#still waiting 4 bags too btw.

[saintdaily]

day 103

[fumiliar]

CAN WE PLS GET OLDER BF TOJI HEADCANNONS PLS PRETTY PLS 🙏

(LOVE YOUR WORK BTW!!!)

TYSMM! i hope you like it!😵‍💫

✎...toji is in his late 30s (he lives!) and reader is in her early 20s. megumi is a toddler and he keeps him.

you were the one who chased older bf!toji, you manifested this man. ever since you met him in your apartment gym, you've been trying to get close with him. you started to gym when he went to the gym, asking him for help to carry the weight because you were inexperienced. slowly but surely, you started to develop a relationship with toji, talking to him when it was unrelated to exercise.

older bf!toji who was scared to ask you out on a date. you were so young! he on the other hand, was a widow, a single father and 15+ years older than you. he could've been your father! all these thoughts subsided when he saw you waiting in front of the gym for him. "hi toj-" "date?" he blurted out, leaving you blushing and shocked. "sure toji." that night, he couldn't stop gushing over you to his toddler megumi.

older bf!toji who told you upfront that he was a single father, a widow and looking for a serious relationships on your first date. not wanting to cause any other misunderstandings, he's old, he doesn't have time to play games. he doesn't have the time to fool around, he wants a serious relationship, someone he can lean on, importantly someone who megumi can lean on.

older bf!toji who did not understand why such a youthful person would want him. the stress of his job and raising a child alone has manifested on his appearance. while you, were the epitome of youth in his eyes. the days where you could've been partying in clubs, you spent playing with megumi. he could not wrap his head around your actions.

older bf!toji who barely uses social media. not due to his age, but he's too busy with his life. his only socials are his facebook(good 4 u). you had to teach him how to make an instagram account, and to this day he still doesn't understand how it works. his insta only follows you, with one post, which is also a picture of you.

older bf!toji who's always 'reluctantly' accompanying you, reluctantly watching chick flicks with you, reluctantly accompanying you shopping and holding your shopping bags, reluctantly holding your purse. he's always reluctantly doing stuff, but he ends up doing it anyways. why? cause he loves you. there's a certain joy inside him he hasn't felt since his wife's passing. he secretly enjoys doing girly things with you, just to see the happiness on your face.

older bf!toji who never wants you to feel like megumi is your responsibility. though he wants you to be there for megumi, he doesn't want to burden you with his own struggles.

older bf!toji who stumbles over his feet when he first saw you with megumi. for the first time in his life, he saw megumi like someone from the first meeting. megumi was constantly giggling, smiling ear to ear. without toji realising, his expressions had mirrored his son, like father like son.

older bf!toji who's scared of his future. he's always on the brink of death, with the risky nature of his job. he wants to grow old together, but hesitation takes over him when he realised that in the end, it would just be him growing old.

older bf!toji who has the worst taste in clothing. literally horrendous, when you see his wardrobe, it's just multiples of his tight black shirt, his weird poofy pants and some workout clothes. his other clothing was horrible, some shirts having holes as big as your fist. ever since you've seen that, you've decided to go on a shopping spree for him, along with getting him and megumi some matching clothes.

older bf!toji who hasn't had the time to take care of himself properly. taking care of megumi was such a hassle making him forgot about himself. when you pamper him with skincare nights and face masks, he literally gets addicted. every time you offer to do a face mask or to do his skincare, he dashes to lay his head on your lap. he's still too shy to ask for it, but you can tell how much he likes it. his wrinkles slowly going away with every touch of your hand, as if he's finally let his guard down.

[httpsdana]

Hiiii!!! can you write a jamal story with promt 107 where they're having an argument (he's at fault 🤭) with like HEAVY angst where jamal is lowkey being a meanie and not trying to understand readers side but ends in the cutest fluff tho (cuz can't accept sad endings 😭)

Btw FREAKING INLOVEE WITH UR WRITING UR LITERALLY SAVING THE JAMAL GIRLIES I SWEAR!!! 🙏🏻🙏🏻💗💗

Also thank you in advance!!!!! 😽🩷🤍

Lost In Translation~Jamal Musiala

THANK YOU SM FOR UR SWEET MESSAGE. i hope u enjoy this one 😙🫶🏻

request from here

master list

players/drivers I write for

107-"please stop. you're scaring me."

She felt it from the start of the season. Jamal had said he was going to give his best this season and push himself to his limits. He promised to avoid any distractions and focus solely on football, fully committing himself. What she didn’t expect was for him to avoid her too. It made her feel like she was the distraction, rather than the support he needed.

y/n woke up every morning without Jamal by her side. Every day, she rushed to the kitchen, hoping to see him and wish him a good day.

All she wanted was to hear those three words she felt like she hadn’t heard in forever. But every morning, she was disappointed to find that he had already left without even a "good morning."

When she returned from work, Jamal still wouldn’t be home. She knew his training sessions were intense, but she also knew he couldn’t possibly be training from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m.

She made him dinner every night, hoping they could share a moment together when he came home exhausted from practice. Instead, he’d arrive late at night, claiming he had been at the gym after training.

He no longer wrapped his arms around her at night. He hadn’t touched or kissed her in over two months. It felt like she was invisible to him, and she couldn’t take it anymore. She had to tell him how she felt, or she would have no choice but to let him go.

y/n sat in their living room, waiting for Jamal to come home. It was 10 p.m. After what felt like 100 episodes of her show, she finally heard his keys and the door opening. She remained seated on the couch, waiting for him. He walked into the living room, seeing her sitting there, watching TV.

“Hey,” he mumbled, dropping his bag on the couch and sitting down, keeping his distance from her.

She wanted to ask him about his day. She wanted to ask how he was feeling about the start of the season, especially given his incredible performance. But she didn’t. She just wanted to know what was going on and why he was avoiding her.

“We need to talk,” she said, looking at him intently, her voice blank and direct.

Jamal sighed, running his hands over his face, exhaustion clear in his features. “y/n, I’m tired. I just want to shower and go to sleep,” he said, already standing up to leave the room.

That’s what he always did, avoiding any conversation with her.

“No, Jamal. You’re not running away this time. We need to have a serious conversation, and you need to listen to me for once,” she said, standing up too, her voice tense with all the frustration she had been holding inside for so long.

He turned around, surprised by her outburst but clearly annoyed that he was going to have to talk. “What is it now?” he said, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice weak and hurt.

“What do you mean, what’s wrong? You’re the one who said we need to talk, and now you’re asking me what’s wrong?” he snapped, his voice getting louder with each word.

“What’s wrong with us? What happened? Did I do something to upset you? Why are you avoiding me and acting like I don’t even exist in this house?” she said, her voice trembling as she fought back tears.

“Oh my god. You’re always so needy, constantly craving attention. I can’t have you clinging onto me all day, y/n. I come home every night exhausted, and all I want is to sleep. But you’re there, nagging me because you can’t survive without attention. What am I supposed to do?” he shouted bitterly, stepping closer to her.

“I’m not asking for anything crazy! Just acknowledge me. Say good morning, make me coffee before you leave, tell me you love me at least!” she yelled back, her hands dropping to her sides in defeat.

Jamal was fuming, his face red with anger. She had never seen him like this before, and it scared her. He paced around the room, his steps heavy, before kicking a vase, shattering it to pieces. y/n flinched at the sound, stepping back slightly as Jamal moved closer.

“Please stop. You’re scaring me” she whispered as he stood in front of her, his face inches from hers. It was the closest he had been to her in weeks. She could feel the heat radiating from him, but his cold expression sent chills down her spine.

Jamal didn’t seem to hear her or care. Instead, he continued hurling hurtful words.

“I come home to rest. I don’t need anyone ruining my mood before I leave for training. I don’t need anyone distracting me from having my best season. So stop with the attention-seeking and deal with it. It’s not like I’m treating you as if you’re dead,” he spat, his words cutting deep into Y/N’s heart like knives.

She fought back the tears that threatened to fall, refusing to let him see her break.

“But you are, Jamal! You don’t look at me anymore. You don’t remember anything. You’ve forgotten our date nights, and we haven’t had a Sunday date in weeks. Sunday is your rest day, but instead of spending it with me, you choose to hang out with your friends, friends you see every day at training. Why can’t you acknowledge your girlfriend, who’s doing her best to stay calm and deal with the consequences of dating a footballer?” she cried, finally letting out all the words she had been holding inside for months.

“For fuck’s sake. You just don’t get it, do you? I’m going to shower and then go to sleep. I better not hear about this childish problem you’ve made up in your head again,” he said coldly, leaving the room and heading to their bedroom.

y/n collapsed on the couch, the tears she had been holding back finally breaking free. She pulled her knees to her chest and sobbed into them, her heart aching.

She didn’t understand how Jamal had changed so much, why he had become like this. They had been dating for years, and every year he wanted to have a great season, but this was the first time he had acted this way. She felt their relationship slipping through her fingers, and she didn’t have the strength to fight anymore.

After crying for a while, exhaustion overtook her, and she wanted to sleep. But she couldn’t bring herself to sleep next to Jamal after the hurtful things he had said. She began walking to the guest room when she heard his voice behind her.

“Where are you going?” he asked, making her turn to look at him. He stood there shirtless, fresh from the shower, his hair still wet and dressed in the shorts he always wore to bed.

“To sleep in the guest room,” she replied, turning away.

“Fine, be like that,” he scoffed, and she heard the bedroom door slam behind her.

She sighed and entered the cold, empty guest room, with only a bed in the middle. Lying down, she felt as though she were on a rock.

She closed her eyes, hoping for some rest, but after tossing and turning for hours, she gave up. She sat up, running a hand over her face, wondering if Jamal was struggling to sleep too.

A part of her hoped he was awake, thinking about her, just as she was about him. But she knew he was probably fast asleep, after using "needing sleep" as an excuse to avoid their argument.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. She looked up and saw Jamal peeking his head in to see if she was asleep. When he saw her sitting up, he entered the room slowly, standing awkwardly by the door.

“Can I... sleep next to you?” he asked nervously, avoiding her gaze and looking at the floor. When she didn’t reply, he looked up, seeing the hesitation in her eyes.

“I won’t touch you or anything. I’ll stay as far as I can,” he pleaded, his eyes begging for some rest.

y/n thought about it. She couldn’t sleep without him next to her either. “Please,” he said softly, and she finally gave in, nodding her head and moving to the far side of the bed, turning her back to him.

She felt the bed dip as Jamal lay down next to her. Even with the distance, she could feel the warmth of his body close to hers. y/n closed her eyes, hoping to finally get some sleep. As she drifted off, she felt his arm drape over her body, a small smile forming on her lips as she welcomed his warmth. She knew they would need to talk about their fight in the morning, but for now, they could rest.

Next morning, y/n had woken up by the sun that was shining in the guest room. She turned around, hoping Jamal was still next to her, but as usual, he had already left the room.

She let out a sigh, knowing he probably left to training too. She hoped he would stay and explain his hurtful words, but it seemed as if nothing happen to him last night. y/n entered the bathroom, washing her face and brushing her teeth, before going to the kitchen.

She was surprised when she saw Jamal there, his shirtless back to her as he was making breakfast. When he noticed her, he smiled at her, making her more confused. "good morning darling. I made you coffee" he pointed to the cup of coffee that was next to the coffee machine.

Jamal moves quietly around the kitchen, the sound of eggs sizzling and toast popping up from the toaster filling the silence. y/n sat on the counter, the cup of coffee next to her, arms folded, watching him, her heart heavy with the weight of the argument that’s still fresh in her mind.

He seems to be gathering his thoughts, carefully plating the breakfast before he turns to her, his expression soft but full of regret.

“I’m really sorry,” he starts, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“I’ve been thinking about everything, and I know I shouldn’t be trying to explain why I acted the way I did, because none of it excuses what I said or how I treated you. It was wrong, and I wasn’t supposed to do any of that.” He takes a deep breath, looking down at the floor before meeting your eyes again.

“But with the new coach and the new season, there’s been so much pressure. The coach has been really strict about us not getting distracted, and I... I let that get into my head.” he said, his voice weak and unstable.

y/n doesn’t respond right away, waiting for him to continue, her gaze steady as she takes in his words.

"I thought that maybe you were a distraction," he says, shaking his head at himself.

"But that was so wrong of me. All you’ve ever done is support me. You’ve been there through everything, my ups and downs, every game, every challenge, and instead of seeing that, I pushed you away. I don’t even know why I said the things I did... I just... I took my stress out on you, and I’m so sorry for that. I know it hurt you, and I regret it more than I can say.” he stuttered, seeming nervous

Her chest tightens, emotions swirling inside her as she thinks back to how hurt she felt. But she remains silent, waiting for him to finish.

“I shouldn’t have acted like football was more important than you," he continues, stepping closer.

"Because it’s not. You’re so important to me. Honestly, most of my success, it’s because of you. You keep me grounded, and your support means everything. It’s not just my talent that’s gotten me where I am, it’s you. And I was stupid for not seeing that." he said confidently, stepping closer to her

He looks at her, his eyes full of sincerity, waiting for some kind of response. She hesitates, his words slowly sinking in.

"You really hurt me, Jamal," she says softly. "It wasn’t just about football. It was about how you made me feel like I wasn’t enough, like I was in the way." she said, her voice filled with pain.

He nods, a look of guilt flashing across his face.

"I know, and I’m going to spend every day trying to make up for it. I want to fix this. I don’t want you to ever feel that way again." he said honestly

There’s a pause before he speaks again, his voice even softer.

"I took the day off today. I thought maybe we could go for a walk, spend some time together, and get some ice cream, if you want? I just... I want to make it up to you." he hesitated, waiting for her to speak

She tries to hide the small smile tugging at her lips.

"You got me with the ice cream. I can’t say no to free ice cream." she jokes

He chuckles, though there’s still a seriousness in his gaze.

"I really am sorry. I swear to you, nothing like that will ever happen again. Football’s important, but so are you. More than that, you’re more important." he said, grabbing her hands in his

"i believe you Jamal. I hope you don't break your promise this time" she said, giving him a small smile.

He smiled back, squeezing her hands in his.

"you won't regret it i promise" he said

After breakfast, they walk side by side, hand in hand, talking and catching up on everything that’s happened since the argument.

Slowly, the tension between them begins to ease. As they sit on a park bench, ice creams in hand, y/n leans her head on his shoulder, the warmth of the moment filling the space between them.

"I missed this," she says softly, closing her eyes as she let the comfort of his presence wash over her.

"I missed it too," he murmurs, placing a gentle kiss on her head before resting his against hers.

Everything was fine now.

[gyubeom]

Same Bed

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Pairing: Best friend!Soobin x Reader (f)

Genre: smut, fluff

Warnings: Reader is a female, having sex while other people are present, somnophilia, slight degradation, use of pet name baby and babe, squirting, creampie, nipple play

a/n: Hi guys back with another fic, hope ya’ll enjoy! Btw this is a non requested fic!

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You were on your way to Yeonjun’s house for the sleepover he invited you to. You were excited to go since your crush, Soobin was going to be there. You arrived at Yeonjun’s house and rang the doorbell. Somebody answered the door “Oh hi Y/n you’re early” Yeonjun said. “Come in let’s wait for the others” he said while opening the door wider. When you entered you saw Soobin and Beomgyu sitting on the couch. You exchanged your hi’s as you put down your bags. You sat down on the couch and waited for the others while catching up with the ones who arrived.

When Taehyun and Huening Kai arrived you started the sleepover. Yeonjun suggests you guys order something to eat, you all agreed on pizza. While waiting for the food to arrive you played some board games. After a while the pizza arrived and you decided to watch a movie. Before watching the movie you decided to go to the bathroom, “Im going to the bathroom before the movie starts” you said. “Oh ok hurry up” Yeonjun says, you hurriedly went to the bathroom.

When you got back, all of the seats were taken except for the seat next to Soobin. Your cheeks were turning red as you sat down. “What should we watch?” Taehyun asked “I was thinking the new horror movie that came out” Beomgyu said. You all agreed on the horror movie and began watching it. During the movie you hid in Soobin’s chest with his arm over your shoulder pulling you in. You were too scared to care if you were so close to him.

Finally when the movie ended, it was 2:00 am by then. Since it was late and you guys were tired you all decided to sleep. “Wait Y/n and Soobin” Yeonjun called out “Is it ok if you guys share a room? I only have 4 bedrooms”. Your blood rushed to your face at the thought of you sharing a room with Soobin. “Yeah it’s fine” Soobin agreed “Yeah sure it’s fine” I agreed as well.

Later that night you just finished doing your night routine. You changed into the pajamas you packed and got comfy on the bed. Soobin was still in the bathroom, though you felt too sleepy to wait for him so you drifted to sleep.

Soobin got back from the bathroom to see you sleeping. He smiled at your sleeping face. He climbed in the bed and lifted the blanket only to see what you were wearing. You were wearing a tank top and booty shorts that hiked up from you tossing around on the bed.

Soobin felt himself get hard at the sight. He stared at you for a bit before lifting your tank top teasingly revealing your breasts. He groaned and started to play with your nipples. While he was doing so, you were squirming and letting out small moans. He then took one of your nipples and started sucking them which made you let out a small whine.

You then slowly woke up to him harshly sucking on your nipples which made you pull on his hair. Soobin then stopped and looked at you in shock. “Omg Y/n do you want me to stop- Im sorry” he said in panic “No no its fine, continue Soobin” thats all it took for him to start removing your top and shorts.

“Y/n you’re so wet” he said while spreading your legs open. You let out a moan on his remark “Hey you have to be quiet, the others might hear you” Soobin warned you. You didn’t want to stay quiet, damn you don’t even care if the others heard you. You were snapped out of your thoughts with Soobin roughly rubbing your clit. You let out a loud moan at the sensation.

Soobin then started to lick your entrance before sliding in his tongue. You bit your lip to prevent the moan from leaving your mouth. He started to roughly pump two fingers in your hole making you squirm. When he added a third finger, you felt your self reaching your high. “Soo-Soobin Im gonna cum” you said in between moans. “Yeah? Cum on my fingers then” after a few more pumps you released all over his fingers.

He pulled out his fingers and started to suck on them licking all of your juices. He then started to undress himself and throw his clothes on the floor. He then sat on the edge of the bed and ushered you to stand up. He then led you to sit on his lap. You felt his hard dick on your inner thigh which made you moan.

“I wanna see you ride my dick tonight” Soobin said, you nodded your head and aligned yourself to him. Once you sunk in you both let out a groan, you started grinding and bouncing up and down on his cock in a steady pace. You kept your head sunk in the crook of his neck and your hands gripping on his broad shoulders.

“Fuck you feel so good Y/n” Soobin said “Mhm-yeah?” You said trying to control your moans. You felt Soobin’s hand snake down to play with your swollen nipples. You let out a moan as you continued to ride him. He then reached down your cunt and rubbed fast circles on your clit. You felt your high coming again making you clench down on his cock.

“Fu-fuck Y/n if you keep clenching like that Im gonna cum” Soobin said grunting. Without a warning he spilled out his load on you filling you up with warm white liquid. This made you cum again for the second time. You were both panting still coming from your high. That was until you were pushed back down onto the bed.

Soobin hovered over you and whispered “You think you can handle one more baby”. You were at shock at the pet name he used causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. You nodded as he lifted your hips up and put your legs on his shoulders. Suddenly he bottomed out in you without a warning which cause you to scream since you were also overstimulated. Your scream was probably heard considering your loud moans earlier.

Soobin was going on an inhuman speed making you and the bed shake. You could hear the faint noises of the headboard hitting the wall behind it. Soobin reached down and started playing with your clit making you moan. He then trailed a finger down leading to your entrance where his dick was and slipping a two fingers in it.

“Soobin!” you screamed loudly, “what don’t you like this Y/n? Wearing such revealing sleepwear when you know you’re going to sleep with me?” he said while roughly pumping the two fingers the same pace as his dick. You whined in response, not being able to form a proper sentence at the delicious stretch.

Not long after you can feel a foreign sensation creep up as Soobin increased his speed. Soobin then used his free hand to rub your clit which made you moan loudly followed by a whimper. You suddenly felt yourself release something new which made you scream Soobin’s name loudly.

“Fuck baby are you squirting?” Soobin said while cumming inside of you. He pulled out in a hurry and rubbed your clit which made you release more and helped you ride your high. Your juices splashing on the sheets and on Soobin’s abs. Once you stopped squirting, Soobin pulled out. You felt his cum leaking out of you.

You were too fucked out to move so you closed your eyes for a while. You heard Soobin get up and picked up your clothes. Then you heard him run a bath and get a towel to clean the both of you. “Y/n we need to shower before we go to bed, we’re sticky” Soobin said while lightly tapping you.

You nodded sleepily as he carried you to the bathroom and put you in the tub. You were half awake when he started massaging your shampoo into your scalp which made you sigh from relaxation. He started scrubbing your body and rinsing the soap suds off. He dried you with a soft towel and layed you down on your shared bed.

He hopped on the bed and pulled you close to his chest. He took a peek of your face to find you snoring lightly with your mouth slightly opened. He chuckled and kissed your forehead then whispered in your ear “I love you Y/n”. He saw you smile in your sleep, shortly after he drifted away to sleep.

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a/n: Hi guys! i hoped you liked it! I’ll be releasing more fics soon, thank you for reading!

[thelastofhyde]

ii. santorini.

pairing. tourguide!joel miller x fem!reader. series synopsis. on the brink of undergoing a life-altering change, you runaway from your problems in the only way any sane person can: embarking on a mediterranean cruise. there you meet joel miller, a grumpy, private tour-guide, who just so happens to be tasked with touring you through each stop on your cruise. from greek goddesses to roman ruins, you have ten days to avoid your fate. maybe a frowning, southern, sex-on-legs of a man is just what the doctor ordered. chapter summary. tensions are high as you and joel spend your first day together exploring the popular island of santorini. back on the boat, joel gets a glimpse at more than he bargained for. series warnings. no use of y/n, set in 2015, no apocalypse au, cruise!au, rom-com, enemies-ish to lovers, tour-guide!joel, unspecified age gap, depictions/discussions of grief, angst, fluff, a whole load of smut, a lot of cheesy stereotypical romance tropes bc i just wanna see joel not suffer ( too much ) <3 chapter warnings. mild smut ( female masturbation, mentions of oral sex + piv sex ), bickering, alcohol, mild angst, so much cheese it'll turn you lactose intolerant!! btw joel hates santorini and he makes that known, but none of his opinions reflect my own ( please don't be mean to me over things characters say <33 ) word count. 7.9k hyde’s input. the majority of this chapter was written with a mixture of medicine flowing through my veins, it's a miracle it's even intelligible. apologies for the wait, the holidays and health issues got in the way <3 as always, i hope you enjoy, comments an dreblogs are always appreciated !! previous chapter - next chapter - series masterlist

It is a known fact that your name and late rarely exist within the same sentence.

The mere thought of being late fills you with a sickness you cannot cure. The extremes you’ll go to avoid it know no bounds. From arriving four hours before a flight, to waiting in your car a whole hour before entering a lecture hall, adulthood is a phase in which you’d sworn to repair the damage of a childhood worth of not arriving late.

Late to school, late to birthday parties, late to dentist appointments.

It wasn’t that you were a particularly difficult child, running rampant around the house as your mother tried to dress you, or your father tried to feed you. Quite the contrary, really. Often, it was little-you who chased around after them, and who waited by the door, school bag in hand, tapping your foot with every second that ticked by on the clock. You were too young and hadn’t the ability nor the empathy to understand that your parents were held up with sorting through things directly influenced by your existence, like cleaning up the messes you left at the breakfast table, or fixing the doorknob you and your sister broke in an intense game of hide and seek.

Nowadays, you can count on one hand the times you’ve been late.

First, you were late to your own surprise birthday party, but that was down to you getting stuck an extra hour at work. It was out of your control.

Then, there’d been your graduation ceremony. Your father missed an exit and ended up taking you on a mystery tour of the city, trying to find the next turn that led to your campus. Again, out of your control.

The third time is the one you remember panicking over the most, knee bouncing uncontrollably with nerves as you sat squeezed between two strangers on a plane. Your sister, barely halfway through her third trimester, had gone into labour, and where were you? Stumbling around drunk on a private beach in Cancún, mumbling along to the lyrics of some early 2000s classic you forget the name of. Your niece, all 4 and a half pounds of her, had decided now was her time to shine and there was nothing, not even the 4 weeks she had yet to grow in utero, that was going to stop her. By the time you arrived, mascara smudged eyes and with the stench of tequila still on your skin, she was laying peacefully in her incubator, the tiniest little fingers clenched into fists and a name tag around her wrist. This too was out of your control.

But the fourth time you’re late, as you stride urgently across the wooden decking of the ship, weaving in and out of lounge chairs and polo-neck wearing crew members, it’s completely within your control.

Yet, it’s not entirely your fault.

An alarm that never went off. A game of hide-and-seek with your purse. An unfortunate slip on bathroom tiles adding another bruise to your knees. An elevator that refused to travel faster than the speed of a snail. It’s as though Lady Luck had set out in favour of being against you, doing her utmost to ensure you arrive exactly seven minutes past your deadline. His deadline.

Best be on the deck by 7 am, darlin’, or I’m dockin’ without ya.

Your head whips from one side to another, eyes finding a familiar figure amongst the few passengers meeting their own private guides. It’s the same man from yesterday, out on the balcony, the memory of him cheering his champagne and shooting a tipsy smile your way replaying. Only now he’s clad in plaid, with a frown etched into his forehead as he stares at his watch. There’s another man, hanging off his arm, fusing with the collar of his shirt.

“She’s late,” you overhear him say, voice firm and leaking with annoyance.

“Maybe she just slept in!” The man next to him is cheerier, tired eyes full of optimism, even as he turns his head and stifles a yawn. “Give her a few minutes.”

“What kind of shitty tour guide sleeps in?” Balcony-Man huffs, and you can’t help but think of your niece and her pouty face whenever she fails to get her own way. “Does she think I’d not rather be asleep too? Lazy c-”

“See? This is why I told you to eat that damn croissant before we left.” The taller of them seems to snap, rolling his eyes. “Brighten up, Bill, or so help me God you’ll be leaving this boat a divorcee.”

Trying to tune their voices out, as the guilt of prying crawls its way into your bones, your gaze points down at your feet. The very same heels you’d worn last night, pretty as they may leave you, have you cursing at the Sun and the Moon. If you’d have just worn your sneakers, maybe you could have ran up the stairs instead of taking the snail-evator.

Joel, tour guide, Signore Miller’s voice- though your imagination can’t quite reach his level of arrogance- rears its irritating head through your mind, recalling his words from last night. Wear somethin’ a little more… practical. That had been enough to awaken that stubborn mule inside of you, hell-bent on proving him wrong.

But now, late, and with him nowhere in sight, your heels seem to have had the opposite effect. They’ve proved him right.

Which leaves you here, moping so pathetically you’re incapable of appreciating the shine of a rising sun over the horizon of aqua blue water.

Five minutes, you decide. That’s how long you’ll allow yourself to dwell in self-pity. Then, you’ll trek your way over to the Excelsior lounge, hit up the breakfast buffet, and await the general disembarking time.

Who knows, maybe you’ll get a call to say there’s a miraculous spot opened up on one of the tour groups.

If not, you’ll be fine! You’ve travelled alone before, you’ve got an all-inclusive data plan on your phone and you’re pretty well-acquainted with the less-than-accommodating features of Google Maps. You don’t need help, or a tour guide, much less one as blood-boiling, skin-prickling, irritating as Joel Mil-

“Wasn’t sure how ya like your coffee, but you look like a milk, two sugars kind of girl to me.”

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear. Or, in this case, think of him.

Turning a little too fast, you stumble a step or two back, and, sure enough, there he is. A tight fitting, dark grey t-shirt stretched over the swell of his biceps, a pair of washed-out denims, and two well-worn running shoes, one on each foot. Trailing up the swell of his tanned neck, you count the freckles up to his eyes, and find there’s bags under them. The growth of hair on his face is just as unkempt as yesterday, yet already it seems to have grown longer, making the litter of greys stand out more. The hair that sits atop his head is damp, and the strands that have managed to dry are being messed around by the morning air. He’s still got that ever-present frown stamped into his forehead, yet his mouth doesn’t seem to curl into a snarl as he calls your name.

You must stare a moment or two past his comfort level, for he clears his throat and nods down at his hand. Two to-go cups, the smallest streams of steam floating out the hole in each lid.

He’s extending one out- the one in his right hand- towards you. “If you’d rather black, you can take min-”

“No!” You snap back into your own body, all too quickly and all too volatile. Clear your throat, and then try again, this time with a little less of that im being held at gunpoint shake in your voice. “No… Thank you. It’s fine- Milk is fine.”

It’s more than fine.

In fact, he’s gotten it spot on. Down to the number of sugars you take.

But, still stubborn, you yearn to not give him the satisfaction of being right so early in the day, and instead settle for accepting the coffee out his hand. You welcome the golden warmth eagerly, eyes unable to resist slipping shut as you take your first sip. When they reopen, you find Joel watching you, intently. Purposefully, as though you’re something to be studied.

Clearing your throat, you glance to the side and spot Balcony-Man and his partner greeting an apologetic woman.

“Thanks for the, uh,” his stare is intimidating your nerves, setting you on edge of something you’re all to eager to jump off. “Coffee. Yeah. You didn’t have to… I mean, I actually thought you’d, you know, uh-”

“You thought I left without ya.” He states. All you can do is nod. “I could’ve. I did warn you not to be late.”

“You did.”

“I also told you to wear somethin’ other than them heels.”

“I know.”

“Yet here you are, late and in heels. You’re not very good at following orders.” He exhales something akin to a chuckle, as devoid of humour as it may be, and you swear he’s suddenly closer than you remember, knuckles brushing against your own as he bumps his paper cup against yours. “Just what am I gonna do with ya, huh?”

For a moment, you swear your heart has leaped from your chest and up to your throat, threatening to choke you with the beat of it. There’s no sense you can make of it, this reaction he rouses, a heat you can’t control creeping down your loins as you drag in a whiff of some manly cologne, the kind you’d usually turn your nose up at for being too overbearing. Yet, on him, it’s not. On him it’s just right, like he was born with pine soaked skin, and a tobacco stained kiss, and-

Before you can think of pulling in another breath, Joel’s stepped back, allowing a cool breeze to pass between you and get a hold of your senses.

“C’mon, we’re slotted in for the first tender that leaves for shore.”

“Oh my God.”

You’re half certain Joel’s growing sick of hearing those three words roll off your tongue. He’s likely felt this way since it first left your mouth, feet struggling to safely step out onto the dock as your mind became enchanted by the picturesque view in front of you. Only the burn of his hand meeting your lower back, nudging you ahead to make space for himself and the other passengers to step off the tender boat, was capable of dragging you back into your own body, the wanderlust that had gripped your soul yearning to be free to explore every building that sits carved into rock, every water-taxi that flows idly on cristaline water, every step that winds up and up and up the island’s cliff where, at the top, civilisation seems to lie.

The port you’ve docked on is rather small, with naught more than two docking strips and a walkway of shops and confection stands, with boats that find no space along the docking strips tying themselves to any safety they may find over the expanse of the walkway. It is no wonder the cruise floats safely out in deeper waters, alongside several other cruise lines, with no space for such large vessels. And, yet, the port is alive with something. The ground seems to pulse, like a beat of a heart, and the air, as fresh as the grass after heavy rainfall, almost dances its way down your lungs. Voices swim all around you, tourists scrambling past each other, fighting in a race towards something you’ve yet to identify.

“So this is Gialos, also known as the Old Port of Fira.” Somewhere, behind you perhaps, Joel’s voice pipes up, a speech so rehearsed and robotic, a part of your wonders how many times he’s recited it, how many people he’s recited it to. The other part of you, however, is much too fixated on the stairs ahead to pay him true attention, eyes following as two men and several donkeys descend. “That, up there, is Fira, the capital of Santorini. We’re going to need to take a cable- Are you even listening to me?”

“Yes!” You’re quick to react, a defensive rise in your voice. He meets it with a deadpan look and the crossing of his arms over his chest, which quickly becomes something you wish he wouldn’t do as you watch the tight fabric of his shirt stretch itself thin over the bulge of his arms. “No. Sorry, I’m just… Wow.”

You hope he appreciates the restraint you show towards repeating those three dreaded words again.

“You have all day to stare,” his words trip over his own irritated scoff, and you bite back a question of why he’s a guide if he seems to hate it so much, fearful he’s too honest to not tell you a truth that may hurt your fragile feelings. A truth where it is not so much his job he dislikes, but rather, your presence and all that it brings. “Right now, we need to move. Don’t wanna spend all day waitin’ in line now, do ya?”

This need for speed that hooks the other tourists seems to filter over into your guide, who’s forcing you forward, that heat of his palm now hovering inches away from your lower back. It’s enough to lead you where he pleases. As a pair, you weave in and out small clusters of people, till the space between you both and the large gathering crowd slowly diminishes. It is there where his once telepathic leading fails, with Joel turning left towards it as you stray right, over to the ascending pathway of stairs.

“Where are you going?” His tone is offended, almost, as he comes to a halt and watches you fail to do the same, to notice the space between you both and correct it like some puppy who’s been called to heel by its master.

“Where am I going?” The question, at first, is one you mistake as rhetorical. Staring back at him with an equaled confusion, you gesture to the stairway, as though it is the most obvious answer. Because, well, where else could you have been heading? He said so himself, that up there is Fira, the capital of Santorini, and you’ll be damned if you don’t get to see it. “Where are you going?”

“To the cable cars, that’ll take us up the island.”

Above the crowd of people, hanging over doors of small businesses, lay several signs. CABLE CARS - 6€ ! stands out, impossible to miss. Symbols you scarcely recognise sit beneath it, in smaller text, and you assume it’s Greek. In the distance, you spy the movement of the mobile boxes, people being carted up the length of the cliff at a speed that promises them a journey of mere minutes.

“Oh.” So, perhaps his option makes more sense than your own far longer, more tiring one. Still, stubborn as a mule, you double down on your decision to take the scenic route, inching closer towards the first step. Your guide, still in the face, refuses to move, daring eyes willing you to continue. “You want us to take the lazy man’s route? You go ahead, I’ll take the stairs and meet you at the top.”

You press one foot up onto the first step, weary of where you rest the point of your heel.

Glancing a few steps further up, there’s the unmistakable sight of a mound of brown substance, no doubt excreted out of one of the donkeys that walk ahead, tourists mounted on their poor backs.

“I don’t think you understand,” he finally inches closer, if only slightly, hands clenched at his side. “There’s five hundred and eighty-eight steps until you reach the top.”

The number is more daunting than you expect, and you pray he can’t read this on your face. “Only? I’ll be up in no time then!”

You feel more than see the way Joel’s eyes travel down the expanse of you, stuttering almost over the curvature of your chest, the dips at your hips, till they rest at your feet. The question hangs loose between you, unspoken yet evident.

In those heels?

“Listen, Joel,” taking a second, third, and fourth step, you aim for a literal higher ground, staring down below as he continues to drift closer and closer towards the stairway. “If you’re not fit for the task, or the climb’s no good for your knees, you can just say it, there’s no shame. Like I said, I’ll meet you at the top. Promise I won’t even report the fact my private guide abandoned me in favour of his own comfort.”

Defeat has never come easy.

Well, to phrase it better towards the truth, acceptance of defeat has never come easy.

There was always something more to be said, another excuse to be given for any of your shortcomings. When you’d been turned away from the school’s soccer team, you’d told yourself it was because you were a girl- ignoring the fact three girls in your year made the cut. When you’d lost an arduous game of Monopoly, you’d sworn you’d caught your sister sneaking notes out of the banker’s pile into her own. When you’d been beaten, round after round, by your own niece at Mario Kart, you’d stuck your tongue out at her and told her you let her win out of pity.

All that had been before, of course, back when you still roamed school hallways, when your sister sat across from you at the dining table, when your niece still laughed freely, wildly, celebrating her own victories with an over-the-top, uncoordinated dance around the living room.

As changed as things may be, defeat is still your foe.

It is that reason alone that you bite back a complaint.

You’d enjoyed the initial moments of your trek. Maybe it was the salty air in your lungs, or the beautiful views of your surroundings, or the idle grumbling coming from Joel, a few paces behind you, kicking up dirt under his feet with every step he travelled up. Whatever the reason, adrenaline had been flowing, into your heart and through your veins, covering every square inch of your body, a tingling of nerves from the tip of your toes to the top of your spine.

But, by the 10 minute mark, a dull ache forms in your feet. Each step of your heel feels more life threatening than the last, as the stairs grow slippier, dustier, and well-worn the further up you advanced. By stair who-knows-how-may, you take a near fatal tumble backwards, the crunch of crumbling rock threatening to be the last thing you hear. Till he appears behind you, fast as light, huffing out a breath as you smack down against his solid chest.

“Mind your step.” From anyone else, you would mistake it as a sign of care. From Joel, you know better than to think it’s anything beyond a humourless taunt.

You try to keep count of the steps, from then on, an effort to motivate yourself to move faster with each ten-pace you count. By 50, you lose your place and begin counting all over again.

The journey is difficult in other ways, too, with the constant passing of donkeys who obligate you to stand aside and make way for them. And the distant movement of cable cars, firing up and sliding down more times than you can keep track of.

When a particular step proves itself too steep, you can no longer hold back and, finally, a hiss slips out between your clenched teeth as pain shoots up your ankle, the leather of your shoe rubbing even harder into your brittle skin, threatening the promise of a blister yet to fully swell. Pushing the pain down, alongside a complaint, you take another step. Hiss. Then another, hiss. You can fight it no longer, bending at the waist to slip off your heel and examine the irritated skin.

Sure enough, it’s been rubbed raw, broken and spilling a small pool of blood.

Behind you comes an exasperated groan and, before you can straighten yourself to even register what’s happening, Joel barges past you and the figure of him up ahead slowly diminishes the faster he climbs up hill.

“Hey!” You call after him, hobbling to slip your shoe back on, but it’s to no avail.

He’s long gone, growing further and further out of your reach with each passing minute.

Cursing him under your breath, you decide to hell with the no complaints of his preferred regard for his own comfort. He’s abandoned you, injured and hobbling up the steps, all because he has the patience of a toddler who’s been waiting far too long to go potty.

“Wear somethin’ a little more sensible…” You’re bound to seem deranged to any passers by, half hopping up the steps, mumbling to yourself in a mockery of his deep voice “Yeah, right, how bout I shove somethin’ a little more sensible up your ass. Oh, what’s that? There’s no room up there with the massive stick you’re already carryin-”

“A local man warned me bout ya, on my way back down. Said there was some no-good girl casting out bad juju.” You freeze, foot stopped in mid-air. Shifting your gaze up ahead, you find Joel there, skipping a step every so often as he grows closer and closer. At his side, dangling from two fingers, sits a plastic bag. “Told him it ain’t no juju or curses you’re casting, just throwin’ a little tantrum.”

Like a fish out of water, all you can do is stare at him, wide eyes and mouth agape.

Joel pays your silence no mind, almost delighting in it. With a pop and a crack from his knees, he crouches down before you, holding out the palm of his hand.

“C’mon,” he mutters, pointing towards your injured foot. “Lemme see.”

You’re hesitant, at first, but ultimately lift it and let him curl his grip around it, holding you in place as the shoe slips off you. A tut meets your ears as his eyes meet the bloodied mess, and you watch how he contemplates, for a moment or two, before wetting his thumb with his tongue and swiping it over your broken skin.

It stings, like salt in a wound or a bee’s stinger through skin, and you try to flinch back, retract yourself from his hold. But Joel’s strong, resilient, nails biting at the flesh of your ankle to keep you in place. His free hand digs into the plastic bag he’d discarded at his side and pulls out a white box. Fiddling with it for a short period, he manages to open it at last and slips out a bandaid. He rips that open a lot quicker, using his teeth, and slips it over your open wound perfectly, thumb and pointer finger smoothing it around the curve of your heel.

“D’ya see now why I told you to not wear those things?” You feel like a child at his words, reprimanded like you once were for touching your mother’s curling iron. “And why I said we should take the cable car?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you refuse to meet his eyes. But he just won’t let you be, craning his own neck to infiltrate the space you stare off into. There’s a pleased look on his face, smugness pulling at the right corner of his mouth. Alarmingly, you think of how it’s the closest you’ve gotten to seeing him smile.

You continue your pursuit of silence, repeating a mantra of how you don’t care that he’d tried to look out for your comfort, or how he’d then tried to save you the effort of an uphill battle, or how his hand, big and warm and rough at the fingertips, is still holding your foot in place, absentmindedly rubbing your ankle in a circular motion.

“Look at ya, gone all quiet on me,” that corner of his lip curls higher. You register the rustling of the bag, his hand digging back inside it. “Ain’t one for bein’ put in your place, are you?”

Out comes his hand once more, though this time it’s not a box of bandaids. Now, resting firm in his grasp, sits a mixture of navy blue dyed cotton, stitched atop a flat, thick layer of a straw-like material. A slip-on canvas shoe. Joel doesn’t await permission, nor does he even ask for it. He simply takes charge, slipping it onto your foot, mindful as he straightens out the back to lay against your heel.

“Other foot, up.”

Switching feet, you stumble as your weight completely shifts onto your injured side. Your hands, reaching out to stabilise your swaying body, are quickly directed by his own to rest atop his head, curls of brown threading between your fingers. You contemplate asking what products he uses to achieve locks so smooth and shiny, then rethink it as soon as you imagine his reply of a disinterested grunt and a snarky ain’t use anythin’ but dirt water and a splash o’ whiskey.

“How’s it feel?”

Soft, you almost reply, then realise he’s asking about the shoe.

With a wiggle of your toes, you tell him it’s fine, and leave it at that. He doesn’t need to know they’re surprisingly comfortable.

Joel rises with a bit of a struggle, yet refuses the help you offer. Rough hands scoop up your discarded heels, tossing them into the bag, and then he straightens his back, lets out a noise of discomfort, before nodding up ahead.

“C’mon, only got a hundred or so to go. We’ll be up in no time.”

The sun sits high in the sky when you reach the city of Fira.

Crossing over that last step, 588 painted in white across it, you huff out a sigh, exhaustion aching you out of any enjoyment of your victory over the stairway from hell. Before you can even utter a word of your thirst, Joel is already reaching into his bag of wonders, unscrewing the lid off a bottle of water and passing it to you. Grateful, you take a sip, and lament the few drops that spill down your chin.

At least they don’t go to complete waste, cooling your skin ever so slightly.

It’s a shame to see Joel start moving again, moments before you’re even ready to gain back your breath, but you follow after him, nonetheless, mindful to not press your foot too hard down. Through streets he winds, past shopkeepers he walks. Eventually, after a few minutes, you ask him where you’re both heading.

“To catch a coach,” his hand moves quickly, tugging you closer as a bicycle shoots past behind you. Your own find themselves against his chest, and realise it is nothing like his hair. Solid, warm, wide. It’s almost a shame to lower them back down to your side. “Less you think you can walk from here to Oia, too.”

Truth be told, you don’t know where Oia is.

But you do know your walking for the day is over, happy to follow Joel onto the coach. You take the aisle seat, he’s by the window. Across from you both sits a couple, young and giggling into one another’s ears, as though the sounds of their joy is sacred to none but them. A pang of envy thumps your soul, and you quickly turn your face.

Only to find that Joel’s is grey.

Not the hair that lines it but, rather, his whole face, paled and blood-drained. It’s a sickly image, and one that’s quick to get your heart racing.

“Are you okay?” Any thought of keeping your composure becomes mute as you hear your own voice, a treacherous shake to it that gives your panic away. “You look…” There is no word kind enough for you to use to relay the image of him, so you lock your lips.

It takes a few seconds for you to get a reply, as your hand moves up to feel his forehead. It’s sweaty, warm, and you move to pull your hand back when he’s holding it firm in place, eyes slipping shut. “‘S cold. You’re cold,” seems to be his explanation. “I’m fine, it’s just- Carsick.”

“You get carsick, yet you work on a cruise.”

“Not the same. Ship’s big, somethin’ bout the size and my own visibility, ‘s what stops me getting seasick.”

You sit like that the rest of the coach, your hand pressed to his forehead, his eyes slipped shut.

“What’s your favourite stop on the cruise?”

As it turns out, Oia is exactly what you’d pictured Santorini to be.

White washed houses, deep blue domes for rooftops, turquoise waters, all for as far as the eye can see. Joel complains, more than tells you, of the rise in tourism over the years, of how it’s turned the beautiful village into a party-town for idiots abroad, disregarding the clean environment, shamelessly blocking paths to snap a frame-worthy shot, raising prices to the ceiling. When you ask him if he thinks he’s in part to blame, if people like him are to blame- running tours, bringing guests onto the island, earning a wage off the visiting of such a place- he grumbles out something about missing breakfast, needing lunch.

So you find a cafe. Or, more, Joel leads you to one. He greets the doorman, with a wave and a pat on the back, before sauntering his way through to a back terrace, overlooking the whole village, the water perfectly framing it. Stepping out and sitting down, the view robs the very breath out of your lungs.

It’s like sitting inside a postcard.

Joel asks if you like Greek food.

You tell him you’ve never had it.

He orders for you both, a mixture of different plates, and swears he’ll find something you’ll like.

It turns out you’re rather fond of baklava.

“Florence.” Joel’s taken his time to answer, staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. Disbelief more than fear in his eyes, you have to wonder if it’s the first time someone’s thought to ask him, in all his years as a guide. Naturally, this leads you to wondering how many years that is. “It’s a real site. Full of history, a real story to be told.” He tilts a ceramic dish your way, eyes glancing down in an offering. You follow them, and spot olives. Shake your head, no, then smile, thanks. He shrugs, more for me, and pops two into his mouth. “There’s this…” he pauses to chew. “This library.”

“A library?”

“‘S not just a library.” He slips out the olive’s pip and raises another into his mouth. You try not to think about how thick his fingers look, rolling the remaining briny green pebbles around in the pot. “There’s a cinema built inside it. Plays some classic films. I always- or, I try to go whenever we dock.”

It’s hard to picture Joel inside a cinema, something about the setting too busy, too loud to place his scowling face in. Would he be the kind to have a favourite seat, perfectly picked to optimise the sound quality? Does he speak animatedly, excited any time he recognises an actor? Or is he a shusher, the kind to roll his eyes when someone dares to even clear their throat?

A part of you wants to ask him if your tour involves a trip to this library.

Something tells you it’s not a place he likes to share, though. It’s his own little corner, safe to sneak a moment of selfish indulgence amidst a week of catering to another’s needs.

“A cinema inside a library?” A waiter interrupts you, asks if everything’s alright. Joel orders another serving of baklava. “Isn’t that a bit of an oxymoron?”

“Yeah.” For a moment, you think you see a smile creep across his lips. “Suppose it is.”

Another interruption comes in the form of your ringtone, rippling the water in your glass as your phone vibrates upon the table. You’re well aware of how Joel spots the word Mum displayed across your screen. Just like you’re aware he sees how you swipe down on your screen and switch on aeroplane mode.

Before he can ask any questions, or the sudden silence can become too deafening, you throw out another question. “And your least favourite?”

“Least favourite stop?” You nod, affirmative, and he needs no time to reply. “Here.”

“Here?! How come?”

The baklava arrives, as if on cue, and you point down at it, as though it is reason enough to be enamoured with the island. It seems to do little to convince him, his hand reaching out to push the plate closer to you, inviting you to indulge yourself.

“Compared to the other stops, Santorini’s bland.” He says it when your mouth is too occupied to protest, stuffed full with layer after layer of pastry. “Kind of like a diamond, y’know? Real pretty to look at, empties your wallet, and, at the end of the day, ain’t much you can do with it.”

“People propose with diamonds.” You point out, and cough as a flake of pastry hits the back of your throat.

Joel’s already passing you your glass of water before you even think to reach for it.

“People propose with rings. Diamonds are just custom, not a guarantee.”

Sunset arrives with no warning, a hue of fiery orange melting down into the calm waters on the horizon. It’s Joel who makes the call to head back, one glance at his watch enough to tell you the last chance to catch a coach is nigh. It’s only as you go to call for the bill that he tells you it’s covered and you realise his earlier trip to the bathroom had been a ruse to go pay.

The trip back is calmer, quieter, with the coach full of sunkissed and heat exhausted tourists.

Again, you take the aisle seat, and Joel, the window.

Keeping an eye on him is easy, switching your gaze towards the approaching darkness of the night sky calling upon the street lights anytime he meets your eyes. When you notice the increase in breaths and the paling of his skin, you wordlessly unscrew the cap off a bottle and slot it into his hand, inviting him to finish off the last sips of your water.

Skipping out on a trip down memory stairway, you quietly follow him into the cable car and, when you reach the Old Port, you try your best to block out his smug remark of how easy and fast the ride was. A feat which becomes easier as you stumble halfway up the dock and turn back.

Like hours before, as you first stepped off the tender, your mouth falls agape. Only, this time, wider. The view of the island lit up in all its glory is enough to leave you breathless, hands scrambling to fish out your phone, open the camera and-

“You gettin’ on or what?” Joel calls out from behind, and you find him waiting on board one of the tenders, hand held out towards you.

It’s a demand, more than it is an offer, to hurry up. The collective of other passengers are watching the interaction, and a feeling you’ve come to know all too well crawls its way into your veins.

A burden, holding them all up, that’s what you are.

The feeling follows you back, as you slip into a damp seat and watch as the boat carries you further and further from the island, it’s lights twinkling in a way that chokes you up, drains you out, eyes stinging from more than just the salty air. You’ll love it, I swear! The memory plays out in your head, those words gushed at you. Hands squeezing your cheeks, a smile blinding you under its brightness. Just wait till you see it at night, the lights shine over it like stars!

You blink.

A tear pools at the corner of your eye.

“Here, look,” something nudges you. It’s Joel, inching his phone into your view. Through blurred sight, you glance at it. And find yourself, centre frame, lit only by the moon. In the back lies the whole skyline of Santorini, lights reflecting down onto the waters below. “Best view you can get, the whole island in one shot.”

Afraid to hear your own voice, you smile.

He answers by pointing his phone back at you, snapping another photo.

Back on the cruise, the two of you part ways, with Joel telling you to meet him in the same bar, same time as the night before.

Dinner had been part of your plans. With a glance over the listed restaurants on board, the ache in your tired bones asks you to stay in bed and make use of the room service. You listen, order something light, easy. It arrives in under 10 minutes and your hunger is satisfied sitting out on the balcony, watching the dark waves roll past.

Phoning your mother is the next port o'call.

Unlike with your food, that takes longer than 10 minutes. Much longer, and involves you countlessly reassuring her that yes, you’re okay, and no, you don’t need her to fly out and meet you in Naples.

“I’m a big girl,” you even throw in a laugh, hoping it’ll ease the worry lines you can picture splayed over your mother’s face. “I think I can climb up a mountain without my mum’s help.”

“Honey, you know that’s not what why I’m worri-”

“Did you know you can get carsick but, at the same time, not seasick?”

You hang up shortly after, with a promise to try your best to answer when she calls tomorrow, instead of hours later, when she should be fast asleep.

The time on your phone tells you there’s still forty minutes until you need to meet Joel. The image of that grandiose bathtub flashes before your eyes and, in record timing, you’re sinking into scalding waters, a complimentary bath bomb dumped in and granting you the childish gift of bubbles.

You try to relax, at first.

There’s no need to wet your hair, so you indulge yourself. Lay your head back, close your eyes. Feel your muscles loosen with the warmth, ignore the sting of soap in your blistering heel. Your hands struggle to find a resting place, until they meet your thighs. They sit still, for a moment or two, before one slips down, inching into the crease of where your legs meet.

Something stirs in your core, comes alive as you think of how long it’s been since you last felt someone. A few months, it has to be. A fellow graduate, if you remember correctly, that stupid robe still on his shoulders as he let his mouth come down on you.

Your hand is soon on your core, before you really notice, mind on a mission to recall the hazy encounter. When you think of his tongue, messy yet eager, your finger’s already on your clit, pressing against it with a tease of pleasure. When you think of his cock, uncut and thicker than your ex, splitting you open on his bedroom floor, your hips cant up against yourself, chasing friction. When you rewind how soft Joel’s hair had been between your fingers, your free hand grips one of your breasts, fingers pinching at your nipple.

Your eyes snap open.

Joel’s hair.

Joel.

Something you should not be thinking of right now, hand buried between your thighs.

You wait a few seconds, remind yourself of the graduate’s face.

His blue eyes, your fingers roll over your nipple.

His blonde hair, your legs spread wider.

Joel’s solid chest, your fingers dip inside your cunt.

Your breath is shaky, Joel’s annoyed groan echoes.

The shame of it, of thinking of him, is almost as tantalising as touching yourself, fucking your own hole full with as much of your fingers the angle will allow. It’s a one time thing, you justify. You just need to get it out your system. One and done, cum and done. No more of Joel Miller between your thighs, this is the closest he’ll get.

Someone knocks at your door.

You nearly miss it over the sound of your breathing, the pounding of your heart.

“Who is it?” You don’t like how weak you sound, but it’s too late to take it back now.

Another knock.

“Can I come in?”

A hand still between your thighs, orgasm titering on the edge, body fully submerged in lukewarm water. “No!”

“Ain’t safe to leave your door unlocked. Anybody could walk in- Jesus!”

You’ve never screamed louder.

Joel takes up most of the bathroom doorway, same clothes save for the shirt that’s got two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms. You’re pressed right back into the bathtub, as physically far from him as you can get, knees pressed up to your chest, ankles crossed over.

In Joel’s defence, he’s quick to turn away, presenting you with a view of his back. A hand runs through his hair.

“Why are you in my room?!” You inch even further back, the water suddenly dropping several degrees.

“I asked to come in!”

“And I told you not to!”

“Well obviously I didn’t hear that!”

“Why are you in my room?” You’re back to your first question, eyeing up your towel.

It’s across the room, on the bathroom sink. No way for you to reach it without the risk of him seeing you reflected on something.

“You were late. Came to check if ya tripped on them heels and broke your neck.”

“I,” you’re not sure what time it is with your phone sitting by the bed, charging. That's now five times you've been late in adulthood. “Didn’t realise the time. I can meet you at the bar in ten minutes.”

He nods, and you watch him take a step, then immediately pause. “You know, I’ve heard a few things from passengers…” You may not see his face, but you swear there’s that half-smirk, smug look upon it. It’s practically dripping off his words. “The shower head, fourth setting. Seems to get the job done for most ladies on board.”

Grabbing the closest thing in reach- a bar of soap- you launch it and watch it bounce off his irritatingly wide shoulders. “Get OUT!”

You make it to the Tipsy Byson in 15 minutes.

Dressed more appropriately than the night before, your flared jeans and crop top garner less stares. It’s just as busy, if not busier, yet it’s not hard to spot Joel on a barstool, nursing a glass of something syrupy looking. Behind the bar is Luke, head thrown back at something Joel says.

They’re an interesting pair to observe, you realise as you make your way over. With Luke, so tall, so lanky, so bright-face, his energy warm and inviting, and Joel so- well, Joel.

“There she is,” Luke cheers, a little too loudly, calling attention to you as you slip into the stool next to Joel. “My new favourite customer.”

“Thought I was your favourite,” Joel’s yet to look at you, and it’s a relief. He’s looked at you enough for one day, one week, one lifetime.

“Sorry but she smells better than you, Joel,” the barman winks at you, a cheeky grin on his face. “ Plus, she’s a hell of a lot nicer to look at.”

Joel scoffs, you giggle.

“Not sure about the whole smelling better thing,” your response comes minutes later, after Luke’s already served you a glass of wine and turned away your cash, telling you he’ll put it on Joel’s tab. “But thanks!”

Unprompted and uninvited, Luke bends over the bar and takes an exaggerated sniff. “I don’t know, smell alright to me.”

“Really? I’m not even wearing perfume, I forgot to pack any-.”

“Yeah! Go on Joel, give her a whiff, tell her she smells fine!” There’s resistance on his end, but Luke’s adamant, hand clamped on the back of Joel’s head, shoving him face first into your neck. Joel’s nose brushes against you. You hear him inhale. Exhale. Inhale again, then the urge to cross your thighs begins to nag at you. “Well?”

“Yeah, smells nice- Fine. Ya smell fine.”

“Be still my beating heart! Someone alert the press that Texas said something other than-”

Joel interrupts Luke’s dramatics, scowl on his face. “Don’t you have a job to be doin’?”

Only once the bartender is down the other end of the bar, engrossed in a heated discussion over what beer pulls a better head, does Joel speak again, sipping on his drink. Whiskey.

“So I noticed somethin’, when I was checking your bookin’ info.” You nod, urge him to continue, and take a sip of your own drink. Some country song plays over the speakers and you notice a sudden shake in Joel’s knee, his foot tapping to the beat. “Says there should be two of you in my guide team.”

“Oh,” the lump forming in your throat falls safely back into the pit of your stomach as you take another drink of wine. “Must be a printing error. You know how technology can be, always complicating things.”

“Hmm,” it’s easy to write off the awkward energy between you with the excuse of earlier events, and it’s the first bright-side you find to him walking in on your intimate bath. “Well, you know the drill for tomorrow. 7 am on that deck or I’m-”

“Docking without me, I know.”

You finish your drink first. When Joel orders himself another glass, you smile politely and turn it down. Yawn, then tell him you best head to bed.

Before you can slip out the entry, someone calls your last name. Loud enough to turn more than just your own head.

It’s Joel, approaching you, effortlessly parting crowds through the lively bar as though he is knife and, the people, butter. The loud music seems to ring louder in your ear, impeding you from hearing the words that leave his moving lips.

“What?” You call out, hands clasped over your mouth in an attempt to amplify the volume of your voice.

His response is to step closer, hands holding you in place by the waist as he leans down. A hot breath on your neck, the smell of whiskey on his breath, the soft brush of lips against your ear.

“It’s your turn to bring the coffees.”

series taglist. @auteurdelabre

[bat-writer]

MAAM

we need a part 2 to the pregnant reader please and thank you 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Love your work btw!!!

A/N: i didnt think the lash would do so sweep but HERE WE GO! I also turned this into a mixture of head cannons and a regular fic

Warnings: descriptions of birth and delivery

You were actually overdue by a couple of days. Your baby was supposed to come during last week, but they decide to take their sweet time.

However, this meant it was just more strain on your body. Unfortunately I meant your back eight more your feet started to swell and you were honestly very ready to be over with the pregnancy.

The doctor had told you to move around as much as he can’t to try and get labor to start the barista shoes and wanted you to rest and not push yourself more than you had to

Finally on a rainy night you started to have contractions! It was felt more like a cramp and lasted for about a minute or so, so it was still a bit early

Bruce was up right away and ready to go but you stopped him

“Labor can take hours hun, especially for a first baby. Let’s wait it out a little bit and we can get going alright?”

You were WAY TOO CALM in this situation. Bruce was baffled. But, he listened to you and instead had asked Alfred to have the bags and car on standby for when you were ready

Bruce was very supportive and attentive to your every need. He’d squeeze your hips, massage your back and anything else thay would sooth the contractions

“Just let me know and we’ll be at the hospital in no time” he would whisper to you as he rocked you side to side

Once it was time for you to get to the hospital, he made a phone call that you were on your way. Of course, he was never wanted to be seen as someone who abused his power or his name, but in your case, he only wanted you to have the highest of quality in things

So he made sure to book the hospital suite with only the best labor and delivery nurses of your choice.

Yes, he actually printed out the resumes of the nurses in the hospital and let you choose😭😭

This is Bruce Wayne. Batman. This man was the embodiment of fear some wood, even say that he did not know what fear was very different. In fact, he’s never felt more fear than he does now looking at you. He knew that this is a process. The millions of women go through but he still couldn’t help but feel like a child not know what to do.

You were squeezing his hand and your eyes were squeezed shut while you were trying to ride out this contraction. Sure he’s seeing you during your period, and how it was painful, but this was a whole other situation where the pain continue to escalate, and all he can do right now to see if you was to give you support

Once you arrived at the hospital Bruce help you out of the car by one of the nurses rolled out a wheelchair for you to sit in. He followed the nurse closely as he try to keep a close eye on you if his predictions were correct, you should be about 4 to 5 cm dilated

“ your doctor should come in a few minutes to check on your dilation. Please feel free to get comfortable and hit the call button if you need anything.” the young nurse informed you as she rolled get you into your room, and handing Bruce your hospital gown. As he helps you to get dress he also takes time to admire. Of course, it was always tractor for him, but he was also admiring all the hard work you have done in the past nine months.

“ do I really look that bad that you’re staring at me that much?” You asked him

“ no, not at all. In fact, far from it” he said, with a smile when you kiss your forehead. “I’m just admiring my work is all” he quips

“Ha ha mister slick- oh oh ahhh” you he’s in pain as you lean on your husband for support. It was basically like leaning on a brick wall.

“That’s in just breathe. You doing great.” he tries to comfort you to which you respond.

“ easy for you to say…..you don’t have a babies head prodding…..at your vagina” you breathe out between

“ fair enough, darling. You’re right, but I know that you really are strong and you’ll get through this. The contraction lasted for about two more minutes. After that you felt completely zapped from energy. Bruce helps you get into bed in a few minutes later your doctor walks in.

“ hello Mrs. Wayne how are we doing today? Are we ready to have a baby“ she asks trying to lift the mood give her a very pinned thumbs up, and she completely understood. “ All right I’m gonna give you a quick check just to see how far we are in dilation.” She says before checking and measuring “ looks like you’re about 6 cm just 4 more to go! Let me or the nurses know if you need anything else. She dismisses herself from the room.

“Only 6?” You groan “ and here I was thinking that I was around 8” you chuckle

“ well, you said it yourself, these things take time, especially if it’s a first“ he then comes and sits next to you on the bed and brings you into his arms. You can always sense whenever you needed “tell me what is on your mind“

“… because this entire time I was kind of in a trance about the pregnancy. I didn’t really take time to reflect on what’s really happening“ he knew you way too well for you to try and fake it and say you were fine. So you had just came out with it “when I felt the first contraction that’s when it honestly started hitting me that it was time….. and that it’s really happening” you admit

“Yeah it is…” he said still just listening

“I Just….feel overwhelmed” you sniff as your eyes well with tears “i don’t know what I’m doing or what’ll be good or bad for the baby”

“ well let’s look at it this way you do amazing boys. You force moves. Are you awesome like a mother would. That doesn’t excuse your feelings and fears about becoming because it’s something scary.” he comforts you “ but you’ll have me and the boys every step of the way”

For the rest of the night you were going through the motions of each contraction. Your doctor came in every hour or so to check on you. the boys even stopped by while they were in patrol for the night! They said once the baby was born they’d come back to visit again. You really appreciate them for coming by and seeing you, it made it just a bit more bearable. You had made it up until 3:26 am when it was time to finally push.

Bruce held your hand as you pushed with any energy you had left. You had always heard about women who explain the birth story and how it was the worst pain they had ever felt. It’s not that you didn’t believe them but now you can completely confirm what they were saying. This had to be the most intense pain that ever felt in your life. You didn’t know if you wanted to cling onto Bruce and have him comfort you or curse out for him doing this to you.

Either way, he would have taken it because he knows you are in a position he could never really experienced. But he tried his best to support and comfort you through the process.

“ That was a good one you’re doing great” he’d encourage you as he wiped your sweaty forehead. He may have looked very calm and collected, and so he was absolutely freaking out. You were in immense pain, and he can virtually do nothing about it. Here you were in front of him, sweaty screaming, and crying. All he was doing was feeding you ice, chips, and water, and letting you squeezes hands. Take me as you want.

“ you’re almost there. I know you feel tired, but you’re almost there. It’s almost over.” in fact, was speaking half truths because you truly do not know how much longer until your baby was in the world with you.

“ I know this is difficult, but I know you’re stronger than this. On the next count push with everything you have.” of course yes remember you were married to Batman meaning he was gonna push you until you were successful. Course in a loving way because he just wants. And in this case it’s for your health, and the babies health.

“Aaaahh!” You push again and fall back on your pillow panting

“Breath hon, breath. You’re doing good” he encouraged you.

It took you about an hour and a half from that first push to get her out. You don’t think you would experience anything like labor and delivery again. While it was something scary, painful, excruciating…… It also turned out to be something wonderful.

You were in Gotham’s best hospital with your newborn baby girl laying on your chest. She was only taken off to be cleaned and weighed. She passed all of the health tests with flying colors. And from what the nurses say, she is a perfect baby. Bruce, of course following in observing their every move.  he loves you so deeply and his love for you only grew more and now it is shared with the person that was made with that love. He really could not ask for more.

Bruce was absolutely gobsmacked. He didn’t know what to say or how to react he just felt this immense, warm happiness and relief in his chest.

“Look honey…we have a girl” you smiled tiredly “she’s so beautiful”

“She really is…you are incredible. I’m so proud of you.” He complimented you laying a soft kiss to your lips.

“Here, why don’t you hold her?” You said lifting up the tiny human for him to take a hold of. His large hands supported her tiny body. The same hands that were used to fight crime no carry the life that he had made with you out of love.

Funny enough, she had the pout you claimed he did and that Damien got from him. You know that he looked at it he has to agree she does have his pout. But it looked better on her than it did him. She was perfect. Especially her eyes. She has your beautiful Y/E/C eyes, his favorite thing to look at

“did you make up your mind on a name?” He asked as he sat in the chair next to your bed.

“Well i was thinking of one but I could decide if you would like it or not” you answer

“Anything you pick will be perfect”

“Well. I thought Ila (eye-la) would be nice”

“I agree it’s a very pretty name,” he agrees

“But.” You add “I want her to have a middle name”

“Ans that would be?”

“..Martha” you smile “Ila Marth Wayne”

“Y/N…really? He asked with wide eyes. You wanted your daughter to carry his mothers name?

“Of course hon. It’s the least I can do”

Bruce looked down into his hands and saw how the entire world and multiverse slept peacefully in his hands. His beautiful Ila.

She was another reason he caught and became better for create a better Gotham

~🐈‍⬛

[writing-whump]

Hey Sol! 💫

It's the dessert question anon. I know this prompt doesn't really fit in the current situation but, later on, can we please get something with Arnie and Matt? We got all the other interesting or rather unconventional pairings like Hector and Matthew, Seline and Hector, Arnie and Seline, but we have yet to see those two truly interact 👀

Btw I don't think I have seen this emoji around, but if there is another anon who signs with this, please let me know and I'll change it asap!!

- 🍰

Haha that's a nickname with fun context. Dessert is all yours!!✨️ Thank you for the prompt💙

This is also the 💫100th💫 fic and the official start of the vacation arc🏖

100. Airport troubles

"Remind me why I have to tag along with you guys again?" Arnie said for like the third time as they made their way through the airport.

Matthew was walking behind him, so he rolled his eyes openly. God, the kid was a handful.

"You wouldn't want to get dragged into pup training, would you?" Seline said quickly. "This way, Isaiah can train Rip on the way, Dylan can learn some tricks and since Hector graciously offered to help-"

Oh yeah, Hector was oh so gracious. Maybe he just wanted to avoid the fucking airport.

Honestly, Matthew didn't know why he wasn't in the car either. He could help with training Rip? At least with the sparring part? And who was going to look out for Isaiah during the 4 day drive it took to Bulgaria?

And he could have skipped the crowd in the hall.

Though Seline picked the earliest flight as possible—they were already at the airport at 4 am—it was still crawling with people. Happy families, crabby teenagers, loud babies.

Matthew's skin was itching. He couldn't help rolling his shoulders back repeatedly and it took all his strength to not jump everytime someone bumped into him or walked too close on accident.

The only way to avoid people completely at Vienna Airport would be by climbing the ceiling.

Another elderly man bumped into him, nose almost touching his phone screen, eliciting a shudder from Matthew. Why didn't he ask Isaiah to roll his shadow for the flight? This was torture.

Seline's hand suddenly hooked around his elbow and she leaned her weight against him. "Look, that's our control check that way. We'll be out of here in no time."

Arnie also wore a constant pout, grumbling about not getting first class and being left out when his brothers were having fun.

Matthew suppressed a sigh as they got into the queue. Trying to be nonchalant, he leaned over to take a deep breath of Seline's ozonic grapefruit scent, the air brushing against her silver blond hair. An ancherpoint of familiarity in the sea of chaos.

"You'll get your cabin bag up on the stripe yourself. They will only touch it when they move it forward. Once it goes through the box, it's all yours," Seline said, side of her face brushing against his shoulder.

Matthew glanced towards Arnie, flushing a little. "I know." He had seen movies with airports before.

Arnie snorted. "What? You have never been to an airport before?"

Matthew flushed a little more. So he never had a reason to fly, big deal. Airports and stations and everything crowded was a challange for wolves. He preferred to drive, bike or take empty night trains over flights any day.

"Shouldn't you have gone with the pups after all?" Arnie teased as he expertly unpacked his laptop and tablet and ereader out the bag. Why did he need so many devices was beyond Matthew's understanding.

Seline had a delicate frown on. "Don't be mean now. Matthew didn't have proper wolf training in his pack."

Which didn't make Matthew feel any better. Arnie gave him another ridiculous look as he moved forward to get through the security check.

Matthew quietly fumed his way through the procedure, partly comforted and partly emebrassed by Seline waiting for him and hanging herself on his arm again.

"I have saffron drops for nerves," Seline whispered in his ear.

Matthew nodded tightly and looked away. He wanted to be able to do this on his own, no meds needed. Though Seline was their local medical expert, she also liked using lots of herbs and drops and natural remedies like teas and leaves whenever she could.

It would probably help. He could try taking it when Arnie was out of earshot.

They finally made their way to a row of chairs near the right gate that wasn't open yet. Since Bulgaria was Seline's family favourite destination she moved around the airport with practiced ease. Her parents even offered them to borrow three apartments they rented over the summer next to each other for free.

Matthew promptly collapsed on the chair nearest to the window, taking deep measured breaths.

Seline sat beside him, watching like a hawk. Her hand was firmly planted on his forearm.

Arnie eyed them critically. "You gonna be buzzkillers the whole time? We have at least a whole hour left. Let's get some breakfast."

Seline bit her lip in consideration. "We can get food and eat it here together. I'll bring you a croissant, Matt?"

Matthew grumbled, wishing Isaiah was here. Or anyone who would offer to get the food so that Seline could stay sitting like this next to him, shielding him from the masses of people.

Arnie's eyes glittered knowingly, but the snide twist to his mouth betrayed he wasn't up to feeling any sympathy.

Arnie wasn't a person to offer anything, even if he caught the hint. He was observant, Matt would give him that, but for all his insight and knowledge about wolves, he still opted to be provocative and mouthy instead. He knew how hard it made things and he still did it. What was up with that?

Was Arnie really that mad for not being able to go with his brothers, taking his anger out on them?

At least Hector was blunt and predictable in his remarks and challenges. Matthew could get behind that. Isaiah was a generous caretaker from his soul. None of them seemed as petty and jealous as Arnie.

"Meet you here in 20 minutes?" Seline suggested.

Arnie scoffed. "Not much time is that? I wanna check the boutiques and get a good coffee."

"It's half five in the morning," Seline said.

"All the more. We had to get here at this crapy hour for Mr Second here. I don't wake up before 10, thank you. If I am to function I need a frappe."

Fortunately it didn't take long for Seline to return with a plain croissant and some tea. She didn't mention Matthew stayed at the seats, sitting on his arms to keep his jumpy reaction and shadow in check.

Matt felt guilty for the service, but immensely thankful to have something in his stomach.

Arnie took way more than 30 minutes to get there, sporting a large transuclant plastic cup inside another one with the frappe and melting ice.

Seline wrinkled her nose. "You had two?"

Arnie shrugged. "How else do I survive? Maybe they will have coffee on the flight too."

"Did you at least eat anything?"

"No hungry. And what's that to you anyway? I'm 18, you know?" Arnie said in a tone like that really made him an adult.

Spoiled little brat. How did someone rough like Hector even manage that? Matt was definitely throwing that in his face when they saw each other.

"The gate just opened." Seline was squinting on the far away timetable screen, one of her hand resting on Matthew's knee. "We have priority seats, so we can go sooner if we want...but maybe you better enjoy the view a bit longer?"

"I'm gonna be fine. Closed up spaces aren't a big deal."

"Yeah, but there will be lots of people. Though the priority seats also mean we have more leg space and you can sit by the window-"

Matthew smiled, his hand coming to rest on top of hers. "Sel. It's fine. Thank you."

She nodded, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "You are doing great for your first time. I'm proud of you."

Matthew rolled his eyes, feeling his cheeks turn red as his hair again. "Don't-don't say nonsense, there is nothing to be proud of."

"If he was half his age, maybe," Arnie added. He sat a few seats away from them, fidgeting with the empty cups with jittery fingers.

Seline rolled her eyes and stood up. "Last bathroom break. I'll be right back."

Matthew had to chuckle at how she couldn't look at either of them as she said it, trailing away. Still so easily flustered about such things.

A loud rumbling gurgle caught his attention then. Since people lined up to the gate, it was just him and Arnie left in the row by the windows.

Arnie sat hunched over himself, staring at the ground like he was trying to burn it. He kept licking his lips, rocking back and forth a little.

It was Matthew's turn to snort. "Bathroom break for you too? So much coffee on empty stomach was so adult of you." Not that Matt never made that mistake.

"Shut up," the blond said. His earlier pouty high attitude burst like a balloon and he got pale as a sheet in just a couple of minutes.

The kid rocked back and forth again, shaking the backpack off his shoulders and hugging his stomach with both hands. "Ow, okay, that hurtsss."

"Stupid," Matthew said, leaning back in his seat. "You better hurry up before you shit your pants. Plane's leaving soon."

"Asshole," Arnie said. His blond curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat. He shot up to his feet, leaving his bag behind and sprinted towards the bathrooms.

Matthew grinned to himself, pleased with how fate got back at the kid for him.

...it wasn't that funny half an hour later, when the last call for passengers appeared. Matt and Sel stood at the gate, looking around themselves in hopes of spotting Arnie.

"Damn this timing," Matthew complained, Arnie's backpack now thrown over his shoulder beside his own. "Think you can talk with the attendant to wait a bit more?"

"Can't hurt to ask. But we better not split up anyway. We can always take the next flight."

"And let the tickets go to waste?" Matt grimaced. "No way. I'm gonna drag that kid over. Just don't fly without me."

He left the bags at her feet and made his way to the bathroom, glad he knew which one Arnie went to.

When he entered the surprisingly large white room with rows and rows of stalls, he was greeted with the horrible retching sound and a liquid splash.

"Arnie? You in here?" Matt headed to the stall with the noise, knocking on it.

"G'way," Arnie groaned.

Matthew sighed. "No can do. Come on, kid, we're gonna be late."

Another loud belch and more liquid splattered inside the bowl. Matt pushed against the door experimentally, finding it open.

Arnie was hunched over the toilet, a large sweaty stain in the middle of his back. The foul smell had Matthew's hair standing up.

He crouched down behind the boy, trying to get a glimpse of his face. "Still bad?"

"My stomach's fucking killing me," Arnie whined in the most undignifed manner, spitting into the toilet. His nose and eyes were running, his face a mix of liquids.

"You can sit at the plane and heave over an airsickness bag too. You can't have anything left there, it was just the coffee-"

Arnie's back heaved violently at the word and he gagged over and over the bowl like crazy. A meager but chunkier gush came out. He suddenly pitched to the side.

"Fuck, no you don't-" Matt was glad for his reflexes as he caught Arnie from behind.

"...dizzy."

"That's some serious sugar low," Matthew grumbled. It felt awkward to touch Arnie. He felt very strange to Matt's shadow and he wasn't exactly thrilled to be sitting in that small space with him.

Matthew gathered some toilet paper and handed it over, steadying Arnie with a hand on his shoulder.

Arnie blinked at him in confusion, accepting the papers and blowing his nose loudly. He was very noise for his small stature.

The big green familiar eyes in the foreign face felt even weirder to Matthew.

Arnie moaned pathetically, letting the crumbled paper fall on the floor and curling around his middle again. By the loud growls it was making, even on empty it was still plenty upset.

"Want some water?" Matthew tried.

Arnie gagged at the mention, pressing his chin against his chest. He shut his eyes again, face drained for colour even more.

"Shit," Matt muttered. He flushed the toilet then brought the larger towels for hands, cold with wet water and pressed them against Arnie's forehead.

"J-just go ahead. I'll catch up. Next flight's in six hours and I have-" he burped, eyes still shut, "I have the money, it's fine."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "That's what you would deserve, you little prick. Whatever. Not gonna leave you like this. You absolutely sure you can't go yet? It'll probably let up in a bit."

Arnie shook his head. "C-can't. My insides feel like they are about to fall out."

Matthew grimaced and nodded. "Okay. It's fine. I'm gonna text Sel about, ehmm, the situation. She probably has some herb drops to help, if you want."

Arnie opened his bleary red-rimmed eyes. "You really don't have to stay."

"Shut up. Who do you think I am? Ain't gonna leave Isaiah's little brother behind when sick."

Arnie snorted, face relaxing a little. "Not cause Hector would have your head?"

Matthew scoffed. "I'm not afraid of that idiot, stupid."

[amemenojaku]

I saw umineko stage ep3 today!! it was amazing. the quality level is insane. I got goosebumps several times and it even managed to make me tear up... everyone's performances felt like they all know their characters so well now 🥺🙏 the lights, costumes and choreography were all perfect too

some thoughts (major umineko spoilers obviously):

young eva/evatrice's performance in particular was just. literally perfect? the way she delivered her lines, carried herself, her laugh resounding onstage and the little things she did when she wasn't the center of attention were all 100% in character. she was adorable during the ceremony where she becomes the new beatrice, introducing herself to the goats and giggling w the 7 sisters, and she was absolutely terrifying in rosa's and maria's death scene. also mad props to the costume designer(s) who did her sailor outfit that turns into the witch outfit almost instantly

everything beato's actress did had me go :] there's a lot of cute beato scenes in ep3 and she was adorable in the goofy, endearing way og beato is in the story while still being cool and fun when needed in the other scenes

and last but not least eva's actress did an amazing job too, especially during the emotional scenes of her character (when she solves the riddle, finds the gold, hideyoshi's & george's deaths). her lungs' strength is impressive lol. it's been 4 hours and I still clearly remember her screams

overall I loved the way so many of the actors and actresses would just do little things when they were on stage but not in the spotlight/not talking, like the chiesters whispering in each others bunny ears instead of their human ears/covering their bunny ears because of loud noises, or the 7 sisters just jumping around and messing w each other, maria taking her notebook out of her bag and reading it, etc. they weren't just standing doing nothing and it always felt very in character, too. there was always something new no matter which part of the stage you're looking at

rudolf's actor looked and acted like he came straight out of a yakuza movie? ik he was already like that in the previous episodes but for some reason I felt it even more this time. might be because of the fight against the sisters before he and kyrie die (which was probably my favorite action scene btw. really cool choreography). I'm not complaining though. made me like the character even more

speaking of rudolf. at some point during one of the scenes where the adults discuss beato's first letter, he just... started massaging hideyoshi's shoulders? he did that for at least a full minute before hideyoshi's actor nodded as thanks and he stopped. I have no idea if this was part of the script or if the guys just decided it on their own??

when gohda does his night check of the mansion right before his death he was actually walking in the aisles with his lantern before he got up on stage!! he got to tell a joke and do some fun stuff before being killed and never being relevant again. rip

beato asking battler to give her a new name now that evatrice inherited hers, ronove on the side of the stage writing a stupid nickname on some paper to show her only for her to get annoyed, rip the paper from his hands and stomp on it

I don't know if this was done on purpose or not, but when eva fires the shot that blinds jessica and jessica accuses her of being the culprit, pointing at some random direction since she can't see anymore, she actually pointed at shannon's corpse on the sofa behind her. it could very well just be a coincidence. but. yea

krauss drinking straight from the fucking bottle during the golden land party scene at the end and getting completely smashed

ange!! she was so cool and cute. she punched the goats. I can't wait to see her in ep4 😭

battler literally Just Standing There at the very end, when ange and beato start duking it out before the episode's over 🧍

the curtain call was super cute. everyone got together to pose for the cameras before they realised beato wasn't here so they had kinzo cry for her in the infamous kinzo way and she graced them (and us) with her presence :)

battler's actor: "so we'll need your support -and- your gold for episode 4 to happen"

cat nanjo be upon ye

[judysxnd]

Hi .

I have an idea for pedro × reader

They came back from a party and as they qre still in their fancy party clothes, they start dancing slow in the living room . In my head it has romantic blue light. Idk . Just describing...

Love your writings BTW

Thank you! I absolutely LOVE your request! But I don’t know why I can’t write it how I want. It doesn’t end as I wish it would. I had to write it twice as I didn’t really like the first story I wrote. I hope you still like it! I really struggled even though I really liked the idea. Idk why 🤷🏻‍♀️

I swear this gif, it makes me feel feral, it does things to me. He is so hot.😮‍💨

——————————————————————————————

Today was a big day for Pedro. It was the Oscars. Not only he was going, but he was also presenting an award. And what makes it even bigger is that you were going with him. You were always nervous when you accompanied him, all the attention, the questions, the flashes, it was a lot, and it never stopped for the entire event.

The Oscars are a bigger event, the biggest you attended to. You spent the entire afternoon getting ready. Even if you were nervous, you couldn’t wait to finally wear your dress. It was beautiful. It was a long wine red ball gown, with pearls all over it, so magnificent. You got to feel so confident wearing fancy clothes for those events.

You were standing in front of the mirror in the hotel room you were staying in with Pedro for the night. As he was getting ready in the bathroom, you were in the bedroom. Make up done, getting dressed done, hair done, you were ready. You turned around to see the entire outfit done, as Pedro walked in.

“Woah, princesa, eres hermosa, magnifica, it leaves me out of words” he said, leaning against the wall next to the mirror, eyeing you up and down. You smiled, blushing through his comments. You stared at him for a second.

“You look not so bad too” you laughed

“Not so bad?” He walked a little closer. “Are you kidding me?” He went in front of you to look at himself in the mirror, hiding you. “I look amazing!” you laughed

“I was just kidding, you look perfect” you wrapped your arms around his waist, looking at him through the mirror. Next thing you knew, you were walking out of the hotel, and getting in the car to the Oscars. The Oscars. It seemed unreal just to think about it.

You finally made your big entrance. Pedro went first, but you were close by, and after all the individual pictures were taken, he never left your side. One you were sat, you were feeling better, the big moment was done, you just had to sit through the show. Of course at some point Pedro had to leave to present the award. He really looked perfect. He made it look so easy. After giving you a few glances during his presentation, he left the stage and went back to you.

One moment you couldn’t wait for was the after party. Everyone was there. You could see the other side, how everyone is during a party, stuff you usually do not see on tv. And you had your fun. You talked to a lot people, trying not to fangirl too much around certain celebrities, drinking with them. You also danced a lot with Pedro. The music was good, loud enough, everyone was dancing, and hell, if something would happened, you would not be the one remembered, with all those famous faces around you.

After drinking maybe 4 or 5 cocktails, Pedro and you were ready to go home. It was around 3am and most people were leaving already, so you went back to your hotel room.

“It was a fucking great party” you said, taking your shoes off as you turned the lights on.

“Yeah, I think I’ve never danced that much” he laughed

“Me too! We will certainly feel it tomorrow”

“Don’t talk to me about it” Pedro closed the door, and changed the color of the lights to a dark blue, to both calm you down after the party.

“Hey, are you tired?” You asked

“Hmm, not really, why?”

“I was thinking we could have one last dance” you said, putting your bag on the bed. You took your speaker that was on the nightstand and connected it to your phone, putting “Us” by Movement.

“Oh a slow dance” Pedro said getting closer to you smiling. He took your hand, pulling you even closer to him, his right hand going on your back, while your left hand was on his. You put your head against his chest, listening to his heart beating.

“You were amazing tonight” you said, breaking the silence. Pedro kissed your head.

“Thank you mama, you were too” you were both smiling. Then you stopped talking, just enjoying each other’s embrace. You closed your eyes for a few seconds, smelling his cologne. You felt Pedro rest his head on your, which made you smile. How he loved the smell of your shampoo mixed with your perfume. It sends him over the edge.

Is this what heaven is like? Random romantic moments like that, where you were close together, giving you butterflies in your stomach. It felt surreal, feeling each other’s bodies in the most romantic way.

“We should do this more often” Pedro whispered.

“Agreed” you smiled. You put both your arms around Pedro’s waist as he put both of his around your back, his left hand caressing your head, playing with your hair. It made you shiver. “I love you so much Pedro” you said against his chest

“I love you more mi corazón”

The song was about to end, but you didn’t want to move. Pedro stepped back, holding your arms. He looked at you, before making you spin around. You both smiled.

After that, Pedro cupped your face, and kissed you passionately. The next song started, which was completely different and louder than the one before. It both scared you, making you laugh as you ran to pause it.

“I hope we didn’t wake up the people next to us” you said

“As if we cared” he laughed, coming behind you, kissing softly your neck. “Come on, let’s get change. Even if you look amazing in this dress, I want to see you without it” he smirked. You slapped his arm, laughing as you both walked to the bathroom.

After you changed, you actually ordered something to eat, and you spent the rest of the night (or we could say morning) watching a movie, both ending falling asleep after 30minutes.

[the-faceless-bride]

OMGGG WAIT TWDG REQUESTS R OPEN IM, I don't write 4 them but I sure would if i found people who like this masterpiece, I'm sending in a request feel free to not do it if u dont have the in sports, just let me know 👀

okay so may i request maybe fluff headcanons w Luke (my man😫)

btw im so sorry again for almost blocking u but we have lots of fandoms in common and i think we could get along pretty well- i swear im not mean💀

It's really no problem, I'll be careful not to spam like before. I'm sure we'll get along great too! 🦇💖

Luke TWDG Fluff Hc

You met in Winter, you were scavenging around before it got dark making sure no one was around and if there were any hidden supplies around.

That's when you spotted a man crawling his way out of the frozen lake, seemed like he fell in and was desperately trying to get out. You pondered for a moment, you didn't know this man... He could be dangerous. He could have been part of a dangerous group, but then again you didn't know if you could spare anytime it was getting dark quickly.

But when he spotted you and you stared at each other, you looked at his brown eyes, his wet hair, and finally his blue-tinted lips.

He was gonna freeze to death if you didn't help... And you would feel guilty if he did and you didn't try to help even a little.

Now here you and Luke were, you both wandered around and found a small home that even had some small bags of food that were still good.

He definitely told you about his old group, about how they were trying to make it to a house but he ended up falling through and thought he was done for.

He honestly thought he was too

He likes to talk about the two young girls he considered to be his 'little sisters' Sarah and Clementine were their names, and he laughs about how sweet yet scary Clem could be sometimes when he was in that group.

Sometimes he has nightmares about what happened in his group with Carver/Bill, about Kenny and his Eye, Sarah and her dad, Beca turning... He fears what happened to Alvin, and how worried he is about the group with the new baby.

He likes to be cuddled on those nights, he curls in on himself and lets you wrap your arms around him.

Luke can be very playful, he likes to play races with you when you both do anything that involves traveling, mostly when you are scavenging.

Luke doesn't like the idea of moving camp, even though the little house you found has some unrepairable damage and food is getting low he hates the idea of traveling after what happened to his group when they had to leave their home

Luke loves when you kiss his forehead as comfort and he always kisses your nose in response back to it.

Ok, I would write more but the HCs are all random I will do a better Hc for him that has a bit more structure, I hope this is fun to read anyway. 😭

[panderghast]

I have maybe a pinch of hope left...

Cause like, I have sooooo much to give. And it seems like everyone wants a piece of it, but nobody wants to give anything back. They want me to be dirty, as long as I can wash myself clean again of course (my goodness). They love how quirky I am! Until I need to tone it down, oh my gosh it's mortifying. Why would I wear that in public, say that out loud? I'm going to walk away from you if you do that, I swear to god don't embarrass me. I have strong values and morals; unless we disagree. Then I become stubborn and unpleasant while I defend my opinion and you drown out my voice with your cynicism and ego. I can't even talk about what's bothering me, it's a personal attack on them exclusively. Lord have mercy it is actually about them, because suddenly they do nothing right and nothing is ever good enough for me and they just can't lose me, they can't!

Honestly, I'm also tired of playing into the thought of basic decency being my reward? I'm not your good girl. I'm not a dog. You aren't a dom, and I'm not a sub. I don't owe you that privilege just because you saw me naked and you put your hand on my throat while you fucked me. You don't know the first thing about BDSM, and you can't even tell me the definition of a kink. So why do you think this is a turn based game instead of a bonding exercise around consent? Don't touch me.

The thing is, I want to let someone in. I want to express deep and passionate love. But I am constantly misguided. I am lead to believe these men tell the truth, and then once I get comfortable in their embrace and I feel safe they constrict me like a snake until I stop breathing. My heart is treated like a possession, not a delicate gift. I'm a conquest in some sick subjugation, not a prize to be displayed and discussed and proud of. I'm a very fun toy to have, but I'm like a sports car - but they can't use me everyday, that's why they have their family car and I'm in the garage; they can only take my out when its convenient or they're feeling nostalgic or frisky. All I was asking for is maybe some recognition? A little appreciation, some attention? Maybe give me half as much thought as you did to your Baldur's Gate 3 character. Or, I suddenly turn into their mother and I get to experience all the Freudian bullshit that they packed in their bags and dragged around with them from house to house. I must be able to teach them all the things their lacking, right? I mean, after all I'm raising 4 kids successfully on my own and maintaining a house and budget without help and I do all these wonderful things like cook and clean and make art and I can still love so freely. Wow! I'm a goddess. I'm so special, unique, incredible, astounding...So, that's something that I can share obviously. It must be a secret, a technique I've perfected through all the trauma and opportunities life has given me. If I could only support them a bit...emotionally, spiritually, financially, sexually, physically, mentally...teach them how to take care of themselves since they never bothered to learn. Then I could make them a good partner. For me, of course! ...But I have to make sure I share their interests because mine are a bit boring, they don't get it it's too much information to follow, this cartoon is kind of childish don't you think, what is this a romance, I don't really understand old horror movies they're so badly made...but hey, have you seen the entire Marvel collection? Don't worry, I'll make sure to ask you questions on everything you do like that coincides with my interests to make sure you're telling the truth. Oh wait, make sure that I don't go out without them too much, they'll feel lonely. Why is my phone going off so much? I'm so paranoid about shutting my laptop when I'm done, omg can I stop doing that why don't I leave it open. Hey, they're out of body wash and shampoo btw. Ah, shoot, can I help them clean up because they're just so tired. Can I cover this bill, order this food, get these drinks cause they ran out of money? We haven't gone out in a while...oh it's because I'm not paying or planning for it anymore and the last time you did anything was March? What the fuck do you mean you don't vote? What the fuck do you mean you think feminists are annoying? What the fuck do you mean I emasculate you, I wasn't even talking to you, I was talking to my son about doing his homework or else he would end up living in his friends apartment sleeping on a mattress on the floor with no sheets and his winter coat on cause they couldn't afford the gas bill working a dead end job at a fast food place cause he has no skills...but if the fucking shoe fits, my guy. 🙄

[succulent-ghoul]

Welcome to the ministry

The welcome to the ministry fic I was talking about. Haha.

Lil note in this fic the papa statues aren't memorials their just like lil history things for education so the old papa's are still alive :3

Description: your a reporter breaking into the ministry that runs the ghost project too bad things don't exactly go as planned. Cliffhanger ending btw.

--

This was going to be easy, just break into the old ministry that's in charge of the ghost project and find/copy all of their available documents and show your boss. Their ministry is under renovations so it's not like you'd have to worry about being caught. Atleast that's what you say to quietly try and reassure yourself as you look around the old building for an entrance.

You crawl in through a small-ish window and find yourself in a surprisingly barren room, though considering the place is under renovations, maybe it's not that surprising. You look through the room taking photos of the place and some stray documents.

Rifling through the documents you can find you see a few that look important and after reading through them you shove them into your bag. A few documents going missing during renovations wouldn't be strange, you reassure yourself. Before you know it you've rooted through the entire room and found quite a few interesting things, but there could be more.

Gently pressing at the large wooden door it opens up to a swath of stone. 4 large statues look on at eachother and one empty pedestal lies at the end of the others. Stepping into the frigid room and looking around produces a surplus of notes all over, mostly filled with gossip and rumors, like the papa's favorite music.

You sneak around which contributes to nothing but your peace of mind. Looking at the nearest wooden door and putting your whole weight into opening it. It reveals what seems to be a dusty storage closet. It's filled with an assortment of old and probably broken amps and speakers along with a few filing cabinets. You immediately rummage through them looking at old documents taking some but mostly just photographing them.

Eventually your bag is just about filled with files and this should be enough to please your boss. But you aren't satisfied, you had to break into this place why only still old files? Boss would be pretty happy with something more. Quietly you leave the closet and run around searching for an office to pillage.

Luckily the next door you open leads to a grand office. It's filled with dark oak and mahogany furniture. Bookshelves line the walls and you can't help but stop in awe. There's a beautiful dark green silk rug under your feet and you can't help but feel bad for tracking some dirt on it. Stepping back you shake your head and get back to work.

You wind around the desk and sit in the plush velvet chair, you open up the drawers and root through them. Finding little books and shoving them into your bag, you feel a sense of urgency like any second your gonna get caught. Unfortunately you already had been.

Your half way through rooting around the last drawer when you hear the door open and the close. You freeze. And before you know it your being pulled up by the back collar of your shirt and you can feel panic rising in your chest. You don't run, you don't fight, you just sit and wait for the inevitable. You look up and see one of the old papa's, you realize you stumbled into his office. And you were caught rummaging in his desk.

"You do understand just how much trouble you are in Piccolo ladro?"

[elysia-nsimp]

Tagging: @queerlordsimon @thesunshineriptide @aetherphobia @end3rm1st @ladyzsgolla (lemme know if you wanna be tagged)

Hiiii this is a long one because. Yknow we say a lot of weird shit.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 6

Uhhh CW: cursing, joking mockery, threats of violence (all joking I prommy!!), sexual innuendos

——

Idia: YOU CALL THIS A NETHER FORTRESS? IT'S MORE LIKE A NETHER APARTMENT

——

Lilia: I want to sit in the fire chair and I want to touch the disease book

——

Floyd: Btw I got some candy you want some 🍬🍭

Azul: Did you check for blades?

Floyd: yeah

Floyd: no blades but I found this 🥄

Azul: Is that a spoon???

Azul: Who puts spoons in candy??

Floyd: cool people with vans apparently

——

Cater: My illness is that I like men

——

Floyd: I will break ur spine with my love

——

Sebek: All of my family members got the talent of art but I didn't.

Silver: I dunno, that was a pretty good dog you drew earlier

Sebek: Oh come on, don't even go there, you know better

——

Ace: the opposite of formaldehyde is casualdejekyll

Deuce:

Ace:

Cater:

Deuce: get out

——

Jade: Eyes are kinda like Jewels. which Is why I like to collect them :)

——

Leona: I'm way too stoned to go into the danger zone

——

Floyd: Loafers, loafers, loafers, loafers. . I have an eye for loafers

Azul: I can tell

Floyd:

Azul:

Floyd: loafers-

——

Ortho: That's why I got the party sized bag of Doritos

Azul: Idia is his own party.

Ortho: He is his own party

Azul: Do you just bring the party with you where you go?

Idia, deadpanned: that sounds draining.

——

Crewel: The Overhead Sun is when the sun is overhead. DO YOU HEAR ME? T H E O V E R H E A D S U N I S W H E N T H E S U N I S O V E R H E A D.

——

Ruggie: but what if I want to eat the hunger

——

Lilia: Dead sucks. Just ask, well, nobody because they're dead

Lilia: haha, dad jokes

——

Ruggie: I'm so hungry I could eat my own hunger :))))

——

Savanaclaw Student B: what's a single kid gonna do?

Yuu: a lot, actually. i plan to take over the world, catch all the legendary Pokemon, overthrow the champion, and whoop your ass

——

Lilia: Okay Malleus, what did we learn about awakening the ancient ones?

——

Idia: I will not accept Sans' banana.

Idia: WAIT THAT SOUNDED BAD

——

Ace: When I die I want to be baked into a chocolate cake alive

——

Floyd: We have that psychic connection, we're just built different

Jade: …yeah

——

Lilia: What if Bigfoot takes off his fursuit before making fudge

Trey: I don't think Bigfoot making fudge naked will make me want to buy it more

Lilia: Who said he was naked????

Trey: He took off his fursuit!

Lilia: People usually wear clothing under their fursuit?? Like underclothing??

Trey: Still don't think I want bigfoot making my fudge

Lilia: I love that we're skipping past the fact that I am insinuating that bigfoot is a furry

Trey: Ehh…

——

Lilia: Consider this: Bigfoot is just Mr. Clean's fursona

Jade: I could see that– the psychology in that-

Jade: Being so obsessed with cleanliness that you revert to the total opposite, living in the woods; the wild, being one with the dirt. .

Lilia:

Jade: Hey look at these nice shoes!

——

Grim: Imagine waking up in a strange new world and looking inside the bag that was given to you upon waking up only to fucking find human ears

——

Jade: I would never threaten a moose. An elk on the other hand, I'd fuck it up.

——

Floyd: Heyy, you want some candy? They're good. A dollap something, a Squirmy... ooh! And this one's my favourite! It's from the floor

——

Floyd: Now THOSE were some slurpy tentacle sounds

——

LilIa: aaAAAUSGHHHSHHHHHHHNNNNNNGgggGerrrrrrr. . . That's what creativity sounds like, trust me

——

Idia: I don't know if I should say 'Im happy to inform you' or 'I regret to inform you,' but I must inform you that I'm back in my fnaf phase

——

Ruggie: head empty. only primal instincts. and shiny things.

——

Ruggie: I am here only for picking flowers and shiny gems

——

Azul: And now. . ... . when I look in this chest. .. I will see all of my treasures.. .. ..

——

Azul, chasing a rooster: Sir? SIR! Sir do you have time to talk about extending your car's warranty??

——

Floyd: Ok I'm done being angsty now.

Floyd: I will now be *horny-*

——

Epel: Speaking of precious, [breAKS INTO A COUGHING FIT]

——

Ace: Skate fast, eat ass

——

Trey: Do you need glue?

Cater: If I need glue I will cry.

——

Idia: Emotions are wack [finger guns]

——

Ace: Jesus my hands are dry... they just like.... snorted.. .... the lotion I put on them.. ... ..

——

Deuce: Okayy let's see how well I can do my math homework after having a mental breakdown!

[Deuce looks at the nonexistent camera]

Deuce: Dw it was for an English assignment

——

Yuu: Guys, I have an important question for you

Overblot crew: what

Yuu: are you okay, like, mentally

Overblot crew: what kinda stupid question is that? of course not.

——

Ace: British people actually exist?

Riddle: Yes

Ace: Damn, that's crazy

——

Floyd: It's like being a halloween stripper except they throw candy at me instead of money

——

Grim: Ooh, free soul! – hoLY SHIT HOLY SHIT TOO MUCH SOUL TOO MUCH SOUL

——

Ace: I was born to kick ass and take names, I'm not just gonna stop bc some adults told me to

——

Yuu: I have a history of befriending bastards

——

Yuu, at Floyd: "oh boo hoo, I'm so tall I can touch the ceiling 😭😭"

——

Lilia: I mean I got a violin case and you don't see me putting baby corpses in it

——

Ace: Is thay the one were Jesus rose from the tomato soap

Trey: what

——

Floyd: THIS IS WORSE THAN THE TIME I ACCIDENTALLY ATE A POISONOUS PLANT OUTSIDE OF MCDONALD'S

——

Kalim: I befriended a gravy monster

——

Floyd: Fuck you. Eats dice.

——

Cater: If you avocado squeezes back, it means you are happy

——

Floyd: It’s like a slip n slide on a warm summer’s day. Expect its November and you’re sliding in your own liquids.

——

Jade: Look out Floyd, the babies are poisonous

——

Deuce: His parents was Greek

——

Jade: Set the temperature to 420 degrees F and let it cook for 2-3 business days

——

Azul to the twins: You don’t have to eat everything that disagrees with you

——

Ace: how old were you when you were eleven?

——

Deuce: evaporation is the process of elimination

——

Rook: goats are the gateway to aromatherapy

——

Rollo: the children must be burned

——

Floyd: chicken octopus legs

——

Deuce: but blue and orange make purple, so…

——

Hope y’all like these lmao

Another one is in the works already, be prepared 😄

[usagiverse]

Vesper-sama! Hell-o!

I was thinking, the turtles have the turtle pile, and we saw how the twins sleep together... but all usagis have a usagi pile? maybe in winter?

I have questions for the comic too, the ninja who marked Yuichi said "I smell" not see, why?.. and just in the next panel "jolt" ...but maybe is spoiler, so not problem if you can't explain

Btw the draw on fire is better...more dramatical? yes sir is better... and thanks, Yui-san looks cute with the strawberry sticker

Bunnon, I don't have energy or soul in this moment, but missed you and usagis... take care of yourself Vesper-sama

Usagi Pile! That’s right. Please take note of how “beds” are actually more like bean bags ;) It’s flexible, it’s circular, and there’s more surface area the more you put weight on it, so it fits more than it seems. Some have fluffy tops, some are just normal, and others might be fluffy all over— depends on how they like it, I suppose.

The twins grew up mostly alone with just the two of them and have each other’s backs at all times, so there isn’t a night they aren’t sleeping on each other. Yuichi snores the loudest and lays in the weirdest positions, while Shuji manages to sleep through a thunderstorm, so they’re kind of perfect for each other… Yui also knows exactly how to wake Shuji up if he needs a quick response from his brother, so he technically just lets Shuji sleep in. When they start living with Mizuki it causes a small, teeny tiny problem…

When Miyamoto is born, his parents are more than willing to pile. Yuichi joins in and Mizu can’t even protest, he’s related so he deserves it, and still living with them so he might as well. It starts to be more normal to sleep in 4 since Miyamoto is too young to be left alone. Once he’s old enough to have his own bed, they don’t pile as much except for winter or when he has a nightmare. Yuichi, at this point, learned to sleep by himself, so he doesn’t bother Mizu or his brother anymore. He might bother Miya sometimes, in Yuichi fashion. “Ohhh, My Nephew, I can't sleep~!” He would see if Miyamoto was awake. No response? Yuichi just ever so slightly worms himself over to the bed and lays on one end of it. There was a response? Yuichi would bellyflop onto Miya’s bed, which obviously gives Mizuki a heart attack if she heard about it, but it’s funny for the other two. Then they goof off, Yuichi would have done his job for the day, and they either sleep like that or he goes back to his room if Miya requests privacy.

Sorry, that was already so long and there’s still another part to your ask lol..

Dear Bunnon... errmmmm can you see their eyes ? ? I can't ... maybe it's just me but a giant metal plate over the entire half of the head might hinder vision just a little bit ! maybe you see something I don't, though.... or smell... (I drew this on my phone forgive me, my hand wants to rest but I wanted to draw anyway) In all seriousness though, yeah, they might be a little bit blind ! Also note the wording in this panel hmhm

"HAS AN HEIR." It's singular. The Ninja is actually.. unaware of Shuji's presence. Oh, and they're a lynx! Might make them a tag, they're really interesting to draw. I won't tag them by name since that would be a spoiler, but maybe #Lynx or #NNC Lynx or something would work? ionno Andddd, well, I suppose it would be a spoiler, yes... Perhaps there is meaning to this "JOLT" ? Can anyone tell for sure? Anyone know why they seemingly were .. shocked, into leaving the Usagis alone? Hmm.

I miss you too Bunnon, stay safe and take care ! UV and the Usagis will always wait for you and you're always welcome back here.

[danepopfrippery]

What happened? Finethingswell fucking cut me out of our drag means slay a show i did 90% of the work for and im sure will say im hysterical.

First they forget only one bag, out of 10, a massive dress sized garment bag. I wait 8 mins for them to show only to be all oopsy doodle. This bag was not only massive it was in the middle of the room. Now i gotta drive 40 mins back and forth to get my wig and stuff.

Ofc im crying by now. And in the meantime Eli messed up getting the show on and the livestream on cuz they had no idea what they were doing. And the show started juuust as i entered the bldg with them going first. I crafted that setlist and asked for their input. They gave none. After them was someone unrelated and then their bestie. I know they knew we were 5 mins away and i know they had no idea on the stream cuz they were asking me and didnt reply to me or keep me in the loop (but did their roomie who was w me).

I cant stop crying. Oh im so sorry so sorry. I say i just need to stop crying. They moved me only 4 songs from when i entered and i was still crying so id be end of act 2 minus the star. Btw never got to meet vico at all, that was nice.

I finally stop crying, they see this they know this. Intermission. 2nd song their a prop. K cool i know that. They never came back. After that was supposed to be our thank us. They never asked if i was up for it. They also didnt even mention my name.

I had it. I was leaving. Sorries began again. I said your clearly not so stop. I mean ffs maybe one thing was an accident but ALL OF THEM? CANT EVEN SAY MY NAME IN THE THANK US? I LITERALLY DID ALL OF THIS WHILE U JUST TOOK DIRECTION AND DID SMALL HELPFUL THINGS?!

I refunded the livestream money, ppl can donate if they want but im sorry it was a shit show. I dont want to interact w this or any other fandom anymore. Had to pay $40 to get back to my place. I cant even attend c2e2 im too poor so i drove 9hrs to be fucked in the back apparently. Didnt get tips didnt even get thanks.

Id recommend watching out for these people. Fuck i named it our drag means slay ffs

[starglitterz]

Quill!!! if it's not too intrusive, pls give us your top 10 y/n moments lol!!!!

HAHAHSKDJKJSD omfg who sent this in 😭😭😭 this is so funny tho i'll def do it (shameless plug btw, i have a whole series based on my irl experiences w romance called to all the boys i've loved before [totally original, ik] u should check it out!!)

these aren't in any particular order btw it's just the ones i rmb HAHA also i think these are pretty recent i tried not to include any of the ones i alrdy have in the series 👍

10. when i went for an anime con and i had just arrived, and after taking a pic w this one cosplayer his friend (in a kirito cosplay) came up to me and asked if he could princess carry me for a pic HSKJDK

9. when i visited my highschool for a festival thing and found out that one of my juniors had a crush on me (and still did??) and had told all his friends abt how cute and pretty he thinks i am HAHAHA (a total ego boost tbh someone should have told him that i am actually not all that)

8. being in a love triangle except it wasn't really a triangle it was like my two guy best friends had crushes on me at the same time and had a falling out over me (not to be amy dunne from gone girl but i did always want 2 guys to fight over me GOODBYE)

7. this one guy that was texting me and asking me on a date kept flirting w me and it was so stupidly lame that it was cute

6. going for my college orientation party and having a few guys ask me for my insta (honestly i had never expected this would happen I WAS SO KJASKJDKSJD ABT IT)

5. at the same orientation party some random older guy tried to hit on me so i ran away and this other guy i had met earlier was rlly nice and waited w me until my transport arrived and texted later to ask if i had gotten home safely 🥺 (the bar for men is like 700 feet under the ground)

4. at the anime con (same as earlier) i got kabedoned by this girl cosplaying gojo and she said i looked rlly cute and i nearly collapsed

3. HAHA I CANT BELIEVE I ALMOST FORGOT THIS BUT on my birthday i went on the bus to get home and the guy behind me was in my course, and he recognised me so we were talking for a bit until he realised it was my bday, and he literally asked the guy next to him to please switch places so we could sit tgt and he could wish me properly 😭it was so cute he had like golden retriever vibes HAHA and we were talking the entire time it was vv fun

2. yk that thing where u compare hand sizes but then they hold your hand HAHAHA that actually happened to me w one of my new friends 💀 he has rlly nice hands tho so no complaints here PLSKJWDKJS

1, ok guys now this one is some real life kdrama bs istg i felt like it was a movie while it was happening 😭 so basically the bus was pretty much full and i ended up sitting next to this rlly cute guy. and my brain was going 'damn i wanna talk to him', but i had to put my purse away first. so i was trying to put it in my bag, but it slipped and fell onto the floor and he was like 'oh!', and then i had to bend down and pick it up while thinking 'NOO this is so embarrassing he probably thinks im a dumbass'. and then i managaed to embarrass myself further 👍 guess what? while trying to sit back up again i literally hit my head against the chair in front of me and went 'ow!' out loud and the guy was like 'oh no are you okay 😭⁉' and i was like 'yeah... just super embarrassed HAHA' and we started talking from there KJSDKSJD i could talk abt this forever bc so much cute stuff happened but tldr he was like the total package but then i got ghosted BYE

ok thanks for coming to my ted talk as u can see i love talking abt myself pls feel free to ask more but i don't think i have any more romantic experiences atm 😭😭😭 i'm currently trying to manic pixie dream girl one of my guy friends in college so we can see how that goes ig LMAO,,, anyways thanks 4 reading ! interact w this post and give me validation please and thanks <3 (/hj)