#I need sloan more than I need air

[epic-edster]

I think I should’ve added more hearts

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 17: The One About All the Hot Air

Oh, hey, hey, hey – what is that over there?

No, not that –

That!

Ah, fuck.

Is that what I think it is?

Yeah, yeah, it looks like some sort of hot air balloon.

Ugh, it’s that fucking wannabe Wizard! Get that manipulative shit-fuck outta here!

Seriously, don’t let it set foot on land. It’s not welcome on this side of Oz.

Someone release the flying monkeys! Like, now. Knock it out of the sky.

Wait, I thought the Wizard liked green. This weirdo has a red balloon.

Bitch, I didn’t say it was the Wizard; I said it was a wannabe Wizard.

Oh, no wonder it’s steering that balloon like a fucking clown.

Hell, I don’t even think we need the monkeys. That idiot is going to crash and burn itself straight into the glass walls of the Emerald Palace.

Well, you know what they say when you start throwing stones in a glass house…

It is slightly amusing (and a tad concerning) to me that children are always led to believe that the villain of “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is that bitch of a Witch of the West when the worst character traits are actually portrayed by the Wizard himself. And, by “worst character traits,” I mean that he was a master manipulator who conned an entire city into believing he held some form of great power.

Did you know that in the original story the Emerald City wasn’t really that green? Sure, it was made from green glass and emeralds, but the Wizard required everyone to wear green-colored glasses so that everything appeared greener than it actually was. Weird, that. And, even more weird, people bought it! “Here, put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fully aware “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is a work of fiction, but the idea that people can be easily manipulated – especially by someone with “power” – is not fiction.

That’s what today’s piece of “hot air” is about – fandom manipulation and the power of suggestion. And who better than to manipulate an entire fandom than the media? It’s unfortunate that I have to give the media power in this story – and even more unfortunate that I have to give it to rag-mags and social media – but the reality is information is power, regardless of whether it’s misinformation. In fact, MIT Sloan did a study in 2018 demonstrating how false information spreads through social media, namely, Twitter, six times faster than true information. Disturbing, right? I don’t even want to know what the going rate for misinformation is in 2025.

And, of course, since I opened today’s story with a visit to the Land of Oz, we may as well take a day trip over to Australia. Remember how I told you Australia deserved an entry of its own? Well, this is it. No, not really. I did say this was a day trip, not a sleep-over, so it’s not going to be chucked full of shiny bracelets or ways to “keep a good girl down.” It’s just our starting point today.

In my first entry, I briefly described what brought me into this fandom. It was something Luke said – and not really what he said, but how he said it – that left me intrigued. He was being interviewed on the Bowral red carpet by “Gretchen from the Philippines.” Yes, that’s literally how she introduced herself! Could I instead refer to the nice lady by her real name (Gretchen Fullido)? Sure, but “Gretchen from the Philippines” is far more fun. Plus, it sounds kind of whimsical. Any ways, Gretchen (from the Philippines) asked Luke if, “in real life,” he’d support friends-to-lovers. Luke’s response was, well, a bit jumbled, which was what sparked my curiosity because his previous answers that day were, for the most part, articulate: “I would – I would support friends – I feel like it’s not something that – that I have in my li – that I resonate with – that I’ve experienced. But, you know, if my – if my friends wanted to explore a relationship with one their friends, go for it. I’ll support it.”

Something in the way Luke answered that question was like suddenly being able to see the forest for the trees. At that moment, I was convinced Luke had always been in love with Nicola, and everything else that went on during that particular red-carpet event (and thereafter) simply christened the USS Lukola. However, that comment by Luke – and a subsequent one he made in New York – would result in the addition of a lot of trees to our enchanted forest.

Now – I apologize – we need to borrow a hot air balloon, preferably one that can travel through time, and jump forward to November 5, London-time. I promise, we will return to Oz momentarily.

Oh, fuck.

What now?

That ridiculous faux Wizard is right behind us. I thought I told you to send in the monkeys!

Dammit, you said we didn’t need them! I left those fuckers back in Oz.

Well, umm, I think we might need them now.

Why??

Uhh, do you see those four-legged beasts on the ground chasing our balloon?

Oh, you mean those coyote-like creatures?

Yeah, but we’re not in the Americas – and those ain’t coyotes…

Ah, here we are: November 5, Claridge’s, London. This was the evening Nicola attended the Harper’s Bazaar Women of the Year awards. We’re only stopping in real quick to steal a piece of the speech Nicola gave that evening. Okay, got it! Let’s get the fuck out of here!

The part of the speech I wanted to share was this: “I did a six-month press tour for Bridgerton, the show which I love, and I’m so proud of. The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance, about my relationship…”

Hold up. Relationship? What relationship?

Did she say “relationship” or “relationships?”

Does it fucking matter?

Well, I guess not. But what does it mean?

I could tell you what I think it means… Wait a hot-air-balloon-minute – where the fuck have you taken us? I told you we needed to go back to April 21, Aussie-time. This looks like Soho in January.

Shit, sorry. Let me fix that. Here we go…

>>> 

Umm, hey, where’s that weird little red Wizard? I swear it was just behind us…

Eh, probably got stuck in Soho, hahaha. Guess it missed its exit.

Do you think that’s a good idea?

Yeah, sure. It’ll be fine…

We’ve returned to April 21, Bowral, Australia. Now, at this point in the timeline, World Tour interviews were already well underway. In fact, the first two parts of EmEdits on YouTube are entirely pre-Australia interviews, making up roughly 6 ½ hours of screen time. I’m not the least bit surprised that “Gretchen from the Philippines” asked Luke what his thoughts were on “real life” friends-to-lovers. The chemistry between Luke and Nicola was hard to ignore.

The Australian red carpet also introduced the hand holding, which – if we took another magical mystery tour over to May 9, Italy – Nicola and Luke agreed was a sign of “love.” I suppose I could buy the excuse that one or both had so much anxiety they needed the other’s hand to remain calm on the red carpet. But, nah, I wouldn’t buy that at all – for one very specific reason. When Luke and Nicola were seen leaving (I believe) the Milton Park Country House on April 23, Luke instinctively reached for Nicola’s hand as they were descending the steps. Why? This reflex by Cool Hand Luke was as natural as a pregnant woman touching her stomach. I ask again – why?

There’s only one answer.

It’s the answer that fits with the Claddagh ring. It’s the answer that fits with the side jaunt to Galway. It’s the answer that fits with their natural chemistry, the hand holding, the canned “shared experience” and “unique relationship” responses, the playful sexual innuendos. It’s the answer that fits with Luke’s “the best foundation for love is friendship” bracelet. It’s the answer that fits with Nicola’s remark about “[t]he amount of inappropriate questions I got asked…about my relationship…” It’s the only fucking answer that makes sense.

But, the real kicker is, why don’t people believe that is the answer?

Why is it so hard to believe that Luke and Nicola could be in a real-life relationship?

That’s easy – because the Man Behind the Curtain told us so.

Who is the Man Behind the Curtain? Well, that’s also easy. It’s collectively the rag-mags and the social media creators on the prowl for a following. It’s the spread of misinformation at its worst and it’s so incredibly easy to do with, say, a pair of green-colored glasses.

Like I said, “…put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

There was one major plot twist that came out of the World Tour, and you already know what that is. The seed was planted with a New Year’s Eve kiss, fertilized with blurry pictures, a compulsory hallway hug, and copycat photos, and encouraged to grow with a bit of junk news and a lot of social media innuendo. Now, I’m not saying the video and photographic evidence that was presented was fabricated; I’m simply suggesting the narrative that came out that evidence was skewed. The media, namely, social media creators, pushed us to plant Lutonia trees while Luke’s actions (i.e., not acknowledging the existence of Lutonia) told us to “pay no attention to the Man Behind the Curtain.”

Uh, so, what you’re saying is we shouldn’t have left that wannabe Wizard in Soho?

Ah, shit! I forgot about that fucker!

The unfortunate thing about the Lutonia narrative was that it was bolstered by insinuation that Luke would never be interested in Nicola. Now, whether these remarks were deliberately planted, or they were simply seedpods carried away by a storm, they were not overlooked by Lukolas – or Nicola. In fact, Nicola herself brushed upon it in her Harper’s Bazaar speech: “The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance…” Yes, I’m referring to the suggestion that Luke preferred “brunettes” over “blondes.” Somehow this narrative was conveniently supported by the existence of – lo and behold! – the brunette “friend of a friend” Antonia, who happened to be slender. Again, whether it was intentional or not, the push by, initially, social media creators (and later gossip rags) to link Luke to Antonia inadvertently called the blonde in our story – Nicola – fat. I refuse to dance around that word because it is exactly what this disgusting narrative implied when it chose to compare Antonia to Nicola. Regardless of whether these gossipmongers “corrected” themselves by replacing “thin” with “brunette” and “fat” with “blonde,” the implication was that Luke would never be interested in Nicola because she had thick blonde hair. This was incredibly upsetting and confusing to many Lukolas because it was contrary to Luke’s behavior towards Nicola throughout the World Tour (and in Bridgerton behind-the-scenes clips).

I decided months ago that Luke was incredibly transparent. And, by that, I mean he’s terrible at keeping secrets. Luke himself admitted his “tell” to this was pulling at his ear – now go watch the World Tour with that information in mind. It’ll give you something to do, at the very least. Luke’s sincerity is also why the blonde versus brunette nonsense just doesn’t take flight for me. Any ways, as I hinted at earlier, Luke’s comments on the Bowral red carpet and his later comments in New York City about friends-to-lovers would – again, unfortunately – give the Man Behind the Curtain ammunition to debunk any real-life relationship between Luke and Nicola. Luke was quickly labeled as being “…dismissive of something ever happening between him and Nicola…” Those are literally the words The Tab used in an article dated May 22 to explain Luke and Nicola’s differing commentary about real-life friends-to-lovers. In fact, the article is titled, “Luke Newton has revealed the reason he’d never date Bridgerton co-star Nicola Coughlan.” Oddly – but not really given the source – Luke never actually said he would never date Nicola. But that fact didn’t stop it from becoming a theme of the World Tour – Luke didn’t believe in friends-to-lovers therefore he would never date Nicola – even though, by the end of the tour, Luke’s stance on this had seemingly changed. That’s not to say the rag-mags misquoted Luke – they didn’t – but the narrative they coiled around his words attempted to shut down the idea that Luke and Nicola would ever date in real life because Luke wasn’t interested. But what Luke was saying was that he believed in love-at-first sight. “I actually don’t think friends-to-lovers is something that happens in my life. If I meet someone, I know immediately.” Now, take that statement with the fact that Luke has repeatedly stated he remembers everything about the moment he met Nicola.

The above examples of gossip and innuendo are simply par for the course. The media manipulates facts all the time – whether it be through social media chatter or rag-mags putting their own spin on ordinary commentary – but this type of manipulation is not what puts the fandom in danger of itself. In fact, most of the gossip and innuendo that took root during the World Tour would have dissipated almost immediately after it ended – if it hadn’t been for Papsmear.

Yeah. That was disastrous.

Come to think of it, it was awfully convenient, too, don’t you think?

Absolutely. And you know what else was convenient? That little wannabe Wizard was –

Oh, yeah, I heard that, too! That clown has been trying to hand out green-colored glasses ever since!

Yep. Tried to give me a pair and I told it to go fuck itself and its little glass cat, too. I mean, they weren’t even name brand glasses. Fake ass, bitch.

All jesting aside, if you haven’t noticed already, I do, on occasion, use my writing to call out the fandom, usually as a whole. I mean, we are in this together, right? Actually, no; we ceased being Collectively Delulu after a few unsavory characters were bitten by the Hunter’s Moon and followed Nicola through the streets of New York and London. There was a major – and rather unexpected – shift in the fandom when the rabid Jakolas appeared from the dark corners of our enchanted forest. And I’m sure you’ve realized at this point in my story that I have one particular – oh, shit, I just realized I don’t even know to which fandom our wannabe Wizard belongs. Ruh-roh. Regardless, that motherfucker is in my peep sight because it is a perfect example of how fandom manipulation has reached a new level of toxicity.

Typically, I don’t care what part of the fandom you’re on. My general attitude is, to each their own. If you’re a Jakola and you find yourself spending an average of 15 minutes each week reading my Lukola blog, I applaud you for peeking outside of the den hole. Best not let Alpha find out, though. It’s all in good fun, right? I often find myself getting a good laugh from Jakola stories, especially when they theorize on the Woman Behind the Curtain. Question, though – did you find her? In all seriousness, if I didn’t consider Jakola and Lutonia perspectives, I would be borderline Conscientiously Stupid, now, wouldn’t I? After all, the desire for knowledge is what ultimately gave our Scarecrow his brain.

However, what I don’t find “in good fun” is when social media creators prey on more than one side of the fandom under phony pretense, namely, that they “just want Nicola to be happy.” Oh, these Cowardly Lions may argue that they’re simply being “neutral” – and, yes, I’m sure some instances of this do exist – however, neutrality does not embrace openly ridiculing one fandom over another, especially on a platform that is touted by its owners as being a “safe space” for everyone. The problem with these so-called “neutral creators” is that they’re only here for social media engagement – the clicks and the giggles – and they defect to the other side when the going gets tough. If you, too, take issue with this kind of creator, be soothed in knowing that when you play two sides, you find yourself with two-times the number of enemies.

What makes these so-called “neutral creators” – actually, let’s just call them the “Defectors” – so poisonous to the fandom is that they are made from the grease drippings found at the bottom of the barrel of the Conscientiously Stupid. The Conscientiously Stupid are one thing – they are the ones using their platforms to spread misinformation because they choose to ignore exculpatory evidence (i.e., they’re headstrong in their beliefs) – but the Defectors are typically the ones creating the misinformation and feeding it to the Conscientiously Stupid and then hanging them out to dry when the information proves to be false. The Conscientiously Stupid who refuse to “lose the battle” then resort to bullying (more so than usual) the Sincerely Ignorant of an opposing fandom. And in defense of their Sincerely Ignorant comrades (or simply because they’re sick and tired of the Conscientiously Stupid preventing anyone from having nice things), the Fact Finders – unceremoniously, I might add – have taken their own place on the battlefield (oh, yes, they are absolutely your tactical commanders). Now, the entire fandom is at war with each other – all because some wannabe Wizard – a Defector – convinced people to look through a pair of shiny, green-colored glasses. More than once.

Is it appropriate – or perhaps a bit catty – to put “ceasefire” here?

Ah, yes, well, uh, we have found ourselves a bit far from Oz at this point, haven’t we?

I suppose – but we are trying to help Dorothy find her way back home, and at least we now have an idea as to how she got lost.

Maybe one day we will get her back to Kansas.

Yeah, maybe.

Oh, silly me! I forgot to sneak in a sly reference to Dorothy’s third companion – the Tin Man! He’s perfect for the end of our story. You know, in the book, the Wizard was just an ordinary man who stumbled into his Ozian existence on a magnificent hot air balloon and took advantage of the power that Emerald citizens bestowed upon him. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Wizard preyed on the naïve using deception and the power of suggestion and invoked fear in anyone who dared to question his authority –

Uh, where are you going with this?

Give me a minute!

Like I said – shit, where was I? – Oh, yes, the Wizard was just an ordinary man, and ordinary people are flawed. We all make mistakes. This is where our Tin Man comes in as he represents love and empathy. Yes, empathy; the ability to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, to understand and forgive, to take into consideration someone’s redeeming qualities –

You know that Wizard defected in his hot air balloon before taking Dorothy home, right?

Wait, what?

Okay, okay. It was Toto’s fault but the Wizard sure as shit didn’t come back for her!

Hmm, you’d almost think Toto knew the Wizard’s true colors all along…

“Au revoir, Wiz.”

[girlkisser13]

for the first time

"it's just like seeing her" "for the first time" "again"

pairings: amelia shepherd x fem!reader

warnings/tags: angst with a hint of fluff at the end. mentions of amelia having a relapse.

summary: you reunite with amelia after she comes back from rehab.

the corridors of grey sloan memorial hospital held a familiarity that felt like home. the steady rhythm of beeping monitors, hurried footsteps, and murmured conversations had been the soundtrack to your life for years. it was comforting, yet today, as you walked through the halls, there was an undercurrent of unease you couldn’t quite shake. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t been back in seattle for a while, or perhaps it was the uneasiness that always seemed to follow you since things fell apart with amelia.

mark had paged you for a consult. another reconstructive case that needed your expertise. you were good at this— rebuilding, putting things back together. it was what you did best, even if you couldn’t always apply the same skill to your own life.

you turned a corner sharply, your mind preoccupied with the upcoming surgery, and collided with someone. papers flew into the air like a cascade of autumn leaves, and you stumbled back, reaching out to steady the person you’d bumped into.

"i’m so sorry! i didn’t see you," you apologized, dropping to your knees to gather the scattered documents.

"no, it’s okay, i wasn’t looking where i was going either," a familiar voice replied.

you froze, your hand hovering over a paper as the recognition hit you like a tidal wave. you slowly looked up, heart hammering in your chest, and found yourself staring into the eyes of amelia shepherd.

"hi," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of surprise mixed with something else— something you couldn’t quite place.

"hi," you echoed, your voice barely more than a whisper.

the hospital faded away, the bustle of nurses and doctors becoming a distant murmur as you stood there, looking at each other. she looked almost exactly the same as the last time you’d seen her. her hair was shorter, yes, but her eyes still held that familiar spark of determination and defiance. there was a vulnerability in her gaze, though, that hadn’t been there before.

for a moment, you were both back at johns hopkins, two young residents studying late into the night, navigating the grueling demands of your profession while also navigating the complexities of your relationship. she’d been your world back then, the anchor that kept you grounded when everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.

"amelia…" you began, but before you could find the right words, your pager buzzed, breaking the moment. you glanced down, seeing mark’s name flashing on the small screen. "i—i have to go," you stammered, taking a step back. "mark’s paging me."

"yeah, of course," she replied quickly, masking the disappointment that flashed across her face. "i’ll see you around?"

you nodded, still trying to process the fact that she was standing in front of you. "yeah, sure."

as you walked away, you couldn’t help but look back. amelia was still standing there, watching you go, a wistful expression on her face. a wave of emotions threatened to overwhelm you, but you pushed them down, focusing on the task at hand. mark needed you, and that’s where your focus had to be.

mark was waiting for you in the attending lounge, leaning casually against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. he looked up when you entered, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"what took you so long?" he asked, his tone teasing.

"i, uh, got held up," you replied vaguely, trying to shake off the encounter with amelia. "what did you want my opinion on?"

mark handed you a patient file, but his eyes stayed on your face, studying you intently. "i was looking at a complicated reconstruction case. thought you might have some ideas. but, you know, since you’ve been avoiding seattle like the plague, i haven’t been able to ask for your expertise in a while."

you knew he was baiting you, and you weren’t in the mood. "i’ve been busy, mark. you know that."

"sure," he said with a shrug, his expression still smug. "by the way, did you know amelia’s here?"

the file slipped from your hands, falling to the floor. you bent to pick it up, trying to hide the sudden rush of emotions his words caused. "yeah," you said, your voice more steady than you felt. "i ran into her in the hall."

mark’s eyes gleamed with amusement. "and? how was that?"

you shot him a glare. "she said hi. i said hi back. then you paged me."

"really?" he said, his voice laced with disbelief. "because she looked like she wanted to say more than just hi."

"do you know why she’s here?" you asked, changing the subject.

"nope," he said, shaking his head. "but she did say she was looking for you."

you felt your heart skip a beat. "looking for me? why?"

before mark could answer, a voice cut through the room. "mark." both of you turned to see amelia standing in the doorway, looking hesitant. "can i talk to you for a minute?"

mark straightened up, glancing at you before nodding at amelia. "sure, come on in."

you felt trapped, the walls of the small lounge closing in on you. "i should go prep for my surgery," you mumbled, quickly walking past amelia without meeting her eyes. as you left the room, you heard mark and amelia start talking, their voices fading as you made your way down the corridor. your mind was a storm of thoughts and memories, each one bringing with it a wave of emotion you weren’t prepared to face.

later that afternoon, you were in the lounge again, trying to focus on a patient’s chart when amelia found you. she entered quietly, her presence like a ghost in the room. you didn’t look up, your attention fixed on the papers in front of you.

"can we talk?" she asked softly, breaking the silence.

you took a deep breath before raising your eyes to meet hers. "what are you doing here, amelia?" you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral.

"i wanted to see you," she said simply.

you felt a flicker of frustration. "you flew three hours just because you wanted to see me?"

"yes," she replied, her voice unwavering.

silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating. you felt her eyes on you, searching, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet her gaze. she took a step closer, and you saw her pull something from her bag. it was an envelope— the letter you had sent her when she was in rehab.

"i read your letter," she said, holding it out like it was a fragile piece of glass. "i’m sober now. i’ve been through rehab, therapy… i’ve done the work. but you weren’t there."

her words stung, and you finally looked up, meeting her gaze. the sincerity in her eyes was unmistakable. she looked like the same woman you’d fallen in love with all those years ago, and yet there was something different about her now— an openness, a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before.

"you don’t get to use my letter against me, amelia," you said, your voice tinged with anger. "not after everything you said to me."

her eyes filled with tears, and she took another step closer. you instinctively took a step back, the distance between you growing. the hurt in her eyes was palpable, and it mirrored the pain you’d carried for so long.

"i know i hurt you," she said, her voice breaking. "i didn’t mean those things. it was the drugs talking. i was scared and angry and broken. i wish i could take it all back."

you felt a lump in your throat, memories of those final days flooding back. the way she had looked at you with nothing but disdain, the harsh words that had cut deeper than any scalpel ever could. you had known she was spiraling, but you hadn’t known how to help. and then she had pushed you away, saying things that still haunted you.

"i know you didn’t mean them," you said quietly. "but that doesn’t make them hurt any less."

"i’m sorry," she whispered, tears spilling down her cheeks. "i’d do anything to take it all back, to make it right. i’m here now. and i’m sober. i came back to you. please, come back to me too."

loving amelia had always been complicated, a tangle of emotions you could never quite unravel. but standing here now, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes and hearing the sincerity in her apology, you felt something shift inside you. her presence brought back a flood of memories— late nights studying at johns hopkins, quiet moments stolen between surgeries, laughter shared over dinner.

but there was more than just nostalgia. there was pain. deep, lingering pain from the harsh words she'd said during her relapse. words that had cut deeper than any scalpel ever could. words you weren’t sure you could forget.

"amelia," you began, your voice uncertain. "i don’t know if i can do this again."

she looked at you, her eyes filled with emotion. "do you still love me?" she asked softly.

the question hit you like a freight train. did you? it felt like loving her was an inherent part of who you were, woven into your very being. but could you survive loving her again? you opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. instead, you stood there, silent.

amelia’s face fell, but she didn’t back away. instead, she took a tentative step closer. "because i still love you," she said, her voice trembling. "i’m still so in love with you. i don’t think i’ve ever… stopped being in love with you."

her words were like a balm to the wounds you’d carried for so long, but they also brought a new wave of fear. could you trust her again? could you trust yourself not to fall into the same pattern, the same heartbreak? "what are we supposed to do, amelia?" you asked, voice strained. "ruin each other all over again?"

she shook her head fiercely, determination shining in her eyes. "no. that’s not what i want. i want to love you the way you deserve to be loved. i want to be there for you, support you, make up for all the times i hurt you. and if you’re not ready yet, that’s okay. i’ll wait for you. as long as it takes."

you studied her, really looked at her, and for the first time, you noticed the changes. she seemed different, stronger, more grounded. it was like seeing her for the first time again, and it scared you. what if you had both changed too much? what if the love you’d once shared was gone, replaced by the scars of time and pain?

"i don’t know if we’re the same people we were before," you said quietly, voicing your fear. "we’ve changed, amelia. what if we’re too different now?"

she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing against yours, and the touch sent a spark through you, familiar and new all at once. "then that just means we get to fall in love with each other all over again," she said softly. "we get to learn each other’s hearts from the beginning. we get to build something new. something stronger."

her words resonated with you, and you felt the tension in your chest begin to ease. maybe she was right. maybe love didn’t have to be about holding on to the past. maybe it was about letting go, about choosing to believe in the possibility of something better. something real.

you took a deep breath, letting her words sink in. she was offering you a chance, not a promise that things would be perfect, but a promise that she would try. that she would be there. that she would love you.

"okay," you said finally, your voice barely more than a whisper. "okay, let’s try."

amelia’s eyes lit up with relief, a smile breaking across her face. she stepped closer, and this time, you didn’t move away. Instead, you let her wrap her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. you closed your eyes, resting your head against her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of peace. a sense of home.

[rebelumbrella46]

Let’s just be honest—The Umbrella Academy was essentially cancelled after Season 3, but given the massive fandom, Netflix gave them the chance to wrap up the story with a final season. It’s similar to what happened with Shadowhunters—it was cancelled, but after the outcry from fans, they were given two more episodes to tie things up.

For me, the first two seasons were masterpieces. They truly became my comfort show and introduced me to my comfort characters. This might sound cheesy, but it’s true—when the first season aired, I was going through a rough time in my life, and I held on to this show like my life depended on it. Season 2 arrived amidst the pandemic, and it was a light in the darkness for me as well. Even with the massive success of Season 2, I think Netflix hesitated to greenlight another season. I remember waiting for an announcement, and it felt like it took forever.

Season 3 was filmed during the pandemic, and if I recall correctly, Netflix cut the budget for visual effects. So, the season didn’t quite live up to the expectations set by Season 2. Regardless of its flaws, I enjoyed it, but I would have enjoyed it more if the writing hadn’t been so sloppy and, at times, cheesy.

But this last season? It feels like fanservice—and not even good fanservice. For example, the Lila and Five thing? The enhanced powers? The Jennifer Incident? All of it fell flat. Klaus’s storyline this season was basically what I wanted to see in Season 3, but it was delivered too late and added nothing meaningful to the plot.

But was the main plot really supposed to be about Jennifer? Who cares about introducing a new character in the final season instead of focusing on saying goodbye to the beloved main characters?

The subplots were boring. Klaus’s storyline was fanservice, but it felt like they just threw us a bone to appease years of fans asking for Klaus to get his comic powers. And it was insulting. Ben and Jennifer in love? Unrealistic and boring. The train station? Who came up with that cheap idea? I thought it would be a place built by Reggie, but there was no explanation at all.

The apocalypse no longer feels exciting or even important. There’s no sense of urgency anymore.

The family dynamics—the strongest part of this show—felt odd and weak. Pairing Viktor with Reginald was boring. Lila and Diego’s drama? Nonsense. And what was the point of Claire? I thought she would be the main conflict of the season, with everyone banding together to save a character we’ve known since Season 1, who has emotional ties to every Umbrella.

And where were the villains? To make it as interesting as Seasons 1 and 2, you need a great antagonist. Like Hazel and Cha-Cha, The Handler, Reginald, or even an antihero like the Sparrows, Harlan, or the Commission. Why not make Abigail the greatest threat? Or bring back some of the former villains?

What about resolving old family drama, so that if the show’s end was going to be the family sacrificing themselves, they could all go in peace?

Instead, they didn’t address Allison’s betrayal at all. They created a huge rift between Five and Diego. Nothing for Klaus and Ben. No Umbrella Ben. No Sloane. Why is Lila even here anymore? Why didn’t she just ditch out like Ray and leave Diego with the kids to be a single dad? That would’ve made more sense coming from Lila than from Ray, to be honest.

For me, the writers, producers, and directors knew this show was cancelled, so they didn’t even try anymore. For me, the ending of season 3 was meant to be the ending of the show.

I watched Game of Thrones after it ended, so I didn’t experience the same level of rage, disappointment, and betrayal that fans felt. But now, I do.

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 19

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 8.8k (sorry, it's a long one)

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 18 | Series Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 19

Jake's heart pounded, eyes darting around the arrivals area at Tokyo Haneda. The arrivals board had said you'd landed twenty minutes ago, and his anticipation was turning into restlessness. He wished he could text you, check in on how you were feeling, how the flight was, and if you needed anything.

He was looking down at his watch again when the doors slid open. His head jerked up, and he felt a twinge in his neck with a flare of disappointment when it wasn’t you. Grimacing, he rubbed the sore muscles, fingers squeezing the cup of coffee he’d sipped on the train. The hour ride took twice the amount of time as a taxi, but after your reaction to the charges on the credit card bill, he was happy to do that if you wouldn’t fight him on grabbing a car back to base. After all, you’d already been traveling for 19 hours. After a nearly six-hour layover in San Francisco and over 11 hours in the air, it was almost 6:00AM local time. Jake had managed to get an early pass off the carrier to meet you at the airport and had reserved the Navy Lodge starting the night before so you could get off the plane and go right in to relax. You’d already texted him that the upgrade to first class was worth it for the lounge use alone during the layover, and he hoped you’d been able to sleep on the flight. He’d been too anxious to ensure everything was ready to get much sleep and regretted it, fatigue making his eyes heavy. After downing the rest of the coffee, he tossed the empty cup.

The doors opened again, and Jake felt his heart stop. He’d never seen a more beautiful sight than you in leggings and his old sweatshirt stretched across your seven-month pregnant belly. A grin spread across his mouth as he gripped the strap of his backpack and started to push through the crowd, watching as you looked for him. When you spotted him, he saw how your eyes widened and filled with tears as you hurried toward him, waddling a little. The smile that hid your wobbling lower lip. 

And then, in an instant, you were there, standing before him. Without a moment's hesitation, he enveloped you in his arms. His lips found the crown of your head, and he felt his heart surge with love at the sensation of your stomach against his. “Hey, darlin’,” Jake whispered, his voice husky with emotion. Unable to speak around the lump in your throat, you held him tightly - or as tightly as you could, between your stomach and breasts pressing against him and forcing you apart. 

Pulling away slightly, you tilted your head up and smiled at your husband, eyes blurry with tears. His lips met yours, and you could feel him grinning as one of his hands spanned your lower back while the other slid to touch your stomach. When you broke apart to breathe, you pushed onto your toes to chase his lips, trusting that he would keep you steady. Jake chuckled, kissing you again before resting his forehead against yours and wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “Missed you,” he said softly.

“I missed you more,” you replied. Shaking his head, he gently broke your hold on him.

“Not possible,” he said, sinking to one knee. You felt a flush rise as he leaned closer and kissed your middle. “Hey, Sloane-girl, it’s your daddy. Were you good for Mama on the plane?” Your hand went to his shoulder, holding tightly to his backpack strap as he leaned against you. 

“You’re gonna make me ugly cry in public, Seresin.” Your tone was teasing, but he could hear the barely concealed tears in your voice. Chuckling, he kissed Sloane again before springing to his feet and tugging you into his arms. 

“Can’t have that, Mama,” he replied. “We need to get your bag?”

“Nope, traveled light. Or a light as you can when you’re huge.” 

“Darlin’.”

“Just have my carry-ons,” you plowed through, ignoring his stern tone. His hold tightened, and he pressed kisses into your hair. You weren’t the only one that had gotten bigger over the deployment. While he’d always been fit, you could tell he’d put on more muscle, and his stomach was firmer against your own. To put it plainly, your husband was hot as hell. And if you noticed the differences in his appearance, he was surely noticing your own. 

Of course, you’d sent him pictures throughout your pregnancy, so it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen your body's changes. But those pictures were carefully curated to be flattering. The weekly picture he requested of your bump was only taken after you’d gotten ready for work, hiding the worst of the stretchmarks on your stomach and breasts. Makeup concealed the bags under your eyes after sleepless nights pacing the house. It was almost comical to think about how self-conscious you’d been about your tiny bump that Jake had watched grow, given that Sloane had more than doubled in size since last seeing him. 

After three and a half months apart, you wanted to look your best for your husband. But instead of taking the time to do that, you’d only brushed your hair and teeth on the airplane, forgoing any makeup, and hurried through customs instead of stopping in the bathroom to freshen up. And you felt like crap and were exhausted after traveling for almost a day. The flight attendants were great, ensuring you had everything you needed. Your first-class seat was converted into a bed, but it wasn’t comfortable. The pillows you shoved under your belly while lying on your side hadn’t helped, as they were too flat. One of the flight attendants had rolled up blankets and suggested using those as a wedge under your stomach, which had helped some. But, per Dr. Shearer’s orders, you’d gotten up every hour to walk around to avoid blood clots and had to rearrange the blankets when you got back into bed. Sloane had also been restless, pressing on your bladder after you forced yourself to drink a lot of water to stay hydrated.  

Jake’s palms lifted to cup your face, leaning down to brush his lips to yours. “You look gorgeous. You always do, but now? Christ, darlin’.” His thumb traced your trembling bottom lip. His soft smile nearly broke you, and you tried to quiet your internal monologue, listing all the faults in your appearance. “Ready to get outta here?” 

“I should probably hit the restroom before we go,” you sighed, placing a hand on your stomach. Jake nodded, leaning down to kiss you before gently batting your hand away as you reached for your suitcase handle. His free hand took yours, raising it to brush his lips to your knuckles. 

Jake waited for you outside the bathroom, and you quickly did your business and studied your reflection in the mirror while washing your hands. The bags under your eyes were slightly less prominent with the excited flush in your cheeks. After drying your hands, you smoothed them over your stomach and took a deep breath. You felt a flutter in your belly and pressed against Sloane, “Ready to go see Daddy?” you said quietly. 

Green eyes met yours when you stepped out of the restroom, and Jake extended his hand. Drawing you in, he grinned against your mouth. “Can’t believe you’re really here,” he murmured. When his kisses bordered on indecent, you laughed and gently pushed him away.

“Remember we’re in public, Lieutenant,” you gently chided, tapping his nose. He smirked, leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

“Good thing we’ve got a hotel to go back to. Realized a few weeks ago that I can’t remember how you taste, which is unacceptable,” he drawled. Your breath caught at his whiskey voice, feeling heat flood your face as a different type of fluttering occurred in your stomach. Trailing his lips along your cheek, he pecked your lips and pulled away. A teasing smolder lit his green eyes as they ran the length of you, lingering on your belly and breasts before rising to meet your own. “Ready to go?” his voice was husky, and his grip on your suitcase tightened. Rather than answer, you held out a hand, feeling his fingers slide between your own. 

The taxi slowed as they neared the gate, and Jake was glad he’d asked for your ID as soon as you got into the car. The moment it had started moving, you’d leaned your head against his shoulder and fallen asleep. After wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tucking you close, he’d rested his head against yours and closed his eyes, his free hand on your belly. He couldn’t get enough of touching you and wanted more than anything to feel his daughter move. 

After the MP checked both IDs, the car pulled away from the guard shack. Jake kept his eyes open, blinking in the weak early morning sun. A tired smile tugged at his mouth when he looked down at you, and he gently ran his thumb under your eyes. You’d mentioned having trouble sleeping, but now he could see how tired you were. 

Your brow furrowed as the car turned into the Navy Lodge parking lot, and Jake chuckled. “Alright, sleepy girl,” he said softly, pressing kisses into your hair. “We’re here. Let’s go get our keys and go to bed, alright?” You groaned, nuzzling closer to him, and he chuckled again, meeting the taxi driver’s gaze in the mirror. The man quickly looked away as he pulled up to the hotel and got out to get the bags from the trunk. “C’mon, darlin’. Gotta open those pretty eyes for me.” After undoing his seat belt, he reached over you and unclipped yours, holding the belt away from your body when you let out a disgruntled little sigh, eyes slowly blinking open. “There’s my girl,” Jake cooed. “Let’s go get more comfortable, Mama.” 

You smiled sleepily, and Jake couldn’t resist kissing you. “Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he smiled. He held out his hands to help you from the car and grabbed all the bags when you reached for them. When you commented on taking your things, he shook his head. “You’re on vacation. Besides, you’re already carryin’ the most important thing.” He handled check-in while you relaxed on the couch and watched the bags, kneading the muscles in your lower back. “They’ve got breakfast if you want me to grab you something,” Jake said when he appeared at your side. 

“I’m fine for now, but we’ll want to grab some stuff for the room later,” you sighed, mentally preparing to push to your feet. 

“There’s a store across the parking lot, and the NEX and commissary are about a 10-minute drive, but the taxis are close.” Nodding, you scooted to the edge of the couch and braced your hands on your knees. When you stood, you noticed your husband was grinning. 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he replied before handing you the room keys and swinging his backpack over his shoulder. The room was on the second floor, and Jake made sure he was behind you as you climbed the stairs, one hand resting on your lower back. While you internally rolled your eyes at his overprotectiveness, you didn’t say anything to discourage him. It felt nice to have his hands on you again. 

The room was decent-sized, with a small kitchenette and two queen beds. The window faced Tokyo Bay, and you could see a few small boats bobbing in the morning tide. After tossing the bags onto the extra bed, Jake stood behind you as you gazed out the window, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. His lips grazed your temple as his palms rested on either side of your stomach. “I saw something and wanted to try it,” he said softly.

“A sexy something?” you asked, rolling your head onto his shoulder when his lips trailed down your throat.

“Not exactly.” His hands moved further down your body to curl around the hem of your sweater and drew it up. You grumbled a little when he encouraged your arms up so he could take it off. His attention turned to your leggings, and he rolled the waist down before tugging up your shirt so it was tucked under your breasts. Jake’s calloused palms slid down your stomach, and he knit his fingers together underneath your bump. His arms caged you in as he raised his hands, lifting Sloane. The relief was immediate, and you sagged back against him, letting out a moan as the weight disappeared and the tension left your back. Jake laughed, and you felt tears spring to your eyes. “That good?” 

“So good,” you breathed, swallowing hard when he kissed your cheek. 

“You alright, Mama?” he asked, concern lacing his voice when he saw the tears on your cheeks. “Does it hurt?” He started to lower your belly, but you quickly closed your hands over his. 

“Don’t you dare,” you breathed, loving the brief reprieve from the extra weight on your front and the feeling of his arms around you. “I just missed you.” Jake whispered your name, lifting Sloane again as he gently nudged you with his nose until your lips found his. 

“Miss you all the time,” he said softly against your mouth. You deepened the kiss, curling a hand around the back of his neck. 

And then Jake froze, eyes opening and meeting yours in wide-eyed awe. “Was that…” he asked. 

“Your daughter moving?” you nodded, feeling Sloane wiggle. Slowly, he lowered your belly - you bit back a groan at the weight now tugging you forward - and turned you around. His hands returned to your stomach, and he frowned when he felt nothing with his light touch. “Here,” you said, guiding his hand and pressing a bit harder.

“I don’t feel anything,” he sighed after a long minute. 

“I don’t either. She might be sleeping. What time is it at home?” Jake glanced at his watch and did the mental calculations to account for the 16-hour time difference. 

“About 3:00 PM yesterday.” 

“Give it a couple of hours,” you assured him. “She’s usually active around the time I get off work.” 

“You sure it’s not just that she doesn’t like me?” While his tone was joking, you could hear an undercurrent of worry in Jake’s words. “I’m just some stranger tryin’ to feel her, after all.”

Sighing, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, purposefully pressing your stomachs together. Resting your forehead against his, you guided his hand back to your belly. “You’re not a stranger. She goes crazy when we’re on the phone or a video call and she hears your voice. And she loves it when I’m on the flight line, and the jets are taking off or landing, just like her daddy. It’s just been a long day, and we’re both tired. But I promise you, your daughter loves you.”

Jake’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “I’m missing everything, darlin’. I hate that I - ” You cut him off with a kiss, his hands shifting to your hips when you rose onto your toes. The movement pushed you off-balance and forced him to take some of your weight, but you didn’t care - you trusted him enough to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. 

“I hate that you’re missing it too,” you panted against his mouth. “But at least we have this week, alright? I don’t want to spend it being sad.” Jake nodded, chasing your kiss when you landed on your feet. Gently pushing him away, you gripped your shirt and tugged it over your head, dropping it onto your discarded sweater. “Now, I’m gonna jump in the shower because I feel gross. Do you want to join me?” Forcing his gaze from your breasts, which were so much bigger than the last time he’d seen you, Jake nodded. “Good. Would you mind getting my toiletries for me?” When he nodded again, you smiled and moved past him, undoing the clasp of your bra and tossing it onto the bed. 

Careful to set the water to a reasonable temperature, you did your business and stepped under the spray, tilting your head back and letting out a soft groan. You were so sore. Even with the compression socks Dr. Shearer had recommended, your legs and ankles were swollen to the point of seeing the indents in your skin. Your hips and back hurt from trying to sleep on the plane. Your shoulders from wearing a bra for almost a day. On days like this, you wished you could enjoy an extra hot shower to soothe your tense muscles. Letting the water wash over your face, you rubbed your shoulders and rolled your neck. 

The curtain pulled back, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Jake stepping into the shower, toiletries in one hand. Taking a deep breath, you turned, holding out your hands for your things. Your face flushed when his eyes widened, taking in your naked body - stretch marks, swelling, and all. Forcing yourself not to cover up, you plucked the travel bottles from his hand and turned away to place them on the shelf. 

You felt him move closer, and then his hands on your hips encouraged you to face him. Jake licked his lips and smirked, drawing you from the shower spray and switching spots. He faced you as he tilted his head back into the water, arms bulging as he lifted his hands to scrub through his hair. Heat pooled low in your stomach as your eyes followed the water running down his chest and abs, the lines of his Adonis belt. His cock, hardening under your gaze. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of your naked husband, and his cocky grin let you know that he knew what he was doing. Jake reached for you again, maneuvering you under the spray. “Sorry, darlin’, I’ll stay outta your way,” he drawled. His eyes focused on your breasts and belly as he loosely gripped his dick and lazily stroked. You shifted, trying to ease some of the pressure between your legs. Biting your bottom lip, you forced yourself to turn away from him - as much as you wanted to fuck him, you needed to clean up first. “‘M surprised you didn’t make the water hotter. Usually have it scalding.”

“I’m not allowed,” you sighed, rolling your shoulders to try and loosen some of the tension. “Can’t have any temperature too hot. I hate it.” Jake moved closer to press himself against you. His big hands went to your shoulders, rubbing gently before his thumbs pressed harder at the base of your neck. You groaned, letting your head fall forward and eyes close. 

“Good?” His touch tiptoed the line between pain and pleasure, and you could only hum a response. Bracing a hand on the wall before you, you closed your eyes and pressed back into your husband’s touch. Too soon, his hands trailed down your spine, knuckles stroking lightly until he reached your lower back. He pushed hard, massaging the muscles of your back and hips, and you couldn't keep the loud moan from escaping. Jake chuckled. You struggled to keep your eyes open between his magical hands, the lukewarm water, and exhaustion. After a few minutes, you felt his palms slide around your hips and glide up your belly as he moved closer, gently pulling you upright. His breath was steady on your ear as he slowly explored your new shape, fingers tracing the reddened stretch marks and the dark line below your flattening belly button. You could feel his cock against your ass and shifted as his attention drifted upward to cup your breasts, arousal simmering in your veins. “This alright?” he asked, mouth pressed against your throat as he ran his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. Unable to speak, you nodded, reaching back to touch him. One hand trailed down your body, fingers dancing over your stomach to cup your core. “How ‘bout this?” You let out a shaky breath, widening your stance to allow him better access. “That’s my girl,” he rasped, parting your lower lips. “Wanna taste you so bad, darlin’, but I can wait. Wanna feel you cum on my cock, but I think I’ll settle for you on my hand for now. Gotta be more careful, now, darlin’.” 

“J-Jake,” you stuttered as he sank a finger into you. Your head fell back against his shoulder, hand curling around the back of his neck to play with his wet hair. His hand left your breast to curve around your jaw, tilting your face closer so he could kiss you. His lips were rough, tongue plundering. He swallowed your gasp as he added a second finger, his thumb finding your clit with ease. 

“So fuckin’ tight.”

“Fuck me,” you pleaded. “Want your - ” He curled his fingers to pet your g-spot, cutting you off with a choked gasp. 

“Gotta work up to that, darlin’,” he chuckled. “Been neglecting my pretty pussy for too long. You been using the toy I bought you?” Unable to speak, you nodded. “Good. Read somethin’ about pregnancy hormones makin’ mamas hornier than usual, and wouldn’t want you to go without.” 

“You read a lot about pregnancy hormones?” you asked, then whined when he withdrew his fingers. Your hand shot down to cover his when he pulled away. 

“Don’t worry, darlin’ - not gonna leave my girl hangin’.” Instead, he tugged you away from the spray and backed you against the shower wall. The tile was cold against your heated skin, and you tried to move forward, but Jake boxed you in. With one hand by your head, his other went back between your legs. His mouth covered yours, panting as you grasped his cock. He thrust into your hand, synchronizing with his fingers in your pussy. You ground down on his hand as he trailed kisses down your throat, licking the water from your tits before sucking on your nipple.

The sensation set you off, and you clapped a hand over your mouth as your moans echoed in the bathroom. Jake continued his ministrations as you came, fingers pumping as he switched to your other breast. When it became too much, you tugged him up and kissed him, feeling his grin against your mouth. He pulled away only long enough to lick his fingers clean before he kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself. 

You could feel his dick twitch against your thigh and reached for him, but he caught your hand, shaking his head, “Not yet, sweetheart.” Ignoring your whine, he led you back under the shower spray. His hands were gentle as he washed your hair, massaging your scalp and trading lazy kisses. You held onto his shoulders when he went to his knees to wash your legs, kneading your calves and tracing the lines the compression socks had imprinted on your skin. Once satisfied that you were taken care of, Jake quickly washed himself, eyes alight with teasing as he watched you watching him. 

Your patience snapped as he dried you off, and you snatched the towel from his hands and threw it onto the floor. Tugging him back into the bedroom, you perched on the edge of the bed and reached for him. Jake grinned, lowering you onto the mattress as he kissed you. But then you grimaced. “Shit,” he hissed, pulling back quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said, bracing your hand on the bed. “Just kinda uncomfortable being on my back.” Glancing over at the other bed, you pointed. “Grab me one of those pillows.” Jake scrambled to get it as you sat up and moved toward the head of the bed. When he extended the pillow, you took it and positioned it under your hips, wiggling as you laid back down. “Much better.” 

“You sure?” He still looked skeptical as you reached for him and nodded. 

“Positive. Unless…” You tried to push down the wave of self-consciousness as he watched you. “Unless you don’t want to?” Jake sighed, crawling across the bed to hover over you, ensuring he kept most of his weight off you. 

“Mama,” he breathed, leaning down to nip at your lips. “I’ve dreamed about this.” 

“How’s reality stacking up?” You sighed when he ran his cock along your entrance, gasping when he tapped it against your clit. 

“So, so much better.” His mouth covered yours, swallowing your moans as he slowly pressed in, inch by glorious inch. Jake’s arms shook by your head when he bottomed out, his breath stuttering as you squeezed him. “Fuck, darlin’, feel so fuckin’ good.” You had to stretch to kiss him, curling a leg over his hips to encourage him to move. 

“Please,” you panted. “Jake, I need - ”

“I’ve gotcha, honey.” Setting a languid pace, bracing himself on an elbow, he reached between you and circled your clit. The extra pressure on your stomach made your back twinge, but you ignored it as your husband played with you, trailing his lips along your neck and shoulders, peppering your face with kisses. Too soon, you came, clenching around him as his rhythm stuttered. He grunted your name against your throat, pausing until you lifted your hips to encourage him to keep going. 

Sitting back on his heels, Jake looked down at you before his eyes fixed on where you were joined. His hips started to move again, and you scrambled to grasp the sheets as he thumbed your clit. “Can’t,” you gasped. 

“Yes, you can, pretty girl,” he growled, angling so every thrust hit just right. “Just one more for me, darlin’.” The combination of his fingers and cock was deadly, but when his eyes finally met yours, you couldn’t hold back. Jake hurriedly leaned down to cover you as you shook, kissing you hard as he finally came. 

You stayed like that, trading tired kisses until lying on your back became too uncomfortable. Jake slipped out of bed to retrieve a washcloth as you curled on your side. After he cleaned you up, he handed you pillows to put under your stomach before sliding into bed behind you. His fingers twined with yours, wedding rings sliding against one another before he rested your hands against your belly. “Just gonna nap,” you promised, pressing back against him and feeling his nod. “Need to get on the time zone.” 

“Just a nap,” he agreed, lips grazing your shoulder. “So happy you’re here, Mama.” 

“Me too, Daddy,” you yawned.

The day flew by too quickly. As much as you wanted nothing more than to spend it in bed with your husband, you eventually forced yourself to leave the hotel. Together, you explored Yokoska, your husband indulging you as you browsed 100 yen and stationery stores, listening to your reminiscing about buying gel pens and trading Hello Kitty and Bad Batz-Maru paper over lunch in elementary school. When you pulled him into candy stores, he said nothing and helped fill a basket with your childhood favorites. When you squealed in delight at finding a vending machine selling a grape drink you remembered loving as a kid, Jake couldn’t help but laugh while digging out the yen to get it for you. He wasn’t a fan of the little pieces of white grape in it and chose to finish the melon soda you’d already opened instead. 

Jake quickly got a taxi and returned to the base at the first sign of you getting tired. While you napped at his insistence, he walked to the store to pick up a few things for the room. You woke to the sound of him loading water bottles into the refrigerator and shoving snacks into the cabinets. When he joined you in bed, lying on top of the covers, his hands went unerringly to your stomach. “Hey,” you whispered, covering his hand with yours.

“Hey,” he replied, kissing the back of your neck. “How was your nap?”

“Would have been better with you. I hate that I’m so tired.” 

“I figured you would be. You had a long day.” 

“I don’t like wasting our time.” 

“Not wastin’ it if you’re relaxing.” Sighing, you rolled to face him, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled, leaning forward to kiss you. “We don’t have to do anything while you’re here. I’ll cancel all the plans, and we can stay like this the whole time.” 

“You want to spend your first time off the ship in months just staying in this room?”

“If that’s what you want, definitely. Just wanna take care of you, Mama. You and Sloane.” 

Rolling your eyes, you pushed onto an elbow. “Spending our whole trip in bed sounds like fun, but I need some stories to tell people when I get home.”

“We can make those up,” he teased, looking up at you as his hand rested on your hip, fingers bunching in the bedding. Shaking your head, you kissed him, tongue teasing the seam of his lips until he opened for you. 

It didn’t take long for your clothes to land on the floor, Jake’s hands roaming your body as you rode him. 

Rooster and Mav met you in the lobby of the Lodge the following day, and you tried not to blush when they inevitably made comments about how big you were and congratulated you on having a little girl. Jake’s arm was around your waist, his fingers lightly resting on your stomach. Together, the four of you took the hour train into Tokyo, and the three aviators caught you up on their deployment while you shared what was happening in Lemoore. 

The city was much bigger and busier than you remembered as a kid. It was a change from your sleepy California home, and you felt a slight pang of longing for city life that was quickly stifled when you looked at your husband. Sure, you’d always imagined living in a bustling city, but if you hadn’t accepted the promotion and transferred to Lemoore, you wouldn’t have found Jake. As if sensing your thoughts, his hand squeezed yours, and he smiled down at you as you browsed a store. “Love you,” you said softly, disentangling your fingers and guiding his hand to where you could feel your daughter moving. Jake’s eyes lit up, turning to face you as he felt the subtle movement beneath your skin.  

While you felt you were slowing the men down, they didn’t say anything when you had to find a place to sit or a restroom. Together, you visited temples and gardens before venturing into Harajuku. The shopping district was crowded, and you were happy to lean against your husband as he lifted your belly, feeding him bits of a crepe over your shoulder while Mav and Rooster looked for souvenirs. Excited by the sugary treat but unhappy with the intrusion on her space, Sloane squirmed in her father’s hands. 

Jake didn’t have liberty on Wednesday and had to be back on the carrier by midnight, so you left Tokyo in the early afternoon and boarded the train back to Yokosuka. The gentle shaking lulled you into a trance, and Jake guided your head onto his shoulder as his arm went around you, encouraging you to sleep. He forced himself to focus on the conversation Rooster and Mav were having as your hand rested high on his inner thigh, your wrist brushing his throbbing cock with every sway of the train. Later, after a dinner on base and a quick shower, he massaged your swollen legs and sore feet before curling up behind you. His hand went around your mouth as he fucked you so sweetly and deeply that you couldn’t help the loud noises you made. After, he touched your stomach, simultaneously fascinated and terrified when you had Braxton-Hicks contractions. At your final check-up before the trip, Dr. Shearer had made sure you knew the difference between them and active labor and when to head to the hospital, a knowing look in her eyes.

Reluctantly, as midnight neared, Jake crawled out of bed and took a quick shower. You could see the concern in his eyes when he caught you shifting from the cramps as he dressed and made you swear to call him if you needed anything. He tucked you into bed, ensuring the pillows were positioned just right, before kissing you and Sloane goodnight. With one final check that your purse sat on the stack of medical records you’d brought ‘just in case’ to make both your doctor and husband happy, he left. 

Mav and Rooster had invited you for another outing to Tokyo the next day, but you declined. A lazy day hanging around the base sounded like heaven. It was a cool day with rain threatening, but you didn’t mind. You debated going to see a movie but found the theater was closed. Instead, you took a taxi to Kosano Park and looked out at the bay, munching on McDonald’s fries before walking to the NEX. Being on base brought back memories of living overseas as a kid, and you felt a pang of regret that your daughter wouldn’t have the same experience. She would never dread shopping for school clothes on base, sure that everyone would wear the same thing, or experience the month-long trips back to the States where you would spend days shopping. With that thought, you walked next door to the commissary to pick up some stuff for the room and a few things for Jake to bring back onto the ship. It felt so nice to be shopping for both of you again that you had to pause in the chip aisle and take a few breaths when tears threatened to overwhelm you. 

You were propped up in bed, eating yogurt-covered pretzels and sipping on a water bottle, watching a sitcom when the door opened just after midnight. Jake smiled tiredly, an eyebrow raised at the sight of you eating in bed before shaking his head and dropping his bag to lie beside you, his head in your lap. While running your fingers through his hair, he told you about the admin work he’d been doing all day while you caught him up on your activities. His nose brushed your stomach before he tugged down the blanket and pushed up your shirt to kiss your skin. You shifted, flushing at his hot breath so close to where you wanted him. Jake looked up at you and raised an eyebrow again. 

“They weren’t kidding about pregnancy hormones,” he panted, holding onto your hips as your fingers curled into the sheets of the spare bed that he’d had bent you over. It had taken some convincing and swearing that you hadn’t had any actual contractions at all and a quick chat about orgasms causing Braxton-Hicks for him to agree to touch you. Unsatisfied by his hand, you’d gotten out of bed and stripped, reminding him that you owed him a video for being right about having a girl. His legs had gotten tangled in the sheets, and he nearly fell to the floor while grabbing his phone while you laughed. But that laugh had died on your lips as he cooed about how sexy you were, a hand between your shoulders gently pressing you down, setting a hard and fast pace. You whined as he pinched your clit, leaning forward to hiss and get a shot of your fucked out expression on camera. “Don’t think I forgot about our agreement of no crumbs in bed.” 

To make it up to him, you woke him up the next morning, slowly pulling down the blankets to stroke his cock and, once he was awake, kneeling on the floor between his spread thighs and blowing him. 

Jake surprised you with dinner reservations for Thanksgiving the next day at the Officer’s Club. To kill time, you took the ferry to Sarushima Island and explored the fortified pathways and old bunkers. The ocean was cool when you walked along the shore, feeling the coral sand between your toes, thinking about the last time you’d walked along the beach together in San Diego and picking out baby names. 

“If we have a boy later, what do you think about still using the name Oliver James?” you asked. Jake stopped walking, eyebrows high over his sunglasses as he smirked.

“Already thinkin’ about having another one?” he teased, stepping before you to tug you into his arms. 

“I mean,” you shrugged, looping your arms around his neck. “We’ll see how it goes when this one makes her appearance. Maybe she’ll traumatize us to the point where we never want to touch -” 

“Don’t talk about my little girl like that,” Jake playfully chided, lightly smacking your ass before leaning down to kiss you. “Besides, it’d take a whole hell of a lot for me to never wanna touch you.” 

Rooster and Mav joined you at dinner, sharing stories about their trip to Yokohama. It was fun to hear them trade stories about the deployment and to hear Rooster’s perspective of what Jake was like at their first base. When Jake and Rooster went up to get second helpings, you were able to chat with Mav for a minute and ask how your husband was doing. The older man glanced over his shoulder at the younger aviators before reaching for your hand and squeezing it.

“It’s hard,” he admitted, “especially when his parents…” You felt goosebumps rise at the mention of your in-laws. Taking Jake’s lead, you hadn’t outreached Sarah once they left the house. After a challenging conversation with Lina where she’d accused you of lying about her father’s behavior, you hadn’t spoken again. Jake mentioned his sister was angry with him, but he didn’t care. You knew she was still following you on social media so the Seresins would be informed about your trip and see the pictures you posted. “But he’s okay.” 

On Jake’s last day of liberty, you reluctantly agreed to take the 40-minute train to Enoshima. As pretty as the shrines and sea caves were, you wanted nothing more than to be closed up in your hotel room with your husband. He paid the fees to take the escalators up the tree-topped hills so you could admire the views of the Pacific Ocean and distant Mt. Fuji. It was a surprise to see a fence decorated with padlocks, and after using an app to translate the signs, you realized you were at a place called Lover’s Hill. A bell hung in a little stand, the placard stating that if a couple rang it, they would be together forever. You set your phone up on the provided photo stand, snapping a picture of the two of you tugging the bellrope with Sagami Bay glistening behind you. When Jake went into a small store to grab you a melon soda and water, he returned with a lock and sharpie. He wrote your names on it before taking your hand, leading you back to the fence, and pointing out a spot for you to lock it. 

At the Navy Lodge, Jake tried to encourage you to pack your suitcase, but you refused. He was due back on the carrier at midnight again, and you didn’t want to spend a minute of that precious time thinking about flying back home the next day. Still, tears gathered in your eyes as he started to clear out the kitchenette, putting your candy in a pile while shoving the snacks into a plastic bag for him to take back to the carrier. You watched him from the bed, biting your lip to keep from sobbing. When he turned to offer you a bottle of cold water, he sighed your name. 

The clock was your enemy as Jake undressed you, his lips caressing every inch of skin he uncovered. With a pillow under your hips, he guided you to lay down as he kissed and licked his way down to the cradle of your thighs. Deliberate and slow, he brought you to the very precipice of pleasure before backing off, savoring your taste and whimpering moans. Again and again, your husband toyed with you until you had to switch positions when you started to hurt. It took some convincing for you to straddle his face, clinging to the headboard for balance, but Jake’s soft pleading and cajoling eventually had you grinding against his mouth as his fingers dug into your thighs.  

Dinner was a quick affair - burgers that Jake ran across the parking lot to grab from a chain restaurant while you begrudgingly checked into your flight and started to pack. Trying to keep the mood light, he joked that he was happy to finally cross off a french fry run off his Daddy Bucket List, and you quickly ducked into the bathroom to hide your tears. You turned on the sink tap to hide your sniffles, but Jake was waiting outside the bathroom and folded you into his arms when you opened the door. “‘M sorry, darlin’,” he whispered against your hair. 

As much as you wanted to focus on enjoying those last few hours together, Jake pulled you onto the bed and handed you a stack of printed papers. Standing before you, he ran a hand through his hair as you flipped through them. He explained that he needed to update his base dream sheet in case he got orders soon and wanted to discuss them with you. Though his tone was even, you could detect an undercurrent of anxiety in his words, and you looked up at him. “So, what do you think the timeline is?” you asked. 

“I dunno. I just… have this gut feeling that it’s gonna be within the next year.” 

You sighed and set the papers beside you, threading your fingers through his belt loops and tugging him closer. Resting your chin against his flat stomach, you looked up at him, “As long as it’s not within the next five months, it’ll be fine. I really don’t want to deal with a PCS with a newborn.” 

“You’d be okay with leaving your job?” he asked tentatively, tracing the curve of your cheek. Frowning, you pulled away from his touch.

“Are you saying you want me to stay in Lemoore?” you asked, a hint of hurt coloring your voice. 

“No! No, of course not,” Jake quickly answered. “I just… Are you going to be okay if we move?” Heaving a sigh, you grabbed his left hand and tapped on his wedding ring.

“I knew that was part of the deal when we married, babe. Do I want to leave my job? No. I like the work and the people I work with. But I love you, and - for now - your career is going to be the one that makes decisions for our family.” Jake swallowed hard before burying his free hand in your hair and tugging gently so your head tipped back. His mouth covered yours, nipping at your lips as he tried to lower you onto the bed. But you braced your palm on the mattress and resisted, chuckling against his lips when he grunted. Shaking your head, you reached for his jeans, quickly undoing the button and dragging down the zipper. 

Leaning against the headboard, Jake whimpered as you sank down onto his cock, hands clasped around your hips. He could feel you clench around him and let his head fall back, grunting when you refused to move. “Darlin’,” he pleaded.

“Nope, not until we get this dream sheet filled out,” you breathed, fighting your own urge to move. Instead, you grabbed the discarded pile of papers and a pen from your purse. Resting them against his shoulder, you started to read off the bases he’d put as his top choices back when he was single. Jake found it hard to concentrate as you debated the merits of each base. But as much as you pretended you weren’t affected, he could see the pulse fluttering in your throat and feel you clench around him when his hands roamed your thighs and ass. When his hands ventured higher to cup your breasts, your head lolled back as he ran his thumbs along your tender nipples. “Back on task, Seresin,” you panted. 

“‘M a great multitasker,” he promised. You laughed, and he groaned as you rocked against him, hips lifting to thrust into you. But you shook your head, setting the papers on the bed and covering his hands with your own. The movement made him moan, and you chuckled, lifting his hands and guiding them to curl around the top of the headboard. 

“You’re the one who decided to wait until the last minute to have this conversation, Lieutenant. Now, don’t move those hands until I say so.” It was torture, he decided, trying to talk about your future as you warmed him, squeezing him anytime you felt he wasn’t paying attention. Most of the time, he loved how thorough and logical you were, but at that moment, he would have been happy with whatever random base the Navy decided to send him to. Finally, Jake felt the pen drag across his skin when you propped the papers on his chest to write the new ranking - Lemoore at the top with San Diego after, but including a few bases in Florida and even leaving Iwakuni, Japan on the list. 

His head fell back, and he swallowed hard when you leaned to place the papers and pen on the nightstand. Chuckling, you licked his Adam’s apple while taking his hands from the headboard. But when you guided them back to your breasts, he shook his head, a sly smirk crossing his mouth. “Had your chance, darlin’,” he murmured, shaking off your hold and resting his hands on your knees that bracketed his hips. His calloused palms glided up your thighs, one circling your hip while the other slid between your legs. Jake pressed his thumb to your clit but didn’t move. “Now you’re gonna have to work for it.” 

The unspoken order was clear, and you pouted. “You’d make you poor, tired, pregnant wife - ”

“Absolutely,” he cut you off. “Especially when she’s being a tease. You wanna come, you’re gonna work for it.” 

“On our last night together?” Jake nearly caved when you leaned forward to kiss him. Your words reminded him that he only had hours left until he wouldn’t see you again for two and a half months. But when you smirked against his mouth when he circled your clit, his resolve firmed. Pulling away, he leaned against the headboard while landing a loud slap to your ass. You jolted, clenching around him, and he groaned. 

“Clock’s tickin’, Mama,” he managed to say, looking down his nose at you. You sighed, rising onto your knees and sinking down onto his cock. You both moaned, and Jake’s free hand returned to the top of the headboard as he fought the urge to help you. The only help Jake gave was the consistent pressure on your clit and the litany of praise and encouragement that fell from his lips - “Feel so fuckin’ good, baby. Just like that. Liked that, hmm? Do it again. Can feel that you’re close.” 

When you finally came, Jake kissed your temple as you collapsed against him, his hands sweeping your skin as he told you how much he loved you. Gently, he encouraged you onto your knees and turned you around, lifting your hips. Your cries were muffled in your folded arms and blankets as he fucked you from behind, thrusting hard enough to punch the air from your lungs. Glancing behind you, you were mesmerized by the sight of his muscles moving beneath his skin, highlighted by the stream of sunset through a gap in the curtains. Your husband grinned as he met your gaze, one hand leaving your hip to run a soothing hand down your spine.

Hit with a horrible sense of deja vu, you refused to close your eyes when Jake tried to get you to relax after a shared shower. His hands drifted over your skin, mapping every curve and divot before pressing lightly when the baby made herself known. He shifted down the bed to press his forehead to your stomach, stroking softly as he murmured his love to his daughter, promising he would be home soon. As usual, when she heard her Daddy, it felt like Sloane was doing cartwheels in your belly. Jake’s grin was worth every bit of discomfort as you threaded your fingers through his hair, savoring the moment for the three of you. 

With less than an hour until the taxi came, you watched as Jake checked the room to ensure all his stuff was packed away. His bags sat by the door, ready for the moment he had to go downstairs and return to the port. With his last check completed, he joined you in the kitchenette, where you sipped a water bottle, boxing you in against the counter. Setting it aside, you wrapped your arms around him and felt him kiss your forehead. “Just a couple more weeks,” he said softly. 

“More than halfway done,” you nodded. Jake lightly tugged your hair, encouraging you to look up at him. 

“It’s gonna fly by.”

“February will be here before you know it.” 

“We’ll have so much to celebrate then.”

“Not sure I’ll be in celebrating shape by that point,” you said, attempting a teasing tone that fell flat. “Can’t have sex for at least six weeks after giving birth.” Jake chuckled, stepping closer so your stomach pressed against his. 

“Worth it.” You nodded, swallowing hard against the tears that threatened to fall. “Talked to my CO, and he’ll make sure I’ve got a private space to be on a call with you when…”

“What happens if you’re in the air when I go into labor?”

“The tower’ll let me know, and I’ll land as soon as possible and call you.” Blowing out a breath, you met his solemn green eyes and forced a smile.

“I’ll make sure my laptop and charger are in my hospital bag.” You watched as the sadness crept into his gaze and his brow furrowed against yours. “It’ll be okay,” you promised. His touch was calculated as he slowly stripped you of your clothes, fingers caressing your bare skin as he kissed you. After he kicked away the jeans and boxers pooling at his feet, you palmed his cock before his hand wrapped around your knee, keeping you steady as he encouraged you to wrap it around his hip. Holding you there, he slowly pressed into you, swallowing your gasps and sighs as he rocked against you.

The front desk called at 11:35 PM to inform you that the taxi had arrived. Jake tried to get you to stay in the room, but you refused. After tossing his things into the back seat, he pulled you into his arms and kissed you hard. “Love you, darlin’.”

“Love you too. Be safe.”

“You too. Both of you.” He dropped to his knee and pressed his forehead to your stomach. “Be good for Mama, Sloane. I’ll be home soon.” You felt him push your shirt up just enough to brush his lips to your skin. 

“Go before I start crying,” you whispered against his mouth when he kissed you again. He nodded, dropping his head to rest his forehead against yours. “I love you, Jacob Michael Seresin.” You felt his smile as he said your full name.

“‘M so glad we aren’t friends,” he chuckled, and you laughed, standing on your toes to kiss him. 

“Me too. So much better being your wife.” 

As the taxi drove away, you lifted a hand and waved. Jake smiled at you from the backseat and blew you a kiss. 

The house seemed empty when you finally made it home. Javy carried your bags to the bedroom while you darted into the bathroom. The plane had hit bad turbulence on the flight home, and you still felt nauseous. You kept that information to yourself when replying to Jake’s text while standing in line for Customs, instead telling him it was smooth.

As tired as you were, it was hard to sleep that night without the sound of your husband’s soft snoring and his hands on you. Sloane seemed restless as well, moving more than normal at night.

“I know,” you sighed, pressing a hand to where she’d kicked you. “I miss Daddy too.” 

February couldn’t come soon enough. 

----------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Jake and Darlin' got their babymoon 🥹 I had a lot of fun writing this chapter - my family wasn't at Yokosuka, but we did live in Japan for 9 years when I was growing up. Guess who didn't realize that Johnny Rockets was an American burger chain until they were 16 since I'd only gone in Tokyo? Yeah... good times...

Though I can't tag her here, May deserves credit for helping me with this chapter and making sure I didn't go too far into the body image angst.

Read Chapter 20

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[froggibus]

Rose Quartz - Venture

Pairing: Venture x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, bit of crack, one droplet of angst

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: in which Venture wants to confess their feelings for you, but keeps giving you rocks instead

CW: awkwardness, crushes, kind of unrequited love, mentions of crystals/rocks and their meanings, Venture avoiding their feelings, one (1) argument, aggressive kissing, reader calls Venture "nerd", NOT PROOFREAD

NEW BANNERS!!! IM SO EXCITED!! ive been wanting a more cohesive graphic for my posts rather than just reusing gifs, so I made these and I adore them!! first time writing about Venture and tbh it's a little juvenile but it kinda works with the theme. they're so adorable and i absolutely love them ^.^ (also happy canadian moment that they gave us an interesting canadian hero finally lol)

“Hey! Y/n! Wait up!” Heavy boots trail after Sloan’s voice, prompting you to turn around. 

“What’s up?”

They give you a toothy grin, holding up a hand to pause while they catch their breath. It’s a hot day in Petra, nearly scorching with all of the gear you have on just to enter the dig site. Even standing in the sun is enough to have you panting and sweaty. 

Sloan releases one last heavy breath and closes the last few steps between the two of you. “I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

They’re so close you can see the sweat shimmering across their brow, smelling that familiar earthy scent of theirs that you’ve thought about for weeks now. The sun beats down overhead and you’re sure they must be boiling under their safety equipment. 

You cock your head to the side, “what is it?”

“I just—I’ve been thinking for a while, you know? And I really thought that maybe—is it really hot out here? I’m really hot.”

You nod in agreement, cupping your hands around your eyes to block out the sun. You were just on your way back to the shuttle to your hotel room when they caught you, and you have little interest in staying in this heat. 

“I should probably get going,” you admit, “it’s boiling and I need to eat.”

Sloan agrees all too quickly. “Yeah, yeah. I—I just wanted to know,” they loose a sigh, “do you want this rock?”

You’re taken aback for only a moment as they reach out a sweaty palm with a jagged pink crystal no bigger than a dollar coin. You reach out and grab it, your fingertips brushing their hand as you do. Sloan doesn’t miss the way you shiver from the contact. 

“It’s pretty, what is it?”

Sloan scratches the back of their neck. “It’s rose quartz, I just thought you might find it pretty or something…”

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You tuck the rock into your pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…see you tomorrow.”

Sloan watches as you spin on your heel and slowly disappear into the horizon. As soon as you’re out of eyesight, they let themselves sigh in disappointment and drop to their knees. 

Confessing is much harder than they thought it would be. 

—

You hold the rose quartz the whole shuttle ride to the hotel, rolling the cold stone across your aching palms. It really is a beautiful stone, even if it serves as a physical reminder of your own disappointment. 

You thought, just for a moment, that they might feel the same way as you. That they were going to ask you on a date, at least. But you’ve thought that the past few weeks, and it’s only bred chagrin. 

The cold air of your hotel room doesn’t feel nearly as nice as it should. Your skin still feels sticky, a layer of dust stuck to the sweat from the sweltering sun you spent the day under. But it’s not the sweat or the dust that has you feeling withdrawn—it’s the sight of the stones lining your night table. 

You place the rose quartz at the end of a line of eight stones, admiring them all together. It’s a beautiful array of clear, pink and green stones. Some are smooth—like they’ve already been tumbled—and others are jagged, found raw and expertly cut from the rock they once formed in. 

Your favourite, given to you just a few days ago, was a raw piece of rhodochrosite. Sloan had a big grin when they gave it to you, the stone warm from them holding it in their palm for so long.

You roll the stone in your palm for only a moment before ordering your usual room service, shrugging off your clothes and going to take a shower. The cold water feels amazing on your skin, washing the heat and shame of the day down the drain. For the time you’re in the shower, you hardly even think about Sloan or the collection of rocks starting to accumulate. 

You only get out when your phone buzzes with the usual courtesy notification letting you know the room service cart is on its way up to you. The air conditioning feels much better after showering, chilling the bite of your skin. You dress quickly in pyjamas and get to the door just in time to let in the kind lady with your dinner.

It’s the same woman as the last few nights—an older lady with a dazzling smile that she flashes at you as she crosses the threshold into your room.

“Same as usual?” She prompts while she lays out the dishes on the small table in the corner.

“You know it.”

She finishes laying out your spread, the delicious scent nearly making your mouth water, before grabbing the cart and starting to back out of the room. She pauses just as she gets past your nightstand, her eyes flicking over the array of stones.

“Well, aren’t those pretty.” You smile in agreement, “they are, aren’t they?”

“Lots of love stones,” she says. “Were they gifted to you?”

“Love stones?”

“Yes,” she nods, “like rose quartz, and rhodochrosite. They represent love in certain practices.”

The information is like a slap in the face, leaving you so dazed that you forget to thank the woman as she leaves your room. Love stones? Why would Sloan be giving you love stones?

You’re near frantic as you collect all of the stones into your hand, forgetting your shoes as you burst out of your hotel room and storm down the hall to Sloan’s. You’re not sure if they’re even back from the site yet, or what you’ll say to them when you get to their room—all you’re sure of is that you want to know why they gave you the stones. The real reason.

Sloan is utterly confused when they open their door to see you there, hair wet and dressed in pyjamas with no shoes, holding out a handful of rocks. “Hi?”

“Why did you give these to me?”

Sloan swallows, dark eyes examining the stones clutched in your palm. “I just thought you’d like them.” A lie, a complete and utter lie.

They curse themselves for being such a coward and not confessing sooner—but you’re just so cute, and they like you so much, and they felt so damn awkward trying to tell you they liked you. Except now, with you standing so close to them, water dripping from your hair and rendering your pyjama top near see-thru, they feel much more awkward.

“Just because you thought I’d like them?” You’re breathing hard, eyebrows knit together in confusion, “or because they’re apparently ‘love stones’, whatever that means.”

From the way their mouth hangs open, you know you’ve caught them.

“Listen, I—I—”

You cut them off, “did you know what the meanings were when you gave them to me?”

“Yes,” they sigh defeatedly. “But I thought you knew!”

“Of course I didn’t know!”

Sloan peers down the hall, hoping no one is around to hear your rising voices. “Why don’t you come in?”

“Why? So you can keep leading me in circles, so I can keep wondering why you don’t feel the same way as I do?” The words come out before you can stop them, even the hand you clamp over your mouth doing nothing to keep them in.

Sloan’s shoulders sag. “I wasn’t leading you in circles.”

“Weren’t you?” You shake your head, turning away from them. “You just wanted to hide behind a bunch of rocks forever.”

“Y/n, wait!”

You shake your head, starting to walk away. You don’t get far, as Sloan grabs your shoulder and spins you to face them. You have no time to react as they grab the back of your head and shove your face into theirs.

The second their lips meet yours, all of the built up disappointment from the past few weeks melts away. You relax into their touch, letting their calloused fingers tangle in your hair. They taste citrusy, over just a hint of salt, and electrify you like a shot of tequila.

You pull away breathlessly, looking at them over your lashes. They’re smirking like an idiot, eyes practically sparkling.

“Still think I’m leading you in circles?”

You rest your hand on their waist, pulling them back to you in desperation. “Shut up and kiss me again, nerd.”

overwatch masterlist | masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[yanderetheumbrellaacademy]

When They Get Jealous

Summary: What happens when they someone flirting with you and they get jealous? Characters: Luther Hargreeves, Diego Hargreeves & Lila Pitts, Allison Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves, Five Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves, Viktor Hargreeves, Marcus Hargreeves, Sparrow! Ben Hargreeves, Fei Hargreeves, Sloane Hargreeves, Jayme Hargreeves Tw: Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Su!c!dal indications

Luther Hargreeves

Kind of insecure

He's also angry and crushes whatever he's holding in his hands

He's surprised when looking down at the crushed item

Then he becomes annoyed

He'll go to the bathroom to clean up and you'll quickly follow him

"Are you okay?"

He's surprised by your presence and the fact that you followed him

He'll then feel bad about his feelings before

You would never hurt him and he knows that, so why would he even feel that way? You've never done anything to justify that feeling

"Um... Nothing, I accidently- uh, crushed this thing- You know... Strength issues..."

You'll help him clean up/patch up and it makes Luther guilty and he momentarily forgets about the previous feeling... At least until next time

Deigo Hargreeves & Lila Pitts

What a duo

Lila definitely filled Diego's head with delusions and will convince him to do something stupid [Like kill the person flirting w/ you] while she hides the body

Lila takes it better, but inside she's more pissed than Diego

Diego is mad at you and won't talk to you. You'll have to profusely apologize and prove to him you care, otherwise he won't speak to you. Trust, he can hold a grudge

Lila, on the other hand, is very extroverted and will go over to where you are and talk to the person who was flirting with you

There's is definitely tension in the air, even though it doesn't show on her face

She's all smiles and happy, but it doesn't show in her eyes

Deigo is mad, but Lila sees it as an opportunity to manipulate you [She also wants a reason to kill somone]

You try and talk back and she'll bring up how sad it makes them when people flirt with you and she'll emotionally manipulate into feeling bad

You didn't like the person but... maybe she's right? I mean- you didn't exactly tell the person no or that you were taken, but you had asked them to stop.... Was that enough?

Allison Hargreeves

Oh, no no no nononononono

She is NOT letting that happen

The person who's flirting with you must have a death wish

She doesn't want to use her powers, but...

Well, she really has to fight the urge

She looks very sweet and kind, so she can just come into the conversation and play nice girl

She'll drag you off, talking about needing your help or something, while apologizing for taking you away [But she doesn't really mean it]

You won't even notice she's mad until you're alone

She'll accuse you of cheating or trying to leave her

You're taken by surprise, but don't even try and fight her, because she's in a very low/depressive state, so she'd be easy to push into doing something drastic

So, you'll have to wait until she feels better to confront her

Klaus Hargreeves

They already assume you don't love them, so this just fills this delusion they have

It really bums them out and they get super depressed

They get extra clingy whenever they get you alone

They're usually pretty clingy, so you don't think about it to much

Until, they start whining about the guy at the bar

They'll ask you if you like them [Flirter] more than them [Klaus]

You'll tell them no, but they don't believe you

They'll emotion manipulate you saying that you probably hate them and if you ever leave them, they'll kill themselves

Five Hargreeves

Someone flirting with you? Do they have a death wish??

Not afraid to kill a man or women. He doesn't care

The only issue is he'd never admit his jealousy. You have to confront him and at first he'll deny it, but if you keep pushing he'll get pissed and yell 'You know what- I am jealous! So what!?!'

You're surprised he admitted it, but that's the only time you're getting it

He'll deny saying it and gaslight you into thinking it never happened

He will kill them, he just needs a little time, which he has plenty of

It is bloody, gory and gruesome

No one will find the body, but he'll make sure you know the person is dead and it's all your fault

He'll make sure you never do it again because he hates this feeling and it bothers the hell out of him

Ben Hargreeves

He wasn't really having fun at the party, so when seeing someone hit on you, it just made his night worse

He's scared you'll realize that he's not good enough

He hates the icky feeling in his stomach and it only continues to grow

Though it does make the feeling subside when seeing you roll your eyes and push the person out of the way before heading towards him

It makes him giddy and smile; Like a school boy

The fact that you'd chose him over everyone else really fuels his obsession, so be warned

When you get to him, you complain about the person

"Did you see them?"

He'll pretend that he wasn't paying attention and you gasp, before sitting down and ranting about how stupid that person was

He practically has hearts in his eyes and he looks at you like you're the only person in the world, which to him you are

Viktor Hargreeves

He's annoyed, but he's not going to do anything drastic [Or at least he tries]

He wants to do something, but he doesn't really know what to do, because he's never had like a good relationship

He watches sadden from afar before wallowing in his own self pity

Though, after everything that has happened, he is a little bit more confident it just takes some working up before he can go over to you

He'll debate about it for a few though. Like he'll sit up, but quickly sit back down and do it over again until he finally gathers the courage to approach you

He'll finally approach you, thinking of what he's going to do as he approaches you, but when he finally approaches you he's still lost on what to do

He'll just act and kiss you infront of the person, which takes the flirter by surprise

The flirter will apologize and end up leaving you alone

You're surprised by Viktor's brazen behavior, but it's also kind of a turn on and he'll kiss you again before you can comment on it

Marcus Hargreeves

He doesn't get 'jealous'

That word isn't even in his dictionary

Well, that was until he saw a guy flirting with you

What is this feeling???

It's an icky feeling that he doesn't like it

He'll put an end to it quickly [Both the flirting and the feeling]

You're kind of taken aback when Marcus comes up to you and pulls you away from the conversation

He would have folded his way into the conversation, but he would have been passive aggressive

You try and ask him what's wrong, but he's quick to deflect the conversation

He'll push the feeling deep down and it'll come up when you both get into a fight

Sparrow! Ben Hargreeves

He's furious

If he wasn't busy nursing his drink, he probably would have knocked the guy out. Thankfully he's drunk and not sober

Though he can't help the thoughts in his mind... Violent thoughts

The thoughts will become a lot and he has to leave

He's mad at the person, but then he starts thinking and he suddenly becomes mad at you

How come you didn't tell them to back off????

He becomes slightly insecure but he fights that feeling and it becomes overcome with anger

He'll end up leaving without you, because he needs time to be alone and think

Though, this just makes his feelings worse. While he's drunk he's sad and depressed, but when he becomes sober, his emotions quickly turn to anger and he wants to confront you

So, when he sees you again he's anger has already been bubbling up and he blows up

You're taken aback and kind of scared because he's so mad and he's yelling and you can't even decipher what he's talking about

He needs some time to cool off, but he can't be alone, because his feelings will cool off

You'll go to another room while he cools off, so that he knows you're still around, but you're not alone together

He will eventually calm down and apologize for his behavior, but not with words, but like subtle actions, gifts, and such

Fei Hargreeves

You don't even know she's jealous, because she hides it so well

She's kind of scary looking, so no-one has approached her

She takes her jealousy pretty well and doesn't let it bother her

It just kind of rolls off her back

She's confident and knows who she is and what she wants, so she's not threatened by some nobody trying to hit on you

Though, if she sees you getting uncomfortable, she will step in

Thanks to her looks, they back off rather quickly

It's rather silly to her and she finds the whole thing stupid

She takes it the best and doesn't let it bother her

10/10 best girlfriend <3

Sloane Hargreeves

She's a sweet girl and doesn't deserve to be sad

She's a hopeless romantic, so when she sees people flirting and being cute, she instantly is like 'Awww' until she realizes it's you

Then she's mad and her mind races with multiple different scenario

What if you leave her?

Oh god, what if you don't love her anymore?

What if you click with them so well that you think they're you're soul mate and you leave he-

She shakes her head, before standing up

She fixes her hair, before putting on her brightest smile and approaching you

She's very beautiful, so they person who was hitting on you will turn and flirt with her too

She'll become annoyed, because they were just hitting on you and now they're hitting on her? Were you not good enough for them???

Who did they think they were?

Instead of being mad that they were flirting with you, she's mad they STOPPED flirting with you to flirt with her

You're incredible, so she's confused why they don't realize that

She calls them on it and you're really flattered, but you have to drag her away, so she doesn't get to carried away

Jayme Hargreeves

It's more of an annoyance

She doesn't think about it to much

She's probably the only one who WILL come up to you and interrupt your conversation in a rude way

If the flirter is rude to her she'll use her powers and pull you away from them

It all happens so fast, you don't even process it until you're back at the house

"What the hell was that???"

She doesn't even turn to you, but you do here her make a sound of confusion

Your brows frown, and you groan, "Why did you use your powers on that person"

"Why were you flirting with them?" Still she hasn't turned towards you

"I wasn't flirting with them!"

She keeps her cool, making brash accusations, which causes you to get angry and by the end of it she makes it seem like YOU are the crazy one

[withlove-amber]

Peaches and Cowboy

gibbs x reader

This does take place before Jack Sloane appears in season 15

Peaches. (Y/N) only had to thank one Leroy Jethro Gibbs for that nickname. He insists it’s because she’s so sweet and kind. But, she’s pretty sure it’s because of her perfume. He calls her that only when they’re alone, neither of them want to ruin his reputation. 

Her head was down on her desk, with paperwork covering every inch of her desk. Gibbs was growing concerned, because she was looking paler by the hour. Once Tony headed to interrogation, Ziva was checking out a lead, and Tim was getting an update from Abby, he made his way over to her desk. That’s when he smelled her perfume, peach with just a dash of vanilla. “Hey, peaches, you feelin’ okay?” Her head instantly rose from her desk, and she sleepily responded, “Yeah, just a headache the size of Texas. I’ll be alright. Just need to drink more water.” He was still concerned, but ultimately said, “Okay, let me know if you need anything.” “Will do, hun.”

The day went by and by the end of it, she was very excited to go home, make some soup, and crawl into a warm bed. Gibbs had the same idea, but because he was still concerned, he offered to drive her home. She was hesitant at first, saying she didn’t want to be a bother. But he insisted. And she damn near fell asleep during the ride home. She was so out of it, she didn’t even notice that it wasn’t her house. It was Gibbs’ house. Fair enough, they only live a street away from each other. She only noticed something was different when the front table was in a different spot than it was in her house. He led her to the couch, and told her to make herself comfortable. As she did, he disappeared into the kitchen. He reappeared a few moments later with two bowls of soup, water for her, and a beer for him. She felt a little bad that her friend was taking care of her, but ultimately felt so grateful that he cared enough about her to do so. 

They ate in comfortable silence, and after finishing her soup, she started feeling incredibly exhausted. To no shock, he noticed that she was starting to fade. He took the dishes back into the kitchen, and when he returned to the living room, found her half asleep, curled up on the sofa. He gently pushed her hair away from her face, and gently laid a blanket on top of her. He whispered, “Goodnight, peaches.” She responded with a half-hearted mumble that sounded similar to, “Goodnight Jethro.” And with that, she fell into a very blissful sleep, where she dreamt of a very familiar silver-haired, steely-blue eyed man. 

Cowboy. Gibbs only had (Y/N) to thank for that nickname. She calls him that only when they’re alone, neither of them want to ruin his reputation. It was a slow day, the team didn’t have a case, so they took the day to catch up on paperwork. Sometime in the afternoon, they all took a break (minus one silver-haired boss), and took turns guessing what their favorite movie genres were. Lastly, it was (Y/N)’s turn. She correctly guessed that Ziva hasn’t watched a lot of movies, Tim’s favorite is action-fantasy, and that Tony’s was classic films. But Gibbs, she had a hard time figuring his out. But ultimately, she correctly guessed he likes westerns. Specifically, black and white westerns. “Yeah I see it, cowboy. It fits.” And with that, that’s how he became “cowboy”. Just with an afternoon distraction from the mind-numbing paperwork they had all been busy with all day. The rest of the day went by in a blur. They all said their goodbyes and went their separate ways for the night. Sometime in the evening, (Y/N) found herself in Gibbs’ basement, drinking bourbon out of an old glass, talking with not her boss, but her friend. 

“Why’d ya guess I like westerns?” “Because, you have this air of authority about you, your house is bare besides furniture, you have an old TV, and you build boats in your basement. Plus, at night, you smell like bourbon.” “Wow.” “Yeah… it’s one of my favorite things about you.” “What is?” “Everything. It’s just so you.” He leaned over and wrapped her in a hug. She swiftly accepted his hug, and held him tight. They spent the rest of the night laughing and talking about anything and everything. Not a lot of people know, but Gibbs can be very talkative with the right person. He also smiles his beautiful, soft smile quite a lot. But only when he’s with her. Only when he’s with his “peaches”. And when she’s with her “cowboy”, the sun will never be able to outshine her smile.

[meazalykov]

getting what she wants

lena oberdorf x OC x USWNT x reader

part three of five

summary: you hope that your actions don't affect the national team before the olympics.

warnings: cheating

oc description here

the air in new york was thick with anticipation, the kind of electric energy that always surrounded a match, even a friendly. 

but today, it wasn’t just about the game for you. there was something else simmering underneath the surface—a mix of emotions that you hadn’t quite been able to shake since the messy breakup with sloan three days before. 

everyone knew about it by now, of course. your teammates, her teammates, mutual friends… it was impossible to keep anything quiet in the football world, especially when both of you were so connected to so many players. 

you couldn’t even really escape it. but today, the pitch was your escape. 

you tried to lose yourself in the familiar routine of preparing for the match. your bright blue cleats laced up, your mind running through tactical plays made by the new management, your body itching to release all the pent-up frustration and confusion from the last few weeks. 

you couldn’t help but overhear sophia and trinity talking to tierna talking a few feet away, their voices hushed but carrying enough that you caught snippets while stretching.

"i mean, sloan was always going to have feelings for savannah," sophia said, her tone nonchalant. 

"it’s no surprise they’re back together now."

"yeah, but still... y/n doesn’t deserve all of this," trinity muttered, glancing in your direction before looking back at sophia. 

"i mean, come on. the whole thing was a mess."

"sloan wasn’t right for y/n, and we all knew it. it was only a matter of time before this happened. i just wished it didn’t happen now before the olympics. maybe this will be a good time for y/n to channel her anger into motivation. " tierna nodded in agreement, her arms crossed. 

you felt your chest tighten at their words. even though you knew they were right—everyone was right—it didn’t make it any easier. 

the breakup with sloan had been inevitable, but that didn’t stop the hurt. it didn’t erase the guilt of everything that had happened, especially with lena. 

it stings knowing that savannah and sloan are basically back together– just three days after you guys officially broke up. sloan was never a victim, you knew that, but her making you out to be the bad guy was something you’ve never seen from her in the three years you had with her.

the whirlwind of emotions you’d been riding since– who knows when– felt like it was spinning out of control, and this game against mexico was your only chance to anchor yourself, even if just for ninety minutes.

you shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts as you stood up from the bench. being in the starting lineup was good, you had enough time to clear your head instead of overthinking on the bench.

"it’s just a game," you muttered to yourself, but deep down, you knew it was more than that. 

this was your chance to prove yourself, not only to your teammates but to your new coach, emma hayes. she hadn’t been around long, but you could already feel the shift in the team. and you knew she was watching, evaluating, trying to piece together her starting eleven for the olympics. 

you needed to show her that you belonged in that lineup—that you were ready for the pressure.

as you stepped onto the field outside of the tunnel, the excitement of the crowd filled your ears, but all you could focus on was the ball that was going to be at your feet, the opposing players that will be in front of you, and the tactical decisions you’d been preparing for all week. 

the weight of everything else—lena, sloan, the drama—was still there, but for now, you shoved it to the back of your mind.

the game kicked off, and immediately, you found your rhythm. 

your passes were sharp, your vision on point. mexico’s defense was tight, but as the best attacking midfielder in the world– you moved through them with ease, linking up with your teammates, pushing forward with purpose. 

you gave your front line– sophia, trinity, and mallory– many great chances. which they all missed or got blocked. that is okay, for now. it's the tenth minute and with each touch of the ball, you felt more in control, more focused. 

about fifteen minutes in, you spotted an opening in mexico’s backline as you pushed yourself up a bit– as mallory pulled herself back from an opportunity before. 

you made a run, breaking past the defenders onside, and sophia found you with a perfectly timed through ball. 

without hesitation, you took a shot. the ball curved beautifully past the goalkeeper and hit the back of the net after you took the shot outside of the box.

the stadium erupted in cheers, but all you felt was a rush of adrenaline and satisfaction. 

you ran to the corner of the pitch with your arms out. most of the team sprinted to you and gave you hugs and praises. you needed that goal. 

the first goal was always the hardest, but you weren’t done yet. not even close.

"y/n that was fucking amazing!" trinity called as she jogged up beside you, jumping on your back. 

you laughed as you gave her the five second piggy-back ride before she pulled herself from your body. 

"thanks trin," you replied, your mind already moving on to the next play.

as the first half wore on, the pressure from mexico intensified. they were pushing hard to equalize, but you were locked in. 

every tackle, every pass, every decision you made was calculated, determined. you weren’t going to let anything slip.

in fact, a commentator on television mentions that you haven’t made an error yet. 

right before halftime, you did it again. this time, it was a quick counterattack. 

mallory drove the ball up the wing and sent a low cross into the box. you were there, in the right place at the right time, and with a swift touch, you redirected the ball into the net for your second goal.

"let’s fucking go!!!!" you heard mallory scream, running up to hug you. 

the rest of the team swarmed around, congratulating you, but again, you kept it low-key. 

you were locked in—laser-focused on what needed to be done. you couldn’t afford to let anything distract you, especially not now.

some of the girls knew what has gotten into you– but they’re still amazed. 

at halftime, the locker room was buzzing with excitement. two-nil up against mexico was a good place to be, but you weren’t satisfied yet.

this was strange, usually you’re the happiest person on the planet when you score one goal each match. suddenly, two goals feels like lightwork for you. 

you needed to do more. 

as you sat down to catch your breath, you felt sophia sit next to you.

"you’re killing it out there," she said, offering a small smile. 

"emma’s definitely gonna notice. no way she’s not starting you in the olympics after this." trinity joined in the conversation, putting her arm around your shoulders as you rested your head on hers. 

you needed the comfort.

"thanks," you muttered, still feeling the weight of everything else swirling in your mind.

"hey," sophia lowered her voice, leaning in a bit closer. 

"i know everything with sloan has been... a lot. but you’re not a bad person, y/n. you and sloan... it wasn’t going to work out in the long run, and you know that." she puts her hand on your knee.

"it’s just... i feel like i messed up too. with lena." you glanced at her, the guilt still gnawing at you. 

trinity raised an eyebrow. 

sophia already knew that you hooked up with lena while with sloan, thanks to sloan blasting the portland thorns group chat about the discovery after you guys broke up. 

when sam told you she did that, you sighed. 

of course someone had to be the bad guy– might as well be me. you thought.

"lena? you didn’t mess up, y/n. sloan wasn’t treating you right, and it’s not like she wasn’t seeing savannah. breaking up was the right thing to do, for both of you."

“what happened?” trinity asked. 

“i hooked up with lena.” you say, nervous for trinity’s reaction. 

“lena who?” trinity asks. 

“oberdorf, my teammate at bayern.” you say. 

“ohh, the one who tackles.” trinity jokes, making the conversation feel lighter than it was. 

before you could respond, the coaches started calling everyone back out for the second half. 

you stood up, taking a deep breath. you had forty-five more minutes to show what you could do, to leave everything on the field.

and that’s exactly what you did.

in the 70th minute, you found the perfect opportunity to seal your performance.

 trinity made a darting run down the right flank, drawing the defense toward her. you hung back, waiting just outside the box. she spotted you and sent a precise pass your way. you took a touch, steadying the ball, then fired it into the top corner.

hat trick.

the stadium exploded with cheers, your teammates mobbing you in celebration, but all you could feel was the relief. it was over.

now you were satisfied. the game was done, and you’d done exactly what you needed to do. 

"holy shit, y/n!" trinity exclaimed, grinning as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

"you’re on fire today." you felt naomi jump on your back after saying that.

you managed a small smile, but inside, your emotions were a mess. 

the high from the game clashed with the low from everything that had been happening off the pitch. the guilt, the uncertainty, it was all still there.

as the team made their way back to the locker room after the game, you could feel the weight returning. 

the game had been a temporary reprieve, but now you were back to reality. and that reality included the fallout from your breakup.

once inside, as you peeled off your sweat-soaked jersey, emily passed by without a word. 

she hadn’t been talking to you much lately as before. in fact, the arsenal defender hasn't spoken to you once since the national break started. you knew why—she was closer to sloan than to you. 

her friendship and loyalty was for your ex.

it stung, but you couldn’t really blame her. this was messy for everyone involved.

some of the girls saw the sad look you gave emily.

"don’t worry about her," mallory said quietly, noticing your glance. 

"she’ll come around again. just give it time."

you nodded, though it didn’t do much to ease the tightness in your chest.

again, the girls knew what you were thinking. as if your mind was on full display. 

"you’re not a bad person," trinity added from the bench nearby, her tone gentle but firm. 

"it’s just... you and sloan weren’t right for each other. that doesn’t make you a bad person."

"yeah," sophia chimed in. 

you swallowed hard, their words settling over you like a blanket of comfort, but it didn’t erase the guilt entirely. 

"i just want to move on," you muttered, more to yourself than to them.

"and you will," tierna said, giving you a reassuring nod. 

"after d.c., it’s olympic time. focus on that. new chapter, new start." crystal says. 

you knew she was right. 

the olympics were just around the corner, and you couldn’t afford to dwell on the past. it was time to let go, to move on.

"yeah," you agreed quietly, mostly to convince yourself. 

"a new start."

part four here

[drewsbuzzcut]

Daddy’s Home

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: mentions teething

Sloane was not having it. None of it. She’s been going through some teething recently, plus her daddy has been on a roadie, so she’s just not a happy baby. Understandably so. You’ve tried your hardest to soothe her- FaceTiming Mat at night and in the morning, and holding her every second you could. It’s been a struggle especially with your two hyper sons.

“Mat, she is not doing too hot. She has a fever and she’s crying every 30 minutes. The boys are thankfully sane today, but I just need you here, we need you here,” you sigh into the phone.

If it were up to Mat, you’d be on FaceTime. However, you don’t want him to see how downtrodden and exhausted you are.

“I can book a flight right now. Just say the word. You know what? No, I’m booking the flight. I should be home in 4-ish hours,” Mat states, the sound of him getting up and the ruffling of his clothes reach your ears.

“No. Mat, just stay where you are. I can hold down the fort one more day. You come home tomorrow night anyways. Sorry for calling just to complain. Sloane is asleep for the moment and I just needed to hear your voice for a minute,” you whisper to mask the way your heart twists at the thought of him being gone for a second longer.

“Baby, I can come home. No game is more important than the loves of my life. I love you, pretty girl. You’re doing amazing,” he reassures you and you just about break into sobs.

“I love you. Stay with the team. I can handle one more day. I can’t wait to see you,” you let out a sigh, completely laying down in your bed that’s too big without Mat next to you.

“I miss you. I really want to kiss you and hold you. I miss the kids, too,” Mat tells you and you close your eyes to stop your tears from falling.

“We miss you and love you so much. I’ll give them kisses for you when we hang up.”

“Okay, baby. I’m going to go. Do you need anything before I hang up?”

“No. Have a goodnight. I love you.”

“I love you. Goodnight,” Mat says before hanging up.

You let out a deep exhale of air, clenching your eyes shut because you refuse to cry. You force yourself off the bed, keeping good on your promise of kissing all your babies for Mat. It’s already 9 at night, so they’re tucked in but you give them their kiss and rub your fingers through their soft hair. As for Sloane, you bring her into your arms so you can take her to your bed. Her fever has been up and down, so you just want her close.

About 3 hours later you hear your front door open and close with a faint slam which wakes up Sloane. Now you’re frazzled and a little scared while Sloane’s cry rings in your ears. As you’re about to get up, your bedroom door opens and walks in your husband.

He makes a beeline straight for you, guiding you to stand up so he can bring you into his arms. You hold him tight, breathing in his scent that you missed so much. You can’t help but let out a tear or two.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, pulling away but still holding onto him.

“You’re more important, always. It’s one game anyways. Why is Sloane awake?”

You give him a slight wince and let him know the sound of him coming in is what woke her up. He immediately apologizes, but truth be told, anything would wake up your baby girl right now.

You give him time to shower before you drag him into your bedroom, but he also makes sure to go into the boys’ rooms- simply just to watch them sleep for a little bit.

When he walks back into your room, Sloane is immediately reaching out for him. Her eyes are teary and her lips wrinkle in a little pout similar to all your barzal boys.

“My sweet girl. Daddy is here, my love,” Mat cuddles her into his chest and whispers softly in her ear.

Her little hands clutch onto strands of his hair as she shoves her head in the crook of his neck. She’s content against the warmth of his bare chest. Mat lets out a sigh of relief, he’s happy to be home.

“She’s been having a really hard week. Those teeth coming in are not treating her well. She’s had a fever the last two days, but it hasn’t been anything crazy. She’s more uncomfortable than in pain. She missed daddy,” you say, one hand caressing Sloane while your other cards through your husband’s hair.

“I know you told me to stay, but I’m glad I came home. I missed all of you and I know she’s been extra clingy to me lately. It’s not fair to you,” Mat wraps an arm around your waist, needing his other girl pressed against him.

“It’s not like I don’t know how it is. I know your job is demanding, and we’ve made a pretty solid routine. Remember, life isn’t fair. I am thankful you’re here right now, though,” you peck his lips.

“I love you, baby,” Mat says into your kiss.

“I love you, always.”

“Ow shit!” Mat yelps, eyes bugging out at Sloane who has her mouth attached to his shoulder. Her tiny front tooth coming in nips at her daddy’s skin.

“Welcome to my world. Breastfeeding has been a terror lately,” you snigger behind your hand.

Sloane lets out a little baby giggle and it makes both of you laugh in return.

“Do you like biting daddy? He’s yummy, huh? Bite him some more,” you coo to your baby girl.

“I’ve had enough biting from you, I don’t need anymore from my own daughter,” Mat pouts.

That pout. It always gets to you.

“Do you need me to kiss it better?” You tease, guiding him to your bed.

You want him to pound you into your bed, but because Sloane is cranky without her daddy holding her, you know that won’t be happening.

“Maybe.”

“Come here, my baby,” you get into bed, letting Mat snuggle into you while he still holds Sloane.

She immediately falls asleep and Mat isn’t far behind.

a/n: Enjoy!

[midnightsun-if]

Do we have an alternate ending to the true love kiss scenario but the kiss ended up working? 🥹💔 asking for a broken hearted fellow

A heavy buzzing is what alerts you to your surroundings first, your eyes fluttering open blearily as you try to make sense of the world coming into focus around you.

You were in a familiar room. Faint aromas and scents waft over you, soothing, instead of alerting, the beast within you.

You were on a bed. That you could tell by the soft sheets underneath your hands.

You weren't alone. Your gaze settling on the figure seated directly next to you, a wave of warmth crashing over you at the familiar sight.

Koda: "Hi, sunflower," he whispers, conscious of how loud he needed to be in case you were still disoriented. A large hand cups your cheek, tears causing the gold within his deep brown eyes to shimmer like flecks of liquid sunlight. "You've been asleep for a bit, I'm glad I was able to wake you up." Koda dips his head. "We should get you a medal. I think you beat out a hibernating bear."

Scarlett: "My heart." The whispered admission, spoken through a strangled noise, as if the breath had just been forced back into her lungs, is filled with adoration. "You've finally awoken." A look of complete relief is etched upon her face, Scarlett moving closer, as if on instinct, to clutch your hand. The usual viridescent quality of her gaze was darker than usual, a pallid hue to her complexion, but the happiness the shone through seemed to make her glow from within. "I'll have to ask you desist from ever scaring me like that again. I don't know what I would do if I lost you."

Cyrus/Cyra: "You're awake." A soft smile comes to their lips at the sight, golden eyes shimmering with all the love they felt for you. "I wasn't certain if you would awaken. If I--" They pause, shaking whatever thought away. "I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't been able to help you." They gently take your hand into theirs, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. "You've helped me in so many ways, my flame, I'm glad that I was able to pay, at least some of, it back."

Quinn: "It's about time you woke up," they tease, easy smile on full display. If it wasn't for the strain around sapphire eyes, you would have almost believed it too. "I don't know how much longer I could have put up with your snoring, sweetheart." Quinn shakes their head, settling on the bed, making sure they didn't jostle you too much. "I'm just glad to finally see you awake."

Caden: "I'm glad to see you awake," they murmur, gently swiping a strand of hair away from your face. Argent eyes softened to a pale gray, black curls falling haphazardly across their forehead as they smile gently at you. "Is there anything you need? Anything I can help you with?" Caden settles on the bed beside you, light as air. "I will do everything in my power to make sure you're okay." They press a gentle kiss to your brow. "No matter how long that may take."

Sloane: A rush of emotions flickers across their face at the sight of you actually staring back. Hazel eyes flashing with the depth of the storm raging within them. "You're an ass," they grunt, hands tightening on the covers. "Do you have any fucking idea what you've just put me through?" Sloane barks out a laugh, shaking their head. "If you ever act like that much of a dumbass again, I might just leave you sleeping." Staring at you for a moment, their eyes soften, as does their tone. "But I can't say I'm not glad to see your beautiful eyes."

Blake: "I know I've said I enjoy Sleeping Beauty, but that doesn't mean you need to reenact it, angel." Violet eyes appraise your form, noting everything that could possibly be wrong. Seemingly content with what they find, Blake takes your hand into theirs, relief causing the tension within their body to rush out. "Let's leave curses and hexes to witches and animated movies, okay?" They run a hand through their hair, making the already messy locks even more haphazard in appearance. "Have no interest in almost losing you again."

Reginald/Regina: Blue green eyes brighten, a sunny smile overtaking their lips. "It actually worked!" They beam, rushing to your side in an instant. Slim hands cradling your face as they seem to simply want to soak you in. "I can't believe it actually worked! I'm happy that it did, of course. I don't want to even imagine it failing, but--" They cut themself off, clearly aware that they were headed towards a rant. Reigning themself in, they continue with a softer edge to their tone. "Even if I'm profoundly curious, I don't think I want to ever experience this again. I like it a lot better when you're the one answering my questions."

[oldhalloweentape]

🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader ⛏️

(Requested: Emotionally Stoic Reader Edition!)

(Not my Picture!)

(Request here! My first ever request for Venture, such an honor, I really hope I conveyed what was asked of me!)

- When people think of Venture, an energetic person who has a friendly air of enthusiasm to them, and you, more “actions speak louder than words” and emotionally unreadable together, they immediately assume that you two are on a whole different wavelength entirely.

- And at first, when you both first met, that was the case. You were mysterious to them, an enigma much like the various historical places they went to for their work, which caught their attention on you in the first place.

- No one can deny that Venture is a social butterfly, constantly up for seeing new things and meeting new people and eventually learning about them, which reflects in your relationship.

- Even in friendship they hope that you can be able to see Venture as someone reliable and constant, this still lives on in your romantic relationship.

- It takes time for them to realize that you’re more inclined to show through actions than emotion, showing your intention in another way, but when you do it’s like they were able to discover something that can change history.

- They naturally come to appreciate everything you do for them, love is consideration and everything you do because you had them in mind means a lot to them.

- Sloane takes note of how you feel both consciously and physically, they figure if they can write down things about you and your reaction to varying situations can be a way where they can properly support you until they inevitably know by look alone.

- This only takes a month for them to crack, easily able to deduce that certain things you do are a result of a certain emotion, inevitably becoming the go-to person when it comes to being able to figure out what exactly is making you feel a certain way.

- Much like how they are with certain dates that take physical exertion, they are quick to make sure they can do everything in their power to make sure you can continue being comfortable and that person they’ve come to know.

- They pride themselves on being able to acknowledge that you consciously go out of your way to be there for them, whether it be things like simply being there for them and caring for their well-being.

- Despite the lack of emotion on your face most of the time, Venture knows you love them and they make sure you know they love you right back.

- They’re an incredibly understanding person, giving you space whenever you need it, knowing that not everyone is comfortable with sharing their emotions.

- But if you’re simply avoiding other people and them because you don’t want to be an inconvenience, they’re determined to convince you that you’ll never be an inconvenience, not to them at least.

- Takes the time and the effort to help you voice whatever have you feeling less than the amazing person they know you are.

- While they don’t understand how you could feel such a way, they know what is like to keep their true emotions bottled up to make sure others aren’t “brought down” when they speak up about it. But they were able to overcome this and they don’t want you experiencing the same thing.

- That’s the thing about being selfless, sometimes a person forgets that they too are important in what they experience as well.

- They’re always there, loving you, and telling you reassuring things like, “I know that it feels like it’s unnecessary, but it isn’t.” Or “I won’t force you to do or say anything that goes against what makes you comfortable, but sometimes the thing that is making you uncomfortable is the thing you’re not saying.”

- Takes things like this extremely slow, wanting to build a significant bond between the two of you and not back you up into a corner.

- They truly know who you are as a person and are extremely genuine when they say they want you to be yourself.

- They love and care for you in such an obvious manner, respecting and understanding what you do though you are more subtle with your affections, and are adamant about reciprocating these gestures of consideration.

(Thanks for all the support!!!)

[eliotquillon]

i have to imagine that at some point during chase and cameron’s fwb era, chase went back to aus for a trip. what about a time zones/jealous cam drabble?

sorry this took me FOREVER and is also not really jealous cam but more…pining cam?? argh. but i tried :) set between fetal position and airborne

In the end, it isn’t House who goes on vacation after they discharge Emma Sloan. It’s Chase; he walks into work one morning, a rare day when they’re not both riding in together, shoulders hunched and face pale, and says, “House. I need to talk to you.”

“You know I hate it when you do that,” House complains, but he must see what Cameron sees: the sunken gaze, the tense fingers. Who died, Cameron thinks, but his parents are both dead already. He leads Chase to his office and shuts the blinds. Cameron looks, and looks, and looks. Chase does not look back.

*

“I’m going out of town for a few days,” Chase tells her at lunch. They are attracting stares: the whole hospital knows they’re sleeping together now, no thanks to House. No thanks to me, Cameron thinks, a little guilty, and pushes another forkful of salad into her mouth. “Can you check on my stuff while I’m gone?”

“Out of town?” Cameron presses, selfishly wanting; she regrets it as soon as she says it. Chase presses his lips together, pushes his fries sullenly around his plate. Cameron is all too aware of the choreography. In two hours, the nurses will all be whispering about the big break-up—false for all the obvious reasons, but also because there’s nothing to break up. “What happened?”

“I have to go to Melbourne,” Chase says flatly. “There’s an issue with my dad’s will.”

“But I thought he cut you out of it,” Cameron frowns. She doesn’t mean to be insensitive with her bluntness. She only means to clarify; she had been shell-shocked, when he spat it out bluntly all those months ago, not at the specifics but at the mere concept of it. It’s the sort of thing you hear about, vague family gossip about a friend of a friend, but surely, Cameron had thought, it didn’t really happen. Surely people—mothers, fathers, great-aunts—were never really so cruel as to deliberately strike someone out with their last act in this world, not for no good reason. Chase spears a fry, and does not eat it.

“He did,” he says heavily. “Including the stuff he had no right to cut me out of. Can you do it?”

No, Cameron thinks. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t handle it. I’d be a sobbing mess, not coming into work every day to flirt with a colleague and snipe at Foreman and save people’s lives. Not casually discussing it over lunch. But that isn’t what Chase is asking.

“Of course,” she says, “just leave me the key.”

*

She gets into the routine of it easily enough. It helps that she knows her way around Chase’s apartment already—though, of course, she knows the bedroom best. Cameron stops by every evening on her way home from work to air the place out, sort the mail, check there’s nothing spoiling in the refrigerator. Chase left at the last minute; there are still clothes in his laundry hamper, a towel on the bathroom floor, electronics still plugged in. When she turns on the TV out of idle interest, it is automatically tuned to a sports channel. Cameron laughs, and the way the sound rings out across the empty room makes her feel absurdly guilty.

It would be so easy to pry. She has the experience, after all—years of snooping around patients’ homes, always careful to put things back where she found them, and she’s far more familiar with Chase’s habits and floorplan than she is theirs—and, secretly, she has the desire. Without him here to distract her with his hands or mouth or terrible post-sex cooking, it is easier to admit her own curiosity to herself. It is easier to admit that she wants to know him beyond the scope of what he has already told her. But easier isn’t the same as easy. Cameron closes windows and throws out expired milk. She ignores the bedroom. She always leaves the key behind.

*

It isn’t that she misses him, at work. It’s simply lacking for a case—House is due to fly to Singapore the day after Chase is scheduled to return—and there’s scarcely anything to do. She has brief, cordial lunches with Foreman, spends the mornings doing clinic duty and the afternoons catching up on House’s permanently-backlogged charting. It is all very companionable; she has always liked Foreman well enough, save for the times he has given her reason to be annoyed, and without Chase to wind him up Foreman seems to return the sentiment. He only tries to broach the subject once.

“About you and Chase,” he starts, and Cameron’s pen leaves a dent on her chart.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says. It’s the wrong answer: she should’ve said, there’s nothing to talk about. It’s what she means to say, but for some reason her mouth won’t form the words. Foreman sighs, and his eyebrows make a grand leap of frustration, but he just nods.

“Don’t bring me into it,” he warns, and this time Cameron doesn’t bother trying to correct him.

*

Melbourne is sixteen hours ahead of New Jersey. It is natural, Cameron thinks, to wonder what he might be doing. It is natural, given the circumstances, to wonder if he’s alright. It is not natural to wonder if he misses her, but she finds herself doing that anyway. His voicemail beeps with messages; the sound of the dialtone makes her so irritated that she has to fight the urge to delete them all at once.

*

“Thanks,” Chase says when he comes back to work, jetlagged and small-looking and yet, Cameron hopes, a little pleased to see her. “You didn’t have to clean up after me.”

She didn’t mean to. She didn’t even want to, but her hands were idle and his phone kept beeping and once, while she was intercepting a delivery he must’ve forgotten about, she heard a strange woman’s voice ask about him on the speakerphone, words garbled through the closed hallway door. In Cameron’s experience, it is easier to resist temptation if there is something to be tempted away from. “I don’t mind,” she says. “Did everything turn out alright?”

“More or less,” Chase shrugs. He leans close; he still smells a bit like stale plane air and, Cameron imagines, a certain kind of foreign-ness. “Come over tonight?” he asks in a hopeful undertone.

Cameron is sick of his apartment. She would rather not examine why. “Come to mine,” she says, decisive, and rises to greet Foreman.

[walkingstackofbooks]

cw: unreality, hallucinations, threatening a child

Premise: Since the war ended, Julian's been suffering from hallucinations of Sloan. Put on medical leave, he accepts the O'Briens invitation to stay with them for a while, and travels to Earth.

--

It's as pleasant a meal as it can be, given the circumstances. Julian's trying to pay attention to the conversation - and he knows Molly's saying something about whales, at least. And he's managing to load food into his fork and take a bite and count to twenty before allowing himself to glance at Sloan again. That's more than yesterday. Hah. Progress.

For the moment, Sloan doesn't seem to be doing anything more than scowling at him. It's still off-putting. Julian ducks his head, trying not to look towards Miles for reassurance. His friend has been doing enough reassuring as it is, recently - Julian doesn't need to worry him for just the standard Sloan skulking. He can ignore it. He can.

He forces himself to smile, even when Sloan starts tapping against the window in an annoyingly imprecise manner, and tells Keiko how delicious the fish is. He can't taste it, but that's not important. Sometimes, when he's eating alone, Sloan poisons his food, and then he can't eat it at all. He's grateful for the O'Briens, the way their presence seems to trap Sloan in his corner.

The tapping increases, turning into banging, and Julian steels himself, resolving not to flinch. Then, all at once, Sloan's beside him, grabbing at his arms, and Julian realises too late that he'd put his cutlery down, had been holding his hands to his ears, trying to block Sloan out.

"I won't have you ignoring me, Julian," Sloan hisses, and suddenly everything goes very still. The O'Brien's conversation dies dead as Sloan picks up Julian's fish knife, and in one slick move, holds it against Molly's throat. Julian doesn't register the clatter of his chair on the floor as he moves to stand up, staring at Sloan with fearful eyes.

"Get away from her." His voice trembles, so small that it barely belongs to him. His heart is lodged in his throat. He can't breathe.

"You were being very rude, Julian," replies Sloan. "Don't you think you should apologise?"

You're not real, Julian wants to say - but there's a knife at Molly's throat, not yet drawing blood, but Sloan's slowly pressing into her skin, and she's crying, softly - and Sloan's unfaltering, cruel gaze is real, must be real, and Julian doesn't have a doubt that the man will kill Molly, if Julian doesn't give him what he wants--

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Just-- please-- let her go. She's got nothing to do with this."

He shouldn't be panicking. With his training, with his augmentations, he should be able to turn this situation around, think of a way out of it, grab the knife and save Molly and get Sloan away. But he can't think, his mind's blank with terror - Sloan's unpredictable, and if Julian makes one wrong move...

"Nothing to do with this?" Sloan repeats mockingly. "My dear, you've spent all dinnertime lavishing your attention on her, barely sparing me a second thought."

"I'm sorry," Julian says again, and his desperation, at least, is sincere. "I'm sorry, Sloan, but that's my fault, it's not hers, so please--"

"Luther," Sloan says. Julian stares at him, blinking in incomprehension.

"What?"

"Call me Luther," Sloan says, and Julian nods jerkily. Anything to get him away from Molly.

"Luther, please," he begs. The name leaves a sour taste on his tongue. "Put the knife down."

"And what will you give me in return?"

The air is much colder than it was a few minutes ago. Julian shivers. His mouth is dry.

"What do you want?"

His question seems to please Sloan, who smiles in response. "Oh, nothing much. Why don't you just promise me that you've learnt your lesson, and we'll leave it there, for today."

For today. If Julian wasn't so scared, he'd have laughed. Tomorrow, of course, this could happen all over again, and he had no way of stopping it.

"I promise," he says, and, "Thank you." Tomorrow aside, that could have been so much worse.

But Sloan tuts, shaking his head. Julian's done something wrong.

"I want to feel that promise," he says, "I'm not quite... convinced. Let's see, now. Promise me with a kiss."

"A--" Julian's voice shakes, and dies away. But the knife is still pressed firmly against Molly's throat. He has to do this. He swallows down the lump that has risen in his throat, and then a second, squeezing his eyes shut tightly against the tears leaking from his eyes - and then realising that Luther might not like that, and opening then again rapidly.

"Drop the knife and-- and come here then," he says. He wishes the others weren't here to watch this, but he doesn't want to push his luck by asking anything more of Sloan. So long as he leaves Molly...

The knife is placed on the table, and Julian lets out a wobbly breath. Still, he has to force himself not to step backwards as Luther comes towards him. It occurs to him to wonder about how strange a request it is, for the agent to want a kiss, rather than information, or help, or--

He's pretty sure he's crying, as Sloan's lips touch his. He couldn't tell you what they felt like, just that they're wrong, wrong, wrong, and he wants to push him away, wants to throw up, wants to run and never stop running--

Sloan caresses his cheek as he leans away. "Not bad," he whispers. "But hey. Practise makes perfect."

"Go away," Julian whispers. "Please?"

"Please, Luther," Sloan corrects, with a hard glare that turns Julian's blood to ice. But then he turns on his heel, and is gone, and Julian stumbles back against the wall, trying to remember how to breathe again.

[matthewloverr]

sweet nothing

chris x sloane stirling (fem reader)

summary: for the past two years you’ve been in a heavily toxic relationship with chris, one second you’re the only girl he sees and next you’re fifth on the roster.

warnings: kissing, angst, swearing

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

sloanes pov

i sit on my couch bouncing my leg up and down and tapping my fingers on my knees, my eyes were fixated at the tv trying to focus on anything else other than my blank phone.

that was the problem, no text, no call just nothing. i had texted chris an hour ago to see if he still wanted to come over and watch a movie and nothing.

i was so close to getting up off the couch and driving to his house when i got a text from him.

chris♥️: busy

is this kid fucking kidding me right now, i literally made no plans so that we could do this but now hes busy ??

sloane: don’t bother coming over then.

chris♥️: k

anger pumped through my veins, fuck this im going out.

with that i checked the time, 7 pm, perfect just enough time to get myself ready for the bar.

i texted all my friends letting them know that our plans were back on and we are getting loaded.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

i finished getting ready and checked my phone to see if my friends were here, that’s when i heard music pumping slowly getting louder as a car pulled into my driveway.

i checked the mirror to see my outfit, i had on a black tank top which was mesh at the bottom and a tiny black skirt.

apparently one of my friends boyfriends was gonna be the driver for the night, before i walked out i checked my phone one last time for a sign of chris, nothing.

i got into the car and immediately switched my mood so they didn’t notice anything wrong.

“i thought you were with chris tonight?” rena spoke as she turned around, it was her boyfriend that was driving.

“nah fuck him” i replied as i buckled my seat belt with a big grin on my face.

all my friends started cheering and whooping, they hated chris mainly because all of them have seen him with a different girl on different occasions. they knew he would treat me right and then turn around and screw me over.

“i just need to get so criminally wasted i don’t even want to remember getting in this car” my friend allie said

“well lets go” i replied, honestly i was excited to go out with my girls. if there was anyone who could take my mind off him it was them.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

we arrived at the bar and walked up the steps, you could hear and feel the music getting louder as we got closer to the entrance.

we all immediately went to get drinks, there was a tall brunette boy standing there talking to someone girl. fuck my life it was chris.

i quickly looked away to avoid eye contact, but my friends soon caught on. they all just kept buying me drink after drink and before i knew it i was on the dance floor.

i was with allie as we moved our hips together, hands in the air and moving to the music. i was having fun until i felt someone’s eyes staring into me.

i whipped my head around a bit and noticed a pair of blue eyes watching me from the bar. i quickly resumed what i was doing.

we danced more and more and then i felt a pair of hands come around my waist, assuming it was some random i pushed him away. i turned to see the man and was met with none other than chris.

i pushed his chest as i rolled my eyes and he stumbled back a bit, i resumed what i was doing with allie before i felt a hand grab my wrist and drag me off the dance floor.

i knew it was chris, i just kept my eyes forward trying to focus on not throwing up or falling over.

he pulled me into a small hallway that had the bathrooms, i pressed my body against the wall. honestly chris never scared me i couldn’t care less but right now there was fire in his eyes that made me freeze in the moment.

“so you think that you can come here and act like a slut?” he shot at me his brows furrowed with anger

i scoffed in his face “you’re unbelievable, you blew me off just so you could come here, you’re the slut”

he pulled his lips between his teeth and looked out at the crowd of people before he let out a small chuckle.

“how about you just go fuck another girl, you’re too pathetic that you’ll just end up back in bed with me” i spat at him, the words coming out faster than i could even comprehend.

he just stared at me, i knew he was angry but i didn’t care anymore. he wanted to have a good time so will i.

“you have no fucking idea what you’re even talking about, you’re just a fuck to me. and you’ll give in. every. single. time.” he replied.

his words took me back, he was right. no matter what chris did i always allowed him to come back.

tears started brimming in my eyes before i sharply inhaled pushing myself off the wall.

“go fuck yourself” i said in a low tone i wasn’t sure he even heard me with the loud music on.

he just stared at me, he would look into my eyes then back at my lips. i didn’t want to give in, i knew i would regret it. god i looked like such an idiot but i had to.

eventually i just grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him in, our lips smashing together and it was messy.

he scooped me up with his hands under my thighs and my legs wrapped around him, he pressed me up against the wall. our kiss was like we were starving for eachother, our tongues fighting for dominance, our hands wrapped in eachothers hair trying to pull us together impossibly closer.

that’s when we heard a small gasp from next to us, it was that girl, the same girl who chris was talking to at the bar.

“are you kidding me right now, you just invited to go back to your place and i leave for two seconds to grab my shit and you’re kissing another girl??” the blonde girl screamed at chris, occasionally looking at me.

i slowly walked up to her before i whispered in her ear “he tested positive with hiv”

with that her face twisted with disgust and she walked away. i turned back to look at chris who had confusion written on his face, he slowly walked over to me wrapping his hands around my hips.

“now that blondies gone how about i take you back instead” he said with a malicious smirk on his face.

i laughed right then and there, “in your dreams bitch” and with that i walked back to my friends.

he didn’t come up to me the rest of the night which was good because i would’ve gone with him. rena’s boyfriend drove me home and i couldn’t be happier than to just lay in my bed.

i was taking my makeup off and my phone started ringing, obviously it was chris on the other line and i reluctantly picked it up.

“what” i said in a very annoyed tone.

“i love you” chris spoke, he wasn’t even slurring as if he was drunk. he almost had me fooled.

“k bye” and with that i hung up the phone. i knew chris well enough now that i knew he was just horny because i pushed away that girl, i didn’t care he can suffer.

i went to bed and my heart felt a little heavy, maybe he did mean it and that’s why he always comes back to me, it couldn’t be cause he wouldn’t be fucking around with other girls.

it was probably just nothing.

a/n: ok so what are our thoughts, i thought id give something to the chris girlies but i am obsessed with toxic chris i fear. anyways hope you enjoyed love you !

[akariamai]

Romeo & Juliet [Part 3]

Paring: Jacob Black x OC!Swan

Word Count: 1,219

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

It felt as if the Swan household let out a silent sigh of relief as Bella was coming out of her slump. Bella no longer spent her days burrowing into her chair, looking out the window waiting for him. The last conversation their father had with her really brought her out of her slump. She was now spending time away from their old table and hanging out with her friends and even Jacob. Things were starting to get better and Sloan hoped it would stay that way.

She did notice prominent differences in her sister. Bella no longer loved music. In fact, she shunned it at every turn. Car rides to school were filled with dead air and the night before, Sloan found all of Bella’s CD collection in the trash. She fished them out from the garbage in case Bella changed her mind. Growing up, music was a way to escape their mother’s impetuous decision-making. They both found solace in music, and to learn Edward had taken away her safe place broke Sloan’s heart. For now, she would keep them safe until Bella was ready.

Sloan flipped through the channels, not finding anything of interest, and switched the TV off.

“I’m heading to Jake’s,” Bella hurried down the stairs, almost tripping on her untied shoelaces. They did not need another scare like the one that landed her in the hospital.

“Be careful,” Sloan warned. Bella was clumsy all on her own. She didn’t need external forces to turn her mishaps into full-blown disasters. “Would you mind if I tag along?” Sloan hadn’t seen or spoken to Jacob since their beach day. The two could go on for months without contact and immediately chat like nothing happened.

Bella’s body fluctuated from complete relaxation to tense rigidity. “Um…” It was a brief moment of awkward silence. Bella folded into herself as if she wanted to disappear, and Sloan grew more frustrated by the palpable tension in the room. The more they sat in silence, the heavier the air became, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved disposition pressing down on them.

“You know what, I changed my mind. I don’t want to go,” Sloan relented. She wasn’t going to beg when it was clear she wasn’t wanted. Bella clearly didn’t want her to intrude on their socializing session.

On one hand, Sloan understood. Jacob had become Bella’s safe space, and the dynamic would change, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt by the exclusion.

Bella walked off without even muttering a goodbye. The slam of the door brought a stark realization of her profound solitude.

~~~

Weeks had gone by and Sloan heard from her father that Jacob was sick. It explained why Bella was acting so frantic, incessantly calling Jacob’s phone and Billy’s landline, in hopes Jacob would answer. She was acting like a crazy ex-girlfriend, hence why Sloan didn’t tell her about going over to drop off a get well card and homemade soup. She did not need Bella pleading to come along or disturbing Jacob’s peace while he recovered.

“How could you have gone without telling me?” Bella asked, with animosity dripping from her tone. “Did you see him? Did you talk to him? Why hasn’t he been answering my calls?”

“Bella,” Sloan began, “I only dropped a few things off. I didn’t talk to Jacob, I didn’t even see him. I only spoke to Billy and left. I stayed outside the entire time I was there. Jacob is sick. It’s probably something more than just mono, but whatever it is, Billy is worried it might be contagious.”

Once Bella realized Sloan didn’t have the answers she needed, she immediately went to their landline and called Billy’s again. “Hey Jacob, it’s me again. Just wanted to hear your voice…”

Bella was spiraling again. She tethered herself to Jacob, who made himself readily available to her in her time of need, but now that he needed space, she was lost. Edward really messed her up.

“Bella.” Sloan pulled her away from the landline. “Stop calling Jacob. Stop bothering Billy. Jacob needs rest, and hearing the phone ring several times a day is not going to help him recover any faster. He’ll get back to you as soon as he can.” Talking to Bella like a child had become an occurrence. She was just not getting it.

“Maybe you need some time to yourself. Away from Jacob,” Sloan suggested. “Spend some time with me. We haven’t had movie night in a while. Why not tonight? I can make us some popcorn and we can watch whatever you want.”

“I don’t want to be away from Jacob. Everything is better with him, easier,” Bella exclaimed. “It’s not the same with you.”

“You don’t mean that.” Sloan could feel tears bubbling up to the surface.

“I do,” Bella said, with absolute certainty. “I don’t want to spend any more time with you. I just want him.”

Him. Was she referring to Edward, her first love, or Jacob, the boy she had been co-depending on?

While the separation between Bella and Jacob was accidental, it had shown it was needed. Bella was co-dependent on others, more so on boys. Her behavior, Sloan noted, wasn’t healthy, and being away from Edward and Jacob only sent her spiraling out of her mind. It felt like Bella could not function without their attention. She would need to speak to their father about this revelation.

Bella had left soon after the end of their conversation, deciding it was beneath her, and Sloan knew Bella needed to find a better coping mechanism. She could not depend on others to fix her, to keep her from breaking.

~~~

Rain is a fairly common occurrence in Forks. Rain was nature’s way of restarting the cycle of life and Sloan’s routine of cozying up on the couch, watching a movie, and sipping on a cup of hot chocolate.

Listening to the sound of water droplets striking the roof and windows of the house always left her in a sleepy mood. If she wanted to watch a good portion of the movie, she would have to move quickly. She quickly brewed the hot chocolate while searching through her father’s DVD collection.

Once she picked ‘Legally Blonde,’ she wrapped herself in one of her warmest blankets. The house was quiet as her father and sister were out. Their father was working overtime tonight and would be back late, and her sister was somewhere doing God knows what. After their insightful conversation a few days ago, Sloan distanced herself from her.

Sloan heard the keys rattling and the front door opening. “Bella?” Sloan called out even though she figured it was her sister.

Without an answer, Sloan moved from her spot and called out again, “Bella, is that you?” When she turned to the front door, she could see her sister soaked to the bone. “Are you alright?”

“He doesn’t want me.” She whispered as her body shivered from the cold. Water was pooling beneath her in a puddle.

“What?”

“He doesn’t want to be with me.” She walked upstairs like a zombie, utterly lifeless, a trail of water following behind her.

“Make sure to take a warm shower,” Sloan called out before removing herself from her blankets and moving to clean up Bella’s mess.

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