#I am definitely not distracting myself from actual work

[astrolynnworld]

cramps

pairing: matt x reader

summary: you’re on your period and matt does anything and everything to soothe the pain away

warnings: fluff! period cramps, romance, care, reassurance, wholesome, pet names (sweet/pretty girl)

word count: 717

i toss and turn as i feel my pre period cramps start to form

my period is not suppose to come for another 5 days but my cramps always come first, as a warning

i check raise my head to check the clock and see what time it is

“4:15 am” i see on the tv’s cable box

i lay my head back down and continue to shuffle around the bed to find a comfortable position for my cramps to relax in

“baby what’s wrong?” matt asks me with his raspy morning voice

“my period is coming soon, i feel the cramps start to overTAKE me” i say in soft annoyed tone

“is there anything i could do to help baby?” he concerns

“can you actually go get me my heating pad please?” i ask nicely

he hops out the bed and uses the flashlight off his phone to roam around the room and look for my heating pad

once he pulls it in comes back to bed, i hear him gasp

“what?” i jump in shock at his gasp

“your period.. came”

i sit up to see what he’s talking about and see a whole bloody mess stained into our bedsheets

“oh my god” i put my head in my hands out of annoyance and embarrassment

“it’s okay baby. i just need you to stand up for me okay?”

i get off the bed and start to feel the water works fall out

“don’t cry baby” matt says as he comes over to me and wraps his arms around me

“hey it’s not your fault baby” he tries to reassure

“you can’t help it.. you didn’t know, it’s completely fine. you don’t have to cry, sweet girl” he continues as he starts to play with my hair in the hug

i pull back and start to wipe my eyes as i start to sense that im being dramatic

“here baby, i need you to go wash up while i clean the bed”

i nod my head and make my way to the bathroom

“and hand me your clothes before you go in the shower please”

i do as i’m told then i head to the shower

i continue to wash up as i hear matt enter the bathroom

“hey pretty girl, everything still okay?” he asks

“yeah, i’m just finishing up” i sluggishly say

“okay baby. i changed our sheets and im washing the other ones now” he reassures

i stay silent out of acknowledgment but he doesn’t leave

“is there anything else you want princess?” he asks

“no thank you” i say while shaking my head as if he could see me

“alright..” he says before closing the door

i could tell he feels bad but i just really can’t be bothered rn. my stomach hurts, i embarrassed myself, im so annoyed, and i feel bad that he feels bad.. there’s just too much going on

i finish up my shower and put my towel on before heading back to the bedroom

when i get back i see matt had turned on the led lights, switched the tv to netflix, and had my tylenol bottle set up next to some water

“matt what is this?”

“nothing much. just me trying to distract you from your period” he giggles

“that’s not how it works sadly” i pout as i pop the tylenol in my mouth and swallow some water

“well, im gonna try” he comes in for a kiss

i start to get dressed, not forgetting the pad, as matt searches for a good movie to watch.

“do you want some to eat pretty?”

“is anything even open right now?” i genuinely ask

“only mcdonald’s..” he replies

“then yes please” i smile at him

“your usual?”

“yeah” i reply as i get in bed to snuggle next to him

“it’ll be here in 30 minutes” he says

“if we’re still up” i chuckle

“don’t worry. i’ll grab it for you so you can enjoy it when you wake up and not kill me for letting you fall asleep” he chuckles back

“thank you baby. i appreciate you so much, definitely a core memory” i turn over to face him

he smiles and places a kiss on my forehead, “i love you, sweet girl. don’t forget it”

——————————————————————-

taglist: @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333

[saerins]

ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you���ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

[thepunkmuppet]

laszlo fucking lied.

remembering for a second that season 5 takes place straight after season 4, laszlo is clearly grieving baby colin and using guillermo as a distraction. it is NOT a coincidence that in this episode colin mentioned dreaming about his time as baby colin and just happened to make a joke about dads and sons (using buzzwords like “boy” and “act” as well).

I think not being able to fix guillermo and, to a lesser extent, (from his perspective) having to kill guillermo’s “babies” sent laszlo into a downward spiral and he was genuinely semi-catatonic. he’s said and shown that he struggles with emotional stuff many times, and actually feeling those emotions and thinking those thoughts and having to actually confront them would definitely do weird things to him.

another thing we know about laszlo is that he is a really good liar. when he snapped out of it, saying “THAT’S IT!” he 1000% made up the book thing on the fly. but it worked because he was genuinely happy again! his distraction is back in business!!

I think he either figured out why guillermo is the way he is, how to turn him fully into a vampire, or how to turn him human again. and the colin robinson thing will build over the next two episodes, with the two still avoiding each other until the finale is an emotional confrontation between laszlo and colin about their time together, and nandor and guillermo about… well, you know.

anyway yeah matt berry is a fucking good actor and I know this is a comedy but that was not “figuring out how to alphabetise my books” that was “grappling with raising and losing a son who now doesn’t remember me but I have to live with him every day and also the not-coping mechanism I’ve found to distract myself from my pain has stopped working and also I am a centuries old vampire who cannot deal with crushing human emotions”. or you know something like that

[amor-ad-nauseam]

Somethin’ Stupid (pt. 2)

Pairing(s): Sam Winchester x reader

Summary :You two are pathetic for each other, so much so that Dean can’t help but take notice. Maybe, just maybe his “playing wingman” will work out alright…

Word count : 3.5k

Tags: Reader and Sam have a crush on each other, fluff, no use of y/n, reader uses she/her pronouns, carheartt!sam, heavy make out, kissing, fade to black, almost smut.

Notes; While this does read as a fade to black i may or may not have gotten a little carried away with myself and wrote part of the smut scene… it’s not included here but if y’all want that lmk!! I am so sorry about how late this is coming out! i’ve been very busy with back to school preparations. Notes and reposts are greatly appreciated

part 1 part 3

“Rise n’ shine, Sammy!” Dean announced, clapping Sam on the shoulder.

Sam flinches awake and like a row of dominos, the guitar that was in his lap is sent tumbling to the floor - creating a harsh cacophony of strings and wood.

The sound causes you to jolt from your slumber. You shoot up in bed in a flurry of confusion. “I’m up! I’m up! Where’s the Rugaru!?” You shout, whipping your head around the room.

“Woah, Good Morning to you too,” Dean chuckles, punctuating the sentence with an obnoxious bite of beef jerky. Sam makes a face. “Want some?” He points the jerky at Sam.

“Hey, Dean.” Sam sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He runs his hands down his face. "I’m good, thanks.”

You visibly relax as the real world comes into focus. “Morning, Boys.” You say as the adrenaline wears off. Sam was still across from you, now flashing an apologetic smile and Dean was well- Dean, but in a cowboy hat. That wasn’t too unusual for him. Dean nodded a hello.

“Eh, more for me,” Dean shrugs with another bite. “Anywho,” He bends down and retrieves the guitar from the floor, now with a newly popped high E string. He hoped the motel wouldn’t charge him extra for that. “When’d you become Springsteen?” He smirks.

Sam was in no mood.

Then, his eyes lit up.

“Hey, Dean, what’s that, uh, mark on your neck?” Sam said, a grin only capable of being mustered by the most annoying of little brothers appearing on his lips.

“What mar- “Dean slid his hand down the length of his neck, stopping about halfway in sudden realization. “Oh- “He clears his throat. Mumbling something about getting banged up pretty badly, he dismisses himself to the med kit in Sam’s bag.

“Oh, and that explains why you’re just now getting back at, uh,” Sam glances to the alarm clock. “7am? from a simple salt-n-burn?”

“Uh, yeah.” Dean scoffs defensively. “Cause you see, Sammy, I was actually doing my job.”

The early morning sun filtered in through the blinds and for the first time you realized that the wood paneling on the divider and both doors were made to look like a saloon door. Damn. They went all out with this whole cowboy theme. On the bright side, the sun gave everything a warm almost fiery glow. Despite the rather cozy atmosphere of the room, Sam and Dean were still going.

Only two things in life are certain: taxes and the Winchester’s arguments.

“The job that requires you to receive hickeys from girls in bars?” Sam laughed. He was now stood by the foot of your bed, stretching the tension from his shoulders. Man, even through a t-shirt his back muscles were attractive- carved like a Greek statue.

“Okay, when you say it like that it makes me sound like a hooker.”

“Maybe you are, Mr. hard worker.”

“Don’t objectify me.” Dean rolls his eyes, feigning offense . Dean was leaned over the dresser, looking in the mirror as he tried to cover a small purple mark on his neck with a square gauze patch.

He definitely wasn’t winning this one.

As if suddenly remembering something, his head perked up and he set his sights on you.

“How’s the leg?” He asked, looking at you in the mirror. He did genuinely care about your wellbeing, but it didn’t hurt that you were also a good out.

“Hm?” You were a little distracted; you’d almost forgotten about your leg entirely.

“Oh right. It’s fine really,” you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

When you look down you find the bandage that was once around your thigh, half undone, twisted about and just an overall mess.

“Right, fine.” Dean chuckles.

“Woah, you okay?” Sam questions.

Before you know it, Sam’s closing the distance between the two of you and the roll of gauze is sailing through the air from Dean’s palm to Sam’s.

“Damn, I thought you were better at the whole first-aid thing, Sammy.” Dean remarks, happy to flip the situation back on his brother.

“I am,” Sam takes a seat next to you. He’s warm. And close. Too close. “But someone.” Damn he smells good too. Like a brand-new book. “Wouldn’t let me.” He said with a teasing expression.

“Hey, I didn’t do too bad.” Your cheeks flush.

“Riiight.” He gently tugs at an end of the bandage, and it unravels like a loose thread in a pair of jeans. “Not too bad at all.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” You reply, your face contorting to an attempt at annoyance.

“Hey, cheer up.” Sam smiled.

You couldn’t help but smile in return.

He gently slid his hand to the underside of your knee and placed your leg over his lap just as he did the night prior.

While you were busy tossing the wrinkled bandage into a small barrel-shaped trashcan near the sofa-chair, Sam took the opportunity to let his gaze linger. He drank in every detail of your appearance, hoping to seer it to memory.

For some reason, 3 things in particular stuck out to him: You never bothered to put your hair up last night, the way squinted as the sun reflected directly into your eyes, and the fact that you were still in his Carhartt. That last one especially made his heart beat a little harder.

Your lovely chaotic hair and the sun shining on your face inspired countless fantasies. Some as simple as kissing the tiredness from your expression, others, he felt bad for even thinking.

The minute you turn around his eyes are once again glued to your leg and you’re none the wiser.

“How’m I lookin, doc?”

Dean with his shirt tucked beneath his chin was rubbing ointment on what he wasn’t quite sure if it was another hickey on his abdomen or an actual bruise. Upon hearing your question he perks up, ready to make a dumb Looney Toons reference when Sam of all people beats him to the punch.

“Ah, just peachy, Bugs.” He replied in a nasally imitation of Daffy Duck.

“Huh.” Dean mumbles with some small shock. He watches the two of you from the mirror's reflection. He knew Sam had a thing for you, but this, this was something else.

The way the two of you giggled and just almost leaned into each other with every joke- pulling away in shy stupidity each time you got too close. The lingering eye contact, how Sam’s hand looked almost reluctant to leave you, the way one of you would stare when the other wasn’t looking. The whole thing left his stomach feeling like a pot of warm honey.

Damn. You’ve both got it bad.

An idea.

“Hey guys,” He chimed in.

“Hm?” You and Sam said in unison.

“Oh, sorry no you go- “you said.

“No, it’s okay you- “

“Well, you did fix me up it’s only fair- “just then you realized that your leg was still in his lap. You quickly pull away and smile apologetically. Sam does the same.

Dean just about face palms. You two are hopeless.

“Guys.” Dean clears his throat, capturing both of your attentions once more.

“I'm gonna go out and uh, do something.” Dean said with heavy emphasis on “do something.”

“Oh, okay..?” you said with confusion

“Oh, uh, need help with that?” Sam added, eaqually as confused.

“No! no, sorry…heh… I just mean that you both should stay here while I go make a move.”

“You… feelin’ alright, Dean?” You question.

“He’s still hungover I think.” Sam leans in and mutters.

“Y’know,” Dean turns his attention straight to Sam. “Making a move is always the right thing.”

“…So, you do want my help?”

“No, damnit,” Dean sighs in defeat. “M’goin’ on a coffee run.”

“Oh… okay…” Sam replied. “In that case, make two of ‘em decaf.”

“Aw you remembered?” You say with an expression reminiscent of a teen girl with a crush.

“Yeah, I know how it makes you jittery.” Sam replied, sounding embarrassed.

Dean watches as the two of you sit there smiling like idiots.

Yeah.

Extra hopeless.

- -

The latter half of the day is spent with Dean acting strangely and you and Sam struggling to figure out why.

A couple of theories arose.

“Maybe he is hungover.” You quietly conceded after Dean stretched his legs across the diner’s booth seat when Sam tried to sit down- forcing him next to you.

“Nah, he’s mean when hungover.” Sam replied.

- -

“Maybe we did something?” You suggested when Dean pulled the same diner stunt later at the library.

“Like what?” Sam replied as he studied Deans relaxed demeanor.

“Dunno. Maybe it’s 'cause we bailed last night?”

“C’mon we didn’t “bail”, you got stabbed and we all know if one of us didn’t stay with you, you’d come crawling back to finish the fight.”

“Fair enough.” You shrugged. “Well, I’m fresh out of ideas.”

“Me too. Just can’t figure out what would make him not tell us details on a case, it’s not like him.”

- -

You also happened to notice that Sam grew increasingly grumpy as the day dragged on.

Whether that was due to Dean, or his uncomfortable sleeping situation last night was lost on you.

- -

“Maybe he got roofied?” Sam mumbled when it seemed as though Dean couldn’t walk in a straight line- continually bumping into you - shoving you straight into Sam.

“Can’t be, after that whole witch thing he’s really careful with his drinks.”

“Hm…”

- -

“Mid life crisis?” Sam proposes in a hushed voice from the huddled corner of a motel lobby.

Dean had bought two rooms instead of the usual one accompanied by “we’re livin’ offa credit card scams and prayers. Besides, we’ve all pretty much seen eachother’s junk anyway.”

“He’s 30” you replied while watching Dean flirt with the woman behind the counter.

“With this job and his liver, it’s midlife.”

- -

Finally, the night had rolled around.

“Been dazed and confused for so long it can’t be true~”

The radio humming as the Impala raced down the road.

Normally, nights like this would be relaxing. Windows rolled down, the sounds of the cold and buzzing night mixed with the same five albums Dean rotated. Empty back roads and the three of you endearingly out of tune as you sang along.

But this night was simply and plainly, dead.

The air in the car had a tension not even Page and Plant could cut through. You all silently sat in your unassigned-assigned seats: Dean driving, Sam shot gun and you in the back watching the night woosh by.

It all came to a head earlier when Dean notified you and Sam that you two were on stake-out duty. You watched as Sam’s expression visibly changed into one of suppressed nausea. Sure, stakeouts usually sucked ass but did the thought of being alone with you really drive him to the point of sickness?

You breathed a sigh, sinking further into your seat at the memory.

Sam steals a glance at you in the rear view- you looked sad. Guess you weren’t too excited at the thought of a stakeout either.

The car stops about 50 yards in the underbrush in front of a dilapidated old building in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.

The light previously provided to you by the stars was dimmer now due to the thick miles of pine trees stretching high above- looking as though they could touch the sky themselves.

“Aaand we’re here,” Dean said, switching off the ignition

“Mind telling us where “here” is exactly?” Sam quipped.

“Like I said, it’s a nest.”

“Yeah. That’s the problem. That’s about the only thing you’ve said.”

“Okay, fine- look, We’ve had a lot of duds lately and I didn’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up if it wasn’t the real deal.” Dean shrugs.

Dean was an incredibly good liar. Or as he liked to call it, thinking on his feet.

“Wow you are s- “

“Such a great older brother, I know. I’m gonna go walk the perimeter, shouldn’t take too lo-“

“Great I’ll come with!”

You watch as Sam quickly follows after Dean- not even letting his brother get the words out before he’s on his feet and out of the car like he’ll catch the plague if he’s alone with you.

Yeah. Stakeouts really sucked.

From inside the car all you could hear were Sam and Deans muffled voices, but even still, you could tell they were arguing…

“I’m not an idiot, Dean. I know what you’re doing.”

“Well I’d hope so,” Dean chuckled, holding his newly sharpened machete upward to inspect it. “Dad’d kill us if we ever even thought about going in dull and halfcocked.”

“Y’know you’re not the most subtle guy in the world.”

Sufficiently satisfied, Dean re-sheathes the blade and hooks it onto his waistband. “Dunno wacha talkin’ ‘bout, Sammy.”

“You forced me to sit next to her.”

“Leg got bruised las night, had to keep ‘er elevated.”

“Got two rooms?” Sam quirked a brow.

“So? What if i wanted to bring someone back?”

“Dude, you practically threw her into me.”

“Again, the leg. Can’t walk straight.” He shrugs, grabbing a vial of dead-man’s blood and putting it into his pocket.

“Alright, cut the bullshit. I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. She’s not into me and i’m-“

“A dumbass.” Dean says sharply.

“E-excuse me?” Sam says, caught off guard.

“The girl is head-over-fuckin-heels for you. you must be a dumbass not to see it.” Dean points an accusing finger at him.

“I-“

“I see the way you look at her, hell, you busted out the guitar for her! ah- don’t give me that look, it was obvious. “

“Okay, fine, you got me Dean.” Sam throws his arms up in an exasperated manner. “I have feelings for her.” He pauses. This is the first time he’s said it aloud. His eyes go to his shoes. “Doesn’t mean she feels the same way.”

“Christ.” Dean slams the trunk, shoves his hands in his pockets and walks around the side of the car. Sam gives a puzzled expression. Dean jerks his head. “Watch this,” Dean says.

With the back of his hooked middle and index finger, Dean knocks on the back window of the Impala.

“Hm?” You lift your head from the book in your lap.

It’s a quick set of movements, but obvious, unthought action: your eyes first land on the source of the sound, Dean. He waves. You smile.

Then, all in the fraction of a second you look at Sam. Your smile falters. A short, flustered breath escapes your nose.

Your eyes go back to Dean, your lips curving into a poor attempt at a casual smile.

“See?” Dean says once you turn your attention back to your book.

“See what?” Sam replies, his voice growing annoyed and incredulous- having not picked up on anything out of the ordinary.

“You really make me wanna punch you sometimes.”

“Wha-, you know what, Dean, is this case even real? Cause if it’s not let’s just go back to the motel and-“

“Okay, Okay.” Dean pushes his arms in a ‘calm down’ motion. “It’s real, Columbo. Here,” He reaches behind his back, past the sides of his coat and pulls the local newspaper from the waistband of his jeans. “Happy now?”

Sam’s eyes skim the headline: Reports of “Cult like behavior” spotted near the old McCrowe house.

Below is a photograph of the dilapidated home they were parked in front of.

“Yes, but, h-“

“How do you know it’s real? Ya don’t. But i know you couldn’t take the risk; Even if you tried.”

Sam frowns, combing a hand through his hair. Dean smiles. “Go get ‘em, tiger” Dean says, patting his brother on the shoulder.

"You're an asshole."

Dean walks away with an extra bounce in his step. Sam frowns, again.

After taking a long moment, partially to regain his bearings, partially waiting till his brother disappeared around the bend, Sam pulls open the door.

“…Hey.”

“Hey yourself.”

That wasn’t awkward at all.

Leaves crunch beneath your feet, and the book carried at your side rhythmically beats against your hip as you walk.

“So… figure out what’s up with Dean?”

“Oh, uhm,” He tosses the newspaper onto the dash as he slides into the front seat to cover his hesitation. “Nope. Not a clue.”

“Eh, I just hope he sorts himself out. If he keeps walking like that i think i’ll be bruised soon.” You chuckle at your own joke. “Guy’s got hips like Shakira, they do not lie.”

Crickets. Literal crickets fill the beat of silence after that joke.

You knew it was bad but damn.

“Ookay… tough crowd,” You mumble.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Sam said as if he were snapping out of a trance. “yeah heh, Shakira.”

You simply resign yourself to the book in your lap, every once in a while, taking a glance at the house ahead.

Meanwhile, Sam’s gaze never leaves the house for a moment. He had an expression you couldn’t quite place and an almost glazed over look in his eyes.

“Hey, i’m gonna go catch up with Dean, you’ll be fine right?” He says suddenly.

“No,” You slam your book shut and turn straight to Sam. “Sit your ass back down. we need to talk.”

“I’m sorry?”

The words come barreling from your mouth like a falling knife, sharp and unpredictable. “You have been super weird all day- I swear it’s hereditary- Dean acting strange, that i can deal with, but you? i-i don’t know what to do with that.”

A sinking sort of realization sets in. “I- god i’m so sorry.”

“I mean, did i do something? ‘Cause if i did i’m terribly sorry-“

“No, no, you didn’t do anything i swear.”

“Then what is it? i thought things were good and then- Look, if there’s something wrong just say the word and i’m there.”

“i know that but-“

“I’ll listen if you need it, i’m your friend and i wanna help.”

“That’s the problem.”

A beat of silence.

“That you’re my friend, just, my friend. That’s what’s wrong."

You feel your mouth going dry.

The words come tumbling out of Sam’s mouth much faster than he can think. “I-I knew from the moment i met you that you were this super cool and sweet and pretty but also badass at the same time kinda person and then it sorta spiraled into a crush, -which was innocent enough- so i thought it’d go away but then it didn’t and then-“

Every word, every thought, every action, everything within Sam is cut short and fades off when your lips collide with his. Your hands cup the sides of his face. His eyes widen before slowly dropping shut.

A moment later the kiss breaks and you’re sat there, staring dumbly into those gorgeous hazel eyes. From this new vantage point (the middle of the front seat) the gaps between the pines overhead is greater, allowing for starlight to filter in. The parts of his face not obscured by the shadows of his hair were illuminated in perfect detail. The soft edges of his face look almost sharp given the looming shadows, that detail though, is contrasted by the rosy blush spreading on his cheeks.

“…I wanted to shut you up,” You blink. “But I should’ve asked, i’m sor-“

The last of your attempt to apologize is muffled as Sam’s lips crash into yours.

His hand rests on the far side of your neck, his thumb moving across your cheek. The kiss grows in intensity, his tongue licking at the seam of your lips, your breath short and hot on his face. You drop your hands from his jaw and begin to slide them down his torso, eliciting a low growl-like sound from him. You both grow in fervor, the kiss bordering the fine line between sweet and desperate.

His tongue pushes past your lips and begins exploring you with warm desire. A soft sound escapes your throat at the feeling, his body growing warm, breaths shaky, and his tongue needly licking at the inside of your mouth.

Sam pulls away but only for a moment. He takes a quick survey of your face: lips red, breathing coming out in short pants, hair messy and all of you elucidated by the stars outside. You were no longer a reverie- some fantasy far out of reach. You were right there, lovely and more attention capturing than any star. So he says the thought that’s been on repeat in his mind since the moment he met you. What he’s thought on a thousand breathless afternoons when the sun shines just right on your face: “I love you”

“I love you too.” You reply without missing a single beat. you don’t have to think about it, not even for a second. You love him.

Taglist: @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @lillies444lola @wowzabowza69 comment to be added/ removed

[bunniwords]

໑ৎ ׁ ׅ♡ ALIBI 🌀

part xv - masterlist - part xvii xvi. prettiest girl

︶︶ 　 ˚ ᡴꪫ synopsis — you are known for your brain rot anime content on twitter. so much so that you caught the attention of txt’s soobin on his secret stan account and became mutuals. what will become of this new friendship?

bunni speaks — WE BACK and with partial written chapters! i'm not great at writing fluff so bare with me... also i have a bit of writer’s block… so please be kind to me… i’ve wrote this like last week but was really beating myself over it but i decided to just post it…

ONE MONTH.

just one more month before soobin was going to see you in new york. was he ready for it? not exactly. probably far from it actually, but one thing was for sure is that he wanted to see you.

there isn't really a day that goes by without him calling and messaging you. the two of you actually started this thing where you'd each send a series of random photos taken throughout the day while the other was sleeping and it’s not helping him calm down his feelings for you at all. he saved every single one of those photos and put it in an album on his phone to look back at on. he loved imagining you taking each picture with him in mind.

now, this new routine has him developing a bad habit of looking at his phone first thing in the morning. soobin knows he read some sort of article about looking at your phone first thing in the morning isn't really good for you but science didn't account for the feeling of waking up to twenty notifications from the girl you like. waking up to your messages gave soobin profound excitement for the day. his eyes could barely open but his first instinct now was to look at his phone and see what photos you took. his favorites were the ones where you'd take your outfit of the day in your full length mirror in your bedroom or maybe the ones of you posing with your food.

you’ve asked him about his great face reveal and soobin felt bad about not showing his face because you actually asked him a lot about it... to the point where you concluded that he was ugly as a joke. a joke he finds no joy in hearing as he defended his good looks to wits ends.

but you were too deep in your feelings that you were pretty sure you would be okay with however he looked.

i mean, if he was a total predator... you'd definitely reevaluate, but soo was not that. you think.

"are you working from home today?" soo asked you over the voice call.

"yup! i just made breakfast. wanna see?" you asked as you wiggled your bowl in front of the camera.

god, you were so cute.

"let's see. let's see."

"it's just cereal," you laughed, "they had the txt cereal at the store so i grabbed it for funsies since i'm seeing them next month."

"oh, right. haha."

every time txt came up in your conversation, soobin definitely started thinking about revealing the truth and the guilt that came with that. he still isn't sure how you'd react. would you feel betrayed that he didn't tell you? or would you be happy? what if you just leave the restaurant after finding out? or start blackmailing him for having a fan account?

okay, that last thought went a little wild side, because you wouldn't do that. he knows you wouldn't, but his mind definitely wondering about what you’d think about any of this. thinking about you being mad at him and leaving him was probably the worst scenario he could think of. he could already feel someone digging into his chest with a tight grip on his heart from the thought of you hating him.

"damn, okay. i know it wasn't that funny but you could've reacted a little," you joked.

"ha. ha. ha.”

" you’re so annoying…”

soobin laughed with a quick apology and lame excuse saying he was distracted.

you rolled your eyes but accepted his apology anyway. “well, how was your day? you're in japan right?"

yes, txt was doing their japanese comeback before the start of their world tour. but to you, soo was simply on a work trip.

"yeah, i am!"

"how is it?" you said before taking in a spoonful of cereal.

"busy... but fun. my team had a few work events today and i'm so tired," he said.

he was really downplaying his 'work events'. he had a group interview, magazine solo interview, a photoshoot, and to top it all off, there was the music show and fan interaction at the end of the day. he was beyond exhausted but still wanted to talk to you by the end of all of it. although, he didn’t really want to talk to you about work.

"did you want to turn in early? we can always talk in the morning for you," you offered, but you could already hear him grumbling.

"no, just another hour... i couldn’t even talk to you this morning."

oh, were you weak. you weren't going to say no. absolutely, not. you know, he didn’t say that he needed to talk to you everyday, but for him to basically imply that he couldn’t go to bed without talking to you once today almost sent you into a coma.

"oh, uh, yeah, okay, one more hour and then you go to sleep,” you stuttered, thinking you really played that one off.

"right before i forget… japan. did you want anything from here?"

and immediately, your ears perked up.

"oh, yes if i can ask you to look for a few things! i have a list," you bursted out into a fit of giggles from the thought of you being able to get your hands onto anything you got on this anime list.

"you... have a list?" he sounded as if he was judging you.

"hey... it's not as accessible here in america," you pouted, "leave me alone. you want my list or not?"

"give me the list," soobin smiled and you could hear the endearment in his voice.

"also, with all due respect, shut up. i know you got a list. you just wanted to judge me," you fussed.

"hey! that's not true!"

it most definitely was true (to both him having a list and him judging you).

that's alright though because while you were forging your annoyance, you were trying to calm your heart down from imagining this man scouring through the streets of tokyo in search for your most wanted anime merchandise.

TAG LIST: @hoonatic @paegesoobin @lun4kazumii @noraimp @isa942572 @yourenzoo @soobjvn @besciitos @sakiimeo @kumabeom @yyeonzi @bunnisoobin @girlz4jaem @msorriluv @wonderstrucktae @thing89 @dreeener @arep4con-qu3sp @otblous @luvvvash @huethusiasm @starryeyedluv @304files @kang-ulzzang @thisrandombitch @nocturnal-lanturn @bbeomgyucafe @virgo-and-libra @mumeimei @jinostooth @gy0th-yawnzzn @pinkhor1zon @film-sea @daechwitonguetech @jakesbubu @pagetammgyu @hanniemylovelyquokka @s0urcherry @bee-the-loser @sol3chu

[agirlwithglam]

hard work? at least put in the work!

as my mom once said to me:

"forget hard work! at least do work"

please, for some of us, talking about "hard work" is far away for us. so forget about working hard. what about just working? not working hard, just doing at least something for your future, yourself, your family. or are you okay with being a huge disappointment to others and yourself?

just doing the bare minimum at least for yourself! you don't have to go over the top or make it so hard for you. at least put in the bare minimum so you don't have to live the worst life. okay?

doing at least 5 pushups + 5 squats a day

studying a bit for exams

saying one affirmation of self-love a day

if someone talks to you, don't try to run away from the convo.

all this isn't hard. its just what every human being should be able to you (not talking about anyone with disabilities, thats a different case). okay?

the first step to this would be to reduce the amount of screentime everyday. i don't care if its "educational" or "self improvement", thats all bs. whats actually gonna make a difference is that instead of tricking your brain into thinking you're doing something or telling yourself "i'll work my hardest tomorrow", you don't work your hardest today but you work.

putting in little effort is still putting in effort.

i know that a lot of you are gonna be like "no but i believe in myself that i can put hard work into something i care about!" so okay. good job for believing in yourself, love that. but... are you actually gonna do it? or are you going to continue to sit and watch "educational" "self improvement" videos because it distracts and tricks you into thinking that this is hard work?*

*don't get me wrong, of course if you used to be a person who scrolled a bunch of nonsense, the first step would of course be to change what you consume into something better. but there comes a limit where you have to actually get up and put in the work. simply changing what you consume isn't all you need to do. theres more steps to improving your life. just like when you start with a new skill; in the beginning you may start with something very simple and easy for you to do. but once that becomes your "comfort zone" (as in very/ much easy to do), you need to move to something that challenges you more. otherwise, you never grow.

sure, believing that you are capable of doing it is certainly the first step of almost anything, but believing isn't just enough. you gotta actually do it. you don't earn my respect by "believing you can do it" (what are you, a toddler?) but by actually executing your plan. and for most of us, it turns out that our definition of "hard work" is actually just watching "self improvement" all day.

so what am i implying here? :

if you believe you can actually do the hard work, then do it. do not waste another second on self improvement videos (remember; those are just meant as a guide, a starter. a place for advice). if however, you find that you finally realise that hard work isnt just watching self improvement videos and having to actually do something, then shut up with the hard work. at least do work.

xoxo, vanilla.

[sorryimdyingrn]

SCAREDY CAT (Severus Snape x FEM! Reader)

Summary: Y/N, Snape's assistant in class is easily scared and tends to overreact when someone creeps up onto her. What's going to happen when Snape decides to do so?

Warnings: Smut, improper use of the Incarcerous spell, Sub Snape, Dom Reader, handjobs, FEM! Reader, idk what else to put there, Idk probably incoherent English in some places.

Oh man I really am doing that. For the last few months I have been bringing myself to this moment trying to put some words together but this is the first time I'm actually succeeding in doing so! I hope you won't cringe to death and excuse my poor English as it's not my first language ❤️

A normal work day. Nothing out of ordinary and nothing signaling the things that were about to happen. The students were acting like students, other Professors doing their job sometimes stopping in their busy tracks to say Good morning and Snape shooting her those weird looks. They weren't hate by any means. They were more like... Fondness??? Who knows. No one really saw Snape looking at someone with fondness so no one could tell.

Y/N calmly stood by one of many desks in classroom, cutting up some Boomslang's skin to fill up a jar in Snape's storage after someone stole it. The swift movements of her wand made a quiet swish, leaving the ingredient cut into perfect strips easily fitting into the jar.

The scene was peaceful, no one to interrupt, no one to say anything and definitely no one to look at the way her hands moved like Snape liked to do while she was doing her job.

Severus Snape... Y/N's thoughts drifted to the dark and broody Potions Master. His cold aura was intimidating and she couldn't lie - if definitely turned her on a bit. Sometimes she liked to imagine how his elegant hands would feel like against her skin, his lips against hers, his dick in her hands as he looked up at her with pleasures in his eyes and him whimpering out her name with-

Y/N shook her head to get rid of the dirty thoughts clouding her mind. The last thing she needed was being horny and distracted right now. She sighed softly and went back to her work.

Snape stood silently in the doorframe, looking at his assistant with a softer gaze. As much as he would rather gnaw his own leg off than admit this, he liked her. He liked her a lot. Her happily glimmering eyes, her soft smile, her figure that he wished to see without clothes... And her voice... Oh her sweet voice that he imagined every night moaning his name and telling him how good he was for her when he palmed his painfully hard erection through his trousers crying out loudly...

An idea popped into his head. A devilish and seemingly at the moment perfect idea. It wasn't unknown that Y/N had a tendency of getting scared at the slightest things and her reactions were quite entertaining. A slight, almost unnoticeable smirk pulled at his lips as he silently closed the door and creeped up behind her. She still stood there unaware of what was about to happen. So happy... So innocent...

Snape raised up his hand slowly and gave her a gentle jab to her side.

Y/N jumped up with a loud shriek.

"SON OF A BITC-"

Without looking at her attacker, she swished her wand aggressively in the air. A black rope shooting out of the air tying Snape up in a rather questionable position, his hand flying out of his sleeve, now laying around a meter away from him. He was on his knees, his hands tied back to his ankles tightly, not allowing him to get up. Well that wasn't the outcome he expected.

Y/N looked down at him annoyed, right now not caring about the situation he was in.

"Not cool man. Not cool. You know I have a weak heart." She said while shaking her head disappointed.

The way she looked down at him sternly... Fuck, the way she stood over him in such a towering and dominating manner while he was on the floor kneeling... Snape shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he did...

He sighed defeated, trying to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts clouding his mind. Why was he into this?

"Yes, yes. That was uncalled for I know." He admitted his fault, shifting slightly with annoyance. "Can you let me go now? It's rather provocative position I'm in." He looked up at her, trying to look stern and cold the best he could.

She just then noticed his position, her eyes taking in his rather embarrassing state. Her finger went up to her chin in a thinking manner.

"Hmmm... No." Y/N replied bluntly and walked up to the door to lock it. "You scared me without thinking about the consequences of your actions, now you have to be punished."

The last sentence made Snape's mind fill up with very VERY inappropriate things. His position, her stern demeanor, locked doors, her talking about a punishment... It all made his thoughts go to a very dirty place, sending a jolt to his already hardening length.

He had to suppress a whimper when he saw her walking back up to the desk to resume her work. His face was on the perfect height to see her ass and thighs in the complete display. The sight making his cock twitch in the confines of his pants that felt wayyyy to tight right now. His eyes were glued to her backside with a needy look. Oh what he would give to touch her beautiful curve right now...

"Please..." He muttered under his breath, knowing that if he would say it louder, his voice would sound desperate and whiny.

Y/N sighed annoyed, her back still turned to him as she moved to bottling other ingredients.

"Can't hear ya. Speak louder if you want me to actually listen." She replied, still not happy about his little prank.

The feeling of his erection was now becoming slightly painful. He felt a bead of precum dampening the material of his boxers. His breath was heavy as he futily tried to control his arousal.

"Please Y/N..." Snape spoke up louder, his voice came out as a high whimper (just like he expected)

Feeling a rush of arousal through her core, Y/N turned around quickly to look down at him. She noticed his dick straining against his pants and her eyes widened.

His face grew panicked and lustful as he noticed her staring at the tent in his pants *Shit... She'll think that I'm a creep! She'll be disgusted by me and I will never-*

His train of thoughts was stopped as he loudly cried out involuntarily. She gently pressed her shoe to his cock, massaging it lightly

"Aaah! Please!" his head rolled back and hips bucked up to the contact, relishing in even the slightest touch to relieve his hard-on.

Y/N smirked and crouched down to his level. She grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking it slightly so she could see his flushed face.

"You're enjoying this? You enjoy being tied down and being punished like this?" her voice was amused and lustful as she took in Snape's heavy breathing.

Snape nodded his head eagerly, as much as her hold on his hair allowed.

"Mhm! Yes! Yes please I need- AH! MMMHH~

Y/N cut him off as she started to firmly palm his cock through the material. His hips were bucking up to the contact. Whines and moans were falling out of his open lips as he withered slightly under her touch, ropes restraining his movements a lot.

That moment was better than the things he imagined. How could he go go back to his own hand after feeling this? After feeling her?

She ran her thumb over his clothed tip, earning a shudder and a gasp from him.

"Fuck... You're sublime like this Severus... Those sounds you make are like heaven itself..." She whispered into his ear, leaving a kiss right under it.

He whimpered pathetically in response.

"Stop... Stop teasing..."

Y/N obliged immediately, almost attacking the zipper of his pants. After almost ripping his pants open she took his length out.

Snape hissed at the cold dungeon air against his sensitive dick. It was standing rigidly up, the tip already flushed red and leaking precum steadily.

Without hesitation Y/N took his length into her tight fist, waking him, hard.

Snape tried biting back the whines and moans of pleasure, failing miserably. He was writhing and bucking his hips up desperately, seeking more friction.

The sight was incredible. His cold and stern expression contorted into a face of pure pleasure. His mouth was open, gasping loudly and his eyes were rolling into the back of his skull with tears almost tricking down his cheeks.

"Please! Please Y/N I'm so sensitiv- Ahh~"

His orgasm was approaching quickly. His cock started twitching and his moans gained in volume. If she didn't stop he would-

"Are you going to cum? Are going to make a mess for me?" Y/N whispered into his ear before attacking his neck with kisses and gentle bites.

The only thing Snape could do was whine loudly and nod eagerly. His thighs started trembling, the uncomfortable coldness of stone floor long forgotten.

"Fuck... Come for me Severus... Come and look into my eyes... I want your fave to be engraved into my memory... I want to remember every single sound you let out as I make a fucking mess out of you..."

The pure filth that left her mouth spurred him on even more. She was still holding his hair tightly, her eyes now glued to his face.

Before he could warn her, the white hot pleasure took over his body with strings of his seed shooting over her hand and their clothes. He cried her name out and arched his back almost into a 90° angle (he might be almost 40 but that flexibility is still on POINT✨).

His head fell forward onto her shoulder as he panted loudly, trying to calm himself down.

With a swish of Y/N's wand, they bother were cleaned up as she tucked his softening length back into his pants almost lovingly. The hand gripping his raven locks now eased up and was gently running through his hair in a soothing manner.

"You can scare me every day if that's how it's going to end up every time" Y/N chuckled, getting rid of the binds on his body.

Snape only could quietly groan tired in response.

Hi! I have a feeling that was one of the most pathetic smuts that exist on this platform, although it just might be my opinion because I wrote it. If you have any feedback or tips then I'm more than happy to hear about them! I once again apologize for incoherent English. I hope that it's not actually as bad as it's in my eyes and that someone might actually enjoy this!

Now goodnight ❤️

[bagopucks]

A. Matthews - Father’s Day

✄————————————

Auston Matthews x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): mention’s of sex

Bear with me. This is a recovery fic lol. I have so much medicine in my system it’s amusing 😭

—————————————

“Ohh you’ll never guess what I did today!”

Auston and I could barely contain our smiles in the front seat of his car, glancing at each other while Hudson kicked his feet and giggled in the back. It was no special occasion, but for a single mother one special day in June was like a national holiday after finding a man. Especially a few weeks after he finally proposed. Auston and I had spent our day naked in bed, passionate and loving, laughing and joyous. We needed it, quite honestly. And it felt good to know Auston felt appreciated and happy on such a day. After all the hard work he put in, and the amount of time he spent with Hudson when the summer began, I didn’t take no for an answer when he said he didn’t want to celebrate Father’s Day.

“What did you do today, Hudsy?” Auston asked curiously.

“I can’t tell you! It ruins the surprise!” Hudson’s complaint made us both snicker.

With school out, and myself still working, Auston was usually on Hudson duty from day to day. When he brought up the idea of Hudson attending a summer day camp three days a week, we discussed it for a while before bringing it up to the kid. He seemed completely on board with a little encouragement, and we definitely couldn’t have made a better decision. His days were only four hours long, so we still had an abundance of time with him, and it also gave Auston a break when he needed it, and time for us to spend alone on my days off.

“So there’s a surprise?” I asked, glancing toward the road as Auston drove us back to my place. I had a hunch as to what kind of surprise it was, but I kept it to myself.

“Yes! I have the biggest surprise!”

“It wouldn’t happen to be in the bag, would it?” Auston asked, peeking in the rear view mirror at the brown paper bag Hudson held.

“Don’t look, dude!”

Auston was still patiently waiting for ‘dude’ to turn to ‘dad.’ He and Hudson had a few conversations discussing the fact that he would be Hudson’s dad, but Hudson had yet to actually call him anything but Auston.

“Well when can we see it?” Auston laughed.

“When I’m ready.”

And sure enough, Hudson took his sweet old time. Once we got home, he bounced off to his bedroom while I got started on dinner. Auston joined me to help, but he was more or less a distraction. After I had placed the lasagna in the oven, I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around his shoulders and smile.

“Happy Father’s Day.” I whispered between chaste kisses. Auston pressed my back gently against the countertop. I giggled.

“That still sounds weird.” Auston spoke quietly in return.

“Don’t tell Hudson it sounds weird when he decides to start calling you dad.” I advised playfully. Auston pressed another kiss to my lips.

“You know I won’t.” He smirked, his hands traveling to my hips. “You wouldn’t happen to know when that’s coming, would you?”

“That kid is unpredictable. Just be patient, Aus. He loves you. Baby steps.”

“Right.” Auston sighed quietly.

“Right, what?” I was swift to pick up on his mood change.

“Right, nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Auston flashed me a feigned smile and pressed a kiss to my head.

“Auston.” I was quick to scold, watching as his eyes fell to the floor in consideration.

“I don’t know, it’s just-“ I pulled away to open the fridge. “I see all my friends with kids and.. they get called dad all the time and.. I don’t know.”

“Makes you a little jealous?”

“Sad, actually.”

I turned back to him, raising a brow.

“I do everything they do. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Auston.” I smiled, in both understanding and reassurance. Every parent questioned their methods, he was no exception. “You’re not doing anything wrong. Look at it from his perspective. Hudson never knew his first dad. He’s never had a guy to call dad. Or a father figure. And now he has a man in his life who takes care of him and his mom. His first proper example of a father. He’s still understanding that this is what a father is.” I reached out to cup his cheek. “You are his dad, I have no doubt about it. Just give it time.” I flashed him a quick smile.

“Baby steps.” Auston repeated my previous words.

“Baby steps.” I affirmed, leaning in once again to kiss him. Auston managed a smile against my lips. When I pulled back, I spotted a little figure in the doorway, startling me.

“Go ahead.” Hudson waved us on, carrying the little paper bag to the table and climbing up into his seat. Auston and I both smiled as we watched him, turning to keep our eyes on the boy as he got situated.

“Do we get to see this surprise now?” Auston asked, suspicious and excited.

“In a few minutes.”

“Damn.” Auston muttered, and I was swift to backhand his arm.

“You know better.” I scolded softly.

“Auston you shouldn’t curse.” Hudson piped up, and I had to stifle a laugh as Auston looked wide eyed at my child.

“Hudson,” I scolded. Despite the situation being amusing, I still had the motherly role to play. “You shouldn’t tell Auston what to do.”

“But you say it’s bad.” Hudson defended himself.

“For grownups it’s a little different.” I tried to reason, but sometimes a simple, ‘because I said so’ was easier to say.

“I guess so.” Hudson shrugged, lifting his eyes to peek at Auston. “Okay.” He breathed out a sigh, placing his hands dramatically on the table. “It’s surprise time.”

“Finally?” Auston smirked, quickly leaving the kitchen to join Hudson at the table.

“Is it for both of us?” I questioned.

“No… sorry mom. It’s just for Auston.”

I glanced at Auston to see the cheeky smirk on his lips, and I rolled my eyes.

“Today at day camp. The girl asked the kids if they celebrated Father’s Day. And a lot of them raised their hands.” Hudson peeked down at the table. “I didn’t.. and later she asked me why. And I told her ‘cause I didn’t have a dad before. And she said that’s okay. That sometimes it’s okay to celebrate your pap or great grandpap.. or nobody at all, and I told her that there was this one guy.”

I folded my arms across my chest and watched as Hudson drew shapes into the wooden table with his finger.

“I told her that he takes care of me when I’m sick. And that he tells me he loves me before he drops me off.. that he sings for me sometimes even if he sucks at singing.. and that he’s marrying my mom.” I considered grabbing my phone to film, but I wanted to live in this moment while it happened.

“Yeah?” Auston prompted him on. “He sounds pretty cool.” I immediately rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, he is pretty cool.” Hudson nodded in response, barely registering the joke Auston had made. “The girl said, that sounds an awful lot like a dad to me.. and then she helped me make this thingy.” Hudson finally opened the brown bag, rummaging through it until he snatched up the item inside.

“It’s not a lot.. but I wanted to celebrate Father’s Day with you.” Hudson’s cheeks turned red as he set his hands on the table and presented a little threaded bracelet. “It says dad.” He explained, and I could only assume there were beads on the one side I couldn’t see. I clasped a hand over my mouth, watching as Auston’s lips turned upward into a huge smile.

“Hudson.” Auston reached out to take the bracelet. “This is awesome, Buddy!” I could barely contain my smile at the sight of tears in Auston’s eyes. I would have loved to butt in, but it wasn’t my moment to share.

“I’m really, really happy you stayed.” Hudson watched Auston slip the bracelet on. “And I’m happy you’re marrying my momma.”

“Well ya know what, bud?” Auston leaned forward to ruffled Hudson’s hair. “I’m happy I’m gonna have the coolest and best kid in the whole universe.”

“I’ll be- technically your step kid though.. right?” My brow shot up in surprise.

“Nope.” Auston shook his head. “You’re just my kid. My son. No steps, no anything. You’re my son.”

“And you’re my dad?”

“Hell yeah, I’m your dad.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[when-november-ends]

witchcraft things

that didn't work for me

and why

- kitchen witchcraft

i love cooking and i love working with plants, however incorporating spells into my food didn't work for me. i got way too distracted by the spell part, that i completely forgot to make the food taste good. and as much as i love magic, it took the fun out of cooking for me. because now, cooking wasn't something fun where i could experiment with flavors and textures, it was something i had to put thought into beforehand. and i like to be spontaneous with my cooking.

- protection spells

protection spells seem to be the most important part of the witchcraft community. and i do think it's important to know how protection magic works, but it's also very unnecessary to have protections up 24/7 if you're not famous or have many enemies. i tend to forget about my protection spells, so they just sit on my altar, untouched for months and i forget to make new ones. hasn't hurt me so far tho, so i'll be saving those up for when and if i actually need them.

- casting a circle

not gonna lie, i tried that once and never again. it felt so pretentious to me.. like i was in Chilling Adventures of Sabrina. and not in a good way. i stumbled across that practice on witchtok first, that was when i thought i was wrong for practicing my way and not how other people said i should. i don't think casting a circle is a bad thing to do, but it absolutely is a bad thing to do for me.

- bowl spells

bowl spells are one of my favorite kinds of spells because they're interactive. you put things in, you take things out. the energy doesn't feel stagnant and the spell is always working it's magic as long as you interact with it. ....but unfortunately my adhd made it very clear to me that those kinds of spells aren't something that works for me. i forget about them 5 minutes after i made them and they never get interacted with, so they don't do much of what they're supposed to. i would definitely recommend them to people who remember to take out and put in stuff tho, because the concept is great.

- scrying

gods, did i want that to work. divination is my favorite kind of witchcraft and i'm great at it! so when i learned about scrying, it was something i immediately got interested in and tried. i tried fire and water. fire worked a bit better, because the flames are dancing and water is reflective. that meant for me, i was always seeing things in it that were physically there, and couldn't concentrate on the scrying part. honestly i don't really remember why the fire method didn't work out, but i assume i got distracted really fast or lost in my thoughts.

- veiling

veiling can be done for many reasons. mine was, that i wanted to use it as a way to protect myself from all the different types of energy in public places. every person has their own life, with their own problems and their own current state of being. and since i have social anxiety, i thought veiling would be worth a try so that public places perhaps wouldn't get overwhelming as fast. well, that backfired because before i could try it, i realized i was trans and the head covering made me feel very dysphoric when i put it on at home. i never attempted anything similar again after that.

- ancestor work

i lost someone really close to me in early 2020. she wasn't a blood relative, but she was my dad's best friend, our landlord (who lived in the same house as we did by the way) and she saw me grow up since i was a baby. i was so desperate to try and talk to her. i tried to reach her myself, i asked other witches for help, but it never worked. after a while i decided to let her be, because the constant getting my hopes up and then being disappointed didn't help my mental health. i just wanted to know if she was okay now, but i think i just have to trust that she is. as for my other ancestors, i don't know anything about them and i am not really interested in finding out. i wasn't close with any of my great grandparents because we saw each other about once a year until they died. they didn't do anything wrong, but i don't want to force a connection.

- dragon work

damn. i really love dragons. all my life and with all my heart. and i truly believe that they are out there (not physically, like dinosaurs were, but in a similar way the gods are out there). i've done a lot of research on the topic, but my mental health got in the way. i don't have the concentration to reach out to them, nor will i be able to dedicate a specific amount of time to them regularly, which i feel like they won't like. i will try again when and if i get better, but until then it goes on this list of witchcraft things that didn't work for me and why.

[nights-at-crystarium]

on authenticity

My mood in the recent months keeps going from bad to worse. Today I randomly fell into the rabbit hole of checking out other patreon artists, which always grounds me in reality and cheers me up, perhaps in a weird way. Essay incoming \o/

Authenticity is a blob of a word that sounds almost pretentious nowadays. It gets sneered at. You either sell your soul, or you don't earn with your art.

What's authentic, being true to yourself, will vary from person to person. It's like a sliding scale of suffering that you will tolerate in exchange for a coin, while convincing yourself that you have fun.

The harsh truth of modern world is that if your art pays for your living, you've already reached success, no matter how you may feel about the type of content you actually make for that money. Insert the meme furry nsfw art here. Or not furry. Or even sfw, but comms, lots of comms every month. Or merch. Anything that sells. Products first, art second.

Marrying passion and profession is virtually impossible, yet I'm doing it, only thanks to your support. I'm acutely aware that, even as I choose to be "real" and talk about an artist's money-making in a raw way, it's still patreon talk, and yes, I'll plug the link as well, so technically this entire post is an ad *fingerguns*

I just feel so privileged being able to create whatever the fuck I want, literally, I take no comms/requests/guidance on what and how should I draw/write, I post experimental, sometimes provocative stuff, and still make enough to survive. This sole fact should get me through the day, whatever other struggles I may be facing currently (I am. I don't wanna talk about it rn, instead I distract myself with this text), I should always remember the unique place in life I managed to carve for myself.

There are madmen (gender-neutral) who toss $10-20 at me every month. The majority "only" pledges $1, the notorious tier that gets treated as a tip jar with no rewards by many other creators. All of my rewards are the same at $1 and $20 (save for the one-time digital artbook download at $10, just to be perfectly clear), it's a conscious choice and a risk I continue taking because it's how I am. I used to split rewards between tiers in the past, before xiv, and it was a lot of busy work while it made me treat my art less as art and more as product. This pic goes into the cheap box, this pic goes into the expensive box. Every month. It's. Definitely not for every artist.

Logistic hell of splitting and delivering rewards, different posts with less comments per post, also my discord roles/channels would have to be split, nowadays it's just patron, whether you give me $1 or $20, there's no visual disparity, you're hanging out in the same cool kids' club, and collectively making happy noises on Fragments Fridays.

Could I be making more money if I got rid of the $1 tier? Yeah. But, mercifully, after 2 years I don't need to. I legit make enough currently, my only worry is to keep what I have. Patrons don't stay forever, 2-5 people would leave every month, about the same number would join (hence my patreon ads, I need to keep people reminded of it, even if it makes me feel guilty every damn time). I did Research (tm) in the past to find out that my "bleeding" numbers are below average, i.e. it's good, people generally tend to stick around.

I put a lot of emphasis on the $1 because I'm kinda proud of what I managed to accomplish while staying self-detrimentally humble. Literally doing an impossible thing in a world that keeps burning down. So yeah if you've been feeling bad for only giving me $1, what matters is that there's enough $1s to make a difference. Together you're creating a phenomenon, and you should be proud.

There are many stupid little principles, hills that I'll die on, that make up my authenticity. I chose to speak of it here and now in order to sorta sell myself, so it feels hypocritical x'D But if I don't shine a spotlight on this, who will. I'm old and jaded and increasingly terrified of how insincere the internet's becoming. Everything's fake, sugarcoated, polished for sale. My art's always been a scream of defiance against all that, now that I'm more or less established, I wanna scream louder. Thanks for hearing my screams. You can scream with me too if you want.

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

Since Viv still somehow cannot decide on what Angel overdosed on. I am taking my liberties and doing it my goddamn self. I will also be formatting this into a summary of what I think a good small backstory scene could be like while also giving Angel a safespace and bonding experience.

It’s in the tags but WARNING there is discussion of drug abuse and overdosing in this summary.

Urg, okay, Vague but also kind of not vague angel backstory stuff because ig viv cant make up her mind on her own OCs backstory

Angel is lying in bed with Husk sitting at the edge as per usual, and Angel starts talking about a few mild personal things (mental struggles, work, general issues, etc) and Husk suggests taking something mild to help him relax and sleep so he gets up and gets him a few pills and puts them in Angel’s hand; says its Benadryl just to help him sleep a bit, but notices quickly that Angel is suspiciously reluctant to take or even look at the pills. Obviously, he asks what's up and is met with the answer of, “Nothin’ I just don’t… use that stuff.” It piques Husk’s interest, and asks if it doesn’t work for Angel, who responds with, “It definitely works.” but ultimately, Husk decides not to pry; however, he lets Angel know he’s open to listen if it’s something he feels like he wants to talk about.

Angel, being weirdly stubborn but also becoming a bit more open with Husk by this time, takes a few minutes to actually say something but eventually informs Husk that it was something he used to try and get high off and had some really good and really bad trips with, but it was the drug that ultimately led to him suffering an overdose and never waking up after it. Both of them are quiet for a bit until Husk gets up and searches for something else to help Angel sleep and, once again, places a few small pills in his hand and says he can try these, but if not, he can try something else without pills. Angel is still reluctant but ends up accepting the offer and proceeds to carefully assort the pills into little categories, saying it’s something he ‘needs to do’. Husk doesn’t push further than that and watches Angel take the pills before the other lays down again.

Things once again go silent for a good ten or so minutes until Husk notices Angel uncomfortably folding his hands over his stomach but mentions that pills always make him feel queasy to an extent and that he only takes them with other people around so he’s distracted from the discomfort they give him. In an attempt to calm Angel’s apparent nerves on the topic, he decides to sit with the other until Angel falls asleep. Eventually, Husk follows suit, with both of them waking up the next morning and Angel giving a relieved and grateful, albeit shaky, sigh. The next morning consists of Angel thanking Husk but ends with the two coming to an agreement that next time Angel can't sleep, a liquid medication approach would be better.

I don’t know if I’ll ever do a full fledged writing of this, but the concept of triggers is something I’ve personally yet to see stated in Hazbin Hotel. This would be a good way to discuss clear lingering trauma Angel has while still treating it with the gentleness the character needs and severity the topic needs. Benadryl was also just becoming a thing around the 1940’s so it makes sense for this to be something Angel very likely could’ve overdosed on. The topic of common triggers is something interesting too; I’ve seen that in other media obviously but even though I know we won’t get it, it’d be nice to see the caution around said trigger and very slowly seeing the character become more open to it if it is a common thing like this. Not everyone will get over triggers and I myself also used to have a strained relationship with a certain pill like this, but there is always the chance that you will be able to use it somewhat normally again.

If this were to happen I’d be fine with it if Angel never got over the discomfort of pills, but much later on in the series if we saw him take some kind of antihistamine casually and comfortably it’d be really nice to see that kind of growth. And as for Husk, I’d like to see him be less shame-y with Angel’s struggles like he was in Episode 6. Since we’ve basically lost Cherri Bomb as his safespace from external stressors, I really think Angel will benefit from an actually deeply caring friend, especially one that doesn’t overstep his boundaries and doesn’t encourage self destructive behaviour. The same goes for Angel by the way, I’m really pissed that they didn’t have Angel apologise for harassing Husk and everyone else. It really is not that hard to at least try to have him feel sorry about that sort of thing. Fuck, here’s something I wrote in like 20 minutes.

——————

It’d be really nice to have someone to talk to, honestly, even though he didn’t speak to Husk very much at all prior to this; he was looking forward to it a little more now. Coming home… er… coming back to the hotel after work and chatting casually at a bar was just… something about it sounded so… calm. Sure, he could go to a random bar and flirt with some rando, but talking with an actual acquaintance while having a few drinks seemed so freeing. Not having to worry about someone staring at him from across the room and getting approached about some kind of ‘offer’ outside.

God, he fucking hated that... “Fuck…” Soft smile melding into a grimace, Angel began to chew slower and slower until he eventually stopped altogether and harshly swallowed. He’d probably been making Husk feel gross like that for ages now. Obviously, he’d seen the disgruntled faces he’d get in return for flirting, but he’d never actually thought about it like that until now. He couldn’t even say, ‘for some reason, it made him feel gross’; he knew exactly why; coming to terms with that, on the other hand, was a lot more uncomfortable than he’d imagined. “Hey, uh… Not to damper the mood, but… I…”His chest puffed as he took a deep breath, and each word pulled Angel to avert his gaze further from his food and the cat sitting across from him. “I was gonna say… I’m sorry for bein’ weird and touchin’ your face yesterday…” As he spoke up, his voice lightly cracked near the end of his sentence. “And when we were filmin’ the hotel commercial… And every time I’ve put my legs on ya lap… And any otha time I did somethin’ like that.”

——————

I haven’t even finished this writing yet (I’ll likely add the rest when I do finish it) but you can see that it genuinely is not that hard to fit in an apology.

Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed my little Angel Dust ideas. Be prepared for more eventually

[shurisbathwater]

𝖥𝖤𝖤𝖫 𝖬𝖤 𝖨𝖨 . ☆

❝ 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗌𝗁𝗎𝗋𝗂. ❞

Toxic!shuri x black fem! Reader

W a r n i n g s

smut

X t r a s

Filler again as I work on sum

T a g s :

@letitias-fav

-𝐘𝐎𝐔 called Shuri for the millionth time, just for no answer back. You knew she was seeing it all as she declined most of them. After you guys made up last time, she would only come home when once every two weeks or so. It was draining for you, but you also knew that she was getting her pleasure somewhere else though she claimed she ended it. You just missed your lover.

You knew that Shuri can be a compulsive liar even when she was in the wrong. You looked at the lunch you got for her sitting on the kitchen island. You pick it up and grab your car keys. You unlock your door and head to the parking garage.

"Griot, text shuri please." You commanded the ai. "Of course y/n." The robot replied.

You

I picked up some lunch, im otw

Shuri

No need

I'm not hungry

You

I'm already on the way

Shuri

Then turn around tf?

I dont need any distractions rn.

Yeah, she was definitely hiding something. What's going on? Instead of turning around, you continue to drive to the laboratory.

You turned up there in less than ten minutes. You open the car and ask Griot to lock it. It does what its told and you enter the big area.

You took the escalator up to her lab and walked up to the big glass doors. You open the door and look around for Shuri.

There she was, Shuri was at her desk probably writing a formula and something. "Hey." You take a seat at the other side of the desk.

She looks up from her paper and gives you a dirty look. "What did I tell you about coming at unwanted times?" She rolls her eyes as she said it. "I know but..I just missed you." You pouted. She sighs and her opens her mouth to reply- but before she could say anything her phone started ringing.

The contact name was 'Lab partner' . Shuri doesn't have a lab partner, she always likes to work independently. "You never told me about a lab partner?" You furrow your brows. "Dont worry about it." She says as she flips the phone over to its backside. "Pick up the phone? If its your lab partner." You look her dead in the eye.

"Pick up the phone shuri."

She looked away, irritated. "I said don't worry about it." She replies. "I'll be home early." She says , trying to change the subject .

"Mmh." You mumble as you get up from her seat. You leave the lunch on the table and make your way out of here.

Somethings up.

And you need to figure out what it is.

ᘛ ᘚ

-𝐘𝐎𝐔 watched your phone that was charging on the night stand, contemplating if you should just call or maybe she was being truthful. It was about to go to midnight, and yet you were up waiting for her. You put your hands in your lap for a second, until you realised you couldn't have self control this one time.

You called again.

And again.

You sigh out of frustration as you call one more time. Third times a charm, right? True- because she answered this time. "I thought you were coming home early." You speak into the phone.

"I am. Gimme like an hour." She grunts. "I cant take it baby." Someone moaned in the background. Your eyes widen as you decline the call out of shock and blink back tears. Here she was, lying to you again and again. But the funny thing is that she knows you'll come back every single time. You called Your friend Riri and she answered in less than a second.

"Do you mind if I come over, Riri?" Your voice cracks.

"Are you okay love? Of course you can come."

You get up from your bed and rushed out of your bedroom. You grabbed your car keys and headed out again.

Once you reached Riri's apartment, you knocked on the door softly. She answers the door quickly. You bite your lip as she looks at you with sad eyes. "Cmere." She puts her arm around you and walks you to the living room.

"And then she..she told me it was over and I actually believed her. I cant believe id let myself be so gullible, Riri." Your voice trembled. You put your head on her shoulder and she wraps her arm around you.

To be honest, you and Riri had a friends with benefits situation. You both wanted eachother but she respected you and Shuris relationship.

She looks at you with sad eyes.

"I'm going to do something i regret, but I dont care." Her brown eyes darken.

ᘛ ᘚ

"Shit, Riri." You breathed out as she gave you sloppy kisses on your jaw, all the way down to your collarbone. She opened your legs and started to rub the spot between your legs. You gasped out of pleasure."Please, Riri." You moaned. Suddenly your phone started to vibrate, and to your surprise it was Shuri.

"Answer." She commands as you grab your phone and answer.

"Where are you?" She asked. "I'm.." you bite your tongue to stiffle your moans. "What?" Riri starts to slip off your sweat pants slowly.

"I'll be home soon." You managed to get the sentence out.

A/n: ntm on the smut ik its ....Chile anyway hope u enjoyed!

[babytarttdoodoo]

Jamie’s afraid of making a big deal out of being hurt after everything that happened in season 1 - he doesn’t want everyone to think he’s being a prick again. But then one day either in season 2 or 3 he actually is genuinely hurt badly (the reason is up to you) but doesn’t tell anyone and shows up to practice anyway. It’s bad enough that he collapses on the field and that’s when everyone finds out.

I could have made this so much easier on myself and literally just written the conversation at the end. As it is, I started hating this about a third of the way through.

I hope that's just hyper-criticism of my own work and that this is still an enjoyable request fill.

---

It wasn’t like he’d done it on purpose.

A lack of sleep, a dark hallway, and a half-forgotten set of steps had all converged into a little tumble in the middle of the night. That was all.

A bruised side. A knock on the head. No big deal.

That’s what Jamie had told himself as he’d inspected the damage in the mirror. He would be fine. He could put his kit on at home and wear a beanie to cover up the dark smudge of skin at his temple.

No one would notice. No one needed to know. It would be fine. Hardly the first time he’d pushed through an injury to stay in the game, was it?

He didn’t need to miss training. He didn’t need to turn up at Nelson Road and tell Ted he couldn’t play. Just the thought of trying to do so sent a thrill of unease through Jamie that he wasn’t keen to examine too closely.

So he took some ibuprofen, slowly and stiffly got changed into his Richmond gear, and called a taxi to get himself to the training ground late enough that no one had time to question his appearance.

(Driving was out of the question. He could admit that.)

Roy all but sneered at him when he stumbled in - that wasn’t anything to write home about, though. He caught a few looks from the others and had to wave Dani off on their way out to the pitch but, otherwise, Jamie was able to keep his head down and not draw attention to himself.

Drills were awful. Just stretching out his legs had him biting his tongue against making any pained sounds. When they started lunging, the hot-sick pain in his side necessitated swallowing down bile.

Sprints weren’t the worst, though Isaac definitely noticed he wasn’t starting from a crouch as he normally would. Then Nate had them doing a coordination exercise, hopping sideways and throwing balls between each other.

Lifting his arms was bad enough. Then each hop jolted Jamie’s whole body and made his head throb.

He managed, somehow, but Jamie wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He was being slow and clumsy. He was being useless. Fuck.

Panting, sweating, and trying not to throw up, he hovered at the back of the group and prayed no one called him out. No such luck. 

“You alright, mate?” Colin had sidled over while Ted called out their scrimmage teams. He was speaking quietly, which Jamie appreciated, but frowned at him with an unusual level of seriousness. Shit.

“Course I am.” Jamie forced himself to straighten up and smile. It felt wrong on his face. Too many teeth. “Just got a stitch. Didn’t drink enough.”

Colin looked doubtful, like he was about to question him further, but Jamie pushed forward to accept his yellow vest from Beard and positioned himself as far away from the Welshman as he could.

He was careful to stay in the formation they were practising, though. No sense in fucking up training for everyone more than he already had.

Roy hollered “WHISTLE!” from the side of the pitch and everyone lurched into action. Running around wasn’t so bad and Jamie soon lost himself in the game, following the movement of the ball and players with a preternatural instinct, ignoring any pain as the inconvenient distraction it was.

The few times the ball came his way, he took control of it as if by second nature, barely having to tell his feet what to do as he passed to Dani, then to Sam ten minutes later.

He was being a good teammate. He was playing like he was supposed to. And then he heard someone shout his name.

Jamie didn't need to look around to know that the ball would be sailing through the air towards him. He didn't need to deliberate about what to do. He would catch the ball on his chest and send it to Sam again before Richard could make it close enough to tackle. It was the only option to get it in the net.

He didn't need to think about it. He just did it.

And his sore, battered ribs only crossed his mind when he jumped up and twisted mid-air.

The yelp of pain was completely involuntary and Jamie would have been horrendously embarrassed by it if he hadn’t immediately crumpled into a heap on the pitch.

Something had grinded in his torso. It fucking hurt. It felt wrong.

He distantly registered the sound of an actual whistle over the rushing white noise in his ears as he lay gasping on the damp grass. A hand grasped his arm and Jamie realised Richard had skidded to his knees beside him, ball forgotten.

“Jamie? What’s wrong?” More hands were on him, trying to turn him over, but the slight pull sent another wave of sick pain through his side and he keened, curling up further to stave off the harm. “Merde, get the medics.”

“Colin’s already gone.” That was Isaac, a lot closer than he’d been less than five minutes ago, defending the box on the other end of the pitch. “He’ll need a stretcher if we can’t move him ourselves.”

“Fuck.” The notion of needing to be carried out of training brought Jamie back to himself. “I don’t need… Fuck it. I’m fine.”

“No, you are not.” Sam was standing over him as well, Jamie realised as he tried to force himself up to his knees at least. Most of the team were looming around, actually, and Ted broke through their little huddle right as a spike in pain brought up the vomit Jamie had been desperately holding back all morning.

“Hoo boy.” An American accent could really cut through the crowd, apparently, since Jamie had no problem hearing that low exclamation over twenty or so sounds of disgust.

Someone stopped him from pitching forward into his own sick and Jamie finally, limply, accepted help back upright onto his own shaky legs. Ted’s hands were one of the several pairs supporting him and Jamie could feel the humiliation and shame rising up in his gut like another bout of nausea.

“Sorry, coach,” he mumbled, even as he let Isaac put a secure arm around his waist. Sam tried to prop up his other side but Jamie shied away with an apologetic shake of the head. “Ribs. Don’t- Can’t lift me arm right now.”

He silently begged the younger player to understand, to not take it as yet another personal slight. Because Sam Obisanya was a much better person than Jamie would ever be, he only took a firm hold of Jamie’s elbow instead, face belying nothing but concern.

“Okay, folks, let’s give him some room.” Ted shooed gently at everyone not currently vital to keeping Jamie vertical. “You fellas got a good hold of him? We can get a stretcher out here, tout sweet.”

“Don’t want a fucking stretcher. I can walk.” Jamie bit out, choosing not to acknowledge how heavily he was still leaning on Isaac and Sam.

“Well, son, I’m not all too keen on taking your word for that right now.”

Ted’s tone didn’t change at all from the pleasant, practical way he’d just addressed the others. He didn’t raise his voice even a little. Jamie still felt the admonishment like a physical blow and hung his head with a wince.

“We’ve got him,” Sam spoke up. “Treatment room, right?”

They made an awkward threesome, hobbling off the pitch behind Ted and down the tunnel. Colin jogged out to meet them with a medic in tow and (surprise, surprise) Roy peeled off from the other coaches to join the entourage hustling Jamie towards the now-not-haunted medical suite.

Settled uncomfortably on the edge of the reclining bed, with a hovering audience whose eyes he couldn’t meet if he tried, Jamie numbly answered the medic’s questions about his pain level and location. He allowed her to gently remove his hat and examine the bruise underneath, went through the concussion tests without complaint, and was even honest about when he’d last eaten or drank anything.

When she pulled up his shirt, there was more than one sympathetic wince around the room. A quick look down confirmed that the bruise, though still quite small, had deepened in colour since he’d last poked at it and his skin looked oddly swollen around the area.

Even the barest methodical prodding with careful fingers made Jamie flinch and hiss through his teeth. The medic (Jennifer, Jamie vaguely recalled) hummed thoughtfully.

“Two are definitely broken. You’ll need to stay off the pitch for a few weeks, at least.”

The prognosis tightened Jamie’s throat like a hand was clamped around his neck. 

“Weeks? Nah, fuck that,” he choked out. “I were playing fine until I took the chest ball. I can still score.”

“Are you actually thick?” Roy demanded, loud and angry as per usual. There was something wild in his expression as he stepped closer to the bed. “How fucking stupid do you have to be to try and play with broken fucking ribs.”

“Fuck off, you won’t even coach me,” Jamie snarled at him, all attempts at mending bridges forgotten in the wake of pain and frustration. “Don’t act like it matters if I play hurt or not. I’ve done it plenty times before.”

“Alright, alright!” Ted cut in between them before Roy could retort with whatever words had conjured up that twisted, outraged look on his face. Nothing good, Jamie was sure.

“Roy, why don’t you take five, okay? In fact, let’s clear the room. Y’all got things to do, I’ll stick with Jamie while the good doc here gets him set up with what he needs.”

Even with Ted partially blocking his view, Jamie could see Roy was about to argue. Surprisingly, it was Isaac’s hand on his shoulder that seemed to take the wind out of his sails.

“Fuck! Fine!” He shrugged the hand off and pointed damningly at Jamie’s face. “But you’re not putting a toe out on the grass until I say so, you bloody fuckwit.”

With that, Roy stormed out of the room, sending the door bouncing off the wall with the force of his exit. Jamie’s teammates followed much more sedately, all with looks back over their shoulders and quiet murmurs Jamie couldn’t discern.

“Here.” He jumped slightly when maybe-Jennifer reappeared at his side with a bundle of items. “Drink this and take two paracetamol. Hold the ice pack to your side for twenty minutes. If the swelling hasn’t gone down, I’ll send you home with a few extras, okay?”

“Thank you kindly, doc,” Ted answered for him. “I’ll make sure he stays put for a bit.”

“Not a doctor,” she corrected mildly but gave Ted a smile and nod. “I’ll need you to sign an incident report and there’s some insurance paperwork to go through. I’ll go get the ball rolling on that and check in later.”

Jamie didn’t really like the way they were talking around him, rather than to him. He liked the idea of being alone with Ted after having caused a scene and an extra load of work for him even less. Still, he couldn’t think of any reason for the medic to stay and just watched her walk away, gently closing the door in her wake.

“You should probably do as she says,” Ted said softly after a moment of quiet, indicating the bottle of water and packet of tablets. “Doesn’t strike me as the ‘take it or leave it’ kind of advice. Rarely is, from those of the medical persuasion, even if they don’t have a fancy title.”

Moving like he was underwater, braced for the other shoe to drop, Jamie silently went through the motions of taking the painkillers. He tried not to move in any way that would agitate his injury but his hands were still shaking by the time he reached for the ice pack.

“Oh, here, let me…” Ted stepped in closer, his own hands outstretched, and Jamie flinched violently. The sudden jolt caused his abused ribs to make themselves known all over again and a small shout fell from his mouth unbidden.

“Alright, okay, no touching, got that memo, loud and clear,” Ted rambled on while Jamie waited for his vision to clear from the haze of pain. When it did, he noticed his coach frozen in place, hands still hovering in midair and significantly less threatening than moments before.

“Sorry,” he croaked, embarrassment and discomfort robbing his voice. “Didn’t mean… I’m sorry.”

“Now, hey, no. That one’s on me.” Ted glanced around and pulled up a chair to sit near Jamie’s knees. “How’s about you get that ice where it needs to be and you and I have a little heart-to-heart, that sound okay?”

Jamie nodded and gingerly wrapped the frozen pouch in the towel provided before applying it to his side. The relief was almost immediate and he felt his shoulders relax from the tense position he hadn’t even registered amongst everything else.

Ted clearly noticed too, since he smiled up at Jamie. There was still a furrow between his eyebrows, though.

“Ain’t it great when stuff helps the way it’s supposed to?” he started and Jamie tried not to let the dread of what was coming show on his face. “You know, when you’re sure that, in theory, something should do you good but you’re not quite bought into the reality yet? It’s a damn good feeling when the bet pays off.

“Course, sometimes it goes the other way. The thing that’s supposed to help you doesn’t do anything at all. Or, hell, it just makes everything worse…”

“I’m sorry,” Jamie blurted out again in a panic. “I weren’t trying to do that. I swear, I know I’m not supposed to mess up training or nothing. I… I…”

“Whoa, whoa, Jamie!” Ted’s smile had dropped clean off his face. “I think we’ve got some wires all muddled up here, somewhere. I’m not fishing for an apology. Matter of fact, I’m kind of wriggling on the end of the hook, myself.”

Jamie really, honestly tried to wrap his head around that one. He failed. “What?”

“I’m sorry, Jamie,” Ted told him firmly. “We all knew something wasn’t right with you out there today and let you play on through anyway. That’s no bueno. If you can’t rely on your coach to help you out when you need it, well, then, that’s not a sign of a very good coach, is it?”

Jamie stared at him, dumbfounded. “But… I didn’t tell you I were hurt.”

“There is that,” Ted agreed easily, nodding and settling back in his chair. “And I’d sure like to hear how you got knocked around so good in the whole twelve hours you were out of our sight. Any particular reason you didn’t share that with the class this morning?”

“I…” The hand that wasn’t holding the ice pack to Jamie’s ribs started picking at the disposable paper sheet on the bed. “I fell. Down the stairs at me house. Last night. I. It didn’t hurt too bad, I thought.”

Ted hummed. “Well, you see? Accident like that, it ain’t anybody’s fault. And you felt okay after?”

The excuse hung there so temptingly that Jamie was almost inclined to think they were back to mind games. He could tell Ted that he’d been sore, but fine, up until he got out on the pitch. But that would be just another lie, wouldn’t it? And all lying had done for him today was drag more and more people into his shit.

So, instead of agreeing like he so desperately wanted to do, he shook his head slowly.

“No, no I weren’t okay.” He swallowed and looked down at his shoes, dangling just shy of the floor. “Couldn’t even drive myself in, could I? But I thought being here and acting normal was better than… better than saying I couldn’t train today. More important.”

“Oh. Now, that’s another thing to chalk up in the ‘no bueno’ category, I’m sorry to say.” Ted’s voice had softened again but Jamie couldn’t bring himself to look up. “Jamie, if you’re hurting, ever, practice or no, I’d really rather you say so. Nothing’s more important than that.”

“Team is,” Jamie objected quietly. “Being here is. I don’t got anywhere to get sent back to now, do I?”

That sullen admission hung in the air. Jamie heard Ted suck in a breath.

“Okay. Alright. Could you do me a favour and try to lift that handsome as all heck face of yours up, just a smidge? I’m getting the feeling eye contact is going to be real important here.”

With very few options of avoidance available to him, Jamie forced himself to meet Ted’s gaze. His expression bore a startling resemblance to Roy’s wild-eyed reaction before, which did nothing to set Jamie’s mind at ease.

“Jamie, when you turned up to practice last season and said you weren’t going to train, I assumed you were mad because I benched you. That sound about right?”

The player nodded, ready for the familiar prickle of shame that clawed through his chest at the memory.

“So you weren’t actually hurt? Or did I get that wrong?”

Jamie shook his head this time, then clarified: “Were being a prick.”

“Alright, that’s fine. Water under the bridge.” Ted scrubbed a hand over his face, looking relieved for some bizarre reason. “Can we agree, though, that there’s a difference between someone pretending to be hurt, for whatever reason, and someone actually being badly injured? That a middle ground we can settle on?”

“Yeah…” Jamie agreed cautiously.

“Outstanding.” Ted took a deep breath. “So, let’s just take a little hop, skip and jump from there to how things might’ve played out a little differently today than they did last year?”

“Oh.” Jamie blinked a few times, processing. Slotting that bit of logic into the missing gaps of the day. “You’re not angry at me for missing training?”

Ted’s face broke back into a genuine, if tired, smile. “No, sir, I am not angry at you for that. Or for any other reason, while we’re on the subject. I am… mighty disappointed that you didn’t feel like you could come to me, or even call when you took your little tumble. But I think maybe we can both agree to do a little better next time, how about that?”

He held out his hand for a shake - his left, in deference to Jamie’s occupied right. That small concession alone was enough for Jamie to wordlessly grasp Ted’s palm with his own in a firm hold.

“Alright. I’ll try.”

“I know, Jamie,” Ted assured him. “That’s all any of us can do.”

[vickyvicarious]

His attitude to me was the same as that to the attendant; in his sublime self-feeling the difference between myself and attendant seemed to him as nothing. It looks like religious mania, and he will soon think that he himself is God. These infinitesimal distinctions between man and man are too paltry for an Omnipotent Being. How these madmen give themselves away! The real God taketh heed lest a sparrow fall; but the God created from human vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow. Oh, if men only knew!

Seward: Renfield actually dares to treat me the same as he did the attendant. Who does he think he is, God?

Seward: ....he totally is going to think he's God any minute now. There's no other explanation. After all, sure, the real God cares about sparrows but hello, I'm an eagle. Not all birds are the same to just dismiss like this.

"I am here to do Your bidding, Master. I am Your slave, and You will reward me, for I shall be faithful. I have worshipped You long and afar off. Now that You are near, I await Your commands, and You will not pass me by, will You, dear Master, in Your distribution of good things?" He is a selfish old beggar anyhow. He thinks of the loaves and fishes even when he believes he is in a Real Presence. His manias make a startling combination.

Seward: Hmph! I always knew he was selfish and just wanted things out of people. Even when he thinks he's next to God, he just tries to get things from people. What, are the spiders I give him not enough anymore?

...I joke but seriously. His feelings are hurt and he's lashing out. And also, look at how quick he's jumping to conclusions in doing so. He immediately assumes Renfield is going to think himself God. Later, when that seems proven false by Renfield appealing to some kind of higher presence at the chapel door, Seward doesn't remark on that at all. Instead, he grumbles about his behavior in a very put-out way. He started the entry trying to engage Renfield on the subject of his pets (which Seward generously allows him to keep, some of which Renfield has previously wheedled and pleaded to get from him with lots of deference) and is shut down, so his complaints on this line in particular definitely feel like they're stemming from a sense of rejection. And of course, Renfield running away is a pretty clear 'rejection' also.

It doesn't feel like a coincidence that this entry also includes these lines:

I am weary to-night and low in spirits. I cannot but think of Lucy, and how different things might have been.

Seward is lonely, and in the past he's sought to distract himself from that in work. He's sought social fulfillment of a sort with Renfield. When Renfield rejects him, he sinks into a depressed mood and has to make a very deliberate effort to resist self-medicating. His sleep schedule is all screwed up. And his reason for not indulging isn't even so much out of wanting to be more healthy himself than it is due to this pedestal he's put Lucy on. He doesn't want to associate her with the drugs he wants to take, and since he's been unable to stop thinking about her after this new rejection, he chooses not to take it.

He's a mess.

[maggplays]

Bio? Something like that.

How did I start modding? Literally no one has asked this, but here's my story, don't worry it's not long... I guess that depends on what your definition of “long” is, haha! Hang on, here we go.

On a random day in January, 2024, a few days before my birthday, I might add... I woke up to stars in my right eye. A few days later, I was told I had a very rare injury and it would never heal. Those are not words an artist/gamer wants to hear! Long story short, I am now legally blind in my right eye. If you think, oh that's not a huge deal, you can still see. Humor me, get a cheap pirate eyepatch, put that on, then pour yourself a cup of coffee. Not as easy as you thought, right? Depth perception. It’s a thing. Anyway, on with the story. Suffice it to say, I was depressed. Majorly. Then, through some random conversation somewhere, I found Stardew Valley.

Perfect! 2D animation, cute pixel art, story that's not sugar-coated anime, I love it! Got to year 3, TBH I've never played past year 3 because ADHD, and realized the dialogue was quite lacking. Then I discovered mods. What the-, it's a freakin' goldmine! Downloaded a lot of things, mostly dialogue, and tossed half of them. While playing through a Sebastian run, I saw it. Oh. My. God. It's a coding error glaring at me in my dialogue box. This is NOT acceptable. I tried to ignore it, but then it happened again. Okay, time for some investigation. I opened the folder and found... json files. Interesting, I wasn't entirely clueless since I do know HTML code from back when the internet was a baby, Facebook had no ads, and dinosaurs roamed the earth. Okay, okay, the internet was more like a spoiled toddler. Yes, I'm old. Shut up. But I digress. It didn't take long to discover the misplaced punctuation and go on my merry reality-avoiding way. Until I got bored again.

I looked for more Seb mods, but there were like seven. Three were yandere, not my jam, and only 2 were updated for 1.6 and were dialogue-only. Solution? Make my own mod for myself. I spent six weeks downloading mods, learning code, Googling to very little effect, writing dialogue, learning how to make an event, discovering I knew nothing, and on and on. The perfect distraction from the whole eye thing. I finished a decent draft, loaded it up, and praise Yoba, it worked! And on we play. At some point, I saw a comment complaining about the lack of Sebastian dialogue mods. Huh, yep, they're right. Too bad. Oh. Well, I guess I could load this thing I made, it's really just my own internal story monologue while playing the game, I'm NOT a writer, and most people probably won't get it. But I did spend a lot of time on this, and maybe someone out there will like it. Heck, no skin off my nose since it's free. So I took a deep breath, made peace with my inner demons, and threw it out into the void of Nexus, expecting it to be swallowed up and ignored. That... didn't happen.

In the first few hours, several people downloaded it. Huh, Nexus must have a decent search algorithm. That was literally all I thought about it. The next day, 300 downloads. And comments! Mostly positive with the exception of one wild demand I subsequently ignored. At one week, it had 3,000 unique downloads. I was floored, 3,000 weirdos downloaded my mod. Add to that, people seemed to actually like it! I've never gotten so much positive feedback for anything in my life. Seriously. Apparently, my oddball internal monologue, thanks ADHD, is quite entertaining. Heck, might as well make another one... and here we are. Yes, I've gotten negative comments and unreasonable demands, but I do my best to ignore them and practice staying positive. Trolls be damned! It's a lot harder to do that for yourself than for other people, turns out.

So, bottom line, found something interesting? Try it! Does it make you happy? Keep doing it! Even if it's only for yourself, do the thing and let it make you smile. Share it with the world if you're so inclined. Get out there and kick ass!!

[palmtreepalmtree]

Alright, everyone. This probably will not be a long one because... oof... but without further ado, this is...

THE WORST MOVIE ON NETFLIX RIGHT NOW

Today, I am pleased to present A Family Affair, starring Nicole Kidman, Zac Efron, and Joey King.

The premise for this very questionable movie is that Zara (King) is a personal assistant to the man-child movie star, Chris (Efron), and is horrified when her widowed mother, Brooke (Kidman) starts sleeping with him.

There's so much that's wrong with this movie, it's hard to figure out where to begin. I've watched it twice now to try to put my finger on the problem. The biggest issue here is that none of this feels particularly real -- definitely not King's acting, Efron's character, and least of all Kidman's wig.

ARITHMETIC

Even after watching this movie twice, I found myself spending way too much time trying to do some mental math in the middle to make everyone's ages make sense. Especially when they threw in Kathy Bates as Kidman's mother-in-law. Like... I think it works???

But it's fucking distracting.

The movie never meaningfully addresses the age gap between Kidman and Efron. On the one hand, sure. They wouldn't touch it if the genders were reversed. But that also feels disingenuous since Efron's character is hounded by paparazzi. You're telling me this schmuck who obsesses about his brand as an actor never has a single moment of insecurity about dating an older woman!?!?!? PLEASE.

FAKE FANTASY

It feels at times like this movie is a fantasy every which way you look at it, except for in the way that matters. As a viewer, I want to get swept up in the fantasy -- what if I had a meet-cute with a movie star!? What if I was a published novelist, with beachfront property in Malibu, and an entire closet of couture dresses that Vogue sent me and that could fit me?! What if I could afford a luxury SUV on an assistant's salary?!? What if Big Bear actually looked like that in the snow!?

The thing is, all of this falls so flat, you can't get lost in it as a viewer. And it's not funny or charming enough to keep you interested in the story or get you invested in the relationships.

HATEABLE

I regret to inform you there's not a single likeable character in this movie. The Zac Efron movie star feels like it was written from the whispers of disgruntled assistants. It's just TOO AWFUL. And while at times it can be funny, it's hard to believe that Nicole's character could ever fall for him.

Look, I don't know if you know this, but movie stars, especially ones who mostly get by on looks, are VERY CHARMING. This is part of how they get cast. But in this movie, we never see this motherfucker be charming. Not even once.

Joey's character is probably right for objecting so hard to this relationship, but she spends so much of the movie just screaming about things, it's really fucking hard to be rooting for her. Also, she's obviously a rich kid. Like MALIBU RICH.

And Nicole... like... I have so many questions... like... look I hate that this is where we're at with things, but there's something uncanny valley about her face and her hair through the whole movie. It's kinda hard to watch her or feel anything for her. That must be a wig. It must be. And it's just so awful the whole time. This is such a far-cry from how she looked in Big Little Lies. WHAT HAPPENED.

THE IDEA OF YOU PROBLEM

Look, the biggest issue here is that this movie gets wrong all of the things that The Idea of You got right. Where A Family Affair ignores the age gap, The Idea of You wrestles with it as a central part of its plot. While A Family Affair dresses Nicole in horribly unattractive clothes, The Idea of You puts Anne Hathaway in a stunning, sexy wardrobe.

WHO DID THIS TO YOU NICOLE!?!?

While both films present fantasy lives for their leading ladies (a novelist and an art gallery owner), The Idea of You seems somehow more real and thus attainable as fantasy (a craftsman house in Silverlake as opposed to a beachfront mansion in Malibu). While A Family Affair alludes to sex and romance, it doesn't have even a hint of the sex appeal and romance of The Idea of You. It's never even clear what Nicole's character sees in Zac's, beyond his body, even once the relationship has begun to carry on and clearly affect her emotionally.

In many ways, these films are mirrors of each other. Neither of these are perfect movies, and they share a lot of similar story beats and themes: the relationships, including mother-daughter, fame and celebrity, solo female success, betrayal of the spouse, and so on and so forth.

But A Family Affair is basically the funhouse mirror version of the story. It may make you giggle a couple times, but you're not going to stand there taking it in for very long. Best to just move on and forget you ever saw it.