#I need to stay at least 30 feet away from this man at all times

[jjba-smash-or-pass]

[onlyfezco]

Best Birthday Ever - Fezco

Summary: It's Fez's birthday and the first time you're celebrating the special day together. You want everything to be perfect but it's not exactly how you imagined it.

Fezco x Reader

Word Count: 2,935

Author's Note: Happy birthday Angus. I already got emotional this morning and I'm going to make brownies tonight in his honor. Sweet baby angel gone too soon 🩵 I had this idea last week when I realized his birthday was today and thought it be a nice way to think of him. Comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Fezco's birthday was today! Fez and you had only been dating for a few months, four to be exact, and this was your first major event together. He said he normally didn't make a big deal out of his birthday. Since his grandma's accident, it's just been him and Ashtray. Normally Ash would just give him one of those hostess cupcakes from the store and put a candle in it. Then they would end up at In-N-Out for dinner, then back at home to watch whatever movie Fez wanted. It was simple, but enough. No need to make a big fuss.

This year was going to be different, because he had you.

"Happy birthday, baby," you said as you walked into the store. Fez was sitting on the counter, a big grin on his face at the sight of you.

"Thanks, ma," he replied hopping down so he could hug you properly. You practically bounced on your feet to him and squished him as tight as possible in your arms without crushing the stuff in your hands.

"This is for you," you said as you pulled apart careful not to smush the bag you brought and the balloon attached. You handed him the iconic In-N-Out white bag with a T-Rex saying "Have a Dino-mite birthday" balloon attached to it.

"You didn't have to bring me lunch," Fez said as he opened the bag to peak inside at what you got him. You knew his go to order by now, so you already knew he'd like it.

"It's your birthday, and you decided to come to work. The least I could do is bring you lunch."

"Is that one for you," Fez asked, pointing to the other white bag behind you.

"Uh no," you said holding the bag up. "This one is for Ash. I didn't feel like hearing him complain that I brought you lunch and left him to starve." You rolled your eyes at the thought of the younger O'Neil whining, but you'd happily get him lunch.

"He's back there," Fez said nodding towards the freezers.

You made your way behind the sodas and beers spotting Ash in the same spot he's usually in at the store.

"Here," you said placing the bag on the desk Ash was sitting at. "Can't say I never got you anything."

"What, no balloon," Ash asked as he turned around in his chair to face you.

You tilted your head a him, a small smile on your face. "Don't be cheeky. You got your key," you asked holding your hand out.

"Yeah, yeah," Ash said. He reached into his front pocket for his house key, then dropped it in your hand. "Make sure you turn the alarm off in 30 seconds, or-"

"I know," you replied, dropping the key in your purse. "Just make sure Fez stays here so I can have enough time to make his cake and set up."

"I got you," Ash nodded then turned around to began pulling his food out. "And thanks for the burger."

"No problem, little man."

You walked out the freezer spotting Fez shoveling fries in his mouth. "I'm gonna head out, but I'll see you later. Call me when you get home."

"Okay, ma."

You gave him a kiss on his check then leaned back eyeing him. "You know there are napkins in that bag," you chuckled as you reached up to wipe some ketchup off the corner of his mouth.

"Why use a napkin when I have you," Fez replied as he grabbed your hand to place your finger in his mouth to lick the ketchup off.

You scrunched up your face in disgust but couldn't deny how cute your boyfriend was. "Ew, bye birthday boy," you said laughing pushing him away from you.

Once you got to Fez's house, you made sure to park a little further up the street so it would be a surprise that you were there. You walked into the kitchen and set all your supplies down on the counter.

"Okay, let's do this."

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, began playing your Summer playlist, and got to work.

Fez was a simple guy and liked yellow cake with chocolate frosting. You knew this because he took you to a diner and he raved about the cake. Well, raved for Fezco. Which meant he mentioned it before you went, ordered it for dessert, and ate the whole slice of cake in silence leaving no crumb behind.

You had only made a cake one other time with your mom when you were 10. Cookies were more your dessert of choice to bake, but you could do this for Fezco.

The batter was easy enough. You got a little messy when you poured in some of the wet ingredients. It would have been a lot worse if you made it from scratch, but thank God for Betty Crocker. Once you slid the pans in the oven to bake, you got to work on the decorations. You cleared the kitchen table off for the birthday tablecloth you got from the Dollar Tree. Sliding a kitchen chair to give your more height, you hung up the 'happy birthday' banner next. Last, you blew up a few balloons to hang around the banner.

You still needed to wrap your gifts, but you knew you had time once the cake cooled before you could put icing on it.

Once your alarm went off you took the pans out of the oven. One of them was a little more uneven than the other, but you were sure if you just put more frosting on one side it would balance out and not even be noticeable.

With the cake out of the way until it was cool, you began wrapping your gifts for Fez. One was already in a box so it was simple, but the other was going to be difficult. Yeah, you could have easily put the gift in a bag and throw some colorful paper on top, but you just preferred wrapped gifts. There was something about ripping the paper off to reveal a surprise that was more fun than just pulling it out of a bag. You knew you were making this difficult on yourself, but it was for Fez.

Your first wrapping attempt didn't go so hot. The item wasn't square so it was hard to fold the corners down. You took a deep breath and tried again. Attempt two resulted in the gift looking like you just balled the wrapping paper up. Now you were frustrated. This should be easy. You pulled up one of those Youtube videos on how to wrap weird items and just ended up with more of a bag look. You folded the paper first, then just slid your gift inside and taped the top shut.

You could finally move on to frosting the cake. Flipping the pans over, the cakes should have just slid right on out. You know you used enough grease. Taking a butter knife, you placed it between the cake and the pan to loosen it up. Flipping it again, the cake finally fell out.

"Ugh, thank you." You may have spoke too soon because when you felt the cake, it was still a little warm. "Shit."

Well it was just the bottom of the cake so maybe it wouldn't matter so much.

It mattered. The frosting wasn't sitting correctly. It got extremely soft and sort of slid off wherever you put it. You gave up and tried putting the cake in the fridge for a while. That should work. You could wash all the pans and bowls you used in the meantime, and you still had time before Fez got home.

Then your phone beeped letting you know you had a text.

Ashtray: Fez is closing up early. We're cleaning up then heading home.

"Shit."

The sound of the front door opening made you halt your movements, eyes shooting up to the entryway. You placed the butter knife down you were using to ice the cake and quickly made your way around the counter to the kitchen table.

"Surprise," you shouted. It came out a little more awkward than you'd like but you were unprepared and it made you flustered.

Fez's big grin was better than the lackluster smile you currently had on your face, but it didn't make you feel much better.

"You did this," Fez said gesturing to the decorations you put up. He knew it was you because Ash would never and this was very on brand for you. But he was just so surprised anyone would go through so much trouble for him, he couldn't help but ask.

"Yeah," you answered nodding. You clasped your hands in front of you, fidgeting with your fingers. "Um, I made a cake too but it's...," you trailed off, pointing back to the kitchen.

Fez rounded the corner to see the cake you made. Lopsided and half frosted.

"It's not all the way done," you said quickly. You stepped in front of him to block his view. "It takes longer for a cake to cool than I thought. I tried to hurry it and the frosting melted a little. Then I just put it in the fridge, and by the time Ash texted me that you were coming home... that's as far as I got."

"It's fine, baby. You can finish it now," Fez said. He saw the disappointment on your face and wanted to make you feel better.

"I thought I timed everything right. It's not even like I had much to do. I should've just made the cake yesterday like my mom said-"

"Y/N," Fez said reaching out to you. He grabbed you by your forearms to stop you from fidgeting. "It's fine. I'm just happy I got a cake at all."

"But it's all lopsided and only half of it's covered in frosting." You wouldn't meet his eye and you began tearing up. You were already sad, but now you were mad you were about to cry on Fez's birthday. He shouldn't be trying to make you feel better about your mistake on his day.

Fezco lowered his head to try to see your eyes. He hated that you were upset. "Ma, I know it's not exactly like you pictured it, but I'm sure it's still going to taste good. You know I don't need much."

"I just... I wanted everything to be perfect for you," you said, your shoulders slumping in defeat. "It's our first major thing together, and birthdays are really important to me."

Fez reached up, lifting your chin with his hand so you would look at him. "It is perfect, baby. You made it for me, and that's all I need for this to be more than enough."

"It's just-," you began before Fez interrupted.

"I love it. And I love you."

Fez said I love you. Fez just said he loves you! Your eyes went wide at his confession. It felt like your heart grew and was about to explode out of your chest.

"You do," you asked softly. Scared that if you spoke too loudly you'd wake up because this had to be a dream.

Pulling you in by the waist before he answered nodding, "Yeah... I do."

Before he could full process what you were doing, you placed you hands on his face and pulled him in for a kiss. Your fingers pressed into his cheeks feeling the coarse hair of his beard. It didn't take him long to kiss you back, his lips practically melting into yours. His other hand wrapped around your waist pulling your body firm against his.

Finally having to come up for air, you two pulled apart with a breathless laugh. Your eyes fluttered open, looking up at Fez doe eyed. "I love you, too."

Once you let go of the idea of tonight being perfect, everything went fine. Fez ordered some Chinese food while you finished frosting his cake. Now you knew you had to slice the top part of the cake off for it to be flat before you frosted it and can't just add more frosting to try to balance it out. You live and you learn.

Fez insisted on picking up the Chinese despite your protest. Once he got back, the three of you sat at the table and ate together. When you were all done, you went to the kitchen to light the candles on his cake.

"Get the lights, Ash," you directed, not leaving any room for debate. He rolled his eyes but did as you said. He just wanted some cake and didn't care for the theatrics.

You slowly made your way to the table singing happy birthday, the glow from the candles lighting up your face. Ash even sang along. More like mumbled, but it was better than nothing. Placing the cake in front of your boyfriend, you couldn't help but be proud of the smile that lined his face. You put that smile there.

After he devoured two slices of cake, Fez rubbed his hands together excited for his gifts.

"Okay, open this one first," you said placing the small gift in front of him. Ashtray did get his brother a gift, but he was too excited and gave it to him at breakfast before they left for the store.

He quickly ripped off the paper revealing the Polo by Ralph Lauren cologne. "I thought since you wore so much Polo, you'd appreciate some of their cologne," you said shyly explaining your gift choice.

Fez opened the box and pulled out the green bottle spraying a little on his wrist so he could get a good whiff of the scent.

"Nice," he said nodding his head liking the fragrance. "Thanks, baby." He leaned over and gave you a peck on your cheek. Your smile widened that he liked your gift. Colognes and perfumes were always hard to gift because you never knew if the other person would like it, but you knew Fezco well enough now. Even that being said, you were still a little worried about it.

You were also worried about your second gift. It's wasn't anything big, and you thought he may think it was dumb. That's why you gave him the nicer gift first so this one wouldn't have so much pressure on it.

"Okay, here's your second gift. It's nothing fancy, but I got an idea and ran with it."

This one wasn't wrapped as nicely as the cologne, but Fez knew he'd be happy with whatever you got him. "I already love it."

You giggled, "You haven't even opened it yet."

"It's from you so I already know I'll love it," he said leaning over to kiss you on the lips.

"Just open it," you replied.

He quickly ripped the wrapping paper off then carefully examined the gift. You eyed him waiting on his reaction. It was a ashtray you made by hand, painted green, with a heart in the middle that had both your initials in it. It looked like an art project a fourth grader made in class.

"I was at Michaels and they had this clay. I didn't know what I could make with it at first, and I know you already have enough ashtrays, but I wanted to make you something and that looked like the easiest-", you babbled, your nerves over if he liked it or not getting the best of you.

"You made this," Fez asked interrupting you.

"Uh, yeah," you answered hesitantly.

Fez put the ashtray down and pulled you into his lap. "I love it, ma," he said before connecting his lips with yours.

"Ew," Ash said as he got up from the table but neither of you paid him any mind.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him in closer to you. You could still taste the chocolate frosting on his lips. He squeezed your hip gently before he pulled away from you. "I love it. I can't believe you made this for me."

You laughed, your eyes crinkling in the process, "Babe, it's just a clay ashtray. Not like I knitted you a whole sweater."

"No one's ever made me anything," Fez said, his hand sliding up and down your thigh. "Well, Ash made stuff when he was in like the second grade, but that was just because the whole class was making stuff and he had to. But this...," he said lightly touching the ashtray, "you made this with your beautiful hands for me. I couldn't ask for a better birthday gift."

"Aww, baby," you cooed, your hand coming from around his neck to rest on his face. His beard rough against your soft palm.

It was moments like these that let Fezco know there was a God. Because how on Earth, could a low life drug dealer like him get lucky enough to not only find you, but have you love him. He stared at you intently, admiring every detail on your face.

Your face got hot under his gaze. "What," you asked laughing awkwardly.

"Nothing, I just love you."

You grinned wide, heart overflowing with love and pride at his words. "I love you, too." Then you leaned in for a chaste kiss. "Best birthday ever,"

"It's not even your birthday," Fez corrected, chuckling. "It's mines."

You shook your head. "I don't care. Best. Birthday. Ever," you said, punctuated each word with a kiss to his lips. To love and to be loved, you couldn't ask for anything better.

[pdriesta]

a lifetime of us — 3

an —a series of blurbs from past or present, following the main couple from “a lapse of us". this chapter contains smut (minors dni)

with 24 hours left in his hometown, pedri couldn’t imagine a better way to spend it than in between your legs.

he listened to your sounds, the pleasure bouncing off the walls of your room, his face dampened not just from his own arousal but from the heat emanating from your skin. you gripped his hair tightly, trying to keep your legs apart — failing miserably each time you tightened your grip around his head.

pedri ate like you were his last meal, and to him, you were. he knew his schedule would be packed once he touched down in barcelona tomorrow, but right now, nothing mattered more than you.

you felt the usual flood of pleasure rake through your body, but that didn’t stop pedri. after coming down from your high, he kissed you passionately, prepared to hold you for as long as he could before your parents came and insisted on spending time with him.

“that was —,” you breathed out, slumping your sweaty body on top of his. “unreal. how do you get better every time?” you asked seriously.

pedri chuckled, “isn’t it obvious? you’re my favorite topic to study, all the ways i can take care of my girl.”

your face was already flushed after the 30 minutes pedri spent between your legs. however, you felt your body heat up even more at his words.

“pedri,” you groaned, feeling his lips and his body rock against yours, clothed in what he usually slept in when he stayed over.

“sí, mi vida,” (yes, my life) he replied absentmindedly, peppering kisses along your collarbone. unlike him, whose shirt had been discarded as soon as your lips met, yours remained on.

contrary to your mom’s constant nagging about pregnancies and birth control, you and pedri had never taken that step. after growing so much together over the years and entering adulthood side by side, you always assumed waiting was your best bet.

you never imagined the thoughts and worries that flooded your mind now that the boy you loved would be away for the majority of the year after moving to barcelona. he promised to come back during the summer and any international breaks, but knowing how amazing he was, you had a sneaking suspicion it would be hard to align schedules.

today, however, with pedri on top of you, tenderly kissing your body, you knew in your heart what you needed.

“pedri,” you said again, threading your hands in his hair and tugging the strands the way he liked to meet his brown eyes with yours.

“mi vida,” (my life) he said back, staring at your swollen lips, feeling proud of his handiwork before pecking your lips.

suddenly, you sat up, and he moved to sit on his feet on your bed. without saying anything, and keeping your eyes fixed on his, you removed your shirt.

watching as you tossed it over the bed, pedri was confused, to say the least.

“what’s wrong, baby? are you too hot? i can adjust the thermostat,” he offered.

“no!” you quickly replied, not wanting him to leave in his shirtless glory. your body shivered at the sight of the slick layer of sweat on his skin. he had changed and grown so much into the man in front of you, and you were in awe, feeling a bit embarrassed now that you sat in front of him in just a bra.

“no, it’s not the temperature,” you finally said, “i’m ready.”

pedri’s mind went blank. after being together for so long, he knew what those words entailed, but he just couldn’t believe it.

“r-ready?” he repeated your words, not wanting to assume. you shyly nodded in response, dropping your eyes to your duvet-covered lap.

“sí, mi corazón. quiero tener sexo. quiero que nos quitemos la virginidad mutuamente,” (yes, my heart. I want to have sex. I want us to lose our virginity to each other) you finally spoke up. you didn’t want to lose your nerve; this was your best friend. he knew you like the back of his hand. you were the love of his life, and the only future he was certain of was the one with you.

however, in this moment, he wasn’t so sure. sure, there had been times where you both almost took the next step, but something always got in the way — whether it meant annoying siblings or demanding schedules, the stars never aligned until now.

“are you sure, mi amor?” (my love) he reached for your trembling hands in your lap. you wordlessly nodded but didn’t meet his eyes, and that’s how he knew you weren’t okay.

“y/n, baby, talk to me. what is this really about?” he moved from his spot in front of you to beside you, his arm around your shoulder, bringing you into his arms. he used his free hand to grasp your chin between his fingers, making you meet his eyes.

“nothing. i just want you,” you said barely above a whisper. “i want to be close to you. i want all of you, even if this is the last time,” your voice broke at the last words.

pedri felt like he was doused with a bucket of ice water at the realization. she thinks i’ll leave her behind.

“hey, hey,” he soothed, pulling you completely onto his lap. “mi niña bonita,” (my pretty girl) he cupped the side of your face, swiping your tears away. he looked at you with so much love in his eyes that you felt even more choked up.

“do you know why i call you mi vida? it’s the perfect term for you to understand that you’re my entire world. everything i do is for you. even when it isn’t about you, it’s for you. i’ve loved you since the very first day i saw you fall onto our football pitch. i’ve loved you through everything, and i will love you through this. this is your dream as much as it’s mine.”

“te amo también, mi corazón,” (I love you too, my heart) you sniffed while wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his neck. “i can’t help but think, though, you’ll find someone better, more experienced, and toss me away. you know how many women will flock to you. i don’t want you to leave and me not give you what was always yours,” you confessed.

“that’s what this is about?” he realized. “y/n, there is no one else on this planet meant for me but you. it’s never about experience because guess what? you’re my first everything. there’s no one else in the world i would ever want to be with intimately,” he ran his hands over your back.

even though pedri was shy himself, it being his first time too, he wanted to reassure you.

“are you sure? we don’t have to rush this. i’ll be back sooner than you know it,” he asked you once again.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, anchoring his body to yours. he braced himself on his elbows beside your head, making sure he didn’t crush you.

“i am sure, pedri. i want everything with you,” you said back.

this was enough for pedri to crash his lips onto yours like a madman. you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, and he took this as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

finally, amidst the haze and the fog of arousal, pedri pulled back. “espera, amor,” (wait, love) he breathed out, feeling his heart beating out of his chest.

“i don’t have anything, you know?” he gestured to where you ground on him through his briefs. you smiled at how shy your boyfriend was, even after all the dirty things he’d done to you.

“we don’t need any,” you replied, before registering your boyfriend’s shock.

“y/n, we can’t! i don’t want to get you pregnant. your family will kill me. hell, my family will kill me,” he quickly pulled back.

“no, no, baby,” you quickly sat up, following his movements, holding back a laugh. “you know how my mom is. she’s all about contraception and preventing accidental pregnancies. she took me to get birth control months ago. i’m safe. we’re safe,” you blushed, still feeling shy at the idea of your mom’s face while she encouraged contraception with your boyfriend.

pedri was beyond shocked now. he knew you weren’t a spontaneous person. you always thought about a million and one possible outcomes before making decisions. knowing you endured your mom’s goading to prepare for this moment was enough reassurance he needed.

“eres perfecta,” (you’re perfect) pedri murmured, meeting your lips once again, falling into you once more.

“mi vida,” (my life) he said while lining up. “esto va a doler.” (this is going to hurt.) he remembered how much you had to adjust to his mere fingers. he was shaking with fear at what might happen and all the ways he might hurt you.

“lo sé,” (I know) you nodded. “confío en ti con todo,” (I trust you with everything) you caressed his head before guiding him forward.

finally buried in you, he felt the tightness and restriction and shuddered. he looked at you, seeing the crease between your eyebrows and the pain on your face.

“mi vida,” (my life) pedri managed to let out.

“me duele,” (it hurts) you choked out, tears spilling from your eyes. if the enveloping warmth didn’t feel as good as it did, pedri would’ve pulled out right then and there, not wanting to hurt you. but after feeling you like this, there was no going back.

“lo sé, mi vida, lo sé,” (I know, my life, I know) he said, kissing your tear-streaked face. “¿qué puedo hacer para mejorar esto?” (What can I do to make this better?) he asked, desperate to ease your discomfort.

you shook your head, gripping his shoulders tightly. “solo quédate conmigo,” (just stay with me) you whispered, your voice trembling. the pain was intense, but you knew it would pass, and the idea of stopping now, of not sharing this moment with him, was unbearable.

“estoy aquí,” (I’m here) pedri murmured, brushing his lips over your forehead. he held still, giving you time to adjust, his heart aching at the sight of your tears. he wanted to take the pain away, to make this perfect for you, but all he could do was be there, holding you through it.

slowly, the pain began to subside, replaced by a dull ache that was easier to bear. you shifted slightly, and pedri took it as a sign to move, beginning to rock gently into you.

“está mejor ahora?” (Is it better now?) he asked, his voice full of concern as he watched your expression.

“sí, mejor,” yYes, better) you breathed out, a small smile tugging at your lips. the discomfort was still there, but so was something else—something deeper, more intimate, a connection that went beyond the physical.

pedri kissed you softly, his movements tender and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world. he murmured sweet nothings against your lips, his love for you evident in every word, every touch.

“te amo,” (I love you) he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“te amo, pedri,” (I love you, Pedri) you replied, your heart swelling with love for the boy who was now your first in every way.

the pain continued to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your body, making your toes curl and your breath hitch. pedri noticed, his movements becoming slightly more confident, though he was still careful, still gentle.

“you’re so beautiful, mi vida,” he said, his voice strained as he tried to hold himself back, not wanting to rush this moment, not wanting to lose control.

you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, pulling him down for a kiss. it was messy, full of heat and desperation, and pedri groaned into your mouth, finally giving in, his hips moving more urgently now.

the discomfort was almost entirely gone, replaced by pleasure that built steadily, making you gasp and cling to him, your nails digging into his back.

“pedri,” you whimpered, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

pedri’s breath came in ragged gasps, his heart pounding in his chest as he moved inside you with slow, deliberate strokes. every thrust was measured, as if he was trying to commit every moment to memory. it wasn’t just about the pleasure; it was about the love he poured into each motion, the way his hands roamed your body like he was trying to memorize the feel of you beneath him.

“y/n,” he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion. “i love you more than anything, más que todo, mi vida. you’re everything to me. please, don’t ever forget that.”

your heart clenched at the intensity in his voice, and tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from pain—they were from the overwhelming love you felt for him. “i won’t, pedri,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with emotion. “i love you too. so much. i don’t want you to go.”

he paused, his forehead resting against yours as he struggled to catch his breath. “i don’t want to go either,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “but i promise you, y/n, i’ll come back to you. siempre voy a volver, okay? nothing will keep me away from you.”

you nodded, swallowing hard to keep from crying. “i know, pedri. i know you will. just… don’t forget about me, okay?”

his eyes softened as he looked at you, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. “never, mi amor,” he vowed, his voice thick with emotion. “you’re the only thing on my mind. siempre estás en mi mente y en mi corazón. you’re my world, y/n. no one could ever take your place.”

as he spoke, he began to move again, slow and gentle, his hands gripping your waist as if he was afraid you’d slip away. each thrust was filled with love, with a desperation that mirrored your own. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him, to hold him as close as possible.

“pedri,” you breathed out, your voice hitching with emotion. “te necesito. i need you, now more than ever. i want you to remember this moment, every single detail, so you know that i’m always yours.”

“i’m yours too, y/n,” he whispered back, his voice trembling as he kissed you deeply, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that made your heart ache. “completamente tuyo, siempre. nothing will ever change that.”

you moaned softly against his lips, the sound muffled as he kissed you harder, pouring every ounce of love he had into it. the rhythm of his movements quickened, but he was still careful, still trying to ensure your comfort above all else. the pleasure built between you, a slow burn that intensified with each passing second, until you felt like you were on the edge of something beautiful, something that would forever bind you to him.

“mi vida, i can’t—” he gasped, his voice raw with emotion. “i’m close, so close. i need to feel you with me. por favor, mi amor, come with me.”

his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded, unable to speak as the pleasure reached its peak. your hands tightened in his hair, your nails digging into his scalp as you felt yourself unraveling beneath him.

“pedri,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you teetered on the edge. “te amo. te amo tanto.”

that was all it took. with a low groan, pedri buried his face in your neck, his body trembling as he came, his release triggering yours. you clung to him, your body arching into his as the pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.

for a long moment, neither of you moved, both too overwhelmed by the intensity of what you had just shared. pedri’s breathing was ragged against your skin, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if he was afraid to let go.

“don’t let me go, pedri,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “please, don’t let me go.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. “never, mi vida. i’m never letting you go,” he promised, his voice thick with emotion. “no matter where i am, you’ll always be with me. en mi corazón, siempre.”

you buried your face in his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, and for the first time, you truly believed him. you knew that no matter the distance, no matter the time apart, he would always come back to you.

“i’ll wait for you,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, but you knew he heard you. “i’ll always wait for you, pedri.”

he held you tighter, his lips brushing against your hair as he whispered, “and i’ll always come back to you, y/n. always. you’re my home.”

and as the two of you lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside ceased to exist. it was just you and pedri, in a moment of pure love and connection, a bond that no amount of time or distance could ever break.

you knew that tomorrow would come, and with it, the challenges of a long-distance relationship. but for now, in this quiet, stolen moment, you had everything you needed. you had pedri, and that was more than enough.

the airport was filled with the usual chaos—announcements echoing, people rushing by with luggage, and the occasional laughter from a distant group. but for you, the world had narrowed down to just one thing: saying goodbye to pedri. he was moving to barcelona to pursue his dreams, and while you were beyond proud of him, the thought of being apart was like a dull ache in your chest.

your families were there, gathered around in a small, tight-knit circle. pedri’s mom hugged him first, her eyes glistening with tears that she tried to blink away. “cuídate, mi niño,” she whispered, holding him close for a few seconds longer than usual. his dad gave him a firm, reassuring pat on the back, followed by fer, who pulled him into a brotherly embrace.

your mom was next, wrapping her arms around pedri like he was one of her own. “we’re all so proud of you,” she said, her voice warm but edged with the same sadness you felt. your dad followed, giving pedri a quick hug and a nod that conveyed more than words ever could.

caro was last, and as usual, she couldn’t resist teasing him, even in a moment like this. “now, you better watch out for those girls in barcelona,” she said, trying to keep it light but her tone carried a hint of protectiveness. “don’t let them distract you from your girl at home and your goals, okay?”

pedri chuckled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i promise, caro,” he replied, squeezing her hand before letting go.

rafael, still young enough to not fully grasp the gravity of the situation, gave pedri a quick hug and an innocent smile. “you’ll be back soon, right?”

“sooner than you think,” pedri assured him, ruffling his hair.

finally, it was your turn. but instead of stepping forward, you found yourself rooted to the spot, your eyes fixed on the floor. your heart was pounding, each beat echoing with the reality that this was it—he was leaving.

pedri noticed your hesitation, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “mi amor,” he called softly, his voice filled with an understanding that made your heart ache even more. “mírame, por favor.”

slowly, you lifted your eyes to meet his, finding the strength in his gaze that you desperately needed. he took a step closer, closing the distance between you two. “ven aquí,” (come here)he murmured, holding out his hand to you.

you hesitated for a moment, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe, let alone move. but the sincerity in his voice, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world that mattered, made it impossible to resist. you stepped forward, slipping your hand into his, the warmth of his touch grounding you in a way that nothing else could.

“it’s going to be okay,” pedri whispered, pulling you closer until your forehead rested against his. “we’ll make this work, no matter what. i promise.”

“i know,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky. “i just… i’m going to miss you so much.”

he tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped down your cheek. “i’m going to miss you too, more than you know,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “but this isn’t goodbye, okay? it’s just ‘see you later.’”

you nodded, trying to hold onto his words like a lifeline. but the reality of him leaving, of not having him by your side every day, was overwhelming. “pedri… what if—”

“shh,” he interrupted gently, pressing his lips to your forehead in a lingering kiss. “don’t think about the ‘what ifs.’ we’ve got this. i’ll call you every day, text you all the time—you’ll probably get sick of me.”

a small, shaky laugh escaped you, and you finally allowed yourself to wrap your arms around him, holding on as tightly as you could. “never,” you whispered, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “i could never get sick of you.”

he held you just as tightly, his hands stroking your back in soothing circles. for a moment, the noise of the airport faded away, leaving just the two of you in a quiet, bittersweet embrace.

finally, after what felt like both an eternity and a single heartbeat, pedri pulled back just enough to look at you. “i love you,” he said, his voice steady but filled with all the emotion he was holding back. “and nothing is going to change that. distance doesn’t matter when it comes to us.”

“i love you too,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “so much.”

he smiled, the kind of smile that was meant just for you, the kind that made everything else fade away. “then that’s all that matters,” he said softly. “we’ll figure out the rest.”

before you could say anything else, his parents gently intervened, suggesting that they give you two a moment alone. with a few soft words and understanding looks, your families quietly walked away, giving you the privacy you needed for this final, heartfelt goodbye.

with the terminal now feeling strangely empty, you turned back to pedri, taking in every detail of his face as if trying to memorize it. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “and don’t forget to eat properly, and—”

“i promise,” he cut you off, a tender smile playing on his lips. “and you promise me you’ll keep smiling, okay? don’t let yourself get too sad, because i’ll be back before you know it.”

you nodded, though your heart felt heavy with the weight of the impending separation. “i’ll try,” you whispered, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.

pedri leaned in, pressing one last, lingering kiss to your lips, his hand cupping your cheek as if to hold you there a little longer. when he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with the same mix of sadness and determination that mirrored your own.

as you stood there, your hands lingering on his chest, pedri couldn’t resist teasing you, hoping to bring a smile back to your face. “you know,” he began, a playful glint in his eyes, “it’s funny how you’re still so shy around me, even after everything we’ve done.” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and the memory of your last night together flooded back, making your cheeks flush a deep red.

“pedri,” you whined, half-embarrassed, half-amused, as you playfully swatted his chest. but the light teasing worked—your heart felt a little less heavy, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corners of your lips.

“there it is,” he murmured, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “that’s the smile i love. just remember that, okay? we’re going to be okay.”

with one last, fleeting touch—his fingers brushing against yours—he turned and walked toward the gate, his figure growing smaller with each step. you stood there, watching until he disappeared from sight, your heart aching with the emptiness he left behind.

but even as the tears finally fell, you clung to the hope in his words, the love in his eyes. this wasn’t the end—it was just the beginning of a new chapter. and no matter the distance, you knew your love was strong enough to bridge it.

next

© 2024 PDRIESTA

[mochinomnoms]

Thinking about the period stuff now and just thinking that the boys who would be total champs should Reader/Yuu be on would be;

Jamil - He's not only seen it all with his own sister, but has probably had to help Kalim's sisters at some point or another too. He's dealt with the worst cramps and flows to the "I didn't even notice I was on" girlies.

Ortho - Baby boys a walking Medwiki, has probably known your cycle before your first conversation with him. Would be more fascinated than grossed out by period stuff than most boys in the school.

Rook - Like Ortho, probably knows when you're on before you even realised you were and has a box of your preferred method of dealing with it in hand by the bathroom stall at the ready. Don't ask why he's in the toilet with you or how he knew what size pussy you wear, just be glad that in an all boys school, you have at least one (1!) friend willing to carry spare tampons/towls/mooncups/whatever for you.

Cater - Poor guys got 4 sisters and has been an unwilling student in all the "joys" of menstration. He'll look out for his favourite underclassman and bask in the praise of being such a reliable senpai/big brother type. But if his sisters are nuts normally, he's gonna have to work through some instense war flashbacks before he's any good to you.

Kalim - Most likely has a lot of sisters who are at the age where their dealing with this stuff, does his best bless him to take care of them but c'mon, it's Kalim. As soon as he tries people are calling for Jamil instead. That plus the sheer mythic level of cat fighting should any of his 30+ siblings syncronize means that like Cater, might be too scared to approach you at first but he makes it on this list for sheer effort and desire to help.

Of the human students, these all make a lot of sense! I def think the idea that Ortho already knew about your cycle before even knowing your name is super funny.

Little man's got a storage unit in him that has those stickable heating pads, pads/tampons, and pain medicine. One day, at a time that you know of Ortho, but never really spoken to him, he floats up to you. You're looking at him all confused before he opens up a compartment, takes out the above-mentioned supplies, and just hands them to you. He chirps about you needing them and lets you know that he's always well-equipped if you need anything else!

You're standing there with Ace and Deuce, confused. Your period doesn't start for another week, why did he—how does he even know your cycle? (That night, you notice that you started early).

And Rook? Fucking freak of nature he is. Why does he know your exact brand and period product preferences? Cause the man, similar to Ortho, is walking up to you one day, prattling on in poetic fashion about the beauties of human biology and reproduction (fucking weirdass). He hands you a small bag with your items, all the exact ones you get from Sam, down to the exact flow size. He tells you that you should consider heading to the bathroom now. Walking off, you freeze as you feel yourself get wet. You rush to the bathroom, finding that you started your period right at that moment.

Ortho is excusable, he's a robot. Rook's on thin fucking ice and is now required to stay 6 feet away from you at all times. If he wants to give you something, he can have Epel deliver it. He wins your favor back by buying you snacks, and you let him near you again. Just stop reciting poetry about the menstrual cycle, Rook I beg—

[oneoftheextras]

masterlist | got a request?

paring: luis serra x gn!reader

request: “less than 1,000? hmmmm….perhaps a super sweet domestic morning drabble with Luis and the reader?"

words: 994 (under 1k lets gooo)

'warnings': gender neutral reader, fluff, slight flirting

want a handwritten letter from a character?

"5 more minutes..." Luis groaned, the natural timbre of his voice deeper than usual due to the untimely disturbance of his sleep.

His arm was curled around your waist as he held you against his chest, the short coarse hair of his stubble prickling your bare shoulder.

"I can't!" you attempted to wiggle out of his grip the way you had been for at least the last 30 minutes, "I have to work," you aimed to bargain with a man who had decided your time was better spent cuddling.

When you started to slip from his grasp he held on tighter, pulling you back into him and nuzzling his face into your neck.

"Luis, please-" you whined with a lint of a giggle, "-you work from home, that means you can stay in bed with me all day." Luis' voice was slightly muffled due to his mouth being smoothed against your skin.

Your alarm sounded for a second time - your final snooze warning. "Seriously, I have to get up," you nudged him away from you and he reluctantly let go.

For as dramatic as he was being, he knew that he couldn't make you late to logging in for your shift.

You gave him a quick kiss on the forehead and slipped out of the covers, his arm that was draped over you falling softly onto the mattress that was still warm from your presence.

"It is torture to be without you, mi amor," his voice holding a lint of sarcasm as he veiled his forehead with his arm, mimicking a damsel in distress.

The eye roll you gave him was paired with a smile that only he could bring out of you, "I'm sure you'll survive," was the last comment you got in before you entered the bathroom.

Although he was out of your sight you still heard the faint call of "I'm not sure, I think it might be fatal," from the bedroom. You shook your head at his theatrics and turned the faucet of the shower towards you, and finding the perfect temperature to start your morning routine.

Despite being, quite literally, held back; you weren't running late for work which surprised you. With the scent of your body wash fresh on your skin you descended the creaky stairs of your home, now full dressed and ready for the day, with the location of the kitchen counter in your mind as your workstation.

The moment you stepped into the room; the cold of the stone flooring seeping through your socks and ambushing your feet that longed for the absent warmth of the shower again; the waft of breakfast hit your senses.

With the morning sun creeping through the large windows and creating a warm orange glow in the otherwise bright room, you saw Luis: standing over the stove in nothing but his socks and a frilly red apron you had bought him last Christmas.

"Ah there's the love of my life," he turned his head towards you slightly without taking his eyes off of what he was cooking, the cigarette that was wedged behind his ear swayed from the movement.

The surprise of seeing him out of bed had worn off and you were able to sit down at the counter and open your laptop. Unfortunately, the way your kitchen had been built meant that you had to have your back to him, but you could still hear him working away behind you.

"In the mood to break health codes today, are we?" you tease at his nakedness, "What can I say? You make me want to misbehave," he quipped, and you didn't need to be looking at him to know he was wiggling his eyebrows and giving you a cheeky grin.

It's a good thing you didn't turn to face him because suddenly his lips were against your temple and a mug of coffee was being gently placed down on the counter, next to your laptop that was slowly waking up.

As he retracted his head to continue what he was doing, you swivelled on your seat so you could watch him.

"You're in a good mood this morning," you commented, shamelessly admiring him as he worked. "Despite being so rudely awakened as well!" he opened his mouth after he spoke to give you a dramatic shocked expression.

"What did you do? What's broken?" you folded your arms across your chest and waited for the devastating news he was about to deliver that would explain his behaviour.

"Only my heart at these painful accusations", he had started to plate up what he was cooking, but still managed to split his attention evenly between that and you.

You continued to stare at him as though he would buckle under your gaze and tell you everything, but he held strong.

He set down the plate in front of you and the smell hit you even more than before as the steam rose from the dish. "My favourite!" you exclaimed and looked at him with a happy grin.

He handed you your cutlery and gestured for you to eat - "What did I do to deserve this?" you asked, cutting into your breakfast.

He slipped his arms around your waist and rested his head into the crook of your neck, giving it a small kiss, "Just continuing to be the best thing in my life-" he pulled his arms away to let you eat, but made sure to give you another kiss on the top of your head "-I wanted to remind you of how much you mean to me,".

You were about to reply when a ding came from your computer, notifying you it join your morning meeting. Clicking 'join' you quickly put your hand over your camera, remembering that Luis was still only wearing an apron, you waved for him to move out of view - and you watched the man you love leave the room with a wink you'd come to adore.

taglist (this is old so pls let me know if you want to be removed / added):

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest @kodzu-ken @moonnei @diesinspanishbcimhispanic  @fvckmeupyoonz @homosexualjohnwayne @notplutos @moth-baybee @answer-the-sirens @ochakoakabane

[amydiddle-fanfiction]

10 Years More (Stanley’s Tale)

Stanley Pines is hitting his late 30s. He has lived a hard life on the road and only when he was in his darkest moment in '82 did he finally turn to family to help. Now, after a few years of living with his older brother, he is mostly on his feet. There are still days where he sleeps in his car but he at least knows he can make an honest living and turn to some people when in a terrible bind.

Still the world does change in terrible ways and now Stan finds himself packing up once again to drive towards a person he is sure never wants to see him again just because his mother asked him to. The last time anyone even heard from him was that same year Stan dialed up Sherman's number, who said that the man just decided to fully cut himself off from family forever?

What kind of town was Gravity Falls anyways? Whose to say Stanford even needed help?

Ao3 (THE FIC THAT MAY NEVER BE COMPLETED IS BEING WRITTEN)

Chapter 3

Gravity Falls was a small town nestled in a strangely shaped valley and, from Ford’s notes, was a place that was full of weirdness that the citizen apparently ignored. From gnomes to weird doorways that should not be opened, they would happily keep their eyes shut. What they did not ignore was the new red car that was currently driving down the main road.

All eyes seem to be glued to the stranger as he made his way up Main Street.

Stan shrunk down in the driver’s seat as he pulled into the first food place he saw. It was a weird building, shaped like a log with a big sign that read ‘Greasy’s Diner’ up on top. Hopefully the place was not too expensive.

He tried to ignore the stares that were being not so subtly thrown his way as he opened the door.  

“Yeah, I know I’m good lookin’. Stop yer staring!” He shouted at a couple that had stopped mid-walk by to parking lot.

He watched the couple jump and scurry away, finally taking their eyes off him.

He knew he was a mess. Between driving up all night and cleaning up the office space in the house, he probably needed a good night’s rest. At least more then the few hours he got when he accidently drifted off in Ford’s room.

Stanley slammed the can door shut and locked it, shoving his hands in his pockets to subtly count what loose change he had saved from his last odd job. Hopefully it would be enough to last him however long he would be staying in this town.

He kept his head down as he moved up the stairs and into the Greasy’s proper. He could already feel the stares as he made his way over to the nearest booth and sat down.

“Well, I’ll be! If it isn’t the fancy scientist man up in the woods,” a voice said next to him.

Stan jumped and looked up. The waitress standing in front of him, Susan by her nametag, smiled down at him.

“We all thought you had split town with your buddy years ago,” she set a mug down and started to pour a cup of coffee without him even ordering one, “What brings you back to town, stranger?”

“Oh, I’m not-,” Stan tried to correct her but she just kept talking.

“You still doing your mysterious experiments up there in that house of yours?” She laughed, “I’d pay to see what crazy experiments you got cooking.”

“But the thing is...” he blinked, “Did you say pay?”

The woman smiled down at him, taking a notepad out of her apron, “Well sure. I ain’t going to just roam into your home without proper compensation. I’m just everyone would pay good money to check out what you had cooking up there all these years, especially after that disappearing act you did.”

Stan’s hand went back to the bills in his pocket. It was enough for a few days of diner food but would it keep him running as long as he needed to rebuild that portal? Then there was the issue of getting water, heat, and electricity turned back on. Plus, he would need to repair the house some if he was going to stay here for more then a few days.

“What about ten-no, fifteen bucks for a tour?”

“Really!” The woman’s eyes seemed to sparkle, “You would really give me a tour of your fancy science house?”

“Yeah,” Stan stood up, “In fact, I’ll give everyone a tour! Fifteen per head, no refunds!”

Everyone in the diner that had been watching the exchange seemed to turn away at that moment. The chatter in the diner growing to one of excitement as Stanley sat down and picked up a menu.

“Course I am gonna need to eat something first,” Stan said, “But then we an all head down to the…the Murder Hut and check out all the science doo-dads.”

“Well in that case, the meals on the house,” Susan cheered, “What name can I put down for the order?”

“Stan…ford. Stanford Pines.”

Susan wrote the name down and looked at him expectantly.

“And what can I get you, Stan?”

Stan glanced down at the menu. His mind churning with indecision. He was not sure why he had claimed his brother’s name, but everyone here seemed to believe he was some big science man with a spooky cabin. Maybe they would like it better if he WAS his brother.

“Just get me the Chef’s special, toots.”

He handed the menu back after his order was written down and tried to calm his racing heart. The chatter around the diner had not died and he saw a few people rush out with excitement. Maybe they would tell their friends about the newly opened Murder Hut and get him even more money.

He tapped his fingers a nervous beat on the table as guilt began to gnaw at him.

Maybe taking all these people would be a bad idea. He hadn’t done a con in years, what if they saw right through him and just chased him out of town. What was he even going to show them, he didn’t know any science.

He was broken from his nervous thoughts by a plate being set down in front of him.

“Thanks, Susan. You’re a really doll.”

The waitress giggled, “Have a good lunch, man of mystery.”

Stan cut into his pancakes and hummed in thought. He would just have to wing it, he guessed. Not that he was not used to that. If he wanted to survive out here in Gravity Falls, this might be the only way how.

It took no time at all to finish up his meal. Even without needing to pay, he still slapped a few bills down for a tip. Susan would be giving it back anyway, plus if she didn’t like the tour he could still claim he did give her money for the food.

“Everything to your liking, I see,” Susan said as she picked up the plates.

“Everything was great. Compliments to the chef and the lovely waitress that served me.”

Susan laughed and waved a hand at him, “Oh stop it you. But actually, keep going.”

Stan laughed awkwardly as he slipped from the booth and slipping his hands into his jacket pockets.

“I should have everything ready for a tour in an hour. So don’t be late,” he winked.

Susan gave another one of her laughs, “I can’t wait. I’m sure am excited to see what you have been doing up there these past ten years.”

“Yeah,” Stan scratched at the back of his neck, “I am too. I mean, excited to show everyone. It’s gonna be great.”

“Well, see you soon Mr. Mystery.”

She winked, saying the word wink as she did, before moving on to help the next customer. He took that as his chance to escape. He had to make it back to the cabin to make is presentable for people as quick as possible.

The car ride back to Gopher Road was one that seemed to take longer than he was expecting. Not that there was traffic but that his head was running through all the possible things he was going to tell these people that would make fifteen dollars a head worth it.

He did not know half the stuff locked away in his brother’s house, let alone enough to explain it.

As he pulled in next to the broken-down truck, he looked at the cabin in a light of an outsider. When he first arrived here, he had thought this place was a creepy abandoned shit hole. It still looked like that even in the light of day.

“How am I supposed to sell this place to them?”

He felt his palms sweat as he slammed the car door and rushed inside. Looking around at the dirt covered floor and grimy walls. As he moved through the house, he nearly tripped over his feet when he passed by the room that held the basement door.

Stan backed up and looked into the darkened room. Shelves on shelves of knick-knacks and doohickies were there. Those roobs had to find some of this stuff interesting.

“Alright, let’s get to cleaning.”

It took nearly the whole hour, but Stan thought he got the large room looking at least a little presentable. He was even careful enough to push a shelf in front of the basement door so nosy townsfolks would not ask to see the portal. He was not sure why, but he had a feeling that there were some things in this house he needed to hide even from them.

Wiping his hands on his jeans, he stepped out into the fading light. His fingers fumbled with the cigarette box he kept in his jacket pockets.

He felt nervous. Nervous that they would all demand their money back like every other scheme he conjured. Nervous he would be chased out of town. Nervous he would be found out pretending to be his much smarter twin brother.

As he took a drag from the cigarette, he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. The relief did not last long. As he stomped on the smoldering ember a car pulled into the empty lot. Then another. And another. A few people coming on foot walking up with Susan at the front.

He felt the judging stares at the state of the house. He was pretty sure he needed to get someone to look at the roof, it probably would leak next rain storm.

Stanley rolled back his shoulders and gave the biggest grin he could as he stepped off the porch.

“Welcome to the Murder Hut…name still in progress.”

The crowd gathered around him as he stood on the top step.

“Everyone here? Everyone got cash? Good. Good.”

He took the offered bills without complaint, his smile becoming a little more genuine as he counted the amount of bills that had piled up in his hand.

“Alright. Step right up, folks, uh, to a world of... enchantment, or whatever.”

Stanley opened the back door cautiously, his palms sweating as he heard all the muttering behind him. Leading into the weird storage room close to the basement was the only plan he had. The rest of the house was trashed, after all, and this was the room with the most scientific junk. Plus, it was a large enough space that he could grow the business.

“Um, step this way. Feast your eyes on scientific wonders that the world has never seen.”

He weaved the crowd through the shelves, looking around for something that would entertain these patrons. He snatched a box off the shelf with two antennas protruding from the top. He spun around and messed with the dial as the tour group gathered around.

“Behold the, uh, nerdy science box.”

The box suddenly gave a spark. Unfortunately, it gave off such a large spark that it hit Susan in the eye.

“Ah! My eye!”

Stan felt his palms sweat more as he scrambled to set the box back on the shelf, “I can assure you that is no way permanent.”

He had no idea if it was, but a medical emergency was not a good idea for the start of his business. If this could become a business.

“I paid fifteen dollars for this!” Susan exclaimed. She had a hand over the eye that was just zapped but Stan could already tell it was puffing up.

The rest of the tour group began to mutter in discontent. The world seemed to be tunneling in on Stanley. If he could not get a steady income plus had the stain of hurting a towns person, he would have to leave town. If he left town, he would never find that second journal. Then Ford would never return.

“Um…uh…” Stan looked around the room with what he hoped was not a too panicked expression. He grabs a skeleton model he had dressed up out of boredom during the cleaning process. It looked like a tourist.

“you're lucky you weren't part of the last tour group,” He spun the skeleton around to reveal it to the group in its gaudy get up, “they never made it out aliiiivve. Heheh. Right?”

The crowd stared at him. He felt his soul be crushed as he tried to think of the quickest route back to Sherman’s place in California. Then Susan laughed.

Her laughter seemed to prompt the rest of the group and Stanely could not help but to join in.

“That’s funny,” Susan said, “Alright, show us what else you got Mystery man.”

“Right this way.”

Maybe he could make this work. He had to. For Ford.

[abarbaricyalp]

If you can combo 5,6, 30 intimacy for Sam and Bucky... Thank you

5: holding hands, kissing the back of it 6: kissing the tip of their nose 30: being protective Not gonna lie, I had difficulty imagining them being in a situation where they'd be kissing each other's hands and noses while also needing to be protective 😅 I know this is probably not what you had in mind, but it would not leave my mind.

All things considered, a cave behind a waterfall was pretty damn romantic. Bucky had found the cave. The dinosaurs they were hiding from, were not his fault. He should get all the points for the romanticism and lose nothing for the dinosaurs.

"Let me see your hand," he said, scooting closer to where Sam was washing his hand off in the waterfall. They should stay away from it. Who knew what kind of vision dinosaurs had. Sure, he'd been obsessed with them as kids, but he was pretty sure dinosaurs were one of those things that books in the 20s had been wrong about.

Sam held out his hand without complaint, which was a small miracle. "I cut it while we were climbing," he explained. He sucked in a sharp breath as Bucky put his thumbs on either side of the gash in his palm. "It's pretty deep."

Bucky nodded in agreement. For the first time in this whole forsaken night, the fact that they weren't in battle gear was actually helpful. He tore off the hem of his shirt and tied it around the middle of Sam's hand. It was not remotely sterile, but he couldn't really do anything about that. This would at least keep him from bleeding so badly and maybe keep dirt from getting in easily.

Sam stared at his hand, cupped gently in both of Bucky's and then let out a short laugh. "Oh my God, we look like a stupid action movie."

Bucky thought they looked like stupid action movies pretty regularly, but he figured Sam meant an action adventure movie. One of those ones with jungles and cargo crates and giant monsters, ancient runes and lost cities. Impossible feats of strength, like jumping over a ratty bridge or climbing up the side of a ship in the middle of a storm or hanging out of the blown out window of a two-seater plane. Probably based on a video game or some other existing IP.

"Those don't usually start in the middle of dinner at a local pasta place," Bucky pointed out. "We didn't even get our second glass of wine."

"It was good wine. Congrats on recognizing that. I'll make you a cultured man in no time." Sam started to pull his hand back, started to make to get to his feet.

Bucky curled his fingers around Sam's, up high, away from the cut. Sam settled back on the rocky ground with a raised eyebrow. "We can't wait around for someone to throw another temporal displacement bomb at us, Buck," he pointed out. "We've gotta figure out a way out of here."

"I know," Bucky accepted, though he kind of didn't think it'd be that easy. Without any reinforcements, without any gear of their own, what the hell were they going to do? Use their cells to call for help? He doubted that even the Kimoyo beads could traverse millions of years. And no one knew where they were, or were expecting them some other place. They wouldn't be missed until something else exploded or they missed the next call-out. It had been a long time since Bucky had felt helpless--he could force his body to extremes unheard of to survive, to protect Sam--but being chased by a dinosaur he couldn't name through forest growth so dense and thick and large the sun didn't reach the ground and then being forced to climb a cliff face so new every rock was rough and unpolished had just about wrung out the hope from him.

"I just..." He hesitated for a second, then brought Sam's hand up to his mouth and placed a soft kiss over the bandage on his palm, then turned Sam's hand over to kiss his scrapped up knuckles. "Just wanna make sure you're okay before we get back to adventuring."

Sam's face softened. He put his other hand to Bucky's cheek, thumb brushing over the crooked prop of it midway down where he'd been hit by a falling rock earlier. "I'm okay, Buck. Eventually, we'll have to add lizards to our list."

"What list?" Bucky asked, shaken from his deepening, pooling panic. Back to the world of a beautiful waterfall and dappled sunlight just for a second.

"Androids, aliens, and wizards."

The force with which Bucky rolled his eyes was enough to skyrocket the blooming headache snaking through his brain. "You can't say wizards and lizards in the same stupid catchphrase."

"Sure I can," Sam scoffed. "We're fighting morons who call themselves the Serpent Society. I think we need to add lizards."

"Just accept that you and I do not fight wizards that often," Bucky insisted.

"We fight wizards plenty."

"When, Sam? When do we ever fight wizards?"

"Loki," Sam said.

"Loki is a god. Apparently. And neither us ever fought him."

Sam reached over then, hands on either side of Bucky's face, and realigned his nose with an audible crack of cartilage snapping back into place.

Bucky had been led to believe by countless sci-fi books and his favorite modern movie that dinosaurs hunted by sound because their eyesight was bad. This was the only reason he did not howl with indignant pain and anger. He smacked his hands up against his own face--which did not make anything feel better--and glared at Sam--the effect of which was lessened by the tears that had naturally sprung to his eyes.

"Asshole," he ground out. "I told you it would set itself. The serum always puts things back where they belong."

"I couldn't stand looking at it anymore," Sam defended. "And it was making your voice sound weird. Move your hands." He batted Bucky's hands away and examined the line of his nose, then the full effect of his face. "Right as rain. Stop being a baby." He leaned forward and kissed either side of Bucky's nose, then the bruised bridge of it, then brushed the tip of his nose against Bucky's in apology.

Fine, that was enough to sate Bucky. He brushed his nose against Sam's again before leaning back against the cave wall. "How are we gonna get out of this one, Sam?" he asked.

Sam adjusted to sit beside him, grimacing as rough rock bit into his shoulders and back. "I don't know. Do you think the temporal imbalance will still be where we came in at? It disrupts the fabric of time and reality, right?"

"I don't think anything at all about this shit. I just call Strange and tune him out when he gets bitchy."

"So, all the time," Sam surmised with a tired, but affectionate, grin.

"Yeah, kind of," Bucky admitted. He dropped his arm around Sam's shoulders and pulled him closer. "Do you know anything about dinosaurs?"

"Not really," Sam admitted himself. "I missed both boys' dinosaur phases."

"Do you think they're, like, diurnal?" Bucky ventured.

"No idea. There had to have been some nocturnal ones, right?"

"Yeah, but probably not the big ones."

Sam's eyebrows rose in thought. "They're all big, but I guess that kind of makes sense. So, what did you have on you for our date night?"

Bucky looked at Sam with a little bit of an abashed look. "Don't make it sound like I wore a tac belt," he muttered. "I just have a few knives. Didn't even have a gun in my jacket. Wherever that is now. I don't think a handful of combat knives are going to help us out here."

Sam had retrieved his own knife and flipped it around in his fingers. Each time the sharp side passed over the pads, it made an low scratching sound. Sam didn't need Bucky to tell him to take care of his shit and clearly he did it well. It still wasn't going to help.

"The only thing we can try is looking for that temporal weakness," Sam decided. "And the longer we wait, the more likely it is to close."

"I'm gonna tell Torres you had no faith in his ability to find us," Bucky threatened emptily.

"I don't think he'd blame me," Sam assured. He stood, then offered his hand down to Bucky to haul him up. "Hopefully we'll be able to tell when something big is coming at us. We didn't recognize the sound last time because we weren't prepared. Now we know what we're up against."

Bucky nodded. "Stay close to me, alright? Vibranium is still stronger than dinosaur teeth."

"Your arm is the size of their toothpicks, Buck," Sam pointed out, but he let Bucky take the lead.

Bucky half expected something to be waiting for them as they came through the water. They had to get into it to get back to the cliff face and all he did was hope there was nothing flesh eating in the water. Large or otherwise.

But there was nothing waiting for them and nothing eating them. A win all around.

The water helped wash away some of the grime and blood though, which was nice. Bucky had no idea if dinosaurs had acute olfactory systems, but he imagined smelling like the landscape and not unknown human should help. Besides, he thought better when he wasn't disgusting.

The climb down was a different kind of difficult from the climb up. Gravity was useful, but neither of them could see what they were doing and Sam kept managing to put his foot down on Bucky's fingers.

"I'm usually flying," Sam pointed out in a hiss while Bucky pulled out some ancient foul language on him. "I don't have to climb."

Impossibly, they managed to get to the ground without dying. The landscape they'd been dropped into was wetter and greener than Bucky had been expecting. There was foliage and trees and the cliffs provided run off that snaked around in thin streams. It had been a mad dash earlier to find shelter, so Bucky hadn't been able to examine their current prison. He wasn't sure what the safest route-of-action would be.

Sam kept looking up at the trees, but he evidently wasn't finding what he was looking for because he kept walking with a grunt.

"I don't think we should risk eating anything yet," Bucky called over to him, jogging a little to catch up. "That should really be a last ditch effort. Like...you should eat me before you eat something you find here."

Sam's nose scrunched in abject disgust. "I'm not eating you. I'm not looking for food," he added. "I'm looking for birds."

"Why?" Bucky asked. "I don't think birds existed back here. They're all, like, pterodactyls."

"Pterodactyls aren't the closest relatives to birds," Sam corrected. "I mean, like, birds are the closest living relative to pterodactyls, but not the other way around."

"Why are you looking for birds?" Bucky redirected. Because he kind of didn't care about living relatives when they were stuck with the old version.

"Because I--" Sam stopped suddenly, just on the other side of an opening in the tree line. "Buck," he warned so quietly Bucky almost couldn't hear him. Bucky pushed away the safety bar arm that had gone out in front of him so he could stand by Sam.

In the clearing, there was a whole entire T-fucking-rex.

There were lots of times Bucky's thinking brain shut down in favor of his fighting brain. Back in the war, he'd always felt like something else took over his body and moved it around like the worlds most skilled marionette. Since breaking Hydra's conditioning, he'd felt the Soldier settle into his skin during difficult fights.

Coming face to face with a real fucking T-rex, huddled like the world's largest chicken over a nest, had about every dissociative disorder filling Bucky's bones and muscle and soul and hollow spots. He put himself in front of Sam immediately, pushing Sam back so that he'd have a head start on the running.

The dinosaur was tense, but hadn't stood. Bucky had a cat. He knew that look. He knew that not standing didn't mean anything for a predator with power. It was watching them intently. Buck felt like he couldn't move.

"Sam, run," he whispered, pushing at Sam's hip again. "I'll distract it. You need to get back to the cliff."

"Shut up," Sam whispered back. "Just...just let me think. Give me a second."

The T-rex crouched. Terror punched through Bucky like a real object. He almost got sick with it. "Sam, please," he begged. "Get out of here."

"Hey," Sam said. Loudly. Bucky jumped and looked at him with wild desperation. "We're not here to hurt you or those eggs," he said. "We didn't mean to walk this way."

The T-rex cocked its huge head. It blinked, the way lizards did, which was uncanny. And then, for some reason, it settled back down.

"What the fuck is happening?" Bucky whispered.

"I'm saving your life," Sam answered. To the T-rex, he added, "Are there others around? We could use some help."

The T-rex bellowed. It wasn't like in Jurassic Park. It was...deeper. Fuller. Not so metal-on-metal reverb screeching. It was still damn terrifying and Bucky yelped a little. "What the fuck, Sam?" he hissed.

"T-rex is one of the closest relatives to birds. I can talk to birds, ergo I can talk to dinosaurs," Sam explained like that made any sense.

"What the hell do you mean you can talk to birds? Did it just call another T-rex over here?"

"Actually, she called the other one to some other spot. She wouldn't want it near her nest. We have to go meet it."

"Like hell," Bucky objected.

"Do you want to make this trek on foot again? How did that turn out for us last time?"

"What do you mean you can talk to birds?" Bucky repeated.

"Thank you very much," Sam said to the dinosaur. "And sorry again." He ducked back into the tree line and pulled Bucky with him. "I'll explain later. Right now I need to focus. It's not the same as with birds. I'm having to think a lot more here."

"Did you drink the water? Are you having hallucinations? Hell, am I?"

Sam pinned an unimpressed look on him. "Let's just get going before she changes her mind," he said blandly.

Not for the first time that afternoon, Bucky wondered what the hell his life was.

[auniverseforgotten]

I am snuffling in your inbox and nosing about the ao3 wrapped [writers edition]: 6, 10, 11, 15, 16, 26, 29, 30

WAHOOOOOOO WELCOME TO MY INBOX WOLFIE ask game is here for anyone who wants to do it or send anything in!

6. Favorite title you used?

HONESTLY THE SUCKY PART IS MY FAVORITE TITLE IS FOR A FIC I'M WORKING ON RIGHT NOW DFXCGV and I don't know if I can get the first chapter out tonight [I feel like it's not really countable unless it's ON ao3 since this is ao3 wrapped not writer's wrapped] so I'll use something else BUT WHEN IT GOES UP IT'S THAT ONE.

Anyway I would say prooooooooobably please god don't let this be my legacy just because it hits me hard and it feels so unfair that Salieri is the way he is like. THAT'S ALL FAKE. IT'S ALL FAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE ;A; at least Fate acknowledges it's rumors unlike Amadeus, the Rock Opera one, Pushkin, etc. NO HATE TO ANY OF THOSE I'm sure they're also good I'm just whining because he was SUCH A GOOD MAN and he deserved BETTER.

10. What work was the quickest to write?

I thiiiink it's either The Gospel Truth or Buon Compleanno!! (Sorry About Your Sleep). I know Buon Compleanno was one day bcus I was like OH SHIT SALIERI BIRTHDAY TODAY??? I just can't remember if Gospel Truth was the same. Included bcus I'd been floundering on the prompt I had for AGES, finally scrapped it, and boom out in a day or so.

Could also be From the Heart which I wrote to try and manifest Dantes and it DID NOT WORK though i do have him now.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

I feeeeeel like that's gonna be Do You Miss Us? because it had a lot of moving parts and also I was struggling on what to keep and what to leave. It mostly stayed the same is the thing, which is why I would count it over others. I'm not counting O Fortuna because that is the longest but it's also not complete.

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

I am taking ALL MY WIPS INTO NEXT YEAR with me NO WIP LEFT BEHIND though if we're talking published, O Fortuna. I do also have a WIP in the Enchanted Forest Chronicles fandom but I need to do a reread and rewrite the entire first chapter [and only one currently] because I don't really like how it reads anymore....I may just repost it so that people can have the old chapter if they like? Idk, it won't be for a while yet so I have time to think.

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

To everyone's surprise, angst. That me it me it my brand my good ol tasty angst juice get it while it's gut-wrenching.

26. What’s your most common category?

M/M, not too surprising given that most of my writing is the composer blorbos sxdfcghv or the sad Irish blorbos or the sad Welsh blorbos. I WILL WRITE MORE LADIES I WILL.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

I liked a lot of the lines I did, especially in saliama fics bcus there's so much to mess with there. But I would say the apocalypse from Requiem is big vibes for me. Context is the Russian Lostbelt ending and Salieri dies with it, instead of being added to the throne. He was called there to fix the Mozart issue, he fixed it, and now. There's nowhere for him to go. <3

For an apocalypse, it is a beautiful one. Mountains crack and crumble, massive sheets of rock glimmering out of existence right before they strike the shifting ground. Great cracks appear underneath the snow and ice, underneath the piano and his feet, hissing with fading magic. Salieri turns from the crumbling world around him to look at the stars, as one by one they lose their light. The moon shudders, cracks in two, and pours liquid light from the sky. Silvery and oh so cold, he watches it wash away mountains, buildings, battlefields all in one. Darkness chases the light, plunging the land piece by piece into eternal night.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Not to sound self-deprecating because I know that's how it sounds but uhhhh probably the fact that people wanted to read my fics? Like November of last year I was like oh man people like my fic enough to read them...that's so cool....and now I'm like OH MAN I'VE MADE FRIENDS WITH SO MANY COOL PPL BCUS OF THE BLORBOS.

I dunno. Every time I'm in a new fandom there's that feeling of I'm never going to be a good enough writer for this, why am I trying, and for a few bigger fandoms like Tolkien and Star Wars I never escaped that feeling so I stopped trying. But then you and other people in the Fate fandom really kept me going because you liked my work?? The reason I feel confident enough in writing the blorbos is thanks to all of you. ;w; Hell I have like seven transformers wips now because of Tea's encouragement [love u Tea]

And it's the same for pairings too, I've had a couple mutuals who REALLY boosted my confidence with writing fionndiar or beditris for example and it...really helps me keep going. I know the first rule is write for yourself but I like to share and it's so nice that people like my writing enough to read it and even nicer when they like it enough to let me know they liked it. ;w;

So what I'm SAYING is the biggest surprise was getting to know so many really nice people and making good friends. ;w; Yes yes the power of friendship I CAN HEAR YOU CACKLING FROM HERE WOLFIE.

THANK U SO MUCH FOR THE ASK <3

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {22}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, hurt/comfort - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

It was almost midnight local time when we landed in Montreal and Addie was fast asleep. I thought she was going to stay awake the entire flight the way she was bouncing on her seat with excitement, more than ready to see Pierre again.

For the first time, I was dreading it.

I had been awake for more than 30 hours, and I had spent every second of the flight dissecting every word we had exchanged on the short phone call. 

‘Are you alright?’ 

‘Fine.’ I lied. ‘You?’  

‘Don’t worry about me.’ 

‘I should have told you.’ 

‘We’ll talk about it later.’ The flight attendant had announced that cellphones needed to be turned off and Pierre had sighed. ‘Je t’aime.’ 

When was ‘later’? And what exactly did he want to talk about? My mind ran through all the possible answers to the questions and every scenario seemed to be more daunting than the last until the wheels touched down and my stomach lurched. 

Was the sigh one of sadness or pity or exhaustion? He said he loved me, that was a good sign. At least I hoped. 

I slung my handbag over my shoulder and picked up Addie, her head coming to rest on my shoulder as she remained asleep and I made my way out of the first class cabin. 

It felt like I was sleepwalking, my feet moving on their own accord and not through any conscious thought of my own. I’m surprised I didn’t flag the security as they asked me the standard questions when I showed my passport. 

“No, not here on business,” I replied in a daze.

“Anything to declare?”

I’m emotionally unstable and might just vomit all over your bench. “No, nothing.”

“Enjoy your stay, Miss Vowles.” He stamped the entry permit onto the next free pages of our passports before handing them back and waving me through to the arrivals lounge. 

Our flight had been full and arrived not long after Pierre’s was supposed to land, so there was still a large crowd despite the late hour. The sudden influx of noise stirred Addie and she lifted her head to look around at the families reuniting. Her eyes lingered on a girl a little older than her as she ran away from a woman and into the arms of a man, screaming ‘daddy’ excitedly. 

She had never really asked questions about her father and I wondered now what she was thinking as she stared at the three of them hugging each other tightly. 

Suddenly she started squirming in my arms and I grunted at the shift in weight as she kicked my suitcase from my other hand. I carefully lowered her to the ground before she moved in a way I couldn’t and was dropped but the moment her feet touched the universal grey vinyl flooring she took off.

“Addie!” I cried out as she disappeared into the crown and I rushed to chase her down.

I stumbled to a stop when I broke through the line of people and heard her squeal with joy as she was lifted into the air. 

“I missed you, princesse,” Pierre said with a grin after catching her and holding her tight. He looked up when Addie turned and pointed to me and the smile was lost as he took a slow step forward, concern replacing the joy his face had held. “Mon ange, you look…”

“Like shit?” I offered but he shook his head and opened his free arm instead of reaching for me. He had always been perceptive of me and it showed when he gave me the choice of his embrace, and I think he had a new understanding of why since seeing the interview. 

I stepped into his arms and wrapped mine around him and Addie. 

“You look tired, mon amour,” he murmured as he kissed my forehead. “Beautiful, but tired.”

“It’s been a rough few days,” I admitted as I looked up at him and saw dark bags under his eyes that hadn’t been visible on the many video calls he managed to make time for. “For the both of us.”

“The worst four days of my life,” he whispered before turning to Addie. “Have you been good for mama?”

Addie was frowning as she looked around the airport and it was like she hadn’t even heard Pierre. We followed her gaze and she was staring at the little girl she had seen before. It was only as they turned and left that Addie looked at Pierre, her head tilted to the side as she poked him in the cheek. “Daddy?”

My lips parted but no words came out as I looked at Pierre, his eyes fixed on Addie. I didn’t know what he was thinking as he kissed her forehead and closed his eyes and gently swayed us side to side. 

“You’re going to rock me to sleep, babe,” I said with a yawn as the days finally caught up with me.

Pierre chuckled and let me go so he could take my suitcase for me. “Come on then, love, the driver’s out front waiting for us. Wait, is that my hoodie?”

His eyes trailed over my body properly for the first time and I bit my lip as I gave him a twirl so he could see the GAS 10 print on the back. “You have so many, I figured you wouldn’t notice if one went missing.”

“It looks good on you, really good,” he said with a wink and a charming smile. “It’ll look even better on the floor.”

The shadow of doubt in my mind wasted away and I felt the tightness in my shoulders and back ease as I realised that while things had changed for me, our relationship was still the same. He was still my flirty and funny and sweet Pierre.

“With pick up lines like that it’s hard to believe you were single when we met,” I teased. 

“I must be a masochist because I missed your sass too.”

“English is a difficult language, it’s pronounced ass.”

Addie lifted her head off Pierre's shoulder and pointed at me. “Mama, naughty word.”

“Yes, mama is being very naughty,” Pierre agreed with a smirk on his face that promised I would pay for the comments later in the best way imaginable. 

Addie was asleep by the time we reached the hotel and Pierre carried her up to our suite, tucking her into bed with a kiss on her forehead while I watched the tender moment from the doorway. I could see why she asked if he was her dad. He treated her the same way she observed fathers treating their daughters and I had seen that lightbulb moment at the airport.

I just didn’t know how Pierre felt about it.

“She missed you a lot,” I said softly as he turned out the light and closed the food behind him.

He took my hand and led me away from our bedroom and into the lounge instead. “I missed her too.” I looked back longingly at the bed I could see down the hall and Pierre chuckled at the pout on my lips. “I know you’re tired, love, but we need to talk.”

I stumbled over the edge of the rug and Pierre stabilised me but I couldn’t find my voice to thank him as those thoughts I thought had been banished came rushing back. ‘We need to talk,’ was usually followed by something bad, and I had spent seven hours on a flight imagining every outcome.

“Hey, hey, you zoned out on me,” Pierre soothed as he cupped my cheeks and guided me back to his eyes. “Let’s get you to bed, this can wait until you’ve rested.”

“No,” I rushed, covering his hands with mine to stop him pulling away. “I won’t be able to sleep until I hear what you have to say.” 

He pulled me down on the couch beside him and draped his arm over my shoulders. It should have been cosy but he was upset as he absentmindedly rubbed at his beard and stared at our reflections on the dark tv in front of us. “What you did today, I can’t imagine how hard that was and I hate that I wasn’t there for you.” He turned to look at me with tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. And I am so fucking proud of you, Bri.”

“What?” I couldn’t have been more stunned at the direction of the conversation and my overthinking had led me down a rabbit hole that couldn’t be further from where Pierre was heading.

“I’m so proud of you, mon amour,” he repeated as he took my limp hand and kissed my knuckles. “I saw how hard it was for you to repeat what happened but you didn’t see the comments that were blowing up. In just a few minutes you changed a lot of people's lives.”

“What do you mean?”

He shifted around so he could pull his phone out from his back pocket and unlocked the device. As soon as I saw his finger going for the Instagram app I started to pull away with a shake of my head. I hadn’t reinstalled the app since reading the cruel comments in Barcelona and I knew I would only be more sensitive to what people had to say about me now. “I’m not ready…”

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, ever. I just want to show you that you’re not alone, that your story helped other people.” His finger hovered over the icon as he gave me a moment to absorb his words. “May I?”

I didn’t trust my voice but I trusted him and gave a small nod. 

His profile picture was ringed to show he had shared a story and he clicked on the image. Immediately I saw dozens of tiny lines across the top of all the pictures that he had shared, the first one showing on the screen. 

Each one told a story similar to mine.

Some stories came from celebrities and the times that reporters invaded their privacy or their friends and family’s privacy. They talked about the harassment that bordered on obsession until they no longer felt safe in their own homes.

But those weren’t the stories that stole the breath from my lungs and brought tears to my eyes. 

It was the one from the unassuming young woman who I could have walked past on campus and never known it. It was the one from the middle aged woman with wisps of grey streaks in her hair. It was the one from a man around Pierre’s age that had the same fluffy hair poking out from under his cap.

They all told me the same thing. They all told me that I was wrong.

I had said I didn’t want the world to know my shame. They told me I had nothing to be ashamed about. They said that what happened to me, and to them, was not a reflection on who we were and the real shame was that we were made to feel like it was our fault. 

I remembered that internalised guilt and blame. I remembered wearing long sleeve shirts in the summer heat to hide the bruises of his grip, but I had stayed out too late with my friends and I should have known better. So I slowly lost touch with those friends, isolating myself further from all the support that could have helped me. 

My vision blurred until I couldn’t see the next story and a sob broke the silent night.

Pierre tossed his phone onto the coffee table and pulled me onto his lap as my hands locked onto the thick fabric of his hoodie. The sobs wracked my body and he held on to me as tightly as I held on to him, letting the feeling of shame wash away with the tears that fell.

“Thank you, Pierre,” I whispered with my cracked and broken voice. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied weakly, the disappointment in himself palpable.

I leaned back so I could look him in the eyes as I brushed his hair back. “You stayed, when any sane person would have left.”

“Always,” he promised sincerely before his lip curved up. “Shows how crazy I am for you.”

His smile cracked into a grin when I snorted at the line and rolled my eyes. “You’re a doofus.”

“But you love me.”

“I do, Pierre, I really do.”

“I love you too.” He started to lean in for a kiss but I planted my hand on his chest to stop him. 

“Before you distract me, we need to talk about something else.”

It was his turn to look apprehensive as he leaned back. “Okay…”

“Daddy?”

His eyebrow shot up in question. “You want to call me daddy?”

“Oh god, no, maybe papi chulo,” I wheezed as I clutched my stomach and laughed. “Addie called you daddy.”

His smile returned. “I know.”

“So…you’re okay with that?” 

“I’ve always wanted kids, and I don’t care that she’s not biologically mine, I want to watch her grow up and take her to football training or ballet or whatever she wants to do. I love Addie, and when I think about the future I can’t picture it without you and her in it. So yes, of course I am okay with that, if it’s alright with you.” His eyebrows pinched together as he thought perhaps he had overstepped. “Is it alright with you?”

“Gah, now you’ve done it,” I sniffled. “Bloody happy tears.”

“Happy tears I can handle,” he chuckled as he wiped them away, his thumbs brushing over the dark bags that hung under my eyes. “Let’s get you to bed, mon amour.”

I draped my arms around his neck and curled into him. “I’m too lazy to move, I’ll just sleep right here.”

Pierre’s hands cupped my backside to support my weight as he stood up and I wrapped my legs around his waist with a yawn. I didn’t even feel him lay me in bed. My body and my soul knew it was home in Pierre’s arms and I could finally sink into sleep without my demon’s breathing down my neck. 

He had chased them all away. 

Click here for chapter twenty three.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts

[slytherhys]

Cruel Summer II

A/N: This story is taking me so long to write but mainly because I have something very specific in mind for it and I want to write it perfectly for every single one of you. I'm sorry for taking so long and I'm so grateful for everyone that keeps coming back. I appreciate it so much.

T/W: Drinking, Strong Language and Mature Content.

AO3

Prologue - I - II - III

Elain had spent many, many nights lying awake, imagining what she’d do when she finally faced Azriel again.

In some scenarios, there were tears, a dramatic encore of the night that had ended it all under the soft Christmas lights. In others, she wouldn’t even bat an eye at his presence, giving him a cursory glance as she sailed off into the sunset with a much more attractive man that made her heartbeat race and her cheeks flush (that he often ended up looking suspiciously like the same man she was avoiding went unacknowledged). 

Most times, however, it was him who didn’t see her, his hazel eyes swiping by her presence like she was nothing but a pretty view – nothing worth seeing. Elain tried not to think about how often those scenarios had invaded her sleepless nights, how they had made her time away stretch for longer than what was probably necessary.

Truth was, no matter how many scenarios Elain had examined, dreaded, wished for… none of them had prepared her for the real thing.

She had promised herself she would act with poise and grace, an unbothered smile on her face as if her insides weren’t twisting and turning inside of her. And she did manage to look gracious - for about 30 seconds. Then she stepped away in a haze to keep well and away from Azriel and bumped against one of one of Nesta’s college friends, sending her crashing into the drinks table and unceremoniously spilling what seemed to be litters of expensive, tasty champagne. 

Not her finest moment. 

Cassian had cursed loudly, helping Nesta’s friend up to her feet, while both Rhys and Feyre rushed to right the glasses that had fallen and stained Nana’s old towel. Elain had stood frozen - eyes wide and unblinking as she tried to process what a fucking idiot she was.

All eyes had turned to them at the noise but all she could focus on were the hazel ones that eyed her with humour, as if he was fighting the urge to laugh. At her. 

She wasn’t proud to admit the thought of it had nearly sent her to tears. After spending 6 months stewing, dreading, wishing… Azriel Rosehall laugh at her was the very last thing she had wanted. 

Which is why she was now standing by the corner, her back to the sea as she watched the party unfold in front of her from under the shade of the fig tree. Music still played, people still laughed and Nesta and Cassian still danced, completely lost to the world around them. 

Elain downed what was probably her 5th champagne glass - not that she deserved it, after the way she had painted Nana’s towel with it - and fought the urge to look to the back of the terrace. To where, exactly, Azriel sat next to Nesta’s friend - a pretty, young  woman who was now wearing one of Nesta’s old dresses and who smiled and laughed as if Azriel was amazing at telling jokes. 

He wasn’t.

She supposed trying to stay away had worked - at least if the way he was smiling at the pretty woman was any indication. And she had done exactly what she had intended - kept well and far away from him. It was a win-win situation, no matter how much the churning in her stomach seemed to disagree.

She just needed to stay on track for the next two weeks and she’d be fine. She could go back to her shop, to her new life, back to the comfort of her small apartment in Velaris and the same routine that had comforted her for the past few months.

It was an herculean effort not to grab her sixth glass.  

“How are you feeling?” Rhysand’s soothing voice startled her slightly, making Elain frown at the champagne that spilled all over her fingers. She set the glass down, sighing heavily as she turned to look at her friend, giving him a wobbly smile. 

Less than 24 hours in Adriata and she was already a fucking disaster.

“I’m good.” She sniffled, looking around for her sister. 

“She needed some time alone,” He explained once he noticed her wandering eyes, chuckling softly as he added, “And a change of clothes.”

Elain groaned, throwing her head back as she cursed herself for the 20th time that night. “I shouldn’t have come.” She said, not offering much else, not even when Rhys raised a brow. 

“Care to explain why you think so?”

Elain sent him an unimpressed look, making him chuckle softly. “I’ve been here for less than two hours and I already destroyed perfectly good champagne, at least 2 dresses and probably scarred that poor woman for life.” She added, eyes flickering to where she still sat next to Azriel, body curved slightly in his direction as she smiled shyly at whatever he was saying. 

God, she was going to be sick. 

Rhys followed her gaze, shrugging as he said. “She seems fine.”

“She does.” Elain all but growled, quickly becoming aware of the amused look on Rhysand's face.  “I’m sorry, it’s just-“

“You don’t need to explain anything to me.” He said, leaning back against the wall with an ease that only he managed. Elain envied him for that gentle confidence, for the way nothing seemed to phase him. “But I do think you’re not giving yourself enough credit.”

Elain frowned, her nose stinging as she blinked away the tears. A 6th glass of champagne would most likely be a bad idea. “I think you give me way too much credit.”

Rhys chuckled, flashing his pretty smile just as Feyre walked back into the terrace, his eyes following her every move. Elain wondered if he was aware that he always did that - that whenever his wife was in close proximity, his eyes would find her and latch onto her like he was just waiting for her to find him and give him her prettiest smile. Which she did. Every single time.

Rhys shook his head slightly, glancing at Elain before looking back at Feyre. “You were away for 6 months, El.” He shrugged. “I think you’re overestimating how much people care about a little mistake.”

“That little mistake nearly sent Nesta into the emergency room.” She grumbled, making Rhys chuckle. 

“I can imagine she’s under a lot of pressure.”

Elain reeled back, mock gasping as she turned to her brother-in-law. “My, are you defending my older sister?”

He shook his head, suddenly looking his age. It was easy to forget Rhysand was older than her, than all of them, but his wisdom never failed to remind her of exactly that. “I think no matter how close we all are, there are a lot of things we don’t know about each other.” His sparkling eyes found hers, and Elain raised a brow. She could feel his assessing stare, could feel the unspoken words floating between them. 

Elain narrowed her eyes. “What do you know?”

“Not enough.” He smirked. “Entirely too much.”

“I’m not going to ask you to develop that any further.”

“I think it’s for the best if you don’t.” He chuckled. “I don’t know what happened, Ellie. I’m not sure I want to know – but maybe these two weeks will be good for you.” He shrugged, smiling softly as his eyes locked onto Feyre’s. “For all of us.”

Elain followed his gaze. “Something you guys want to tell me?”

Rhys chuckled. “No.” He smiled softly at her, pulling her into a side-hug. “Something you want to tell me?”

Elain looked at where Azriel had sat with Nesta’s friend, the sight of the now empty couch sending a pang through her system that she refused to acknowledge. “No.” She mumbled.

Rhys eyed her pensively, a million unspoken words flashing behind his eyes. Elain wondered if Azriel had ever told him about anything - even in the earlier days of their… romp, Rhysand’s pretty eyes had always seemed to glimmer like they knew something. Elain bit her tongue, fighting the sudden need to ask him if Azriel had ever talked about her, if he had an inkling of what had gone through Azriel’s mind the whole time they’d been together… the past 6 months as well. 

But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t - not when she was trying so hard to move on with her life, to be as unaffected as Azriel seemed to be. To not feel like throwing up every time he smiled at a pretty girl. 

As per usual, Rhys seemed to see right through her. “Will you be okay?” He murmured gently, kind eyes taking her in. Elain gave him a wobbly smile, feeling as broken as she had felt the first night she left.

She shrugged, Rhys squeezed her against him, comforting her, just like he always did - the older brother she always wanted. And because of that, she added in a whisper, “I’m so tired of enduring things alone.” 

He gave her a kiss on the top of her head.“Then I think you know what you should do, El.”

She had no idea what she should do, but she hardly had the nerve to tell him that, so she bit her tongue as she watched him walk away.

_ _ _ 

Turns out parties were much more fun when you were actually drunk - or at least everyone else seemed to think so. Elain had admittedly isolated herself and kept away from the brunt of the party, giving strained smiles to curious strangers and short replies to noisy familiars. 

Now, as the music turned louder and the people turned braver, she wondered if anyone would notice if she simply left - she loved lemonade, but there was only so much of it one could drink before it started being too much. 

And it wasn’t like she was adding to anyone’s fun - Feyre and Rhys were slow dancing to the side - completely oblivious to the actual song playing - and Nesta and Cassian had started doing shots and dancing in ways that seemed improper when so many of your present family members were over the age of 70.

Azriel, however… Elain had no idea where he was. Had lost track of him ever since he disappeared with Nesta’s friend earlier. 

It wasn’t like she cared - because she absolutely didn’t - but it was rather rude to leave your best friend’s engagement party to go fuck someone. In her Nana’s house, too.

Elain glared at the lemonade in her hand, deciding enough was enough. There was absolutely no need to stay when all she was doing was wondering where he was and avoiding invasive questions from people she didn’t even know all that well. 

There was a perfectly comfortable bed waiting for her at the hotel downtown, and considering she was going to spend the next two weeks sleeping in a single bed with a broken mattress surrounded by the very same people she had been avoiding since the beginning of the year…Well, she was going to enjoy the fuck out of her queen-sized bed, even if it were just for one night. 

“I’ve been looking for you.” A soft voice startled her away from her escape plans, and Elain felt her stomach twist and her heart sweep in one single swift movement as she felt his familiar presence next to her. His smell enveloped her like an unwelcome breeze, making her heart trip on itself as she turned slowly and met his eyes. 

Pure whiskey, a gleam to them that only promised sin. It was dangerous to get lost in those eyes - and easy, too.

Elain was glad for the dimmed lightning in the hidden alcove, knowing fully well he wouldn’t miss a chance to tease her over the pink she felt rushing to her cheeks from his presence alone.

Still, she scoffed, trying not to laugh bitterly at his comment. “Have you?”  She had hardly moved since he had left.

He frowned, chuckling as he tilted his head. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked genuinely confused. “I have.” He straighten up and took a sip from his glass. Whiskey, from the looks of it. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

Elain sure as hell wasn’t ready for that. Whatever was about to leave his mouth was sure to ruin the following two weeks before they even began. 

I hope we can pretend we never happened. Tough but straight to the point. I’m actually fucking Nesta’s friend for the time being so maybe it’s for the best if you stay at the hotel just in case. She could live with that. Kind of. About christmas…

No. Absolutely dreadful. 

“Whatever it is, I’m sure it can wait.” She smiled tersely. “I’m exhausted and I still need to go to the hotel.”

“I’ll take you.” He shrugged, as if he truly believed it were that easy. “We can talk on the way.”

She almost cackled. Going from not seeing that man for 6 months to being closed in a car with him sounded like the closest thing to hell Elain could imagine. “I brought my car.” She said instead. 

His jaw tensed, his eyes flickering from her lemonade glass to her expression. “You’ve been drinking.”

She raised an eyebrow. “This is lemonade.” She pointed out. Sure, she had some champagne when she first arrived, but it wasn’t like he had any way of knowing that. It wasn’t as if he had been around enough time to see her drink anything at all. 

His left cheek twitched, as if he were fighting a smile. Elain hated how on edge that little movement made her feel - how naked and raw she felt just by being close to him. 

She wondered if it was still easy for him to read her - wondered if no matter how much she had fought for them to be merely strangers again, to him, Elain had remained a familiar constant, something he didn’t even think to remove from his life, no matter the distance. Not because of his feelings for her, but simply because it had always been like that. Because what to her had broken her heart and made her want to stay away from everything that reminded her of his caramel eyes and his sinful smiles, to him it had been a bump in the road, her absence not even something to be missed. Or noticed.

“You had some champagne earlier.” He said matter-of-factly. 

Elain narrowed her eyes. “Didn’t realize you were paying that much attention.” She regretted the jab the minute it left her mouth, but Azriel seemed unfazed. 

He shook his head, averting his gaze. “Hard not to.”

Right. Because she had sent his new friend flying over the table. “Is she okay?” She asked, eyeing him for a second before looking away again. 

Azriel's head turned towards her, a frown on his face. “Who is?”

“Your friend.” She said, trying to sound nonchalant. Azriel simply stared at her. “The girl?" She raised her hand towards the oak table. "The champagne?”

“I think so.” He tilted his head. “How should I know?”

“You were talking to her earlier, I just assumed-”

“What, Elain?” He interrupted with a raised brow, a dangerous smile blooming on his lips. Elain cleared her throat, quickly looking away. She had almost forgotten how easily he could play her, how easy it was for him to tease her until she either felt like punching him or kissing him.

“I just assumed you knew her, that's all." She shrugged. "It's really none of my business."

Azriel chuckled, his eyes trained on hers as he stared at her with a look akin to disbelief marring his pretty face. Elain just stared back, unimpressed by his act.

He sighed. "What can I do to make you talk to me?"

Elain laughed, shaking her head. "I think we talked enough already." She grabbed her purse from the table, stepping away. "Look, I really need to go-"

He straightened, as if ready to follow her. “What if I take your car and walk back-” He tried, but Elain stopped in her tracks, eyeing him with a frown, shaking her head.

“You can’t take my car, Azriel.” She snapped, making him stop as well. The idea alone sounded absurd. Did he truly believe they could just keep acting like nothing had happened? Like he could simply drive her car like it meant nothing?

But to her surprise, he didn't press. He simply nodded, eyes flickering all over her face, as if looking for something. 

His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat, eyes still flickering between her own. “Can I at least walk you to your car?” He asked softly, his voice so pleading that Elain nearly said yes. Nearly accepted his offer and took him by the hand, only stopping when they reached her hotel bed.

And fuck, it would be so easy to fall back into their old habits, to get lost in each other’s bodies as if nothing had happened. Wasn’t that how it had all begun? Using their bodies instead of their words, a million conversations that had needed no voice. The pure belief that what they had was enough, that they both understood each other so deeply that nothing more was necessary.

Turns out, they were speaking in completely different languages.

Elain refused to go through it all again, which was why distance was needed - she was far too weak when it came to Azriel, and she refused to let him get his way. Not when none of it meant the same to him as it did for her.

"I have nothing to say to you, Azriel." She smiled sadly. "And there's nothing you can say or do that will change that."

She saw his face fall, saw how the words landed and struck true. She had no idea what was going through his mind, but at least he had believed her enough that he didn't follow her to her car.

Maybe if she said it enough times, she would start believing it too.

[tworosesblackthorn]

strangers - matt sturniolo

strangers

matt sturniolo x reader

wc: 1.7k

in which: matt hasn’t been the best boyfriend recently

a/n: been on here for a hot minute but haven’t written anything… just admired from afar. feeling hella angsty today so i decided to write a sad fic (sorry not sorry lol) based on “quilt of steam” by del water gap. (he’s my babygirl and if you think you love him more than me, no you don’t. anyways! get your tissues.

-all i ever wanted was for you to take a second, drop it all to sit with me

another missed date. another night with a quiet phone and an empty bed. you were starting to feel like an afterthought. life gets busy, sure, but one would think that a girlfriend of two years would at least deserve a text saying the romantic night out you had planned had to be cancelled. but once again, your phone stayed silent. you only ever saw matt in fleeting moments now, when he came home between photoshoots and filming and merch drops and promotional events. and even then, he barely spoke. a small peck on the lips, a quick “love you,” and he was gone again. you can’t even remember the last time the two of us were alone together. or just together at all. you missed him. the long drives the two of you would take, the way he would rub his thumb over your knuckles when you were holding hands, the way he would hold your face when you kissed, how he brought you flowers every friday, how he told you that you were the prettiest girl in the world. you missed it all. your heart ached for just a tender moment with him, for him to let go of his responsibilities and treat you like you were important again. it was a simple wish, but it never seemed to happen.

-waiting in the car wondering if you would address it, or just leave me hurting quietly

with each ring of the phone, you begged whatever power was out there that matt would pick up the phone. with a flat tire on the side of the road and being late to work, you were at your wit’s end. your first call was to work. your second to your mother. your third to your best friend. the latter two were busy and couldn’t pick you up. which left you to your last resort: your boyfriend. you weren’t sure what was more upsetting: the flat or the fact that you didn’t want to call matt. but here you were, silently praying that the one person in the world you should be able to count on would answer. and an excruciating 30 seconds later, you heard a coarse “what?” come over the line. “matt, my car has a flat, i need you to come pick me up.” you held your breath as you heard him let out a terse exhale. “i’ve got shit to do, call your mom or something,” he says. it’s my turn to breathe out. “are you serious? i’m like 5 miles from your house, can you please just come get me, it’ll take you 10 minutes, tops.” a beat of silence. “yeah, whatever, sure.” and then the line goes dead.

you pull open the passenger door and slide in, dropping your purse by your feet and clicking your keys once more to make sure your car is locked. you’re abruptly knocked back into your seat as matt accelerates, merging back into the steady line of cars on their ways to work. “jeez, matt,” you gasp, putting a hand to heart, startled by the sudden sure of momentum. you rebound, looking over at the man you love with your entire heart. “thanks for picking me up,” you start, “i know you’re busy-“ a hand cuts you off. “-but you called anyways. ruined our entire schedule today.” the interruption takes the wind out of you faster than matt pressing the pedal down did. your bottom lip finds its way in between your teeth and your gaze turns to the window. fidgeting with your fingers in your lap does nothing to stop the tears in your eyes from threatening to fall. neither does matt’s muttered “sorry,” or the hand he tries to put on your thigh but moves away at the last second. the silence spreads like a quilt of steam over the car for what seems like the eons it takes to get back to the house you share with matt and his brothers. the turning of keys and cut of the engine draw you out of thoughts you would pay a million dollars to never have again. and there you both sit. a minute ticks by, then two. your eyes stay on your lap and his on the steering wheel, acting like the pebbled leather that covers it is the most interesting thing he’s ever seen. you think that maybe he’ll finally say something, explain what’s going on, tell you he’s sorry and that he’ll be better. instead, you get the sound of the driver door opening and closing as matt gets out. you sit in silence as you watch him walk up the driveway, feeling the last piece of your heart be stomped on with each step he took.

-i needed a change, so we wouldn’t fall out of love

the short phone call you intended to have with your mom about your car turned into a hushed conversation in the garage about how matt was acting recently. “mom, i’m so scared of losing him, i need this to get better.” you’re whispering, desperate not to be heard by any of the boys in the house. “why don’t you come home for a bit? a little distance might help you clear your head,” she starts, “plus, dad’s making his famous popcorn tonight.” you sigh, chuckle, and slowly agree. “pick me up in 30?”

the walk upstairs to your shared room with matt feels like it’s made up of eggshells. you feel the need to make yourself small, to try to take up as little space as possible. walking into the room, you’re surprised to see matt on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he glances up at you and offers a small, pursed-lip half-smile before he goes back to whatever he was doing. slowly, you make your way over to the closet to pull out a duffel bag, hesitant to leave if he’s here, in the room, with you. but the dismissive look he gave you when you had walked in sealed the deal. you were going to your parent’s house tonight. matt no longer felt like home. and so the bag was opened and placed on the chair in the corner, toiletries and clothes made their way in. “are you going somewhere?” you were surprised to hear his voice, but you steeled yourself and remembered why you were doing this. “my parents’ house…” you trailed off, but picked it back up, “i don’t know when i’ll be back.” you held your breath for what felt like the hundredth time that day, watching as he seemed to tense. “why?” he finally asked. “because, matt. i’m tired of being the last choice and being neglected by my boyfriend of two years and never seeing you. i can’t remember the last time you smiled at me.” the tears were threatening to escape, and your voice started to wobble. “you’re just going through the motions of being in a relationship, you’re not actually in it. i just need time.” you whisper the last sentence, lowering your head towards your chest to take a deep breath before raising it again. “i want you to have space to decide if you want me anymore or not.” you hover in the doorframe, watching his face and trying to decide if the furrow in his brows meant he was thinking about how serious you are, or how much he wants to come out and tell you he wants to break up. “of course i want you.” it was barely audible, rushed and out of his mouth in a singular breath. “then you need to show me, matt.” the last thing you saw before you turned and walked away was his phone fall out of his hand as his knees drew into his chest. 

-i couldn’t admit i was crushed by the weight of being strangers

two weeks later at the supermarket, there he was. you hadn’t heard from him over those two weeks, and you were equally upset and thankful. you knew that any call from him would have you running back. you wanted to be strong. but then your eyes met across the aisle and you simply couldn’t look away. you weren’t sure who moved, but suddenly you were only a foot apart and you could smell his cologne if you strained hard enough. your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, and you were sure that anyone who spared a glance in your direction would think you were insane. “i’m sorry.” matt’s eyes fell to his feet, shuffling from one to the other. “i know.” you say as you observe him. his hair is unkempt, and he hasn’t shaved in a while, something that he forgets to do when he’s stressed. his cuticles are chewed and he’s wringing his hands. “no, you don’t. i’m so fucking sorry. i messed up, and i didn’t prioritize you the way i should have. i was taking you for granted, just keeping you as a constant that i could depend on. and i shouldn’t have. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and i don’t tell you that enough-“ “or ever,” you cut him off with a half-scoff, half-giggle. “or ever,” he concedes as he meets your eyes, “and i know i don’t deserve it but i want to have you back. i love you and i miss you so much.” he pauses. “please come home to me.” you let out a long exhale, flitting your eyes around the space that surrounded you, before finally landing back on him. “we can try,” you began, and your heart missed a beat as you saw hope flood his face, “but i have some conditions.” he nodded, the lopsided smile and twinkle in his eye never leaving his stupidly gorgeous face. “can i hug you?” he asks, his arms twitching like he was fighting an invisible force to not touch you without consent. you offered him a small smile and nodded, promptly being squeezed and almost dropping your groceries. “matt!” you exclaim, stifling a laugh into his shoulder. “i love you,” he whispers into your hair, “i promise that you will never be a stranger to me.” 

a/n 2: so i couldn’t resist a happy resolution. whatever. love you guys xoxoxo

[survivalist-anon]

Log 3: A new breed of man

8:30 am, waking up from another sleepless night. I prepared my usual breakfast of coffee and eggs. After my week leave, it was about time to comeback to the office....or at least what I consider my office. I work at an wildlife rehabilitation center and reserve, since my wonderful history education career didn't pan out in the I hoped it would....I guess I had to fall back on my previous passion...nature, animals and staying as far away from people as I could be allowed to.

I was just about to enjoy the last bite of my eggs until my phone rang. I could see it was my boss, James (head researcher, local forest ranger for the county, and my ever patient boss.).

I pick it up and answer, "Hey James, I'm heading there as soon as I can ".

"Ah no worries, take your time. I just want to phone in a favor of yah, I need you to head to Mr.Bellcaller's hardware store and pick a few fencing equipment and some other gunbins. I texted you the list just in case. You're up for it?"

Since I come in at least an hour later than everyone else at the center, I'm usually the errand girl before my shift begins...it's nothing really, I actually like to help out if I can. The center's fundings have been cut by the town recently, so any amount of help...well...helps.

"You know it, I should be there in a bit. I'll see you later, sir."

Gives his usual chuckle on the other, "that's my girl. You're going to be on light duty for the week, hope you don't mind making the feed and filing paperwork."

Letting out a releaved sigh, I usually hate those duties but this week I sort of want to lay low. "Thanks James, see you later.", I hang up, pack up my work gear.

A half an hour later I'm at the hardware store. Mr and Mrs Bellcaller were one of the last members of one of the founding families here in Pine Hills. They have the town's utmost respect and most of us consider them the town's designated Grandparents. Their grandkids were around but most of their family lives in Portland.

As I'm looking at the list, it's all fencing material, repair equipment and a few tools. "oh boy...well at least it's not that much." As I get the tools, leaving the larger purchases for last, I hear the door bell ringing as another customer comes in.

"Oh good morning. Welcome back to Bellcaller's Tool Shop, how can we help you today?", Mrs.Bellcaller warmly greets them.

A low, stern and curt tone gently bellowed within earshot, "Greetings, I again require the following building necessities. If your business provides them. It would be greatly appreciated by me and my brothers.", if concrete had a voice....I just heard it.

I head up to the counter and what I find can only be described in one phrase. That is one HUGE man.

An extremely tall, double....no....tripled built man, his muscles taking a space that was only matched by his aura, whom already looked visibly constraint from the claustrophobic space he was in was being attended by Mrs.Bellcaller.

"Oh goodness, well thank you young man. I would also very much appreciate helping you.", she didn't seem mind this guy's absolutely strangeness, couldn't she see that this guy was easily 7 or 8 feet tall. He was dressed up in work casual construction clothes. This man was a monument in a hard hat.

I could barely comprehend what I was looking at... until his smell hit my nostrils. It was a harsh, musk, this guy was what a buffalo was to a regular dairy cow. That wasn't even the strangest part, his stench was doing things to me I'm too embarrassed to elaborate on....I haven't felt this crazy level of sexual high in my life. As I looked at one of the other patrons too see if I wasn't hallucinating what I was feeling, I saw one of the wives of the local farmers here picking up an order. I've never seen another woman so publicly hot and bothered, she couldn't stop looking at him. I'd be worried if I was her husband.

As for me, I was huffing, my heart pounding, I actually thought I was having a panic attack....no...this was so primal I was visibly embarrassed. I couldn't look away from him. Tall, the apex of masculinity, he literally was everything anyone would want out of a man... well physically so to speak.

But he was lazor focused. He didn't look around, he didn't even acknowledge anyone around him. His gaze was harsh, yet...it wasn't scary. It's the same look most men in the military give.

As for Mrs.Bellcaller, I could barely imagine what she's feeling.

She comes back out with a sizable box of industrial nuts and bolts, a few hammers and a farming drill used for drilling holes in much harder clay deposits.

"Oh and the concrete mix is just out in the back, Jack is loading up for you as we speak deary.", she casually notified him.

The man's expression had not changed, but his toned softened at the unexpected help, "Please pardon my ill-kept manners, madame. I shall assist your husband.", he placed a small bag in front of her. She simply takes the bag and places it under the counter for later. "Thank you, your business has been most essential to our cause."

"Oh thank you sweetheart, have a blessed day.", as she waved to him, the man released his 'parade rest' position and robotically walk out the door, carefully trying not to hit the doorway.

It felt like forever, a just a still silence, with the hefty sent of literal manhood still lingering in the store.

"God Dang it, finally that brick shit house has left the building. Smelling like a bull in its worst rut possible, do folks don't know how to shower anymore?! Come on Bridgette!", the man leaves with his wife in tow, probably feeling as emasculated as possible looking at the guy.

"~oh my lord!", it's clear she got it a lot worse since she was across the aisle from him.

I sheepishly walked to the counter, my head was starting to slowly clear. "...ugh...wow...ugh...oh..yeah..um...d-do you have this fencing stuff Mrs Bellcaller?"

How was she so damn calm? She isn't even breaking a sweat....

"Oh hellow Lorey, how are you doin love? Are you doing better? I was mortified when I heard what had happened to Micheal, my dearest condolences.", she gave me a concerned look. She was the closest thing to a real grandmother I could ever ask for.

"Oh, I'm doing better, thank you for asking...also..ugh is it hot in here or something?", I just needed to make sure I wasn't just losing composer because of my hormones.

She giggled a little, "Oh no, but don't worry sweetheart I don't blame you. That gentleman has been coming her for three years now. Handsome fella too! I just love seeing how the men here get all riled up when he and his brothers from that work come over for supplies."

"b-brothers?", I ask.

"oh yes! All just as tall as him.", as she finished her statement Mr.Bellcaller came from the back.

"ooowee. If ain't for Bill paying for all the equipment he buys we'd be out of business by now Margaret. Fine boy too. Just wondering why is he so high strung. Worse than the soldiers up at Tillamook.", he wiped his forehead of his sweat.

"Bill?", I ask again.

"Oh hey Lorey, yep. His name's Bill. Bill Dorn, must be German or something. Anyways, I see yeah need new fencing? Hmm, hopefully we'll be getting some better quality stuff soon. Folks around here have been investing more and more in home protection.", he gave a short jolly smile.

"ah, I can imagine. Again thanks for the help."

After a few minutes of loading the rest of the equipment, I waved goodbye to the Bellcaller's and headed to work. The lingering.... inappropriate thoughts...still putting in a mood I hadn't felt in months.

I arrived at work around 9 or so. With equipment in tow.

"Well well well, if it ain't 'Bear Grills' herself, how's it going!", Jonas, a coworker of mine greeted me with her usual energy. "I heard yah almost bit the dust, what happened?", it was less out of genuine concern and more out of morbid curiosity.

I let out another, exhausted sigh, "it was a big...metal man... with spikes all over his body...I shot an arrow at him...and....boom...'sloded. I have no idea what else happened or why it did.", the story had become shorter and shorter every time I tell it.

"ah what! That's so cool! Is it true that it killed yo-", James walks in hearing a potential fight happened, "That's enough Jonas! Ah there you are Lorey, thanks for stopping by Bellcaller's. Any news from town?", James was always quick to stop any infighting amongst the staff.

"yeah ugh....do any of you know a guy named Bill Dorn?", I see only one person in the office who could have any information on him.

"Oh I know Dorn and his 'brothers'", it was Jeff....

".....what the hell is he doing here?", I already was geared up by Jonas, I didn't need Jeff making it worse for me either.

James unfortunately was reluctant to answer, "Ah yes, Deputy Jeff-"

" Sheriff Deputy Jeff. I have to use the official title now. As per agency policy.", interrupting James.

".... Sheriff Deputy Jeff Colt wanted to stop by as check on you, that's all." By this point, I only knew center had my back because everyone at the wildlife center has had a run in with local PD, most of which resulted in arrests.

"Yes, and I insist on making sure you're safe. Look I understand our past hasn't been the most peachest. But, I still love you.", the sugar in that confession was enough to kill an elephant.

"anyways, I wouldn't go near that...freak. Damn near crushed my hand when we shook. Almost was tempted in slapping him with an "assault of an officer charge". That big lug just stared at me like he nothing going on inside that skull of his. I say he's no good. Probably just some city-slicker.", he crossed his arms thinking his statements had any weight.

No one in the room gave a shit about Jeff's statement, especially me. Jeffrey Colt has been part of the force for a little over a year and he's become a completely different person. He's gain a lot of weight, he's been over bearing with his duties and has already ruined his reputation as the Pine Hills Highschool football champion because of it.

"If you did, you would have cared about a little more enough not to cheat on me.", I did not care anymore on keeping that part a secret, at the same time no one truly knew the real reason why I broke up with him. We both agreed no to say what it was.

The frustration on his face was visible but even knew what I was doing. "hmf, well. I still care enough to make sure you ain't getting yourself hurt, good day. I've got more important duties to attend to." He leaves in a huff.

James, Jonas and several other volunteers look back at me worried. I look at all of their faces, I clear my throat and redo my ponytail that had gotten a little loose on the way to work.

"I'm fine.... everything is fine. He's just being an idiot.", I grab some of the center's paperwork and head to the filing office.

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

Meanwhile, 30 miles north of Pine Hills:

As the long expansive road stretches on for another few miles, the cramped conditions of the truck begin to finally bother Bill.

"hhhhhhhggggggg", he gently turns on the already broken knob of the truck radio.

"Reports of Mystery Armored Entities continue to rise as the spring season begins. Residence within the Albany county, Portland City limits and even reports as far east of the nation in Utah, Chicago, Michigan, Virginia, Georgia and Florida have be reporting these strange and potentially dang-", Bill changes the station, "You're listening to 106.8 Country F.M, where easy listening goes out West!", as a soft country song starts playing, it eases Bill's mind, helping him focus on his mission back home.

Sternly, he looks ahead of him, turns left off road, heading down a tired trail ment for military personnel long decommissioned.

After the bumpy trail ends, he arrives at a make shift metal wall, guarded by one of the metal men. Wearing striking yellow armor, with an insignia of a black fist held proudly up on his left shoulder.

"Hault, Password!", he shouted.

Bill just dryly rolled his window down and stared at the armored individual. "We need bigger vehicles."

"Password Accepted!", the armored man humored his clearly disgruntled brother, "welcome home Bilhard."

Bilhard, waved, thanking his brother. Driving another five minutes, he arrives at a construction site, one that had been painstakingly built in secret for several decades, as expansion for the sit now extends for an unknown amount of feet underground.

"hm, time to continue the Emperor's good work.", gets out of his cramped truck, stretching his arms out.

End of log 3

@kit-williams

[skywarpie]

Severing the Ties

based on this post bc i wanna make everyone sad after the exciting morning we’ve had. :)

Word Count: 891

nothing too drastic, just a lot of angst.

He’s not sure where his ghouls are. There hasn’t really been enough time in between the current events to allow him that knowledge. All he knows is that he’s gained himself an extra five minutes, something that was done through a massive amount of negotiation. Or more along the lines of Copia being a blubbering and begging mess until the unknown ghouls around him agreed.

“Five minutes.” One of them had growled out to the sobbing man at their feet. And that was all the permission he needed. 

Copia jumps to his feet and rushes down the hall as quickly as his aged body will allow him. He only stops when he is in front of the door, taking a moment to ground himself with a deep breath or two. 

The door creaks as he opens it and makes his way inside. Two small beds adorned each side of the room, one of his daughters quickly asleep in each. Copia seats himself on the edge of Athaliah’s bed, his eldest daughter. 

It takes a moment but her tiny eyes flutter open with a yawn. “Papa!” Her voice is quieted by another yawn. A tiny hand rubs at her eye as she sits up and pushes her hair from her face. Her joy suddenly seems to fall as she takes in his solemn expression. “What’s wrong?”

He swallows thickly. Copia hadn’t spent much time giving a thought to an excuse as to why he was waking her up in the middle of the night. “Papa has to go away for a little while.” It comes out sadder than he wants. The goal is to make this goodbye a good one. If you can actually even call it that. Somehow telling your kids bye with the knowledge that you’re going to be dragged to your death doesn’t sound too comforting.

“Right now?” She tilts her little head. Athaliah glances at her alarm clock off to the side. 1:30 am. “It’s still dark outside.” She says this like it’s the most logical explanation as to why he should stay. 

Copia’s upper lip twitches. “Something came up.” 

“But you said you don’t go on tour again until next month.” Her little voice has an accusing tone to it. Rightfully so.

“Yea.” He clears his throat. “Turns out someone changed the date for that.”

“And time?”

Such a smart girl, Copia thinks. “Yea, and the time.”

“That doesn’t seem fair.” Her bottom lip sticks out. 

“No, it doesn’t.” His smile is sad. “But that’s why I’m here now. That way you don’t wake up in the morning and can’t find me.”

“Oh okay.” Her smile returns. “I’ll wake up Accalia.” 

“Wait,” Copia grabs her little arm before she wakes her sister. “Let her sleep, yea?” 

“Why?” Confusion clouds her vision again. “You don’t want to tell her bye?”

He does. Copia really wants to tell her bye, but at the age of three he doubts she’ll remember him as much as Athaliah who’s six will. Or at least that’s what he tells himself and that it’s not the fact he knows she’ll cling to him until he is dragged out of the ministry. That seems more traumatizing than waking up with him gone, in Copia’s opinion. “You can tell her for me, si? You don’t want her to be cranky when she wakes up in the morning now do you?” He grins. “And we don’t want that, do we?”

“No!” Her response is quick and it drags a laugh from Copia’s throat. “You’ll bring something back for us?” By now she’s clinging to his arm, looking up into his face. 

“Don’t you have enough toys?”  

Her brows furrow. “But you always bring back the best ones.”

“Someone sounds a little spoiled.” Copia adds as he tickles her. He quickly shushes her when her squealing laughter starts to get a little too loud. He looks at her and then points to her sister, placing a finger over his mouth to signal her to be quiet.

Her giggles start to quieten down when he tucks her back into bed, blankets snug around her. Copia tries to pull away but Athaliah winds her tiny arms around his neck. “You don’t have to bring me anything back, Papa. I know you get busy.” When she pulls back Copia feels like he’s going to be sick. Her expression is so genuine and understanding. He unwinds her arms a little quicker than he’d typically do, but her expression doesn’t change, even as he places a kiss on her head.

He’s cutting it short, exceptionally short if he’s being honest with himself. The last thing he wants is her to see him flocked by a pack of unknown ghouls. Copia has his hand on the doorknob when he hears her again.

“You’ll call every night?” 

He chews his bottom lip, looking back at her. “Si. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

There’s a faint smile on her face as she yawns, getting comfortable again. “I love you Papa.”

“I love you too, topolina.” He’s glad the light from the hall obscures his features because he knows he looks terrible. “Whenever you miss me just remember that I’m with you always.” The last part he whispers as he closes the door, separating him from the two most important things in his life.

[hoppingonslimjim]

smoking kills (j. hopper | st)

premise: in which you hate jim’s smoking habit, but jim doesn't really care.

or, you successfully use your puppy-dog eyes on the notorious hardass jim hopper because he's whipped for you

paring: jim hopper x y/n

word count: 2.3k

warnings: none, sfw

etc.: daddy jim hop, that is all

read it on ao3: link

*************

you lay sprawled across the worn-down couch, swaying your feet lazy to the beat that was playing out of the record player. your lips hummed along to the melody as you watched for the door to swing open and for him to come into the door. 

any minute now, you sighed, continuing to let the melody control your body. 

in all honesty, there wasn't much to do at jim’s house, and you wondered why you opted to spend so much of your time here just waiting for the police chief to come home from his long shifts of protecting and serving hawkins, indiana. you had a perfectly good home with a TV box in the living room and a border collie that absolutely adored you. though, obviously, this question was rhetorical. you were head over heels for the town’s police chief and your boyfriend, jim hopper. you loved even just being in his house, even if he wasn't there, as everything reminded you of him. the whole house was an embodiment of his musky scent, you could wrap yourself in his oversized clothes, and no one would know or judge, and you could indulge in his personal belongings that he would be too embarrassed or refused to show you (like his vintage porno stash or more innocently, the photo’s of his late daughter of who you wished you had the chance to meet).

just as you threw your head back to let escape a bored sigh, you heard the familiar sound of a car rattling up the driveway. your eyes quickly flicked over to the clock next to the fridge, which confirmed your suspicion; it was 6:30. jim was right on time. today was not going to be another one of those days where you wasted away for hours as the police chief had to stay later to do paperwork or entertain the town’s parents’ hysterias. 

you switched off the record player and hurried to your feet to greet him right at the door. if you were a dog, your tail would be wagging at concerning speeds right now. in a way, you did feel like a dog, more like an anxious puppy glad to see its owner return home. it was kinda pathetic, but in a cute way, or at least to jim, it was.

the door swung open, and the much larger man immediately scooped you into his arms and held you tight against his body. as you buried your face into his chest, you couldn't help but let your whole body go limb in the safety of his embrace.

“waiting for me at the door?” jim chuckled, “you missed your old man that much today, huh?” he teased, setting you down and taking off his coat.

“yea,” you admitted shyly, your eyes taking in the man that you called yours in front of you. at the very least, he had a foot on you and a hundred pounds. he made you feel small in the best way, in a safe way. his upper lip was home to a dark bushy mustache that you had just gotten used to, mourning the days of his full beard you had the privilege of racking your hands through. and just below his chin was a thich mate of hair peeking through his brown buttoned uniform. when you are tired, you found comfort in snuggling on jim’s chest hair and breathing in his scent.

your daydream of jim hopper was cut short just as it had started by the distinctive flick of the mental lighter and the sound of him rummaging in his coat pocket for his pack of cigarettes. he fished out one cigarette from the pack, hurriedly jammed it between his lips, and brought the flame to the tip of the cigarette to light it. as jim took his first drag, he nodded his head approvingly at the cigarette as to say, i needed this.

you backed away a few steps from him and his cigarette, crossed your arms, and waited for the man to put his eyes back on you instead of his dirty little habit. 

“oh please, not today,” the older man moaned, cigarette still pressed against his lips. “i don’t want to, or need to, hear your lectures today, kid.”

“james-” you started

“oh, here we go; we’re already starting with my government name”

“jim!” you huffed, instinctively stomping your foot on the ground like a toddler at the beginning stages of a tantrum. “can you please not interrupt me before i’ve even started?”

“mhm,” the man flippantly replied, crossing the room to dig in the fridge to find a beer to wash down his cigarette with

“we’ve talked so much about this. it really makes me upset, and you know that. i care about you so much, and it sucks to see you throwing your health down the drain like that,” you gestured exhaustly to the cigarette as smoke trailed out of it as it lay perched between jim’s fingers. 

“i don’t know what you want me to tell you, kid,” jim sighed, taking another drag and washing it down with a swig of beer. “do you really want to have this conversation for the five-hundredth time?”

you chose not to answer, and instead, you held his gaze, crossed our arms even tighter, and pursed your lips together firmly. the two of you started at each other, neither breaking the newly sanctioned stare-down contest. you were trying to shoot lasers into the man’s eyes, though he wasn’t backing down. maybe it was the military or the years in the police force that did it, but one thing jim hopper was good at was not backing down without a fight.

the two of you held each other’s gaze, with only the tap of one of your feet on the ground or the swishing sounds of the beer in jim’s glass bottle as he absentmindedly played with it. your jaw clenched, and you could feel your heart beating faster and faster. jim, though seemed relaxed, in his element, ready to take on your bratty behavior, or how you saw it, merely stating your opinion, any day. 

your eyes squinted, his squinted. when your nose crinkled up, his nose crinkled up. you even felt like your blinks were synced as you never saw his eyes close for a second, and instead, you both held steadfast in the quasi-power struggle. 

the reality of the situation came pouring down on you, and your gaze faltered from the older man’s. you were ultimately the one to lose the battle, as you tore your eyes away and threw your head up in the air with a defeated sigh. hot tears started to bubble in the corner of your eyes inadvertently, and you quickly used the edge of your sweatshirt sleeve to wipe them away before jim could notice.

though, of course, he noticed, being the dad he is. jim got out of the chair while rubbing the cigarette out on the ashtray on the kitchen table. 

“no,” you whimpered, stepping farther back before the man could console your tears that started to fall. you sighed, roughly scrapping your eyes again and taking a deep breath through your nose and out through your mouth.

you felt pathetic because you were crying, but mainly because of how stupid the reason was. it wasn't a silly reason to you, but certainly to everyone else, including jim. smoking was as accepted as breathing. everyone partook in it and everywhere and didn't even bat an eye at the act indoors, outdoors, etc. as soon as you were old enough, you smoked, or were the small minority of people, like you, who believed that smoking was bad. there wasn't a whole bunch of science to prove your point, but there was enough to conclude that it was at least not a net-neutral action that everyone claimed it to be. the nauseating, nose-curling smell was enough for you to know that something was not good with the cigarettes that so many people found themselves defending

at the end of the day, you cared for jim. you wanted to see him healthy and happy, so his almost pack-a-day addiction started to become more and more apparent and thus concerning the more time you spent with him. maybe one cigarette when needed wouldn't be too bad, as you were fully aware of the stress the man had to endure due to the responsibilities and nature of his job. however, a pack-a-day was downright inexcusable and borderline hazardous. he was already not the fittest man, admittedly (even though you loved his beer gut and large thighs). the cigarettes were not helping anything, but certainly harming 

you had reasoned with the man so many times with the information mentioned above, a few instances of tears, and a lot of heated ‘debates’ (more aptly characterized as yelling-matched), and you were starting to feel utterly defeated. you just wanted what was best for the man. why didn't he get that? 

“listen, kid,” he sighed, tightly wrapping his arm around your frame and resting his chin on the top of your head. he brushed his thumb over your shoulder and just stood there with you, ever so slightly rocking you as you buried your head into his chest in your last ditch ever to hide your tears. jim, of course, could sense how upset you were, though, and just stood with you silently, swaying back and forth in the kitchen. 

in the comfort of his embrace, you quietly let all your tears out, with only a tiny hiccup now and then that gave away your cover.

“i hate how upset this makes you, sweetheart.”

“i hate how upset i feel,” you squeaked.

“you know i can’t just quit cold turkey.”

“i’m not asking you to!” you yelled-whined before quickly cooling your frustration that had abruptly boiled over and burrowing into the man’s chest once again. “all i want is for you not to have one of those stupid things in your mouth every five seconds. i wish you knew how much i love you and how much i want you not to die an early death or something,” you sighed

“you're not getting rid of me that easily,” jim laughed, his thumb soothingly sliding back and forth over your shoulder blades. “i plan to stick around for at least a year, kid.”

you couldn't help but chuckle a little bit at his humor. peering up from his grasp, you wiped your whole face, which was now wet, red, and definitely a little red now. you sniffled a few and steadied yourself to hone in on the more rational part of yourself to have, or at least try, to have a proper adult conversation with jim

“i want you to promise that you’ll try to smoke less. like try only to do a half a pack or something like that, anything like that, please.”

“you know i don’t like false promises, y/n.”

“it doesn't have to be a false one if you actually follow through,” you said pointedly. 

jim sighed and took you by the shoulders to peer down into your eyes. “you know how long i’ve been smoking, kid?”

“forever,” you quipped back, mocking his tone of voice a little bit. 

“mhm, exactly,” jim responded somewhat sternly, “so i can’t just quit cold turkey or even stop that much, realistically.”

you couldn’t help but grimace at jim’s words. you felt like the conversation was going in circles and circles. like every other time you two had this conversation, it would inevitably end with you two getting all worked up, not talking to each other all night, jim sleeping on the couch, and then you two making it up in the morning. and all of that just for it to happen again, like right now

“but what i can do,” he interjected, noting your defeat, “is to try my best. and that’s all that matters, right, kid?”

you felt your body relax into his hands as he finally cracked. 

“i will try for you, and only you, kid, because i love you, even though it seems like i don’t,” the man chuckled sarcastically, rustling your hair with his fingers and bringing you in once again to his chest.

you happily squealed a little bit, this time accepting the embrace by hopper and smiling into his chest. it felt good for jim actually to listen to cries of concern and take you seriously, even though you were much younger and jim loved to remind you that you had barely lived life (and thus not learned a lot of those good-ol ‘life lessons’)

“you better be so glad i love you, kid,” he huffed jokingly, “i wouldn’t agree to your shit if i didn’t.” 

“i love you too, hop, and thank you.”

“i hope you know i’m thinking of starting with a one-cig-a-day reduction, nothing crazy, of course. i don’t want to risk falling over and dying, y’know”

you chuckled and rolled your eyes at his dramatics but knew he was being serious. but even one less cigarette a day was a win in your book, and it was comforting for jim to stop being stubborn and thinking he always knows what's best and actually listens to your gripes. 

“i love you, kiddo.”

“mhm, love you too,” you mumbled, face pressed tightly into the hair on his chest.

“thank you for looking out for your old man, i mean it, y/n,” he sighed, brushing your hair away from your forehead and planting a kiss on your temple.

“you stubborn little thing, you got me good,” jim laughed into your head as he played with the hair on top of your head.

“yea, get used to it,” you retorted.

jim laughed and tickled the sensitive skin between your arm and shoulder blades as retaliation, knowing you are the most ticklish person to exist. you giggled uncontrollably and wiggled out of his grasp to sprint down the hallway to escape the impending onslaught by jim

[0daytrick0]

Week 8...?

It's been a wild ride, but I'm nearly there. I am currently drowning in all of the work I have to complete, but the finish line is in sight.

I currently have 5 assessments that I need to start along with one exam to study for - well at least watch the lectures and stay on top of it before the exam.

Full time uni, let me tell you, even with having a flexible job, to maintain consistency and manage your time... It's a hurdle.

I just keep telling myself that it's my first official term at uni and I'm going to struggle with this one. Especially when I'm still finding my feet to figure out what works.

At the moment all I want to do is play fallout 4. It's my third playthrough and I got back into it after watching the show and now studying and working is a whole new level of hard.

But I will get there. I know I will. I just have to keep my head down now and concentrate. There are a whole lot of assessment to create and submit, but having these massive lectures to attend ONLINE, man, it makes it way harder than it needs to be. I cannot sit still for more than 30 minutes. 40 minutes on my good day. To have a 4 hour lecture with no breaks, man... It's just setting me up to fail. Especially when I'm in my own house. Do you realise how many distractions there are here? "There is a mark on my desk, let me clean it. I'll go grab a drink of water, oh wait the dishes need doing. I'll just sit down and make a to do list. Oh wait, not until I vaccume my carpet so I can focus."

I have always struggled with procrastination all through school, but this takes the cake. Even things I enjoy doing such as gaming I can't sit still for. It's crazy man. It took so long for me to be able to sit where I am now. To be able to attend University without worldly stress hurdles. I couldn't even attend my bachelor of psychological science after I graduated as I didn't have enough points. So I had to do an online pathways program for three months. I decided to apply for uni and went the year after that only to nearly end up homeless. So then I came back home, got my own place with my partner, and proceed to apply again but online and I am finally here. Ive made it past census date. And I am here for good now.

It took so long to get here. I was so excited about it too. Couldn't wait for a challenge and commit to a grind. But now that it's here... I'm exhausted. I want to quit. I'm starting to not care. I have little focus. It is fascinating at how the human mind works... Whatever the case may be, I am stuck here and commited either way. So I might as well make the most of it and push myself as far as I can (which is not far at the moment).

In between all of this I am trying my best to have money to pay for bills so it's not all reliant on my partner on top of saving money for my tattoo which has been 4 damn years in the making.

I need AT LEAST 5k to be able to drive there, afford the tattoo, and have money for food and accommodation. It's possible. It most definitely is, even with my studies. But it's the saving part that's the hardest. My god is it hard. When I finally can afford things, I just spend all my money on things I like. Don't get me wrong, it's things I use and have wanted for a while. But damn man, I really have to set my priorities. But a budget book and be strict with myself. Honestly, I need to be strict with myself with everything. Studying, saving, eating, going to the gym. I just really need to change my whole mindset and push myself. It's not about motivation, it's about consistency and building habits.

In other news, I finally bought my dream iPad pro along with the apple pencil. I couldn't afford it outright, and I couldn't justify saving for an iPad when I also want a tattoo. So I ended up using a credit card. Which is dangerous and I always swore to myself I would never do. But! I am only using it to pay off the iPad and will delete it once it's paid off. I have also locked the card and will hide the card away from myself. I will not build debt on appliances.

Right now I am planning out my whole week, dedicating time to the priorities, and making time to work as well as work out. It's going to be a massive week, but if I can just start all of these assessments, it won't be so bad.

[todaytrendintheworld]

5 takeaways from Knicks' season-extending Game 5 victory over Heat

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NEW YORK — When you’re facing elimination, there can be no holding back. With the New York Knicks’ season on the line, their two starting guards played all 48 minutes of Game 5 of their Eastern Conference semifinal series against the Miami Heat on Wednesday night. And despite the lack of rest, they each came up big in the fourth quarter.

Jalen Brunson scored 10 of his team’s 28 points in the final period, while Quentin Grimes came up with the biggest defensive play of the night. The Heat had cut a 19-point Knicks lead down to two, but New York would not let their season die, and they sent the series back to Miami with a a 112-103 victory.

Here are some notes, numbers and film from a game that had New York fans chanting “Knicks in 7!” as they exited Madison Square Garden …

1. The full 48

The New York bench, which was terrific in the regular season, has not been good in this series. It’s also been shorthanded, with Kia Sixth Man of the Year runner-up Immanuel Quickley missing the last two games. Through Game 4, the Knicks had been outscored by 21 points (29.1 per 100 possessions) in 30 minutes with Brunson off the floor.

Coach Tom Thibodeau’s solution for that problem was to never take Brunson off the floor. The Knicks’ star played all 48 minutes on Wednesday, rewarding his coach with a game-high 38 points, nine rebounds and seven assists. And he still had gas in the tank in the fourth quarter, hitting two of the biggest shots of the night, a pick-and-roll pull-up 3-pointer to put the Knicks up seven with 7:30 left and an isolation pull-up jumper that put them up six with 4:10 remaining.

“If he needed a blow he would have told me,” Thibodeau said. “This time of year you’re going to see guys get big minutes.”

Thibodeau is a defense-first coach and Brunson can be a defensive liability, but the former was about as effusive as a coach can be about his star player in the aftermath of an exhausting and exhaustive performance.

“The thing I love about him is you prepare yourself for that,” Thibodeau said. “I’ve never seen anyone work the way he does. And he does it in front of everyone. He does it in our gym, does it all summer long. He does it at a game speed. He never has to adjust in a game because of the way he prepares himself. He conditions himself to play big minutes. Just a tremendous leader.”

There was more …

“What can you say about the guy? He’s just incredible, all-around player. Great leader, great toughness. Mental toughness, physical toughness, ability to think on his feet, ability to lead, ability to connect with people, bring the best out of people. That’s what makes him special. And it’s play after play.”

The Knicks’ lead was again six points with a little less than two minutes left. That’s when Grimes, the other guy who played all 48 minutes, made the biggest defensive play of the game.

After banging knees with Bam Adebayo on a screen, he limped back into the play …

Then he stayed in front of Butler and took the ball away …

The Knicks couldn’t capitalize on the other end, but the Heat couldn’t make the shots they needed after that.

2. Second-quarter success

In each of the first four games of this series, the Heat won the second quarter by at least five points. And if that success were to continue, the Knicks would have been in a big hole at halftime, because they were down 10 after the first 12 minutes, having scored just 14 points on 22 first-quarter possessions.

But the Knicks proceeded to score 18 points on their first seven possessions of the second, turning that 10-point deficit into a six-point lead. And one key to their success was putting Duncan Robinson into a couple of pick-and-rolls early in the period. On New York’s first possession of the second, Obi Toppin (guarded by Robinson) handed the ball to Brunson, who dribbled at Robinson and drew Kyle Lowry off the strong side corner, leaving Grimes open.

Two possessions later, Grimes (being guarded by Robinson) set a ball-screen for Brunson. Robinson hedged out, but Caleb Martin (Brunson’s defender) stayed with his man, not leaving Robinson alone with the Knicks’ most dangerous offensive player. With two on the ball, Brunson got off it. The Heat rotated, but RJ Barrett got another open corner 3 on the opposite side of the floor before Robinson could get there …

The Knicks finished with 36 points on 24 second-quarter possessions, tied (with the third quarter of Game 4) for their most efficient quarter of the playoffs. And then they scored 23 points on their first 11 possessions of the third to build their 19-point lead.

3. Target No. 2

Robinson wasn’t the Knicks’ only target in Game 5. In fact, Brunson was happy to just attack his initial defender if Robinson was able to defend the pick-and-roll somewhat successfully. That initial defender was often Gabe Vincent, who Brunson attacked pretty relentlessly. The isolation bucket with 4:08 left was against Vincent, who had a hard time staying in front of Brunson without fouling him.

Kyle Lowry did a better job. But with a little more than six minutes to go in the fourth, Lowry picked up his fifth foul, which was painful in more ways than one. First, it came with 2.6 seconds on the shot clock and the Knicks’ possession stalled on the perimeter. Second, it brought Vincent back in the game, and the Knicks went at him right away, getting another huge bucket to keep the Heat at bay.

Vincent was guarding Barrett and had actually navigated a couple of Mitchell Robinson screens. But Jimmy Butler felt the need to help, there was no help behind him, and Robinson got a dunk …

A couple of minutes later, Adebayo put Brunson on the free throw line when he doubled an iso vs. Vincent. Two possessions after that, Barrett attacked Vincent with a drive, Butler came with help again, and Isaiah Hartenstein got a tip dunk.

These liabilities have been there all series, but the Knicks were a little more deliberate in attacking them on Wednesday. Plus, the Heat didn’t always help the helper.

“It’s not a shocker what they’re going to try to do,” Heat coach Erik Spoelstra said, adding that his team just has to figure out “how to get the job done defensively. I think that’s one of our greatest characteristics. Yeah, there’s schematics. We’ll work on Xs and Os. We’ll have some kind of strategy. But at the end of the day, we have incredible competitors in the locker room. You just figure out how to get the job done.”

4. Free throw discrepancy

Neither team had shot particularly well through the first four games of this series, but the other three factors of efficiency — turnovers, free throws and rebounding — were in the Heat’s favor. Then the Knicks committed 19 turnovers (the most for either team in any game) in Game 5. And though New York had more offensive rebounds, second chance points (21-12) were also again in Miami’s favor.

But free throws were a huge advantage for the Knicks, who attempted 40, their highest total in any game this season (92 total games) and more than twice as many as the Heat (19). Seven different Heat players committed at least three fouls, and Vincent wasn’t the only guy who couldn’t defend Brunson without fouling. The Knicks’ point guard drew fouls 10 total.

Some of the other fouls were intentional. Mitchell Robinson bricked some of the worst free throw misses we’ve seen all season, both in Game 4 on Monday and again in Game 5. And with the Heat trying to get over the hump in the fourth quarter, they went to a “hack-a-Mitch” strategy, intentionally sending him to the line with a foul away from the ball before the Knicks could get into their offense.

But the big man managed to make three of his four attempts on the intentional fouls in that fourth quarter, and Thibodeau then replaced him with Hartenstein, perhaps not wanting to push his luck.

5. Open opportunities

The score from beyond the arc was even (39-39), though the two teams didn’t shoot equally well. The Knicks were surely happy to go 13-for-34 (38%), after shooting less than 33% from deep in eight of their nine eight playoff games. The Heat, meanwhile, continue to struggle from long distance. They shot 45% from 3-point range in their first-round series vs. the Milwaukee Bucks but are just 31% from beyond the arc in this series after going 13-for-43 (30%) in Game 5.

And a lot of those 30 misses were wide open.

As the Knicks built that 19-point lead early in the third quarter, Kevin Love (0-for-7 from deep), missed two great looks, one near the top of the floor after setting a back-screen and another from the left corner after the Knicks’ defense got scrambled.

Robinson was 5-for-10 from beyond the arc, a big reason why the Heat were willing to live with him being targeted on defense. But he missed two huge shots that could have made it a one-point game at a couple of different points in the fourth. The first was a wide-open look in transition that rattled in and out. The second was a side-step 3 after Butler drew two to the ball.

“I really felt that we needed to get it to at least a tie, or one point, or take the lead,” Spoelstra said. “And I think that could have changed things. But you have to give them credit. They made plays when they needed to.

“There were a bunch of wide-open ones. But I think the tenor of the game was probably more in their favor.”

The Heat can still close this out in Game 6 at home on Friday (7:30 p.m. ET, ESPN), and the Knicks still need two more wins. But a comeback from 3-1 has been done before and the Knicks know the history.

“This is something that can be done,” Barrett told MSG Network. “It’s been done before 13 times.”

Jimmy Butler takes what the defense offers but can't lift the Heat to victory in Game 5.