#on a normal schedule instead of giving them nothing to go on until the last minute.

[marklikely]

whatever maybe im being too hard on him specifically maybe the other execs in that article are right that he's just an easy target because he's the one passing on changes from all of them. but even so what kind of insane defense is that. "no this one guy isnt bad at his job! the employees are just mad at him because hes the point of contact for the rest of us, who are all bad at *our* jobs!"

[ms-demeanor]

I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?

Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.

Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."

Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.

BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.

Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.

ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.

Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:

1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."

2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.

3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.

4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.

5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.

6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.

7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).

[rxzennia]

domestic headcanons

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 ambiguous relationship (oh my god they were roommates); living together; word vomit; incoherent scenarios; ooc aven probably. i offered my exp mats to gepard instead and now i have to grind traces all over again, maybe i should build clara while i’m at it (losing this particular 50/50 has driven me insane istg)

after aventurine’s endless pestering, you finally agree to move in with him. he’s got a whole block all to himself, so what’s you temporarily claiming a room going to change?

the moment you agree, and by that i mean the very second you agree, he’s going to arrange for people to move your stuff

you just need to move yourself over

he’s not going to let you do any hard labor, that’s what the grunts are for

it’s so quick? like, it only took the morning to have everything packed, moved, and unpacked

when you get to your desk the first thing you do is clutter it up

but there’s so much space? 

you just can’t stack your stuff enough so that it’s snug the way you like 

you try, but all you’ve managed to do is make a paper fortress on one side of your desk

why do the senior managers have so much space?

but you soon realize you didn’t really need to finish building your wall of documents

because your boss sits on your desk whenever he fancies annoying you

so there’s your clutter for the other side

though you still leave a few of your spare scarves there just so it’s not completely empty

a little out of place, but you have nothing else bulky enough

it’s okay, that corner of your desk is often occupied by a certain someone anyway

surprisingly, living with aventurine isn’t unpleasant at all. maybe it’s because you’re almost always within reach now, he’s started bothering you less – instead, he’ll do his work in your office. he has a perfectly good office of his own (arguably comfier too), but he insists on sitting next to you.

frankly, you are tempted to kick him out, but this is his place. you shouldn’t try to kick out your host landlord. and it’s not like he’s actively preventing you from concentrating. you usually leave him be, but you might’ve accidentally gotten used to it – when he’s not around, you feel like something’s missing. just a little bit, though.

he can and will always poke his head over to see what you’re working on

“arranging your meetings, go away.” you push his face back towards his laptop

“hey, leave 6pm to 8pm free!” he whines, as always, he’s trying to get a dinner date(?) with you

“no can do, you’re having dinner with mr diamond.”

he will throw a hissy fit

“why must it always be meal times? i want to eat with you!”

will complain and complain and complain even if you ignore him

you give him a flat “i will be present as well.” 

you’re so bloody infuriating

he stares at you for a whole minute. and then he closes his laptop

you look at him. what is he trying to do now?

“not what i meant.” he gently whacks you over the head with the device, “you and i. dinner. alone. get it?”

normally you stand your ground and make him go through with these meetings

but sometimes you cave and indulge him

this is one of those times

“fine, i’ll push back your meeting with the media department tomorrow.”

you see literal flowers around him as he gets his way

well, not exactly his way, because if he had his way he would be free today

a compromise for tomorrow is good enough, he supposes

he will bring you out to lunch and dinner every day if he could

if only you’d stop telling him you technically don’t need to eat and just go along with it

and if only you’d stop scheduling every. single. important. meeting. during. meal. times.

still, he finds it amusing to read your face whenever you’re in those meetings with him

the only good thing about them, really

because you will have the tiniest furrow in your eyebrows when you eat something you don’t like

and it’ll last until the taste goes away (which is usually the entire meeting)

or you’ll have the most serene expression ever (though it’s more neutral than anything, really) when you find something you like

loves it when you try to not make it obvious that you like a particular dish because you’re not discreet at all

that is all you will eat for the rest of the meeting

you are given your own room, but more often than not you find yourself in aventurine’s room at night.

mostly because he drags you away from your desk – no, scrap that, it’s only because he drags you away from your desk. otherwise you would’ve kept working. or maybe gone and did some combat training. or anything but sleep, really.

you soon realize he likes cuddling you when he sleeps

this is something you’ll never deny him if he asks

in fact, he doesn’t even need to ask nowadays

you show up in his room everyday at around the same time

if he wants a nap in the middle of the day, you’ll also be there

you notice how much more quality rest he gets when you’re by his side

and how much less nightmares bothered him compared to before

(maybe you should try casual sleeping, too?)

whenever you try to slip out of his death grip to get some documents, or to use the bathroom, or for water, he will quietly ask you where you’re going

in a very, very slurred, sleepy way

you will try to explain, and all he’ll tell you as you wrench yourself out of his arms is a quiet “stay”

how are you supposed to go if he says that while letting you go?

good luck if you’re hoping to use the bathroom, most likely you’ll have to hold it in

otherwise, if you need anything else, your scarf-serpent can get it for you

although one time it returned with your documents in its mouth and drool all over it

then you had a rigorous session trying to teach them how to coil around things to pick them up

more like you had to learn, since they’re somewhat sentient extensions of you

on the off chance that you’ll be out for the night, you’ll leave your favorite scarf with him

it’s not as comforting as your person, but it does smell like you and feel like you

he’ll take it as a placeholder until you’re back :(

aventurine hates it when you’re out of office. whether it is to represent him, or to discuss matters with clients before you pass it onto him, he hates it when he’s alone at home.

odd, because he was so used to being on his own, and he was so certain he was going to be alone for the rest of his life.

this man will sit in your office regardless of your presence

your spare scarves keep him company

imagine his surprise when a bunch of faceless noodles slither onto him

he makes the connection very quickly

did not expect that every one of your scarves are mini leviathans

he thought there was only a few, and they move between scarves

a welcome surprise because he knows these huge little guys are friendly

those are the same guys that swallow monsters, so they’re actually not very friendly

but they’re friendly to him because they’re you

one of them will coil into a pile on his lap and rest its head on his thigh

and the others will be all around him

will slobber over him 100%

he will try to pet them, and will realize that they’re really affectionate with him

they will try to eat his hands

but, like, in a not alarming way

hold his hand in their maws but will not bite. only drool

when he pats the one who has his hand, it’ll let go

literally “that’s a weird looking dog” but there's more than ten of them

when you return from your errands, the first thing you see is aventurine dragging a bunch of your snakes along with him as he practically runs to greet you.

you wrap your arms around him as he jumps towards you, and you give him a few spins before setting him down again. 

then you lower your scarf

you’re comfortable enough with him to not cover yourself up anymore

oh how he loves seeing your face, aeons, you have no idea

“guys.” you snap your fingers, and the creatures collapse back into inanimate fabric

you catch all of them, of course, then you open one arm for your boss

the best part (real) 

he snuggles up against your side naturally

you lift him up easily even though both your hands are busy

he’s practically sitting on your forearm as you walk around the house

princess treatment

you’ll cuddle with him properly once you drop off your stuff

“ten minutes,” you tell him, “then i’ll have to get back to work.”

he will throw another hissy fit, like, “why are you busier than i am? i’m the boss!”

you pinch his nose and go: “exactly, mr aventurine” 

instantly droops like a kicked puppy

he doesn’t even try to hide it

absolutely hates it when you’re formal with him in private even if you’re joking

feels like you’re back to square one all over again

“don’t call me that,” aventurine groans as he grabs your hair and tug at it like a toddler.

you glance at him. “displeased?” 

“of course!” he tries to shake your head violently, but damn you and your stupid strength. “what happened to aven?”

you don’t respond 

you’re busy tossing everything onto your chair and praying nothing falls off

he moves on to slapping your face lightly

“hey, hey!” as his hands smack and grab everything that’s touchable on your head

surprisingly, you let him

he might also pull on your scarf

and after a while, he’ll resort to rubbing his cheek against yours

“are you ignoring me…?”

you sit down on the couch and set aventurine in your lap. “impatient, are we?”

“can’t help it,” he doesn’t hesitate to bury himself into your embrace. “i hate when i’m alone…”

“aven…” you pat his back, knowing full well you’re falling for his tricks again. “there, there. should i just call it a day?”

“you would?” he asks, like a child receiving a gift for the first time, “really?”

“really.” you sigh as he tugs you down into spooning him, and you watch him tangle his limbs with yours.

eventually, you pull him closer to you. jeez, there’s just no way you can win against him, is there?

[dreamwritersworld]

The chore. Part 4. (Sully family x reader)

This is part 4 and the final part but read till the VERY END when I announce a surprise! 😊💓

I was dreading waking up in the morning. Last night Tyseria had decided it’d be best we made a small fort to sleep in together before we have to constantly be out for training more than usual. I woke up with Aonung’s arms wrapped around me “Timeeeeee to wake up Y/n! Moms keeping us busy and close to her today so wake up!!” I rubbed my eyes, trying to get up suddenly focusing on the other voice beside me trying to pry Aonung to get off. “you should really let go brother you might cut off her circulation! We have to train the Sully’s” I look back confused. them? Train the sull- “Tyseria leave us be! I don’t want to train those idiots. Tuk please leave your sister and tell mom she’ll come back in a couple of hours.” Tuk and Tyseria both look up offended and give a ‘Are you serious?!’ look to both their siblings.

“Fineee, I guess our breathing training can wait till another dayyy…” I yank Aonung’s hand off “Ok you got me up let’s go you evil child.” Laughs erupts from the two sisters that bothered their siblings to wake up. Now it’s Aonung’s turn for an offended look. “I- your leaving?!” I turn back “yes! Tuk needs to train and she’s doing it AS SHE PROMISED!” I turn to Tuk expectedly “I guess so…”

That’s how it continued for the next few days wake up and stay close by father or mother. Not to say that we didn’t mind but we knew that we were all dying to return home and praying our schedules can go back to normal. As for the sully family…

There had been no mention of Y/n or Tuk from Tyseria and Aonung. They kept majority of their family life private besides when they stated the obvious. It wasn’t until Loak, Kiri and Neteyam were walking towards the Mauri that their laughing stopped once they heard their parents in the home going back in forth while Jake brushes off Neytiri suspicions on seeing the girls running around the village as her mind playing a cruel joke on her. “Neytiri it’s not real. They are gone.” Neytiri pushes Jake aside “You are stupid. I saw MY children. You must’ve not noticed them AGAIN.” When the two girls left the family after y/n gave them a reality check, Neytiri never let Jake forget it and she only ever drowned in her regrets at failing to notice how they pushed their own daughter away. “That is not fair. You know that’s not fair. We looked everywhere for them. I sent out troops for them.” Neytiri turns back to her husband…

*Flashback*

Jake’s eyes follow Neytiri as she frantically rushes home to find her daughters, after hearing Tuk ran for Y/n when she left after the argument. Jake sluggishly walking behind frustrated at the idea of facing his daughter again knowing that it wouldn’t be long until he had enough and would blow up on her once again for putting stress on HIS family. (as if y/n was the intruder bothering his family, not his daughter)His sluggish walking stopped and changed to a sprinting pace as he wears his wife’s screams. He ran into an empty room with nothing but beautiful flower bracelets, each laying on his other three kids hammocks. Some type of parting away gift with a familiar bead hanging on each end of the bracelets. Y/n’s signature bead. The one Tuk would always show off and say “her beading is so pretty isn’t it dad-“ suddenly he couldn’t hear the little girls sentence in his memory because he had immediately cut her off and said that y/n shouldn’t be beading, instead training to be better and not halfass on the war grounds. “WHERE ARE THEY. WHERE ARE MY KIDS. JAKE WHAT IS THIS?!” Neytiri screams with her heart aching of regret. “Find them. FIX THIS. Bring my children back home.” Looking at her husband with the upmost disgust. Neytiri then turns her back to her husband. For the first time.” *

…“Well then you didn’t look hard enough. My children are here. And I’m going to fight for answers with or without you.” Both parents rushed out the Mauri, Jake trying to stop Neytiri from doing anything out of line while their children frantically followed behind from a safe distance. ‘Could it be? Could their missing sisters really be here?’

Neytiri rushes around the village everywhere in search for the two leaders of the clan hoping to find her theory true. That her children are here and that they’d now return home. “Mom! Dad! Look at the seashell necklace I made for the baby! Y/n is going to teach me how to make a quilt for the baby next!” The two adults back up watching from a far in shock as they witness Tonowari pick up their child and spin her in the air as she giggled. They hear each others hearts shatter hearing Tuk call someone else, some they didn’t even know well enough mom and dad. To make matters worse they then heard a laugh coming from a far, a laugh they didn’t even recognize…

“Tuk! It was supposed to be a surprise for Mom!” Y/n walks hand in hand with Aonung as a Tyseria follows next to the couple with a flower crown in her hand that Y/n taught her to make. Tuk sticks her tongue out showing a silly face to her two sisters, walking towards them.

Neytiri couldn’t stand this anymore she rushed out of hiding. “Y/n? Tuk? My children.” She rushed to hug the two kids that were once her’s, something she didn’t understand. Everyone in the circle saw it, saw something switch in Y/n, there was something cold behind her eyes. As quickly as Neytiri came in is as quickly as Y/n picked up Tuk and stepped back putting the women at a stop. “We’ve found you! You’ve grown so much, and you seem so strong my children. It’s ok we will retu-“ it wasn’t until Neytiri’s sentence came at a halt with a hiss. “MY children will NOT return to you. They are no longer “your children” they were never yours.” Jake comes into view in disbelief looking at the older daughter that fled the forest, putting herself in between the two woman as she holds Tuk in her arms with her head held up high, hissing at Neytiri telling her to back off. There was still three kids that follow carefully behind hidden in the shadows still, share the same look as Tyseria and Aonung witness the situation.

“I am Y/n, daughter of Tonowari and Ronal. I found my own home. I am not leaving. I hear you. You just don’t understand how it is now.” Jake couldn’t stand by and listen any longer he was just growing more frustrated but he knew he must try to remain as calm as possible to the damaged girl, that’s all he ever viewed her as

Broken.

Reckless.

Idiotic.

Too foolish to ever hold her own.

His voice speaks from behind “We understand you. Y/n don’t do that. We paid our dues with the pain of not waking up to you and Tuk everyday. We took care of you when you were babies. You can come with us but you aren’t allowing yourself too. Listen to me. You don’t have to hide anymore not you, not Tuk. Don’t you want that for yourselves? For her?” I look at the man in front of me, I try making it clear nicely but any longer and he might just push me over the edge. “Jake, this idea of yours-“

Jake looks confused at the sound of his daughter not even referring to him as dad, even when she was most upset, even during their last argument it was never ‘Jake’. He quickly states “this idea of mine is what kept you close for a long time.” I shake my head urging him to listen before my patience was up. “Jake, it takes more than words, you can’t just talk me into coming back to your family. you think I didn’t want a life the way I do now, from the beginning? From the moment I was able to walk that’s all I ever wanted. I prayed to Eywa that you would come to your realizations before our time was up but that’s just not how it worked.” Neytiri stared at the girl with tears in her eyes begging Eywa to stop any more words coming out that could hurt Neytiri even more. “Please my child, I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner , I’m so sorry you had to do it on your own . Come home.” Y/n gave another blank stare “Can’t you hear me ? I’m not coming to your home.” That was it, everything Jake heard felt like nonsense to his ears, his silent frustration built up for his own daughter came back.

“You and Tuk were gone. You vanished. We missed out on important parts of your life. And your telling me you aren’t coming home? You ran away and took Tuk with you. You think because you were a little girl that you could just pull yourselves out and no one will care. That because your “sorry” Our lost time with you both will all magically come back? That’s not how it works.” Tonowari and Ronal decided that weren’t going to no longer hold back “That’s enough! You will not speak to My child that way-“ Hearing Jake say what he just said alerted the coldness that Y/n tried to put aside come back. He still hadn’t changed. “You have no right. You never raised me. You don’t get to take over now and show up again to pull us out of the family we surrounded ourselves with. Real. Family. So shut up Jake. This isn’t about our lost time. I could give zero shits anymore. I would’ve still been lost in a transit, in the same old routine because YOU. refused to pick up any pieces of what YOU broke. This is about what I did. And you know what Jake? I did a great fucking job. Tuk learned everything from me. You barley spent as much time with her compared to me even before I left and that’s sad. She’s at the top of everything for her age group here. She learned survival, and the ways of water at a young age, at a quicker rate than you ever will. And you know what WE did it all no thanks to you because you. weren’t. here.” The wave of anger sent reminders to him that she was going to send him back to the major argument they had. “I- I’m here now.” His voice breaks now as hold his wife in his arms. “You don’t even know who we are?!”

Neytiri then yells out a broken scream “We’re your parents!” And to this I brush their words away “Well now they (looking at Tonowari and Ronal) took the EMPTY spot you were supposed to be so yk what? Your right you were my mother, but the most you ever did for me was birth me. But they are a here now. So your worries that you suddenly have for me and my feelings starting from the night YOUR husband left me to die, they’re done. You don’t need to worry anymore. We are not yours to bare.”

Neytiri drops down and cries like Y/n and Tuk weren’t even on Pandora anymore, like they passed through Eywa. I looked up at Jake and decided to say my last words. “You made a mess and you weren’t even there to pick it up. So remember when I say this. I was always just the chore to you and you were too bored to pick it up. But I will do you and I one last favor. You will never speak or look at me again. You will find moonlight nights strangely empty because when you call my name, there will be no answer, not even a look. You are allowed to stay on this island and you better be grateful because without me, you are nothing. Nothing but a man who’s afraid to accept the truth, still always holding frustration. But don’t think I’m doing it for you. I’m saving your kids from being lost, something I wish I had guidance for.” With that, the family walked away from the couple and continued their home until…

The three siblings (Loak, neteyam and kiri) come into view as well crying tears and rushing to hug Y/n “h-how? We’re so sorry” For them, it meant everything that Y/n accepted their hug. In y/n’s mind she couldn’t hold a grudge, she loved her siblings regardless of their subconscious pushing. They were just kids as well, how could they have seen it? “I could never be seriously mad at you guys, we were just kids.” their quietness came to an end a few moments later with Tuk “ok guys…I can’t breathe your holding us too tight!” We all laughed.

Finally the small part of Y/n’s heart was healed. She didn’t hold anything back. She was at peace before yes, but now the cold side of her, the side that always lingered around said what needed to be said, she didn’t need to worry anymore. That’s when Tonowari and Ronal saw what they finally been waiting for, their daughter healed fully they viewed her as

Strong.

Graceful.

Kind.

Smart.

Y/n was so happy, she had Tuk still, she remained with her family and healed any pent up anger she had. “Ok sunshine! Where to next ? I say we go eat!” Tuk rushes out of y/n’s arms “THEN LETS GOOOOO COME ON GUYS LETS GO HOME!” Y/n grabs Aonung’s hand while he smiled at the girl “uh…I thinkkk you guys didn’t hear her? LETS GO! I’LL RACE YOU ALL!” That’s when everyone ran (only the teens and Tuk) Tonowari and Ronal smiled at the girl who faced everything she was dealt with and no longer sitting in silent frustration. She was finally able to say her older habit and mean it- Y/n tripped when running to the finish line and everyone came at a stop “ITS OK! I’M FINE! I MADE IT AND THAT MEANS I FINALLY WIN!” Laughter and happiness surrounds the room while Y/n run in hand and hand with Tuk ready to walk into their home.

I really hope you loved this series as much as I loved writing it. :) This is the final part however….I will be doing a mini series to add onto this! To show more of how growing up was for Y/n that way you can see more of her dark past and the troubles she went through. 💓 thank you for all the love and support on this series this literally means so much 🥲💕

Tag list: @noodlesfics @eywas-heir @itshype

@zatarias-pandora @yeosxxx @arminsgfloll

@abbersreads @tsireyak @neteyamforlife @aimsro

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 4

WC: 439 Materpost CW: Mild Family Drama

Thankfully it wasn’t long before Danny could get home and take a hot shower. The casserole he’d taken out of the freezer was fine to go in the oven at that point, and he tossed it in as he finished drying off his hair. It was getting long again. He’d kept it a bit shorter since he’d started working and figured he’d be due for another cut soon. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to schedule it, or else he’d just put it off until it was unmanageable.

And then he was left staring at his phone.

Thinking about Jazz.

Maybe he should give her another call— another chance.

The phone was ringing before he had thought much about it.

“Danny?”

“Hi Jazz— Jasmine, sorry.”

“It’s fine, Danny,” she said, but Danny could hear the reprimand in her tone. “What going on?”

“I just…” Why was this so hard? “…wanted to call back? Our last call cut short and I didn’t get to tell you everything.”

“Lacey needed me.”

“That wasn’t— I wasn’t trying to say you shouldn’t have ended the call, I just thought I’d try again. I know you’re busy there. You’re still planning the baby shower, right? I’ve got some vacation—”

“Lacey and I talked, and we don’t think you should come,” Jazz said over him. “And not until the baby has been through all their major shots either. It’s just, you’re around disease a lot and we don’t want to take any chances. You get it, right?”

No, he really didn’t. He was emergency response. Jazz would know that if she ever listened to him.

“…Can I at least get the baby something? Do you have one of those list things?”

“It’s called a registry, Danny.”

Danny held back a sigh. He didn’t want this to end in a fight. “Okay, do you have a registry, Jasmine?”

“Of course we do. But we don’t expect you to get us anything off of it,” she said quickly. “We’ve picked out everything based on the latest research into cognitive development and reviews so nothing on it is… cheap.”

“I have a job.” This was going to be like the fight about his schooling all over again— where Jazz called his paramedical degree a trade school. Like there was something wrong with a trade school anyways. “Just send it through, okay? I’ll see whats on it and I won’t send anything that’s not. And I won’t try to visit.”

“Danny…”

“Give Lacey my best, I’ve got to go,” Danny said, hanging up before he could say the angry words that were bubbling up in his throat.

----- AN: So maybe I'm still not over my sil calling my masters of science a trade school. Though there is nothing wrong with a trade school at all and I'll fight anyone who says so. I honestly wished we had more of them in the US. But yep- I might have picked some of the less lovely traits of my sil and a friend to put into Jazz here. I'm not trying to bash her, I just think it would have been so easy for her to go this way if nothing ever came of her parent's research and she didn't have to adjust her world view to helping save her little brother's life nightly. And if all she saw in that little brother now was someone who supposedly didn't try and maybe resents for having to always be the Big Sister.

Danny could sure use some hugs though.

Due to the new post editor and being shadow banned, I no longer tag! You can subscribe to this post instead to be notified in the same way.

[kkami-writes]

devil's advocate — chapter four. cw. none wc. 1k + 6 SS

As the boys climb the stairs back to their dorms the first thing they notice is the obvious music that’s blaring past the walls of their apartment. It’s not terribly loud, but the closer they come to the door they can clearly hear God's menu practically vibrating against the walls. They open the door to see you, just lounging on the couch with your phone in your hand, head bobbing to the addicting beat. You don’t even notice their arrival until the door closes, turning to see the eight boys piling back into their dorm. 

You reach for the remote, lowering the music down until it’s basically background noise. They also notice that you’re no longer clad in the lingerie you had been summoned in, trading it for a cozy oversized hoodie and some shorts. 

“Hey!! Welcome home. You guys are pretty good honestly, I’m very impressed,” This brings smiles to their faces, somewhat pleased that you had liked their music. They say some quick greetings before dispersing to do their night routines. 

Jisung on the other hand, comes over and plops himself down next to you on the couch. You’re a little surprised as you turn to face him, a cute heart shaped smile on his face as he nudges you playfully. 

“What’s your favorite song?” He asks simply, looking at you expectantly. It has you thinking for a second as you go through the songs you listened to through your head.

“I’ve only just started going through your discography but, I think I’m drawn to Levanter. The lyrics are really powerful and I found the MV really interesting too,” 

“Nice, nice. By the way, what’s this plan of yours?” He tilts his head to the side cutely and it almost makes you wanna actually tell him but you wave him off instead. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon enough,” Jisung gives you a look. “It’s nothing bad. I promise,” It looks like he wants to continue to question you but a loud yawn interrupts him. You laugh softly as you go to pet his head but stopping, not sure if the male wanted to be touched. He seems to see your struggle so he simply moves his head to meet your hand, nuzzling into your palm and the sight nearly melts your heart. If you had a heart.

“Go to bed, it’s late. I’m sure you guys will be up early again,” He nods before slipping off the couch, leaving you to be alone in your thoughts again. You move to turn the music off completely now, sitting there as a silence overtakes the whole dorm, the boys settling down to sleep. Normally, it wasn’t hard to keep your mind empty, not much to really think about in hell anyway. So it feels weird to have your thoughts suddenly racing. You can’t help but think about how long you might end up with these boys.

You only have heard of contracts being signed with demons but beyond that you basically knew nothing, much less how to break said contract. It hurts your head to think about it, so instead you move towards the room the boys had provided for you, hoping that you could just sleep these thoughts off. 

The next morning is similar to the previous one, with you making seven cups of coffee and the boys running around to prepare for the day. Bangchan is once again the last one out the door and you wave goodbye to him, a slightly mischievous grin spread across your lips. 

“Bye! See you soon!” He’s all too distracted to really think about your word choice, quickly making his way down the stairs and into the awaiting vans to take him to schedules. 

It’s not until later that afternoon does he understand your words. 

They’re in the dance studio, going over some steps when a knock at the door interrupts them. Chan greets the older male who walks in. 

“Joon hyung, hello. What’s up?” Joon gestures for the kids to take a seat on the leather couch in the corner of the studio, all of them eagerly obliging in taking a much needed break. Joon was head of the production team for the kids, setting up filming times and future content for their youtube account. 

“So, let me start by letting you know that your manager Chun-Soo has quit,” At this, the boys are silent, confusion evident on their faces. They had just talked to their manager a few days ago, why had the man suddenly quit? “Something about winning the lottery? I’m not entirely sure. Of course, don’t worry. We had originally planned for your smaller managers to take turns to be in charge but pd-nim has already found you a replacement! On top of being your new head manager, they’ll be a live-in manager at your dorms. They’re in charge of making sure dorm life is comfortable, keeping an eye on your well being and health,” 

At this, panic fills them. Their eyes go wide as they exchange worried glances. A live-in manager? This was bad. Really bad. How were they going to explain the demon that was already taking residence in their dorm? 

“Miss Yn? You can come in,” Their heads snap up to stare at their producer, still in a state of shock. It’s you who walks in, dressed in a nice pants suit. The clack of your heels against the hard floor of the dance studio rings in their ears as they stare. They’re pretty sure it’s you, it looks just like you minus the pair of red horns and tail they had started to associate you with. Instead of the bright red eyes, they’re now a muted caramel brown, a clear glint of mischief in them. 

When you stop in front of the leather couch, you have to bite back the laugh you want to let out at their shell shocked faces. They’re openly gaping at you and you wished you could take a picture. 

“Hello. I’m YN, I'll be your new head manager starting today. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m looking forward to working with you boys,” You bow politely, sending them a cheeky grin and they can clearly see your sharp canines.

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[chicksmoothie]

•Say it like you mean it — mingi

—you have a very hard time dealing with your nightmares, so your studiocolleague and hard crush mingi helps you out sleeping better

Pairing dom!Mingi x sub!fem!reader/Chick

Genre Smut & Romance, Music Studio AU. Includes fluff & kinks

WordCount 4K

Warnings +18 content, minors DNI, nightmares, sleep paralysis, dirty talk, really dirty sex (urophilia and anal as the kinkiest), cursing, a bit of a size kink, smile kink (??), and I think that’s it, please tell me if I am forgetting something!

This in no way aims to be a real depiction of Mingi, just a character based on him!!! Same goes for Wooyoung, who appears for a sec.

AN: HIIII!!

Firs of all, I would like to thank you for reading :) this is actually my first fic since I was a teenager so I am a little shy about sharing it, but a friend asked me to do it so here it is!

I must say three things that you might want to know:

I use Chick instead of y/n cos it helps me write

English is not my first language and although I am confident in my english skills there might be some typos, weird use of english or gramatical errors, so sorry in advance

This story will continue as independent chapters of the same AU, but it won’t follow any schedule

Say it like you mean it

You are trying to stop moving throughtout your nightmare but it is kinda impossible, as always.

The night is getting longer and longer and this shitty dream doesn’t seem to end. You have always had this problem: you know you are sleeping, that it is a dream and you kinda control it till a certain point where it turns into a nightmare, and then you are unable to wake up. You try screaming, moving or opening your eyes but nothing works. You are trapped until your body is too tired to keep fighting against your wish to snap out of it, or someone wakes you up. The latter is what happens this time.

You blink a few times, trying to swipe the blur in your still sleepy eyes, just to guess a massive dark silhouette bending over you. “Hey, you alright Chick?” The silhouette asks “You were making a funny face” Your eyes finally focus. “Mingi” you manage to answer with a raspy voice, just awaken. “Yeah, thanks… I just need to get some water”. The guy immediatly hands you a bottle of cold water, which you thank and firstly put on your forehead to get rid of even the last bit of nightmare that might remain.

“Were you dreaming?” You open the bottle and drink a tiny zip. “Yes, nightmares, I get them quite a lot” You don’t know why you are telling this to Mingi. The guy could just be a random studiopartner who you sometimes help with lyrics and beats, but well, apart from that, he is the guy you secretly have a huge crush on and the same guy you draw every session day cos you can’t get over his profile, lips, adams apple or shiny eyes. His short pink hair has been printed in your brain along with his smile since the moment you first landed your eyes on him. You are totally delusional for him. And eventhough his mates are obssessed with shipping you together, you don’t get any sexy vibe from him towards you, so you just enjoy his company and, why not saying it, his sight too. You get along really well, and you don’t even think about fucking that up.

“Are they really bad? I mean, you seemed just upset while sleeping, but not enough for it to be a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from”. The next explanaition you give him surprises you even more, cos you spend the next good 10 minutes telling him about your whole problem with sleep paralysis, and this is something you normally avoid at all cost. And, oh my god, not him paying attention without saying a word until you finish, making you blush, cheeks beet red. “And that’s it I guess, not too deep”.

You don’t normally get knocked out like this at the studio, so it isn’t going to happen again anyway. You could just keep helping each other with your songs as you’ve been doing till now before this tiny shitty incident, end this conversation right here and keep going with your lifes, “Do you need someone to wake you up like I did just now?” until he asks this “I might be able to do that” and states this other thing.

“Sorry, I think I don’t get you” you are trying your best to brush off the thought of Mingi being next to you while sleeping before burning with the need of having that scene in real life, “As I said, I offer myself to stay next to you while you sleep just in case you need a hand to wake up” until he offers himself to…fuck, to actually do so.

“Yooooooooo…” you both jump in surprise, your conversation being interrupted by Wooyoung, one of Mingis teamates. “Flirting again I see” Mingi slightly blushing and flicking his tounge. “Fuck off Woyo” he turns to your direction and says “Give it some thought, I might be of help”. He tries hard to hide his nervous smile, dimple showing and eyes shining. And then he fucking leaves.

Woyo laughs while waving goodbye “Well, princess, it is getting late, you should go home”

What the fuck was that just now, you ask yourself.

****************************************************

Your dreams are getting not only worse, but also more frequent. The last nightmare with sleep paralysis was the fifth out of seven nights a week has. That is double as much as they were before, and this situation has been going on for another two weeks.

Your lack of quality sleep has you dozzing off during lesson and keeps your brain bottled up, unable to concentrate nor being creative on your music. It has reached to a point where you would get paranoid and afraid of the night itself, which implies being unable to sleep at all. You are tired both physically and mentally, and Mingi and the guys from the studio can tell.

This is why Mingi takes you to the studios kitchen, sits you on a chair and goes “You’re not sleeping shit”. You can only nod. “Why won’t you ask for help? I offered, but it doesn’t have to be me if you are not comfortable with that” you look up at him, doubting if you should tell him that no one knows about your nightmares. You bite your lip until you throw it: “I can’t tell just anyone cos it embarrasses me,” deep breath “so you are the only one who knows” Mingi is so shocked you can tell miles away, given the face he is making. After the shock comes the seriousness. “Okay, you are sleeping beside me tonight”. And all you can do is nod again, tired and surrendered.

****************************************************

You throw the key away in the desk by the door, hang your coat and make a gesture for Mingi to do the same. “I am sorry it isn’t tidy”. He wanders around with his eyes just to catch how full of paintings and drawings, sculptures and some other things he can not really classify this house of yours is.

“Your place is actually amazing. How come you have so much arty stuff?” You can tell he is genuinely interested “Oh, I majored in Fine Arts, currently writing my thesis, so this is research material you could say” He widen his eyes “Wait, I thought you were a singer, like, I’ve seen you live” Trying to supress your smile you say “Well, I do that too. I do a bit of everything, never good enough at anything to live on it” He automatically shakes his head in disapproval, “The fuck you saying, that doesn’t show on your songs or in all this, baby” You look at him, not sure about what you should be more shocked about: the fact that he was giving you credit on all of your work so fervently or the fact that he just casually called you baby.

Shit, you could get used to that. “I am going to order the pizza,” you shake it off quickly, “you can choose a movie or something. The TV is over there.” Is this a fucking date? Really? Pizza is okay but, girl, a movie? Bloody hell you are hooked.

After a while watching Inuyasha, chosen by you and accepted by him since not surprisingly he loves anime, you start to feel that new but already familiar feeling of not being able to keep your eyes open due to tiredness. Also not surprisingly, you don’t lose to paranoia and fear tonight, since Mingi is close enough to you to be able to feel his body heat. It makes you nervous in a totally different way, and also calm enough to finally fall asleep on his shoulder.

It is all pitch black, you can’t see a thing and you try to reach something around you but your hands keep slipping through cold air and emptyness. You feel you are too alone for it to even be possible, you feel such loneliness, such fear of what you can’t see. Everything around you is still cold and still empty and your hands are still slipping through the air and you can’t find anything or anyone to wake you up.

Thats it, you are dreaming. Another shitty fucking nightmare. Please someone wake me, please. You try to say it, your mouth opens up and maybe emits the sound but you can’t hear it. You also try to pull your own arm in a desperate attempt of inflicting yourself some pain that shakes you out of this dream, but fail. Your body blocks any kind of action you try to start. Cold drops of sweat rolling through your body outside the dream, you can feel it, you are right in between, why can’t you reach the surface?

It suddenly happens. A hand would gently caress your sweat away outside the dream, first thing you feel in what seemed ages. And that’s what it takes. You slowly open your eyes, also slowly focusing on a worried Mingi. “You alright?” You are suddenly so calm, everything just sets right.

You close your eyes again and rest for the first time in a long time.

When you wake up you are in your bed, fully covered with your 3k blankets (you are really not a cold person) and a fucking big and heavy arm. Mingi is right behind you, breathing soundly on your nape. Shut up. Shut the fuck up because this is not fucking happening. I am still dreaming. You tell yourself all that, but reality says otherwise, since Mingi wakes up to your tiniest move in order to wake you if needed, and he had just noticed how your body suddenly tensed.

“Chick? You awake?” Shit is his morning voice sexy “Good morning Mingi” you can’t even turn around from embarrassment “Good morning baby” BABY, againnnn?jeheodjeifhehehdjhd “Did you sleep any better?” You just manage to nod, unable to emit any sound or word since apparently you have forgotten your own language. “Why won’t you talk? Are you alright?”

His fingers start to have a stroll through your hair, drawing circles on your scalp. What is he up to? You wonder, cos this situation would normally lead to something you know far too well. But, as always, you’d rather die than admit that these things happen to you, that someone might be interested in you. You need more, a bit of a bigger proof. “Hey, Chick, please talk to me, do you need water or something?… Did you fall asleep again?” This last bit is nearly a whisper. Did he actually lower his voice just now just in case you had fallen asleep? You can’t take it. That is too fucking endearing. You break in laughter and turn around, smiling at him. “Thanks Mingi, I slept amazing”.

And there you are, facing each other closer than ever. Just a few centimeters away from his lips, as you had imagined too many times to even fucking count. So what do you do now, you beg someone to tell you. The hand that was previously caressing your head had, lets say naturally, landed on your waist when you abruptly turned around, and somehow it started moving with the same motion it had on your head, but now on its new location. “Yeah? I’m glad, and you are welcome” A bright smile on his lips, still so close to yours you could breathe his words in. You just can’t stop looking at him, he is too bright himself, so pretty. His smile is too much for you, fuck, you might actually cry.

But you don’t have time to do that, cos Mingi takes the chance of you looking at his lips to put on yours his pretty smile. It lasts a second, but when he moves his face away from you, your heart tightens and your eyes shut close to try to process the warmth in your chest. Where did all these overwhelming feelings come from? You never thought it was so deep. Was it this deep? Have you been cockblocking your own feelings for this guy as you always do just to avoid facing them? Hell yeah you have girl. When you open your eyes Mingi is looking at you, clearly puzzled since he thinks he might have gone overboard with the kiss. Your hands find his cheeks, pressing against them so hard his mouth turns into a fish face.

“I am in love with you” You look at him gently for a second, just settling your words altogether with your flaming chest. His face is a poem: the fish face now has his eyes wide open in surprise, and you break in laughter again. He slowly takes your hands away while his expression changes just to grab your chin with one of his own hands “You mean it? Say it like you mean it” his eyes are a bit narrowed, his new and unknown expression tainted in something dark that you can feel right in your lower half. He wants to know, he wants to hear you say it like you mean it.

You swallow, looking at him in the eyes while trying to catch your breath “Mingi I lov-“ And thats all you manage to say, cos next Mingi is full on pressing his lips against yours, your whole body against his, so much bigger than yours. It sounds so messy in your mouths you feel shy about it, but all you can do is give in to him, finally reaching each other as you both apparently wanted to. His hands are all over your body. Fuck you are needy. Fuck he also is.

So you move your hands near the “whatever cloth’s he has got” elastic and pull it down. He growls in your mouth, anticipating what you are about to do. And, although he wants you to do it, he also wants to pleasure you first.

“Baby, wait” you look at him, quite confused again both for him stopping you and also him calling you baby for the third time as if nothing. “Let me get on top, yeah?” As if you could fucking answer anything to that. He slips on top of you making it seem like he has done it every single day of his life, with such ease. When you feel him grind against you, you melt down and pant. You want him so much it’s insane.

In a second attempt to take action you stroke yourself against him, and again he stops you “Be a good girl, huh? Let me work you just right for a bit” you automatically stop and nod biting your lips, eyes full of needy tears, making his chin clench and tighten in lust at the sight of this undone under him you. He goes back to your mouth and kisses you, and this time he does it so damn slowly, as if he loved you back? His tongue going over your lips and making its way inside your mouth, finally eating your breath up in the sweetest kiss ever.

His hands are covering your cheeks and reaching behind your ears through your neck, and this could sound all too innocent and fluffy if he wasn’t grinding against your already soaked pussy so hard but at the same slow pace as the kiss. You moan between his lips, earning another one of his smiles, this time a bit cheeky. “Needy aren’t we?” He didn’t expect it, but you grin yourself and go back to his mouth and almost whispering you say “Yeah baby, so fucking needy for you”. Mingi tenses from head to toe, grinds one time just as a reflex and slaps you slightly on your cheek, “And what exactly is it that you need, needy girl?” “Mingi, please” your grin dropping and you cry while your arms wrap around his lower back just to pull him even closer, pressing your clit against his already rock hard dick, making you both moan.

“Words baby, wanna hear you say it” he growls while grinning and you cant help but obey without even thinking, “Mingi, really give it to me,pretty please? Fuck me stupid hm?” You know your slutty begging tone is effective, but not to this extent, cos one second after your last word is Mingi dragging your pants and panties down, lining his dick and pushing it slowly inside you. Slowly, very slowly, cos you are wetter than ever, but he is so, so, so big. You both sighing deep due to the sudden hit of his cock entering you.

“You feel amazing around me. Going so slow is torture” He is looking into your eyes, so when you push yourself up in order to take him whole in one go, you have the perfect sight of his eyelids flicking and his eyes rolling up to the back of his head, enjoying the pleasure it gives him. “Fuck, baby, so good” he bites his lips while now moving in and out of you, still slowly, still so sweet.

Your pussy clenching at the sound of his praising. “Mingi come closer, I wanna kiss you” “Because you love me?” You nod “Words baby” and he demands. “I love you Mingi, please let me kiss you” He smiles brightly. “I love you too” and so he’s got you. You’re done for.

The moment he bends down to kiss you you swallow his mouth, arch your back and make his cock enter you the fucking perfect angle that you both needed to finally lose it. Mingi starts to fuck you hard, taking your legs to roll them around his waist, making you push him deeper with each time he bangs. Your eyes crying and your voice crying too, your head falling back in pleasure, him growling your name and praising how good your pussy tastes for his cock, his body pressed so tightly to yours and every inch of your body feeling so full of him.

You start to feel that burning knot in your core, this hot sensation that you have never felt with a guy fucking you before and that you could only reach with your fingers.

“Mingi I think am gonna cum” you cry “Cum baby, drench me, yeah?” As if you were following his every order, the knot pulls you to your orgasm faster than it ever has before, but he doesn’t stop “You think you can take it a bit longer?” And for some reason you do. And not only that, being so overstimulated turns you on so much that you end up begging with your eyes still rolled back from the high of your orgasm and your body still shaking “Mingi don’t fucking stop, please”.

And he doesn’t, but he does bend you over the mattress, your face sunken in the pillow. He has your ass up to the sky and he can’t help but suck his thumb and then stroke its entrance in circles while still banging your pussy. When you feel his finger entering your ass and trying to find and press his own cock through your flesh inside you, all the overstimulation that has built up finally overcomes you. “Mingi…something different is coming!” You shout ridiculously still pressed against the pillow. He doesn’t stop, he knows what is gonna happen and he wants to see it from the front row. And this is not going to take long, you just need a little push. “Come on babygirl, let me see it” he gasps while rocking his hips.

All of a sudden this heat that comes along with the orgasm mixes with a burning feeling in your clit. Mingi takes his mostly free hand to go down to it and press on really fast and really hard. You scream his name as if it was the last thing you would say. Your legs so week you can’t even keep yourself in all fours, your pussy clamping and drenching the whole bed with your squirt. “Jesus Christ baby, that is so fucking sexy. You’re such a slut huh? Wetting your bed like that. And this is all for me.”

A growl followed by a slap on your ass, this time very hard, nothing to do with the previous one on your face, announce his own orgasm. This one slap is meant to mark you as his, make himself stamp his own pleasure for you on your skin as if he could’t stay still. And then he slows down, pouring all his cum inside your pussy, while still fucking your asshole with his thumb in the same slowing pace.

He pulls out and you whine, feeling too empty all of a sudden. You think it is over and somehow you feel kinda disappointed “I thought you were gonna fuck my ass too” he can’t even finish to lean beside you because he falls apart in laughing tears “Are you for real? After this?” “I don’t know” you say, eyes looking down at Mingis body lying just by your side, you still down faced and breathing irregularly “I was ready for everything”.

Mingi takes your face and kisses you dearly while, again, smliling through your mouth and making you smile too. “I am not gonna fuck your asshole...” you pout, he smiles even wider. “…today. But I am going to clean you up”. He starts kissing you again, then going down your neck with tiny little pecks, he stops for a minute on your chest, your nipples and down to your bellybutton.

The pleasure this time is different. You know you are unable to cum anymore after squirting so hard, at least not in a couple of minutes without any stimuli. But this pleasure is just pleasure for you to enjoy without the orgasm as the reward. Just Mingi feeding you full with attention like this is just right, just enough. You anticipate his next kissing stop, you know what he is about to do and you burn inside with desire. “Mingi…” You pull his short pink hair at the time you push his face between your legs for him to eat you out only as a fucking professional rapper like him would do. The thought of him sucking you clean of his own cum is driving you nuts. “Shit Mingi, so good…” You are too sensitive right now, but somehow it still feels good to have him gently sucking you.

Once he finishes, he is now hard again, and not that you are surprised. You look up at him, asking with your gaze what you should do. He grins “Stay still babe, lay towards the headboard for me” you obey and he gets closer to you, towering you under his huge body and leaning forward, just to have your face aligned with his dick.

He starts stroking in a slow motion at first, then hurrying the pace as he watches you open your mouth while looking at him in the eyes. “I wanna cum on your face” he sighs while closing his eyes “And then I wanna piss all over your body”. At this point this does only not surprise you, but you ache for it too.

Your eyes meet, he is waiting for your approval. Your only answer being gulping, licking your lips and opening your mouth again while looking at his cock pointing at you. “Fuck” he manages to say. And then he cums hard, fast, all on your face and making it drip to your tits. “I am gonna drench you baby, say you want it. Tell me” “Mingi” keep crying, “I do want it so fucking bad…” Right this instant, after coming down from his climax, does he start showering you in his piss, moaning hard with his low voice a bit pitched this time, looking down at you getting covered. Your body suffering because of the temperature difference between the fluid and your skin, and thus making you tremble until he finally finishes his load.

He falls over you and rolls down until he can rest on your lap. “You are incredible” he says. You smile, proud of yourself and also proud of him. “So are you, baby” and hearing yourself saying “baby” reminds you something you’ve been wondering. “Yo Mingi, how come you so casually started calling me baby out of nowhere?” He looked up at you and gave you that smile of his that you’ve spent hours drawing. “I’ve dreamt of it so many times it came out naturally”.

He takes you to the bathroom to get a very needed shower. And under the warm water you think about your next dreams being as normal as his, quiter and maybe safer since from now on you would be sleeping next to Mingi.

Part 2 whenever

[sissylittlefeather]

This is the Story

Chapter 6

A/N: I'm super nervous to publish this chapter, for some reason, so if you like it please let me know! And I hope you do love it! This is so fluffy it's the unicorn from Despicable Me.

ICYMI: This is the one with the OC Grace Dubois, author and single mom of Wendy. It's set in 1973 and this chapter happens in November, just after Halloween. Need to catch up? Here are links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Warnings: None really? Again. It's. So. Fluffy.

Word count: 2.9k

Song that inspired the series:

Both Elvis and Grace get ready for bed and attempt sleeping, trying and failing to think of anything but each other.

******

The next day, Grace takes her time getting ready to go to Graceland. She normally arrives around lunchtime, but today it's almost 2pm. When she finally arrives, she knocks on the door and Elvis answers. He gives her an awkward smile and coughs as he gestures for her to come in. They get up to his office and he seems to be having trouble sitting still. He keeps getting up to get a glass of water or an aspirin or to go to the bathroom.

Grace starts to think she imagined everything that she thought was between them last night. He seems to be doing everything in his power to avoid her. Why did he hug her then? And the almost kiss? What was that if he can't stand to be in her presence?

After about an hour of this, Grace is starting to get irritated with him. Eventually, he stops her from asking questions.

"I'm sorry; I think we're going to have to be done for today. I'm not feeling well." He smiles awkwardly and stands up to walk her to the door.

Now she's angry. Yes, maybe it was a little awkward after last night, but if he has to make up a lie about not feeling well just to get out of her presence, she's not going to force him. She nods curtly and heads for the door. When they get there, he acts like he wants to hug her again, but she walks straight past him to her car.

The next day is Friday, so she drops Wendy off at school and is ready to let Elvis know how she's feeling when the phone rings out of nowhere.

"Ms. Dubois? This is Jerry Schilling. Elvis won't be needing you to come to the house today. Thank you." Click.

He didn't even give her a chance to ask why or say anything at all. But if Elvis is that desperate to avoid her, then fine. She'll just wait until the weekly Sunday night call, when they make a schedule for the upcoming week, to let him know what she thinks.

But on Sunday evening, there's no phone call. Grace sits on the side of her bed trying not to cry. What did she do wrong? It felt like maybe she had finally found someone she could trust after all these years. But now he is reminding her of Wendy's father. She had trusted him and then he abandoned her when she needed him the most. Was Elvis doing the same thing? She wasn't exactly in a crisis, but he was already proving that he was untrustworthy.

Frank was right. She should've kept her distance.

"Mama, what's wrong?" Wendy comes into her room and sits next to her on the bed.

"Oh, nothing, I'm fine, sweetie."

"Is this about Daddy?"

"Daddy?"

"Mr. Presley!" Wendy rolls her eyes a little that Grace doesn't remember.

"Honey, no. It has nothing to do with him. And he's not your daddy. You shouldn't call him that."

"Why not? Lisa Marie said I could." Grace puts a hand on her forehead. The pounding behind her eyes is starting to get to her.

"You just... can't, okay?" Wendy nods slowly.

"Sure. I'll stop." She says it quietly, but she has no intention of stopping.

On Monday morning, Grace is ready to go to battle with Elvis. He has now ignored her for three full days. It doesn't matter how awkward it might've been on Halloween. He could at least apologize to her face and let her know he wasn't interested. Instead, he's sneaking around and avoiding her like a child. And he was mad that she disappeared?

She drops Wendy off and goes straight to the house around 9am. It's earlier than she's ever been there and she knows Elvis is probably still asleep, but she is fully prepared to stand in the foyer and yell until he comes down.

She stomps up to the door and knocks loudly. Jerry answers slowly.

"Ms. Dubois, what are you doing here? He's not..." Grace pushes past him into the front hall.

"Elvis! You owe me an explanation!"

"He's not here, Grace." She whips around to Jerry. Did he take off? He's probably back in Vegas.

"Where the FUCK is he, Jerry?!" Jerry shakes his head. He's obviously avoiding telling her. Just then, the phone rings. He walks to it and answers it carefully. Grace stands close by. She can hear Elvis's father, Vernon, on the other end of the line.

"What is it?" Jerry asks.

"He's asking for Grace. Should we call her?" Jerry turns and looks at her. He knows she heard that.

"We don't need to call her. She's here."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"I think I have to. Especially if he's asking for her."

"Well, alright then." Jerry hangs up the phone and looks at her nervously.

"Jerry, you better tell me what's going on right now." He hesitates before he opens his mouth.

"He's in the hospital. He has pneumonia. The doctors are worried..."

Jerry keeps talking but Grace doesn't hear anything else. Her heart sinks to her stomach and feels like it's in a vice. Everything starts to sounds garbled and her heart rate hits the roof. Her hands start shaking and without another thought, she turns on her heel and starts running towards her car. She has to get to him, now. She feels tears stream down her face as she tries to get her key into the car door, but she's shaking too much. Then, she feels Jerry's hand on her shoulder gently.

"Come on. I'll drive you." He takes the keys and guides her around to the passenger side. Once they're headed for the hospital, Grace begins to sob openly.

"This whole time I've been so angry and he's in the hospital."

"Oh, Grace, you had no way of knowing."

"What if he dies?!" She turns to Jerry frantically. "Please. He can't die." She's begging Jerry like he has some control over the situation.

"You really care about him, don't you?" Grace looks down at her hands and continues crying. She didn't even realize how much she cared about him until she knew he was in danger.

"I really do." Jerry smiles softly and looks over at her in the passenger seat. "Please don't tell him. I still don't know how he feels about me."

"Grace, I'm not sure I've ever seen him like this before. Usually between shows, he gets very sulky and spends most of his time in his room. But now? He's always so excited to see you. His mood is better than ever. Even the other guys have noticed. Don't feel bad for caring about him."

She swallows hard and thinks about what this might mean. Just then, Jerry pulls into the hospital parking lot. She can't think about any of that right now. Right now she just needs to see him and make sure he's okay.

******

Elvis has been in and out of delirious consciousness for the last two days. His fever is very high and he needs oxygen to keep breathing. Today is the first day he's been able to speak. He pulls the oxygen mask off again and gestures for his father to come close to him.

"Did you call Grace? Is she coming?"

"I'm not sure. We told her, but I don't know if she's coming."

He puts the oxygen mask back on for a bit. Surely, she'll come? If nothing else, she said she wouldn't disappear again. She said they could be friends. This is his last thought before he drifts off to sleep.

******

Grace walks carefully into the hospital room and her breath catches in her throat. Her hand goes to her mouth and she feels her eyes fill with tears again.

"No." She whispers. He looks even worse than she imagined, with the oxygen mask on and the IVs hooked up to him.

When Vernon sees her, he gets up out of the chair next to the bed. She goes immediately to the side of the bed, taking Elvis's big, warm hand in her own. Then, she pushes his hair back off his forehead and feels his fever. He's so warm, it's scary. Her hands are cool, so she gently presses one to his cheek. She wants him to wake up, but he doesn't. Finally, she settles in the chair Vernon was sitting in. She lowers her head and presses a kiss on his hand and then holds it up to her face.

Wake up, Elvis. I'm here. Wake up.

She wills him to wake up, and somehow it's like he hears her. His eyes flutter open and she stands up, leaning over him again. He pulls the oxygen mask off his face. Jerry gestures to Vernon that they should give them the room. The two men walk out and leave Grace and Elvis alone.

"You're here."

"Of course I am." She smiles softly. "I promised I wouldn't disappear again."

He smiles weakly and tries to lift his hand to her face, but he can't. She grabs his hand and holds it, bringing it to her cheek for him. Then, she kisses the inside of his palm.

"What do you need? Can I get anything for you?" He shakes his head slightly.

"I just need you." He puts the oxygen mask back on and rubs his thumb over her cheek. She puts his hand back down and he drifts off to sleep again.

As soon as he's asleep, she uses a pay phone to call Paulette and get her on the first plane to Memphis. She'll need her to watch Wendy while she cares for Elvis. Luckily, there's a flight coming in around 2, just in time for her to be at the apartment when Wendy gets off the bus. She arranges with Jerry for a driver to pick her up from the airport and uses her work expense account to pay for the flight. Once Wendy and Paulette are squared away, she goes back to Elvis. She stays by his bedside for the rest of the day, not even leaving to eat lunch. He sleeps for most of the day, but every time he wakes up, he looks for her and she's quick to make sure he knows she's there.

At one point in the afternoon, the Colonel arrives to check on him. He's shocked to find Grace there and he's even more shocked to see how comfortable she seems by his side.

"Ms. Du-boys, surely you're not here collecting information for the book."

She whips her head around to him. Nothing could be further from her mind.

"Absolutely not. I'm just here for him."

"You two seem to have gotten close."

"We're... friends." She hesitates a little and she can tell the Colonel notices.

Evening comes and Grace, Jerry, Vernon, and the Colonel are all still there. A nurse comes in to tell them regular visiting hours are over.

"Only one of you can stay with him overnight." Jerry and Vernon both look at Grace. Again, the Colonel is surprised.

"I'll stay." She tries to say it with some authority since she's not his next of kin or anything, but the nurse doesn't seem to care.

She spends the night sitting in the chair leaned over asleep on the side of his bed.

******

At one point in the night, Elvis wakes up. Again he looks for Grace first. He's comforted to find her there, breathing softly, peacefully sleeping on the side of his bed. He lifts his hand and strokes her hair, which she's taken down to be more comfortable.

The moonlight streams in through the window, illuminating her features. She's so beautiful. His heart feels full and he prays that she never leaves. He's never felt this way about any woman in his life.

Before he goes back to sleep, he runs his fingers down her face gently, tracing her high cheekbones and the outline of her soft lips. Then, he drifts off more content than he's been in years.

******

Grace stays by Elvis's bedside for the next three days as he slowly comes back to health. She leaves only to check on Wendy and shower.

On the third day, the doctor comes in and tells them he can go home.

"It was touch and go for a bit, but he hit a real turning point on Monday. He'll be fine. He just needs to continue to rest for the next week or so. Does he have someone who can look after him at home?" Again, Vernon and Jerry look at Grace. This time Elvis does too. She had already planned on taking care of him, so she nods.

Wendy is safe with Paulette and when Grace tells her why she is going to be gone, Wendy smiles widely.

"Daddy needs you. It's okay." Grace rolls her eyes but doesn't correct her this time. She packs a suitcase and kisses Wendy on the head.

"I'll be back to check on you everyday."

"Take good care of Daddy." Grace shakes her head as she walks out the door. Where does that girl get her spunk?

******

Once Elvis is settled in his bed in pajamas that evening, Grace comes in to check on him. Part of him is shocked she agreed to stay with him while he recovers. He's starting to wonder if maybe she is feeling something close to what he's feeling.

"Do you need anything?" She says as she collects his dinner tray.

"Maybe some more water? Thank you, honey." When she comes back with the water, she sets it on the bedside table and starts to walk away. He grabs her hand.

"Hey, sit with me for a bit." He pats on the bedspread for her to sit down next to him. She positions herself on the edge of the bed, facing him.

"Did you need something else?" She's smiling softly.

"No I just wanted to talk to you." She relaxes a bit. He can tell she's a little nervous caring for him in his house.

"What should we talk about?" She laughs quietly. He looks over her T-shirt and jeans, searching for something to say. In reality, he just wants her to stay close to him.

"Would you like me to read to you?" He looks back up into her face, thankful for her suggestion.

"Yes, I would like that very much." He points her to a stack of books. She chooses one that happens to be a favorite of his and settles herself back onto the bed. As she begins to read, he watches her carefully. He loves the way she licks her lips as she turns the page and the piece of hair that's fallen out of her loose bun. If he had any kind of strength at all, he would reach out and touch her, but he's still weak from sickness. But if being sick is what it takes to keep her here, he hopes he's sick forever.

******

Grace does everything in her power not to lay down next to him on the bed as she reads. She wants to feel his closeness, not in a sexual way, but in a comforting way. The moment feels deeply intimate, but there's so much separation between them. And she still doesn't even know for sure if he would want that. She considers just asking him, straight out, but the thought that he might say no kills her. Better to just not know.

She reads for an hour or two with him listening intently before he finally gives in and goes to sleep. Or, at least, she thinks he's asleep, but when she closes the book and gets up to leave, she hears his voice softly behind her.

"Please stay."

"Elvis, it's late. I need to go to bed."

"Sleep here. Please." She looks at the bed skeptically. "It's a big bed. You don't even have to touch me. You know I'm too sick to try anything. Please?" She turns to leave. "Grace?"

"I'm getting my pajamas." She gives him a small smile and goes to the room where her suitcase is. Her heart is racing and she knows this is probably a bad idea, but she grabs her things and changes quickly. She's spent the last few nights with her head on the bed next to him anyway. How much different is this really?

******

When Grace comes back into the room in her pajamas, Elvis's heart skips a beat. He can't believe he asked her to sleep in the bed with him. He's not the kind of man to sleep in a bed with a woman before he spends time doing other things in the bed. But this is different. She's different.

She gets in the bed on the opposite side and lays down with a good bit of space between them.

"Thank you. For everything." He looks over at her. She scoots over closer to him until their arms are touching.

"Well the last thing I need is for Elvis Presley to stop breathing on my watch." He laughs and starts to cough. Instinctively, she rolls over and puts her hand on his chest. He stops coughing and puts his hand over hers. Then, he presses his lips to her forehead and whispers.

"Thank you."

They sleep this way for the next week and a half. And no matter how hard they try, they always wake up in the morning cuddled together in the middle of the bed.

******

Stay tuned! The next chapter should be a doozy!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @ashtag6887 @aliypop @your-nanas-house @dkayfixates @everythingelvispresley @xanatenshi @returntopresley @p0lksaladannie @deniseinmn @jaqueline19997 @that-hotdog @mykievolturi @18lkpeters @joshuntildawn13 @rjmartin11 @littlehoneyposts

Want to be added to the Taglist? Let me know! It's about to get 🌶️ spicy 🌶️ 😉

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

Ateez “You fall asleep on their shoulder”

Ateez Masterlist                                     Group Masterlist  

Ask: Hi,You falling asleep on ateez’s shoulder please~

Hongjoong: 

The couch in Eden’s studio was so soft, too soft truly. This was supposed to be a day where you learned more about what Hongjoong did behind the scenes but you found yourself dozing off instead. It wasn’t that you didn’t find it interesting, you did, the day was just horribly long and this experience did make you admire Hongjoong even more. You were just tired and you couldn’t imagine how Hongjoong felt doing this day and day out.

Your eyes drifted shut, your head gently falling onto Hongjoong’s shoulder as he explained something to Maddox. “and I was thinkin-ing- oh.” Hongjoong stuttered softly, feeling the weight of your head on his shoulder. It was cute and endearing, but he couldn’t help but laugh a little bit. Knowing you, you would be embarrassed if he didn’t wake you up so he gently shook you. Seeing your disoriented expression for a split moment before springing awake fully, acting like nothing happened. 

“Does my day bore you?.... Well I understand, we can leave early and get a good nights rest together.” 

Seonghwa: 

Your day was quite possibly one of the worst you had experienced in a very long time. Normally, you would simply go home and just drink a glass of wine and destress but today had reached new levels. You just wanted Seonghwa and found yourself at the dorms, explaining to him what happened while fighting tears. Once he saw how emotional you were, he ushered you to his room for privacy. 

“It’ll be okay.”  He cooed, stroking your hair as you sat next to him in bed. Seonghwa had been doing this for the last half an hour, after listening to your rant and giving advice. It was clear you were exhausted, your day having taken alot out of you. To say he was worried was an understatement, but he knew he couldn’t do much other than be there for you. He was truly only relieved seeing you were asleep, meaning that you were finally feeling more at peace. 

“If I could fight all the demons in the world for you, I would.” 

Yunho:

It wasn’t everyday you got to spend hours without break with Yunho and it wasn’t everyday you actually got the option to go and do something fun either. So when the opportunity presented itself to go running around an amusement park like crazy middle schoolers, you took it. Going on every ride, taking pictures everywhere and eating nearly every food item you could see. Needless to say, it was tiring while also being ridiculously fun. 

You were ridiculously comfortable in the car back home, his manager driving as you two sat in the backseat. You truly felt like kids again, your matching headbands on the tops of your heads. Yunho’s fingers toyed with yours, not noticing just how sleepy you were until your headband tickled his cheek and the weight of your head landed on his shoulder. With his free hand, he carefully took off your headband and fixed your hair. 

“Today was fun, baby. I want more days like this together.” 

Yeosang: 

Couch potato days were few and far between. While you both did have them, it wasn’t often though that you had them together. It was rare and so you wanted to make a good day out of it, junk food, skincare, dramas and maybe even some video games. You had spent the whole day having relaxed fun with him and now you could feel yourself crashing. 

“We can go to bed if you’re tired.” He remarked, catching you yawn as you turned on your next movie of the evening. “No, no, I’m not tired.” You lied, not wanting to waste a second you had with him and knowing the next day was back to your normal schedules. Yeosang knew you were lying but simply pulled you to lay against him. Though he severly underestimated just how tired you were, feeling you dead asleep on his shoulder within 15 minutes. Yeosang had to bite back a laugh, covering his mouth a carefully turning down the tv. 

“Next time just tell me, I don’t mind going to bed early.” 

San: 

His job consisted of a lot of waiting, waiting in cars, waiting for standby, waiting for your makeup to be done. It was a normal thing that San brought you along because he would hardly have time with you otherwise. You would play games, read, talk, make up for some lost time. 

Though this music video was proving longer to film that anticipated and you were both absolutely exhausted. He still needed to film though and while you were trying your hardest to keep him energized while waiting on the sidelines, you found yourself drifting off on his shoulder. “Baby, if you’re sleeping what am I supposed to do?” San asked, stroking your head and lifting it off of his shoulder. He made you look at him and you just pouting, him allowing your head to drop into his chest. “But Sannie I’m so tired.” You whined, shutting your eyes again. 

“It’s okay, You can go to sleep. I’ll wake you when it’s my turn.” 

Mingi: 

Mingi was your person, in every single way and if you ask him he would fight the world. Well right now, you just needed him to hold you. You needed his comfort, you needed him to feel better and Mingi was ready to do just that. Fingers laced with yours as your head rested on his shoulder. He was your pillar and today you needed that more than anything. 

He was speaking with you about random things, anything that came to mind to distract you. “And so in the show, the guy’s hair turned a flaming red when he got angry-” Mingi explained and you hummed in response, not having the energy anymore. Mingi understood that, the things he was saying weren’t important anyways only the way you felt was and it seemed like you were feeling better. He continued talking, explaining random things from his show only garnering no more response. Glancing down at his shoulder, he could see that you were entirely passed out which was a relief. 

“Todays bad day is gone now, get some rest and tomorrow will be better. I’ll personally make sure of it.” 

Wooyoung: 

While you had had a busy day, you didn’t want to cancel out on your plans to go out to dinner with Wooyoung and his friends. Over the years he had aquired so many friends and they were all important to him, so the evening was guaranteed to be a long one. Not that it bothered you, you were simply a little tired. 

You had enjoyed a great time with his friends, laughing, talking and eating good food. It was late but you were still drinking, Wooyoung’s arm having found it’s way around your shoulders while chatting away. You were starting to feel super drowsy, head fall onto his shoulder every few minutes. However you couldn’t fight it much longer, head fully falling onto his shoulder into a light sleep. “Is Y/N okay?” One of Wooyoung’s friends asked as Wooyoung laughed a little at you. He fixed some of your stray hairs gently and turned back to his friends. 

“Work’s been stressfull, so they’re a little tired. We should probably head home soon.” 

Jongho: 

Being clingy wasn’t something you normally did because you knew Jongho wasn’t the biggest fan of it. Though when you were tired you really couldn’t help yourself, it was like being drunk, your body acted before you could really think about it and Jongho could tell. Jongho, however didn’t mind. He often knew you better than you knew yourself and could tell that exhaustion was the main contributer to this. 

Your arms were wrapped tightly around his waist as he sat in the dorm living room, talking with some of the members about upcoming schedules. His arm was wrapped around you, hand tracing circles into your back and making your whole body feel warm and cozy. It would have been harder not to fall asleep, so you let your body go. Jongho knew you were drifting off, making him stutter as he spoke and look at you with a small smile. 

“If this was anyone else I would have shaken you awake, but I love you so I won’t.” 

[yeuheart]

2 minus 1

Synopsis: Matching the characters to the lyrics of 2 minus 1 by Seventeen | Featuring: Bachira Meguru, Itoshi Rin, Hiori Yo, Mikage Reo | CW: Breakups | Notes: I’ll probs do more of these types of things. (tags: @hiorisgf)

“I thought you were the one, didn’t need any other”

BACHIRA MEGURU was sitting with Isagi at a bar table near the windows at a cafe his mother recommended. He and Isagi were just hanging out as they normally do when they have free time. Inane chatter filling their bubbles as one goes after another to respond until their minds go blank trying to think of something they haven’t said yet to add to the inane chatter, until Isagi mentions how he’s holding up with the break up of you and him. He doesn’t say anything but start to fiddle with the crumpled straw wrapper, he wonders that too but there’s a thought that has been lingering in his head for far too long since the break up being the one that he thought you were the one, the one he was ought to grow old with. With you he didn’t need anyone else, it was you the one that made him feel special, you were there for him through everything and even promised you wouldn’t leave him, but it was a lie, a painful lie that would probably hinder his trust with another lover if he ever got one again.

“I’m super fine, I, I don’t need you anymore”

ITOSHI RIN was just about to get into his appointed position when he takes a glance at the crowds of people screaming, he unconsciously looks around for a certain person, the last person he wanted to see, you. Once he catches himself doing that he stops himself and reminds himself to just focus on the on match, but he finds himself getting distracted a bit too easily once he spots your face in the crowd during the match. He even gets the ball stolen away from him when he moves his attention to the stands where he was sure he caught a glance of your face. His teammates start to get annoyed when they notice how distracted he was getting, and immediately call him out on it. They even tell him that if he can’t focus he should just excuse himself from the match and have someone come in as a replacement for him (Isagi..). Once he finally gets his focus straight and finishes the match he heads to the locker room instead of celebrating with everyone else. As he’s walking there he beats himself up at his performance and takes notice how uncoordinated he’s been in his schedule every since you left, but he swears he doesn’t need you or anyone to get him back on track, but he does, he’s a wreck without you. He needs you.

“How can you be so fine”

MIKAGE REO recalls how it hasn’t even been a week after your breakup but he notices how you weren’t phased at all and kept going on like nothing happened. He wonders how you can be so fine when he’s a total wreck, he’s even plucking the bristles off his toothbrush. He’s just sitting there wondering whether he should go up to you and ask how you aren’t sad, but he remembers that you won’t even acknowledge him so it’s pointless to even ask. This was his fault in the first place he reminds himself, if he hadn’t said those things then this wouldn’t have happened.

“And every time I see you in my feed, I don’t feel anything anymore”

HIORI YO unlocks his phone and looks for the social media app he’s always on, once he finds it he opens the app with just a tap and starts scrolling through his feed, when he suddenly stops his finger from scrolling and notices a familiar face, it was you. It was a photo with you and your newfound lover striking cute poses. He stares at the picture and wonders if that would have been him in your lovers place if you guys hadn’t broken up, but he throws that thought away and starts scrolling again resisting the habit of liking the post. He even recounts his idea of pressing the not interested button just because he didn’t want to accidentally hit the like button on your post. Just as he scrolls past a post a voice calls out to him in hopes that he would give them some attention. He takes him attention away from his phone to look at the speaker beside him and tells them to let him charge his phone first.

[yellowkitkieran]

To Have and To Heal (Part 10)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 4.8k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Rain has never bothered you. It's part of the reason you don't mind living in London. Your family has never understood your love of gloomy weather, but once the clouds clear and the sun peeks out, it feels like a fresh start. 

The promise of a warm summer has hung in the air the past three days. Sunlight warmed your skin when you walked to work this morning, having skipped the train in favor of soaking up the first bits of sunshine. By lunch the skies had darkened and clouds hung low in the sky. At the final bell, children complained about how the weather betrayed them and decided to pour just as they finished up their lessons. 

The dreary weather means you have more students than normal in the gymnasium, with their parents calling last minute to request they be picked up instead of walking home in the storm. You flit from table to table, from desk to desk while you manage signing students out as parents arrive, tying shoes, and divvying up Legos to keep everyone happy. You aren't able to sit and catch your breath until your normal stragglers remain, each of whom are picked up one by one until only Atla remains. 

You glance out the rain streaked window as a clap of thunder sounds outside, shaking the pane with the force of it. Atla yelps, dropping her marker and leaving a hot pink streak through her drawing. Her head hangs in her hands before you're off your seat, clearly distraught at the sudden storm and the seemingly earth shattering sounds of nature.

"Oh, it's alright Attie," you soothe her, your instincts kicking in as you come over to comfort her. Her tiny frame is shaking like a leaf on a tree when you put an arm around her to tuck her to your side, swaying her gently. "Your papa will be here soon to pick you up, I'm sure. It's just a storm, there's nothing to be afraid of. It can't hurt you as long as you're with a grown up. And I'm here, so I promise to look after you."

"Please call pa," Atla whispers, needing more than you can provide her at that moment. A child asking for their parent isn't something you take offense to; mums and dads are their first line of defense when the world gets scary. 

"I'll give him a call," you promise. What you don't tell Atla is that you already tried calling Martin twenty minutes ago and he didn't pick up. You try again now with the same result, despite crossing your fingers and praying for the opposite. 

Thinking back to your date, Martin was terrified of the rain then. The terror in his voice then had confused you, but clearly has some deeper meaning.

It would make sense that he's waiting at home for it to let up, or might be caught in traffic somewhere? Either way, perhaps you can do him a favor and take Atla home for him. Martin's schedule is hectic as it is; doing this small favor for him may put a much needed smile on his face. 

"Atla, do you have a house key for papa house?" 

Atla nods against your chest, "ja. In my bag."

Perfect, it's like the universe is encouraging you. Smiling to yourself you pull out your phone and type up a message. 

Hey, it seems like you're running late and that's fine! I'll take Alta home for you, I know you're probably busy so I'll take that off your plate. The custodian wants to close down the gym, so I'll just pack up and hang out with Attie at yours until you get home :)

You don't get a response in the fifteen minutes it takes you to clean up your mess in the gymnasium. Figuring it's fine regardless, you grab Atla's backpack, take her hand and lead her to the office, instructing her to wait while you bring your car to the front. Once parked under the awning you get out and double check the car seat you've thankfully left in after your nephew's visit before bringing Atla out and getting her settled. 

"Ready to go see your papa?" You ask, smiling at her as you do up the buckle. 

"Ready," Atla murmurs, warily watching the rainwater drip off the building. Fears aren't genetic as far as you know. It's odd that both father and daughter don't care for storms, but you think nothing of it as you hop in the car and punch in Martin's address, having gotten it from Atla's emergency contact form at the school. 

A few songs into your Disney playlist, Atla seems to forget all about the rain as she sings along to her heart's content. You have half a mind to take a video to show Martin how she dances in the backseat but you know better and focus on the road instead. Conditions aren't terrible with the rain slowly beginning to break, thankfully, so you press the button on your steering wheel to answer your phone when it rings halfway into the drive. 

"Martin? Hey! I'm not sure if you saw my message but I'm almost-"

"Where is my daughter?" Martin cuts in with a voice harsher than rocks tumbling in a steel drum, loud and rough through the car speakers. "I'm at the school and she's not here. Where did you take her?" 

If you had known Martin would be this upset, you would've told the custodian to buzz off and waited for him. You hadn't expected him to react like you'd kidnapped her. 

Meeting Atla's wide, pleading eyes in the mirror, you understand a little about why she hates this weather- it's a learned behavior. So you smile at her and try your best to remain calm, making a scary situation less intimidating. "You're on speaker Mar, Atla is safe and sound with me. You can say hello if you want to."

Martin does a complete flip, his voice now sweet as honey as he addresses his daughter. "Attie, papa's gonna be right there to come get you, søta. Går det bra med deg?"

"Ja, papa. Jeg har det bra." Atla's words are shaky and broken, like she's struggling to force them past her trembling lips. You want nothing more than to throttle Martin for instilling such fear in his daughter when only minutes ago she had been having the time of her life.

"Jeg elsker deg, Atla. I'll only be a few minutes okay?" Martin switches again when he addresses you. "Take me off speaker."

You do as Martin asks and prop your phone between your shoulder and your ear, "Martin I don't understand, I'm sorry for just driving her but I sent you a message. I figured I'd just take this off your plate because you don't like driving in this weather-" 

"And there's a damn good reason I don't," Martin half growls. "Pull over right now and tell me where you are. Don't move another inch with my daughter in your car."

"Mar, I'm a fine driver." You laugh, half suspecting this is some sort of ill-thought out prank. "I'll have her home in ten minutes, safe and sound. Just meet me at yours?"

"Stop the damn car!" 

Martin's shout startles you into obeying. You pull over without hesitating, throwing on your hazard lights and putting the car in park. 

"Okay," you whisper, trying to keep yourself together for Atla's sake. "Alright, I've stopped. I'll send you my location and you can come grab her. I'm sorry Martin, I didn't mean to upset you." 

"You did a damn good job of upsetting me without meaning to then." You feel scolded, scorned and humiliated all at the same time, like some nasty cocktail of negativity. "You're lucky I don't call the school and have you placed under review."

Tears prick your eyes. Martin's cruelty has come out of left field and knocked you off balance. You won't cry in front of Atla though, not when she's already silently crying and shaking in her seat. 

"I really am sorry, Martin. I wouldn't have driven her if I had known."

"Whatever. I'll be there in ten minutes."

After Martin hangs up, you aren't sure what to do with yourself. Rain spatters the windshield as you stare out, occasionally cleared away by the automated wipers. An emptyness trickles in where adoration resided moments prior. 

That's not your Martin. Your Martin doesn't leverage his wealth and position to manipulate people. Maybe… you don't know him as well as you thought you did. You've seen it before, haven't you? Guy pretends to be perfect for a few dates, you finally agree to join him at his place after dinner and he turns out to be a total ass. In the beginning you thought you'd struck gold with Martin… it seems now that you were probably wrong.

God, what a fucking nightmare. 

You allow yourself a minute to feel, to be a normal human before you package your emotions into a box and shove them into a dusty corner of yourself. Atla needs you right now, you can't afford to break apart at the seams. 

You paste on a soft smile and turn around in your seat to face her. "Hey, I have an idea. Do you want to play a game?"

Atla sniffles and wipes her toddler sized fist across her eyes. "Sure. What game." Her voice is flat, wavering at the end. She tries to put on a brave face, though Atla is always safe with you. You make it your mission to get a smile out of her, distracting yourself from the dread twisting in your gut. 

"What about 'count the chickens?' I bet you'll love it!"

"There's no chickens here," Atla mumbles, though you can see her brain working as her blue eyes flit around the car. She's so much like her father then, trying to suss out your meaning with context clues before you can explain, that it makes your heart clench. 

"Not yet," you agree, "but when I do this…" You grab a small sandwich bag from the seat pocket in front of her. The paper chickens inside bounce when you shake the bag, and she smiles softly. 

"Count the chickens. I like chickens," Atla murmurs, her hands settling on top of the hardcover book you place in her lap to serve as a tray. It's a simple game you created to occupy your nephew on car rides that doubles as a learning tool, teaching them to count in one's, twos and fives.

"Blue chickens count as two, purple chickens count as one, and the chicken with the gold eyes is five, okay?" When Atla nods, you pour the small pieces onto the book and let her begin to sort. Her eyebrows slowly knit together as she tries to keep track in her head, occasionally stopping to use her fingers as she reaches the higher numbers. Together you lose track of time, adding and subtracting when you take the paper chickens away from her piles and move them around. 

Headlights flash behind your car. Atla barely notices the door open, but she does cry out when Martin abruptly takes away the makeshift tray and throws it to the seat next to her. 

"Pa! I was playing-"

"You can play later," Martin says, his voice a harsh grate on your eardrums. Gone is the soft, caring man you were slowly falling for. He is replaced by a hardened, unforgiving man who seems set to burst at the seams as he struggles to get Atla's buckles undone. You're too terrified of causing another outburst to offer any sort of help, not even as rain begins to soak the back of Martin's shirt to turn the bright Arsenal red a darker, ominous crimson. 

"Faen- these damn straps-" when Martin finally wretches Atla free, he quickly gathers his daughter in his arms and kisses the top of her head. He cradles her carefully to his chest, mumbling something in Norwegian to her while trying his best to shield her from the rain. 

"It's wet, pa." 

Atla's statement of the obvious finally spurs Martin into action. He leaves your car door wide open as he heads back to his Audi, so you get out to grab Atla's bag and close it behind you, carefully trailing in his footsteps. You maintain a safe distance, dreading another snap. 

"I love you," Martin murmurs to Atla once she's safely in his own car. "Papa loves you so so much." 

"I love you too papa," Atla answers. "Can we play count the chickens with Miss. Sunshine when we get home?" 

Martin goes rigid, as if remembering your presence for the first time. "Not today, søta. Maybe another time." It's a lie and you both know it. Martin clearly has no intention of fulfilling that offer. He straightens, closes the door, and turns to you. Water drips from the hair hanging in his eyes, splashing to the puddles at your feet. He's only a few inches taller than you but right now that difference feels like lightyears. Martin seems to tower over you. You've not thought of his broad shoulders and muscular build as intimidating until now, when the sheer bulk of him is staring you down.

"I- I'm sorry, Mar. I had no idea."

Martin's words are clipped when he speaks, "it says right in her file, there's only three people authorized to drive her and you aren't one of them. I know you aren't me, so is your name Charlotte Evers, Kieran Tierney, or did you not read that bit?"

"Of course I read it," you say, perplexed by how he's speaking to you, like you are a lowly peasant and he a king. "I just thought that it was fine because it was me-"

"Oh right, it's you so my instructions don't matter? It's you, little Miss. Sunshine, so the rules don't apply. You can just load kids up in your car and drop them off at home like some shuttle service, no permission slip or written consent needed!" It would be easy to blame Martin's anger on the weather if he didn't seem to hate you so thoroughly at that moment. The ire in his eyes has you shrinking, feeling impossibly small under the weight of his disappointment. 

"I don't understand," you murmur, ignoring the tears mixing with the rain on your cheeks. "We're dating, I-" Martin scoffs and your stomach flips. "I mean, I just thought I'd save you the trouble. I know you hate bad weather and I didn't think it would be an issue. I don't understand why it's blown up in my face like this?"

"No, you wouldn't understand. You didn't go through what we went through." Martin yanks open the driver's door, pausing with one foot inside. "Don't ever pull something like this again."

Stunned, confused, and hurt beyond words, you don't move as Martin clamors in and drives away. You conclude that Martin must be living in a movie- Martin's evil twin is who you just saw, not the man himself. Marcus would be his name, or maybe Matthew- but whoever that was, it wasn't the Martin that you know. 

You drive under the speed limit the rest of the way home. You operate on autopilot whilst getting ready for bed. Fresh pajamas from the drawer, hair pulled back while you wash your face, music low while you apply moisturizer. You jump each time you think you hear your phone vibrate. Of course, it's only a phantom. 

Rain patters your windows, reflecting the sorrow that's taken root in your soul. Your unease regarding Martin's anger festers like an infected wound. His words replay in your head, keeping you up late into the night. 

Martin doesn't message you, not once, before you fall into a fitful sleep plagued by golden chickens and flash floods.

*********

I'm sorry for last night. Can we talk?

I know I was out of line. Solskin, please. Let me apologize. 

You don't acknowledge Martin's messages on Thursday, sent early in the morning only a few minutes apart. Perhaps he feels guilty for how he treated you, which honestly he should. You won't allow someone to verbally push you around like he had, heat of the moment or not.

Will you come to my match on Saturday? I'll explain everything afterwards if you do. Please at least let me do that before you cut me out

When you don't reply, another comes Friday afternoon: I'm sorry. I know you can't see me but I'm on my knees trying to beg for your forgiveness. What do I need to do? Name your price, I'll do anything for five minutes of your time. Please just tell me you'll listen?

Okay… maybe you feel a touch bad for leaving Martin on read after that one. But your guilt is almost immediately wiped away by the reminder of how small and miserable you felt in Martin's presence that day in the rain. 

On Saturday, you've fully decided to stay home on the sofa and avoid the match before Martin messages you: there's a ticket waiting for you at the window. If you want to come. It's for my box, Attie will be there with her nanny, I'm sure they'd love the company.

Another message, an hour before kick off: please come. Please please please let me see you after the match, solskin.

You don't leave your house, because you're unsure how to feel about the Norwegian. After he blew up on you, do you truly trust him? Do you believe that it was a one off event, not something that will be repeated in the future? Yes, he'd seemed terrified, and that's excusable. But to wait this long to apologize, even if he's sent you three bouquets of flowers and a heap of chocolates in the meantime, doesn't negate how you felt that night. 

When noon rolls around, you debate switching on the Arsenal vs. Chelsea match just to see if Martin is off his game or not. You don't of course, because you respect yourself far too much to do so. You reorganize your bookshelves instead, giving your main room a much needed face-lift. 

A few hours later, you're still restless. Your fingers itch with the need to grab your phone and check the score or see if a certain someone has messaged you. The willpower it takes to leave the device facedown on the counter amazes you. You don't glance at it once until you've exhausted your energy with a deep clean of your kitchen, going so far as to scrub around your phone without moving it.

Once you've collapsed into bed, you fold. As you scroll through your feed, news of the match is unavoidable. Martin played terribly, leaving Arsenal fans up in arms over their captain's shoddy performance. 

Good, he deserved it. 

Guilt wracks through your bones as soon as the thought crosses your mind. Yes, Martin had been cruel, but that doesn't mean he deserves your cruelty in return. You find yourself lost down a rabbit hole, clicking article after article regarding the day's outcome. With each one the dread in your gut grows until it's a physical thing, twisting your stomach into knots and leaving you feeling ill. 

Finally, you find the strength to tear your eyes from the traitorous screen that almost has you feeling sorry for Martin. Almost, until you remember what he'd said and the malice that had lined his normally gorgeous features. 

Deal with it on Wednesday, that's your solution. As you eyes close and you drift off to sleep, you resolve to leave it alone until then, when you cannot avoid Martin any longer.

**********

Tardiness is becoming somewhat of a habit of Martin's, you're discovering. Atla is oblivious, like always, unperturbed by the lack of her peers as they are picked up by parents and guardians, one by one, until she is the only one left in the gymnasium. 

You peek outside and note the dots of precipitation on the sidewalk. That all too familiar dread begins to build, gaining momentum as rain patters lightly on the grass, though you quell it before it raises into a tidal wave. 

You've learned your lesson. You won't be leaving this building until Martin himself shows his face. 

The bright pearl of Atla's voice from behind you tears your attention from the dreary weather and the memories it carries. "Miss Sunshine, will you play a game with me?" 

You let the heavy door close, locking out any and all discomfort from your mind. "Of course I will, what do you want to play?"

Atla holds up a deck of cards that you know is printed with different pairs of animals. "Go fish? I like that one."

"Go ahead and deal the cards, do you remember how I showed you last week?" When Atla nods, you smile and twist your limbs to join her at the plastic, toddler sized picnic table she has chosen to sit at. With marker-stained hands, Atla fumbles through the cards until she has made two haphazard piles of five each, then lays the remainder of the stack face down between you. She fans the cards out in her hands so she can see them all, her tint tongue poking out in concentration as she struggles to hold them all at once. 

"Do you have a puppy?" Atla asks, and frowns when you shake your head. She draws a card, adds it to her hand, and waits expectantly for your inquiry. 

"Do you have… a yellow fish?"

"Uh-uh."

"Orange monkey?" 

"Yes, here you go. Ask another."

"Umm… green tiger?"

You go back and forth for three rounds of the game, temporarily distracted from the storm raging inside you. It's unfair of Martin to expect you to wait here, like he's some sort of king. Does he think the world revolves around him and him only? As the minutes tick by, your frustration with the man grows. 

Atla gets precious little time with her father. The longer he leaves her here with you, the less time she has to spend with quite possibly her favorite person on earth. Martin should know better; he should be on time, or at least have the decency to let you know when he'll be late. 

"How about-"

You're cut off by a light, nervous cough off to your left. Atla drops her cards immediately, clumsily clamoring from the picnic table to run to her father. At least, that's who you assume it is- you don't deign to spare the new arrival a single glance.

"Papa!" Suspicions confirmed, then. "I missed you- what's for dinner? Can we get McDonald's?"

"We can get whatever you like, søta." You hate the low, loving timber of Martin's voice at that moment. Why can't he be as terrible as the man you've molded him into in your head? It would be easier to get over him and move on if he were. "Do papa a favor, can you help Miss. Sunshine clean up all the balls in the gym? Papa needs to talk to her for a minute."

"Okay- are those for her? She likes sunflowers," Atla notes, and you sigh internally. If Martin thinks another bunch of flowers will smooth things over, you're about to prove him wrong. You cannot be won over with material gifts, not after what he'd done.

A pair of black Adidas hedge into your vision. You keep your eyes trained on the yellow-tinged wooden floor, tracing the lines of the indoor football pitch rather than acknowledge him. Martin shifts his weight from foot to foot, possibly expecting an invitation to sit or a greeting- neither of which you offer him. Perhaps it's childish to do so; if it is, you'll blame your profession but make no effort to correct the behavior. 

"Hello," Martin offers carefully, "can I join you?" You leave him standing there, waiting for your answer with baited breath. Every nerve and muscle in your body screams at you to loosen your jaw and let the affirmation slip, but your pride refuses to let Martin win so easily. So you make him work for it, wait for that slight tinge of embarrassed blush to appear on the apples of his cheeks before you sigh and flourish a bored hand. 

"I guess," you mumble, doing your best to ignore the way Martin immediately jumps at the opportunity. It takes him three tries to properly fit his toned calves and muscled thighs under the low plastic table, and you hate that you notice that. You ignore the flowers wrapped in brown paper that now sit between you, a spot of sunshine in the otherwise gloomy atmosphere. "What do you want?"

"I want to properly apologize. But I can't do that if you won't look at me." The glint off the face of Martin's expensive watch catches your eye as he extends his fingers to graze the back of your hand. You try and fail to quench the sparks that fizzle over your skin at the simple touch. You've missed him- not that you'll admit it in a million years. 

You shouldn't look up. Because if you do, you know you'll melt the second you see any hint of sadness in the oceans of blue you've come to love in such a short time. You're terrified to see Martin's downturned lips, the same lips that have clouded your mind for weeks. To kiss them would be-

No. No, you won't go down that path. 

But you do fold in the sense that you find your eyes betraying your brain, slowly cataloging him from the chest up until you finally reach his own eyes. They soften, that beautiful blue now a muted, cloudy gray. 

"Hey," is Martin's croaked attempt at diffusing the tension. It crackles in the air like static before a lightning strike, heavy and full. 

"You wanted to apologize." Your counter is dull and flat, lacking any of the hope that Martin's syllable carried with it. 

"I do. And I know these flowers aren't enough to make up for it, but I wanted you to have them anyway. Did you get the others that I-"

"Yes," you interrupt, not wanting the reminder. 

"Oh." Martin fiddles with the paper wrapping, tearing small bits of it away to twist in his fingers. "Well- I'm sorry for how I acted last week. I panicked and I had to protect Atla, and I know I can never say anything to make it right but I truly am sorry. I've felt terrible the entire week."

"Are you going to tell me why?" 

Martin's brow furrows. "Why I felt terrible? Because-"

"No, that's not what I meant." You sigh, pressing the thumb of your right hand into the palm of your left. "I mean, are you going to tell me why you hate rain so much?"

Martin goes quiet, as if the question blindsides him. He seems to forget you then, staring off into space. His face twists with some forlorn memory, staring down a myriad of emotions until he finally murmurs, "not here." 

It's the softness of the words that catches you off guard. They're spoken around shards of glass that shred at his throat as they claw free. There is so much more he leaves unspoken, strung between you on the thin thread of a silent promise of another time, another place. 

The pain in Martin's delicate, angelic features gives you pause as well, your heart aching for him despite your desire to remain scorned. You can't hang him out in the cold, not when he looks like he may fall apart at any second. You're nearly overcome with the need to reach out and touch him, to pull him in for a hug and not let go until he's found his happiness again. 

"Okay," you whisper, tipping your head to put yourself in Martin's line of sight. When his eyes focus, you offer him a reassuring quirk of your lips and damn yourself in the process. 

"I could cook dinner? Tomorrow night- Kieran wants to take Atla to see a film anyway, so she'll be occupied. I can explain then?"

"That sounds fine, Mar. I'll give you one more chance, alright? Just the one."

You simply can't say no to Martin Ødegaard. 

"I promise I won't mess up."

[kunikinnie]

hello! could i request a reader that clings onto kunikida when they feel insecure? like after a bad day they just tackle kunikida out of the blue and wrap their arms around him HAHSHA idk i just really want kunikida to comfort me

thank you if you decide to write it!! but don't pressure yourself into doing it if you don't want to :) thank you again in advance huhu

a/n: hi! i tried to finish this asap since it feels a little urgent but it still took wayy longer than anticipated :') thank you for your patience!

Your sudden but no-longer-surprising cuddles were one of the spontaneous things that Kunikida loved. Despite his seeming nonchalance (and even annoyance at times), every embrace meant so much to him. He'd let you cling onto him even if he was shuffling through papers or revising his schedule; how could he ever deny affection from you?

But this time was different. Your arms were snaked around his waist and locked so tightly that he thought he'd be forced to sit like this on a bed all night. From that alone he knew something was up. However, once he felt the slightest shiver in your grasp, it was all but confirmed.

"What's wrong, Y/N?"

"It's nothing. Let's just stay like this... please."

Was it really nothing? Usually he'd simply obey without question, but now was different. Unable to shift his focus back to whatever the heck he was doing, he put aside his notebook and slid down until your faces were nearly touching.

"It's not okay," he said in a voice that softened as much as his eyes. "You know you can tell me, Y/N."

You knew that. You knew that well. But now that you're facing him like this, you weren't sure if you could bring yourself to be honest.

"It's something stupid. I-I don't-"

"If you're affected by it then it's not stupid."

Your troubled eyes hesitated to meet his, afraid that all they'd see would be exhaustion from the day's ordeals. It was unfortunately a common sight, and the last thing you wanted to do was add to that in any way.

Instead, you were met with such tender concern that it felt impossible not to give in.

"Of course, if you don't want to talk about it then it's fine," Kunikida added as he gently pulled you in for a tighter embrace. "I just don't want the weight of it all to crush you."

Funny thing is you were the one who said those exact words to him - in a different context, in a different light. Not once did you think it would ever apply to you. Yet here you were, just about to fall for those words the way he did back then.

Your thoughts flowed out much more smoothly than you expected. The doubts, the insecurities - everything. And he simply lay there patiently by your side, not letting go for even a moment.

"...so that's what's been bothering you?"

"I told you it's stupid," you repeated but with less than half the force from earlier. "Especially since you already showed me that portion in your notebook before... I don't want to discredit you or anything. It's really just... ugh."

You were referring to the few pages dedicated to you in his notebook. Things he loved about you, things he wanted to remember about you, etc. It nearly made you cry the first time he showed it to you.

As expected, he stiffened when you mentioned it. Agh. Maybe you shouldn't have brought it up-

"I suppose there's no choice, then."

Kunikida stood up and left the bedroom for a bit, leaving you wondering what he was doing. His trusty ideals were right on the nightstand, so why did he leave?

It didn't take long before he returned with a different notebook. It was larger and of a different type from what he normally used.

"I remember the night you read those original pages," he said calmly. "With how much you cried, there were so many splotches on the pages that I told myself I had to rewrite them."

Your cheeks turned pink at the memory. Alright. Yes. You didn't just nearly cry that night.

"I was going to continue them on the next pages of the ideals book, but there wasn't enough space. I was wrong to consider that in the first place, though. A few pages would never be enough."

He handed you the new journal with no hesitation this time. You quickly scanned the pages, overwhelmed by what and how much was written in it. It was basically an expanded version of that portion of his notebook and so much more.

Finally, you landed on the very first page - which really should have been the first thing you read - which made your watery eyes widen even further.

On it was a picture of you smiling, and below it was written: "Keeping Y/N Happy."

"I-I guess it's a bit, uh, what do you call it..." his face was turning red yet he did his best to maintain his composure. He cleared his throat before he spoke once more. "But seriously, the purpose of that is exactly as it's written there. If you want, there's an activities section that you can read and choose from - we can do that tomorrow."

You silently followed his suggestion while Kunikida, unable to contain his own emotions, continued.

"You may doubt yourself sometimes, and that's normal. You may even doubt me when I say that I genuinely trust you and your capabilities - and again, that's normal. The important thing is that you don't let it take over. That's why that," he pointed to the notebook in your hands," exists. To dispel the many uncertainties you may have with the few certainties that you do have. One of them being my love for you."

He gently took your hand and squeezed it firmly. His hands were cold.

"I love you, Y/N. I'll never get tired of reminding you that. If you need help with anything I'll find a way - we'll find a way. So trust me, okay?"

...what was the point of holding it in anymore?

You immediately wrapped your arms around him once more (after putting away the notebook gently, of course). The suddenness took him by surprise, but Kunikida quickly returned the gesture and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"I love you too," you said between sobs. "Thank you so, so much. Sorry for making your shirt wet."

"It's fine."

"Also sorry for making your other notebook wet. I won't do it again, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," he replied lightheartedly. He wouldn't mind if you did get them wet unintentiona-

"On second thought," flashbacks from previous incidents of 'unintentional' water spillage suddenly stung him. "Make that promise. Please."

taglist: @stygianoir, @requiem626k , @irethepotato, @kisara-16reblogs, @thatdazaikin, @dazaee, @menshusband, @celestair, @bloobewy, @renaxnnas

[lucy90712]

Pedri- Hurt

A/n: my requests are open so feel free to send me more requests.

wc: 1900+

Playing football professionally is great especially when you are at the top of your game but it's also a lot of pressure as you have to stay in peak physical condition and perform every match. I have been very lucky with these things so far as I haven't really had any big injuries and have managed to work hard and work my way to the Barcelona womens team. To start with it was incredibly stressful and I was just really overwhelmed but then I met my boyfriend Pedri and he really helped me become more confident in my ability and I've not looked back since.

With Pedri also being part of Barcelona we often get to go to training together but usually we aren't able to watch each other play as our matches are at different times and in different places but this weekend our schedules aligned and so Pedri is coming with me to my match. Knowing that he's going to be there has had me even more motivated than usual in training as I love to show him what I can do even though he already knows. When we go to each other's matches we are allowed to travel together as we are both part of the team which I love as I really hate flying so having someone to distract me helps. Pedri is really good at distracting me in general as before a match he will have me laughing instead of sitting in a corner panicking which is quite a feat as usually no one can stop my pre match panic.

Luckily this match wasn't too far so the flight wasn't too long but I still spent the entirety of the flight cuddled up to Pedri while we watched part of a movie. We watched the rest of the movie while on the bus from the airport which is normally when I start to get nervous but today I was still quite relaxed and that's all because I had Pedri with me. Once we had arrived there was still quite a while before the game so we had a lot of time to kill which pretty much always means just laying down together as it's relaxing and means we aren't doing anything that uses too much energy. To keep my brain focused on something other than the match Pedri put on our favourite show as he knows that I'll pay attention to that.

After doing nothing for a few hours it was time for us to head to the stadium but first I had to do my hair as I always find it hard to do when I'm nervous as my hands just don't want to work. I had already changed into the clothes we are supposed to wear into the stadium and was standing in front of the full length mirror trying to braid my hair as that's how I usually wear it during a match. Usually I'm very good at doing my hair as I've been doing it for years but for some reason I was really struggling to get it right today. Pedri watched me do the same part over and over again until he had clearly had enough as he got up and stopped me doing my hair before taking over. I just watched him in awe as I didn't think he would be any good at hair but he did it better than I do sometimes. Once he was done we headed down but along the way I had to ask how he knew what to do and he just told me that he's watched me enough that's he's learnt.

When we reached the stadium Pedri had to leave but I knew I'd get to see him before I go out on the pitch which made me feel a bit better. Like usual we did a warm up as a team before properly getting ready which is when my nerves really started to kick in and I took myself off to a corner like usual to try and calm down. My methods didn't work too well but eventually we left the locker room and Pedri was waiting for me right outside so I went straight over to him and he pulled me into a hug. He held on for a little while before pulling away and letting his hands on my cheeks to get me to look in his eyes.

"You got this love go show them what you're made of" he said

"I will" I replied smiling

"Go on I'll be cheering for you in the stands" he said giving me one last kiss and then left to go and sit down

We got out onto the pitch and before I knew it the game had started but I quickly got into the game and was completely focused on looking for space to run into or who to pass to. My methods seem to work pretty well usually and today they seem to be doing the same as after 20 minutes I got the ball and ended up running all the way to the goal and scoring. When I scored I searched for Pedri in the crowd and when I noticed him he was smiling ear to ear and gave me a thumbs up which filled me with even more motivation. Just after half time it happened again there was a whole lot going on but I got given the ball and had no one else to pass it to so I just went for it and the ball went right past the goalkeeper and into the back of the net. This time I decided to do Pedri's usual celebration seeing as he was watching and plus it will give people something to talk about after the game.

Things were going well after I scored as I got the ball again and was making a run but then I was tackled and the other player completely missed the ball hitting my ankle instead. I heard a pop followed my a sharp pain going from my heel all the way up my leg. Right away I knew it was something serious as I've never felt so much pain in my life especially when I tried to move my ankle it was excruciating. I hate crying about injuries while on the pitch but this time I couldn't help it but I covered my face instead so now one could see. The medics were quickly by my side and asking me where my pain was and trying to assess me. They quickly worked out that I was not going to be able to continue so they helped me get up and walk off the pitch and straight down the tunnel to the physio room so I could have my injury assessed to know the extent of it.

I was laying there on my own for a while until I heard the door open so I looked up to see that it was Pedri not the physio. I tried to offer him a smile but I think it was pretty obvious that I wasn't actually happy and really was in a lot of pain. He came and stood by my side taking hold of my hand and rubbing it gently while he leant down to give me a kiss. With both of us being footballers he knows exactly what it's like to be injured and be worrying about if and when you'll be able to play again so he didn't bother asking me if I was alright because he knew the answer would be no. Instead he just sat by my side and had the game on his phone so I could still see what was going on which I appreciated as it distracted me for the pain.

Eventually the physio came in and did all the usual checks on my ankle as well as some other things before telling me that I'd been very lucky as I'd had a few tears in different muscles but my achilles tendon was ok so my recovery will likely be a few weeks instead of a few months. As much as it was nice to know that my injury wasn't as bad as it could be it didn't make the pain I'm feeling right now any better which is what was taking over most of my thoughts. Sadly the physio didn't do anything other than strap my foot up and give me some crutches so as soon as they left I tried to get up so that me and Pedri could go and get some painkillers.

Just as I was about to grab my crutches Pedri stopped me and instead picked me up bridal style so that I didn't have to walk at all. He first carried me to the locker room so I could get my things and see my team as the match was over now and we had won 2-1. When everyone was ready to go he carried me to the bus which was taking us back to the hotel so we could then go back to the airport and fly back home. Once we reached the hotel Pedri left me to pack while he ran and got some painkillers for me so that I could be at least a little more comfortable on the flight back. The entire flight and then drive back home Pedri kept checking that I was ok and if I needed anything and even when I said that I was fine he still melt an eye in me to make sure I wasn't lying.

When we finally got back home I was exhausted but there was still so many things I had to do before going to bed I mean I didn't even shower after the game so that's definitely top of my priority list. Once we got inside I finally got hold of my crutches and used them to make my way up the stairs to the bathroom which was difficult but I eventually made it only for Pedri to join me in less than a second and rush past me to turn the shower on for me. He helped me get ready and then left me to shower by myself but when I came out he had set clothes out ready for me which made me smile as it was some shorts and one of his hoodies which he wore the other day so I knew it would smell like him.

Once I had changed Pedri came back in the room with some food for the both of us which we ate in bed while watching my favourite film which I have seen a million times but I still love watching. After eating Pedri took the plates back to the kitchen but quickly came back and got into bed with me pulling me close to him straight away so naturally I rested my head on his chest so that I could listen to his heartbeat as I find it calming. We laid there in silence as he stroked my hair and I listened to the calming rhythm of his heartbeat for a while before I began to drift off to sleep so Pedri kissed my cheek and started to whisper in my ear.

“Goodnight my love” he whispered

“Goodnight oh and thank you for taking care of me” I whispered back

“No need to thank me I’ll be taking care of you until you are ready to get back to training anyway” he said

“Thank you” I said just loud enough for him to hear before I let sleep consume me  

[c-e-d-dreamer]

And They Were Roommates, OMG, They Were Roommates: Part Nine

A/N: I know I just posted a drabble, but y’all didn’t think I forgot about my regular posting schedule, did you? ;) I hope everyone enjoys! This chapter features the ending everyone has been waiting for. 

Chapter Masterlist // Previous Part // Next Part

They don’t talk about the kiss.

Or more like Nesta doesn’t talk about the kiss. Not even a mention of it. She goes about her days like it never even happened, like nothing has changed between them and everything is normal. Cassian might be going a bit insane from it all. Because if there’s one thing that Cassian can’t stop thinking about, it’s kissing Nesta.

It feels like every minute of every day, kissing Nesta is quite literally all that he can think about. When he’s making breakfast, he’s remembering how soft and warm Nesta’s skin was beneath his palms as he cradled her face. While he’s sitting at work, he’s thinking about how Nesta’s eyes had looked so blue so close, how they’d fluttered closed when he closed the breadth of space between them. He goes for a jog or to the gym, and his mind replays the way Nesta’s lips felt pressed so sweetly against his. And late at night, when he’s lying alone in bed, all he can focus on is how Nesta had tasted.

“Cassian.”

Cassian blinks back to reality with a start, and he winces when he realizes the french toast he’s cooking is definitely more charred than he’d prefer. With a soft sigh, he scoops the toast up and tosses it in the trash, deciding to start fresh with a new slice.

“Are you alright?” Nesta asks from where she’s sitting on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

“Yeah,” Cassian dismisses with a shrug. “Just tired.”

Nesta doesn't bring up their kiss, so Cassian doesn't dare to either. He's terrified once he starts, he won't be able to stop, that the dam around his heart will give way and all of his feelings will spill forward in a tidal wave. He doesn't want to break this peace between him and Nesta, doesn't want to ruin what they do have. He values Nesta, values having her in his life, having her as a friend. Even if it’s always just as a friend.

“Are you going to be alright to drive?” Nesta continues, picking up her fork and digging in once Cassian sets a plate in front of her.

“All I need is a cup of coffee, and I’ll be fine.”

Nesta narrows her eyes at him, her lips pursing slightly, and Cassian knows that she doesn’t believe him for a moment. They know how to read each other too well. But he plasters on his best, easy smile anyways, pointedly raising his coffee mug to his mouth and taking a sip. He can’t decide if he wants her to ask or not, wants her to dig and pry until everything including his bloodied and bruised heart is splayed out on the kitchen counter, all hers for the taking.

Instead, with a shrug of her own, Nesta goes back to her breakfast, and that’s the end of that.

Once they’re both finished, Cassian and Nesta retreat back to their rooms to change. Cassian pulls open a drawer and grabs the first pair of swim trunks on top before an idea comes to him, taking grip in his mind until he can’t shake it. He knows it’s probably a bit petty of him, but he digs around until his fingers close around the red fabric that he’s looking for.

He makes quick work of changing into the swim trunks and tugging his hair back into a bun away from his face. He grabs a cotton button down to toss on as well, opting to keep it undone and show off his chest to complete the look. He steps over to the mirror, taking in the red fabric sitting low on his hips, the hemline hitting high on his thighs, the way his tattoos look where his shirt is open. One last smirk, and Cassian grabs his sunglasses and shoes, heading back out of his room.

Nesta’s still in her room, so Cassian gets to work packing up a cooler, adding some waters and the beers he had bought earlier in the week. He’s just finishing up when he hears Nesta’s door open, and Cassian turns just in time to see Nesta stepping out, still tugging on a cover-up dress over her own swimsuit. Cassian has to send a silent prayer up to the Mother that they’re still at home because there’s no hiding his expression and he knows his family would never let him hear the end of it.

He’s not sure anyone can really blame him, though. How can anyone expect his mouth not to dry up, for all thoughts not to eddy out of his mind seeing Nesta in a bikini. As if the miles of skin on display aren’t enough, the swimsuit is a bright red, practically a match for his own. He knows it’s unintentional, that it doesn’t mean anything, but that doesn’t stop something deep in his chest purring at the fact nonetheless.

“Do you have a towel?” Nesta asks, seemingly oblivious to the fact Cassian has stopped breathing. “You can throw it in my bag.”

Nesta finally looks up properly then, her eyes sweeping over Cassian. His skin prickles and flushes with the caress of her gaze, and Cassian clears his throat, quickly moving away. He grabs his towel and rolls it up, holding it out for Nesta to take, but she just stands there, her beach tote half opened against her shoulder. Staring at him. Blinking at him and his outstretched hand. Cassian is about to ask Nesta if she’s alright, but wherever her mind had gone, she jolts back to the present and snatches the towel, stuffing it into her bag and turning away from him.

“I have my book and sunscreen as well,” Nesta continues, already heading for the front door. “Do we need anything else?”

Cassian blinks a few times at the sudden change, but he hauls the cooler up and into his arms, following behind her. “Elain and Mor were in charge of snacks, so we should be all set.”

Nodding, Nesta yanks open the door, and they head down to Cassian’s truck. He loads the cooler into the back bed while Nesta hops into the passenger seat before sliding into the driver’s seat and turning the ignition. The drive to the shore is a bit long but straightforward once Cassian turns onto the highway. Nesta spends the first part of the drive furiously texting away on her phone, and when Cassian chances a glance toward her, she has her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and Cassian swears there’s a hint of a blush coloring her cheeks. He considers asking, but he knows Nesta will tell him if she wants, when she’s ready, so instead he leans forward and turns on the radio.

A sigh to his right has Cassian glancing over again, and this time, Nesta has put away her phone, her head resting on her hand as she stares out the window. Cassian can’t quite see her face, but it’s clear whatever is on her mind is still eating at her, and his hands flex on the steering wheel as he tries to bite his own tongue.

“Nes?” Cassian finally voices, unable to hold back anymore. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Nesta dismisses, sitting up straighter in her seat. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Just know that you can always talk to me. If you want.”

“I know.”

Silence settles between them again, but Nesta leans forward in her seat, turning the radio station until she’s satisfied. It takes a few moments, but Cassian recognizes the chords, the voice pouring from the speakers. He lets out a groan.

“Seriously?” Cassian asks in a deadpan voice. “This is the song you’re going with?”

“Need I remind you that you like Taylor Swift?”

“Exactly, let’s find that.”

Cassian reaches forward to change the station, but Nesta’s hand snaps out too, fingers curling around his palm and trying to hold him back. He uses his strength to pull his hand free, but Nesta just latches both hands around his wrist instead, nails digging in slightly in her effort to stop him. It takes some wiggling and Cassian practically dragging Nesta with him, but his fingers close around the radio knob.

It doesn’t take long to find a station playing Taylor Swift, and for extra good measure, Cassian turns up the volume too. Nesta groans as she releases her hold and settles back into her seat, but Cassian just rolls down the windows. He shouts along to the lyrics until Nesta’s laugh becomes the real summer breeze floating through the cab of the truck, settling a warmth between Cassian’s ribs and releasing all his tensions and worries.

The parking when they arrive at the beach is a bit slim, but luckily, there’s still a couple spots available. Cassian is about to pull into the first one he sees, but Nesta calls out for him to stop, instructing him to park at a spot further down. Cassian is confused by the change until a man steps out of the car next to them and he catches sight of red hair.

Thankfully, Nesta’s attention is on hopping out of his truck, so she doesn’t see the way Cassian rolls his eyes. He takes a moment to breathe and reign back in his own emotions, reminding himself once again that Nesta is happy, that all that matters is that Nesta is happy. With that, Cassian slips out of his truck, walking around to the truck bed and pulling down the cooler and the two chairs he’d stored back there.

“Nes,” Cassian calls out, holding out one of the chairs for her to take.

Nesta steps over to take the chair, but Eris trails just behind her, and he watches Cassian with slightly narrowed eyes. Cassian wants to snap at him, wants to ask what he’s staring at, maybe even make a snarky remark about the man’s designer swim trunks, but he knows Nesta wouldn’t appreciate it, so he focuses on shouldering his own chair and balancing the cooler in his hands.

“You know she hates when people call her that, right?” Eris finally speaks, his tone dripping with that quiet condescension that Cassian knows is all too familiar from people like him. “It’s just Nesta.”

Cassian can’t help but snort at that, as if Nesta hadn’t given up the fight against his nicknames for her years ago. A crueler, hidden part of him practically preens at Eris’ comment, though. At the knowledge that Nesta told her boyfriend not to call her that, that the nickname is for Cassian only, some secret held just between them.

“He doesn’t care,” Nesta explains with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Eris still looks unimpressed, his gaze almost dubious as his eyes dart back and forth between Cassian and Nesta, but he doesn’t say anything more. The three of them make their way down to the beach, finding where their family and friends have already arrived and set up a makeshift homebase in the sand.

Cassian sets the cooler down under the umbrella and sets up his chair, relaxing back into it. It’s certainly a gorgeous, end of summer day, the sky blue and clear and the afternoon sun bouncing off the water. Even over the crashing of the waves, Cassian hears Nesta’s laugh, and when he turns to look, he finds Nesta sat in the sand in front of Eris, the redhead rubbing sunscreen into her shoulders and back.

Cassian’s jaw clenches at the sight, at the way Nesta smiles over her shoulder at her boyfriend. His grip tightens on the arm rests of his chair, and he spins back around, staring resolutely at the sand between his toes. There’s a soft sigh to his right, and Cassian glances over just in time to watch Azriel take a seat beside. The look his brother settles him with is full of quiet sympathy, and it prickles at Cassian’s chest.

“Don’t,” Cassian mutters, taking the beer that Azriel holds out for him.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Azriel assures him, raising his own beer to his lips and taking a sip. “Except perhaps to comment on your swim trunks. Couldn’t find anything shorter?”

“This is what the ladies like, Az.”

“Some of us don’t have to resort to showing so much leg.”

“Yeah, because he already has a girlfriend,” Mor pipes up, settling in the sand on Cassian’s other side.

“You still can’t prove that,” Azriel dismisses, but Cassian swears he sees a smirk before his brother hides behind another sip of his beer.

“I will figure out who the mysterious redhead is,” Mor assures him, pointing an accusing finger.

“Maybe I was getting brunch with Lucien.”

At the sound of his name, the man in question raises his head from where he was lounging on a towel, but before he can answer, Elain is giggling and agreeing, “Lucien is a hot commodity.”

Elain and Lucien go back to their sunbathing after that, Mor and Azriel continuing their bickering even as they go to challenge Rhys and Feyre in a game of paddleball. For once, Cassian is left feeling alone sitting there. He chances another glance over his shoulder, but Nesta and Eris are deep in some, quiet conversation. With a soft sigh, Cassian decides to go join the paddleball game, deciding he can heckle his brothers and root for Mor and Feyre.

When the five of them return, ready to dig into the snacks and drinks after a very competitive match, Nesta has moved to spread her towel out beside Cassian’s chair. She’s sprawled out on her stomach, her book held delicately between her hands, and Cassian tries to subtly trace the lines of her curves and limbs as he settles in his seat. Worrying about being caught slips from Cassian’s mind, though, when he takes in the slight pink tinge to Nesta’s skin.

“Nes,” Cassian starts to get her attention.

Nesta hums in reply to let him know she heard, but she doesn’t turn toward him, doesn’t tear her eyes away from the words she’s currently devouring.

“Your shoulders are starting to burn,” Cassian points out. “You need to reapply your sunscreen.”

“I will,” Nesta assures him dismissively, but Cassian knows better.

He knows that trying to tear Nesta away from her book is like pulling nails from wood. Crooked nails from wood. He knows that one more page always becomes just the end of the chapter which becomes five more chapters. How many times has he seen her bedroom light still on well into the middle of the night? With a shake of his head, Cassian reaches into the little tote Nesta had packed and brought. He finds the bottle of sunscreen and pulls it out, squirting some into his palm before kneeling beside Nesta’s towel. She turns to scowl at him over her shoulder as soon as his hands brush her skin, but Cassian is unperturbed.

“You’ll thank me later, sweetheart,” Cassian reminds her with a wink before turning a grin toward Eris, the redhead watching them curiously, putting on his best teasing tone as he explains, “it’s impossible for her to put down a book, am I right?”

“It’s just getting to the good part,” Nesta defends with a huff.

“Oh, what? Are the characters about to fuck?” Cassian shoots back.

“Why? Looking for some tips?”

“Maybe I should read it aloud, so we can all enjoy it.”

Cassian reaches forward, but his fingers have just barely brushed against the smooth cover of Nesta’s book before she’s twisting out of his reach. Cassian settles a hand on the small of Nesta’s back, so he can hold her still and lean in to try again, but Nesta keeps a tight grip on the spine of her book, narrowing her eyes in a withering glare. As if that’s ever worked with him. Instead, Cassian meets her gaze and offers her an easy grin, raising an eyebrow in a clear challenge. It’s a staring match he’s determined to win.

“Anyone want to go for a swim?” Feyre’s voice cuts in, drawing Cassian’s attention.

It’s then that Cassian notices everyone is staring at him and Nesta. There’s certainly an array of expressions, Azriel and Rhys looking like they’re barely holding back laughter, Mor shocked, Lucien looking confused, and Feyre eyes wide with almost panic. Cassian doesn’t even dare look over toward Eris, swears he can feel the man’s gaze burning straight into his shoulder blades.

There’s various agreements in response to Feyre’s question, thankfully breaking the awkward bubble seconds away from exploding. Cassian retreats back to his chair, even as most of his family and friends stand up around him, and focuses on rooting around in the cooler for a fresh beer. Anything to keep his hands busy, to give him a distraction.

“Nesta? Are you coming?”

Cassian does raise his gaze again at the voice, watching as Eris stands in front of Nesta’s towel, hand outstretched toward her. Nesta eyes the hand in front of her for only a moment before resituating the way she’s lying and opening her book.

“In a bit,” Nesta dismisses, dropping her eyes to the pages. “I want to finish this chapter first.”

With her attention downcast, Nesta doesn’t see the way Eris’ hand drops back to his side, the way his mouth pinches infinitesimally in disappointment. But Cassian catches it all, made even worse when Eris’ eyes cut to him. Cassian glances away quickly, taking a long sip of his drink and squinting up at the sun.

“Come on, Eris!” Elain’s voice cuts through, sprawled across Lucien’s back as he carries her piggyback style across the sand.

One last look toward Nesta, and Eris turns to follow his brother and Elain down to the water, leaving just Cassian and Nesta still up at their homebase of towels and chairs. That prideful beast once again preens and purrs deep in Cassian’s gut, but there’s also the undeniable prickle of guilt, incessantly digging its claws in until Cassian has to swallow hard around a sip of his beer.

With a soft sigh, he turns toward Nesta. “You don’t want to join your boyfriend frolicking in the waves? It could be just like one of your romance novels.”

“You’re the worst,” Nesta tells him, and though she doesn’t look up from her book, Cassian can hear the eyeroll in her tone.

“I believe the word you’re actually looking for is best.”

“No, I’m quite certain it’s worst.”

“Guess I better live up to the description then.”

That draws Nesta’s attention, her head snapping toward him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rather than answer, Cassian throws back the rest of his beer, tossing the can into the growing pile of trash. He stands up and dusts the sand off his swim trunks, stepping over to loom over Nesta. He can see the exact moment she realizes what he intends, her eyes widening, lips parting on the start of a protest, but Cassian doesn’t give her the chance. He reaches down, quickly setting Nesta’s book aside before grabbing her around the waist and tossing her over his shoulder.

“Cassian, what the fuck?” Nesta screeches, beating her fists against his back while he walks them down to the water. “Put me down!”

“As you wish,” Cassian drawls, dropping Nesta down right into the waves.

The glares Nesta sends him is deadly, but it loses some of its edge with the way salt water drips off her hair and down her shoulders. More like an angry, wet kitten. The thought has Cassian laughing, which only seems to infuriate Nesta more. He knows he’s seconds away from a proper scolding, so Cassian scans the water until he finds Eris’ gaze, offering the man a mock salute before running deeper into the waves and tackling Azriel.

Everyone is sufficiently sunkissed, but happy by the time they’re pulling back on clothes and packing everything up. Cassian has pulled his shit back on over his shoulders and is scrubbing his towel through his hair when Mor sidles up beside him, the blonde linking arms with him and Azriel.

“Did you hear they opened up a new bar down the road?” Mor asks excitedly. “We should go.”

“I’m driving,” Cassian reminds her, tugging his arm free so he can fold up his chair.

“I’m not,” Mor argues. “I’ll drink enough for the both of us, and you can stick to water.”

“It’s whatever Nesta decides she wants us to do.”

“Oh, I’m getting a ride back with Eris,” Nesta pipes up.

It takes everything in Cassian to keep his face neutral, to turn back to Mor with a smile like he isn’t affected at all. “I guess I’m in then.”

~ * * * ~

Cassian feels exhausted by the time he’s stepping out of the elevators back at the Davenport. Between spending a day on the beach and the craziness of the bar afterwards, his limbs feel like they’re made of lead and every step is heavy. At least it means he’ll be able to shower, face plant into his bed, and not have to deal with his swirling and spiraling thoughts, the all encompassing tiredness promising to pull him under quickly.

He won’t have to think about Nesta in that tiny, red bathing suit. He won’t have to think about the way her eyes matched the waves that crashed against the shore. He won’t have to think about the way the sun had glinted off her hair until it was a halo of gold. He won’t have to think about the way her body had felt against his when he’s hauled her over his shoulder or how she’d laughed with him on the car ride down. He won’t have to think about that damned kiss, and he definitely won’t have to think about the fact Nesta went home with Eris.

Cassian yanks open the door to the apartment harder than he intends, but he can’t find it in himself to care, his mood already souring. He kicks off his shoes and sets his keys down, letting the cooler drop to the floor and deciding he’ll deal with it tomorrow. He’s about to walk to the bathroom to shower when he realizes the lights are on in the living room.

Nesta is perched on the sectional sofa, her hair still damp from her own shower but braided softly away from her face. She has on another oversized tee, legs curled up beneath the hem, and there’s a pint of ice cream balanced in her lap, a spoon poised between her fingers.

“What are you doing home?” Cassian asks cautiously, stepping closer. “I thought you were spending the night at Eris’ place.”

Somehow, it’s the wrong thing to say if the way Nesta’s expression shutters is anything to go by. She bites down on her bottom lip, her eyes dropping down to her ice cream. The reaction has lightning firing through Cassian’s blood, a whisper of anticipation skating down his spine and thrumming under his skin. The silence that hangs in the air between them feels charged and electric, and he doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Nesta speaks again.

“Eris and I broke up.”

—

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[existential-angstt]

Pay Attention Please (P. 4) // (professor) Shane “Dio” Morrissey x Reader

A/N: hi guys, this one is a bit shorter than the others but its been so long since i updated and the next parts gonna be spicy and just gonna take some mental acrobatics so i wanted to throw something out!

Taglist: @lokanda

That night you had a new arsenal of material at your fingertips to play with. He’d seemed almost flustered earlier– embarrassed. That was almost as hot as him throwing you against the wall all dominating, voice husky. You kept mentally tracing over the color in his cheeks when he stared at you earlier as you touched yourself, moaning his name. 

“Mr. Morrissey- fuck-” 

 You paused, your hand slowing. You swallowed and started moving your hand faster again, moaning experimentally, “Oh, D.”

 At the sound of that, you let out an involuntary whimper which made your whole body shudder, so you kept on. “Fuck, D- D-” 

You came remarkably quickly after that, noting how much of a difference it had made. 

-

The next day in class dealt with a more complicated concept so you didn’t allow yourself the luxury of daydreaming about your teacher railing you the whole period– instead, you actually had to think. Professor Morrissey assigned a rather lengthy and unforgiving worksheet to be completed in class and you were silently cursing him for it. 

 This is definitely payback.

 You looked up at him with a slightly agitated little look which quickly flashed to surprise as you caught him staring at you. He twitched minutely but didn’t dare drop his gaze for another moment until he was deciding to look somewhere else. You were sure it was an act of authority– he wasn’t letting the fact you met his gaze make him drop his. You looked back down at the worksheet, your face warm, which made you furious. 

 After an eternity of this infernal grammar practice, class ended and everyone started to pack up and go. You took your time at first, trying to best plan your approach when a particularly mischievous idea occurred to you. A test, of sorts. You let everyone else go up to his desk and set down their papers first, giving some space between you and the last student to leave. Eventually, you made your way up while he was busying himself with some papers– next class schedule or a plan or something. You set down your paper and said, “Thanks D- I mean, Professor Morrissey.”

 The expression you had plastered on your face was so normal it couldn’t possibly look normal– but you were forcing it to be a blank slate that gave away nothing. His head jerked up and he looked at you for a long long moment. He seemed to relax a little for a moment and dropped his eyes again, a lot of cogs very obviously turning inside his head.

 “Coffee?” You said.

 He looked at you again. 

And you looked at him. 

 He let out a little sigh, seemingly defeated. And then a nod. 

-

Waiting through the next period felt like nothing. You got your homework done and hardly listened to him speak, just the sound of his voice because you were so ecstatic. You’d won. At least for now. 

 You led the way out of the classroom after his second period once he’d gathered his things, down the stairs, out the door, onto the bus, and into downtown where you dropped into the cafe seats once again. He still seemed… somber. You noticed his hands were barely resting on the cafe table– and that was when you noticed his rings. He wore a few, definitely more than most men– and they were all interesting gaudy things. You could see a little bit of that young rascally goth boy in them because they were something he would’ve worn– one was a dragon, there was another with a large deep black stone like an onyx, and the last was a silver band with little skulls all around it. 

 You reached for his hand and he, to your surprise, didn’t resist, letting you pull it across the table to inspect them. “These are neat,” you said, turning his hand over in yours and trying very very hard not to think about how large it was. His hand was almost twice the size of yours and you swallowed a little bit. He sighed again softly. “They’re old,” he said, using his left to pick up and sip at his coffee.

 You reluctantly dropped his hand and nudged him with a foot. “Why’re you so grumpy?” 

 He frowned a little bit, sipping at his coffee again. You weren’t even sure how he was drinking it, yours was much too hot. He bit at his lip a little and then looked up at you, still frowning. “You’re supposed to be staying away from me.”

 You snorted softly. “I’m in your class, dumbass,” you said softly, flashing him a giddy little grin. He seemed to ease up a little, trying to keep his expression stormy but not finding much luck. 

 “What were you going to call me earlier?” 

You paused and looked at him again, a little thrown off by the abruptness. “What?” He eyed you with those dark eyes of his, almost hungry in their darkness. 

 “You were going to call me something other than Mr. Morrissey, what was it?” his gaze was relentless. Man, if he became a cop or something everyone would confess left and right with the intensity of his eyes on them. 

 “Uh- D…aniel?” 

He scrunched up his face. “What?”

 “D-aniel. Yes. Because… that’s your first name, isn’t it? D-aniel?” 

He snorted and laughed a little bit- a rich, low laugh that made your tummy flip. 

“How did you work that one out, kid?” he said, pulling the little stirrer out of his coffee and licking it clean. You blushed at the sight of his tongue– god, stop being so horny about everything-

 But then you remembered to scrunch your nose the same way he had. “You’re not that much older than me,” you grumbled. 

 He ignored it and set the stirrer down on the table. “My name’s not Daniel,” he said, eyes on his cup. “What is it then?” you responded automatically. 

 His eyes flicked up to yours. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said slightly smugly. You paused and opened your mouth- “You’re blushing,” he interrupted. 

That made you blush more and shut your mouth.

 “Tell me,” you said, sitting forward. He eyed you again and leaned in, inches away. 

“What, tell you what name to moan at night?” 

You froze. How did- but- 

 He chuckled lowly, which sent a ripple of heat down through your tummy and sat back in his seat. “You’re too young for me, sweetheart,” he said, finishing off his coffee. Without warning he got up, picked up his stuff in a fell swoop, and stepped outside. You scrabbled after him after a moment of sheer disbelief, making the table shift suddenly with a loud screech as you hurried out after him. He was holding all of his stuff just outside the door, lighting a cigarette. 

 You stared him down as he pulled the cigarette away with a groan, blowing out smoke. You shook your head a little. “Dean?” He chuckled again. “No.”

He started walking down the street, the direction he always went when he left you here. “David.” He coughed a little ahead of you, shaking his head. “God, no.” You kept following him down the street, spouting D names while he smoked and walked. You had no idea where you were going but he wasn’t stopping and you certainly weren’t letting him go. You named every D name you could think of, even weird ones as he became more and more amused. 

 “Derek?” “No.” “Devin.”

“Mmmmm no.” “Dominic.” “You’re never going to guess it, you know.”

 You kept following and he wasn’t stopping you, still marching down the street. He was, however, walking slow enough for you to keep up. With his long ass legs he could outpace you without breaking a sweat and he remarkably wasn’t. Eventually, after you’d run out of D names and simply followed in near silence, intent on not losing him, he stopped at a building and let himself in. You followed without hesitation, secretly waiting for him to say “when” but he hadn’t yet.

 He trudged up the stairs inside and you hurried after him. Eventually, you found yourselves at an apartment door he was unlocking. Your heart jumped in your chest and you followed him inside. You were in his apartment.

[sixcostumerefs]

what is up with the uk tour?

just a general ask because over the run of their production there have just been so many weird decisions and coincidences - two original principals leaving, the inexplicable shift for Nat Pilk to S/P instead of swing and the absence of a second swing after that, needing replacement principal costumes for Alana and Jen (and a wig for the latter) only 2/3rds of the way through the contract - plus two sets of production photos and their being sent to Korea instead of the Australian cast who are much closer and would not have other tour obligations to worry about. is there any evidence or idea about what was going on during the initial casting & fitting processes, or is it all just dumb luck that so much went off-kilter for them?

- Two original principals leaving were both cited as personal reasons. I don’t know their life, so I don’t really care to speculate more than that.

- With Natalie Pilkington, my guess is they had someone else lined up for one role who had to drop out at the last minute when they couldn’t easily recast. May have been that it was an S/P and they had Natalie Pilkington take over (S/P alt and one swing is logistically more preferable than no alt and two swings). Or it could have been that she have wanted to move on from being a swing to an alt (alts get to perform more with more guaranteed dates and primarily playing two tracks is lower stress) so that was the plan anyway, *and* someone else was planned as swing but has to drop. Someone needing to drop out could have been for any number of reasons - something personal with family or health or getting another contract that they chose to do instead are all fairly common reasons for someone to drop out of a contract between accepting it and starting it.

- Sometimes there might be seemingly unnecessary costume replacements and in that case, yes, sometimes it’s a show preparing for an actor to stick around for another contract and just replacing in advance to minimize wear. But there are so many very normal and mundane reasons for costumes to change beyond that and we see it a fair bit for a wide number of those reasons: Lauren Drew stopped wearing her original Aragon costume about two months into her contract and got an entirely new one. Samantha Pauly got a new skirt over the summer about 2/3 of the way through her 2021-2022 contract, Claudia Kariuki got a new corset almost 2/3 of the way through her 2021-2022 contract, etc. In the case of all the UKT changes, the replacements/alterations were very needed, so they were going to happen irregardless of whether or not people are going to stick around long term. I don’t want to dive too much into why because I want to respect what the actors themselves have said or not said, but (content warning for some discussion of body insecurity) you can read this post from Jen that indicates some of why she needed a new costume, and (content warning for weight loss before/after photos) this one from Chloe explaining the alterations to her costumes. I also posted this and this which give some context for some of why the changes might have happened as well.

I will say that I don’t feel like most of this is particularly out of the ordinary, for Six or for theatre more broadly! Again, actors have to drop out between being cast and the show starting all the time for any number of familial/health/personal/scheduling reasons. We’ve even seen this referenced as happening with other Six casts QUITE a few times. It’s a big part of why they wait until they’re significantly into rehearsals to announce cast to be as sure as they can that nothing will change. New costumes and alterations are made quite a bit, so this isn’t anything significantly out of the norm and again it was out of legitimate necessity. It all reads as totally normal and/or personal reasons rather than issues with the costumes themselves.

Re: South Korea. It’s mostly about longevity. Both Australia and the UK and Ireland Tour have been touring for quite a while. They’ve both gone to basically every venue in their respective countr(y/ies). At a certain point, demand starts to go down because many of the people who will want to see it will have gotten a chance to (same thing happens with every other touring show!).

Australia is wrapping up. They’ve done all the largest Australian cities, sometimes several times over. They only had scheduled tour stops through mid February. Contracts are up and several of the actors are moving on to other shows. If they were to do South Korea they’d basically have their final Aus show, a month off (which would mean they’re not working but would also be a barrier to them moving on to find other shows too), go back to do SK for a few weeks, and then be done. As much as I’d love for it to happen, there’s just not all that much incentive for Six to do that.

UK and Ireland Tour demand has lessened as well, but there’s still definitely enough for them to justify continuing the tour. But they’ve done a lot of the UK stops several times over, so to try to keep the tour sustained and worth the while (aka working most of the time), we’re going to see the UKT start branching out and being scheduled for other, newer stops and locations and/or places they haven’t visited as much (like Holland and Belfast/Dublin, respectively).

So. Aus yes is closer and yes they did initially suggest that Aus might do some shows, but Aus doesn’t really have an argument to continue for another contract especially just for one or maybe two stops. Meanwhile it’s super beneficial for UKT to do it from a business perspective. So….UKT it is.