#because although i would love it if our wait times were short and we could get people in immediately

[biblically-accurate-soup]

working in mental healthcare sucks sometimes

[a-b-riddle]

A Simple (Mis) Understanding Chapter One: Location, Location, Location

John

"MacTavish," It had been about three months since the 141 had returned from our last OP. It had been a rough one and, although, we had all come back alive, we didn't come back unscathed. And we all had to thank a pretty little IT 'expert' to thank for that. Stupid fucking Omega...

"Usually I'm the one calling you. To what do I owe the pleasure?" I threw back the amber colored liquor, finishing the last of my latest bottle. It seemed all I had in my free time was drinking myself into an early grave.

Good.

"Care for a hunting trip, Cap'n?" Johnny's tone was playful, which was almost always never a good sign. MacTavish could seek out trouble like a bloody bloodhound. 

"What d'ya have in mind?" I humored. I had come home to a sedentary life style. Any ideals I had about settling down, extinguished. I wasn't as young as I used to be, but I'm still too into the fight to retire now. So whatever Johnny had in mind, surely must be something worth at least entertaining.

"A pretty little flower." He says and I swear I can almost hear the see the smirk on his face. "Stands at about five foot three. Has a knack for stabbing a man in the back right after suckin' 'im dry."

Daisy.

"You got a lead then I take it?" I try to stifle the anger as I feel it beginning to bubble. Every Alpha instinct is telling me to track, hunt, kill. Before, every biological urge I had toward our flower was to protect, keep, and fuck until she forgot her own bloody name. Now, I wasn't so sure I could stand the sight of her long enough to get the answers I wanted-- needed-- before absolutely tearing her to fucking shreds. 

"Aye." He confirmed. "Wanted to see if you were up for it before I called the lads."

"How polite."

"You're still, Cap'n."   "And I know you had more..." There was a shift in his tone. Unease as he tried to find the words, but couldn't. He couldn't. None of us could. Because none of us could describe what had happened with Daisy. Betrayal is too gentle of a word, too short and modest of a word to describe what she had done to us; hell, me. Johnny cleared his throat. Clearly uncomfortable and wanting to retract the beginning of whatever statement he had intended on making.  "Join me to settle an old debt, ye?" 

I didn't need to think twice about Johnny's officer. An opportunity to finish what we started back in Austria. I didn't regret stopping Johnny as much as I did not getting the answers I needed before the little bitch disappeared like a damn thief in the night. Now was the chance. Not only revenge for what we had been through, but the betrayal she had put us through. Jeopardizing not only the 141, but the few loved ones we had. My mum, MacTavish's sisters, Garrick's entire fucking family and the little solace that Simon had. A peace of mind knowing if he wanted to start living again, he could. All of it was almost lost. 

"You got eyes on our-" No. She wasn't ours anymore. Not our girl. Not our flower. Sure as fuck never our Omega. "On her."

"I got an address." If he noticed my pause, he didn't say anything. For that I'm grateful. I can't be weak again because some of doe-eyed little Omega. One who whispered sweet lies about how good my knot felt and all the things she wanted in life. Things we-I- wanted.  "Had an old contact have her name pop up. Hen is too fucking dense to make sure to use an alias especially considering she stayed on our side of the pond."

Don't really plan on going home after this. Not really anything waiting for me back there except some student debt. She had hid the pain of having no family well, but, now after everything, nothing seemed genuine. Every kiss, every touch, every smile and laugh she had thrown my way was now tainted.

Now it was time to bury it all.

"I'll call Garrick." That was all the confirmation Johnny would get out of me. I didn't want to seem too eager to finally get my hands on her. I needed to be collected. Level headed. I was the Alpha. I was the one my team looked to for guidance. I had already failed them once. I damn sure wouldn't be doing it again. "I'll let you convince Riley to come along."

"Lettin' me call in the boogeyman?" Johnny was smiling again. Could fucking hear it in his voice. He was the one who had probably fallen the hardest for the little bitch. Indulging him in soft touches and soothing his temper. Probably the same reason he had put a barrel to her forehead the moment she had admitted to it.

I was going to tell you. She had tried to excuse her delay as if that were the issue. I just didn't know how to tell you. But can you blame me? Yes. We could. And we did. For the shitty last seven months. For the constant worry all of us had for having to pull our mind out of the mission to worry about what was going on back home.

Her tears didn't save her. Only until Laswell came in raising an absolute bloody stink. Claims of how the very audacity to potentially injure an Omega on her team could cost her career. Fuck her career.

"Send me the details." I pulled another bottle off the shelf. Promising myself it would be the last one I had until I finally pulled that weed of a woman out of existence. Killing her meant I could finally move on. Find someone, certainly not a fucking Omega, to settle down with. I could heal from the heartbreak I would never admit to. It would be the ending that we all needed.

"Will do Cap'n." Johnny didn't wait for my dismissal before he hung up. He was just as ready for a hunt as I was.

[berryz-writes]

Not yet

Azriel x reader

Summary: Your not ready to tell Azriel's family your mates in fear of them not liking you

note: It's just Az being the standard and the cutest shit ever. Also its pretty short im sorry lovelies <3

"I don't want to. Not yet" I murmured to Azriel, snuggling closer to his warmth. His hands ran up and down my back, sending small shivers down my spine.

"And why is that, sweetheart?" He replied, his voice slightly hoarse from having just woken up, pressing small kisses to my face. I opened my eyes and tried to get used to the light in the room. It was a Saturday, one of the days Azriel was content to just lie in bed with me with no commitments for the rest of the day.

"I just...I don't think they'll like me. I know it's stupid but I don't know them well enough. What if they think I'm using you or don't actually love you? What if they convince you that I'm not good enough?" I waited for him to say something. I didn't usually have anything bad to say against his family but I was never comfortable around new people. Especially if they were such important figures in our court. A slight sigh left his lips "Y/n. Do you really think I'd stop loving you if one of them told me to?...not that they would"

I sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear, his heat suddenly too much. "No but it's not just that. Imagine I say something wrong. I know their your family but their also high lord and lady. What if I say something...I don't know politically wrong? They'll laugh at me and think how in the world are us two mates."

Azriel moved his arm around my waist and pulled me back to lay down on the bed, his hand moving through my hair in a soothing motion. "They will think nothing of the sort because you are perfect. But if it makes you feel better we can wait for as long as you want. Feyre was talking about inviting the wonderful florist tomorrow. Accept her offer and get to know everyone a bit"

I thought about it and slowly nodded my head. "Fine."

Azriel was right because Feyre did invite me the next day.

"Y/n! Oh these are gorgeous! You've outdone yourself" Feyre said admiring the bouquet I had prepared

I smiled and handed her the card with all my business details "Thank you high lady. If anyone asks where you got them from please give them this."

"Feyre, please. No formalities between us"

I nodded my head "Feyre it is then"

She turned her attention to the rest of the shop looking around the flower filled store "You have such a peaceful life. Living amongst flowers and smelling like roses all the time"

I let out a small laugh. Very peaceful. Sometimes a little too peaceful. "I suppose. Although it get's boring at times"

Feyre's eyes lit up in excitement "You should come to dinner tonight! It'll be something different for you and we can get to know each other more"

I thought about what me and Azriel had discussed earlier. Now was the perfect opportunity, to meet his family. "Oh...I don't want to intrude. I don't know-"

She shook her head "Nonsense. Your coming tonight. Everyone will be scrambling over each other to get to know you"

I looked around the store, hoping for a sign as to what I should do. The only sign I could see however was the open sign on the front door.

"Fine. I'll come. Thank you the for the invite high- Feyre"

She beamed and gave me a quick hug, slightly surprising me before walking out with her bouquet of flowers. I sighed. Well I suppose I better go home and change so I looked slightly decent at least.

*Dinner, a few hours later*

Azriel cleared his throat slightly before continuing "Did you want something lov- y/n?"

I paused and clenched my jaw at the slip up. The chatter at the table was luckily loud enough for no one to quiet hear what he was saying. This was the first time I had been happy for Cassian's loud voice. I shook my head "I'll get it myself, thank you" I reached over and picked up the dish, adding a few potatoes to my plate, trying not to gather attention towards us two. Really. Azriel wasn't very good at following instructions. If someone had heard that I don't know what I would have done.

Probably jumped out a window or something.

"Everything alright?" Rhys asked looking over at me first, then Azriel and then me again. I nodded my head quickly and gave him a smile "Fine, everything's fine" Azriel didn't reply merely nodding in agreement too.

I let out a sigh of relief when he turned away and took a sip of his wine. Luckily dinner passed with no other accidents happening. I watched as everyone took their seats in the living room, Feyre and Rhys cuddled up on the couch while the others sprawled here and there, Elain having gone up because of a headache.

Azriel stood half hidden by his shadows in the door way, I could sense him even though I couldn't see him without squinting my eyes.

Come to the kitchen. It's important

His voice echoed in my mind, his deep and low voice making me miss him even though he was just inches away. I got up making an excuse of needing water and walked over to the kitchen, past the dining room where we had just sat. Before I could process what was happening I was against a wall and Azriel's lips were on mine, his shadows cocooning us in a dark and peaceful bubble. He kissed me like he was starving and he couldn't get enough.

We finally pulled apart my hands resting on his chest "Azriel" I warned him, the lust filled look in his eyes ready to devour me. His hands ran up and down my body, my waist, my hips warming each part of me.

"I want to tell them. I want to tell them about my perfect and beautiful mate." He whispered his eyes dark and his hair falling forward onto his forehead. I pushed a strand away "I can't right now. I'm not ready"

I knew even if I shook my head once Azriel would understand. His hopeful expression dropped slightly but his lips remained in a small smile "Let me take you home now, sweetheart. I can't live without having you close to me"

I rolled my eyes but smiled all the same "Don't be so dramatic"

He didn't reply, instead tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. "We're going" He said finally and winnowed us on the spot. I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone but all thoughts left me as Azriel looked at me with his devilishly handsome grin.

MASTERLIST

[yusuke-of-valla]

So, Video Game Voice Actors Are On Strike: A Quick and Dirty Guide for Tumblr Users

Starting on July 26th, SAG-AFTRA members that are part of the Interactive Media Agreement (so mostly voice actors for video games) will be on strike. If you're a member of SAG-AFTRA with questions, I would speak to them.

Most of this information is coming from the SAG-AFTRA website, feel free to correct me if I'm wrong about anything or ask if you need anything.

If you are a random tumblr user who wants to know what's going on, here we go.

Why are video game voice actors striking?

AI, as one could expect. From the union's statement:

Although agreements have been reached on many issues important to SAG-AFTRA members, the employers refuse to plainly affirm, in clear and enforceable language, that they will protect all performers covered by this contract in their A.I. language.

Which Games Are Being Struck?

Games from: Activision Productions Inc., Blindlight LLC, Disney Character Voices Inc., Electronic Arts Productions Inc., Formosa Interactive LLC, Insomniac Games Inc., Llama Productions LLC, Take 2 Productions Inc., VoiceWorks Productions Inc., and WB Games Inc. are all being struck.

There is also a website to confirm which union projects are being struck but you'd need to be a member actively working on it to use it.

Ok so I'm not a voice actor, union or otherwise, I just like games. What should I do.

I can NOT stress this enough. Do NOT stop playing games. The union has not asked for this, and is instead asking for people to amplify our messages online using #LevelUpTheContract, #VideoGameStrike and #SagAftraStrong."

You can also sign this petition in support of voice actors getting a fair deal.

I'm not a union representative but if a game you're looking forward to is being covered by the struck companies, I'd blow up your social media and their mentions with how much you love the voice acting and the actors deserve a fair contract, but other than that you are not being asked to boycott any games or not cosplay or attend events.

A Streamer is playing a struck game! Is that crossing the picket line?

No, SAG-AFTRA explicitly says that is fine, and in fact encourages it.

An actor is promoting/promoted a struck work at SDCC, is that crossing the picket line?

No, the statement explicitly says those attending SDCC can still do work there because of the short notice, they are also fine.

Wait didn't SAG-AFTRA already do some weird bullshit regarding video game voice actors and AI?

Yes, at the Consumer Electronics Show in January, SAG-AFTRA signed a deal with Replica AI to allow their members to create digital replicas, it was a whole thing and many voice actors were pissed.

So they're hypocrites?

Ok it's more complicated than that. Their logic for the Replica AI thing is rather than allow companies to do whatever they want, it was better to have a system in place to be able to clearly say when a company was breaking the rules and ensure that talent got some compensation.

We can debate the efficacy of that strategy all day and voice actors at the time were not happy, BUT the companies being struck here refuse to even rise to THAT standard and will not agree to the most basic protections for actors, which is worse.

People and organizations contain multitudes and it is not a betrayal or hypocritical to disagree with SAG-AFTRA leadership on the Replica AI situation and side with them, and more importantly their members in this case.

Why aren't game devs striking/ It's not devs on strike so I don't care

The Screen Actors Guild covers actors, so it would not be in everyone's best interest if they were to try and negotiate on behalf of people in different fields with different needs.

However, one way to build support for the various movements to unionize at places like Activision-Blizzard and Bethesda is to support labor movements everywhere and show solidarity whenever it comes up.

Why are the actors striking when the developers should be paid more.

They should be paid more! And they should not be laid off as much. One way to help with that is to be able to point to voice actors and say, hey they got a raise, I want one too.

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Ok, this is so fun! Congrats again!

I'll pick...Hunter (shocked, I'm sure.)

How about: "I don't think I've ever seen you smile" and "Oh, don't be cute"/"Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Thanks!!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Thank you @clonethirstingisreal - I hope you love this Carol, it actually brought a smile to my face as I was writing it.

Enjoy, love oo.

One Meal

Warnings: knife flipping, allusions to loss, slight angst, fluff. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Hunter flicked his knife back and forth in between his fingers, as he contemplated the next mission. Things were … different, since you joined. Not good or bad … just different. It been about six months, and yes, the Marauder was cleaner and didn’t have that lingering smell anymore, and yes, the meals had gotten better too, because you refused to just eat the ration bars the GAR provided. And … okay, it was nice to see your smiling face in the morning, compared to the miserable faces of his brothers. 

Yet, he still felt awkward around you. He wanted to laugh with you, like you could so easily with Wrecker, to have deep discussion, like you could with Tech, even philosophical discussions like you did with Echo. Hell, he’d be happy if he could just do target practice with you, like you did with Crosshair, but … every time he opened his mouth, he was curt, short tempered, and on edge. 

It wasn’t even your fault, it was just him. 

He stood from his seat, heading down the ramp and taking in a breath of fresh air. You were cooking dinner, doing your best to teach Wrecker that just because salt tasted good, didn’t mean he had to put in a whole table spoon full. 

It made him laugh a little as you tried to explain in your most patient voice possible, that you’d fix the dinner and Wrecker could go help Tech or Crosshair with something else. It was your polite way of saying ‘go away.’

Hunter tried but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, as he walked over to you.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile" you pointed out as he walked up to you. “What’s got you so happy?”

“Oh, I just saw how you were very tactful with Wrecker. It was funny.”

You shrugged trying to fight back your own laughter as you tried to fix the stew, by adding more water, “He tried. I’m grateful he’s willing to learn.”

“Need help? I’m not completely inept when it comes to cooking.”

You looked a little surprised when he asked, not that his offering to help was a real shock, it was the fact you realized this was the first time you two had a proper conversation. “Um … yeah, if you don’t mind using your handy dandy knife there, that you like flipping around so much, to cut up some of these veggies so I can add them, that’d be great.”

Hunter chuckled at your description, as he nodded, taking a seat and getting to work, “Where did you learn to cook?” He asked, hoping to get to know you a little better.

“My mom and grandmother. They were adamant that I learn how to feed an army if I ever needed to …” you chuckled, “I had a big family, back home. Usually there would be around twenty of us for dinner.”

“Twenty? Did you have a lot of siblings?”

“No. It was just me. But I had uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbours, anyone and everyone who needed a meal could always come to our place for dinner. We never turned away anyone in need of a good meal.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was …” a sadness passed your face, as you thought back to what had once been your home, until the Separatist droid army showed up, and destroyed everything you had held so dear. 

Hunter saw your smile slip, it pained him to see that you had been through so much, although he hadn’t heard about it directly from you, he did overhear what had happened when you were talking with Tech. “Well we appreciate all your efforts, especially when you’re trying to teach us neanderthals how to cook.”

You giggled a little, pushing away the sad thoughts that had encapsulated your mind for a split second, “You’re not neanderthals.”

“We’re not exactly proper either. Couldn’t say, we’re exactly suited for a posh dinner.”

You shook your head as you laughed, “You don’t need to be suited for a posh dinner, you just need to show up to eat.” You smiled as you turned to look at him, smirking as you saw how perfectly he cut each vegetable.

You walked over and grabbed the tray of veggies, and dropped them into the stew, “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Why do you take care of us? I mean granted the Marauder smells a lot better, and the meals you cook are much better than the GAR rations, but … why do you do it?”

You stirred the stew as you contemplated the question, “I guess … because you feel like family to me.” You turned to look at him, truthfully, he was the only one that you didn’t think of as family, you wanted something more with him, something special, but seeing as this was the first time you two actually talked, it might be a bit far-fetched to imagine that could possibly happen. “And, I love seeing how my food makes you guys happy. Wrecker, has the biggest smile on his face, whenever he eats when I cook. Tech has this adorable blush, although he’ll never admit how much he enjoys my cooking. And Crosshair … well he always comes back for seconds; and frankly, between you and me, he needs to eat more. He’s too skinny. I could break off his collarbone if I needed.”

“I enjoy it too,” Hunter clarified as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I might not say it, but I always look forward to your cooking.” He blushed and turned his head away, not wanting you to see how much of an effect you had on him, and not just because of your cooking. 

You laughed at his reaction, "Oh, don't be cute” you teased, “I might have to walk over there and pinch your cheeks.”

Hunter started to laugh, when he realized what you said, “Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can I please request a Jeremiah x reader smut where it’s both of their first times! Smut but also cute and fluffy! Thank you ♥️

This is my first time writing for Jeremiah, please be nice. While I like him in the show - I am not team Jeremiah though -, I find him difficult to write about, so idk if I'll keep him on my list...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When it comes to losing your virginity, you've always wanted to wait for the right moment to do it. Maybe it was watching rom-coms and reading hundreds of romances that implanted this vision in your mind, or maybe it was just you wanting to make that big moment perfect, knowing you could never re-do it if you jinxed it…or worse, regret it.

‘’I have not,’’ Belly confessed quietly, shaking her head. ‘’Cam and I went on our third date. It’s way too early.’’ She picked at a loose thread on her shorts, not exactly comfortable talking about sex but feeling comfortable enough to talk about it with you. ‘’Have you and Jere..?’’

‘’No,’’ you said, excluding the other things you and Jeremiah had done that weren’t full-on penetrative sex. ‘’But we are thinking about it.’’

Belly’s attention snapped up. ‘’Oh?’’

You nodded, a light flush tinted your cheeks.

‘’Are you nervous?’’

You nodded again.

So many things could go wrong even if you make sure everything is perfect. You also heard some girls say it hurt the first time and that they bled, which scared you a little.

Belly grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. ‘’I may not know anything about sex, but what I know is that it’s Jeremiah. He loves you. There’s nothing to be nervous about,’’ she assured you.

A few weeks later, the day finally came.

Your mom was out at her book club meeting and your dad was at the country club, leaving the house to yourself for a few hours. Taking advantage of their absence, you texted Jeremiah to come over…and to bring the condoms.

It was bold and definitely had him grinning on his couch at home before making up an excuse to ditch Steven at video games and shower and get ready for the big event.

While Jeremiah was getting ready, you did the same. You put on matching bra and underwear, gave your hair an extra brush and spritzed yourself with Jeremiah’s favorite perfume of yours, lit some candles for ambiance although it was burning hot outside. You made sure everything was perfect.

Except it wasn’t perfect. 

Right when Jeremiah unhooked your bra, his phone started blaring loudly and wouldn't stop. After the fifth ring, Jeremiah answered and left, needing to pick up his mother at the country club. He said he could come back after, but the moment was already ruined.

By some miracle, you were presented another perfect opportunity a few days later.

Susannah was out with Belly and Laurel for a debutante dress fitting, Conrad was at the beach surfing, and Steven was with Shayla.

You and Jeremiah were having a swim in his pool to cool down from the sun. Summer was beautiful, but the heat was too much sometimes. Thankfully, Jeremiah had a nice pool, which you loved to take advantage of. As always, playful splashing turned into kissing and soon enough, you were making out.

You moved things upstairs to Jeremiah’s room for more privacy, and also because didn’t want your first time to be in a pool or on the Fisher’ back porch. 

‘’Careful!’’ Jeremiah reminded as the two of you hurried upstairs, leaving water all over the floors despite being wrapped in a towel. ‘’The floors are slippery when we—’’ 

You caught his arm in time before he could slip and fall, sending the two of you in a fit of laughter. The fun was interrupted when he backed you against the wall and kissed you in the hallway. You melted against him and let your towel drop. 

Jeremiah brought you to his bed, not caring about the wet patched your wet baiting suits would leave behind. It's not like you were going to keep them on for very long. 

Hands were all over each other's body, exploring and grabbing while you were kissing with desire. You undid the ties of your bikini, chucking it on the floor, then moved to your bottoms. Your whole body was on fire under Jeremiah's touch — you needed it all off. 

You reached for Jeremiah's shorts, helping him out because it was harder to take off when wet...and horny, but that's when Steven decided to walk in like he owned the place, catching sight of Jeremiah's bare ass. 

For the rest of the summer, you weren't able to find a good moment. Jeremiah was either working at the country club's pool, or someone was home. You could have snuck to an empty bedroom at a party, but a stranger's bedroom was nothing romantic for a first time. 

You were starting to get impatient so, one night he was supposed to drive you home, you made him pull over and stop the car. It was dumb and had high risks of getting caught, but you didn't care. 

‘’Are you sure?'' Jeremiah asked, seeing you pull your dress over your head. ''We don’t have to if you don’t.’’

You shook your head, looking right into his beautiful blue eyes. ‘’You’re my best friend, Jere. I want it to be you. I want it to be now.’’ 

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777

[jd07201990]

So… Does anyone know how many bouquets of roses, or how many boxes of chocolates it’ll take to survive my new Wife’s wrath, when she see’s her adorable, creative, intelligent boy… after I accidentally shipped him off to the equivalent of Football Boot-camp, so we could have our honeymoon alone in Cancun. Honestly! We were all going over the options, the two last resorts being we don’t go on our honeymoon, or Jason would have to stay at his grandpa’s house in the middle of nowhere a few states away. Clearly, we were desperate, so when I found the pamphlets for what looked like a regular old summer camp out in the woods, with a lake, and a whole slew of other activities, I jumped on it, especially since the price for the entire summer was $2100 bucks! Where I really screwed up, was not reading the pamphlet I was filling out, which was absolutely not the super happy fun time in the woods experience… It was ROTC for Football Jocks. I learned this only when I drove out to pick him up, 3 months later, and well… you can see what trudged up to me from across the parking lot, huge battered old sneakers pounding the pavement as he absentmindedly gnawed on a protein bar in his meaty, calloused fist, while his other hand absentmindedly adjusted his shorts. Just like all the other bulked up brutes marching off to their dads and coaches, his chest was bare, and bouncing with every step. When he’d crossed the distance, he grinned this dim, dopey grin, and grunted, “Thanks for pickin’ me up Dude. Can we stop by Wendy’s? I’m fuckin’ starving!” He punctuated this by stuffing the last of the protein bar in his mouth and yanking the door to my car open, the fiberglass handle cracked in his hand. He looked at the two halves, chuckled with that deep, rumbling Jock tone, and got in, dumping the pieces on the seat next to him. It didn’t take long for the car to fill the distinct funk of athletic prowess, especially when he kicked off his size 14’s and put his feet up on the dash. I nearly gagged, and despite the heat outside, rolled down the windows to air out. As we pulled into the driveway, my wife was on the lawn, waiting with a little bag, excited to see her boy again. When the sweaty ape of a jock got out lumbered up to her, wrapping his beefy arms around her, she looked terrified… for a second… then her eyes narrowed on me. When Jason finally let go of her, he gave her that same, blank, dopey grin, all the intelligence gone from his big wide eyes, and held his fist out… she looked at it incredulously, and he chuckled, “You’re supposed to bump it, Ma… with your fist” Well, the last 6 months have been tough, but Jason, or, “Jay” as he reminds us often, has absolutely blossomed at school. Although his grades could be better. The shock of his summer “glo-up” or as his oafish, grunting new friends like to tease, “blow-up” hit a few of the teachers harder than others. Although the Coach of the football team had nearly offered me his ’69 Camero to have Jason on the team after seeing him plow through reps in the football team’s gym.  I said it was tough, because our house is essentially a second Locker Room for Jay and his small army of sweating, smelly behemoths. There is a never-ending pile of laundry from countless practices, the gym, and just hanging out with his friends. My wife has somewhat gotten used to her little boy calling her, “Bro” accidentally… every other day… and despite the change, he’s still her boy, there’s just, a good bit more of him to love. I will say, he’s a great kid, kind of dumb, a bit crass, and stinks like a gym bag more often than not, but when you dig a bit deeper into those dim, wide eyes, there’s still that adorable boy, underneath a pile of muscle.

[piastriesque]

not your future fa14 x reader

⤷pairing: fernando alonso x fem!reader

⤷warnings: age gap

⤷summary: for the sake of your boyfriend's happiness, you made the decision to break up with him

⤷word count: 1.4k

note: i don't usually write, even if i do it's in my first language, not english, so i'm kinda scared. i apologize for all the mistakes. if you point them out to me, i will correct them!

The sound of falling drops got on your nerves. You were waiting for the man to finish showering. You were pacing around the room, wanting to get it all over with already. The sudden sound of a closing door startled you so much that you almost jumped. You quickly sat down on the couch. 

A moment later, your boyfriend Fernando entered the room. He was wearing only gray shorts. 

“I forgot to take my T-shirt with me,” he smiled innocently, though you could bet he was teasing you. When you barely reciprocated the smile, he felt that something was wrong. He walked toward you and reached his hand not far from you. Only now did you notice that there was “the forgotten” T-shirt lying nearby. The man put on the shirt in silence, covering the samurai tattoo you so adored. The T-shirt stuck to his back, you guessed that he must not have wiped himself thoroughly. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, sitting next to you. Even though earlier you wanted to get it off your chest as soon as possible, now you lacked the courage. “You seem a little subdued lately. Do you have any problems? Did something happen at work? Or maybe it's about your parents?” he wanted to know.

You shook your head, denying. You didn't have time to form the words in your head, because your boyfriend kept asking.

“Does it have anything to do with me? Have I done something wrong?” he grabbed your hands. This gesture made you look at him. His beautiful brown eyes were worried, and still-wet strands of hair fell on his forehead.

“No, you haven’t done anything wrong.” You swallowed saliva and then slowly took your hands from his grasp. “I… I think… I have realized that this will not work” you mumbled.

“What? What do you mean?” he felt as if he had been hit on the head.

“I think we should break up”

“But why?”

When you looked away, refraining from crying, he stood up and started walking nervously around the room. So many thoughts were swirling in his head. He didn't understand anything. Not long ago, you said you were the luckiest woman in the world, having him by your side. What has changed?

“Have I done something wrong?” he asked for the second time that evening, after a while, he added, “Do you have someone else?”.

“There is no one else. And you haven't done anything wrong. You have always been so good to me.” Your heart ached more and more with every word you spoke, “But we envision our future differently.”

“Really? Until now, I thought we wanted the same thing.” He sat down again, “Please, look at me,” his voice softened, “To me, my future is you.”

You couldn't hold back any longer. You burst into tears. Fernando put his arm around you, and because you didn't protest, he pulled you close.

“It’s okay,” he started stroking your head, “Tell me exactly what's going on, I'm sure we can deal with it together somehow.”

“No, we really can't” you whispered against his chest.

“Well, then…” he gulped, “How do you imagine your future?”

His hand kept gently caressing your hair. You felt bad about him being so gentle and tender, trying to reassure you. The thought crossed your mind that you would have preferred him to be mad. Maybe then this conversation would have been easier. He would have started shouting, and you would hit back. Love, for a moment, would be overshadowed by anger. Instead, there was something extremely innocent and fragile sitting next to you. Although it tried not to show it, you knew he was hurting inside.

You took a deep breath. “It doesn't matter anymore, but…” you saw him open his mouth. “Please, don't interrupt me. But… I always imagined that one day we would get married. We would adopt a dog. We will travel together, I will cheer for you at the races. Perhaps we would be able to do some projects together. It would look more or less like it does now… Plus a dog. You and I, always together,” the man smiled softly, “Just the two of us”.

“I don't understand”

“I’m not ready to have a child”

Silence fell over the room. The man's face showed confusion and surprise.

“I understand, but why are you talking about it? I never pressed for it. We've talked about this before. We don't need to rush.”

“Yes, we talked, but recently I realized that I am not ready for it. I would like to focus on myself, my career, and my self-development. I still have time to become a mother. And you, how long can you wait?” 

Fernando didn’t answer.

“There is no denying it, the age difference between us is quite significant. I don't need to rush, I can become a mother even in 10 years or later. And you… I know you love children. I want you to be at full strength to play with your own”.

“Remember what I said a few minutes ago? You are my future. I want to be with you. No matter what. I love you” he declared.

“I love you too. That's why I don't want to regret something later. I can't do that to you” You stood up and left the room.

You and he had a few more conversations with each other, but eventually, the man realized that you were adamant. He stopped sending messages and calling. You agreed that since emotions were still strong, you should not have any contact, even friendly contact, at least for a while. However, before you knew it a year passed, then 2…. And recently it was the 4th anniversary of your breakup. Neither of you has contacted the other. At first, you lacked courage, you were afraid that the other person might not want to talk, and then, although it's sad to admit, you got used to the absence from each other's lives.

It's all been very hard for you. After the breakup, you notoriously avoided articles about him to avoid thinking about your ended relationship. Later it became a habit for you. You were completely unaware of what was going on in his life. You had no idea even if he was still driving in Formula One.

Sitting on a park bench, you were drinking coffee. You took a break from work to get some air and breathe. By the way, you decided to take your dog for a walk, he was now lying next to your legs and snoring peacefully until…

“Puppy!” you heard a child's scream. It was a little girl, two or three years old. She extended her hand towards your dog.

Immediately afterward, a man appeared at her side, addressing her in Spanish. Even if you knew Spanish well, you wouldn't be able to understand a word, because the man's presence completely took away your ability to think.

“Hi” Fernando said kindly but was also slightly surprised to see you.

“Hi” you replied, praying that a quaver in your voice could not be heard.

“It’s my daughter” he turned his head towards the girl “Why don't you introduce yourself to the lady”

The girl did what her dad asked her to do. Shyly smiling at the same time.

“Beautiful name. It's nice to meet you. My name is Y/N” you reciprocated the smile.

You noticed that the girl's gaze once again went to your dog. You weren't the only one who saw it.

“You should ask the owner's permission to pet the dog first”

“Can I?” she asked with hope in her eyes.

“Of course, you can,” you laughed kindly.

The girl squealed with joy and immediately approached the animal.

“So… how are you?” the Spaniard asked.

You managed to talk for 10 minutes, then had to say goodbye, because they were in a bit of a hurry, and the man promised to buy his daughter an ice cream before returning home.

You felt as if some void in your heart was filled. It was a relief to see him happy. Even though, you were ultimately not the one who was his future.

[alicerosejensen]

All pets go to heaven

Warning: mention of pet deaths; hurt/comfort; angst; dad!Leon.

Synopsis: This is a tragedy in Leon's family. It was inevitable, but it broke one small child's heart.

A/n: I am writing this because my beloved cat who lived with me for 17 years died. It is a great pain to lose pets who have become part of the family, and even knowing that this is inevitable, the pain will not become less. Although I am already an adult, this is the first time I have encountered this pain. I'm just trying to distract myself a little bit and, as always, find solace in writing while my heart heals.

Everyone who has pets - love them because their lives are so short compared to ours. We are their whole life, and they are only a part of it for us.

Losing is always hard. Returning home after a difficult mission that somehow miraculously passed without unnecessary sacrifices, Leon hoped to return to the calm atmosphere of his house where you and your baby girl were waiting for him, whom he had just bought gifts. Some sweets, soft toys, besides, as he drove up to the house, he was thinking about a family outing somewhere to an amusement park and then drop into some cafe and eat ice cream. It would be a great therapy for him and a good opportunity to make up for lost time with his family.

He has already written to you about his imminent return, but did not expect that when he entered the house, he would feel some unusual emptiness. Something that was not as usual when he returned.

You immediately left the kitchen holding a glass of water in your hands when you heard the bang of the front door, which caused a slight smile to blossom on your sad face.

"Leon!" you shouted, putting the glass on the frame that he was home with you again. "You're back! Why didn't you call? I would have prepared something special for dinner."

Leon frowned into your eyes. It's like you've been crying recently. He put the bag on the frame next to the keys, hugged you to him, put his head on top of your head, feeling you relax in his arms.

"I texted you on your phone, wanted to surprise D/N, bought something for her and for you. By the way, where is she? And what happened to your eyes? Did something happen while I was gone?

You nodded softly, freeing yourself from the ring of his arms, and looked up at the second floor, which only made Leon tense, making him nervous.

"Let's go to the kitchen, I'll warm up your lunch" you took Leon's hand hoping that he would immediately follow you and not do everything his own way "And tell you everything. D/N fell asleep in her room recently. I'm sorry, I've hardly picked up the phone lately."

And yet, going into the kitchen, Leon could not help but feel the oppressive atmosphere involuntarily returning him to the distant past where he also sat at the table with an excess of alcohol before the next call from his superiors, waiting for him to be sent on a new mission. The feeling he hoped would never come back. You were sluggishly putting the leftovers of yesterday's lunch on a plate, putting it in the microwave to heat up the food, while Leon was behind you looking at the corner where there were always cat bowls with food and water for Oliver...

It's so strange that the darling of the whole family didn't come out to meet him, as it always was, and now his bowls are gone, but the first thought was that you just decided to wash them and just haven't put them in place yet, and Oliver sleeps on the couch in the living room or in the D/N room, lately because of age He slept a lot.

"The furry fighter sleeps with D/N" joked Leon, sinking into a chair and taking the fork in his hand that you put in front of him.

You shook your head negatively.

"You know, a few days after you left, he got really bad." you began to explain after a heavy sigh, "He was already old by cat standards, at first he began to eat less, then he stopped altogether. He drank only one water, the vet said his kidneys were failing. I decided not to torture him, after all, no matter how painful it was for me to say goodbye to him, I didn't want Oliver to suffer in the last few days, but he quietly died his own death. It makes me feel a little calmer, but D/N... Our girl has been crying for three days."

Leon felt like he had lost all his words. That's why he never got animals, probably because he knew that sooner or later he would have to say goodbye to the one he became attached to, but he met you when you took Oliver as a kitten, and therefore the "furry fighter" as Leon himself called him when they first met, one day also became part of his family along with you. A slightly naughty cat, spoiled, loving to beg for food, when someone just went to the kitchen, often gnawing wires, which is why they had to be hidden. And yet Oliver was part of this family, and D/N love him with all her heart, how could his little girl now know that her beloved furry friend will never come to her again and she will not be able to pet him? Inside Leon everything sank from this thought that his heart demanded to come to his little girl and comfort her.

His appetite immediately disappeared.

"Of course he was old, but it seemed to me that he still had enough strength. He wasn't that bad before I left."

"Yeah," you agreed, placing a plate in front of him.

"He sometimes lost his appetite, but I probably noticed the symptoms too late, although the doctor said that cats often have kidney problems. D/N is the hardest hit. I carefully prepared her for this moment, but three days ago in the morning when she woke up to pet Oliver, he simply did not react - he died peacefully in his sleep. D/N now does not want to do anything, cries all day long and hardly eats."

"I'll go to her," Leon said, getting up from the table without touching his food.

"Leon," you called out to him quietly, causing him to turn around to look at you. "Maybe you can do better than me, to be honest, I haven't been able to find the right words for her in the last three days."

"This... this is not easy for her. She has been with him since birth, but we will succeed, we just need to help her get through this together."

Those were good words. You probably needed them yourself, considering you were the one who picked up Oliver as a kitten, but it's never easy to survive someone else's death, especially someone you loved and cared for for years. While comforting your child, you comfort yourself with the thought that Oliver had lived a good, long cat life. No one had ever hurt him, he lived in warmth, care, and satiety. It was just that his life inevitably came to an end, no matter how much it broke your heart.

Leon paused for a few seconds in front of the door as he climbed the stairs. He often comforted Jane when she was injured or upset about something, but death... It was incredibly difficult for a child to face something like that, especially when his girl loved all animals so much. Leon quietly opened the door and immediately heard sobs that involuntarily made him feel guilty.

Of course he should have been there for her during this difficult period, but he wasn't there, and you alone weren't enough. D/N cries quietly, turning away to the window, hugging a soft toy, not even hearing the steps behind her, immersed only in her grief. Before, she would have jumped out of bed and run to her father, spreading her arms for a hug, and then would have hung on his neck for a long time, begging him to play with her until late in the evening, but now...

"Sunshine, daddy is here"

Leon whispered, sitting down next to her on the bed and putting his hand on her shoulder.

There was another sob. D/N didn't even turn around when she heard his voice, but she definitely realized that her father had returned. How could he blame her? In general, Leon often found himself thinking that it was in his nature to forgive everything to those he loved, especially if it was his own blood. It was more difficult than scraped knees or broken favorite toys. This is the realization to a little girl that her furry friend is gone forever.

She continued to squeeze the toy, sobbing, burying her nose in the pillow. Even when Leon bent down to turn on the night lamp.

"Oliver is gone," she lisped, sniffing loudly, "Mom said he's in a better place now, but I want him back.

"I know, sweetie, I know. I'm so sorry that I wasn't there at that moment." Leon bent down to her, brushing her hair from her face, still gently stroking her back, hoping to ease those tears a little, but it seemed terrible. This is not a situation where you could turn everything into a joke or make her pay attention to something else.

Father's mind rightly told him only that it was necessary for Jane to survive this. That sometimes those we love inevitably leave. An experience that no one wants to go through on their own skin, and Leon himself never wanted such suffering for his daughter.

Leon spoke again only when the children's sobs subsided under his caring hand.

"We all loved him very much, even when he was doing his cat chores past the tray or gnawing on the wires," he smiled, feeling that D/N had done the same, even if she wasn't looking at him. "But unfortunately, the life of animals is much shorter than that of humans. And yet, despite this, I'm sure he was a happy cat. Has anyone offended him?"

She took a deep breath, wiping tears from her cheeks with her palm, finally looking at her father with tear-stained eyes and quietly shook her head in denial.

"N-no" the stuffed toy was back in her hands "But you used to swear at him sometimes"

"Well, sometimes Oliver behaved badly, I mean that some animals are much less lucky. I've never been mad at him for a long time, even when you were very young. You were just born then and you were lying in your crib when Oliver scratched you because you cried."

Leon shrugged, remembering the past, smiling involuntarily.

D/N frowned, scratching her swollen face, clearly not believing Leon's words.

"He didn't hurt me. We always played and he slept next to me."

"It was the only time. I think you were just something new to him and he was scared of loud noises."

These words brought a short smile to her face, which couldn't help but please Leon. He settled down more comfortably next to her, pressing D/N to his shoulder, watching as she gradually began to calm down.

With a heavy sigh, a new stream of tears nevertheless gushed from her eyes after several minutes of silence. "I miss him".

"Shh, I know it's hard. It's really hard but it happened. His life is over and Mom didn't lie to you - Oliver really is in a better place now."

Leon held her small body close to him, letting her cry and cry. His strong embrace protected, but hardly comforted. Even when you came into the room, hearing another cry, this sight of your daughter's tears tore you apart. An endlessly long stage of denial of grief and a childish selfish desire for a beloved cat to come back to life no matter what. You wanted this too, but no one has such power.

You sat down on the other side of the bed so that D/N was in the middle of the two of you, however, it seemed that she did not notice your presence, but you still gently stroked her hair, looking into Leon's eyes, feeling helpless.

Until Leon took her on his lap and kissed the top of her head, ignoring the fact that his shirt and sleeve were now covered in saliva and snot. However, he is a father and this is not the worst thing he could get dirty in.

"Baby, listen to Daddy for a minute," Leon brushed the hair from her tear-stained face, forcing her to look at him, "Do you remember when we watched the cartoon 'all dogs go to heaven'? "

D/N nodded, clutching his arm. You were just reaching for the bedside table for paper handkerchiefs, taking out a couple of them, wiping her face while Leon was talking:

"Of course, the cartoon was about dogs, but it wasn't entirely true. In fact, not only dogs get to heaven, but also cats, birds, hamsters, guinea pigs, it doesn't matter, all pets. And our Oliver is there now too."

"So he's just like Charlie now?" Her voice was hoarse from crying.

Leon nodded, hugging her to him. "Yeah, our Oliver is in the best place now, just like Charlie."

"Can't he wind up the clock too and stay with us a little longer? "

You cast a brief glance at Leon, either rejoicing at the brief glimmer of calm, or on the contrary disapproving of using the plot of an old cartoon as a consolation. On the other hand, what's wrong with a child believing that a pet has gone to heaven after death? At least it would help her start accepting death, because despite still young age, you didn't want to deceive her by coming up with excuses just to hide the painful truth.

It didn't seem like a good idea. So you reached out to D/N, joining the conversation without abandoning your husband in trouble:

"Sweetie, alas, but no. Oliver can no longer come back to us, but he knows that we love him and miss him. And he loves us too."

"Besides," Leon chimed in, "if you remember, no one had the right to wind that clock."

There was that deafening silence again, broken only by sighs and sniffing. Neither you nor Leon dared to speak again while Jane sat quietly on his lap with her eyes downcast, thinking about something of her own. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. After all, this cannot even be considered as such a deception, just a way to cope with the loss.

Cautiously glancing at his wristwatch, Leon saw what time it was and realized that Jane usually falls asleep at this time, but leaving her alone at such a moment... After kissing her on the forehead, Leon easily lifted her into his arms, feeling her arms around his neck as he carried her to your shared bedroom. You didn't even have time to understand anything, just watching with wide eyes as he nods at you in the direction of the door.

"We're not going to cry anymore, are we?" he asked D/N, and although she wiped her cheeks, she still shrugged her shoulders from ignorance, "I bought us all ice cream, so now we're going to wash our faces with you, and then mom will bring us a bucket of ice cream and the three of us will eat and watch cartoon, how do you like this plan?"

Finally she smiled nodding her head in agreement. How could you object? While they were washing in the bathroom, you straightened the bed, took a pillow and a blanket from the nursery and put them in the middle of the bed, then went downstairs, took them out of the freezer, not forgetting the spoons. By the time you returned to the room, Leon and D/N had already selected a cartoon, launched it for viewing and were waiting only for you.

laying down next to her side of the bed, dimming the light, you could see Jane was tired, but she still ate ice cream for a while, after which she settled comfortably under Leon's armpit, falling asleep pretty quickly without watching the cartoon. At least you can all get some sleep.

"So all pets go to heaven?" You asked quietly as you got into bed and watched Leon carefully place Jane's head on the pillow so that he could take a bath and go to bed himself.

He just sighed, grabbing a towel and a set of clothes from the closet, turning to you, speaking in a whisper so as not to wake the child.

"So be it. In the end, despite all the cat's antics, I also want to believe that this cat is now somewhere where he is good." He bent down to leave a short kiss on your lips.

"You don't believe it," you said, stopping him in the aisle, forcing him to turn around and look at you again. "Allright, the main thing is that it worked and she was able to calm down a little."

Leon looked at you sadly as you put the empty bucket on the bedside table lying down next to D/N. After all, it was difficult for you too, but crying in front of a child was unacceptable. However, he knew that you were the one who sheltered Oliver, which is why his death hurt you no less, if not more.

"It doesn't matter what I believe, with my job it's hard to believe in something like that, but now I really want to think that all pets go to heaven. And not only them..."

Fair or not, you both lay in bed for a long time without falling asleep, listening to your daughter's childish snores. After the shower, Leon held your hand for a long time in silence, realizing that it was not only Jane who really needed comfort, but you too.

All pets go to heaven... falling asleep you also wanted to believe that your Oliver is now in a place where he will never feel bad or that perhaps he will really come back again in the form of another cat.

[cfyslvr]

Nightmares

→ author's note: my first suna fic 👹 mini story time of how I got this idea: a few days ago I had a little nightmare and since ur girl is a little baby (I'm so cringe it's not even funny anymore, someone pls just execute me already) I was really shaken but bc I'm a lonely hoe I had no one to comfort me 😞💔 but lucky y/n does! so here's a short fic of suna basically just comforting y/n after a nightmare!!

→ warnings: maybe a bit ooc(?), a teensy-weensy bit of angst 🤏🏻, pet names (love, princess, crybaby), a bit rushed

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it was a quiet night, the only thing that could he heard was the faint sound of rain falling outside your window. you were laying in bed next to your boyfriend, rintarou. it wasn't a rare occasion that he stayed over, infact, since the two of you have been together for a year now, he would often come by after practice uninvited, but your parents never really minded, they seemed to really like him since he was making their daughter happy.

right now, rintarou's back was facing you, not because you two fought, but because by the time you finished showering, he was already fast asleep at the edge of the bed, so you didn't really have space to squeeze into his arms and just decided to lay down on the other side of the bed.

───󠀠───────────────────────────

"we need to talk." you heard your boyfriend say as the two of you walked up to the roof of the school. his behavior felt different, usually when you two went to lunch together, he would be holding your hand and letting you cling to him like a koala, but now, he barely even looked at you, although you tried brushing it off with him being upset over the fact he was scolded for coming to volleyball practice late yesterday because he was too busy hanging out with you.

"of course, love. what's wrong?" you ask. you didn't like the way the conversation started, but you tried not to overthink it, it was probably just your brain tricking you by making you think of the worst case scenario.

rintarou looked back at you, but it wasn't the usual affectionate look that he usually gave you, his eyes seemed.. cold, which made you even more anxious.

"I think we should break up." you felt your heart sink when you heard his words. where was this coming from? you thought your relationship was the best thing that ever happened to both of you and he wanted to break up?! you felt your eyes welling up with tears as you let out a nervous laugh.

"you're joking, right? y-you know it's not funny to joke about these things.." you mumbled out, hoping he would give you that signature smirk of his and say it was a prank, but all you received from him was a cold glare.

"look y/n.. I think you're a great girl and all, but you're just a distraction to me. how many times did I get scolded because of you at practice? I'm sorry, but I want to focus on volleyball and our relationship is stopping me from doing so." you wanted the ground to open and swallow you whole. no no no, this wasn't happening..

"w-wait.. no, rin, please.. please don't leave me, I'll do better, I swear I will!" you tried to beg, reaching out to grab his hand, but he quickly retrieved it before you could touch him.

"goodbye, y/n". he said coldly and walked away, leaving you shaking and sobbing on the roof of the school.

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your eyes shot open and you gasped, looking around and realizing you were in your room, and rintarou was still sleeping soundly next to you. it was just a dream.. you try to tell yourself, but you couldn't help the tears running down your face. it just felt too real, and the mere thought of suna leaving you sent a harsh shiver down your spine. you look back at rintarou, he looked absolutely adorable while sleeping and you almost felt bad waking him up, but you couldn't help it, you needed his reassurance badly.

"rin.." you gently tap his shoulder. no response.

"rinnie.." you try again, lightly shaking him. this time, his fox like eyes opened up partially, and basically doubled in size when he heard your soft sobs. he immediately turned around and saw you, tears streaming down your face as you held your hand against your mouth in order to silence any sounds that threatened to leave your lips.

"what's wrong, princess?" he asked, his voice even deeper and sleepier than usual as he wrapped his strong arms around you in a comforting manner. the second you felt his arms holding you, you immediately burst into quiet sobs, trying not to be too loud so you don't wake your parents up. rintarou was confused, to say the least, he didn't quite understand why you were suddenly crying, but he still didn't let you go, his arms still wrapped tightly around you as one of his hands gently stroked your hair. you tried to choke back tears in order to explain yourself, but he stopped you.

"I'm here, princess, take your time, I'm not going anywhere." he whispered into your ear and kissed the top of your head. gosh, his voice was even more attractive when he was sleepy, and the way he was whispering comfortingly to you made him that much more attractive. after a few minutes, you finally calmed down enough to start talking.

"I had a nightmare, it was- you were- you broke up with me.. b-because I was a distraction and you wanted to focus on volleyball and- and-"

"shh.." he cut you off, placing another kiss on your head before continuing. "it was just a dream, love, I would never do that to you. infact, I'd rather quit volleyball forever than leave you because of it." he whispered reassuringly. you were surprised when you heard his words, you knew just how much he enjoyed volleyball, so the thought of him quitting for you was quite a surprise, but also extremely comforting to hear.

"I'll never leave you, my princess, I promise you that." rintarou placed his hand under your chin and gently lifted it up, making you look up at him. he smiled when he saw your pouty expression and gently wiped your tears before leaning in to kiss your pouty lips. "I love you, you crybaby.." he teased.

"shut up.." you mumbled out and hid your face in his chest. "I love you too.." the soft smile on rintarou's face turned into a playful smirk when he heard your response.

"c'mon, let's go back to sleep." he suggested and slowly laid down, pulling you on top of him so that your head was resting on his chest and gave him a perfect position to wrap his strong arms around you protectively.

"it was just a nightmare, okay? I promise I'll never leave you. you're my one and only, and nothing matters to me more than you." he reassured you one last time and gave you another kiss on the head before closing his eyes.

"I love you.." you mumbled into his chest.

"I love you too, my princess.." he responded groggily, already half asleep. with that, both of you eventually fell asleep, although now that you were in his arms, you were safe from all nightmares..

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© cfyslvr 2024 | please don't steal or repost my work on other platforms !! | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated !!

[alavestineneas]

Glass and mirrors

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader summary: There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one. warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of mental illness, narcissism, blonde men who need therapy, unhinged women, people in shitty relationships and toxic industries word count: 4.6k PART TWO IS HERE

author's note: Hello and welcome to our small community of people who have fallen victim to the charming (and evil) blonde man! This fic is heavily inspired by the edits of models that pop up on my ticktock feed every day. Shout out to them and the talented editors who bless my eyes with their creations. As for YN this time, prepare to be on quite a ride because she, surprise-surprise, is evil! In my head, there has to be at least one victor who feels no remorse at all; they can't all be morally good (and relatively sane) people. Also, the obsession with beauty in this fic is, in fact, intentional, so bear with me. Feel free to comment or insult the author in the comments, but only if you are creative with it. Enjoy and see you in part 2!

In all of her short childhood, she always loved mirrors. Her grandma used to joke about it with her old friends while they shared lunch at the factory: ''That empty-headed child wants to do nothing but stare at herself all day.'' The women would laugh, their raspy voices making the glid, already filled with toxic fumes to the brim, hotter. YN didn't mind; she would pretend not to hear them, clinging to the machinery in front of her instead. She would get out of here sooner or later, and she'd see whose laughter would be left echoing all through the narrow streets.

She wasn't born to rot in this place like these people were; YN was sure of that. Not with a face like hers, with manners she taught herself from the bright magic box in their cramped commune apartment, where a few times a year the government played the show. It was supposed to be a punishment, YN reminded herself each time, but it didn't look like one. She watched the children eat more food than she had seen in a month and then cry on the stage in front of millions. She wouldn't cry if she was there, that was for certain. People die every day here, but none of them get to dress up in the jewels provided by the wealthiest people she has ever seen.

It was funny how they had all the money in the world and still chose to dress so horribly. Mismatched fabrics and smudged colours on their faces, like the colours of the lake near her house—the factories polluted it with dyes, turning the water green, purple, and sometimes even pink. That's how she got her old grey dress to be such a pretty lavender colour. It didn't matter that everyone at school laughed at her, even Miss Kyla; she was horrendously ugly anyway, her hair resembling the colour of unwashed underwear. YN wore her dress with pride, mimicking the voice of the funny multicolour-haired man on the screen, chatting with long o's and a's.

That's how she ended up here, on the first floor of the newly renovated training centre, with a drink in her freshly manicured hand. She had two hours before her stylists would need her again—a time designated for sleep, which she apparently so greatly lacks. YN doesn't care; she went without sleep for much longer than two days. Instead, she does what she loves the most—turns on a shiny screen and watches the golden letters appear: the 15th Annual Hunger Games.

It starts with reaping, as always, but YN skips that part—she doesn't like seeing herself in those dirty rags, although, as papers would later state, ''nothing could make this girl ugly, even if a potato sack was put on her body.'' She likes interviews better. Luckily, the wait is not very long; soon enough, her favourite host pops up, his hair shimmering with sea green.

''And now, our dear viewers, I am more than pleased to announce our next tribute from District 1—please let her hear how excited we are to meet her!'' His voice booms through the theatre as the crowd erupts into applause.

YN moves gracefully, a beaming smile on her face matching that of a host. Her gloved hands wave at the supposed people in front of her as if they were guests at her birthday party. But most importantly, dress. The one she chose herself, arguing over it with her stylist for the last few hours, the one that fitted her perfectly. Capitol enough to appeal to the audience, district enough to highlight that she isn't one of them—she is something new, undiscovered, and worth keeping an eye on. It's almost not a dress at all—the sparkling, sheer fabric of beautiful white, with stars gathering at her chest and bottom to finish the ''almost naked'' look. And the crowd goes crazy for it. People shout, and the splashes of the cameras blinding her create a new melody that is so unfamiliar to YN's ears. Admiration. The thing she craved for so long.

''Alright, alright,'' Lucky Flickerman smiles, gesturing for the crowd to settle down. ''We don't want to scare her off now, do we?'' He turns to her, a microphone in hand. ''What's your name, sweetheart?''

''YN Y/L/N. And I am afraid you can't scare me off, no matter how hard you try. The thing is, I am here to stay,'' she jokes, cocking an eyebrow at the man beside her.

''Oh, how I love your confidence! Now tell me—we heard you are a volunteer—the first in the history of District 1! Are there any special ties to the girl who was supposed to stand here tonight, or what's going on?''

''Well, I was dying to see you in person, of course—no pun intended.''

Oh, there weren't any ties to the girl, or the boy, for that matter. No, YN simply wanted to go at her peak chance of winning—countless years of secret preparation in the factory; working a night shift after school and full days of weekends; hours of studying every plant and animal known to mankind—all to ensure that she wouldn't waste her chance like most kids here did.

''That's an honour coming from your lips; we are happy to see you in the Capitol, Miss Y/L/N. Since you came here by choice, what strategy are you planning on using in the arena? Maybe something tied to your district's craft?''

''If you promise to keep this between us, I'll confess—I will use my charms to make everyone fall in love with me and watch them fight by promising the winner a kiss—and then I will take it from there.'' YN turns to face the lights, staring directly into the camera for a few seconds. The crowd laughs once more, some going so far as to cheer and whistle in excitement. ''But in all honesty, I think I have a fair shot—I would win in a day if it meant the unlimited supply of those amazing cupcakes with sprinkles on top.''

''Well, in that case, you should definitely get a good rest this night—you are not the only one who got your eye on them! Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for the Cupcake Games tomorrow, and don't forget to sponsor this lovely girl right here if you want to see her win! And now, a short word from our sponsors.''

Cupcake jokes are still funny to her, even after two years, although she got sick of them a week after her victory and was just as sick of all the titles papers came up with to fit her into the candy girl box. It served her well, for which she is grateful; the sponsors did send her a shitton of things, although mostly useless.

Next is the introduction of everyone else; YN doesn't care to look at it for more than just a few seconds, speeding it up to maximum. It's boring to no end—how do Capitolees watch it every year with such excitement? She stops to look only when her face appears on the screen, covered in crimson blood.

She counted six canons when she finally stopped to take a breath in and look at her surroundings. That was about right, although YN didn't count how many times she pulled a knife out of somebody's still-warm body and lurched into another nearby. The sand soaked up the blood fast, she noticed, stepping over the pile of what used to be her competitors and walking towards the cone-shaped something. Nobody in sight—each one of the ''better'' kids is now dead without a chance to kill each other, to kill her, and ''others'' will die like flies under the hot sun of what looked like a desert. YN noticed that some even left behind the given jackets; she collected them before stepping into the Cornucopia, claiming them as her own. Not everyone grew up in hot factories, she thought to herself, so they have no chance of knowing how cold it gets at night.

YN doesn't like how the uniform looks on her; the T-shirt hangs around her frame too loosely. It's evident that she didn't eat enough back then, but it was tolerable. The dried blood looked worse; with her stoic face and eye colour, the streams looked too grotesque, almost unserious; it didn't fit the look she was going for. Her hands itch to wipe it before YN remembers that it's non-existent now—the girl on the screen is just a recording. She forwards a little more, looking for the commentary of the first night from the hosts—their excitement and praise never get old—but hears knocking at her door just as she is about to press play. YN glances at the clock—it's too early for the prep team, so it must be someone else—and turns off the TV just to be sure she heard it right.

When the knocking continues, she shouts a quick ''Come in,'' after checking her reflection on the now dark screen. ''Ah, Maggie!''

''How many times do I have to repeat that my name is Mags, not Maggie? Not Mags with fangs either, to be clear. Just Mags.''

''But everyone calls you that! And I want to be special,'' YN whines, laying back on the sofa.

It's Mags. YN likes Mags. Mags is the only girl besides her on the victors' list. Mags is the one who is always down to eat lunch together or to watch the new collection in the magazines. She is funny and down to earth, and, most importantly, Mags doesn't take bullshit from anyone.

''Even more special?'' Mags smiles, opening the fridge to look for something edible. There isn't much; they both know that YN would never eat something to ruin her figure. ''I saw your photoshoot on the street today. It's beautiful.''

''Thank you,'' YN smiles. She doesn't remember which one of her campaigns was supposed to air today, but it doesn't matter. ''Are you here for the promo again?''

The curly-haired woman nods, not looking up from the shelves. ''I hate it. I wish they would just leave me alone, so I can go home and forget about all of this.''

YN is always weirded out by such comments from Victor from 4 but never says anything. Not everyone was born to be in front of the camera; if that were the case, her talent wouldn't be so special anymore. ''It's our job, Maggie. They'll never leave us alone.''

''I know.'' Mags sighed, planting her body on the sofa beside her.

They are different, but YN thinks it's better that way. They are the same age, both 20, and that's about the only thing that ties them together. YN watches as her friend's chest rises and falls as she stares at the ceiling, her long, curly hair in some type of twist. YN would never style it like that, but Mags doesn't ask, so she stares at her in silence, trying her hardest not to compare them. She knows what type of conclusion will sparkle in her brain, but she doesn't want to admit it. Mags is her friend, her only good friend, so something inside YN fights hard to leave her alone. It's an unusual feeling, almost foreign, but YN wants to make an exception. She thinks Maggie deserves it.

''Are you okay?'' the woman asks her, finally snapping out of her trance. ''You are less talkative than usual.''

''Oh, yeah—just a little tired from work, that's it.''

Work. It's not the type of work people can really get tired from, and if anybody thinks otherwise, they never worked a day in District 1. Sometimes, YN can still feel the burning cloud of steam hitting her face when she closes her eyes. The work she does in Capitol is child's play—photoshoots, interviews, promotional campaigns, and runways. She is the only one with this kind of hectic schedule, the only one who is interesting enough for the general public to want to see her everywhere they go. Multiple shows a day wasn't uncommon; photoshoots until five a.m. were basically her usual routine; she did so many of them that she never remembered the brand name for more than an hour.

''Well, I hope I don't interrupt your me-time,'' Mags notes. ''Panem knows you need it. ''

''You worry too much about me. Better tell me about how life is in 4—anything new?''

There is probably nothing exciting, but it feels nice to listen to somebody talk with such love for their home as Mags does. It's also a great opportunity. YN catches every subtle expression and every movement of her friend with attentive eyes, making sure to parrot them later. She noticed from the recording today that her speech misses a certain effortlessness.

-

Curl and twist, curl and twist—YN has learned the pattern by now, sitting in front of the gigantic mirror, surrounded by a team of stylists. Hair, make-up, nails, and toes—five people work hand in hand for her to appear for two minutes on the long podium. The backstage is loud, and a lot is going on—last-minute changes, alterations, and quick touch-ups. YN doesn't bother to look around; she closes today like a face of the collection, and after she is done with this podium, the day is finally coming to an end.

''Oh, YN, darling, here you are!'' The bald man in his forties appears on the horizon of her peripheral vision, clasping his unnaturally white hands together. ''How are you doing, my little star? Anything you need?''

She is irritated to no end; her team booked seven shows for her today; she hadn't had anything to eat in the past six hours; and the loud music makes her head throb. But she doesn't voice any of that—nobody really wants to know how she is feeling.

Just like she guessed, the man doesn't wait for her response. ''There have been some changes in the order today, sweetheart. Jenovia will be closing today, and you will walk in her dress instead,'' the man says, turning to face her styling team. ''Change the hair to fit, and take off the blue in her make-up—it won't match. Good luck!''

''Do what he says,'' YN announces, her mouth twitching just a little. She is furious. To have that blonde bitch Jenovia walk in the best dress of the collection YN inspired? Over her dead body. Or, should she say, over Jenovia's? She will figure it out but do so later. Now there are only four girls before her, so she needs to be ready.

''Three, two, one! Go, go!'' the stage coordinator shouts, opening the curtain for her.

Right and left, hip and hand, followed by the strong clicking of her five-inch heels. The music is even louder here, with the beets vibrating through the runway and pouring into her bloodstream. She doesn't pay any attention to the glass floor underneath her. Surprisingly, her training before games helped her model more than one could guess. YN doesn't see anyone but the blinding lights lining the podium—not that she needs to see the hungry faces of the spectators. It doesn't matter what piece of fabric covers her body; they are looking at who wears it. Final pose at the centre—no smile is her go-to. Hold and turn is the golden rule.

''Here you are!'' One of the seamstresses grabs her hand, pulling her into a small, curtained space with countless clothes on racks. ''Calio wants you to hold a purse for the backstage photo and lose the belt. Where the fuck is the golden belt?'' she shouts, searching for one. ''Wait here; I'll go find it,'' she finally announces, running away before YN has the chance to suggest anything.

YN looks around, carefully moving the laying rags with her foot. She mentally goes over the outfits labelled with names, rating them one by one, until her eyes stop on the white dress. The closing dress, the one she was supposed to model. Underneath it are velvety black high boots.

The idea comes to her mind quickly: she steals a needle from the nearby table and carefully places it inside the shoes, making sure it looks like an accident.

''Finally,'' the woman returns with a belt in her hands, oblivious to YN's half-smile. ''Put it on and go; they are already waiting.''

''Of course, thanks.''

YN isn't sure how much time has passed before she hears a scream, standing up from her place in the corner with a blanket around her exposed shoulders. Surely enough, Jenovia is on the floor, crying crocodile tears—a needle inside her heel deep enough to make a few of the girls around her gag.

''What the fuck happened?'' It's Calio, the boss here; he was ordering her around before.

''I don't know,'' all the blonde girl can manage before bursting into tears one more time.

''Well, can you walk?'' he asks, kneeling to take a look.

''No,'' Jenovia whispers, her hand holding her bloodied foot.

The bald man sighed, more annoyed than concerned. ''We need a replacement. You,'' he points at YN. ''Take it off and change into the dress. Quick!''

YN does what she is told in no time; she doesn't want to wait until Jenovia suddenly gets better or the man finds a better-suited girl to close. After a few minutes, she is almost ready; she only needs the lipstick to finish it off.

''We don't have time!'' the man roars, dragging her to the exit. ''Here!'' He puffs out her hair and adjusts the layers of fake pearls covering her neck. ''Three, two, one! Go, fucking go!''

And go she does. A few steps on the runway, and she discovers that lipstick is still in her hands. YN puts it in the pocket of the enormously large black coat that hides the gorgeous white dress underneath. Step after step, her long black boots draw patterns on the glass. She will have no choice but to buy them; YN doesn't care if it's stupid. They helped her, so she will have them.

It's time for the final pose: YN takes out the lipstick from her pocket and applies it with two swift motions, blowing a kiss to the camera. It will definitely be a hit with the photographers. YN throws one last look before turning around and returning to the curtained exit. On her way back, when the lights lower to follow her back, she can see a little clearer. In the sea of vibrant hair colours and clothes, the platinum-blonde hair and a simple black suit stood out too much not to notice. There is only one person who could afford to look so simple—YN knows it. An opportunity of a lifetime.

She makes another stop in the middle of the podium, right in front of his seat. The coat slides off her shoulders effortlessly, and YN catches it just when the fabric is about to hit the floor. The crowd goes crazy, clapping and whistling at her tricks, but YN has no wish to entertain them any further. YN pauses for a moment, her eyes meeting icy-blue ones, before turning away and finishing the show. There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one.

-

Since the last show, she has done fifteen more—day after day, opening and closing. Her little trick got her where she wanted to be, with more money than one person could need in a lifetime and nowhere to spend it. Even now, standing in the long hallway of the training centre, she wears nothing she bought herself; all are gifted, sent, or handed by the adoring fans. Like a rag doll, with no say in how she looks or what she does, YN hears everyone say that it was ''a price of fame''. She doesn't think so; she was told what to do long before she tasted real butter on her toast.

The sliding door to her apartment moves almost without noise. While most victors complain that the lock system reminds them of prison, YN is grateful to have it. The thought of some crazy fanatic waiting for her in the dark isn't the most pleasant one. The designer bag finds its place on the floor, soon joined by the coat—room service will clean it up later. The heels slide off her feet quickly, leaving bloodied marks on her skin, but YN doesn't care enough to do something about them.

''Forgive me for joining you without an invitation.''

YN turns around, her hands grabbing the keys in her hands tighter. She mentally goes over her means of escape or fight—a mirror could easily be broken and used as a weapon; if necessary, she could also grab a nearby ottoman. The man in the chair doesn't look too impressed with her thought process. His lips curve into a smile, blue eyes staring at her with undivided attention. A suit, not very different from the one he wore at her show, was a deep brown colour.

''Mister President,'' YN breathes out, lowering her hand.

Coriolanus Snow. Light, almost white hair frames his face like a halo, with his suit hugging his waist just enough to highlight the broad shoulders. YN saw him on TV a couple of times, but seeing him in person was something entirely different. It's like the air shifts around him and changes with his presence.

''I believe we met before,'' he humours her, his eyes shining with mischief.

The light knocking on the door doesn't leave YN any time to answer. She presses a button near it, fixing her hair before opening it. YN tries to look as composed as possible without betraying her nerves—why was he here? ''Yes?''

''The dinner, Ma'am.'' the room service declares, pushing a cart in front of her.

YN nods, even though she didn't order one. ''Leave it here,'' she says, gesturing to the place nearby. When the door closes and she is alone with the man in her room again, her heart skips a beat.

''I took the liberty of ordering; I hope you don't mind.''

Even if she did, she knew better than to say anything. Instead, YN watched as the man stood up and took the dishes from the cart, placing them on the coffee table, before turning to her once more.

''Please, have a seat.''

She does what she is told, sitting down on her king-sized bed—the chair is already taken by him—and waits for the blonde man to start speaking. He doesn't right away, choosing to pour a glass of wine for her and himself.

YN watches the dark liquor pour into the glass, swirling with each drop. She isn't hungry—she rarely was—and the soup he ordered looks more like vomit than a dish, but she still takes the spoon and carefully places it into her mouth. Her lipstick stains the silverware with colour, leaving a small circle right at the end—that's when the man finally decides to speak.

''Dare I say I am a huge fan of your work ethic? Everyone who I've spoken to is very satisfied with your,'' he pauses, searching for the fitting word, ''dedication .''

''Thank you, Mister President,'' YN replies with a polite smile before returning to her soup. She watches him only from the corner of her eye. The way he cuts his steak with his ringed fingers and the way he places a small bite in his mouth before his lips close. There is a subtle roughness in his movements, a power play of some sort.

He catches her gaze and, for a moment, is silent. ''You probably wonder why I am here in the first place, outside of the amazing steak they cook here, of course. The thing is, Miss Y/L/N, that you are popular not only with the general public but with people higher in power as well. One may even say they fell in love with the way you present yourself.''

''I am pleased to know that, Mr. President, but I am only doing my job as a victor.''

''Then you will understand the weight of my dilemma. Those people who have served Panem all their lives faithfully usually don't ask for much recognition; they work because they want to build a better future for all of us. So, when they do ask for a small favour or two, I am more than happy to satisfy them. But recently, all they ask for is you .''

''I believe I don't quite understand. They want to meet me?''

''You can phrase it like that, yes. For a night or two, of course, with all expenses covered.''

It's heavy, the understanding of what Mister President really implies. The thought of someone's hand roaming her body brings her dinner up YN's throat. ''Why?'' Her voice is shakier than she would like, but she is more focused on composing the rising anger than noticing it.

''I am sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but I am afraid there is nothing I can do; I am greatly outnumbered. Unless,'' he starts but doesn't finish his sentence.

''Unless what?''

''Unless you are seen with me.''

His piercing blue eyes look at her, but there is nothing in them. Her chances are limited, and he knows it. There is something rogue in him beneath the veil of chivalry he offers. YN smiles at him. That's what this whole charade was about—he wants her. Coriolanus Snow, the most powerful man in the whole world, wants her.

''Of course, Mr. President. That's very generous of you.''

''Mister President is too official, don't you think, Miss Y/L/N? Perhaps we could find a more informal way of addressing each other?''

''Informal?'' YN asks, tilting her head to the side. If he wants her, he'll get her. ''What about Mister Snow?'' The buttons on her shirt are easy to manage—a few quick motions, and it slides off her shoulders onto the cream cover. ''Or, Sir Coriolanus?'' The pants are a little trickier, but YN learned that backstage, every second counts, so they soon also pool around her heels, the fabric hitting the floor with a slight thud.

The blonde man watches her intently, his eyes following every move of her hands. His legs are still spread wide on the lime-green chair as he slightly leans back. YN can't tell if he is enjoying her antics or not, but frankly, she doesn't care; she is enjoying it.  The way her shadow dances on the wall, the way the air shifts in the huge room, transforming it into a tiny stage. YN looks at him with mischief, with superiority, even. After all, she is the show here. Why not let Mr. Savior think it is for him?

''Come, Mister Snow,'' she says, throwing it in his face like a bone to the dog.

He doesn't have the haste to join her; on the contrary, he stands up painfully slowly. His tall figure almost seems to stretch as he raises, covering the floor lamp behind him fully. When he finally circles the table to stand above her, his presence is overwhelming. YN lets him stand between her legs, his unusually cold hand on her thigh.

''I prefer Coriolanus,'' he whispers in her ear, lowering himself enough to touch her ear with his velvety lips. He pulls away slightly, planting a kiss on her cheek instead. ''Have a most pleasant night, Miss Y/L/N.''

And then he walks away. YN watches as his figure disappears behind the sliding door before she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her gaze instinctively finds her reflection in the nearby mirror; there is no reason to shine if no one watches her.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 31: halloween costumes

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

First I want to thank all the people who followed this during the month, I honestly never thought I would be able to join this kind of events, and I am very happy with the reception that each work received, you are incredible and made my days the best! I Hope this last one is to your liking, I send you a hug wherever you are

Deciding on an individual costume is already difficult, so you weren't surprised when you realized that a couple costume involved a bigger concern.

Halloween had finally arrived and you had practically begged Spencer to find a couple's costume for the party the FBI was hosting, something not really official, but with most of the agents, at the bar your friend David Rossi had chosen.

“Any suggestions for our outfit?” you had asked the man, once you convinced him to match his costume with yours.

Spencer thought about it for a while and although many of the options he gave you sounded excellent, there was the detail of the short time you had to get things or the disadvantage that few people would be able to recognize the theme of your costume.

“It has to be something practical and known,” you had murmured, when both of you were sitting on the couch at dinner time and a children's channel filled the void in the room.

Until, watching TV, you finally figured it out: you had the perfect option right in front of your eyes and you never saw it.

So it was that on the night of the 31st, quite happy and satisfied with the choice you made, you drove to the place and let him behave like a gentleman by opening the car door for you.

“Are you sure I look good?”

“You've never looked more handsome” you smiled at him, trying to calm his anxiety, while both of you walked hand in hand towards the entrance.

You didn't have to wait long to see your friends and, as you expected, they were comically surprised at you.

“No way…” Morgan had laughed, looking at you up and down. “Pretty boy in bell-bottoms? Now that's something I didn't think I'd see."

Shaggy and Velma from Scooby Doo. That was you two.

It was true that Spencer was wearing brown bell-bottom pants that you had gotten at a thrift store. You also searched your closet and luckily found a v-neck shirt in the perfect color. Unfortunately, your boyfriend had recently cut his hair and you wished you had thought about the costume more in advance so he could show off his long locks just like the animated character.

You had bought a few things from your all-orange outfit, but the bonus with you was that you could wear them later. When Spencer saw you, he was stunned and didn't waste the opportunity to compliment you extensively.

“What can we tell you? They solve mysteries and catch monsters, it's almost like our job”

"How nice!" murmured JJ, who had just arrived accompanied by her husband Will. Both of them were dressed as vampires “I loved Scooby Doo when I was a kid. My favorite was always Daphne.”

“I don't know why that doesn't surprise me,” joked Emily, who was dressed as the bride of Frankenstein's monster and drank from a glass with an unknown concoction.

“You should have told us and we could have done a group costume,” she smiled, while she looked at Will, hinting that they could have been the other couple on the show.

"Clear. You Daphne, him Fred and Morgan would have been the dog”

A collective laugh filled the place where even Derek, the affected one, smiled while he pointed a finger at you.

“Guess who was my favorite,” you murmured, a little more to your boyfriend than the others.

“Huh, Velma?”

“It was Shaggy!” you replied amused, while you took his arm to plant a kiss on his cheek.

“Reid looks a little like Velma if you think about it. You know, with all those facts and statistics and they're the damn nerd of the group”

Spencer blushed slightly at the comparison and didn't think of anything clever to answer because, sadly, Morgan was right this time.

You complimented the others' costumes and everyone agreed that you were looking forward to seeing Penelope Garcia and her extravagant clothes, since she hadn’t yet honored you with her presence. After that the group started talking about something else and soon the two of you were no longer the center of attention, allowing you to take the man's hand and sneak over to the drinks bar to look for something to cool your throat with. 

“Does this have alcohol?” your boyfriend asked the bartender over the noise of the music, making you laugh lightly. When he checked that the drink was safe, he took one and made sure to order your favorite cocktail afterwards.

“If you think about it a little, we are both more like each other's characters,” you murmured thoughtfully, because what your friend had said seemed to have echoed in your head. “Shaggy was always clumsy and an enthusiastic eater. Like me"

“You're not clumsy.”

"I am. But not in a bad way, not like being an idiot or something, but like something…”

“Cute and adorable?” he completed.

"Exactly. You always know what I'm thinking."

“Despite I agree, I think the costume wouldn't have worked at all that way,” your boyfriend smiled, approaching you to grab your waist. Because of the heels your height was more balanced and he only needed to extend his hands a little to reach your body.

"Why?"

“Don't get me wrong, but I don't think that skirt would have looked good on me at all” you let out a loud laugh at this, realizing what he was referring to “Although you, on the other hand…” while he spoke one of his hands slid down until he slapped your butt, startling you slightly “you look gorgeous in it”

“You have all night to figure out how to take it off,” you said flirtatiously. Now it was Reid who held his breath “I'm wearing something underneath that I make sure matches the rest of the outfit and that I think you'll love”

The wink you gave him was enough to make him nervous and, evidently, excited by the images that his skillful mind was already beginning to generate.

Once you got your cocktail you returned to the hustle and bustle but your velvety voice couldn't leave Spencer's mind, who couldn't wait for the night to end because he was sure that the best candy he would receive this Halloween would be you.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey

[mccn-bcys]

JUST A TOUCH OF YOUR HAND pt. 3

pairing: moonboys x fem!reader

summary: jake finally makes his debut to ask the reader a question the boys have been dying to ask. reader gives her answer and jake is just a cutie.

warning: jake (he's a warning, yes), just some nice fluff for ya.

authors note: okay ik a lot of you have been wanting this chapter for a long time (sorry about the long wait, I had a lot going on the past couple of months). this chapter isn't as long as the others but it just felt right to have this one be short and sweet. the next chapter, maybe we'll see some more of marc 😏🤭

word count: 1,028

and then there was jake. it was funny actually. he'd been dreaming of meeting his soulmate since he had gotten the stain. and he had so badly wanted to meet you when you first brushed against their hand on the sidewalk that day.

god how he wanted to meet you. and yet he couldn't make himself front. even when steven or marc would hand it over to him, especially when you'd plan days to meet and spend with him, he just couldn't front.

none of them understood it. it's like he'd freeze up. it was eating him up. he was pretty sure he was in love with you – actually he was positive he was in love with you. and he'd never even actually met you!

you, being the amazing person you were, were so patient with him. whenever you'd see the boys on the days you were going to meet jake, and find out he wasn't fronting, you'd have marc or steven tell him you didn't mind waiting.

"you boys are all worth waiting for," you'd say, making them melt.

and jake would try more to front around you and it just wouldn't happen. he couldn't figure out why. although on a deeper level, he knew why.

he supposed he wasn't much different than marc. as much of a hopeless romantic as he was, he also knew his reputation. it was said reputation that caused him to romanticize the thought of a soulmate. he never really thought himself capable of being loved. if marc thought his hands were stained with blood, jake was swimming in it.

if he was realistic, he couldn't imagine why you would love him. he was ruthless, he could be cold, he had a tendency to shut people out if they got too close.

But he wanted you to get too close. He wanted to able to talk to you, learn about you and not through the other two. He wanted to hold you and comfort you, and be held and be comforted by you.

but like marc, he'd been scared. scared you'd run for it, if you knew him. everyone else did.

and yet here you were: sitting across the table, smiling so wide, eyes so patient, like he's your favorite person in the world. if you kept going, he's sure he would probably cry.

"jake?" you called cautiously, breaking him from his thoughts. his eyes snap to yours, smiling at you. he thinks: 'they're right...the way she says our names is addicting.'

"sí, amor?" he answers softly, but you seem to brighten up even more.

"yes," you simply said.

his eyebrows furrow. had he asked a question?

yes, you did, you bloody idiot!

holy shit...she actually said yes...

"yes?" he repeated, since his alters weren't helping him at all.

you laughed at that, at him seemingly forgetting his own question. he loved that sound.

"you asked me to move in," you reminded him patiently.

"and you said yes?"

"I did."

"but you don't know me," he tries to reason, because how on earth would you have agreed to move in with the mess of these three men?

"I know that i love marc and steven, and if I love them, i already love you too," were you trying to kill him?

"why?"

that threw you for a loop. you hadn't been expecting it. why did you love this man you've never actually met?

"well...for starters, we're soulmates-"

"that doesn't mean that I'm not a terrible person." steven had warned you of this. that he might try to talk of himself like this.

"but you're not-"

"you don't know that."

"except that I do."

"how could you possibly know that?"

"because I just do-"

"amor, that's not an answ-"

"I know because you're a weirdo who wears gloves while he drives a limo. You send a bouquet of my favorite flowers every time you can't front when we planned. I know because I can feel you follow me home every night after work when you're patrolling, making sure I get home safe. I know because marc's told me that you can't pass a cat without petting it. I know because I *know.* You're a *good man,* jake," you say, looking at him completely serious.

and for the first time in a long time, every voice in his head is silent. they're at a loss for words. there's this strange feeling in jake's heart and he's never felt it before.

what is that, he thinks.

that's love, jake.

it feels like a heart attack.

yeah...it's great, innit?

you watch him closely while he's silent, watching to see if you've overstepped somehow. to try and see what he's feeling. amd when he stands, you're worried he's leaving. that he's going to change his mind about wanting you to move in.

but he quickly crosses over to you and he cups your face, gentle as he is urgent, and leans down and kisses you, deeply, passionately. and for a moment, you're confused. but you quickly kiss him back, matching his energy, his passion. after a moment, he pulls away, both of you panting lightly, breathless from the kiss. he presses his forehead to yours, looking into your eyes so intensely you swear he can see your soul.

"te amo jodidamente mucho," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

"I love you too," you say back softly, meaning every word.

jake has feel that twist in his heart again, but he knows what it is now. it's love. and it's strange and foreign but...he thinks he likes it. he feels like he's never smiled so wide in his life. he presses one more soft kiss to your lips before moving back to his seat at the table.

"so...tell me about these gloves you bought me," he grins.

and you start talking about them, explaining every detail about them and why you thought he'd like them. he swears he's never smiled so dopey in his life, talking to you about anything and everything you wanted to talk about. he'd finally fronted and he'll be damned if he doesn't take advantage of every single second he gets with you.

______________________________________________________________

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[starlightsuffered]

Christmas Breeding

Info - infertility issues, soft Dom Timothée, pregnant reader, pregnant sex, breeding kink, cock warming

The day had been done slowly. Timothée wanted to cherish every moment he had with me. I did as well but ! was desperate for him to get to my surprise.

Timothée and I had been married for four years. We'd been trying desperately to get pregnant for the last two.

He'd been extremely discouraged when time after time the test was negative.

He'd decided that he would take off all of December so we could focus on just fucking. We made love on every surface of the house imaginable. However, when l'd ask if he wanted to check on my potential progress, he always said no. I knew he was scared and blamed himself.

He said we would officially check on the first of the new year. I hadn't been able to wait so long.

Last Friday I had felt it. My orgasm had been more earth shattering that it ever had. I'd felt like we were one and connected in our souls. I knew that had done it. I knew I was pregnant.

I had taken three tests and they'd all come back positive. I'd sobbed for joy. I'd gone to the doctor's to make absolutely sure. It seemed everyone agreed. I was pregnant.

I hoped Timothée wouldnt be upset with me for checking earlier than we agreed. I hoped he wouldn't be because I was excited beyond belief. I couldn't wait to show him the positive tests.

"Why don't we hope for luck on this Yule day and make love to see if it sticks," he crooned.

"Oh of course," I said. I began to slowly take off my short to show off my Christmas themed lingerie, but then I pretended | noticed something.

"Oh, Timmy, I think there's something left in your stocking," I said casually. A grin unfurled on his face. He winked at me.

"Cheeky," he chuckled. He clearly thought | had a sexy surprise.

My palms were slick. My legs felt like they might give way. I didn't know what he'd say or do. I was worried about shouting and blame even though Timothée was nothing like that.

"What- what is this?" He asked. His large hand shook as he held up the positive test.

"What does it look like?" I asked with a shaky smile.

"But, but, it's positive," he said slowly.

"Yes it is," | nodded.

"And it's yours? This is your test?" He clarified.

"Yes it is," I said, holding myself.

He dove into the stocking again. The multiple positive tests fell out. He breathed heavily as he held them and stared and stared.

"Is this a dream?" He asked with big watery eyes.

"No, it's not. I even went to the doctor and got checked out. I'm sorry I didn't tell you but-" He had marched across the room and kissed me forcefully on the mouth. His hands roamed all over me. He was sobbing gratefully into my mouth. I swallowed his noises of joy. I was electrified by overwhelming happiness.

"My beautiful girl, you are giving us a baby," he said.

"Yes I am, I will, I can't wait," I rambled.

"Get on the floor," he demanded. "And clothes off!"

I was glad that although I was pregnant, his dominate streak was still here. I tore off my pajama pants and I was just in my red and white lingerie. I laid out, on display for him.

"Oh no, I'm not on top, not while your beautiful body is growing my child," he growled. His clothing had been torn off as well, and his cock was throbbing and hard.

In seconds he was on the floor and he had me. He was ripping off my thong. He shoved the fabric against his nose.

"You smell even better pregnant," he moaned. He lowered me onto his dick and then he was thrusting upward harshly.

"I want that beautiful stomach all round with my cum," he groaned. "Such a good girl getting pregnant. You took my cock so well, so many times."

"I did, I did!" | whined as I met his thrust. He felt so good stretching me out. He was bouncing me up and down.

"I knew you could do it baby, I fucking believed in you so much," he promised.

"You did it too," I managed to get out over the pleasure. "All that, fuck, cum!"

"Yeah y/n you took it so well and I filled you because you're a perfect girl who deserves to be filled to bursting with cum," he was growling almost possessively. I knew his dominance and possession would get even more intense now. I couldn't wait.

"I will be, I'll be bursting," I agreed as I placed my hands on my stomach.

"That's right! Who put a baby in you?" He asked.

"Y-you did," I gasped.

"Say my name," he demanded.

"Timothée put A baby inside me," | nodded my head.

"That's my girl," he grunted. I could feel him throbbing and twitching inside me. He was gripping me. One hand came and held my stomach.

"Gotta put as much cum inside your tight pussy as possible," he said as his hips snapped.

"M'already pregnant," | moaned, completely cock drunk.

"Gotta make sure. I need to breed that womb over and over to make sure you stay pregnant with my baby," he swore.

"I'm gonna come," | cried as I my walls clenched him. I let out a wail as I came undone. I saw stars as my body convulsed and twitched.

"Gonna cum, gonna cum inside you," he moaned. He pulled me down so I was flush with him. He was spilling ropes inside of me. He was crying out too, so pleasured and overwhelmed. His load had never been so large.

"Don't get off. Stay on my dick," he pleaded as we came down. We were both still throbbing. I nodded and laid down on his chest. He pulled a blanket over us. Every so often he'd thrust up a little bit to make sure he could still feel his cum inside me. He would sigh in satisfaction when he did.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming

[sjelaine]

"Louisrock" July 7, 2024

I had a friend who lives in Turku where Ruisrock is held, so as soon as I saw that Louis would play it (back in November,) I contacted my friend to see if she would be home - she said yes!  I bought an early bird ticket to the festival and had my lodging all set, so then I just needed an airplane ticket from California to Helsinki and a rental car.  I then found out another friend (from the same fandom as my Turku friend) was going to Ruisrock as well, to see Käärijä, who as it happens was playing on the same stage as Louis but 2 hours ahead of him, so I had a friend to go to the concert with me!  Normally I have to see Louis by my lonesome because none of my friends are in the 1D fandom, but it's okay because Louies are the nicest friendliest people out there and I am never short of new friends to scream all the words to Louis' songs with at the concerts.  IMO this is the very best thing about being a Louie -- all the other Louies!

We got to the festival site two hours before doors opened so we would be sure to be toward the front.  All the festival signs were in Finnish and my friend is Swedish and I'm American, so we had to rely on the locals to translate for us.  I'm old and slow so I wasn't able to run when the time came, but by the time I got through the gates and located the line for Louis' show, I was only about 50 people back.  The festival was INCREDIBLY well organized, clearing out each stage area after each performance so the people who had lined up for a specific artist could have a good chance of getting a good spot.  And thanks so their expertise in handling crowds, I was able to maintain my position in line without having to run and thus got a spot at barricade!  Thank you Ruisrock organizers and security *thumbs up*

I will mention that while waiting in line for 6 hours we were comfortable and there was a breeze and no rain.  We also got to listen to Blind Channel and Käärijä's shows which were pretty hard-hitting and all in Finnish - the best part about that was all the Finns surrounding us joining in to yell the lyrics and pogo along to their favorite songs.  The energy was amazing and I'm sure the other foreigners in line with me were appreciating the Finnish love of live music as I was.  Don't forget we also got the Oli walk-by which was funny because he acted as though he was just passing us to get to the food stalls, but then he came back a few minutes later with no food and acting just as nonchalantly, so clearly he was there to check us out and report back.  You go, Oli!  Be sure to tell Louis what in idiot he is if he thinks we're not going to show up.  Faith in the Fans, maybe?

Back to barricade: I had a spot right next to the staircase Louis would use to come off stage for Silver Tongues, and I took quite a few videos and photos although most of the songs are partial recordings and the pictures are basic iphone quality, but here's a link to all of my files in a Google folder.  Please enjoy!  Do with these as you wish :-)

Some observations I made while enjoying my 7th Louis show was that Joshua would run to a certain side of the stage, Louis would catch sight of him, and then he would head to that side of the stage... so it was almost like Joshua was calling the shots of where Louis should "pose."  It also clued me in to start recording whenever Joshua came to our side because I knew Louis would follow - I got some great shots of Louis looking our way which I choose to believe were him looking at ME ;-)  I also noticed that Steve would put a drumstick in his mouth to adjust something on his set mid-song, which I hadn't noticed before.  And of course Michael and Matt were always heading to the center stage to join Steve in "getting down" which was fun to see.  It would be great to see Louis playing the guitar and jamming with them, but then it would be harder for him to interact with the fans...

One of my favorite live show elements is the Baba O'Reilly mash up in WDBHG so I was very happy that Louis walked over and pointed my way when he sang it - so excited in fact, that my video suffered accordingly, but oh well.  I didn't get lucky with him coming to our side of the barricade but hopefully at some show in the future I will.  Faith in the Future!

Thank you for coming to my TED talk.  Love you guys -

[12-seconds-to-live]

How do we say goodbye?

pairing - f1drivers/2022

summary - this is pt2 of “How do I say goodbye?” 

warnings -  mentions of death, explicit language, description of a crash.

word count: 1.255

“I wonder if I was in a coma, who would visit me in the hospital?”

For the drivers, hearing that letter was something, to imagine a member of their family thinking about their goodbye was not very common. Inexplicable and sad.

Everyone was in the hospital waiting to enter your room and see you, to dedicate words that without knowing if they would do any good, help you heal, wake up, laugh with them at the jokes, comfort them when they thought they would lose you or at least say goodbye.

How to say goodbye?

"Good morning, are you all related to Miss Brooks? - a chorused yes was heard in the waiting room. "Well, please, the first person may enter, take as much time as you need."

Between them they all exchanged glances, they had never heard a doctor say such a thing, considering 19 people in the waiting room. Lando and Alex sat with tears about to come out of their eyes. Daniel turned his gaze to the door of your room and walked in. For Daniel, being the soul of the group by always having a smile on his face is an incredible quality but seeing you on that gurney with lots of wires, a breathing mask and no trace of your cheerful look and contagious smile broke his heart. What could he say? It's like losing your little sister. He pulled a chair closer to you and took your hand, cold and without a trace of warmth.

  "I'm afraid, afraid of losing you, much more afraid of leaving Formula 1. You always know what to say and how to make us laugh. You're not afraid of what people will say about you. We are not best friends like you are with Alex but I don't know what my life would be...our life without you" Daniel felt the tears falling and uncontrollably "I'm sorry but..... Please fight and recover, I will wait for you to show you Perth as you have always wanted, accompany you in your next podiums and live life" With a last look, Daniel gets up from the chair and before leaving he says what he thinks is right in case you don't come back "Don't say goodbye again, please, I love you and I am not good at goodbyes and even more when I know you are coming back".

Alex is the next to enter the room next to George. Your teammate is not feeling well but is still very sure what to say to you "Lily says hi, she's sorry she can't be here and that she's waiting for you to play golf together, clearly you're her favorite student" He looks up and George encourages him to continue "I hate this. You have been an amazing teammate, you care about everyone on the team and you have accomplished so much more than I have this season, no, that has never bothered me because I am happy for your accomplishments as you are for mine and please wake up. You are our family, we are heartbroken and we don't know what to do after seeing how you were taken out of the car. No one will replace your place Alice, I...I want you to know that you are our favorite person". George, who has tears forming in his eyes says "We will wait for you and we don't accept that you will give up".

Lando enters the room and the image of everyone around your helmet, remembering your short F1 career makes him sigh sadly "I never thought you were so sentimental. Although it's not your fault, I'm really sorry that the FIA is so stupid and they don't see what their actions cause" The British man runs his hands over his face trying to think what he can say that won't make him cry a lot more. "I don't want to say goodbye to you, you are my other sister, my best friend and...and it's not right for me to tell you but Zak made an offer for you to be with me next season and I've been wanting to tell you for weeks because I admire you and I want you with me or without me to achieve your dreams and be the best female driver ever" Another sigh. "I promise if you wake up I will stop pulling your hair so you hear me before everyone else, stop calling you in the middle of the night for nonsense and only post pictures of you on networks that you like. I miss you, we all do and we want to see you competing."

Carlos seeing you in such a way on the stretcher closes his eyes and sighs. Since you met you have considered him a big brother and he is one of the people who suffers the most from your jokes "I never expected to see you like this, pequeña. I called your parents yesterday and cried with them. Apart from Isa, I think you're the only girl my parents know and well...I don't want the last image I see of you to be here" The Spaniard sits back and watches your slow way of breathing. "The Canadian GP was postponed. Your accident has caused noise and no one has the head to get in the car and race with an empty seat. You will be back and stronger than ever, we have no doubt about that. The rest of the world has yet to see what Alice is capable of."

Charles and Pierre are the only ones who are dedicated to keeping you company, words are superfluous and the sentiment is the same, they want you to come back and be the soul of the grid again.

Yuki leaves next to your bed a Koala doll, one of your favorite animals and hopes that when you see it, a smile will appear on your face. He's not very good with words, but the Japanese guy has always enjoyed your company and your efforts to get a smile out of him and give him ideas on how to ruin the intro of the AlphaTauri podcast. He takes your hand and says the only sensible thing and that if perhaps you listen to him, know that it comes from his heart "We love you and we need you. Without you we are not the same and I don't want that feeling to be the constant reminder of you."

Checo and Max enter the room together. Checo prays in Spanish while Max gives you one of his serious looks. Without expressing it, he feels fear, dread, anger that you will give up and not come back. Not having a partner to practice with on the simulator or running in the mornings or practicing phrases to annoy the press. With a simple "please" he takes your hand and follows his partner out of the room.

Lewis and Sebastian are dedicated to reminding you of the times they gave you the lessons to get you started successfully in F1, clearly you heard them those times. They hope to see you reach the championship, to be a star and the inspiration for the next generation. They hope they are right.

The rest of the grid visits you and gives you words of encouragement to heal and return to your team and family. They are not certain what is coming for you, but their minds don't want to think about a memorial or a funeral. Traces of past memories of people who have meant so much in their lives make their presence known and for you to enter into those memories would be the worst of this season...of this life.

June 27, 2022 at 02:37 marked the date when you moved your left hand and opened your eyes, alone in a hospital room, ready to move on with your life, ready to hug your friends and tell them you heard them and thank them, ready to put on your helmet and get in your car and make history.

Ready to run off to a new adventure

‘cause you’re not ready to say goodbye.