#Anyway. Glad that stress is gone now

[shima-draws]

Me: Oh god. It's time for our company's yearly performance review. Where my boss will judge my performance over the past year and see how awful I am at my job and--

My boss: You're doing such a great job and I'm so happy you're here <3

Me:

[oflgtfol]

it is really unfortunate the way suicidality is talked about nowadays because it’s either all a joke so it’s hard to discuss in a serious capacity or it’s so upsettingly serious that you can’t even discuss it without fear of like being institutionalized

[birdantlers]

A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.

(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)

it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it

...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..

Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.

I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.

(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")

“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.

“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”

The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.

I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?

I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.

Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.

Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.

So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.

Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!

Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol

What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.

I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.

Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.

Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.

How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’

i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.

I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.

I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”

….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.

No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.

If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.

His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.

We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.

Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.

You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.

The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.

And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.

You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.

Give a heads up.

Something.

But don’t. kill. the media.

The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.

Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.

I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.

It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.

Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.

If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.

And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.

Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.

the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.

The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.

Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.

Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.

If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.

•

Muting notifs

[thelov3lybookworm]

Don't Tease Me

Summary: She never closes her side of the bond. Then why now?

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 722

Warnings: a tinyyy tiny bit of angst, like TINYYYY. like its just rhysie being a scared lil munchkin. fluffy at the end, and also its smol.

A/n: based on this request by my most fav anon ever cus like YOURE AMAZING YOU KNOW THAT??? THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK POOKIE ILY SJHASFJHDFJDHA

but no seriously, this was so sweet to receive and im glad you chose me to write this. im sorry this is a bit small, but i hope you like it nonetheless 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

anyways, enjoyyy🥹🤭

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Closing off the bond while in a meeting was almost a routine for Rhysand, one he had discussed at length with his mate before.

He knew that there was a chance he’d get mad at these meetings, especially if these meetings were in hewn city and did not want her to worry. She was a sweetheart and would worry about every little thing. Rhysand did not want her to stress herself.

But they had never, not once, talked about her closing her side of the bond.

Since the two had accepted the bond and felt the other’s soul on the other end of that sacred thread, Y/n had refused to close off the bond, telling him it made her feel happy knowing he was hers and it was fated by higher powers. That they had ended together, that they were happy.

So when Rhysand walked out of the meeting room in hewn city- desperately controlling the urge to sneer at Keir’s back like a petulant child- and opened his side of the bond again, the lack of warmth from his mate’s side was enough to cool off all the blood in his body.

"Cassian, Y/n has closed the bond. I can’t feel her." Rhysand turned to Cassian, his throat closing up.

Cassian only raised a brow. "So?"

Rhysand’s mouth dropped open. "What do you mean so? She never does that!"

Cassian only clapped him on the shoulder. "It’s nothing, I’m sure of it. By the way, do you think I could take a female home? Last time I’d seen one who was very hot-"

But Rhysand was already travelling through the wards and out into the open skies, wondering how Cassian thought the well being of Rhysand’s mate was less important than which females to bed at hewn city.

Rhysand could have sworn he’d never flown so quickly before, winnowing as much as he could and flying in between.

He was so sure he was going to lose his mind.

He arrived at the town house, but after at least calling for his mate five times and a quick, thorough search of the house, he realised that she was not there.

Maybe the house of wind?

But Ann could not fly, only being a quarter illyrian. And she was not going to take the stairs. She would always tell Rhys it was too dramatic, the amount of stairs.

What if someone took her? Faebane? No no no.

The thought only made him travel faster, and soon he was landing on the front porch of the small, quaint house his mate had insisted on buying near the woods.

She better be here, or I’m going to tear apart Prythian searching for her.

He pushed open the door with more force than necessary, making even himself jump. But the sight of Y/n starting as she whipped around to look at Rhysand with wide, disbelieving eyes made him forget everything.

All he could think of was how much he adored this female.

"Rhys? What is going on?" The sweet notes of his mate’s voice reached out to Rhysand’s ears, wrapping around him like the gentle caress of spring as she drew closer.

Rhysand shook his head, unable to form words as he stared at her, swallowing.

Her brows furrowed when he didn’t answer. "Rhys? Is something wrong?"

Rhys swallowed again, dragging a hand down his face before reaching out to grab her arms. He pulled her in closer, his eyes boring into hers. "Why is your side of the bond closed, darling?"

Y/n sighed. "I was baking, but I accidentally burned the cookies. I didn’t want you to feel my frustration." She searched his eyes. "Did something happen?"

Rhys sighed, thinking about how he’d gone into a frenzy. "No, I was just worried about you."

Y/n smiled. "Aww, I’m touched!"

Rhys grinned, feeling his heart settle back into position from where it had climbed up his throat. Y/n settled against his chest, and he sighed, finally feeling calm again as he leaned down and nipped at her ear. "Stop teasing me."

Y/n squealed, trying to back off. But Rhysand did not let her, wrapping his arms tightly around her thighs and throwing her over his shoulders.

"I wasn’t teasing!" She yelled as she squirmed.

"Sure you weren’t, sweetheart."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

permanent taglist: @berryzxx @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

Permanent acotar Taglist: @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

@mellowmusings @dnfhascorruptedme @fuckingsimp4azriel

Rhysand Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @okaytrashpanda

[cyripticchronicler]

Hiii I have a request for Matt Murdock I was thinking him with an reader who’s job has gotten more stressful and it starts to get to them they get dizzy and lightheaded but brush it off until it happens around Matt and he can sense that it happened and he gets all protective and caring

Preferably fem reader but gn is also totally fine so everyone can enjoy it !

If this isn’t your cup of tea I totally get that !

In His Arms

Thank you for requesting, sweetie. I kind of went off track a little and I'm sorry :( (If you want me to rewrite it I happily will!) But either way, I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by your growing workload and the pressure to prove yourself, you keep your struggles hidden—even from Matt. When the stress leads to a breakdown, he pulls you back, reminding you that love means sharing the load.

TW: Panic attack, mentions of anxiety, pet names (I can't help it), swearing

Masterlist

Stress was a familiar feeling to you. Its sharp claws seemed always to be gripping onto you tightly. You’ve learnt how to manage the lack of air in your lungs and the painful squeezing of your heart whenever you go through a rough patch. 

That’s why the feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine was carelessly ignored. You regret that you shrugged the feeling away, too focused on your work. It’s much easier to calm your bones' nervous trembles before it worsens. 

But now it’s too late. 

You’ve been so distracted by your work. Your colleague had just gone on maternity leave after giving birth to twins. You weren’t sure what would happen to her workload, but you certainly didn’t think it would all be passed down to you. 

Now all your brain can seem to focus on is the deadlines coming closer by the minute. They flash in your mind each time you consider taking a break. You never take a break - this is your one chance to prove to your boss that you’re ready to take on more responsibility. The rumours floating around the office of potential promotions, motivating your hard work ethic. 

You’ve always been a hard worker; had always been distracted by what you consider important rather than what was essential- like eating, or sleeping. Each time you got away with it. You didn’t have anyone to look after you. 

Until Matt came along. 

He’s such an attentive man and would be even without his heightened senses. You knew he’d be worried about your desperation to complete your work, completely gone to the rest of the world as your stomach grumbled louder and your under eyes got darker. 

He’s a natural worrier. That’s what compelled you to keep your stress a secret. It’s hard lying to a human lie detector,  so you’ve taken to avoiding instead. It’s easy to avoid him when you’re so busy, anyway. A couple of messages per day seems to keep him subdued for now and you’re glad; it’s all the attention you could offer.

Your lip is pulled between your teeth, chewing hard enough to draw the taste of metallic blood. None of the words before you make sense through your blurry eyesight. As you attempt to read the same sentence for the third time, you angrily rip off your glasses and groan. 

Black spots take over your vision as you rub at your eyes aggressively, hoping the sickeningly dizzy feeling that’s making your throat feel tight will go away. It’s useless, yet you only allow yourself a second break before gulping down some water and returning to work. 

Your phone rings as soon as your fingertips touch the keys of your laptop and a curse slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. You hate yourself for the spark of annoyance that has your blood boiling when you read Matt’s name on your phone. 

He’d already left three messages from before. As well as a voice message that you hadn’t yet listened to; you were practically forced to answer the phone so as not to draw concern. You’re determined not to burden him with your issues - he’s a vigilante for God’s sake, he doesn’t need your petty problems on top of his own. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” His deep voice crackles through your phone speaker. Instantly, your shoulders relax and your eyes flutter shut. He’s the bright sun during cold days, the flowers during winter; beautiful and everything you long to see.

“Hey, Matt.” You respond lazily, mustering up enough energy to open your eyes and read the words on your laptop screen. You use one hand to type while the other holds your phone to your ear. You can hear his smile in his voice. “I’ve barely talked to you all day. I thought you were coming to mine for dinner. Did you get my voicemail?”

Guilt nags at your stomach. “I’m so sorry, Matt,” the little sigh you can hear through the other line has your heart splintering, “I’ve just been so busy with staying on top of my work as well as Mara’s-”

“It’s okay. I know how busy you’ve been. I could come by with dinner. I can do some work while you do yours.” You hate to diminish the hope in his voice, but you know he'd be worried about your obvious stress as it shines through in your old clothing and unbrushed hair (not that he’d be able to see but feel). 

��Can we do a raincheck?” You whisper, guilt nagging at your stomach. His voice is so sweet. So understanding. It makes you want to cry. “Of course, baby. Try to eat, please. And take breaks. I’ll call you tomorrow; maybe we can go out for lunch.”

“Maybe,” If I’ve got enough work done, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You drop your phone on your lap as soon as the call ends. For once, you’re thankful for the large amounts of work, as it distracts you from the guilt that claws and tugs at your skin. 

⚝⚝⚝

The second time Matt calls, you’re nose-deep in paperwork that was slammed down on your desk. ‘More of Mara’s work,’ your boss said before leaving you with the rasing anxiety in your chest. Thoughts of taking your lunch break didn’t even assimilate in the blurry haze of your mind. 

Only the shrill ring of your phone brought you out of your bubble of work. Sighing, you don’t bother to check the name before picking it up, as you already know who it is. “Hey, Matt.” Your hand still scribbles words on the paper, phone pressed awkwardly against your ear by your shoulder.

“Hey. I called to see if you wanted lunch, but you sound busy.” Unlike last time, his voice doesn’t soothe your racing heart. If anything he makes it worse. “I’m so sorry,” you hope he can hear the sincerity in your voice, “I miss you. As soon as the crazy amount of work has subsided, I’ll call you.”

“Is there any way I can help?” You can’t help but smile at his caring nature, wanting nothing more than to be with him. But you know if you went to lunch you’d be too focused on work to be good company. “Remember that I love you?”

His laugh makes your heart melt, anxiety melting away with it. “Of course. As long as you remember that I love you. I won’t call so I don’t distract you from your work, but please take care of yourself. I love you so much, honey.”

“I love you too.” You hang up the phone and instead of returning to work immediately, you just sit there in silence, staring at the piles of paperwork in front of you. The sting of unshed tears joined by a nervous feeling in your stomach is enough to make you want to throw up. You’re so tired. 

You should have listened to your body. You should have gone out for lunch and taken a break. But instead, you got back to work, ignoring the bright red signs of a panic attack on the rise. 

⚝⚝⚝

Having been diagnosed with anxiety when you were younger, you’ve learned to identify signs of an upcoming panic attack. First, you begin to feel dizzy, then a little lightheaded. Your heart begins to hurt, and your stomach starts to turn. Then you can’t breathe, and you’re scratching at your skin to give your lungs more space to breathe. 

Now, as you stand in your kitchen, staring at the piles of paperwork that cover the dining room table, it’s hard to ignore how your body reacts to the sight of the never-ending workload; the feelings you so carelessly ignored before forced to be brought to attention. 

Your eyesight is unfocused, and you are unable to concentrate on the hand you’re using to prepare a small dinner. Your hands violently shake by your side and feel incredibly weak. But that isn’t what worries you; it’s the lack of air entering your lungs that has your eyes squeezed shut. 

Feelings of worthlessness travel up your throat and block your airways. You’re having a panic attack. The realization has you sliding down the fridge and to the floor, tears running freely down your flushed cheeks. You bring your knees to your chest, hands scratching at your throat as if it would allow air into your beaten lungs. 

Your body feels so weak, you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you tried. You��re lost to the darkness and anguish the past weeks have wrought upon you; lost to the cruel insecurities your mind created to fool you into this vicious despair. 

No matter how hard you cry, how hard you claw and scrape at your skin, you still can’t breathe. Hopelessness washes over your chilled skin, pulling you into its shadows. You can do nothing but let it take you as its own, the fight for air warring off as you succumb to the darkness that spots your eyes. 

And as your eyes flutter shut, you fail to notice the opening of the window in the living room. You fail to notice the hurried steps and the gloved hands that hold your face gently. Or the man’s desperate calls of your name. 

⚝⚝⚝

The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the exhaustion that wracks through your frail body. The second thing is the man who lays next to you on your bed. 

Matt. 

He’s sleeping peacefully, chest moving up and down in slow breaths. You frown, unsure of why he’s here. The last thing you remember was you freaking out about the workload and having a panic attack. You must have fainted from the lack of air, you consider then immediately cringe. How embarrassing. 

“What are you thinking about?” You jump at the sound of Matt’s deep voice, eyes shooting up to watch a small smile grace his face at your reaction. “Why are you here?” The question comes out ruder than you intended, but Matt’s smile doesn't waver. 

“I was on patrol,” he begins, pulling you into his warm embrace, “and figured I’d stop by to check on you. I wasn’t going to come in, just listen-”

“-that’s not creepy at all-”

“-then I heard you panicking. Your heart was beating really fast and you were breathing really heavily. You were already passed out from lack of air by the time I was inside.” He pulls you in tighter like the moment still haunts him. You trace your fingertips gently down his bare arm, ear against his chest as you listen to his heartbeat. 

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asks when it became clear you weren’t going to speak. You sigh. “I’ve been a little stressed lately. And I should’ve listened to my body but I didn’t. There’s just so much work and such little time. I can’t handle all of this workload.” The familiar bite of tears has you shoving your head in Matt’s neck, letting him hold you tightly and reassure you that everything will be okay. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked through your stress together,” He questions quietly and you shake your head in response. “You take the burden of everyone else’s problems, and still go out every night to face all the bad guys- I just didn’t want to burden you with my problems on top of all the rest.”

He pulls away and you try not to frown at the lack of contact. Slowly, his fingers move under your chin and compel you to look into his beautiful, unfocused eyes that sparkle in the city lights shining through your windows. “You are not a burden. Your problems are not a burden. I want to be here for you. I want you to tell me what’s going on in that smart little head of yours-” He flicks your forehead playfully before giving it a small kiss “-And I want you to know you can talk to me.”

You nod your head slowly, feeling like a child that’s just been scolded. “Okay.” He lays there in silence for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words before he speaks, “I think you need to talk to your boss,” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off with a gentle squeeze, “This amount of work isn’t healthy. I mean, why hasn’t the workload been separated and passed around to all of your co-workers? It’s fucking stupid if you ask me. She’s obviously taking advantage of your brilliance-”

“-Matt,” You cut him off with an amused smile. His eyes glint at the sound of your giggles as if that was his mission all along and he won first place. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me. If anything I’m being selfish.” He grins cheekily, kissing your palm as it raises to cup his cheek. “And why, pray tell, are you being selfish?” Your smile is sly and knowing. 

“Because I’m doing this to get my beautiful girl back and into my arms. Foggy isn’t as good company as you, y’know.” You giggle, holding him tightly as your mind settles on a decision. “I’ve missed you too.”

Tomorrow you’ll call your boss and ask for a lessened workload. But for now, you’re just going to lay in bed with the man you love dearly and let him hold you tightly. 

[lovebugism]

hi hi hi!!! congratulations on one year!! you've accomplished so much and i'm so very happy for you! you deserve all the love and more 🫶🏻💞

as always, i have to leave a little dad!steve request, because who would i be if i didn't? lol. anyway, since you are celebrating your one year, i was hoping maybe we could get something like dad!steve and mom!reader celebrating their one year as parents, aka giving their lil girl her first birthday party? i can just imagine aunt robbie and uncle eddie spoiling steve's baby girl almost as much as he does 🥹

congrats again, bug! love you so so much 🫶🏻

- @honeysuckleharringtons 🍯💛

ty angel!! and ty for keeping dad!steve alive on this blog hahah — you and steve struggle to cope when your baby turns one year old (mom!reader, fluff, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Steve rises that morning before you do. He couldn’t say he woke up, really, ‘cause he didn’t sleep at all. Maybe an hour or more, but that’s being generous. Between decorating the house after you put the baby down (his soon-to-be one-year-old, that is) and stressing all night about tomorrow, tomorrow finally came. Tomorrow is now, and his baby’s a whole year older.

He worried and worried and worried, and the time passed anyway.

You rouse with a cat-like stretch. You look at the clock first, 7:26 a.m., and then over at the boy beside you. He’s already looking at you, the creep. His features are gently swollen from the weight of his middling slumber — pretty pink smile soft and slightly crooked. 

The attention makes you cower as your eyes squeeze shut again. No one should be looked at so fondly so early in the morning.

“Do you know what day it is?” Steve croons to you. 

He props his wild head on his fist and smooths a free hand up your stomach, bare from where your shirt had risen. Your skin is as warm and as soft as it ever was, and his chest stings because Nellie used to be in there. He agonized nine months over for her arrival, and now she’s here — in the bedroom down the hall — and one year old already.

You scoff a faint laugh, weighed down with exhaustion. Of course, you know what day it is, but you humor him anyway. “No, Steve. What day is it?”

“We’ve been parents for a whole entire year,” he whispers, voice faraway with disbelief. 

“Oh. How could I forget?” you joke, giggling into the kiss he gives you.

He pulls away with a gentle smack and smiles softly down at you. “Remember when we thought we wouldn’t make it?”

“That first night,” you answer with a sigh, heavy eyes fluttering shut again. “After we brought her home, and she just… wouldn’t stop crying…”

“Yeah, I know the one…” Steve hasn’t been able to forget it, really. He doesn’t think he ever will, or if he even wants to. It was the first day out of the hospital and the very first time he felt like a parent, when it was just him and you and a colicky baby. It felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

The stress of the long-gone moment still stings.

“I thought the world was gonna end,” you confess.

Steve’s wide hand gives your bare side a reassuring squeeze. “And look at you now. A total pro.”

“Hush.”

“You are.”

“Only ‘cause I’m copying you,” you argue, equal parts sincere and deflecting. Your wild head tilts against the pillow, and you bring a heavy hand to his jaw. Your palm settles along his stubble with a playful roughness. “I’m glad I shacked up with the best dad ever and not some other schmuck.”

Steve’s grin widens until his honey eyes crinkle at the edges.

“I’m blushin’, baby,” he teases lowly, then leans down to kiss you again. 

It’s a mixture of subtle morning breath and the coffee he’d had an hour or more ago. It’s a chaste peck first, to gain your footing in the early morning, and then a more intentional second one. Then he kisses you a third time, a much more languid thing. His exhaled sigh brushes your cupid’s bow when he melts into you.

You pull back from him (as much as it hurts you) before he can give you a fourth.

“We need to start getting ready,” you tell him. “People will be here soon.”

His features scrunch together, just like Nellie’s does right before she cries. Steve buries his face into your shoulder with a whine that rivals your baby’s. “No— I don’t want people to be here soon.”

Your laugh matches the sunrise. “You planned the party, Steve.”

“Yeah, but when people come over, it means the party’s started,” he rambles, muffled into your neck. “And when the party’s started, it means Nellie’s officially a year old.”

Your hands smooth up and down the length of his pale, freckled back. “Well, technically, she won’t be a year old until later tonight, so… You’ve still got a couple hours with a baby.”

He sniffles, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“Steve, I’m just kidding,” you coo with a soft giggle. “She’s still a baby! She’s always gonna be our baby.”

“Yeah, except now she’s a baby that can walk,” he whines. “And eventually, she’ll be a baby that can talk— and then she’ll be in college, and then she’ll be married—”

“Well, at this rate, you should probably start preparing for her to move out,” you joke drily. He sniffles again. You cave. “Sorry…”’

—————

You languish in the grass a couple hours later, over an old quilt Steve pulled from the top of your closet. 

Energy seems to seep from your pores, ebbing with the setting sun. You’ve spent the better part of your day running after Nellie and tending to guests. Now, all you really want is some peace and quiet, a shower, and a good cry.

Steve sits just beside you, leaning back on his arms while you lay on your stomach. Both of you keep a vigilant eye on your baby girl — watching while she gets all the attention she deserves and smiling to yourselves because she’s the most loved baby in the universe.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Steve asks after a few minutes of silence. Well, not silence, exactly. The radio’s playing distantly, and the chatter hasn’t stopped since Dustin arrived (first, of course, and a whole hour early).

“It’s stressing me out that there’s food on a blanket,” you murmur in response, chin bobbing against your folded arms.

Steve laughs through the chips in his mouth. “Well, that’s the point of a picnic, baby.”

“I know,” you sigh and get distracted again. “I can’t believe how popular our baby is.”

“Well, I mean, she is our daughter, so… It kinda checks out.”

“Shut up.”

“Look at Eddie— What an idiot.” Steve chuckles as he watches the wild-haired boy drive around the backyard in a bright pink Barbie Jeep. It was a present for Nellie, of course, but she can hardly walk, let alone drive the damn thing. 

Eddie cruises around in it for her, lanky limbs barely fitting inside. It whirs as he drives it back and forth over the patio.

Nellie’s having more fun watching him than she would be driving it herself, you think. She squeals with delight in Joyce’s arms, smiling a big, toothless smile and clapping (as best she can with chubby baby hands) every time Eddie reappears from behind her.

“How’s our baby so pretty?” you wonder quietly to yourself. “Like, how did we do that?”

Steve ponders the question with a deep huff. He turns to lie next to you on his back, then grimaces when the ground does little to cushion his aching spine. A harsh reminder that he’s not sixteen anymore.

“Well… Her mom is the most beautiful woman on the planet, and her dad’s pretty alright, so… One plus one equals two, I guess.”

You squint. “Don’t flirt with me, Harrington.”

“Can’t help it,” he shrugs with a boyish, lopsided grin. “You’re too pretty. I have to love on you, or I’ll die.”

You start to make a joke then — about how Little Eleanor definitely got all her dramatics from her father. But then Steve leans in to kiss you, and you lose it. You can taste the birthday cake and Coca-Cola on his breath as he nears you. You forget how to form words in your mouth.

“Wait,” you murmur, pulling back before he can kiss you. You raise a hand to swipe away the crumbs sticking to the corner of his mouth. “Okay. Now you can kiss me.”

You never need to tell him twice. His lips meet the very corner of yours until he can realign himself for a more direct, proper peck to your mouth.

“Hey, hey, hey!” you hear Hopper scold from ahead of you. 

The two of you pull away from each other with a soft smack and find the man walking towards you. He’s got crumbs in his mustache and a cheekful of the hotdog he holds in his hand. He’s got his work boots on, too, paired with a pink and green tropical button-up. The coolest shirt he owns, you figure, especially for Nellie.

His sharp features are screwed with disgust. “This is a kid’s party. Keep your hands to yourselves.”

You laugh because the only real kid here is Nellie. And she’s far too obsessed with Eddie to care about anything else.

“Sorry, Hop,” Steve mumbles even though he doesn’t really mean it. He’s just not in the business of smart-mouthing the chief.

You are, though. And it’s one of the million reasons why he loves you so damn much.

You peer up at Hopper, squinting one eye to shield your gaze from the golden sun. “You know we have a baby together, right?” you wonder in a monotone.

He takes another too big bit of the hotdog and shrugs. “Well, yeah. She’s, like, the best thing ever— Obviously, I know that.”

“So then you also know that we kinda made her by not keeping our hands to ourselves.”

Steve chokes back a laugh when Hopper gets so suddenly stern. His features harden as he points a firm finger your way. “Don’t,” he murmurs in a feeble warning, then decides to leave well enough alone. He walks back towards the bustling party, beelining for Joyce and Nellie because he’s in desperate need of a purer cleanse.

“Holy shit…” Steve sighs when his laughter dies down.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he hums to himself, a soft smile on his lips. “I just love you.”

Your nose scrunches. “Ew.”

“Like, I get to be in love with you forever. How cool is that?”

His boyish musing makes your chest sparkle. “I’m glad you’re coping well,” you tease with a sigh as you lean over to lay on him. Your head rests against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat there, slow and firm. You exhale again, with content this time. “‘Cause you’re stuck with me, Harrington. For life.”

You feel a chuckle rumble in his chest. “You make it sound like it’s prison.”

“It’s not?” you joke.

“No, baby. It’s heaven. It’s better than heaven,” he tells you, then gets immediately distracted. “Wait— Like that song— Ooh, baby do you know what that’s worth—”

“Steve!” you giggle at his offkey crooning. 

“—We’ll make heaven a place on earth!”

[cybrsan]

Party of Three | C.S, J.WY

AO3 Link | Masterlist

Summary: Things take an unexpected turn when Wooyoung walks in on you and San.

Pairing: Choi San x F!Reader x Jung Wooyoung

Genre: Hidden feelings, threesome, smut

Word Count: 5.3k

Warning(s): Alcohol & drug use, sex under the influence 

A/N: This fic is the most well-liked among readers on my AO3. The writing may not be up to my current standard as I first posted this in 2019, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! 

Everyone is already stoned by the time you show up at San and Seonghwa's apartment. The former is the one to open the door, greeting you with red eyes and a lazy smile.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greets. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Before you can respond, you're slammed with the familiar smell of weed that wafts out into the hallway after him. Greedy to get started, you give your boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek and push past him into the kitchen, avoiding his grabby hands with skilled ease.

You throw your bag down onto the counter and then make a beeline for the fridge, desperate for some sort of alcohol after the stressful week of final exams you've just gone through. Grabbing a beer, you sit on one of the kitchen stools and give the room a once over.

Jongho, Yeosang, and Yunho are sat on the floor playing Mario Kart as Mingi sits behind them on the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. It seems like he's pretending to be some sort of referee based on how every once in a while he shouts random things like, "Oh, come on, Yunho! Don't you know how to drift?!" You smile at his antics—you've missed this.

Meanwhile, the other couple of the group is squished into one armchair, Hongjoong's legs draped over Seonghwa's lap. Hongjoong's eyes flutter open and closed and Seonghwa chuckles, lovingly watching his boyfriend struggle to stay awake. As always, a stoned Hongjoong is a sleepy Hongjoong.

You go to turn back to San—thinking that you've seen everyone—when a silhouette on the balcony catches your eye. You’re overtaken with surprise when you recognize it to be Wooyoung, taking a hit from San's prized glass pipe. He hadn’t come to one of these get-togethers in a while, ever since he broke up with his girlfriend. Actually, now that you think about it, he hadn’t been here that much even when they were still dating.

He spots you and he smiles, his eyes turning into crescent moons from pure happiness. After shoving the pipe into Seonghwa's waiting hands, he jogs over and plants a soft kiss on your cheek. You laugh and give him a hug, ecstatic that he seems like the Wooyoung you used to know. He was always touchy when stoned, but he had been holding himself back because his ex didn’t like him showing affection to anyone other than her.

“Thank god that bitch is gone,” you say, squeezing him one last time before letting go. “I missed this Wooyoung, the real Wooyoung.” You pause before adding, “My best friend, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung runs a hand through his black hair, laughing. “Yeah, me too. I’m glad to be back.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Mingi shouts from his place on the couch.

Of course, Wooyoung agrees instantly. You roll your eyes; he’s a fiend when it comes to alcohol of any kind. “Hell yeah! Let’s do shots.”

Wooyoung jogs over to the liquor cabinet and grabs a bottle of vodka. You shiver involuntarily; you and Smirnoff have a dark history. As he begins to pour the gasoline into shot glasses, he shoots you a questioning look.

You shake your head. "No. Hell no. No shots for me."

Despite your greatest efforts at resisting, Wooyoung's puppy eyes and Mingi's pouting (those two are unstoppable when they team up) manages to convince you and, half an hour later, you're three shots in. Yunho tries to pass you another one and you grimace, slapping his hand away. He looks offended and cradles the shot to his chest as if it spilling would have been the greatest tragedy of the modern age.

"We don't waste alcohol in this household, Y/N," he explains.

You can't help but roll your eyes. "Right, of course. Anyway," you look to where San is, leaning on the railing of the balcony with his pipe in hand, "I'm gonna go join my boyfriend and get stoned. Alcohol tastes like shit, I can only handle so much."

You practically skip to the balcony, excited to spend some one-on-one time with your boyfriend. It's been nice hanging out with the whole group but all you want right now is to be in San's arms. So, you decide to do exactly that. You bend down slightly and crawl right in between them, letting yourself be caged between his body and the railing. He doesn't get surprised and you let out a sigh of relief, grateful that he's been smoking for a few hours already. You're positive that if he was more sober he would've flinched and the glass pipe would have fallen out of his hand and down twenty-five feet onto the concrete below.

He smiles when he sees you, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his oh-so-precious dimples making an appearance. Leaning down, he captures your lips in a kiss. Smoke fills your mouth and your eyes widen in surprise; you didn't notice him take a hit. He pulls away and you exhale, letting the smoke evaporate into the night air. You cough slightly and he smiles, pressing another kiss to your forehead.

"Sorry, angel. I couldn't help myself."

The pet name makes you clench your thighs and San notices, eyes darkening. He knows exactly what the effect is of him saying that and you know he did it on purpose.

Fighting away the blush attempting its way onto your cheeks, you take the pipe from his hand, inhaling. You let the smoke enter your lungs, relishing in the familiar burning feeling. On your exhale, you say, "It's fine, just warn me next time."

Just as you take another hit, Seonghwa peeks his head out past the balcony door. "Hey, Joong and I are tapping out for the night."

San raises an eyebrow. "You mean he's still conscious?"

Chuckling, Seonghwa responds, "Let me rephrase. Hongjoong has passed the fuck out, so I'm taking him to my room to lay him down."

"Typical Joong," you say with a laugh. "He's fun for the first hour or so, and then he just gets tired." You always get stuck looking after a hungover Hongjoong while Seonghwa goes to work and you have a feeling tomorrow morning won't be any different.

Seonghwa nods, agreeing. With a half-wave, he turns to go back inside but suddenly stops, casting you and San one last look. "Oh, also—if you guys are gonna fuck tonight, can you try to be quiet? I have work tomorrow and wanna get a few hours of sleep in so my hangover doesn’t completely decimate me."

You blush and bury your face in San's chest, embarrassed. "Hwa! Can you not?"

Normally, San would be just as embarrassed as you, but not tonight. Without batting an eye, he says, "Alright, we'll try."

You pull back from him and gently swat on his arm. "San!"

He looks at you curiously. "What?" He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you taught against him and leans down to press his forehead against yours. "You want me to lie and tell him that I'm not planning to make a mess of you ton—"

"On that note, I'll take my leave," Seonghwa interrupts, disappearing back into the apartment.

"Oh my god." You pat your cheeks, forcing your blush to die down. "I always forget how much... bolder you get when you're high."

San leans down, placing a soft kiss on your neck. The gesture sends an electric shock throughout the rest of your body, causing your hair to practically stand on end. "Don't pretend you don't love it," he whispers, the heat from his breath ghosting against your skin.

"I don't—"

He cuts you off by taking your chin in between two of his slender fingers and forcing you to look up at him. "No lying, angel."

As if on autopilot, you respond, "Okay, Sir."

The second you close your mouth, you know that you've just set something in motion. You can see the change in San happen, something inside of him switching into gear. He's always had two sides to him—your soft, romantic boyfriend and then the rougher, more possessive side of him that comes out when you call him by that name.

Placing the pipe down on a table, he grabs you by your wrist and drags you inside past all the stragglers left in the living area. Yunho wolf whistles and Mingi and Jongho laugh quietly amongst themselves. Wooyoung, on the other hand, watches the two of you with an expression you can’t quite place.

"You two have fun now," Mingi jokes. Then, addressing the others, says, "Time for us to leave unless you wanna hear them going at it."

Leaving them to their own devices, San brings you to his bedroom. The second the door closes he has you pressed against it, capturing your lips with his own. You press yourself into him, letting out a content hum against his mouth. In this position he towers over you, his frame completely enveloping your own. You don't feel nervous or scared, though; in fact, it turns you on.

You hook your fingers under his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against your palms. He helps you out, pulling away from you for just a moment to pull it over his head and toss it somewhere across the room. His lips are back on yours within the next second, as if your mouth is a magnet for his own. You run your hands up and down his back, feeling the muscles tensing under his skin. Just having his skin bared to you is already enough to get you moaning; you need more of him and you need it now.

You pull away from his lips to get some air. In between gasps, you manage to say, "Bed, now."

Your wish is his command. He lifts you up, biceps bulging, and gently places you on the bed. He hovers over top of you, messily leaving open kisses against your skin. You moan, giving into the sensation. It's been so long since you've had him like this and the buzz from the drugs is only making everything so much better.

"Wait." San raises an eyebrow as you crawl out from underneath him, hopping over to his desk. You open the top drawer and rummage around until you find exactly what you're looking for—a freshly made blunt. Picking that up and a lighter, you turn back to your boyfriend with a mischievous look in your eyes.

He smirks, leaning against the pillows. "I like the way you think."

Strolling back over to him, you get on the bed and throw one leg over his lap, straddling it. You give him the blunt and the lighter and, as he ignites it, you take off your shirt to give him a good view of your breasts. You hadn't worn a bra today, knowing that he loves when you don't. He almost chokes on the smoke as his eyes drink in your form, so greedy for a taste.

San's about to take another hit when the door to his bedroom opens. You cover yourself, panicking until you see exactly who's standing there—Wooyoung.

"Woo...?" You murmur, the syllable dropping off into a question.

He closes the door behind him and steps into the room. "Can I... Let me join you."

San chuckles. "I knew this would happen eventually."

You furrow your eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Woo has always had a thing for you. He told me a while ago. It's part of the reason he broke up with his ex, besides the fact that she was also a major bitch."

"Is that true, Wooyoung? Do you like me?" you ask, uncovering your breasts. His eyes instantly fall to them and he gulps.

"Yes."

You're sure that his honesty and what you do next is partly because of the drugs and alcohol swimming in your system.

"Alright. Join us."

Wooyoung moves forward, shedding his shirt as he does so, before crawling onto the bed next to you. He takes the blunt San holds out for him, plump lips forming a delectable "o" as he inhales. You watch him with hooded eyes, imaging those lips leaving a trail of blooming marks down your body, between your legs... You'd be lying if you said you'd never thought of this prior to tonight. You lean forward and kiss him and, for the second time that night, smoke transfers into your mouth from another's. This time, however, you're more than ready for it. You close your eyes in ecstasy, french inhaling as you slowly rock your hips against San's crotch, relishing in the groan he releases. You can feel him hardening through his jeans and you instinctively clench, already so desperate to have him—someone—inside of you.

Letting the blunt hang haphazardly out of his lips, Wooyoung grabs your waist and helps you move against San who occasionally lifts his hips, adding to the delectable friction that's making you whine.

Smoke starts to fill the room, making everything hazy. With every inhale, the smell of it invades your senses. You love it more than anything—it makes you feel like you’re floating. You reach over and pluck the blunt from Wooyoung's lips, taking another hit. Leaning down, you kiss San this time, biting his lip. Once he gives you access, you push the smoke into his mouth with your tongue.

“Fuck,” he groans, letting the smoke evaporate into the air. “It’s so much hotter when you do it to me.”

Placing the blunt into San's mouth, you reach down and unbutton your pants, managing to slip them off of your legs without even having to get off of him. With one less layer of clothing separating you, the friction of his tented jeans rubbing against your core is that much stronger. You throw your head back, sporadically rubbing yourself against him.

He reaches up and grabs one of your breasts, squeezing your nipple in between his fingers. “My angel is needy, huh?” he murmurs, smoke coming out of his mouth along with the words. You whine, nodding. “Alright then. Let me take care of you.” As an afterthought, he looks to Wooyoung who is currently palming himself through his jeans. "Actually, why don't we have Woo do it? I'm sure he's been dreaming about how you taste."

Before you can blink, San places the blunt in the ashtray on the side of his bed and flips you around so that your back is pulled taut against his chest. He nods at Wooyoung who gulps, moving forward and lowering down so that he's lying on the bed between your legs. You're certain that, at this point, your arousal has begun to leak through the fabric of your panties and the way his dark eyes take in the sight makes you squirm in anticipation.

San laughs, placing a sweet kiss against your temple. "Be patient."

Wooyoung begins to lightly trace patterns on your stomach as San attaches his plush lips to your neck, licking and sucking at the skin. The sounds you’re making are absolutely lewd, yet barely anything has even been done to you. Wooyoung leaves a hickey above the lace trim of your panties before hooking his fingers under the waistband and pulling them down, revealing your soaking cunt.

He kisses the inside of your thigh once, twice, before finally licking a strip up your core. Your entire body shudders and you arch your back instinctively. Your ass grinds against San's crotch and he groans, digging his fingers into your sides to keep you still. Your thighs close around Wooyoung's head yet he doesn't seem to have a care in the world, eating you out painfully slowly as if he is savoring every taste. You whine and squirm, fingers and toes searching for purchase within the sheets.

"Please, please, please," you gasp in between ragged breaths.

Wooyoung pauses, mouth hovering right above where you need him most. His breath is enough to make you clench, desperate for anything and everything.

"Please what, angel?" San asks. "Use your words."

"Please let me come."

Wooyoung kisses you right above your clit and you practically scream, tears welling up in your eyes. You're never like this, never this needy or this sensitive—it has to be the weed in your system. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it.

"Please who?" San's voice is deep, demanding.

Your voice is faint, barely a whisper. "Please, Sir."

He looks towards Wooyoung who is still hovering between your legs, lips glistening with your juices. "What do you think, Woo? Should we give her what she wants?"

Wooyoung pushes his hair back off of his forehead, sweat droplets falling onto the mattress below. "I know I'm more than willing to follow through."

San laughs, his chest reverberating against your back. "I'm sure you are. In that case, go for it; see if you can make her come as hard as I can."

Wooyoung takes on the challenge. His mouth attaches to your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. When he adds a finger, plunging it into your dripping core, you scream his name.

"Fuck, Wooyoung!"

Your hand tangles in his dark hair and you can't help but pull, too lost in your own lust to hold onto any semblance of thought. Wooyoung doesn't seem to mind, though. If anything, it turns him on knowing that you're so far gone.

"Come on, baby," San whispers, hot breath dancing across your ear. "Come for us. Show me how good Wooyoung is making you feel."

Wooyoung adds a second finger and before you know it, you're seeing stars. A blinding wave of heat and pleasure overtakes you and you're shaking but, God, it feels so, so good. Wooyoung guides you through your orgasm with soft, gentle licks against your swollen pussy as San whispers words of praise against your skin. When you come back down from your high, you register the feeling of tears on your cheeks.

Wooyoung, finally satisfied, crawls up to lie beside you on the bed. He chuckles softly when he sees the state you're in and kisses away the wetness on your cheeks with a smile.

"It was so good that you cried, hm? You're so cute." Then, turning to San, he smirks. "You ever make her come like that?"

San rolls his eyes. "Of course I have. Don't get ahead of yourself."

At this point, you can barely find the strength to form a proper sentence but still, you grab onto one of San's biceps, fingernails digging into his tanned skin.

"Why don't you show him?"

San's eyes widen ever so slightly. "Are you sure you can handle it right now?"

You nod fervently. "Yes, God yes."

San still looks hesitant so you take initiative, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his lips down to your own. You kiss him with everything you have, hoping it expresses your wanton need for him. Against his lips, you murmur, "I want you. I want you inside of me, please."

"Fuck, angel..." He groans and closes his eyes, shaking his head ever so slightly. "You have no idea what you do to me."

After shimmying out of his pants and the boxers underneath, he reaches behind Wooyoung and searches around in the drawer next to his bed, pulling out a condom. He carefully rips it open and, after blowing into it, begins to roll it down his shaft. He moans at the friction and you frown, realizing how little attention you've given him. Shooing his hand away, you take over, rolling it all the way down to the base. He buries his face in your neck, groaning every time you move. You continue to stroke him, bringing your hand up to the tip of his cock before twisting your wrist and moving back down. He doesn't let you continue your ministrations for long, grabbing your arm and forcing you to stop.

"I'm close," he explains, sweat pooling at his brow, "And I would much rather be inside of you right now."

You smile and peck him on the lips. "Okay, I'm ready."

With your consent, he lifts you up and sits you on his cock, pushing past your walls. He stills with a gasp. "Fuck, you're so wet. Wooyoung did a good job of getting you ready for me, didn't he?" You nod and he begins to thrust, making you fall forward and lean against his chest for support. "You always take my cock so well, don't you? It's like you were made for me."

You let out a strangled moan, the praise combined with his actions sending shockwaves straight to your core. You came not so long ago and already you can feel your pleasure coiling once again. "Fuck, yes, I'm yours," you say.

Wooyoung, neglected, takes action and moves forward, tucking a finger under your chin and tilting your head, forcing you to look at him instead of San. "Y/N... kiss me."

You lean forward, stopping a breath away from his lips. "Sir," you whisper, "Can I?"

San shudders as you clench around his cock. "Go for it."

At his word, you capture Wooyoung's lips with your own. The first thing you notice is that you can still taste yourself on him; the second thing is how passionately he responds to you and how eagerly he returns your affection. He tangles his hand in your hair, tugging slightly on the strands. You moan at the sensation, nipping at his lips in the process.

San snaps his hips, slamming into you at a menacing pace that has your thighs shaking from the force of it. You gasp and, unable to keep kissing, grab at Wooyoung wherever you can, searching for support. Your hands find purchase on his biceps and you dig your nails into his skin, too lost in your pleasure to be gentle. However, Wooyoung doesn't seem to mind—in fact, the slight pain causes him to moan.

You can tell San is close by the way his breathing is getting heavier and his thrusts are getting sloppier. You clench around him and he squeezes his eyes shut, groaning.

"Fuck, baby, oh my God—"

"Sir, I want to come with you," you whine, throwing the nickname in there because you know it will help bring him to the edge.

He kisses you and brings a hand to your clit, furiously rubbing it with the pads of his two fingers. "Okay," he pants, "Come with me, angel. Come with me."

The coil building in your abdomen comes undone once he snaps his hips at an angle that hits that one spot inside of you and you impulsively lean forward, biting onto Wooyoung's shoulder to muffle your loud moaning. The spasms of your walls against his cock have San following after you mere seconds later and he eases you off of him, letting you fall to your back against the mattress below.

San places a loving kiss against your temple and turns to Wooyoung, who at some point had taken off his own jeans, freeing his swollen cock. "Woo, come here," he commands, crooking his finger. You frown, realizing that Wooyoung has gone the longest without being touched; how unfair. You reach out a hand, willing to help relieve him, but San stops you. "No, you rest. I'll take care of him."

You watch with wide eyes as your boyfriend goes slack-jawed and takes Wooyoung's leaking cock into his mouth, allowing the other boy to fuck his throat. He sucks him off with the ease of someone who has done it multiple times before, knowing when to move and when to still, when to use his tongue and when to not. Saliva begins to dribble out of the corners of his lips and his eyes tear, but you can tell he's eager to help Wooyoung reach his end what with the way his hands are supportively rubbing the other's thick thighs. If you weren't so exhausted, you think you might have come again just from the sight of it.

It doesn't take long for Wooyoung to come with how long he's been holding off and San takes all of it, swallowing and gently pulling off of him. Wooyoung collapses against the headboard, chest heaving. After catching his breath, he looks at you and smiles.

"Well... this was fun, huh?"

You can't help but laugh, so blown away by the turn this night has taken. "Fun is just one of the words I would use, I think."

Wooyoung reaches out, carefully pushing your hair off of your forehead and the loving action reminds you of a question you had wanted to ask earlier.

"Woo?"

"Hm?"

"How long have you wanted this?"

His ears turn red and you can tell that the question embarrasses him, but he answers anyway. "Since before you and Sannie started dating."

"Wait... back in high school?" He nods. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was scared," he admits. "You and I had—have—been best friends for so long and I didn't wanna risk ruining that by acting on my feelings. Then I introduced you to Sannie and, well... the rest is history." You punch him on the arm and he whines. "What was that for?!"

"You idiot! I liked you too."

"You... what?" His complexion pales as the information sinks in. "Fuck."

San, silent until now, wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you towards him, kissing your cheek. "Y/N... do you still like Woo?"

"I..." You pause, startled. "Is this a trick question?"

He laughs. "No, it's not. And there's no wrong answer. Just be honest with me, baby."

"M-maybe." Your voice is small, tentative; telling your boyfriend you have feelings for your mutual best friend isn't something you ever saw yourself doing.

"What if I said I did too?" San asks.

Your jaw drops and you search his face for any signs that he's joking, but he looks completely serious. "Really?"

San nods. He gestures for Wooyoung to come closer and he does, scooting forward so that he's sitting right next to you. He rests a hand on your bare thigh, gently caressing the skin there and calming your nerves.

"Yeah. I like both you and Wooyoung and you like both of us, right?" You nod. "What would you think about making this a normal thing?"

"Like... the three of us all being in a relationship?" you ask.

Wooyoung shrugs. "We don't have to have any sort of label. This is just something we can try out. If it doesn't work, that's okay too. I won't mind."

You take a moment to think, weighing the pros and cons. Then, you realize something. “Wait… Did you guys plan this whole thing out?” San and Wooyoung share a guilty look and you laugh, shaking your head exasperatedly. “God, what am I getting myself into?”

Wooyoung’s eyes light up. “So you’re willing to try?”

You nod. “Yeah, I am."

"Great!" San kisses your nose and gets up, discarding the used condom into the trash can underneath his desk. He slips on a pair of sweatpants and goes out the door to presumably get some things from the bathroom, but of course not before throwing the two of you a dimpled smile and assuring that he'll be right back.

He returns shortly, opening the door with one hand as he holds two washcloths and some lotion in the other. He closes it with his foot and practically jumps on the bed, eager to not keep you or Wooyoung waiting any longer. Gingerly, he wipes away with your sweat, starting with what's on your face and not stopping until you are fully refreshed. Then, as he hums under his breath, he squeezes some lotion onto his hands and begins to gently massage you, helping to loosen up any tension and soreness you might feel. He saves your abused core for last, making sure to be extra gentle.

You watch with a content smile as he smothers you in aftercare, letting yourself just sit back and soak in every second of it. You used to feel guilty when he did this, feeling bad you weren't doing anything in return, but he's assured you so many times that he enjoys it and wouldn't do it if he didn't want to that you can't help but just selfishly enjoy it now.

Not wanting Wooyoung to feel left out, he makes sure to give him the same routine. Wooyoung is hesitant at first like you used to be but, before long, he's practically purring. Once San is done, he slides into bed behind you and covers your scantily clad bodies with the previously discarded blanket. Instantly, you slide closer towards him so that your back is against his chest and he sighs contentedly, resting his chin on the crown of your head. Wooyoung turns to face you and San, forehead almost touching your own, and you kiss him, making him laugh.

"I can't believe this is real," he admits.

You smile. "Me neither. It's weird, but it's nice."

San hums in agreement, already drifting off.

"I love you," you say softly, chest aching with just how much you mean those words. "Both of you."

"I love you more," San responds. Just like always.

"I love you, too." The same words Wooyoung has always said, but now with a different meaning.

It's nice, you think, having two people to wish you goodnight.

The following morning, you're the one who wakes up first. Wooyoung is the first thing you see, mouth slightly parted and hair a complete mess. You smile, finding it endearing. San's grip around your waist is tight but you manage to slip out of his hold, getting out of bed and throwing on a pair of underwear and a t-shirt. You open the door and quietly make your way to the kitchen, hoping that Seonghwa and Hongjoong are still asleep. You don't hear any commotion and you let out a relieved breath, glad that you don't have to deal with the embarrassment of facing anyone after—

"Good morning," Seonghwa says, peering up at you over the rim of his coffee mug. You freeze, watching as he takes a sip and then places it down on the counter in front of him.

"Oh, um, hey. Hope we didn't, uh..."

"Keep me up? No, not at all. Not like for a second I thought you were getting murdered from how loud you were screaming or anything like that."

Your entire body seems to burn from the force of your blush. "Fuck. Sorry, Hwa."

"Whatever, it's fine. But, I have to ask... Is that Wooyoung's shirt?"

Looking down, you see that you are most definitely wearing that shirt Wooyoung had on the night before. "Yeah, I... We, um..."

It's at this point that both Wooyoung and San emerge from the bedroom, San still clad only in his sweatpants and Wooyoung in a pair of boxers. San instantly puts his arm around your waist and lovingly pecks your cheek, and Wooyoung smacks your ass as he walks by to get to the coffee pot.

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow as he watches the scene play out. "You know what? This weirdly makes a lot of sense." Getting up and putting his now empty coffee mug into the sink, he adds, "Anyway, I'm headed out. You three think you're up for another party tonight?"

Your mind travels back to last night and what incredible things the party led to so, without missing a beat, you respond, "Oh, God yes."

Seonghwa laughs. "Cool. See ya later, Y/N."

The door closes with a slam behind him and you hear a groan come from the hallway behind you. You take a look around the bend to see a very, very hungover looking Hongjoong hobbling his way out of Seonghwa's room. You smile and share a look with Wooyoung and San, shaking your head. Looks like your prediction was right—you're gonna be stuck taking care of him after all.

[rayroseu]

I drew this for @chernabogs story Elegy !!! The way they wrote this scene was just so tender and soft, I HAD TO DRAW IT ‼️‼️😭😭🙏🏻💖💖✨✨ it was such a perfect treat considering how the previous chapters was "coarse" with how the story handled Malleus poor coping skills with loss, I love reading and rereading the chapters lol

I wishhh i was eloquent enough to verbalize how much I loved reading it 😩😩😩 The repeated questions of am i ill or that ever repeating quote that love is for the lonely then it gradually changed to its meant to be or or the way in every chapter there is always an element of Malleus wanting to get to know Yuu WAGHHHDJDBIEB JUST THE YEARNING OF IT ALL!!!!

ALSO ALSO ONE THING I NOTICED.... all the chapter names relates to a lament for the dead, and i just think thats such a devastatingly beautiful detail to add considering that even until the ending Malleus will still lose Yuu from death and he'll be alone just like how he always fears JUTSGUEGKFGDKBCHFKN i know it ended on a happy note but the chapter titles makes me think of that quote where "there WAS love but it didnt change anything" or smth😭😭😭

also love how "Malleus in a crisis" was written as well,,, malleus was so on character omfggg I swear Ames' characterization of this guy makes me feel like Yana Toboso is ghostwriting with them/lh ☠️☠️ LIKE HELLOOO the way the story sways erratically between Malleus accepting Yuu made an impact of his life and Malleus wanting to go back to being alone where he didnt know anything at all and wasn't quite in distress about having relationships, thats soooooo GOOD 😭😭💐💖💖💖 granted i cried from it though aihskwbks

Dont even get me started on the buildup????!!! and conflict that was all resolved in the final chapter was AUGHHH THATS BEAUTIFUL IM SO GLAD I CAN READ 😭😭✨✨✨ And and the realization that Malleus fears is not death but them?? Beautiful!!!!! 😭🙏🏻✨✨💖💖 Cuz really its true throughout the whole story he was more stressed that he's so attached now XD AND AND I LOVE HOW ALL THE MESSAGES(?) FROM PREVIOUS CHAPTERS MAKES A CALLBACK TO THE FINAL CLIMAX LIKEEE "He can be bold. He can be brave. He can say this.“I was not ill that night, nor are you at fault for that. I was… I am afraid." PEAK LITERATURE!!!!!!! I LOVE FORESHADOWS AND REPEATING THEMES, MAKES ME GO YELL ABOUT IT ALL 😭😭😭💖💖💖💚💚 I love the kobold on the last part as well lol he is a promoted therapist now 😭✨✨✨

also going back to the way the chapter titles are meant to be lamenting for the dead, "A new memory for each day he outlives you. He can capture those memories, store them in a glass ball so that he may watch them whenever he pleases. You will never truly be gone if you can both make it work." HELPPP THE RESOLUTION,..... AUUGHH IT MAKES ME CRY AIHWLDHOSHSK 😭😭😭💖💚💚

anyways my favorite part always ehehe grim fishing with lilia✨✨✨🥺🥺 and malleus having the naive expectation that first kiss is magical and wanting to test it out again skgixgsk😂

I love the part where Meleanor would raise an objection the moment its a human hes been contemplating about, this story just made me think.... LMAO MALLEUS IF MELEANOR SAW YOU LIKE THIS,,,, XD i feel like she'll tell you that if you fear living alone, just go out first and damned the other person about it instead JSKHDKDHHK i think it was really tragic how Lilia seemed to be set on dying for Meleanor only for the tables to turn ☠️

yes i did reference that acheswan dance from honkai star rail on lilinor part lol

[deathworlders-of-e24]

Liz, Biotechnician

Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liz was sitting in the lab, staring at a computer screen, and had been for 2 hours. She’d been asked for a consult by an associate of hers back on Earth who’d written a paper on Xenobiology, namely the life cycles of a very long lived aquatic species in the Gamma Seas.

Like immortal space whales, she thought sluggishly. While an intensely interesting topic to her, the paper itself was painfully dull. She’d only gone through half of it, but not once did it talk about their multicolored scales or the high frequency songs they sung to one another in the deep oceans. It’s was like she’d been editing textbooks all morning.

The only upside was she’d been soaking her feet in a portable spa under the table the whole time. If she was going to be trapped at her desk for hours on end, she was at least going to pamper herself while she did it. She took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. The whole room smelled of lavender now. It was nice.

Across the room the door opened, and in came the Sprygan.

“Hey stranger, haven’t seen you all day,” Liz said, without taking her eyes away from the screen.

“Is that what you have decided to call me?”

“Huh?” Liz looked up now, confused.

“Stranger. It’s not a name I’m familiar with.” The Sprygan stood there, and Liz was once again reminded of how small her lab partner was. Even when she was sitting down, the Sprygan only came up to her chest with their canopy.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, it’s just… like it’s a way to greet people, on Earth, I guess,” Liz didn’t want to start rambling again. The Sprygan just stood there, watching her. She assumed it was watching her, at least, they didn’t have a face. Supposedly the ones that went off world had a device implanted to turn thought into sound waves so they could communicate with other species, so having no mouth didn’t stop them, and had receptors in their branches to ‘see’ around them, like ganglia sending signals to the brain.

“Oh. Hello then, Human Liz. I didn’t realize your kind also drew in nutrients from your extremities.”

Liz was confused further for a moment before she realized they meant her tiny spa.

“Oh no, we don’t, that’s just to relax my joints. We eat things with this hole in our faces,” she pointed to her mouth and opened wide to show off her teeth. The Sprygan seemed to flinch away for a moment before settling.

“I understand. My mistake.”

They shuffled off to their aluminum pot in the corner, and clicked on the photo bar hanging from one of their branches.

Liz you probably just freaked them out all over again. Can a tree stress eat?

Liz took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Screw it, just say it.

“I think I made a mistake too,” she started, taking her feet out of the tub and turning her chair to face the pot. “I have not once meant to make you uncomfortable, but that seems to be all I’ve done since I walked in this lab. I’d really like to apologize for any…misunderstandings I’ve caused.”

The Sprygan didn’t move or say anything for a few painfully long seconds.

“I do not believe there have been misunderstandings. You have been very informative on how…meat[?] species behave.”

Liz tapped her translator, hoping to hear the alternative phrasing before she laughed out her nerves.

[Direct Translation of Sprygan word {meat}; non Sprygan; hunter; predator; creature that consumes proteins]

Liz laughed a little anyway, more like a nervous chuckle.

“Well then, okay, I’m glad you don’t hate me. I was really hoping we could be friends, since we’ll be here for a year together.”

The Sprygan reached a vine out and pressed a panel in the wall, popping a screen on.

“What is friends?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Liz had decided to take a break from both the space whale paper and her new ‘friend’, after she’d explained what that was. The Sprygan had concluded that ‘yes, that would be satisfactory.’

She couldn’t tell if it was a difference in brain chemistry or that they were just both inept at social niceties, but Liz was exhausted. How was she supposed to explain mammalian pack bonding to what was basically a bonsai tree from another planet? She wasn’t exactly the home coming queen back in the Academy, and if she was being honest, aside from her sister the only people who even called her were work colleagues asking for assistance on their work.

She needed sugar. Chocolate. Something to keep her brain awake while she trudged through the rest of the shift. She wondered if she explained the phrase ‘pulling teeth’ would the Sprygan understand her.

Liz walked down the hall from the lab, to the junction where the stairs and grav-lifts connected the floors and stopped in front of the Vending Machine. She still couldn’t believe these things could just make her a chocolate bar. They were all the rage on Earth. Just 10 years prior they’d been invented, able to restructure molecules into something else. They’d need materials of course, not unlike 3D-printers, but a box that could turn a spool of goop into anything from pizza to baseball cards was okay by her. She’d heard they were working to make improvements, turn energy into matter through synthesis, but that had to be a ways off. Still, a girl could dream.

The machine dinged and dropped out a few candy bars. Liz took them and started back to the lab. The door hissed open, and she saw the Sprygan at her station, looking at her screen.

“What are you doing?” She asked through a mouthful of chocolate.

“You were looking at a scientific thesis on the life cycles of the Lamorcan whale, I corrected a few mistakes…what is that? What do you have?”

If Liz was ever unsure of where the Sprygan’s attention was, right now it was laser focused on her. Several vines extended in her direction, circling around her face like snakes.

“Whoa, what the hell you doing hon?” Liz took a quick step back, slapping away a vine, which jerked back to the main body. The others stayed out.

“I can smell[?] something you have. You’re eating[?] something.”

She didn’t have time to get alt translations, because right then the Sprygan’s canopy started shaking almost violently.

“I know what that substance is! I didn’t know it grew on other worlds!”

It was the most energetic Liz had ever seen her lab partner. She’d laugh if it wasn’t freaking her out.

You mean… the chocolate?”

“If that’s what you call it, yes. Can I have some?”

“Will you retract the tentacles?”

The vines pulled back a little, enough for some breathing room at least. Liz broke off a chunk of chocolate and held her hand out. The Sprygan’s vine ‘hand’ reached out and plucked it from her palm before retracting back into their canopy. Their leaves shook again, this time for longer, and there was a slight hum in the air.

“So I guess you like it? I’m honestly asking, can you even…taste things?”

“Not like you can, but different nutrients give off different sensations. The glucose in this is extraordinary, and whatever else is in this chocolate as you call it is divine.”

“Cool, another sugar junkie,” Liz chuckled. She didn’t even have time to explain what that meant, she just kept breaking off pieces of candy bar and giving them to the Sprygan.

The chocolate buffet went on for a while, with an explanation somewhere in the middle about how something similar to cocoa beans grow on Spryga. Apparently they were an extremely sought after delicacy in the Sprygan colonies.

“So seriously, nobody has names on your world?” Liz asked after they’d gone through enough chocolate bars to make Willy Wonka scared.

“Only the colonies. I was part of the [error error].”

They made a physical sound by shaking their branches, with creaks and pops and leaves shaking.

“Yeah I don’t think I can pronounce that, hon,” Liz said. The two of them were sitting side by side on the work table in the middle of the room, her legs swinging above the floor, the Sprygan just standing on the counter. Upon closer inspection, their ‘limbs’ were just vines and roots wrapped together to form the shape of legs and feet.

“So how do your people talk to one another if you don’t have names? Do they just say ‘hey you’ or something?”

“We communicate through tactile contact with our roots or branches. I was confused in the last cycle when you held your hand out to me, I thought humans did the same thing.”

“Oh, no, sorry about that.” Liz threw another chocolate chunk in her mouth and dropped one through the leaves on their ‘head’.

“You need a nickname.”

“What is that?” They were shaking as they ‘ate’ the chocolate. Liz swore they were a little bigger than they were that morning. She vaguely remembered something about earth plants needing glucose to grow, so maybe space plants just did it faster?

“It’s like a special name your friends call you, I guess. Like my name is Elizabeth, but I like it when people I like call me Liz.”

The two of them had gone through literal poundage of chocolate by this point. Liz started to wonder if Sprygans could get sick off the stuff. She herself was feeling a stomachs ache coming on, when an idea popped into her head.

“Coco. I’ll call you Coco. That okay with you?” Liz hopped off the table, her still bare feet plopping onto the cool metallic floor. She faced the Sprygan and held out her hand again.

“Hello, again. My name is Elizabeth Collins, and I’m a biotechnician here on the Noah. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The Sprygan reached out with a vine and wrapped it around her hand.

“I’m a Sprygan from the [error error] colony. My friend named me Coco. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Okay then, glad we sorted that out. Now, you wanna help a girl out with this space whale paper? I think we can get through it faster with two of us.”

“I’ve already started, there were several mistakes in the first 4 pages I’ve corrected…”

Liz smiled. She’d made a friend. Maybe life on board the Noah would be better than she initially thought.

So long as there was chocolate on board.

[mintsturniolo]

oh baby... pt. 1 (m.s)

bf!matt sturniolo x f!reader x bsf!nick sturniolo

a/n: okay so i'm getting bored of writing fluff. can someone give me some angst or smut ideas please 😭 anyways i'm actively working on requests. i also have never gone to an ultrasound so... yeah idk what happens or doesn't happen there.

summary: hailey finds out she's pregnant and is scared about how matt is going to react

Matt was worried about his girlfriend. She’d been acting different lately and no one could figure out why. While it was no surprise that Hailey had a sensitive stomach, the most random things had been making her sick recently. He was currently waiting for Hailey to come out of their room, which she’d been hiding in for the past thirty minutes now. Matt and Nick looked up as the bedroom door opened and Hailey emerged from the room. She looked stressed as she looked at the two of them. “Nick, can we talk?” she asked running her fingers through her hair.

Noticing the confused look on Matt’s face, Hailey went over and gently planted a kiss on his lips. Matt smiled and took her hand. “Are you okay? I’m worried.”

“I’m fine, Matty” Hailey replied as Matt kissed her back. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”

Hailey led Nick to the bathroom and turned when she saw him hesitate. “Nicky please. I need to show you something.”

Nick glanced down the hall before following Hailey into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and raised an eyebrow. “Well? What’s going on?”

Hailey took a breath as she motioned towards the sink. Nick looked over and his eyes widened when he saw an unopened box of pregnancy tests on the counter. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “What? Hailey!”

“I’m freaking out Nick. Matt and I agree we weren’t ready. I’m scared how he’s going to react,” Hailey panicked. “I just have a feeling I am. Everything’s been off and it explains all my symptoms.”

Nick took a deep breath, knowing that freaking out wasn’t going to help his friend. “Okay. Take one right now. I’ll be in the living room. Call me when you’re done.”

Hailey nodded, too nervous to reply. She watched as Nick left the room, closing the door behind him. Hand shaking, she opened the box and pulled out one of the tests. She followed the instructions on the box and set the timer. After the longest few minutes of her life, Hailey looked at the test. She immediately felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. It was positive. She didn’t realize how long she had been staring at it until Nick knocked on the door. “Hailey? Are you okay?”

“Come in here,” Hailey stuttered.

Nick walked into the bathroom and frowned when he saw the fear in Hailey’s eyes. “Girl-” he started.

“It’s positive,” Hailey interrupted. “I’m going to take another one to be sure, but this one’s positive.”

“Okay,” Nick said, his tone slightly excited, but mostly nervous.

“Can you get Matt please,” Hailey requested.

Nick left the room and a couple moments later, Matt walked into the bathroom. He wrapped his arms around Hailey’s waist and planted a kiss on her cheek. “Are you okay? What were you and Nick talking about?”

Hailey reached past Matt and picked up the pregnancy test. Matt’s eyes widened when he saw it. He examined the results before looking at Hailey for confirmation. “That means it’s positive?” he asked, excitement creeping into his voice.

Hailey nodded, searching her boyfriend’s eyes to see if he was mad. “I’m going to be a dad?” Matt asked, clearly still processing the information.

“I need to take a second test to be sure, but yeah,” Hailey replied as Matt hugged her tighter. “Are you mad? I know we weren’t planning this…”

“I’m not mad. Are you kidding? I just learned that I’m going to be a dad with one of the most amazing girls in my life. I’m shocked but so happy,” Matt said, leaning in for a kiss. “Who else knows?”

“Just Nick. I told him to keep it quiet til we were ready to say anything,” Hailey replied as tears started to run down her cheeks. “I’m so glad you’re not mad.”

Matt gently wiped the tears off Hailey's face as he looked into her eyes.

*8 weeks later*

Matt and Hailey were still in shock that they were going to have a baby. They had announced it to Chris who immediately started referring to himself as uncle Chris. All of the boys had been even more protective of Hailey if that were possible. Matt couldn’t believe that he was currently driving Hailey to her first ultrasound. He parked and they made their way into the building. Hailey’s name was called and she could feel the excitement building. She was about to see her baby for the first time. She let out an excited squeal and grinned up at Matt. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” Matt replied as he squeezed Hailey’s hand.

Hailey had never seen Matt so attentive. He was incredibly focused as the doctor explained everything that would occur at this appointment, never once letting go of Hailey’s hand. The lady finished setting up the equipment and began to apply the gel onto Hailey’s stomach. After a few moments the doctor smiled. “Okay If you look right here, that’s your baby.”

Hailey couldn’t stop looking at the screen in front of her. Their baby was so small. Tears filled her eyes as she turned to look at Matt. “Look Matty, that’s our baby.”

“I know,” Matt said, smiling more than Hailey had seen in a long time.

When the appointment was over, Matt led Hailey out the door. It was quiet as the two of them processed everything. The ride home was full of anticipation. Hailey was eager to show Nick and Chris the ultrasound photo they had. When they pulled into the driveway, Matt went to the other side of the car to let Hailey out. He leaned down and kissed her for what felt like the millionth time today. He gently placed a hand on Hailey’s stomach, just as the front door opened. “Well are you guys coming inside or not?” Chris asked eagerly.

Matt laughed as he let go of Hailey. “Yeah. We got something to show you.”

Taglist

@adirtylittleheart @sturniolo04 @yourenogoodforme

[chattieb]

Okay, this has spoilers for my TCV au, but I really wanted to ramble about this plot point

Okay, everyone knows Rise Splinter wasn't the best dad, right?

I feel like, out of everyone, Donnie would hold the biggest grudge over that. Especially with the car demolition derby thing happening.

But. But. Think of how pissed Donnie would be once things start piling up.

Splinter never told them about their history, or Shredder, or their powers. Sure, fine, Donnie might let that slide. Splinter thought it was fake and Shredder had been gone for 500 years.

But then the Krang invaded. Something Splinter knew could happen based on his reaction to the Krang being mentioned in the movie. Something that, like the Shredder situation, he could have told them about.

Didn't Splinter learn from the Shredder situation? Didn't he learn that he should tell his family about these kinds of things?

Now Leo is rolling around in a wheelchair and still on pain meds. Pain meds that have the normally hyped turtle drowsy and loopy. Pain meds that Donnie swears Leo doesn't need anymore but somehow the slider is still in enough pain to say he needs them.

Mikey's hands won't stop shaking and Donnie is too busy to make anti-tremor gloves at the moment. Art is Mikey's thing, it's how the turtle processes things. By drawing his trauma, he feels like he has control over it, but he can hardly draw.

Donnie himself is getting phantom sensations of Krang tentacles worming into his skin. The nightmares are terrible, and he knows his brothers get them too. He's overstimulated to the point he can't wear his Battle Shell, sometimes not even his mask, because he's fucking stressed.

And Raph is in a coma. It's been months and Raph has been damn near unresponsive.

They could have been prepared, they could have been warned, but Splinter didn't tell them anything. Yet, Leo blames himself.

That was Donnie's breaking point. All signs pointed to Splinter at fault, but it took Leo, Donnie's twin who just got out of his own damn coma blaming himself for Donnie to snap.

He'd never argued with his dad before, but before he knew it, a few questions led to shouting, which led to screaming, which led to-

"THAT'S IT- GET OUT! STAY OUT OF MY FUCKING LAB AND STAY OUT OF MY LIFE! YOU WERE HARDLY IN IT ANYWAY!"

The words are out of his mouth before Donnie can process them. The pure hurt on Splinters face has a weight settle in Donnie's gut.

But, despite it all, Donnie feels glad. Good. Let him hurt. Let him feel a fraction of the pain his kids are feeling.

Donnie starts hanging around Draxum more after that.

[multi-fandom-things730]

Across Enemy Lines

Summary: Jon Moxley’s sister has been through a lot during her career at AEW, but Tyler has always been there for her. So when Wheeler starts messing with Tyler, Y/N is not going to sit by and watch it happen.

Warnings: family drama, fighting, arguing, violence, intergender fighting, weapons, threats, protective!Y/N, angst, fluff, Wheeler being a little jerk, bit of spice

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic!! It is quite long😅 But I worked super hard so I hope you enjoy!! The support I get on my fics really means the world to me and I love each and every one of you!!!!!!!!🥹🤍 And as always, a special thanks to @99hook , who always listens to me ramble about my ideas and helps me💛✨ And to @madhatterbri who listens to ramble as well, and helped me come up with the PERFECT name for this fic💜

Y/N let out a sad sigh, and watched as her breath swirled around the cold air in front of her.

She was sitting on a curb outside the arena, knees pulled to her chest as she waited for Taz's car to pull around and pick her up.

Tyler had been ejected from the building earlier that night, after getting into a fight with Wheeler and pushing an official.

She would have gone with him, but Y/N had recently become good friends with MJF and knew this night would be stressful for him as he looked for partners in his match against Jay White and his gang.

She didn't want to leave him, and Tyler said he needed some time to himself anyway. She knew he'd probably go to the gym and beat the crap out of some innocent punching bag until she got there, so she stayed.

But Y/N was now fully convinced the night couldn't have gone any worse. With Tyler getting thrown out, Mox beating the hell out of Orange, and MJF and the acclaimed losing, she just wanted to go curl up in Tyler’s arms and never leave.

But she turns to look when someone clears their throat behind her.

She turns to stare back up at the sky when she sees Claudio Castagnoli looking down at her. "What do you want Castagnoli?"

"Castagnoli?" Claudio sits down next to her. "I think you and I are far past last names"

"We used to be" Y/N says softly. "I don't know if we are anymore"

Claudio nods sadly. "We all miss you, you know? We'd be happy to have you back. Especially Jon. He misses his sister"

Y/N laughs, but they both know there's no humor behind it. "You think I'd come back? After everything? Especially the shit Wheeler pulled tonight?"

“I tried to get him to stop" Claudio points out.

Y/N lets out a sigh, her defensiveness fading. Claudio didn’t deserve it, he never deserved any of her attitude. He was the one who was always there for her. "I know... I'm sorry for snapping at you"

Claudio shakes his head. "No, don't apologize. I get it Y/N"

"I'm glad" she breathes out, before turning to face him. "Because, if you do get it; then you also get that I'm not going to just sit by and watch Wheeler mess with Tyler"

"I know" Claudio nods, but she can see the sadness he’s trying to hide in his eyes.

"I.." Y/N trails off nervously, before reaching over and putting her hand on top of his. "I miss you, Claudio"

He smiles sadly, and reaches over to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. "I miss you too Y/N"

"You know, I met Tyler during that feud we had with the Jericho Appreciation Society" Y/N reminisces with a smile.

"I know" Claudio smiles back. " I was there the night that Daniel was bothering you. I was just down the hall on my way over when Hook came and stopped him"

"Hey gorgeous"

Y/N rolled her eyes as Daniel Garcia came walking over to her.

"Don't call me that Garcia, and leave me the hell alone" Y/N huffs, trying to step around him and continue her way to the locker room.

"What's the rush? You should get used to me since you'll agree to go out with me soon" Daniel smirks.

"No, I absolutely won't Garcia" Y/N narrows her eyes up at him.

She tries to brush past him, but he grabs her arm to stop her.

Before he can get another word out, a hand grabs Daniel's shoulder.

Daniel drops Y/N's arm, and is then thrown against the wall.

Y/N's eyes widen as she realizes it was Hook who had come to help her.

The two hadn't really spoken before tonight, except for smiles and nods upon passing each other in the halls.

"You like can’t take no for an answer, huh?" Hook practically growls.

"Hook, it's fine. I'm fine, let him go" Y/N assures, placing her hand on his and pulling him off of Daniel.

Daniel gathers himself, and quickly runs away as Y/N stares up at Hook.

"You didn't have to do that for me, but thank you" She smiles.

"You don't need to thank me" Hook shrugs. "I don't like guys who act like that"

"You don't need to worry about me, I could take him" Y/N shrugs.

"I have no doubt about that" Hook grins. "But you shouldn't have to"

In truth, Hook wasn't just around by accident.

He had developed a crush on her, but was too nervous to approach her.

She was so beautiful, smart, and tough… and he knew if Mox found out he would beat his ass.

But as the two of them fell into casual conversation, and he got to watch her laugh at his lame jokes, he couldn't care less about what Mox would do. It would be worth it.

"He earned my respect that night” Claudio says. “He's a good man, stepping in to protect you like that"

"He is. He's the best man I could have ever asked for" Y/N lets a dreamy smile form on her face as she thinks about him.

Claudio smiles and squeezes her hand. "I'm glad; you deserve nothing less than perfect"

"He's not perfect" Y/N giggles. "The first time he was around me crying he had no clue what to do"

Claudio joins her in laughing. "When was that?"

"After Regal betrayed us" Y/N answers. "He came to my hotel room that night. He wasn't sure how to comfort me but, he came anyway. He thinks he did a terrible job but, I don't think anyone else would have been able to make me smile as much as he did"

Y/N didn't know what to do when she saw Regal hand MJF those damn brass knuckles.

She ran around ringside as fast as she could, and dove into the ring to try and grab it before MJF. But Regal grabbed her leg and pulled her back.

She whipped around to face him with fire in her eyes. "How could you do this?!"

He didn't give her an answer, just a sneer.

And before Y/N knew it, the bell had rung, and MJF was standing tall with the belt.

What should be her brother’s belt.

She felt like she could burst into tears, having to watch the man who had become like a father to her betray her brother.

But she kept her composure, and simply helped Mox out of the ring and up the ramp.

The fellow members of the BCC were waiting for them in the guerrilla, and clearly ready to go exact some much-deserved revenge.

Claudio walked over and took Mox's arm, helping Y/N hold some of his weight.

"Guys! Stop!" Y/N demands.

"We can't hurt Regal!" Bryan insists.

"He betrayed Mox! He betrayed all of us!" Wheeler yells.

"Shut up!" Y/N snaps, causing all of them to do so and look at her. "We can deal with what we're gonna do to Regal later! Now we need to get Jon to the trainer's room"

They all nod and make their way there.

Y/N and Claudio sit Mox down in a chair, and the trainers get to bandaging him up.

Y/N lets out a sigh as her eyes burned from the tears welling up.

"Are you okay?" Claudio asked her softly.

"I just... Can you guys stay here with him? I need some air" The guys nod as she rushes out of the room and into the hallway.

She leans against the wall and sniffles, a tear finally making its way down her face.

She scanned the hallway, trying to make sure no one was watching her cry.

But her eyes stop on Hook, Tyler, as he now insisted she call him.

He was further down the hallway, watching her with sympathetic eyes.

She attempted to smile at him, but she knew he saw right through it.

He looked back down at his phone, and Y/N understood why when her's buzzed in her pocket.

Are you ok?

Not really

Meet me at my hotel room, 189

Thank you Tyler

Of course mamas🧡

Tyler grinned when he saw a tiny smile form on her face. She loved being called that, and he loved watching her face turn pink and bashful every time.

But then Claudio walked out of the room, and Tyler quickly looked away before he got caught staring.

Little did either of them know that Claudio saw through the window of the door before he ever walked out of the room. But he waited to walk out to let them have a moment.

"Is there anything I can do to cheer you up Y/N?" Claudio asked.

"Could you, maybe, take me to get ice cream?" Y/N hesitantly asked.

But all Claudio did was laugh and nod. "Your wish is my command"

Later that night, Y/N approached Tyler's hotel room nervously, and when she got to the door she almost turned around.

But Tyler, who kept checking the peephole every few minutes, saw her approach and opened the door. "Hey"

"Hi" she replies nervously, a hesitant smile on her face.

"Come in" Tyler opens the door wider, and Y/N walks in and sits down on the bed.

Tyler sits down next to her, nerves coursing through his mind. He wasn't sure how to comfort her, but he damn sure was gonna try. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible" Y/N answers honestly. "Hanging out with Claudio helped some though. And Jon.. he doesn't want to talk to anyone right now"

"I'm sorry" Tyler says softly, and places his hand on her thigh. "I'm sure he just needs a little time after everything"

"Yeah" Y/N huffs angrily.

She abruptly stands up and starts pacing back and forth. "That bastard screwed him! He betrayed all of us! Just threw us away like we were nothing!"

Unsure of what to do, Tyler sat and watched as she paced and yelled. His eyes stayed trained on her, listening intently to every word while simultaneously trying to ignore the incoming thoughts about how sexy she looked while angry.

"After everything, he just turned on us like it was the easiest thing in the world. Made us all trust and love him and then he shows his true colors. A sneaky little SNAKE is all he is" Y/N seethes. "When I get my hands on him I'm going to rip him into little pieces. I'm gonna leave him a beaten bloody pulp!"

"If you did that you'd never forgive yourself" Tyler interjects.

Y/N's head snaps over to him. "What do you know?! The only thing I regret is stopping Claudio and Wheeler from going out there and giving him exactly what he deserves tonight!"

"No you don't" Tyler insists. "You say all this now, but when it came down to it tonight you didn't let them do anything. Because you care too much about Regal despite what he did"

Y/N stops pacing, and a glare forms on her face. "Are you trying to make me feel better?!"

"Yes" Tyler replies quickly, suddenly scared of the glare that was now directed at him.

"And that's supposed to help?!" Y/N exclaims.

"I... I don't know.." Tyler trails off nervously as she begins pacing much quicker this time.

"Yes! Obviously I still care about Regal! But it's not like I want to! It's not like that's by choice! Do you think I want to still give a damn about that snake?! He's the reason my brother isn't the world champion anymore!"

Y/N suddenly stops pacing and just stares at the wall for a moment.

Tyler stands up, and slowly approaches her. He wraps his arms around her from behind in a hug. She leans back into him as he rests his cheek on top of her head.

"Why.. why do I still care about him?" She mumbles, and the sadness in her voice was enough to make Tyler want to punch Regal himself.

"Because you are such a caring and loving person" he answers, and places a kiss on the top of her head. "You are so in tune with your emotions, and because of that you love so deeply, and it's not easy for your love to break"

Y/N is silent for a second. "How do I stop being like that?"

"You don't" Tyler immediately answers. "It's what makes you, you. No one wants you to let that go. You wouldn't be you anymore"

"But it hurts so bad" she whispers miserably, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks again. She had lost count of how many times she cried that night.

"You're my strong girl" Tyler says, giving her a squeeze. "You'll be okay. Yes, it hurts right now. But I know you'll be okay"

A small smile makes its way onto her face, her mind now distracted by his use of the phrase ‘my strong girl’ instead of ‘a strong girl’, and she turns around in Tyler's arms. "Thank you"

He smiles back, and pecks her cheek. "Of course"

"I'm sorry for snapping at you" Y/N apologizes, placing her hands on either side of his face.

Tyler turns his head and kisses her palm, before smiling down at her. "It's okay, I understand"

"You're my knight in shining armor" she giggles, and he laughs too.

"Could I have orange armor?" He asks, and they both laugh again.

"Absolutely" she agrees, a smile growing on her face that finally reaches her eyes.

The two gaze into each other's eyes, soaking in the moment with happy grins.

"You are beautiful" he says softly.

"Thank you" Y/N replies. "You're pretty handsome yourself"

"Can I kiss you?" Tyler breathes out, his grip on her waist tightening nervously.

But she just rubs her thumbs back and forth against his cheeks. "Yes"

He wastes no time after that, and leans down to press his lips against her's.

It was short, but sweet and passionate. Everything you could hope for in a first kiss.

"He didn't ask me to be his girlfriend that night though" Y/N smiles. "He didn't want our anniversary to also be the anniversary of Regal betraying us. He said it wouldn't make for the happiest of celebrations"

Claudio chuckles and nods. "He was right about that"

"He waited a few days, and he took me out to dinner. Then to a random little park, and asked me to be his girlfriend there. It was so sweet. He gave me this that night too" She pulls a necklace out from under her shirt.

Claudio reached over and held the charm in between his fingers. It was a heart, with a pearl charm next to it on the chain, and the letter T was engraved on the heart. "It's beautiful"

"I know" Y/N grins. "I need to remember to not tuck it under my shirt. I'm just so used to hiding it from Jon"

The two chuckle at that, before Claudio says "I don't think that's necessary anymore. He definitely knows about you two"

"What if someone comes in?" Y/N rushes out as Tyler pins her against the wall of the trainer's room.

"They won't. The trainers are in the locker room tonight because of the renovations in here. Everyone knows that” Tyler replies against her neck, before he resumes placing kisses up and down it.

Y/N bites her lip as she runs her fingers through his hair, savoring the feeling of his body pressed against hers. "But Jon will be looking for me soon"

"Shh, it'll be fine mamas" That was all it took for her to nod, and stop worrying about her brother.

She smiled as his lips trailed up her neck and eventually connected with hers. She felt him smile into the kiss too, and give her ass a squeeze.

"We've checked everywhere but here Clau-"

Y/N pushed Tyler away as fast as possible, but it was way too late.

Mox had burst into the room, despite Claudio's best efforts to stop him. Claudio had seen Y/N slip into this room, and then saw Tyler sneak in a few minutes later.

And he didn't want Mox to kill Tyler.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Mox exclaims, and if looks could kill Tyler would have been dead on the spot.

"Let's not overreact" Claudio grabbed Mox's shoulders in an attempt to defuse the situation. "Let's give them some privacy-"

"Privacy was the issue!" Mox screams, before brushing Claudio off and stomping towards Tyler who quickly backs up. "You think you can put your hands on my sister and get away with it?!"

"Jon!" Y/N yells, stepping in between him and Tyler. "I don't need your permission to be with someone! I'm not a child anymore! And you don't get to treat me like one!"

Mox stares over his sister's head, directly into Tyler's eyes for a few moments, before looking down at her. "How long has this been going on?"

"A few months" she answers honestly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Jon. But I wanted my boyfriend in one piece"

Mox huffs, before taking a few steps back and crossing his arms.

Tyler, who had been standing silent this whole time in an attempt to not further anger Mox, placed his hand on the small of Y/N's back.

"He makes you happy?" Mox asks, and Y/N immediately nods. "Yes. Very much so"

Y/N's eyes flicker over to Claudio's, who sends her a sympathetic smile before walking over to grab Mox's shoulders. "Come on, let's leave them alone and you and Y/N can talk privately later"

Mox sends one more glare over to Tyler before letting Claudio practically drag him out of the room.

Y/N lets out a sigh before turning to face Tyler. "I am so sorry for that"

"Don't be sorry mamas" he replies, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her towards him.

Y/N leans her head against his chest as he rubs his thumbs back and forth on her hips.

"It was kinda my fault anyway. I am the one who dragged your cute little ass in here" Tyler grins, before reaching around and grabbing her ass.

Y/N rolls her eyes. "It didn't take long for you to get back in the mood. Need I remind you my brother just almost beat you to death?"

Tyler pretends to think for a moment, before resting his forehead against her's. "I can't really remember that. Not while I have this gorgeous girl in front of me"

"You're so cheesy" Y/N giggles before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"Only for you, and you love it" Tyler retorts with a grin, before kissing her jaw in return.

The Y/N and Claudio sit in silence for a moment, before Claudio speaks up. "Do you ever regret leaving?"

Y/N thinks for a second. "I regret that the situation happened. But it did, and there's nothing we can do about it. So no, I don't"

Y/N trudged through backstage with a frown on her face.

She didn't relish having to deal with Wheeler Yuta for yet another night.

And tonight was going to be especially bad, because tonight there was a parking lot match between the best friends and the BCC.

Y/N would have never told anyone, except Tyler of course, but she didn't like the way her teammates were acting.

The only person in the best friends that really did anything wrong to Wheeler was Trent, but here they were trying to destroy all of them. When they were already destroyed by the sadness of Wheeler leaving them.

Y/N almost cried at ringside during the match between Mox and Wheeler and the best friends. Watching Wheeler pin Chuck with the very pin he taught him how to do made her stomach twist into knots.

After that she started thinking about how their group acted as a whole, and how everyone was scared of her. It made her sad when she tried to be friends with people but they were too scared because of her being in the BCC.

And it seemed Orange Cassidy had started realizing that Y/N wasn't down with all of the BCC's actions.

Because as Y/N walked down the hallway, he stepped out in front of her. "Hey"

"Hi" she replies simply. Not saying anything more, but not trying to leave either.

"I noticed you seemed to.. hesitate last week when your teammates started with us" Orange says.

"I did" Y/N nods.

"Why?" Orange asks.

Y/N thinks for a moment. "Because I think the way they've been treating you is messed up. And I don't really like Wheeler"

Orange chuckles at the latter comment. "Yeah"

"Mhm" Y/N nods.

"Would you consider, maybe like, switching sides?" Orange purposes.

Y/N is quiet for a few seconds. She had thought about it, and to be completely honest, it sounded like a nice change. "Would I get to be on the t-shirt?"

Orange laughs at that before nodding. "Yeah"

"Then I'll definitely consider it" Y/N pats him on the shoulder before continuing her walk down the hallway.

"Cool" Orange nods before continuing on his way too.

Y/N wanted to run to Tyler and ask him what he thought about the offer. But at the same time, she knew it needed to be her decision and not influenced by anyone else.

Being a part of something where people would like her instead of fear her was a very tempting offer. She wasn't like her brother in that way, she didn't like people scrambling out of the way every time she walked down the hall.

It didn't make her feel powerful, it made her feel sad.

Y/N was practically stumbling over herself when she bursted into the best friends' locker room after the parking lot fight.

She was holding 4 first aid kits, as many as she could carry at once, and was out of breath from running.

"Are you guys okay?!" She exclaims, dropping the kits on the ground to run over to Orange and examine his face.

"Why do you care?" Trent grumbles.

"She's cool guys" Orange says before sending her a weak smile. "I'm fine Y/N"

"I'm so sorry they did this to you guys" Y/N breathes out. "I should have done something"

"Nah, I'm glad you didn't" Orange replies. "That probably would have just pissed Mox off more; he woulda just given us a worse beat down"

"So, are you on our side now or something?" Chuck asks.

"I.." Y/N trails off. "I'm not one hundred percent sure yet. It's not easy to think about leaving my brother but, I think I will"

Orange pats her on the shoulder. "We get it. It shouldn't be easy to leave the people you care about. That would make you like Yuta"

His comment makes everyone chuckle.

"And Trent?" Y/N says, making the man in question look over at her. "I need your help with something"

"Why the hell would you buy Trent's mother a new car?!"

Y/N rolls her eyes as her brother yells at her.

She was in the BCC's locker room, the entire team in attendance for Mox to scold her.

"I can buy whoever I like, whatever I'd like to" Y/N says firmly. "It's none of your damn business what I do"

"Yes it is, I'm your brother" Mox says through gritted teeth.

"Precisely!" Y/N stands up and crosses her arms. "You are my brother, not my boss! You think you get to decide what I do, and that all of my actions need to be pre-approved by you. But they don't!"

"Why do you even care about Trent’s mother?!” Wheeler snaps. “You know what they did to me-“

“They didn’t do shit to you Wheeler!” Y/N finally screams what she had been thinking for weeks. “Boo hoo, Trent was mean to you. But nothing that happened warrants the way you go after them!”

Then she grabbed her bag and stormed out of the room, brushing past the camera guy who was sitting outside of the room eavesdropping.

“So you’re on their side now?!” Wheeler yells, chasing after her.

“I’m not on yours!” She retorts.

Of course it was at that moment the rest of the BCC caught up with them. And then the best friends came running down the hall after hearing the yelling.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Chuck asks, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“Fuck off” Bryan snaps at him, but Y/N sends him a glare. “You fuck off”

“You know what?!” She screams, staring at her former teammates. “You can ALL fuck off! I’m done with you Wheeler! I’m done with running around behind you all like a puppet! I’m done with everyone being scared of me! And I’m done with the BCC!”

With that, she runs down the hallway with tears streaming down her face.

She gets to Tyler’s dressing room and knocks timidly on the door.

After a moment the door opens to reveal just the man she was looking for.

She immediately ran into his arms, hugging him around his waist and crying into his chest.

Tyler quickly closed the door, before guiding her to sit down on the couch. Where he pulled her onto his lap and held her as she cried. “Hey... it’s okay”

“No, it’s not” Y/N sniffles. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take Wheeler, or- or the fighting, I-“

“Shh” Tyler gently shushes her. He wipes her tears away with the sleeves of his hoodie, before placing a chaste kiss on her temple. “I understand. But right now I need you to calm down. Can you do that for me babygirl?”

Y/N just nods in reply, and curls back into his chest.

The two sit in silence as Tyler places another kiss on her head and rubs his hand up and down her back.

“I love you” Y/N breathes out.

Tyler smiles softly. “I love you too”

Y/N sends Claudio a weak smile. “I really do miss you, Claudio. You’re my best friend. I just need to make sure you know that”

Claudio smiles back. “You’re my best friend too”

“And out of respect for you, I’ll do my best to stay out of the issues between Tyler and Wheeler. You know I stay out of your issues with the best friends. I don’t want to fight you guys. But Tyler’s a different situation. And I will only put up with so much”

Claudio listens intently as she stares directly into his eyes for the last sentence. “So you better either put him in check, or prepare him to deal with me”

Claudio nods. “I understand”

“You don’t have to come out there”

Y/N sighs at Orange’s words.

Her, Orange, and Tyler were walking down the hallways towards her dressing room. Tyler had his arm around her shoulders, and she was close to his side while Orange was walking beside her.

“But shouldn’t I? I don’t want anyone thinking I’m not 100% in your corner” she says.

“None of us care what anybody else thinks” Tyler replies. “We know you’re behind us mamas. But we also know it isn’t easy watching us fight your brother. And no one will judge you for that”

“What he said” Orange nods.

Y/N smiles, and leans up to kiss Tyler’s cheek. “Thanks you guys”

Y/N didn’t want to go out there.

She had avoided the BCC successfully since she left; she even managed to control herself enough to stay backstage at Wembley.

But watching Wheeler seatbelt lock Tyler, and then Mox start ripping into Orange about how he ‘ain’t shit’?

Well, that was simply too much for her to take lying down.

And for the first time in weeks, Mox paused when he heard his sister’s music hit.

She stormed down the ramp, and her glare somehow got stronger when Wheeler slid out of the ring.

He smirked, and made a mocking motion for her to get closer.

But his laughing stopped when she stepped right up to him, so close that their chests were touching.

“You have two seconds to quit that childish shit before I teach you a lesson” she deadpanned.

“What lesson would that be?” Wheeler challenges.

“What it feels like to get your teeth knocked out”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mox climbs out of the ring and starts to walk over to them.

“Run off little gir-“

Wheeler didn’t even get to finish his sentence before Y/N’s closed fist connected with his mouth.

Wheeler fell backward, and Y/N jumped on top of him.

The crowd cheered as she rained punches down on him.

But then she was pulled off of Wheeler, and she yanked herself out of the person’s grip.

She whipped around and came face to face with her brother.

But she didn’t do what Mox expected her to. Her glare didn’t soften, and her fist didn’t open. Instead, she pushed him, making him stumble backward.

“Don’t put your fucking hands on me!” She screamed.

Then Claudio came sprinting down the ramp, and immediately put his hands on Y/N’s shoulders, stopping her from advancing towards Mox. “Hey, let’s all take a step back”

“You all take a fucking step back!” Y/N demands, ripping herself away from his grasp.

“Or what?!” Wheeler, who had just pulled himself up, yells.

“OR THIS!” Y/N screams, grabbing a steel chair and swinging at him.

Claudio yanked Wheeler back just in time, and pulled him further up the ramp. “Okay! We’re going Y/N! We’re going!”

Y/N held tightly onto the chair as she watched the three men retreat up the ramp, and didn’t let go until they had gone through the tunnels and were out of her sight.

She let out a breath, and dropped the chair to run over to Tyler. “Baby? Are you okay?”

“I’m good” he breathes out, pulling himself up.

Once he’s up he pulls her into his arms. “Are you okay after all that?”

“I’m fine” she answers, holding onto him tightly. “You’re not mad at me?”

“No” Tyler says with a little smile. “I’m not thrilled; you could have gotten hurt. But I can’t deny that you handled yourself. And I’m glad you got some good hits in on Yuta”

That makes them both chuckle, and Y/N pulls away enough to look at him. “I love you”

“I love you too” he grins, and they laugh into their kiss as the crowd pops around them.

They pull away after a moment, and they walk over to Orange.

“Are you okay hon?” Y/N asks, kneeling next to him.

“Yeah” he shrugs.

Y/N shakes her head at his monotone answer, but wraps her arms around him to help him up nonetheless.

Tyler helps pull Orange up, and the three walk out together with their heads held high.

Y/N had strolled down the hallways of the arena the next week with her chin up.

Tyler had won his match against Rocky Romero, and her best friend Kris Statlander had beaten Diamante.

And now after all that Y/N was curled up with Tyler in her dressing room watching Shibata fight Wheeler.

Tyler had his arm around her, and she had her head laid against his chest as she fidgeted with the rings he had on his free hand.

Tyler leaned down to place a kiss on her temple.

She smiled up at him and returned a peck on his cheek.

“You think Shibata’s got this, right?” He asks.

“Definitely” Y/N immediately answers. “He’s a much better wrestler than Wheeler”

But Y/N’s eyes widen when Wheeler throws Shibata into the ref, and then hits him with a low blow while the ref can't see.

“Are you fucking joking?!” Y/N fumes as Wheeler DDTs Shibata right on his head and gets the pin.

And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Shibata still tries to shake Wheeler’s hand. But Wheeler just low blows him again and hits him with another DDT.

Tyler jumps up and goes storming out of the room, Y/N quickly following him.

Y/N was ahead of Tyler by the time they were going down the ramp, jogging down it and right at Wheeler.

She picked up a chair on her way, and stared Wheeler down as Tyler climbed into the ring to check on Shibata.

Tyler didn’t even feel the need to watch his back, he knew Y/N had him covered. So he just focused on making sure Shibata was okay.

Y/N kept her eyes locked on Wheeler as he retreated up the ramp, paying no mind to the belt he was holding up.

She only looked away once he got to the top, and was more occupied with taunting the judges who watched him cheat.

She rolled into the ring, and grabbed one of Shibata’s hands. “Are you okay? Your neck is good?”

He nods in reply, sending her a weak smile.

Y/N and Tyler exchange looks, and they can both see the anger behind the other’s eyes.

Tyler walked into the hotel’s gym at 3 AM, still feeling half asleep.

He had woken up, and Y/N was no longer asleep next to him. He knew that she had a lot of pent up energy from all of the anger, and that there was one place she’d go to get it out.

He was proved right when he found her beating the hell out of a punching bag.

Being in the BCC had taught her a lot of things, some good and some bad. And some walked the line right between.

Y/N had learned to take her anger out in violence. She didn’t really know any other way.

She wanted to get her hands on Wheeler and rip him apart.

“Hey”

Y/N pauses when she hears his voice.

She takes in deep breaths as she catches the punching bag, stopping it from swinging. “Hi”

Tyler walks over with her water bottle, holding it up for her to drink.

“Why are you awake?” She asks him through deep breaths.

“I missed you” he smiles, causing her to smile back.

“Sorry” she says.

“Don’t apologize” Tyler shakes his head. “I understand”

“He just gets under my skin like nobody else. And TK won’t let me have an intergender match” she huffs.

Tyler laughs. “I should have known you would ask”

Y/N shrugs. “Wheeler would probably refuse anyway”

“Of course he would” Tyler laughs. “He knows you’d beat his ass”

Y/N laughs too. “Hell yeah I would”

“You should get some sleep though mamas” Tyler wraps his arms around her waist. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of Wheeler”

Y/N couldn’t help but smirk at the dark tone that overtook his voice. “Yeah?”

“You know I will” he replies gruffly.

Y/N’s smirk grows as she looks up at him, and places a kiss on his lips.

Tyler kisses back, and tightens his grip on her.

He pulls away and grins at her. “Consider it a Christmas present”

Y/N laughs at that. “I’ll only consider it that if you let me get a few hits in”

“I think you have gotten more than enough hits in” Tyler chuckles. “His mouth probably still hurts”

“I hope it does” Y/N shrugs. “That was just a warning”

[luna-rainbow]

RE: People giving Bucky a hard time over his "I'm invisble, I'm turning into you.." line being "selfish" That whole scene is Bucky displaying behaviour consistent with depression or traumatic stress. He's drinking by himself in an isolated area, isolating himself from social situations by not sitting with the ohers - he doesn't initiate the convo with Steve and he's apparently smoking. Although a lot of people did that then we didn't see any sign of him smoking before? Not that I recall anyway. And I don't believe he was jealous of a woman paying attention to Steve instead of him or "taking" Steve from him. Bucky's a true friend (I'm not a shipper full stop): and true friends aren't possessive nor do they take issue with you spending time with others or flirting with the same person as them.

I think Bucky was simply testing himself. He wanted to see if he could still muster the confidence and charm to convince a lady to dance with him which he'd probably never had any problems doing before. Its the first time he initiates a conversation the entire scene.

When it didn't work was when he knew there was something wrong. I don't think it was just the super-soldier serum. It's interesting that after that Steve is really the only person he interacts/talks to having been very sociable and outgoing before. Some people have also noted that his tone of voice chances as well, he seems to speak less often, more softly and his tone is quieter. So maybe "I'm turning into you" is actually a kind of role-reversal. Bucky is now the quiet, less confident, introverted one and the one who has been victimized (and is about to be again by HYDRA). Kind of interesting as well that the serum now means Steve is taller than him too.

Poor Bucky. Cut him a break and give that man a hug. And a cookie. A cookie can't hurt.

Hey nonnie, I'm not sure who's been giving Bucky a hard time over the "I'm invisible" speech but I'm glad I haven't seen it XD

I had a meta a while ago about that particular line. It's not a fixed headcanon by any means, I was just running with the flow of Bucky's thoughts to see how he might have ended up in that moment.

And yeah, I agree, I think he was in a very vulnerable place at that time. Not just what he went through during imprisonment, but he's also traumatised by what he's seen so far in the war, and now someone who matters very much to him is in danger (Steve) and he can't do anything about it. I'm basing my projections on what Sebastian had said about Bucky in the "let's hear it for Captain America" scene -- that no, he wasn't jealous of Steve in that moment, he was just horrified he wouldn't be able to protect him anymore. He's torn between admiring Steve for the courage, and the very realistic fears of seeing Steve come to harm, but he also knows Steve too well to talk him out of it. So he's not in the best headspace in that moment.

I do want to gently disagree in that jealousy in a friendship doesn't make it less pure or less good, it's simply a very human response to what is at its heart a fear of abandonment. Even if you logically understand that you need to let your friend have other relationships, you can still feel jealous if that eats up time you'd normally have with your friend, and apprehensive about what else you might lose. It's what you do with those emotions that defines your morality. This is why a lot of fans say that Bucky has had a villain origin story but has come out the other end a hero -- he's gone through an arc of loss and fear and jealousy, but come out the other side still staunchly Steve's friend, and that's a heroic arc.

As always I think Sebastian did a fantastic job with Bucky. The change in Bucky pre-war and post-war is considerable.

His voice is lower and coarser, his mannerisms are much more "schooled" rather than boyish, it screams less bravado and more of a quiet assurance, and that frown never lifts from his brows. But yeah, a lot of that is battle-hardened professionalism, but I think a lot of that is also Sebastian factoring in Bucky's mental health. And his eyes are on Steve a lot more even when they're not conversing -- shipping angle aside, Steve is his commanding officer, and my other thought is that...his eyes are always on Steve because the danger to Steve is much higher now, and he's always made it his personal mission to make sure Steve's going to be okay.

(I mean there's also a lot we can say, or has been said, about that particular scene in terms of male writers writing female love interest badly, but that's an entirely different topic)

[myownwritings]

One-(p)up - Lance Stroll

lance stroll x fem!girlfriend!reader

Summary: it's your boyfriend's birthday, and you have to think of a perfect idea to one-up his birthday gift to you, except… you somehow forgot his birthday was today.

Warnings: None. This is just one big floofy fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

A/N: this is my first Tumblr post. I hope I did the lay-out correctly.

Requested by @heartbreakinmiddecember.

‿︵‿︵ʚɞ『』ʚɞ‿︵‿︵ ‿︵‿︵ʚɞ『』ʚɞ‿︵‿︵

It was October 29th, 08:00 AM, and you were pacing nervously through the kitchen. How could you have forgotten about your boyfriend's birthday? His birthday?! You rubbed your temples, trying to think of something that would be a quick fix. And it had to be something amazing. Because for your last birthday, he took you to Paris, showed you the entire city and spent a week in the French city of love.

And you, very confidently, then promised him you would one-up him.

But it is his birthday today, and due to all of the stress at work and him being gone last weekend, you forgot. Girlfriend of the year, right?

You opened the fridge; the least you could do was make him breakfast and hopefully get a wonderful idea before he would greet you in the kitchen.

And in the middle of your attempt to make breakfast, Lance entered the kitchen, only wearing grey sweatpants. You looked up from the pan frying the eggs and smiled at the sight, “My birthday boy.”

Lance returned the smile and walked to you, “Good morning, baby.”

“Happiest birthday,” you said and wrapped your arms around his neck as soon as he was close enough. “I am making you some breakfast.”

“Can I help you?”

You shook your head, “You’re not supposed to help me; it is your birthday.”

Lance chuckled and pressed his lips on your temple, “Okay then. Am I allowed to grab my own coffee?”

“Sure thing. I am almost done anyway.”

You tried your best not to be too nervous around him. Knowing your boyfriend, he was not even going to ask about his present– he did not care about materialistic things. That did help to avoid the subject for at least another few minutes as you danced around the kitchen to set the table.

“Lancey? Come eat breakfast, love.”

“I am right here, baby,” Lance said, taking a seat at the table. “It looks and smells delicious, thank you.”

“I tried my best.”

“I haven’t had a birthday breakfast in years.”

Last year, his birthday was during a race weekend overseas, making it impossible for you to celebrate his special day together, all the more reason for you to make this one special.

“Glad I could make you one,” you replied and took a bite from your breakfast. “When was the last time?”

“I think ever since I was a teenager. Due to the races, most of my birthdays were spent with hotel breakfasts.”

You nodded slowly, chewing and still thinking about the perfect birthday gift, “Are there other things you missed out on due to your career?”

Lance put his fork down as he tilted his head, visibly thinking about an answer. He had not expected the question; the two of you never really discussed childhood matters, as it was not necessary, according to you— you much rather focussed on the present time and the future, as those were the times you could still alter.

“Uhm,” he hummed, showing that he was still thinking about it. “When I was a kid, I always wanted a dog, but unfortunately, my parents never agreed due to my lack of availability to take care of it. They said they would hire someone for anything but taking care of a dog.”

“Ah,” You said, and a little smirk crept on the corners of your lips. “Good thing you’re living on your own now, then, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

You shook your head quickly, as a sudden idea had sprung to mind, “Nothing, baby. Just finish your breakfast so we can get ready for the day.”

Lance smirked smugly, “Ah, yes,” he said in remembrance. “You are trying to one-up the trip to Paris. Tell me, how are you going to do so?”

“Oh, Lancey, I can’t spoil your birthday gift already,” You grabbed both empty plates to start and clean up. You had an idea in your head, but you couldn’t arrange it with Lance still near you.

“Go get ready,” You spurred him on to leave the room. “I will clean this up.”

Lance nodded, gave you a kiss on the cheek, and left the room as you quickly loaded the dishwasher. You waited until you heard the water from the shower running before grabbing your phone.

The idea had suddenly snapped into your mind; there is a puppy ranch nearby, and you knew the owner from one of your previous summer jobs, one before you got your full-time job, and one before you knew Lance.

You dialed the number, and wonderly, the owner picked up before the third ring, “Hey, y/n! How are you?”

“Good morning, Henri,” You greeted your old boss. “I am good, but I need a favor.”

“Sure, tell me.”

“Did you, by any chance, have 8-week-old puppies at this moment?”

“Uh,” A little sigh rolled over the lips of the man on the other side of the phone, “I think I have one litter of puppies. One of the labradors had 7 puppies, but listen, y/n, 5 of them are already reserved and paid.”

“That means two are not, and I just want to bring my boyfriend over to cuddle with them, too. Is that possible? It is his birthday, too. I promise to buy whichever one he chooses.”

“Of course, you and your boyfriend can come over. I also have a litter of 5-week-old labradors.”

“Thank you, Henri!” You almost exclaimed; your plan was actually working. “We will be there within an hour.”

You hung up and walked to the bedroom. The shower just stopped running, and Lance stepped out of the bathroom, towel around his waist.

A playful whistle ran over your lips, immediately creating a grin on Lance's face.

"Do we need to hurry, baby?" Lance asked as you made your way to the bathroom.

"Within an hour, but it's nearby. Don't worry."

Lance nodded and got dressed while you took a quick shower and got dressed afterward. He waited patiently on the couch, scrolling through his Instagram as you came down. You smiled as you saw the amount of memes he passed on his following page.

"Ready to go?"

Lance put his phone in his pocket, got up from the couch, and walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the tip of your nose, "More than ready."

He grabbed the keys to the car from the little dresser in the hallway, and that's when you put out your hand, insisting that he had given over the keys.

"You're kidding me, right?" Your boyfriend asked, almost laughing as if it was a joke. You, too, knew that he was no passenger princess, but for one day, your roles in the car were reversed.

"I am serious, Lance," you said. You shook your hand, another demand for him to drop the keys in your hand.

He rolled his eyes and gave over the keys to his Aston Martin. You had driven it before, mostly when he wasn't in London, you weren't with him to the races, or whenever you ran last-minute errands.

"It better be worth it," He said, taking place in the passenger seat.

"You won't be a passenger princess for long, baby," You reassured him. "And I will let you drive on the way home."

Lance nodded, and you started driving to the ranch. Lance looked out of the window, trying to find any clues on where you were going, but after ten minutes, the busy city street changed into the quiet countryside streets.

"Not long?" He chuckled as he got more comfortable in his seat.

"Five more minutes," you informed him, and that information somehow made him even more comfortable.

Arriving on the ranch, Lance got out confusingly, "Baby, are you sure we're at–"

"Y/n!" A stranger called for you, earning your attention as you turned to where the sound came from.

"Henri!"

Lance got even more confused; he turned along and saw how you quickly hugged the older man. He straightened his back and smiled at Henri as the elder one reached out for his hand.

"You must be the boyfriend," Henri said, shaking Lance's hand. "I am Henri. Y/n used to work for me when she was still a student."

"Ah," Lance retorted, quickly licking his lips. "I am the boyfriend, indeed. Lance Stroll."

"Familiar name," Henri muttered, returning his attention back to you. "Y/n, where did you pick this boy up from again?"

You chuckled, "He's a racing driver, Henri. And I met him when I was at the headquarters of Aston Martin for that job application I told you about."

You didn't get the job, but you did get Lance, who had offered to give you that same job multiple times, but by the time you and him had gotten serious, you were already in a perfect position at your current job.

"Of course," Henri said enthusiastically. "She told me a lot about you before she started that corporate job."

Your cheeks got red as Lance smiled amusingly, "She did?"

"Enough, please," you begged both of them. "Henri, please lead us to Lance's surprise."

The three of you walked across the yard until you reached the building in the middle; Henri stopped in front of the door, "I already let them loose in their playroom. You know how it works, y/n. Good luck."

And Henri walked away, leaving Lance very confused. He reached out for your hand on the doorknob, "What is going on, baby?"

"I am not going to ruin the surprise two seconds before you see it yourself. You heard Henri, I have worked here. I know what's going to happen and how to handle things."

Lance gave you a quick nod, and you opened the door, entering a small, empty hallway. You grabbed Lance's hand and led him to the only other door.

"Ready?" You asked.

"More than ready," he answered.

You opened the door, and immediately, seven puppies ran up to you and the– now very surprised and amazed– boy next to you.

"Oh my–!" Lance exclaimed as the puppies jumped against him and let out little, playful barks. Lance kneeled down to give them attention– big mistake. All seven puppies jumped against him, causing him to fall over.

The puppies took advantage of Lance's vulnerable state, jumping on top of him and licking his hands and his face.

"Y/n!" Lance called out to you, his laugh echoing throughout the room. "Help!"

You first grabbed your phone to quickly snap some pictures. Lance tried to give equal attention to all the puppies, but he was totally outnumbered and there was no way for him even to try and get up.

"Y/n, please!" Lance begged, but the laughs were too contradicting to immediately act on his cries for help.

"You're doing great, baby," You said instead and kneeled down next to him in an attempt to get one of the puppies to go to you instead of to him. "They just seem to love you totally."

Lance chuckled; with the attention of the puppies divided between the two of you, he could finally sit up and give you a cheeky smile, "This was an ambush."

"You did it to yourself. I would never sit down that fast."

"And you didn't think of warning me?" Lance carefully grabbed one of the puppies and started petting it gently before the pup jumped away again.

"You can have a slight do-over with the German Sheppards in the next room. But they are still with their mom, so mostly it is just watching and reaching out your hand when they come to you yourself."

Lance chuckled, "This is already amazing, baby. Thank you."

"You wanna know the best part?"

Lance crocked his eyebrow as he tilted his head, waiting for you to give him the answer.

"We can adopt one," You said happily. "If you want to."

You didn't know how to describe what happened on your boyfriend's face; it went from confusion to realization to shock and happiness.

"What?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Yeah! We can adopt one of the puppies, which will be yours, entirely. I will just take care of them whenever you're away."

Still, you could not describe the light in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth must have started to hurt. Everything about him seemed light all of a sudden.

"You're not joking now?" He tried confirming with you.

"No, baby," you reassured. "This is my birthday gift to you."

Lance got up, maybe a bit too quickly, as the puppies tried jumping him again, but he made his way to you and crashed his lips against yours, "I love you so much." 

You cupped his cheek and pressed your lips back against his before whispering, "I love you too." 

It didn't take Lance long to sit back down and let the puppies playfully attack him again. You sat back as the smile on your face only kept growing. And the guilt you had felt this morning had completely disappeared. 

Seeing your boyfriend so happy, so playfully, and finally in the off-season felt incredibly good. 

"Hi there," Henri's voice cut through the laughs, giggles, and small barks. "Having fun, I see."

 You turned around and smiled, "He's in another world." 

"Lance," Henri only now gained Lance's attention. "That blonde over there and the brown one there are still up for adoption."  

Lance looked at both the puppies, his eyes breaking a little just thinking about leaving one behind, "Can't we adopt both?" 

He then looked at you, tilting his head as he gave you his best puppy's eyes. You let out a small groan, "Come on, Lance..." 

"Baby, please," he begged you. "I promise we will do them good. They will have each other to play with. I will spend so much time with the three of you." 

You rolled your eyes, but the smirk already gave away the answer you were about to give, "Only if you admit that I did one-up you on this birthday." 

Lance crawled to you, kissed your lips, and nodded, "You definitely did, baby." 

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — around sounds nice

FINALS: Seoul's Univeristy of Multi-Arts (SUMA) VS. Yonsei University

WARNINGS ; suggestive(ish), mentions of revenge p*rn (4.1k)

for the first time in a while, jang wonyoung was excited to play volleyball.

it was an odd feeling, in retrospect. volleyball, at least for the past three or so years, weighed on her back like her last name. it was full of expectations, of goals that she didn't set (or was forced to, anyway).

it was suffocating, humiliating. the sport that proved her comfort, that provided her safety, was one of the causes of her stress as of late.

yet suddenly, now that yoo jimin was out of the picture...

wonyoung was glad that the locker room didn't seem like a battlefield anymore.

"i see the hickeys haven't faded." yujin snickered, her face now littered in fading bruises, and the cut on her eyebrow and lip healing nicely.

wonyoung blushed. as much as she hated jimin, part of her wished that she would pop up to shut yujin up.

"do you have to mention that every time?"

her fingers traced over the marks on her neck, wonyoung's face burning as she remembered the hours with y/n, alone in her dorm room. she knew it was a goodbye, the older girl's fleeting touches a reminder of y/n's worsening mental state, and wonyoung's inability to do anything.

wonyoung shook her head. now wasn't the right time, not when yonsei was here.

yujin nodded as if what wonyoung said was already a known fact. "absolutely."

"you shouldn't even be talking to me, unnie." wonyoung mumbled. "coach said no talking with the members."

yujin pouted, slumping down next to gaeul who was currently listening to her pregame playlist. the taller girl wrapped her arm around her girlfriend, trying not to sulk.

she knew that she was single-minded. all of her thoughts were about volleyball and gaeul. although she finally got to talk to her girlfriend again, yujin was dying to play.

besides, she was the captain.

"well," she huffed, gaeul rubbing her back to calm her down. "coach said me and jimshit can sit on the bench today, so i think i'm off probation."

wonyoung shook her head as she laced up her shoes. "is that what you told gaeul-unnie?"

yujin sulked more, and wonyoung couldn't help but wonder how gaeul managed to put up with her for her entire probation.

(wonyoung always seemed to have found yujin outside the building right after practices, quite literally kicking rocks.)

the door swung open, coach seulgi glancing around as the girls huddled. everyone knew who she was looking for, a certain raven-haired, rage-fueled demon nowhere to be found.

seulgi knew what to expect. the season was tough on her star players and the inner conflict between her team, but she hoped that jimin was still that girl she had heard about so long ago.

after all, she accepted this position to work with yoo 'the ace of korea' jimin.

"girls," she smacked her coach board as she sat, garnering their attention. "i know you all probably have nerves, especially since two of our players are gone-"

"nothing we haven't dealt with before, coach seul." yena puffed out her chest, and everyone could see the uncanny resemblance between her and a certain semi-aquatic bird.

"don't call me that." seulgi shook her head, watching as chaeryeong hit yena's shoulder. "look, we've played against yonsei. we know that they're the only team this year that has a good roster with great plays and a good coach. we've went through their playbook, their rotations, and i know we're down two, but we have something they don't have."

jinsol's hand shot up in the air, an aura of seriousness clouding her. "the power of friendship?"

hikaru, thankfully, lowered the taller girl's hand.

"do any of us look like colorful horses?" hanni couldn't believe that jinsol was her best friend.

"they were ponies, actually." haewon interrupted, her voice monotone. the words flew out of her mouth, but the stares of her teammates made it register almost immediately. "what?"

like usual, seulgi ignored them. she was used to their liveliness, anyway. "we have resilience. we have brains and brawn."

yunjin pointed to her left. "jinsol has a 2.0 gpa."

"enough about my gpa."

"don't let your nerves get to you out there, okay?" seulgi scolded, pointing at all of them (but more specifically, wonyoung). "i know it's easier said than done, but you need to look out for each other. remember that it's my job to yell, and yours to play."

"aye, aye, coach."

seulgi rolled her eyes, yena's voice loud and clear. she was gonna miss the older girl, but she hoped that this year, she'd pass her classes so seulgi would never have to see her again.

that is, unless yena decided to pursue volleyball beyond university.

a shiver went down her spine.

shaking the thought off, her gaze moved to wonyoung. her eyebrow raised at the faded marks on her neck, but the coach was just glad that wonyoung had enough decency to try to hide it (unlike other members on the team).

"any words for us, cap?"

wonyoung looked at yujin, who stared back at her. she frowned and looked around the room before remembering that she was the fill-in.

"oh." she cleared her throat. wonyoung wracked her brain for anything she could think of, but she was never the leading type. she never understood how yujin could do it so effortlessly. "um, i know this year has been hard for us, more than others... but we've gotten this far. even if we don't win, we've learned from this. our team is smarter than theirs, stronger."

she didn't think they would win. they needed yujin, and although she hated to admit it, they needed jimin. aside from herself, they had lost the top two scorers on their team. they had lost yujin, their all-rounder, and jimin, their star player. sure, yunjin was back, but with her being out for sixty percent of the season, it wasn't enough.

yonsei had everyone. they had the fifth and eighth-ranked hitters on their team, and a competent setter with an amazing playbook. their defense, from what she remembered last game, was near impenetrable. even their coach was an olympian, much like seulgi.

they had barely won, and that was with yujin and jimin.

yet with all the odds stacked against wonyoung, she couldn't help but feel excited for what was to come.

with a soft smile, wonyoung spoke.

"it's a win either way for me."

y/n thought the drums during the last suma versus yonsei game was bad, but somehow, this was so much worse.

everything was brighter, louder than before. the crowd littered with painted faces, a distinguishable divide between red and blue. the signs were bigger this time, and from where she stood, she could see at least a dozen shirtless men on the yonsei stands.

('what's wrong, suma? scared? jealous?')

behind her, loud yells could be heard, chants of 'vicky' and 'yawnsei' being shoved into her ears. y/n didn't mind the 'yawnsei' part. in fact, if she weren't so busy dying from overheating, she'd join in.

she just wished those stupid 'vicky' fangirls would stop chanting wonyoung's name over and over again.

the lights dimmed, the first few players coming out, wonyoung being one of them.

suddenly, the shrieking got louder, and y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes.

she was thankful for uchinaga aeri, and y/n was genuinely excited to sit next to wonyoung's long-time friend. aeri was caring and was the reason why y/n was even functioning at this point.

she just wished aeri didn't pick a spot close to the 'vicky' fanclub, even if her friend was in the group.

y/n took a sip of her water, her eyes never leaving wonyoung's figure.

she couldn't help but smile as the volleyball player looked her way. it quickly faded, however, the fan club behind her suddenly begging for wonyoung's hand in marriage.

y/n grumbled. "so annoying."

aeri and alex glanced at each other, their eyes meeting knowingly.

aeri snickered, nudging the young actress. "you only think they're annoying because they're holding cardboard cutouts of your girlfriend."

"no!" y/n tried to deny it as best as she could, but she knew her face betrayed her. it didn't help that she remembered some random girl with a 'vicky' necklace.

she took a breath, the atmosphere of the gym heightening her already intense emotions for wonyoung. y/n didn't have a right of feel this way, to act as if her love meant something when she herself didn't mean anything to wonyoung anymore.

"she's not my girlfriend."

still, wonyoung was a past that y/n would live over and over again if she could.

yuri, who hadn't been listening much to whatever the hell was going on, scanned the team as they gathered at the bench. she could see yujin clear as day. the girl looked taut, obviously frustrated but keeping sane.

"damn it." yuri groaned, fishing out a thousand won bill. "jimin's not on the bench."

"told you that ass wouldn't show." alex took the bill out of yuri's hand, smirking lightly as she high-fived aeri.

"wait a second." chaewon took a closer look at wonyoung, noticing some... odd shadows. "are those hickeys on wonyoung's neck?"

all of them: rei, jiwon, yuri, minju, chaewon, alex, and aeri, glanced at y/n. most of them already knew what happened, being told one way or another. it was just funny to focus on the evidence instead of the truth.

"what?" y/n covered her neck. it felt hot, a blush creeping up. "what?"

minju rolled her eyes, turning her gaze back onto the sea of blue. she was proud of y/n decision. it just took her by surprise that the younger girl wasn't jumping at the chance to get back with wonyoung.

ever since she's known y/n, she was always wonyoung's. her l/n y/n. minju's impression never changed, even when y/n was with jimin.

the stands across from them moved in unison. it looked like an optical illusion, their blue shirts, sweaters, and face paint making it hard to distinguish one from another. the only thing minju could differentiate from the crowd was the cutouts of the yonsei players.

the crowd moved to stand as yonsei's captain began to speak.

almost immediately, minju's eyes shot to the top left, a hidden corner that no one would notice. that is, if they stood up.

minju nudged yuri from beside her, gesturing to where she was looking at.

they could see it, them. a pair of bored, hatred-filled eyes stared into the court, into wonyoung while another scoured through suma's stands, searching for something.

jiwon followed their gaze, landing on the couple(?).

"is that jimin?"

rei rubbed her shoulder as the younger kim flinched at her own words, not used to the lack of formality. it wasn't that jimin deserved respect, of course not. she knew that jiwon was too nice for her own good.

maybe that's why she loved her so much.

"with her hand on minjeong's waist? yeah." yuri muttered, huddling closer to the kim's and away from y/n. she didn't want to remind her of jimin, after all. "that freak is insane."

minju looked at her girlfriend, the reminders of what she and jimin did lingering. she told no one what she woke up to the night after they confronted minjeong. she didn't even tell chaewon.

even though she deleted it, the videos were still engrained in her mind. it was a copious amount of videos, all of which she watched through.

she knew that her and chaewon weren't together then. minju knew they had technically broken up. yet, as irrational as it was, she just wanted chaewon to wait for her to get better.

she shook her head. minju didn't want to think about that, but would rather listen to her girlfriend's conversation.

"so," chaewon smiled at y/n. sue her for being nosy. "since you and wonyoung have matching love bites, i'm guessing that means you two are back together?"

"no." y/n shook her head. "we aren't."

"huh?" yuri's head perked up. y/n, like always, never updated the group chat when she needed to. granted, yuri was throwing every threat under the sun at minjeong at any given moment, but she would've paused to catch up with her friends. "that's stupid as hell."

minju elbowed her. "yuri."

"what?" yuri glared at her friend. "those idiots love each other."

y/n burned a bright red once more. her love was plain as day, as clear as snow. it burned proudly, even to the point where it was willing to consume anyone in its way.

"it was my decision." y/n wasn't gonna let it burn wonyoung, not if she could help it. "i wasn't gonna put wonyoung through all my hurt."

"you two could've worked through it, like me and yena."

"maybe." y/n looked onto the court, smiling as wonyoung goofed off. she hadn't been like that since the beginning of freshman year. "but i'd rather miss her than hurt her, even if it's by accident."

minju looked at chaewon.

oh.

wonyoung didn't know how long that stupid ball had been up in the air.

it hadn't even reached the first kill, yet somehow, yonsei had managed to get a rally going. their libero had managed to barely receive chaeryeong's jump serve, giving suma a free ball.

gaeul immediately knew that wonyoung wanted it. she could feel her demeanor change, but it was something she's never seen before. it was ravenous, just like jimin had been. wonyoung seemed to have the sharpness that she's always lacked, the ferocity.

yet this was different from jimin's.

the ace was bound by her rage. her obsession with being the yoo jimin, of having something to prove to her dad everyone weighed on her like chains.

wonyoung seemed free.

gaeul set the ball.

it was too high. her nerves got to her. the lack of yujin's presence, of her lover and of her captain, got to her. she felt it the moment the leather left her fingertips, her arms too taut. the numbness turned cold as her fingers buzzed.

still, wonyoung somehow managed to reach it.

the ball rocketed, nearly straight down. it hurled and before wonyoung could blink, yonsei's libero managed to get under it, tossing it up into the air.

another free ball, in favor of suma.

yet again, they did the same thing. this time, gaeul had set up yunjin.

received again.

a setter dump.

received again... and again, and again.

suma couldn't keep the energy up, and soon, by sheer exhaustion, the ball was spiked out of bounds by wonyoung herself.

she could practically hear jimin taunting her in the crowd as the whistle blew. the chants to her left got louder, the sea of blue ridiculing her.

wonyoung took a breath.

they weren't losing too badly.

after the first set went to yonsei, suma managed to bounce back with two in a row. although close, 25-23 and 27-25 respectively, a win was still a win.

unfortunately, yonsei had switched to a different setup. from all the footage they had watched, yonsei had never fully committed all their best defensive players at one time until now. they had always been known for their attack, even with their amazing defense.

they had managed to lock wonyoung down, always ensuring that three blockers were in front of her at all times. somehow, they jumped higher than before, but that only meant one thing to wonyoung.

she had to jump higher.

still, it took an entire set to adjust, to find her rhythm once more.

2-2, suma and yonsei tied.

wonyoung listened to the ball as one of the yonsei players (one she's sure gaeul had hooked up with multiple times) dribbled, getting ready to serve. the outside hitter glanced at the score, sweat dripping down her neck.

29-30, in favor of yonsei.

she glanced back onto the ball, digging her feet into the ground as a loud smack permeated the crowded gym. wonyoung's heart was pumping, her nerves somehow more tired than her legs.

the ball went over her head, straight into haewon's arms. she could see the bruises starting to form on her teammate's forearms.

she felt sluggish, yet she still took a step back. her feet were firmly placed on the attack line, arms back and ready to jump.

gaeul, despite the soreness accumulating in her shoulders, set wonyoung a bit higher than usual. she knew that she could reach it, that she was willing to. wonyoung wasn't gonna go down without a fight, even if that meant ripping her muscles apart.

wonyoung slams her hand onto the ball, feeling it rip through yonsei's trembling hands.

it was perfect, it should've been, but that stupid libero, the one that always seemed to bait out wonyoung's most powerful spikes, reaches out for it. it barely touches her flat hand on the ground, sending the ball flying on the very edge of the net.

both sides watch as it threatens to fall. both sides pray for a break, for a second to gather their thoughts. they want - need - it to drop on the other side.

the ball tips, and everyone scrambles to get it up.

but they were too tired.

the whistle blows, and a heaviness enters wonyoung.

29-31.

she'd never tell the girls, but wonyoung had fun losing.

of course, she'd prefer to win. all the pain and hard work made it worth it, and she would've loved to hold the trophy up with her teammates. sure, it would've been made of cheap plastic, but at least it was shiny.

still, the lack of expectation: a place without her parents' watchful eyes, without yoo jimin hounding her for every mistake she made...

wonyoung had forgotten how fun volleyball could be.

(she also forgot how emotional it could get. an example: hanni currently crying in the change room as coach seulgi tried to console her.)

wonyoung stepped out of victor's hall, trying to ignore the stares that some of the suma body was giving her.

"unnie!"

wonyoung turned around, a slightly shorter girl, one with the same smile as her, approached. she carried a baby blue banner, her face plastered onto it haphazardly.

'go wonyoung-unnie!'

she smiled, waving at the older woman with puppy dog eyes that followed behind her.

"hyunseo." wonyoung hugged the younger girl, warmth spreading through her chest. "you came."

hyunseo nodded, waving her arms animatedly. "yeojin-unnie managed to convince our parents as long as she gives me a good word to snu's dean."

"of course they did." wonyoung smiled at yujin's sister. "hi, unnie."

"hey." yeojin patted her shoulder. it was weird seeing wonyoung look so grown up. "great game, wonyoung. i'm sorry that you lost."

surprisingly, wonyoung wasn't as upset as she thought she would have been. she was used to the guilt and incompetence brewing in her stomach, but whether it was the joy of her baby sister watching or the fact that she was still reeling from the goodbye with y/n, wonyoung didn't know.

"it's okay." the volleyball player shrugged, ruffling hyunseo's hair. hyunseo pushed her off. "we would've won if the circumstances were different."

"yeah, if yujin wasn't getting in random fights." yeojin couldn't believe her little sister. "where is that loser anyway?"

"with her girlfriend."

yeojin paused. yujin never mentioned a girlfriend before.

"she didn't tell you?" wonyoung tilted her head as she wiped her face. "gaeul-unnie-"

"kim gaeul?!" yeojin's eyes widened. her nearly failing, jock of a sister was dating the daughter of two of the most renowned lawyers in korea? "how the hell did yujin manage to pull her? she's got the brain of a mutt! yujin's gonna water down her brain cells!"

wonyoung didn't want to agree (but deep down she did). "yujin-unnie's gotten better, i think."

"whatever." yeojin shook her head. "where are they?"

she blushed, not wanting to think about the fact that they were most likely in some stall a mere ten meters away from them.

"just, um..." wonyoung cleared her throat. "give them a moment to themselves."

"oh."

hyunseo looked at her older sister curiously before wonyoung shook her head. hyunseo was bound to learn it in school if she hadn't already, wonyoung was not about to teach her.

"wonnie."

wonyoung spun around at the speed of light. her brain registered the voice before she did, but she didn't mind. she'd never pass up an opportunity to not speak to y/n.

"y/nnie?" wonyoung grinned, her heart fluttering. "hey."

she wondered throughout the game whether y/n was watching. after all, she had never missed one of wonyoung's games. granted, she was dating someone on the team, but wonyoung had the right to be a little delusional.

it didn't help much now, though. they both knew it was over (for now).

"you played amazing." y/n handed her an ice pack. "for your knee."

some things never changed.

"right." wonyoung grabbed it gently, awkwardly holding it as hyunseo pushed past her.

"y/n-unnie!"

hyunseo had met y/n a couple of times, wonyoung introducing her as her 'friend'. she wasn't stupid, she saw the heart eyes they gave each other, and the subtle hand holding.

"hi, hyunnie." y/n squeezed her lightly, pulling back. last year, hyunseo was only a centimeter taller than her. now, she was nearly wonyoung's height. "wow... you've gotten tall."

"i have." hyunseo smirked, glancing at her older sister. wonyoung rolled her eyes. "the doctors say i'll be taller than wonyoung-unnie one day."

"i can see it."

the actress glanced at wonyoung. even after everything, y/n couldn't help but notice how adorable the taller girl was.

"hyunseo, me and y/n are gonna talk, okay?" wonyoung looked at yeojin for help, the older ahn nodding and ushering hyunseo away. "i'll meet you guys out front after."

"okay."

hyunseo gave her one last hug before wonyoung moved her and y/n back into victor's hall.

y/n stared at the ice pack, the athlete leaning against the wall as it melted in her hands.

"you played well," she whispered, fiddling with her fingers.

"you say that every time." wonyoung could feel the water forming inside the bag, albeit slowly. "we lost, y'know?"

she didn't know what she was talking about anymore, but it certainly didn't feel like it was volleyball.

"i know." y/n smiled, and she felt as if this was the last time she would ever smile at wonyoung. "but that's not on you. you did your best."

her best didn't get her the girl back.

no matter how hard she tried, so many things were out of her power. she didn't have control of how people perceived her, of how people felt about her. she couldn't control her teammates' conditions, nor their injuries.

in some way or another, she was always gonna be imperfect.

"did i?"

she hoped that somewhere in the future, she could live with it.

"you did." y/n was always so sure of her. she never doubted wonyoung in the ways she doubted herself. "you did amazing. you're amazing."

the actress looked into her eyes, watching her as if she were an old video. a tape that she finally found once more after months of searching.

the air tasted bittersweet. it smelt stale, and sweat clung to both their backs like the lingering hope they both felt for the future, for them.

it was familiar, wonyoung's red sweater, y/n's loving smile.

maybe wonyoung needed a break from familiarity, too.

"y/nnie, why are you here?" her voice came out scratchy, her throat parched from both nervousness and exhaustion. "i thought you said no to us dating again."

the ice pack continued to melt, wonyoung's hand stinging so cold that it felt warm. the trophy case reflected her image, her eyes clear as they looked back at her.

her gaze moved back to y/n, tiredness tingling up her spine.

she was sure y/n could feel it too.

"i just wanted to cheer you on one more time." for the last time, they both knew. "give you ice for old times' sake."

wonyoung felt something different wash over her. it wasn't heartbreak, she had felt that before, nor was it love.

it felt like... gratitude. that wonyoung was grateful for y/n, for teaching her how love felt like. for hurting her, for loving her, for hating her.

it felt like the end.

"thank you for the ice, y/nnie." wonyoung smiled. "i'll see you around?"

"around sounds nice."

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[phagodyke]

ok moment over its all good

oh who am I fucking kidding. I'm not gonna go am I.