving down to your clit to get you closer.

you loved mornings like this. where you both intimately connected with each other with so much love.

jake grunted feeling himself come close to his orgasm. “fuckin love you so much, baby.” his arms were wrapped all the way around you pulling you close — slow thrusts accompanied you both as jake jerked his hips forward.

your mouth fell open as you felt yourself hit the edge first. “yes yes — i love you jake.” you gasped as your body seized in his arms.

the pleasure was blinding as per usual. you clenched around jake, bringing him to his own wave of pleasure. the two of you savored the feeling before calming down.

you both muttered i love you’s to each other while enjoying the moment between you two and the perfect start to your morning.

© willowrites

[chicgeekgirl89]

Rating: K Summary: T.K. is eager to return to the firehouse for his first shift post-icy pond coma. He's feeling great, excited, and ready for anything. What he doesn't expect is a surprise visit from a lonely Carlos in the middle of the night. A/N: This one has been sitting for a while and I figured I should probably release it before we FINALLY get some new material to work with this week!!

Read on AO3

“Did you pack extra socks?”

“Yes.”

“Your vitamins? Your hoodie?”

“Yes, Carlos.”

“I put an extra blanket for you in a bag by the door, make sure you grab it on your way out.”

“Okay, this is starting to feel more like my first day of Kindergarten than my first day back at work,” T.K. chuckles. 

Carlos shifts uncomfortably and huffs. “I just want to make sure you have everything you need.”

T.K. puts a hand on his chest, steadying him. “I’m going to the firehouse. Not the moon. If I need something you can bring it to me. It’s twelve hours Carlos. One overnight shift. I’ll be okay.”

“I still think maybe you should have waited until there was a day shift available,” Carlos insists. “You need your sleep.”

“Babe, I want to go back. I need to go back. If I sit around here for much longer I’m going to go crazy,” T.K. says gently. “The doctors cleared me, my dad cleared me, Tommy cleared me. I’m good to go.”

“Nobody asked me if I cleared you,” Carlos grumbles low, almost as if he doesn’t mean for T.K. to hear it. 

T.K.’s mouth twists into a half smile that he tries to suppress. Carlos has been extremely attentive and serious about T.K.’s recovery care since coming home from the hospital. There have been schedules and spreadsheets and alarm reminders about medications and appointments. T.K. has been plied with so much of Andrea’s soup that it feels like his eyeballs could float.

He still tires a little quicker than normal, especially toward the end of the day, and he hasn’t quite shaken off the permanent chill that ate its way into his bones in that frozen pond, but he feels almost back to one hundred percent. And he’s definitely well enough to get through one shift. 

“I will be okay,” T.K. promises him. “If anything feels off I’ll tell Tommy and come right home.”

Carlos eyes him, still not convinced. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

His phone buzzes and he checks it. “Nancy’s here. I’ll see you in a few hours. You’ll barely even know I’m gone.”

“Be safe,” Carlos says. 

It was their standard standard farewell before. Before the fire and the breakup and the ice.

“I will,” T.K. responds. The words have an odd weight in his chest. The last time he went to work they were broken up. He couldn’t promise Carlos that he would be safe, and he wasn’t. He fell through a frozen pond and died and woke up to a second chance with the love of his life.

It feels good to be able to make that promise again.

“Love you,” he says, pecking Carlos on the lips as he shoulders his work bag.

“Love you too,” Carlos says. “Ah! Blanket!” he calls as T.K. reaches for the doorknob.

T.K. accepts the bag from him. “Thanks Mom.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond, slightly embarrassed smile on his lips. “Shut up.”

T.K. takes the elevator down to the ground floor and exits out the front doors to where Nancy is parked and waiting. “Aw yeah!!” she yells out the car window. “Get in loser! We’re going to work!”

T.K. throws his bag giddily into the back seat and buckles his seatbelt. ���Freedoooom!!” he crows happily as she puts it into gear.

“Oh, yeah, like it’s been so hard for you recovering with Carlos catering to your every whim,” Nancy teases. 

She’s not wrong; he has no complaints. Carlos has been with him as much as possible for the last few weeks, rebuilding the fractured splinters of their relationship into something that finally feels solid again. T.K.’s heart is nearly as recovered as his body. There have been painful moments, lots of tears, anger, and some difficult confessions, but already T.K. feels stronger for it. The break up was awful, and part of him still hates himself for his role in it, but it almost feels worth it to be where they are now. 

“So catch me up on the gossip,” T.K. says as they drive. “What’s the firehouse tea?”

“Mm! Yes! God, I missed you,” Nancy says fervently. “Okay. Someone froze Paul’s boxers last week and he’s still so mad about it. He thinks it was Mateo.”

“And was it?”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ and smiles wickedly. “It was me and Marj.”

“Nice.” T.K. sinks into the seat, already feeling like he’s settling back into normal. “What else?”

“Torbin’s girlfriend left him. Again,” she says. “And your dad found the decoy candy stash, but the real one is still safe.”

“Third cabinet from the left behind the spare hoses?”

“You know it.”

“Are there Sour Patch Kids?”

She takes her eyes off the road for a second to smile at him. “I restocked them for you as a welcome back gift.”

“Aw, thanks Nance,” he says, heart warming at her kindness. 

The entire 126 has stepped in a major way over the last few weeks. The fridge in the loft hasn’t been empty of food once, everyone has stopped by to check on him, and the group text thread has been full of encouraging and silly texts. It had hurt to watch them all get back to work once the station opened; he’d been able to attend the ceremony but hadn’t been cleared for duty yet. But tonight they will finally be all together again.

When they arrive the house is quiet. There’s no flurry of activity in the bays; everything is oddly silent and dark. 

“What’s going on?” T.K. asks as they get out of Nancy’s car, nerves fluttering. Have they been shut down again for some reason? They literally just reopened a couple weeks ago, if they’ve been taken out of service already….

The lights flick on and there’s a cacophonous shout of “SURPRISE!” as the whole team pops out from behind the engine and the ambulance. There’s a giant banner with “Welcome Back T.K.” on the front of the rig, along with balloons and streamers, and Paul is holding a massive cake.

The grin that splits T.K.’s face is so wide it hurts and he feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes. It’s Marjan who comes to him first, holding out her arms as she runs over for a hug. “Welcome back,” she says warmly and he squeezes her tightly before letting go to catch the next person in line.

Judd claps a hand onto his shoulder. “Good to have you home brother.”

“Thanks,” T.K. says. “And please tell Grace thank you again for all the meals. It’s made our lives so much easier these last couple weeks.”

Even with a newborn in the house, somehow Grace had managed to send over meals to make sure Carlos and T.K. didn’t starve during his convalescence. 

“Yeah between you and Paul she’s been basically running a catering company out of our kitchen,” Judd says. “Gotta make sure everybody’s taken care of. But you’re cut off now,” he announces loudly. “Time for y’all to do your own cookin’ again.”

“Bro, I can’t believe you didn’t even lose any toes or anything,” Mateo says when it’s his turn. His hug is accompanied by a back slap that chokes the breath out of T.K. for a second. “I mean it’s good, but like, that would have been pretty gnarly.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I kept all my appendages,” T.K. says. “I find them pretty essential.”

“Still, would have been a cool story,” Mateo says a little wistfully.

“Mateo his story is already plenty cool,” Paul says. “In fact, it’s so cool, it’s almost frozen solid. And that is why we got you this cake.”

He holds it up for T.K.’s inspection and T.K. bursts into laughter. It’s got Frozen characters all over it and reads “The Cold Never Bothered T.K. Anyway.” 

“It’s an ice cream cake,” Paul says proudly, like this is the greatest collective idea they’ve ever had.

“I love it,” T.K. says. “It’s perfect.”

“Okay, okay, let the adults have a turn,” Tommy says, breaking through the crowd and pulling T.K. into a warm, soft hug. “Welcome back T.K. It’s so good to see you well.”

T.K. hugs her back, a little extra tight. He’s very aware that he’s not the only one who lived through several days of trauma because of that pond. This woman’s hands saved his life, kept his heart beating long enough for help to arrive. Even when the question of whether he’d live had been answered, there was still uncertainty about how functional he would be. That he’s back at work like nothing ever happened is astonishing. It’s a triumph for both of them.

“Cap I don’t—“ The words stick in his throat because how do you thank someone for doing what she did?

She pulls back and squeezes his shoulders. “I know baby,” she says softly, eyes looking a little moist. “It’s okay. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Tommy looks past him and T.K. turns to find his dad. “C’mere kiddo,” he says warmly and T.K. ducks his head, slightly embarrassed by this display of fatherly affection in front of his team. “Love you,” his dad murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to his hair before patting him sharply on the back. “All right team! Let’s celebrate the 126 being finally, officially back together!”

T.K. takes a photo with the cake to send to Carlos before they cut into it. Paul makes sure T.K. gets the piece with Elsa’s face on it and they all talk and joke and laugh like no time has passed at all.

When the bells go off he feels a thrill go down his spine, excitement tinged with a little bit of nerves. “You ready?” Nancy asks as they climb into the rig.

“You know it,” he says with a grin. “Cap?”

Tommy buckles in. “Let’s roll.”

“Yeah!!! TNT is back in action!” Nancy honks the horn as they roll out of the garage and peal off toward an elderly slip and fall.

It’s a relatively easy call, a good, low stress reintroduction to the job. They drop the woman off at the hospital with a possible concussion and sprained ankle and are on their way back to the station when another call comes in for a fire in a single family home.

They meet up with the rest of the crew at the address, where they find a relatively small, but smoky kitchen fire. They’re not needed beyond basic first aid and are sent to a call for a choking at a restaurant next. 

T.K. is practically buzzing with energy by the time they finally get back to the station an hour later. Some of it is probably sugar from the large piece of cake he downed before they started, but he’s also flying high on the joy of saving people. He’d known he missed the job, but he hadn’t realized quite how much until he’d snapped on his gloves and started taking vitals again. 

He bounces out of the ambulance into the bay, already knowing that he’s not going to sleep at all tonight. Maybe he can persuade Mateo to pull a Mario Kart all nighter with him.

It’s past ten but the rest of the crew is still up, most of them in the showers still trying to get the stench of the kitchen fire off. T.K. is on his way to grab a second piece of cake when he hears Judd call his name from the doorway to the locker room.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Found something that belongs to you,” Judd says, an odd smirk on his face.

“Something that belongs to me?” T.K. wrinkles his nose. He’s barely been back five hours, what could he possibly be missing already? 

As realization dawns he rolls his eyes. “Is this a welcome back prank? What’d you do? Put my keys in jello? Hide a fish in my locker?”

“Nope,” Judd says. “You’d better go check your bunk though. It’s waitin’ for ya.”

His bunk? What the hell? Giving Judd a final suspicious look he heads for the bunk room.  

He enters with caution, aware that this is likely a trap. When his eyes adjust to the darkened lighting he finds Judd was right; there is a familiar lump that most definitely belongs to him curled up in the middle of his bed. T.K.’s heart stutters and he crosses the room in only a few strides, sinking down onto the edge of the mattress.

His hand automatically goes to Carlos’ forehead, fear that his boyfriend has somehow become ill or injured in the hours since he left home at the forefront of his mind. “Babe,” he says worriedly, brushing his fingers across Carlos’ face and down his neck.

Carlos’ eyelids flutter and he blinks up soft, brown, confused eyes at T.K. before quickly pushing up to a sitting position. “Hey,” he says, a little breathless as he tries to recover from his late night nap. 

“Baby, are you okay?” T.K. asks, his fingers still worriedly searching for signs of fever or injury.

“Yeah, yes, I’m fine,” Carlos says, clearing his throat and scooting back so there’s some space between them. 

Relief extinguishes the spike of adrenaline in T.K.’s veins and he relaxes a little as curiosity takes over. “What are you doing here then? Did something happen at home?”

Carlos’ face takes on a slightly evasive look. “No, everything’s fine at the loft.” 

“Then why are you asleep in my bunk?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was just waiting for you.” The words are quick, almost defensive.

“Waiting for me?” T.K. frowns. “Did you come all the way over here just to make sure I haven’t passed out or something? Seriously Carlos, we talked about this. I promised I would be careful.”

“No, that’s not—I wasn’t—“ Carlos huffs in frustration and T.K. tries to read the look on his face without success.

“Baby, what is it?”

Carlos looks down at his hands and mumbles something that T.K. doesn’t catch. “What?” he asks, confusion and concern clouding his happy back-to-work buzz.

Carlos sighs and meets his gaze, embarrassment all over his face. “I said, I missed you.”

T.K. softens at these words. “You came all the way over here because you missed me?”

“It’s stupid,” Carlos says, his discomfort at this vulnerable admission written into every line of his body.

“No,” T.K. says, scooching a little closer to him. “No, baby, no. It’s not stupid.”

“It is stupid,” Carlos says. “I’m a grown man. I should be able to spend one night without my boyfriend.”

“It’s okay,” T.K. says with a chuckle. “We’ve spent a lot of time together lately. It’s cute that you got lonely without me.”

“This was dumb, I’m gonna go.” Carlos starts to get up, but T.K. catches his hand. 

“No, stay for a little bit.”

Carlos sinks back down reluctantly. “Isn’t everyone coming up soon? It’s late.”

“They’re still cleaning up downstairs. And Judd knows we’re up here. He’ll probably make them give us a few minutes.”

He grabs Carlos’ arm and pulls it around his waist, scooting backward toward the center of the small mattress and pushing against Carlos’ body.

“What are you doing?” Carlos asks in confusion.

“Come on, snuggle me. You drove all the way over here, might as well get some cuddles to remember me by in our bed tonight.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, come on.” T.K. wiggles his butt invitingly until Carlos slides down and spoons him the way he wants. “See? Better already, right?”

Carlos huffs a laugh against the back of T.K.’s neck. It’s a tight fit, both of them on this twin size firehouse mattress, but they squirm around and manage to find a position that’s comfortable enough.  

T.K. waits, feeling Carlos relax against him as the minutes pass uninterrupted. His own eyes feel a little heavy; it would be so easy to fall asleep like this. Sleeping on the couch at his dad’s for months had been devastatingly lonely. At the time he’d tried to pretend it wasn’t; that he was glad there was no room for Carlos when he laid his head down at night. 

But in the months since, he’s recognized how horribly isolating it was. He’d taken a lot of extra shifts because it was easier to sleep in beds that Carlos had never touched. 

These memories stir a thought. “You haven’t been alone at the loft since I came home from the hospital,” T.K. says softly.

He feels Carlos stiffen a little behind him. “Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

“It must have been hard before, all those nights when I wasn’t there,” T.K. says, focusing on every tiny movement and breath happening behind him. In all their many conversations the last few weeks, they’ve mostly talked about what broke them up in the first place and how to keep it from happening again. Carlos has avoided saying much about the actual time they spent apart. T.K. is pushing at a tender spot, one that Carlos has been loathe to talk about in lieu of “moving on” instead. But his boyfriend is here seeking comfort for a reason and T.K. can’t let him go home without uncovering what it is. 

When Carlos doesn’t speak T.K. pushes a little harder. “I had my dad and Mateo, but you were there all by yourself.”

“We don’t have to talk about this.”

There’s tension in Carlos’ voice and T.K. awkwardly rolls over until they’re facing each other, refusing to back down. “Did you talk to anyone? All those months apart? Have you told anyone how that felt?”

The lines of Carlos’ brow are tight, like he’s struggling to keep his feelings tucked down deep inside of him. “It’s in the past T.K.”

“If it’s in the past, then why are you here?” he asks, keeping his voice gentle.

Carlos swallows, his eyes closing like he’s in pain. There’s a long moment of quiet and T.K. wonders if he’s going to have to let it drop for tonight. But then, “You were gone. There was no one to tell,” Carlos finally says.

That’s what he’d been afraid of. Carlos hadn’t told his family, T.K. already knew that. And he’s far too polite a person to air his grievances to any of their friends, especially since most of them are also T.K.’s colleagues. T.K. is his person. The one he feels safe with. When T.K. walked out of that loft he hadn’t just left Carlos, he’d taken his entire support system with him.

“I’m here. Tell me now,” he says. “Please?”

Carlos’ eyes drop to the third or fourth button down on T.K.’s uniform shirt, the words too difficult to say to his face. “Those nights were awful,” he tells the button. “I would lie in bed, hating myself for pushing you away, furious at you for leaving me. I was—god—I was so lonely, T.K. I wanted you back so damn much it hurt.

He finally lifts his eyes a little and they look haunted, like mentally he’s reliving those awful, dark hours. “I know this isn’t the same. I know you’re just here at work, but sitting there in the quiet tonight, all by myself…”

“It felt like I’d left you all over again,” T.K. finishes for him.

“Yeah, kind of.” His mouth twists and he shifts uncomfortably. “I know this isn’t the same thing. I kept telling myself I’d see you in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t stop thinking and I just…I wanted to see you.”

“You can always come see me. If you need that reassurance, I will give it to you.”

T.K. takes Carlos’ hand and kisses it before pressing it over his heart, pounding forcefully with grief over mistakes and lost time beneath his ribs. His other hand he secures on Carlos’ hip, his thumb moving back and forth soothingly. “I am here,” he says firmly. “I am coming home to you. Every day. And every night. From now on. You’re not alone in that loft anymore, Carlos. I might not be there all the time, but I will always want to be. It’s our home. I don’t want it to feel like anything else ever again.”

Carlos gives him a lopsided smile. “Me neither.

“Come here.”

He pulls Carlos into his arms, holding him tightly. The tones go off and Carlos tries to let him go but T.K. tucks him in tighter. “It’s just fire, not us,” he says, feeling slightly guilty that he’s glad his teammates are running back to work because it means no one is going to bother them for awhile. 

They stay curled up together for so long, that T.K. wonders if Carlos is going to go back to sleep. But finally he pulls back, his body relaxed and loose. “Better?” T.K. asks.

Carlos nods. “Yes. Thank you.” His gaze turns more serious, assessing. “How are you? Are you feeling all right? How’s the shift been?”

T.K. chuckles. “I’m not the one who fell asleep in my boyfriend’s work bunk. Yes, I’m fine. The shift has been amazing. I missed this so much.”

“You haven’t gotten lightheaded or dizzy? You’re not too tired?”

“No. Not even a little.”

“Good,” Carlos says, relief smoothing out the last of the lines that crease his brow. “I know I’m being selfish, wanting to keep you home with me, but I really am glad you’re back. That all of you are back. It was nice to walk in and see the whole crew together again.”

“Yeah,” T.K. agrees, a warm bloom in his chest.

“I should get going,” Carlos says. “You need to get at least a little sleep tonight.”

“Come on. Since my dad is gone we can raid the secret candy stash before you go. I’ll even let you have some of my Sour Patch Kids.”

Carlos wrinkles his nose as T.K. pulls him to his feet. “I don’t know how you can stand those things.”

“They’re delicious! First they’re sour, then they’re sweet!”

“It’s almost midnight. Didn’t you have cake earlier too? Please tell me you ate a vegetable at dinner.”

[to-thelakes]

nothing but a pass time (lip gallagher x reader)

content warning(s); underage smoking, mentions of underage drinking, sad!lip, comfort, hints of angst (unrequited love)

summary; the summer had come around but you and lip were always the same. except it was harder to ignore your brewing feelings now.

series masterlist

i have edited and read this part over so many times that i feel like i'm not actually making it better anymore, so here it is! more of my babies, the next few parts are gonna get a little angst-heavy from both lip and reader's side but then i think it's gonna settle a bit and hopefully get a little better, i have the next three parts all partly/fully written and they're sad but also sweet (comfort is real and lip NEEDS iT, this poor man), so anyway, here's the new part hehe

“My dad would kill you if he found us,” You said as you rounded the corner with Lip. He had texted you, asking you to come and meet him. You didn’t mind. You’d been dying to see him after a too-long shift at the store. You had been there all day, sweating and dealing with shitty customers, and that one text was enough for you to be filled with a familiar sense of glee. 

You didn’t need a reason to see Lip, you never had but something about him asking to see you made you giddy. That text was enough to have you halfway out the door in minutes, changed, showered and beaming.

Though, that had always been the case.

The cigarette between your lips was new though. You had never been one for smoking but Lip had somehow gotten you into it. You only smoked with him though.

“They still think we’re dating?” Lip asked as you stopped by one of the pillars that held the El tracks up. The train only came every twenty minutes or so this late at night. So it was peaceful, quiet and you could smoke without being disturbed.

You were the one to plop yourself down first, feet aching from being on them all day. Working nearly a 10 hour shift was not for the weak and you were wondering why you’d bothered to do it to yourself.

“I dunno,” You shrugged as you took a drag of the cigarette Lip had handed to you. He sat down beside you, head resting back against the concrete. You let the smoke fill your lungs before you breathed it out into the night air. It was cooler than it had been all day, you didn’t feel like the air was suffocating you, just the cigarette, “Hard to tell with them at the moment,” You shrugged, the hint of something more beneath those words but neither of you dug into it. Lip simply nodded and you offered the cigarette back. He took it from between your two fingers and took a long drag.

He looked sad. You assumed that’s why he had even bothered you this late. He knew you’d been working all day and he had always used it as an excuse to keep to himself. But tonight, he seemed to want to see you. You were never going to deny him.

You hadn’t ever denied him anything.

You watched as he blew the smoke out through his nose and you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He briefly tensed up before relaxing. 

He had gotten so jumpy recently. 

You tried to ignore it.

“What’s up?” You asked after a moment of silence. He offered the cigarette to you but you waved him off. You could feel the nicotine buzzing through your system, not used to the high after nearly a week of not seeing Lip.

“Karen’s got this guy,” Lip said after a moment of silent contemplation, “Jody. Some fuckin’ asshole twice her age,” He explained, waving his free hand out. He then put the cigarette between his lips, breathing in the smoke and speaking as he exhaled, “Hasn’t even fucked her. She says it’s some Sex Addicts Anonymous shit. I don’t get it,” Lip said as he choked slightly on the smoke. You should have known this is where the conversation would go so you simply reached your hand out for the cig.

Lip passed it over without question.

Part of him hated himself for corrupting you. You had never touched a drop of alcohol until he convinced you otherwise. And you had resisted smoking cigarettes until one night a few months back at a party with him. 

You had been pretty drunk at that party and he had casually offered his cigarette to you. He hadn’t thought much of it, expecting you to shake your head and tell him to ‘fuck off’ as you always did. Instead, you had taken it from his fingers, taken a drag and coughed on the smoke. 

But that didn’t stop you from taking another drag.

Now every time he watched the smoke curl out from between your lips, he felt bad. Like he had doomed you to some horrible fate.

“And she said that they’re together and just sit under the stars and talk and shit. I mean, who does that?” He asked. You tried to bite back the reply that that’s exactly what the two of you did but you kept your mouth shut, “We’re teenagers. We’re meant to be fucking each other and doing stupid shit. Not- not watching cartoons and fucking cooking together. It’s- it’s just bullshit,” Lip was frustrated. You could tell and you couldn’t blame him. Not really.

Part of you just felt sorry for him. You knew that he had fallen for Karen but she never really shared those feelings. At least, not that you could tell. She liked him and she liked to fuck him but you were never sure if it was more.

Another part of you was happy she was fucking with Lip’s head. Maybe it made you spiteful but you wanted him to understand how it felt to have someone always keep you at arm’s length.

You tried not to think about that though. 

You were his friend. 

You were there to help him, not celebrate his pain.

“Are you still fucking her?” You asked after a moment. You weren’t entirely sure how to make Lip feel better. You weren’t well-versed in this shit.

He nodded.

“Yeah but it’s this guy. He’s a fucking asshole,” Lip bit back, cigarette hanging from his lips. You rolled your eyes and took the cigarette from between his lips to take a puff yourself. You stayed quiet for a minute, not sure what to say.

“At least you still get to fuck her,” You responded, trying to see the bright side. You wanted to make him feel better, “Clearly if they aren’t even fucking, it doesn’t mean that much. So, give it a few months and she’ll be past him.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, trying to ignore the truth in what you were saying.

Lip had never fucked you and you had always been nothing but a pass-time for him. A friend to cry to and seek comfort from but nothing more. You knew that you didn’t mean that much to Lip. Not as much as Karen anyway.

“Yeah, maybe,” Lip said as he glanced down to watch you blow the smoke from between your lips. You tapped the edge of the cigarette on your thigh, ashes flying through the air just as an El train passed overhead.

It was deafening but the noise gave you some solace. You hadn’t noticed Lip looking at you and so you let yourself feel the heaviness. It was just for a moment and then you put your guard back up.

But for a moment, you let yourself frown. Let yourself feel sad. Feel lonely. Feel fucking stupid.

Then you were back to normal.

Once the train had passed, you spoke again.

“The way I see it, he’s either gonna break up with her or they’re gonna fuck. Either way, she’ll come back to you,” You decided after a moment. You weren’t sure if it was true. You had no experience with relationships. You’d only ever kissed people drunk at parties so you were talking out your ass.

But Lip just hummed along and took the cigarette from between your fingers. He took another drag and then smushed the butt of it against the grass, putting it out.

“Everything okay with you?” Lip asked after a beat of silence. Your head lifted from his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked if you were okay. Usually, you told him anyway but he never asked.

“Yeah, why?” You responded, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He shrugged, meeting your gaze. Your eyes were boring into him and he felt guilty seeing the confusion. The way your eyebrows furrowed at his question as if you weren’t his best friend. As if he didn’t care about you.

“Y’just seem tired, that’s all,” He responded, shrugging. He was trying not to be defensive but it was hard not to be.

“Had a long day, it’s fine,” You retorted as you reached into the top pocket of his shirt. You didn’t ask before you grabbed the pack of cigarettes. Instead, you just plucked a stick out and grabbed his lighter. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Bumming a smoke,” You stated before you placed the cigarette between your lips. You used your hand to shelter the end of the cig before flicking the lighter on. The bright flame illuminated your face, eyes shining in the light. It was there for a split second before you had successfully lit the cigarette.

“You been smokin’ with someone else?” He asked. You scoffed, dropping the cigarette pack and lighter back into his pocket before you took a drag.

“Fuck off, as if,” You dead-panned as you exhaled. You then took another drag, leaving the cigarette hanging off your lips as you blew the smoke out of your nose. It was Lip’s turn to take the cigarette from your lips now. He made eye contact with you as he took it, placing it between his own.

Fuck. You hated when he did shit like that.

The way he looked at you like he really gave a shit.

You tried not to think about it.

“Good,” He said before he took his own drag. You two sat in silence like that for a while, sharing the cigarette. You knew it was bad for you. You had told yourself you’d never be a smoker but the summer was long and being around Lip was painful. The nicotine made it easier to deal with.

So you just smoked until Lip - once again - put it out in the dirt. He then just stared, another El train passing overhead. You were both quiet for a moment before you sighed. You needed to go home.

“Got work tomorrow,” You muttered after a beat. It was you saying you needed to leave without really saying it at all. But you did, you needed to get out of here.

“Stay at mine tonight?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Gotta leave early, starting at 6. Would just wake you up. You’re grumpy that early,” You stated as you looked up at him. He frowned. You didn’t know what else to say to him and so you just looked at each other for a moment.

“Want you to stay over,” He mumbled, looking away. You ran your hands across your face, wondering if you were really gonna let this happen. But you already knew the answer the second he had asked the question.

“Let me grab my shit,” You gave in. Lip couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. It felt like a victory, a small victory. 

[tripleyeeet]

AND HER MIND WAS ON ME

SUMMARY: Yuki decides to let Choso come and play with her girlfriend. PAIRING: Choso Kamo/Yuki Tsukumo/Female Reader WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, voyeurism, penetrative sex, use of a strap, orgasm denial (if you squint), basically just Choso being a desperate mess wanting to fuck reader. A/N: Originally this was supposed to be for Kinktober but due to the insane schedule I just got from my work that's probably not happening anymore. So, I figured I'd post this so it doesn't go to waste. :') Title inspired by Voyeur by James Blake :) WC: 750

MASTERLIST

“You okay, Cho?”

The sound of your voice cuts through him like a knife. The soft coo of breathless lungs pulling him out of his own stupor as he pants. 

Laid before him are both you and Yuki. The image of bare chests and legs creating a heat throughout his body he can’t sweat out. The kind that already has him squirming on the edge of the bed; digits twitching to grip the sheets beneath him so tight he swears he hears the sound of them crack.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

He doesn’t know how he manages to speak, but he does. The sound of his own voice muffling in his mind as his gaze shifts from body to body, eventually trailing up to see thick silicone pushing through your folds. Both of you are lying on your sides, back to front while Yuki’s arm —toned and heavy-handed—wraps around your neck as she nips at your ear and laughs. 

“You like when Choso watches, baby?” she asks, and truthfully, it takes everything Choso has not to slip in between and take his fill in that moment. The temptation nearly breaking him, especially when he watches your lips start to part slowly; the sensations you feel taking over your mind as you let out a hearty breath. 

It makes his chest ache, witnessing such a sudden pull of air mixed with the push of the strap entering your cunt —rendering you useless until you find it in yourself to nod. The vulgar sight causing Choso’s hands to start to fiddle with the fabric. Each of his fingers rubbing the texture of silk between each pad, pretending they’re you. Imagining that instead of Yuki gently fucking you with that god-awful piece of plastic it’s him instead; fingers and all providing you with the pleasure you need. The feel of your back pressed roughly against his chest filling him with an intense need for more. 

At which point, he hears you whimper from the impact. Each shift of the strap making you squirm beneath the blonde’s touch. Visions of arms and legs struggling to get away from the brutalizing pace she quickly sets appearing in Choso’s view. 

With a huff, it forces him to throw all caution to the wind and move one hand to cup his cock, gently rubbing it through his clothes. Allowing the tension you’ve built to ever so slightly subside when he feels that initial pressure release. The presence of something to grind against as he tries to remember to breathe.

Unfortunately, though, it’s not enough. Not when he can see Yuki violently snapping her hips while saying his name; reminding you to put on a good show for him. No, at that point he has to go a bit further and slip beneath his waistband to properly touch himself. The feel of his already hard cock twitching before he even has the chance to wrap himself around the base.

Which is an act that proves almost futile when he hears Yuki laugh, prompting his eyes to flicker up and see the arm that’s wrapped around her neck move to grip your jaw. The sheer force of her fingers jutting it over to catch his eye, making you whimper. 

“Look,” she says then, smirking as she watches your gazes line up. Both of you staring each other down as she fucks you while he fucks himself. Your respective pleasures building when he catches the rhythm of your breath and starts to match it. “Already so desperate for you. Can’t even wait until I’m finished.”

Swallowing hard, he feels his chest begin to gradually empty. Each pass of air within his lungs failing to return when he rubs his thumb over his head, already feeling the warm stick of pre-come collecting on the very flesh he wants to put inside you. 

“Cho?”

This time, Yuki addresses him. Unlike before though, he doesn’t look at her. Instead, he just stares at your face, memorizing each moment of tension that builds as he hums in response, hoping that’s enough. 

“Cho, sweetheart, I need you to wait, okay? You’ll get your turn, I promise.”

All he does is nod, keeping hold of himself but doing nothing else, knowing he can’t. Not when the promise of you all spread apart for him to fuck is waiting in the wings. Or when he can see that faint flicker of desire in your eye when you ultimately come, knowing you’re in for another round.

[purifiedclitoris69]

Darkness and Chaos

A/n: I have no idea how long this been sitting in my drafts, but I finally finished it. Bit unedited, hope you all enjoy! Thanks :)

Wanda Maximoff x enhanced!reader

You had always been attuned to the dark—something about shadows called to you from a young age. You first noticed it in fleeting moments, like when the shadows around you seemed to shift with your emotions, with your father's yelling and your mother's crying and both their drinking. It was subtle at first, easily dismissed, until one day, the shadows responded to your will, protecting you from the poison your parents spat. A flick of your hand could send the darkness swirling, you could create solid constructs like weapons and shields, bind enemies with shadow tendrils, teleport through shadows, and even craft illusions to confuse foes, you were an unpredictable force.

It wasn’t long before your abilities attracted the attention of powerful beings—both good and bad. The team had first encountered you during a mission to stop some HYDRA experimentation. you yourself sat in a cell experimenting with dark energy. You had been held captive by HYDRA, forced to use your powers of shadow manipulation for the organization’s twisted ends. However, the moment the Avengers arrived, everything changed. Their mission that quickly spiraled out of control but you helped them without hesitation, shadows erupted from you like a storm, weaving through the battlefield with lethal precision, and taking out the HYDRA agents like you’ve been dreaming of for ages. Your tendrils of darkness restrained enemies, while walls of shadow protected the Avengers from incoming fire. Wanda, immediately sensing your potential, your desperation to be good, reaching out with her magic, she offered you a way out—not just from HYDRA, but from the darkness inside you.

The Avengers wasted no time putting your skills to use. Your shadow manipulation was unlike anything they had seen, with Wanda’s chaos magic, capable of rewriting reality itself, the two of you became the Avengers' secret weapon against threats too powerful for conventional means. Your darkness and her chaos were like a pair of loss lovers beginning to dance. You communicated without words, your powers flowing together. It wasn’t just your powers that made you a powerful duo—it was your connection. You had trained together for months, learning to anticipate each other’s moves, covering for one another’s weaknesses. Where your shadows needed precision and control, Wanda’s chaos magic thrived in unpredictability, giving you both a perfect balance of order and chaos.

In the heat of battle, your synergy was unmatched. Wanda would send waves of crimson magic crashing into your enemies, altering the battlefield in ways no one could predict, while your shadows weaved in and out, creating traps, shields, and devastating strikes from every angle.

Naturally you guys were an inseperable pair outside of the battlefield as well. You were best friendsand everyone on the team knew it. You spend almost every free moment together, whether it's lounging in the common area, cooking meals in the shared kitchen, or training in the gym. But for you, every moment with her is tinged with something more, something you can never quite bring yourself to admit. It’s the little things that get to you—the way she smiles when she catches you stealing the last piece of pizza, or how she lightly nudges you with her shoulder when you’re both watching a movie on the couch, curled up under a blanket. Her laugh, soft and genuine, makes your chest tighten, and sometimes, when she’s not looking, you find yourself staring at her just a little too long, trying to memorize every detail of her face.

You were falling in love with her, hopelessly and utterly in love—but you can’t say it. Not yet, not when it could ruin everything.

Your days are a mix of training, missions, and downtime. During training, the connection you share on the battlefield spills over. You’re so in sync, knowing each other's movements before they even happen. When you spar, it’s like a dance of power all over again, a delicate balance of strength and grace. Sometimes, when you’re caught up in the flow, you’ll catch her eye, and there’s this spark—something just beneath the surface that makes you wonder if she feels it too. But then it passes, and you’re back to being best friends, pretending that the tension isn’t there.

After training, you’ll both collapse onto the floor, breathless and laughing. "I’m getting better," Wanda says, teasing you with a grin.

"You’re still too predictable," you tease back, though you don’t mean it. She’s anything but predictable. Wanda is like a force of nature—fierce and compassionate, more complex than anyone you’ve ever known. It’s what drew you to her in the first place. But you’ve gotten good at hiding your feelings, laughing off the moments that hit a little too close to the truth.

in the evenings, you’ll make dinner together in the compound’s kitchen. Wanda loves experimenting with Sokovian recipes, and you’ve found yourself loving the process too, if only because it means spending more time with her. There’s always a moment when your hands brush as you reach for the same ingredient, or when you stand side by side at the counter, your shoulders touching. You’ll glance at her, and she’ll smile, oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing inside you. Sometimes she'd ask you to just sit at the counter for the company and the insurance so that you wouldn't mess up her 'delicate process,' you'd act annoyed but, it always allowed you to study her more, how she scrunches her nose, the sparkle in her eyes, the way her hair framed her face, anything.

"You're staring again," she says one night, catching you off guard as you chop vegetables.

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat. "Am I?" you say, trying to sound casual, but your voice comes out just a little too tight.

She laughs softly, nudging you playfully with her elbow. "You’re a terrible liar."

You laugh it off, brushing it aside like you always do, but every time you’re near her, the feelings only grow stronger. It’s in the way she looks at you with those piercing eyes, the way she leans into you when she’s tired, like you’re her safe place.

Sometimes, late at night, when the compound is quiet and it’s just the two of you sitting on the couch, you wonder what it would be like to tell her the truth. But then fear creeps in—the fear of losing her, of changing everything. So, you stay quiet. When she gets up to leave, she often lingers, just for a moment, as if she’s waiting for you to say something more. You wonder if she feels the tension too, if maybe she’s waiting for you to make the first move. But then she’ll smile, say goodnight, and disappear down the hallway, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the feeling of her absence like a weight on your chest.

Every now and then, you catch her looking at you differently, her gaze lingering a second too long, her touch softer than it needs to be. You wonder if she’s trying to say something without saying it. But you’re too scared to ask, too scared to risk what you have, so you both continue the dance—best friends on the surface, with so much more bubbling underneath.

The rest of the Avengers don't seem to notice the tension. To them, you and Wanda are just inseparable. They joke about it sometimes—and apart of you feel like Natasha knows, Nat teasingly calling you "Wanda’s shadow" because you're always together. And maybe they're right. You follow her wherever she goes, drawn to her like she’s the only source of light in your world. But none of them know how deep your feelings were, how every laugh, every casual touch, every shared glance twists something inside you.

The hardest moments are when Wanda talks about her past—about Vision, the loss, the pain. She opens up to you in ways she doesn’t with anyone else. You’re the one she trusts, the one she comes to when the weight of it all is too much. And you listen, offering comfort the best way you can, but it kills you inside. Because no matter how close you are, a part of her heart still belongs to someone else. And no matter how much you love her, you’re not sure there’s room for you there.

The mission today is different, saving the universe different.

The sky is ablaze with kree ships, and the ground trembles as waves of invaders pour into the city. You and Wanda arrive together, side by side as always, with the rest of the Avengers already in the heat of battle. Steve's voice crackles through your earpiece: “We need backup—now.”

Your heart races, not just from the battle ahead, but from the proximity to Wanda. The mission is urgent, and your mind is focused, but there’s a constant hum in the background—your feelings for her.

You glance over at her, catching a glimpse of her eyes glowing red as she prepares her magic. She looks determined, fierce, and more beautiful than ever. You shake off the thought, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“They’re teleporting in from somewhere,” you say, scanning the battlefield. “If we shut down the portal, we can stop this.”

Wanda nods, and you can see the same determination mirrored in her expression. “I’ll handle the portal. Cover me,” she says, her voice calm but filled with urgency.

Together, you create a dome of darkness, your shadows rising from the ground and swallowing the battlefield in an inky void. The alien invaders stumble, confused, while Wanda floats upward, her crimson magic intertwining with your shadows. You stay close to her, shadows wrapping around your hands like armor as you dispatch enemies who dare to approach. Your abilities blend effortlessly, like they were made to work in unison. And in a way, maybe they were.

As Wanda’s magic tears through the dimensions, severing the invaders’ connection to their homeworld, you can’t help but steal another glance at her. She’s lost in concentration, her hands moving with precise, graceful motions, and it’s in these moments you’re reminded why you’ve fallen for her. It’s not just her power, not just the way you work together in perfect sync—it’s her heart, her kindness, her courage. You’ve seen her at her most vulnerable, and yet she’s never faltered.

With a final surge of magic, Wanda closes the portal, and the skies clear. The remaining invaders are no match for the rest of the Avengers. As you land beside her, the battle over, the battlefield is eerily quiet.

Wanda looks at you, her red magic flickering around her hands before it fades. She’s smiling softly, the exhaustion of the battle evident, but there’s something else in her eyes—something warm, something that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You did great,” she says, stepping closer. “We always do.”

You chuckle, trying to keep it light. “Only because I’ve got you watching my back.”

Her smile widens, and for a brief moment, the world around you seems to blur. It’s just the two of you now, standing in the aftermath of a battle you won together, like always. But there’s something unspoken between you. You can feel it. It hangs in the air like the only shadow you can’t quite grasp.

Admist the two of your distractions, one of the Kree is able to use the last of it's strengh shooting you twice in the back, one going straight through your abdomen. Wanda's face pales as Natasha quickly finishes of the Kree and you fall into Wanda's arms. You can barely focus, but her presence feels like a lifeline. She cradles your face in her hands, her expression frantic, eyes wide with fear.

“Stay with me,” she pleads, her voice trembling. “You’re going to be okay.”

You can feel the warmth of her hands against your skin, and in that moment, the weight of your unspoken feelings spills over. “Wanda,” you say, your voice barely a whisper, “I need to tell you—”

“Not now, y/n” she interrupts, her voice rising as she tries to keep the panic at bay. “We need to get you out of here first!”

But you can see the truth in her eyes, the fear that lurks beneath her fierce exterior. “I can’t—Wanda, I can’t hold back anymore. I love you. More than you know," you force a pained smile as the tears and burning pain blurr your vision, "I'm in love with you."

For a moment, time seems to freeze. You can see the flicker of hope in her eyes, but it’s quickly replaced by something else—fear, and with that your vision goes black.

"Hurry help! Please!," Wanda screams as the rest of the team rushes over.

"We need to get her on the jet now," Natasha says as Steve pick you up with ease, running you straight to the medical table.

You drift in and out of consciousness, the world around you a haze of sounds and sensations. The dull beeping of machines pulls you back, and when you finally force your eyes open, the sterile light of the medbay greets you. Blinking against the brightness, you focus on the figure by your side—Wanda, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the monitors.

“Y/n?” she whispers standing up, her voice trembling with relief. You try to speak, but your throat feels dry and raw, she quickly hands you a glass of water. She’s leaning closer, her hand holding yours, warm and grounding. “You’re awake. Thank goodness.”

The memories rush back—flashes of battle, the sting of pain, and the way she cradled your face in her hands as the world around you faded, as you finally confessed your love. Panic surges through you. “Wanda, what happened?” you rasp, struggling to sit up, but she gently pushes you back down.

“You were hurt. A Kree shot you.” Her voice is steady, but her eyes betray the storm beneath. “Natasha took care of it. You’re safe now.”

“safe, yeah…” you echo, relief flooding through you. “What about you? Are you okay?”

She nods, but there’s a distance in her gaze, a shadow that lingers just behind her eyes. You want to reach out, to pull her closer and make her feel your warmth, but there’s something heavy in the air—a wall between you.

“Wanda, I—” you start, the urgency of your feelings pressing at the edges of your mind. But before you can finish, she interrupts.

“Y/n, listen. There’s something we need to talk about.” Her tone shifts, the seriousness making your heart drop. You search her face, looking for any sign of what she’s about to say, but all you see is a mix of determination and fear.

"Wanda, what I said, it's true," you gulped down your anxiety, "I justt—"

“I don’t feel the same way,” she says, her voice firm yet shaking slightly. The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. “I’m sorry. I care about you, but not like that. We need to focus on being a team...we work better as we are."

Her words pierce through you, each syllable a shard of ice. You feel the warmth of her hands slipping away, and the connection you thought you shared shatters, leaving you raw and exposed. “But I—”

“No, y/n” she cuts you off, her voice rising with a mix of desperation and anguish, "I can't give you what you want. Not in that way, not after everything."

Inside, Wanda is fighting a battle of her own, her heart pounding in her chest. She wants to reach out, to tell you that she feels the same, that she’s been harboring feelings for you since the moment you became friends. But the thought of losing you—the thought of watching you slip away like Vision, like everyone else she’s ever loved—sends a cold wave of terror through her. She remembers the pain of loss, the way it consumed her, the ache that still lingers deep within her soul.

“Wanda, please…” you say, your voice breaking, and her heart aches at the sound. She can see the confusion and hurt in your eyes, and it shatters her inside.

You deserve so much more than a broken person like me, she thinks, forcing a smile that feels like a lie. You deserve someone who can be there for you completely, without fear. But I can’t be that person. I can’t be the reason you’re hurt.

“I just need you to understand,” she says, her voice steadier than she feels. “We can’t cross that line. It’s safer this way.” But as the words leave her lips, she knows they’re a lie. The truth is that she loves you—deeply, but she can’t let herself act on that love. Not now. Not when the fear of loss looms like a shadow, ready to swallow her whole. “I care about you, and I’ll always be here for you,” she adds, trying to keep her voice calm, even as her heart races. “Just… let’s keep it this way.”

You look at her, the hurt in your eyes a mirror of the pain in her heart. She watches as you swallow down the heartbreak and practically return back to the shell of the person they found at HYDRA. As she watches the acceptance settles in your gaze, a part of her breaks, knowing that she’s ultimately built your walls back up, she's pushed you away when all she wanted was to pull you closer.

What have I done? she thinks, her chest tightening as she sees the distance growing between you.

You nod slowly, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat, your heart heavy with the weight of her rejection. And as you lie back against the pillows, the silence fills the space where the truth should be, echoing with everything left unsaid, "I think I'd like some space for a little," you mumble turning away from her as you try so desperately to keep the tears from spilling.

"Okay," she agrees quietly walking towards the door, she pauses looking back as she's about to leave, "I'm sorry, y/n," she leaves.

[thewalrusespublicist]

Two of Us Play: Thoughts or 'This Could Mean Nothing: The Play'

I saw Two of Us and I have thoughts. and feelings. Frustrated feelings.

What I liked: the mental health angle, the details, the research, the bones of the story and the acting for the most part (good actors, poor direction basically).

What I didn't like: First off the script needs work. At the minute it plays more as a spot the reference rather than one coherent story. This doesen't feel like convo between friends but a recap of Beatles lore with no train of thought that gets satisfyingly resolved and whilst hitting off the movie beats rather than building to them. The pay off feels less like a cathartic journey and more 'cool it's Mclennon I guess..'. Next the chemistry is off, the two leads don't feel like platonic soulmates/best frenemies and they don't fly off of each other as John and Paul did. Instead the energy is super low, even in their heightened fight scenes it doesn't feel like two people duking it out. There's no screaming and shouting, it's like two old but never that close friends going from awkward to semi awkward and back again repeatedly without ever hitting any moments of sizzling connection. This I think is partially to do with the 'nice Paul' characterization, which please lord can it end! Let our beloved alpha bitch be beloved and alpha bitchy, it's good for his skin AND MORE REAL.

I think the chemistry/energy problem is linked though to the main problem and the elephant in the room: the 'latent' homosexuality. Latent is probably the best word for it, but that's only because of the play's fear of its own implications. To be clear, with a slightly more daring director unafraid of the material, the latent would be BLATANT. The dialogue is BLATANT. John's wordplay is loaded with suggestion: 'best fuck you've ever had', 'you should have married me' and there's a closeness when they are singing on the piano which was 👀👀. The 'I love Paul' badge is also there with a 'lucky Paul' comment that COULD have built to a potentially interesting character moment. But they just fly over these bits like they haven't been said. The candlelight dinner as well that John puts on for Paul is by its nature loaded, as is John offhandedly calling him 'my love' when fiddling with the stereo during that scene.It's so casual that it feels like an accidental slip on John's part. But nothing is made of this, no pause, shift in the air, comments, nothing. This was the worst with the KISS which was initiated by John and yes, way way way too long for it to mean nothing and the Epstein jokes are completely omitted. Its a wild moment, but the play can't seem to handle what they've just laid down so just ... skates past it. Its like HAHA WEIRD RIGHT THEY JUST KISSED ANYWAY ROOF SCENE.

But the implications also aren't consistent as the whole thing is too attached to the 'Paul is a jilted victim' angle. It's Paul who is jealous of Yoko, but save a line about being surprised about Linda, John seems neutral (weird considering its JOHN making the overtures and was IRL not Linda's biggest fan). The ending is the strangest for this. They have the SNL thing like in the movie but it's weirder as Paul is CRYING. OBVIOUSLY CRYING. CAN HEAR AUDIBLY FROM A DISTANCE CRYING. The whiplash of John throwing down these implications and suggestions to just ... nonchalantly giving a hand grip goodbye and ignoring Paul's tears after going on this whole journey together is WEIRD and makes him look like a user and a selfish, insensitive prick. Like bestie your bestie is crying you can call Yoko back??? Also the end is meant to be a love you to both each other and their wives but Paul's is clearly to mostly John and John's feels mostly to Yoko. It's not a good look on John and its not a good look on his relationship with Yoko (yh John could free himself from the prison he's made for himself and was about to but the darn Yoko pull is just too strong guys). Again this would be sort of sad but fine if it was Paul making the overtures or there were no overtures but it isn't and there are! John is both the mooning would be romancer and the unavailable ex. Once again nuance and coherency (as well as Paul and Linda!) are sacrificed for the traditional John and Yoko angle. Wholeheartedly, it feels like there has been a layer of implication added onto the script, a layer which means that the original elements of the script would need to change to work but they haven't done it so you have this Frankenstein's monster of a traditionalist narrative fused with loaded suggestion.

So yeah, I think the whole thing had a lot of potential as a play but the script needs an overhaul, the actors need better chemistry and if you are going to go there, for gods sake GO THERE.

[aoikitsunee]

A Heartfelt Surprise

Summary: "It's my birthday?! Oops, totally slipped my mind... Thanks for remembering!" - Haru's birthday voiceline.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a warm glow that danced on the walls. You stretched, taking a moment to relish the quiet stillness before the day’s chaos began. You glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall, and your heart skipped a beat. Today is Haru’s birthday.

Haru, with his signature orange vest and that delightful, easy smile, had always been a beacon of kindness in your life. From the moment you met, his eccentricity and passion for taking care of the myriad of anomalous creatures in the dorm drew you in. He could handle anything thrown his way, from rambunctious cats to mischievous gremlins. And then there was Peekaboo, the creature Haru adored as if he were his own child. The little creature had a knack for getting into trouble, but somehow, Haru managed to juggle it all, always with that infectious enthusiasm.

Determined to make the day special for him, you quietly gathered a few supplies while the dorm still slept. You rummaged through your stash of art supplies, readying materials to make a handmade card. As you crafted, thoughts of Haru filled your mind—his warm laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and how he always seemed to know when you needed support. You wanted to give back, even if it was just a small token of appreciation.

Once the card was complete, you slipped it into your pocket and began planning a little birthday surprise. The Jabberwock dorm’s lounge would be the perfect setting. You arranged snacks, decorated the room with colorful streamers, and set up a small table for Peekaboo’s special treats. Just as you were about to place the final balloon, the door swung open, and Haru stepped in, his short dark brown and orange hair catching the light.

“Oh! You’re up early!” Haru exclaimed. He wore his usual attire, complete with that adorable black and orange necktie, and the ever-present sling bag slung over his shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Just… um, a little surprise for someone special,” you said, trying to maintain a casual tone while your heart raced.

His curiosity piqued, Haru tilted his head slightly, a playful smirk forming on his lips. “Special, huh? Are we talking about someone like… Peekaboo?” He gestured toward the little creature peering over the edge of his bag.

“Actually…” you began, but the words caught in your throat. The way he looked at you, with that friendly sparkle in his closed eyes, made it difficult to focus. “It’s for you. Your birthday, remember?”

For a moment, silence enveloped the room. Then, realization dawned on him. “It’s my birthday?! Oops, totally slipped my mind... Thanks for remembering!” His voice held a mixture of surprise and delight, his smile widening, a glimmer of warmth radiating from him.

You chuckled softly, motioning him to the lounge. “Come on, you have to see what I set up!”

As he entered the lounge, his expression shifted from surprise to pure joy. The decorations, the treats—everything was just for him. “Wow, you really went all out!” he said, a genuine admiration coloring his tone. He glanced around, taking in the effort you’d put into the surprise.

“I wanted to make your day special,” you replied, feeling warmth creep up your cheeks. “You do so much for everyone here, especially with the anomalies. I thought you deserved a celebration.”

Haru’s smile softened, and he approached you, his presence both comforting and electrifying. “You’re the best. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

In that moment, the air between you shifted. There was something deeper than friendship simmering beneath the surface, something that made your heart flutter and your palms sweat. As if sensing your inner turmoil, Haru stepped a little closer, his voice low and gentle. “You know, it’s people like you who keep me grounded. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over you like a warm blanket. “I feel the same way,” you admitted, a smile breaking through your initial nerves.

Haru’s expression brightened, and just as you thought he might say something more, Peekaboo bounded into the room, accidentally knocking over a stack of treats. “Ah, Peekaboo!” Haru laughed, the moment breaking as he rushed to scoop him up.

You watched Haru, your heart swelling with affection. There was something magical about how he balanced his responsibilities while still finding joy in the little things—like a birthday celebration, even if it had momentarily slipped his mind.

As the day unfolded with laughter, delicious food, and Peekaboo’s antics, you felt a sense of peace settle within you. Haru’s laughter echoed in the room, filling every corner with warmth.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, you found yourself dreaming of shared adventures, of laughter echoing through the dorm, and the undeniable bond that had formed between you and Haru. Today, you celebrated not just his birthday, but the magic of the connection you both shared—a connection that was bound to grow deeper with each passing moment.

Ao3 vers.

[owlsie-hoot]

ACGAS 05x01 "To All Our Boys"

After a horrible evening where my internet decided to stop working at exactly 10pm (CET, I am not in the UK), I finally had time to rewatch the entire episode in one go without interruptions.

My initial grumpiness has disappeared now. Thankfully.

It might not have been an episode 3.1 or 4.1 but it was a wonderful start to the fifth series that reminded us of many wonderful moments in the past by constantly giving us parallels to earlier episodes.

brucellosis

James's mixing up two cats

both were also black cats

Audrey's time in the WRENS

James's first bus ride into Darrowby

James's first solo case + the case that brought him back to Darrowby

which was then extended to Siegfried giving Carmody more responsibility

Salut D'Amour being played in the background of the uniform scene

Siegfried being speechless when seeing Audrey in an unexpected outfit

a dog finding shelter at Skeldale because the owner went to war

James and Siegfried talking about war and family like in 4.5 and Siegfried DID take care of Helen like he promised- together with Audrey

There might be even more moments. The structure of the episode was also interesting and yes, I always notice such things. It's not nitpicking, far from it, it's just how I watch things and might be related to the fact that I read too many books and studied literature at one point and therefore approach everything I watch and read with my literary analysis glasses on.

We start in Darrowby and are introduced to the local WI and ARP group, the Home Front war effort. It is contrasted with scenes from the RAF base and we switch back and forth between "getting ready to fight" and "the warm family home that is Skeldale". There is the family getting used to black out regulations versus planes getting ready for the first long distance flight. The family vibes are so strong in the first quarter of the episode with Siegfried being the perfect uncle/surrogate granddad and Audrey being more his wife than the housekeeper. It is clear that the vibe at Skeldale has shifted to something much more familial and relaxed.

Then we get the second quarter of the episode when James's illness is revealed, the war effort picks up and Carmody's suggested triage system is put to the test. We cover a few days and not just a few hours until the missing cat is found and the groundwork is laid for the denouement of the storylines.

A third quarter then features almost exclusively James with only two small scenes from Skeldale and Darrowby that sadly are a bit short and feel as if something is missing. That was my least favourite bit of the episode because until then everything had felt really balanced.

Finally we bookend the episode by James's return, the return to Darrowby and Skeldale. To the warmth of the house and the family. All the storylines are concluded and Audrey appears in her new uniform for the first time and leaves Siegfried completely stunned and overwhelmed. That, and the many baby moments Siegfried had as well as the constant bright smile on Audrey's face when she looked at him, was my favourite bit. The way she just went to Bosworth, told him she can totally do it because she has all the qualifications and then just slays it! It was her decision, no need to ask Siegfried. She knows that he will not say no to it anyway. He is in fact proud and absolutely mesmerised by her and her bright smile and flustered question if she looks daft show us how far they have come. Audrey lives her own life. She might be in Siegfried's employ but that is by now only a formality if we're honest. The scene Siegfried then shares with James also suggests that he stays up until Audrey has returned. Everyone else has gone to bed after all. It is 11:10pm. With the two dogs cuddled up in front of the fireplace representing Audrey and Siegfried we leave him there in his armchair, waiting for his friend and companion (and housekeeper last) to return safely from her first shift.

[famewolf]

for so long all I wanted to do was die but now that I'm older, all I worry about is dying too soon. too soon to experience all the things I didn't give myself time for when I was young. I don't want to spend these years overthinking what time I have left

[butchlifeguard]

something i was thinking about on stand yesterday.. danganronpa shsl lifeguard who tries to save a dying person they find, bonus points if they dont come clean about it at first because they think they actually killed that person with their efforts

[orcelito]

Honestly why am I fucking Like This

[jemmo]

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