#I would have posted this earlier but I was sick and slept the whole day 💔

[voiceofthebroken]

be careful of what you wish for

chaos ensues

I refuse to accept this

at least one of them has to win come on

this was really my excuse to draw a bunch of cheateds together because I really like everyone's designs of the voices and wanted to give a gift of sorts to the community :3 I drew as many as I could fit on the page (and had the motivation for), which kind of are the recent designs I saw and the ones I already had saved on my phone (I was offline when I started this...)

but everyone's designs are really good, I wish I could draw them all!! (hopefully I did these guys justice though)

design owners (apologies for the notification):

left side (front to back) - mine, @remaking-machine, @tai-janai, @artificial-radiance, @inkedout, @keiti-t, @clodsire-the-random-creature, @itsonlypolite, @forgottensoulsart, @wysteriaisapenguin

right side (front to back) - @salty-an-disco, @lilywily143, @neverpathia, @luna-tori, @graynide, @acethekenku

[heartthrobin]

blue light (2)

miguel o’ hara x villain!reader

wc: 4.9k

warnings: fem!reader, reader can manipulate electricity, can teleport via lightning, age-gap (reader is early 20's), miguel is (slightly less) emotionally constipated, angst, swearing, jealous miguel, stalkerish behaviour, reader is a bit of a meanie (she's a villain after all), drinking, classic college kid shenanigans, implied one night stand, reader is highkey stubborn (she’s been hurt let’s not judge), happy ending this time i promise

an: next part to yellow light! i hate leaving stories with an unhappy ending so i had to work this out :) also the taglist was formed from this post before anyone asks again. remember to repost to support your fav writers !!

summary: someone's following you. you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

part one

jumping between dimensions is exhausting work.

fuck what any spider-person had to say, they have fancy little watches that let them drift between earths as they pleased. they should try falling through a super collider every once in a while, not to even mention the glitching. like every molecule in your body is being ripped apart and reattached with wet wood glue.

and all that pain for a man. the notion makes you sick.

fuck Miguel too. fuck him especially.

you'd blasted him through the concrete face of a building in spite. the thought made you chuckle. he deserved it, that bastard.

when you returned from earth-8901, you slept over most of the next few days.

only closer to the end of the week had you dragged yourself from the depths of your bed to class. assignments glared at you from under the hood of your shut laptop and the professor's voice drifted over your head where it was hunched down over the scribbled outline of a scheme to cut power across the city.

you sketch a tiny little you in the corner, if you were a better illustrator someone may have been able to make out the tiny figure laughing maniacally at the panic she's induced.

scheming is fun. it lets you forget for the red and blue shadow that haunts your mind, if only for a few minutes at a time.

there's a coffee shop on the route back to your apartment and inter-dimensional travel has you jet-lagged enough to push it's doors open. a chime fills the space.

you stop most days just for a coffee, if you've made a recent hit at a bank on the other side of town you'll spoil yourself to a sandwich or a smoothie. but as it turns out, the money on earth-8901 is all purple bills. useless memorabilia hogging space on your study desk.

behind the counter is a fresh face. a handsome face.

he smiles at you and it's dazzling enough to prompt you into returning it. there's a name-tag against his black work shirt, Tobey, and he has dreads pulled up into a bunch at the top of his head.

you lean over the counter more than you would normally and his eyes follow your figure where it's divided by the countertop.

"hm. first week?" you prompt.

"indeed."

"how's it going?"

his eyes wash down your body again before returning to your gaze. "well. very well."

when you leave the shop there's a number written on the side of your cup with smudged black marker and a "give me a call -Tobey :)"

the ink stains the pads of your fingers. you consider the number the whole walk home.

by the time you reach your door, you've decided that you'll be calling him. that it's a good idea to start engaging with men in your dimension, as opposed to six foot nine assholes with sturdy shoulders ... and swirling brown eyes ... and a soft temperament despite how desperately he tries to hide it--

you slam your door, leaving that thread of thought on your welcome mat.

-

New York has already dimmed to a fuzzy black, perforated by city lights of every colour when you perch yourself on the edge of your bed. the city hums and the tune drifts in through your open window.

your cup from earlier is empty where you hold it up and dial the number written against it.

it rings twice before a static voice carries over the line. "hello?"

"Tobey?"

"speaking."

you tuck your knee up against the bed. in the low light, your glow emanates into the space. "i just called to say that i think you accidentally wrote your number on the side of my cup."

he chuckles. it's hard to make out, but then again most calls are tough when you're holding the phone with the same touch that could cut power to the pentagon.

"not a mistake, sweet-cheeks."

your nose crinkles. you hope the nickname isn't gonna stick.

but you press on, "that so? well, pray tell. why am i phoning you?"

"you're phoning so we can talk about when i'm taking you out."

"usually that discussion is preceded by actually asking me if i want to go out with you."

"i'm sure that--"

there's a crunch beyond the window.

the unmistakable crumble of concrete, accompanying dust cascading to settle on your sill in a tiny pile.

you squint, your apartment is on the eleventh floor. there's no way anyone could--

the phone falls, clattering to land across the dial.

spider-man.

your palms warm, you feel the surge of power rising where it's settled most days just beneath your skin. fingertips prickling with electricity, desperate to come reaching out - the bedside lamp dims as you brighten. your light casts shadows across the room.

"uhm, hello?" the abandoned phone still hums.

you creep towards the ledge before leaping at it, knees connecting with the sill. your eyes chase around the view beyond the window.

the night is still. there's no sign of movement beyond the people down in the street.

just above your window, the source of the noise, there's a gash in the brick. four gashes, to be exact. like an animal had ripped into the stone, like ... like claws.

your heart sinks into your stomach. the night is still unmoving.

-

it's thursday afternoon and the sidewalk is busy. you think that if one more person knocks into your side you're gonna zap them across the street.

Tobey hasn't showed up yet.

"how's thursday? some lunch, twelve o' clock?"

it's already half-past. you think hard about zapping him too, the face he'll make when he's swallowing scalding hot mouthfuls of electricity.

as if drawn from your thoughts, Tobey's figure is bumping people down the walkway. he's jogging, panting between an apology as he nears.

"i-i'm so sorry," he's hunched over, hands on knees. "my car was totalled ... i had to call the cops and sort out a bunch of stuff--"

"you got into an accident?" your voice is more curious than concerned.

he shakes his head. "no, an animal. last night an animal or something attacked my car, it's completely wrecked."

you squint at him. "an animal? we live in Manhattan."

Tobey straightened out. "yeah, go figure. giant claw marks and everything, the car was on it's head when i found--"

"claw marks?" your interest peaked.

the sound at your window.

"yeah. the thing must have been huge, it flipped my car." he nods. "and the security cameras were malfunctioning over the time that it happened so i can't know for sure ..."

there's only one creature you know personally, the kind that lurks on New York rooftops, that can inflict that kind of damage.

you don't allow yourself to think any more on it. Miguel hasn't come to your dimension before, he's not starting now.

and here to do what? wreck Tobey from the coffee shop's car?

the thought settles the bubbling in your core.

"well. are we still getting lunch?"

-

nearly a week passes and the thought of Miguel haunts you no more than it usually does - which is generally in the space between each thought - but you've squashed the notion that he may be around.

"it's not good to jump too often between dimensions."

he'd said that once.

you bury yourself under the safe cover of assignments and tests. early classes and afternoons at library desks.

of course, there's always time for hobbies. cultivating a healthy school-social balance is reliant on a well-rounded lifestyle.

there's two security passed out in the corner. you would duct-tape them but you struck them with enough power to light a carnival for a week. they'd be out for a while.

you'd think the university student finance office would be unoccupied at almost nine at night. but seven or eight people huddle in the corner of the room, stragglers that had remained to do work after hours.

they press against each other in fear. you delight in it.

"it's not your guys' fault," you speak to the room. the lights flicker overhead. "i get it, it's the big corporations! but, that still affects the lives of students who can barely afford to pay for registration anymore--"

the computer system fizzles and sparks beneath your hand. monitors go black across the office, the remains of student financial documents dissolved into digital dust.

you'd deny the notion that you were doing all this for the "greater good". your own student fees were climbing, and just while you were here, there were a couple friends who could do without it too.

blue and red lights bounce off the side of your profile. sirens echo down the street.

"right." you dust your hands and look around. you're chuffed when you curtsy at them, ends of your short dress pinched between your fingertips. "that should be me done then. you all have a good night."

the buildings doors slide open where you push them. you're almost blinded by the cop car headlights.

they’d formed a lineup behind open car doors, guns aimed up at you.

“Statica!” a gruff voice called from the depths of the lights. “get on the ground and put your hands behind your head! you’re surrounded!”

you roll your shoulders, pretending to consider their offer. eventually you shook your head, “i don’t think so, sheriff. i’ve got class tomorrow, can’t be out too late.”

a crack of lightning rains from the sky and a nearby police car explodes, lifting a few feet off the ground and bursting into flames.

“well, i’ll be off.”

your hand raises to call down another bolt, one that would send you back to the sidewalk outside your apartment, when the officer calls again.

“drop your weapon!”

“my weapon?” you chuckle lowly, “you mean my hand—“

you’re cut short by a bang and a flash at the end of a standard police pistol.

several things happen at once:

a force hits you with enough power to force all your breath clean out your lungs. your body is thrown back against the sidewalk and your midriff grows warm. your hand finds your stomach, it's sticky there.

on the wall behind where you once stood, there's a gaping hole where the bullet that was supposed to be yours has dug a wide welt into the grey plaster.

"you missed!" a voice call somewhere beyond the flashing lights.

another shoot rings out, but you're gone in a shower of sparks before the bullet has chance to even graze your cheek.

you're back on the street outside your apartment building. the streetlamp buzzes above you.

your lungs are burning, grappling desperately for oxygen. your eyes find your stomach again:

where there should be blood and a bullet sized hole, instead is a tangled mess of white web. it's solidifying slowly over your yellow get-up.

"it ... there's no ways." you whisper, the only person out in the late night street.

your spider-man isn't going around pushing you out the way of police fire. he's probably off kissing babies and saving cats from trees.

no. this was someone else, and there's only one person-- but why would he be here?

your eyes find the line of rooftops as if Miguel's figure would crescent over your street. it doesn't. somewhere beyond them, a cop car whoops.

webbing is drying over your hand.

"fucking asshole."

-

you're being watched, all through the next day. all the way to friday, you can feel it. like tiny spiders crawling over your shoulder when you sit too still.

the heat of red eyes, they're never there when you look for them.

in the walks between classes, the breaks between sprawled over campus benches in the summer sun flittering out conversation riddled with classic complaints. i can't believe that fucking test, that twenty mark question at the end? is she crazy?

you've considered calling out. maybe he'd appear from the shadows, but you'd squashed the notion quickly. he didn't deserve your acknowledgement.

he's probably right chuffed with himself, saving you when you didn't need his interference. no. if he wants to lurk like a creep, let him!

but the thought weighed on you. your heart whined in the quiet dark of your room late at night. the empty space beside you, the prodding of a dream you'd long since killed: rising a grey soil-ridden hand out from the depths of it's grave.

it was never gonna work anyway. it was the thought that sent you into sleep.

friday night arrived like a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day.

you thrust your hips into your tiniest skirt and your chest through your prettiest top. your friends met you out on the sidewalk, already three drinks deep when you all spill into the muggy heat of the bar.

two vodka cranberries and three tequila shots under, the thought of Miguel dissipates. it's further incinerated by the warmth of the hand on your hip.

the man is tall - sure, not as tall as Miguel - and his blonde hair hung over his forehead. it didn't look soft, like how Miguel's did--

your grip tightened around the half-empty cup, thumb-sized welts melting through the plastic with the electric heat of your hand. shut up.

he brings you another drink. you chug it without another thought. he laughs and wipes at a red drop running down your chin with a cool hand. the bar swims around you in technicolour strobe lights and before you know it, the enthusiasm of the good times are whittling down to a thin thread.

"can i walk you home?"

you nod. he slips your hand in his and it's still too cool against your hot palm.

in the barely lit street, you wonder if he notices your glow. it wasn't so bright when you wanted it to be, but he was still too distracted by the tune of his own voice to notice.

"and we went down to the dock that day, there was a whole keg stand and we even--"

you think that maybe if you were as drunk as you were an hour ago that you'd have more energy to entertain him better. you nodded dumbly instead.

a quick in and out, you thought. you could tolerate him just for a few more hours if it meant he left your bed before the sun rises. he wasn't who you wanted, but he was here. and Miguel wasn't.

now that the alcohol in you was dwindling, not dead but dying, the melancholy of your situation was curling a cold hand up and making it hard to breath where it wrapped around your throat.

your building watched contemptuously down at you when you drew to a stop in front of it.

the man's, Cooper's, blue eyes draws circles over your face and his hand finds your waist again. he inches you closer.

"am i saying goodnight, or are you inviting me inside?"

you smile at him. it's faint and half-assed.

the rest of the night looms in your mind. could you really stand his Old Spice reeked conversation for another few hours? and would he really be able to get your mind off--

oh, oh. he's leaning in.

his thumb is pressing into the cavern of your cheeks, eyes pressing closed as rum-stifled breath nears your lips--

thwip. thwip.

there's a gust of air and a thump and Cooper is plastered to the side of your building in white webbing. his hands are pinned at his side, face white in shock.

your eyes widen. you teeter on shaky drunk legs, turning to face the rooftops where the darkness is blanketing over them and hiding where you know Miguel is lurking within.

alcohol infused rage claws up within you.

"O' Hara!" you scream out into the street. your hands heat, the streetlamp above flickering wildly under your influence. "you fucking asshole!"

your foot stamps against the concrete, hands racing up to your head and through your hair. "aaaghhh--!"

the bulb in the streetlight bursts. glass showers over your tantrum. it follows down the row of lights down the street, exploding in quick succession and sinking the sidewalk under an inky black cover.

you're now shining like a light on the mast of a fishing ship, casting a glow over the sea of tar. the spider is yet to emerge into your line.

"you are so full of shit! and if i see you again i will blast you through the whole city block, and this time you won't wake up--!"

"what the fuck--"

you turn with glowing eyes on the blonde bound to the wall, "shut up!"

thwip. his head bangs back against the brick where another web has sealed his mouth shut.

whipping back, your eyes find a shuffling figure over the next building. it's just a flicker of movement and then it's gone.

"ugh! you are so childish!"

you draw your hands over your face, running them down your cheeks and sigh. a couple deep breaths later and you can feel the heat of your power subsiding, it's dragging the anger down along with it.

"i'm going to bed." you mutter, patting down your skirt and fixing the edge of your shirt.

"mmpf--" Cooper moans against his restraints.

you'd just about forgotten about the man glued to your building. you cock your head at him.

"yeah ... well. good luck with that."

the buzzer echoes behind you when you shut the gate on his struggling.

-

it's hot when you wake up.

the covers are sticking to your legs and there's an itch in your throat for a tall glass of water. somewhere beyond the thrum of a headache against your forehead, you remember the bottle of water you set aside to cool in the fridge for this exact moment.

you groan when your feet hit the floor, the rush of blood to your head doing nothing to aid where your brain is pounding.

the apartment is warm with the soft glow of nearly morning. your alarm clock is flashing red - 05:02

orange light peeks over the counter when you pull your fridge open, the glare of starchy blue light pressing against your sensitive eyes. from the bottom drawer, you fish out the bottle and unscrew the cap.

you chug it down noisily, wet slurps echoing across the room. when you set it down you sigh, "god."

the image of your bed swims in your mind. the lure of the sheets calls to you again.

"princesa."

your back slams into the edge of the counter, "j-jesus--"

lurking in the corner by the door, wide shoulders out of place in the cramped apartment, stands Miguel O' Hara in his shiny red and blue suit.

your heart leaps into your throat, lodging there like a stone. you swallow around it. fuck, he looks so good.

"you," you stabilise the water bottle where it's spilt over the floor from your leap in fright. "what the hell are you doing here?"

he takes a step towards you. you press further back against the counter.

"i came to talk to you."

you guffaw, mouth slackening in amused disbelief. "talk? now you wanna talk?"

rising irritation flushes blood down to your legs, anger urges your steps forward all the way until your standing beneath him.

"you have been a pain in my ass for two weeks now--" you shove a finger into his hard chest, rising enough electricity to zap him but not enough to hurt. well, not hurt too much. he flinches.

"i've been a pain-- you electrocuted me through the side of a building?"

his face twisted, brow-bone hardening where he was glaring down at you.

"you deserved it. and i hope it hurt."

"it didn't."

"you're a liar."

silence rung into the space. you held your glare, but could feel it slowly softening. Miguel's hair was creeping over the edge of his forehead and his eyes had turned back to their chestnut brown that glittered in the sunlight peeking through the window.

he looked so ... so tame in this light. cramped into your apartment like he could belong there, like he could maybe be yours if you asked.

you broke first, turning away. "get out, Miguel." it was a whisper but you know he heard it.

"i need to talk to you."

you shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze again. "you had two weeks to talk, but instead you've been interfering in my life--"

"interfering? i saved you."

you huffed, forcing yourself to face him again. "saved me? saved me from what, a lunch date? a one night stand?"

at that, he turned away. face reddening. "i wouldn't have had to do that if you weren't going out with such fucking losers--"

"oh, pardon me for trying to find a date in my own dimension, someone who actually gives a shit about me.”

“i give a shit about you.”

you stilled. your lip wobbled against your will. “that’s not fair, Miguel.”

he shrunk the space by taking another step. “i came to apologise—“

you shook your head again. eyes finding the floor. against your sides, your palms were warming again: your next steps playing out in your mind.

another scalding hand to the chest, his body seizing underneath your palm and dragging his unconscious body out onto the street. probably come back and cry yourself back to sleep.

your hand rises.

“oh no,” thwip. thwip. “not this time, mi amor.”

just as he’d done to Cooper, your hands were plastered back against your apartment wall: splayed out against the cream paint job.

“this webbing thing is getting real fucking boring O’Hara—“

he was against you in an instant. warm, solid chest pressed against your pajama shirt. his hands came to cup your cheeks.

“i came to apologise.” you pressed your head back against the cold wall, eyes trained on the corner of the floor in your kitchen. it needed a vacuum. “i know i should have come when you asked. i know that.”

if you look at him, for even a second, you’d crumble and you knew it. your eyes were clouding, waterline wet.

a calloused finger ran slow and gentle down your jaw. “please look at me, princesa.”

you shook your head. a stray tear chased down, catching under the press of his finger.

“why don’t you go bother one of your other inter-dimensional girlfriends, Miguel.”

he growled at that, low and deep, and you’d be a liar if you said your knees didn’t buckle under the sound.

Miguel pressed forward: cheek to yours, hand digging welts into your hip.

“there’s no-one else. there’s only you, it’s only ever been you.”

you huffed at that, it curled at the edge with a humourless chuckle. “what, with this jawline and these muscles? i hope you don’t think i’m a fucking idiot.”

he caught the lobe of your ear between his teeth, pressing his body harder to yours, but you didn’t relent. your eyes fluttered against his heat, but stayed trained away from his shadowy figure.

“why are you so fucking difficult.” his breath was warm there. “you said prove it, Miggy, and i’m here proving it.”

“you’ve always known i was difficult.” you whisper, it’s more of an after-thought really.

he sighs, shoulders loosening just enough that you can make it out in the corner of your eye.

the flat column of his nose presses into your cheek. he nudges it there softly and it warms a pit deep inside you.

“sí, mi amor. lo sé.” hot lips press into your cheek and a whine escapes you before you can catch it. his thumb has reached up and is pressing into the space behind your ear.

his lips are traveling, just barely grazing your skin with pecks down your jaw. then to the column of your throat, to the bend between your shoulder and your neck.

“i know that … and you know that. and yet you still have no concept of how much trouble you make for me.” his voice swooping into the crevice of your collarbone. his teeth graze over that same spot. “how i can’t even work without thinking about you, watching every monitor hoping you’ll be in another dimension causing chaos so i can come find you and you can bat those pretty fucking eyelashes at me. can’t sleep. think about you lying beside me. about all the pretty noises i can draw from your pretty throat.”

his knee sinks to the ground, hitting the floor with a soft thump. the other follows shortly after.

that draws your gaze off the floor, eyes wide in surprise. they find the supple curls on the top of his head.

even on both knees, the crown of his head brushes under your nose.

the sight was widening the lump in your throat. it burnt to swallow.

“and yet you still never came.”

he shakes his head at that. gentle hands reach for the end of your pajama shirt, tugging it up slowly. Miguel leans forward and presses another kiss against the soft fat over your exposed hip.

you twitch against him, gasping at the heat of his lips over your cool skin. at your hands, your fingertips crackle with summoned energy. you can feel where the webbing is slowly melting under it’s press.

“‘s not true.” he says against you. “i’m here all the time.”

your shirt is being lifted higher as his head chases up your naked stomach, nipping at the skin where it freckles with goosebumps.

“i come to watch you—“

“that’s not creepy at all—“ you mutter, only teasing, and you’re punished with a particularly hard bite at your ribs.

“come because i miss your face and your laugh and …” he sighs, nudging his cheek against you. “god you make me fucking sick.”

there’s a squelch where the webbing has melted just enough for you to pry your hands from the wall, immediately grasping for the depths of Miguel’s hair.

“ever the romantic.” you huff. but you tug on his roots so he’s facing up to you, neck stretched deliciously with veins and hard muscle.

he’s blinking, lips parted as he waits for you.

“are you being serious, Miguel?” you ask quietly.

his eyes twinkle. “i am.”

you purse your lips, a smile creeping up into the corners of your mouth. your nails scrape over the crown of his head, trailing down to rest at the base of his neck. his eyes flutter shut against your hand.

“this might be the best apology i’ve ever received.”

he hums. “that’s good.”

“is it over, or should i let you finish? cause i’m kind of itching to kiss you right now.”

a smile of his own creeps over his face. it’s a sight you’ve maybe caught a glimpse of once in your life.

“i’m done.”

he leans up, persuaded by your touch reaching to cup his jaw. he’s almost at your mouth when he whispers again.

“you’re not gonna electrocute me for trying to kiss you again, are you?”

you laugh at that, his grip on your waist tightens at the sound. “you ever gonna let that go, old man?”

“old man?”

he surges forward, lips finding yours in a bruising kiss.

you giggle against him and your hands are everywhere: through his hair and down his shoulders and over his jaw. his tongue slips in against yours and it's saccharine like you'd always dreamed it to be. Miguel's hands race up your calves, behind your knees and hook beneath your thighs. he lifts you with him when he stands.

your legs wrap around him and he's persistent, pushing you against the wall in the heat of his kiss.

you detach your lips from his, chasing them down his cheek and into the crevice between his jaw and his neck. he groans, fingertips driving deeper into the plush of where he was holding you up by your thighs.

"i should get you jealous more often."

he guffaws, face above yours. "me? jealous of those idiots? as if."

leaning back to meet his face again, you cock an eyebrow. "you wrecked that guy's car. and taped the other one against a building."

his eyes rolled, an all-too-pretty blush darkening his face. he dropped it against your shoulder, "you know about the car?"

you laugh. "what else is big enough to flip a car in Manhattan. and the claw marks? you're so transparent it's almost hot."

Miguel chuckles and it's ticklish against your skin. he drops another kiss there. "i don't like sharing."

"sharing?"

he's back to nipping spots up your neck. "don't wanna share my girl."

the smile on your face was impossible to squash. "oh, i'm your girl now?"

he nods. "will you be?"

your fingers creep back into his hair, bringing him back into the light of your eyes. "you're not trying to make a hero out of me, are you? convert me to your little spider-squad?"

his lips purse, pretending to consider it, before eventually shaking his head. "no."

“wouldn’t a villain and a spider-man together collapse the multiverse or something?”

“then let it collapse.”

your thumb tugs on his fat bottom lip before letting it snap back in place. "god you're a sweet talker, Miggy."

you press forward to kiss him again. he sighs.

-

comment and repost if you enjoyed <3

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[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 14

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: A bit high PG13 in our flashback and some anxiety. AN: Dude, I'm still fucking sick. Also, I edited and posted this while working because I'm sick and it's Friday and fuck these doctors, they don't get to dump dictation on me at the end of the week and be like "It's urgent." No, fuck you and the horse you rode in on, it's not Urgent if you didn't do it till now.

~~~~~<3

Mia slept like a rock but was up right on time. Of course, on time wasn’t late enough. She rarely got enough sleep when she worked nights but she would make up for that later, she always did.

Peeking in on Sally, she found the little one still asleep. It was seven in the morning, she would be waking soon. Generally, she wasn’t one to sleep in. 

Mia took the chance to make breakfast in her new kitchen. The task wasn’t terribly difficult, even though she hadn’t even had a chance to unpack thanks to each box being labeled so clearly with the contents. Having a packing and moving crew was surely worth every penny Tom had paid for them. 

~~~~~<3

Sally sat at their little dining table, too small for the space- something Mia never thought would be a problem in her life as pancakes were set in front of her. They had a busy morning ahead of them. 

Ikea opened at ten and Mia had every intention of being there at opening. She intended to find a nice enough couch that was also affordable. Tom had probably intended for them to get a nicer couch than an Ikea special but he wasn’t here to stop her. She was unsupervised with his credit card.

The ping of her phone drew her attention. It was a text message form Ashley with a link. “Your man was on The Late Show.” 

Sally was coping well with Tom’s absence so far. Mia didn’t want to risk ruining that when she had such a busy day ahead of them by reminding her that Tom had left so rather than just following the link, she spent time digging out her headphones from her purse. 

“Momma,” Sally called, “Can I get something pretty for my new room?” 

“Yeah, sure. We’ll see what we can find.” Mia was paying more attention to jabbing an earbud in her ear. “Finish eating while I get dressed, alright?”

~~~~~<3

Mia wasn’t one to watch late night TV. She was either sleeping or she was working. Plus the famous person or politician or whoever chatting with a host about movies wasn’t really her thing. 

She set her phone down on her dresser as she traded out her pj pants for a pair of jeans. The screen loaded onto a man already talking to Tom. It must have been a clip from the show, not the whole segment. As she got dressed, she couldn’t help but be absorbed in the short video.

~~~~~<3

“You were just in Vegas, right?” The man said, leaning forward in his chair. His dark hair was cut short yet somehow still just a little wild. He had large eyes and the infectious smile of a late night comedian. 

“I was, yes.” Tom smiled.

“It was an eventful few days I hear. You got up to some stuff.”

Tom chuckled. “Eventful yes, you could say that.” 

“And you left with some bling.” Tom’s fingers twitched ever so slightly as the ring was pointed out. He wasn’t sure where this was going but he knew he needed to tread carefully. “There’s pictures!” The man said, “Bring on the pictures.”

The screen switched to Tom and Mia running down the hall, her white dress flowing and sparkly high heels glittering in the too bright lights of a hotel hallway. her face was obscured by Tom’s shoulder but his face was clearly visible.

His cheeks were bright red though if they didn’t know he was out of his mind wasted, they could believe it was from the private moment being intruded on. 

The picture switched to them kissing in the bar some time earlier. Dim lights gave them a warm glow and they had drinks in front of them. Tom’s hand was on her neck and hers was resting on his thigh as she leaned forward. Her face was obscured by his as she leaned into the kiss. 

“You’ve kept a romance under warps, Mr. Hiddleston.” The host teased. Color flushed Tom’s cheeks.

“I do like to keep my private life to myself.”

“And how long have you too been together?”

“That’s private.” Tom dodged. “But all anyone needs to know is I care for her deeply otherwise I wouldn’t have married her.” 

“So it’s not a ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ situation?” The host pressed. 

“I’m as married today as I was Friday night.” Tom reiterated. 

“Tell us about her!” The host propped his head up in his hands. If it was possible, he would have had hearts in his eyes. It was clear that the host and Tom had a report and were familiar with each other in a friendly way. 

“She’s not a public figure.” Tom started, picking his words carefully. “Her privacy is important and I want to respect that. She’s not married to Actor Tom, she’s married to me and that’s a beautiful thing. Her name is Mia and-”

“Mia!” The host cried, popping up in his seat. “What a lovely name.” 

“She’s lovely.” Tom agreed and on the other side of the country, in a different time and place Mia’s face got hot. “She’s absolutely wonderful and we’re looking forward to our future.” 

The host continued to lightheartedly press for details but Tom stood firm. They showed a few more pictures from that night neither could remember but not a single image showed her face with the exception of the picture of them going into the restaurant over the weekend. 

Had no one gotten a clear shot of her? That didn’t seem likely. Had Tom known ahead of time and asked for her face to be hidden? Was her makeup smeared and her face being hidden to protect their dignity? 

~~~~~<3

“I’m done!” Sally yelled from the dining table, throwing Mia back into reality. Perhaps not reality, in a strange way what was happening on the screen was very much a part of her reality. No, her daughter’s voice had served throw her back into the present more than anything. 

“Go get washed up.” Mia called, slipping a shirt over her head and quickly finishing getting herself dressed. 

~~~~~<3

Ikea was overwhelming, as it always was. There were too many people, too much stuff and in general, far too much stimulation. But she would get through it and in the end she would be rewarded with Swedish meatballs. That was just how trips to Ikea went. You survived and then indulged in cafeteria food. She didn’t make the rules. 

They sat on couch after couch as she picked which one would be best for the space. None of them really felt big enough but she was not going to go somewhere with more expensive sofas. That wasn’t an option. She would just have a lot of empty space in her living room. More room for Sally to play. 

The one they picked was one of the largest. Under the cushions were storage compartments. It was a few hundred dollars and would likely break down after a few short years at best, needing to be replaced but she didn’t care. 

While she hadn’t planned on it, she went ahead and got herself a pair of matching end tables and lamps to set on them. While the apartment had plenty of overhead lamps, there was a warmth that came from table lamps that she loved. 

Sally picked out a soft rug to put on the floor. All in all, Mia didn’t feel too bad about the spending. It was less than a couch would have been if she went to Ashley’s Furniture or somewhere similar like Tom had probably intended. 

The lamps were on clearance and that helped keep the cost low. The tables were the cheapest they had. Hopefully Tom wouldn’t mind. 

~~~~~<3

Mia was anxious as she stood in line waiting. She had paid for their lunches with her own debit card but this was going to go on Tom’s card. She had no plan B for if it didn’t go through. 

It was a international card, wasn’t it? Would it go through okay? What would she do if it didn't? What if they asked for her ID? 

It was irrational, she knew that. Tom was traveling and had been spending money without issue on this card for as long as he was there from what she had seen. Places rarely asked for ID for credit card transactions anymore. There was so much fraud protection that it had just fallen to the wayside. 

All the stress was for nothing. The card went through perfectly fine. No one asked her who she was to use it. No one questioned her. No one said “stop!”. It went perfectly, painlessly fine. As part of her knew it would.

The furniture would be delivered the next day. It was surreal to spend so much money at any one time. But it was done and she survived the flood of panic that came with spending his money. In the moment though, as she swiped his card, she thought she was going to revisit her Swedish meatballs. 

Would it get easier over time? Mia decided she’s really rather not find out. If she had her way, she wasn’t going to be doing anymore major spending on his card, at all. It was better she didn’t get used to this. Tom wouldn’t always be there to financially save her. He wouldn’t always be there to replace her couch. This was temporary. 

Sitting in the car before leaving IKEA, she shot a text to Tom letting him know she had spent his money as he had requested and how much the total was. 

She hadn’t heard from him all day. In the morning she had assumed he was still sleeping after working the late night appearances but now it was quickly becoming afternoon without a word. 

What did it mean? Why wasn’t he texting her? 

It drove her insane the rest of the day. She checked her phone repeatedly for a hello or even so much as an acknowledgment of the purchases.

 Nothing came however, leaving her to wrestle with the thousands of ‘what if’s that quickly took up residence in her mind. Time after time she started text messages only to delete them instead of sending. 

It was fine if he didn’t text her, right? It was okay if they didn’t talk, right? They were just strangers, really, at the end of the day. This was fine. 

~~~~~<3

The elevator walls were not mirrored but the polished stone may as well have been. Dark copies of the bride and groom surrounded them. They were alone and yet not, in this magical space. 

Tom advanced on her slowly. She matched every step he took forward with one of her own backwards. There wasn’t enough air in the elevator car as it moved up and up. 

Her heart was on cloud nine and the evaluator was taking the rest of her there. 

She couldn’t breathe. It felt like she was gasping for air in all the best ways before her back hit the polished stone wall. There was no where else to go. She couldn’t take any more steps backward. 

Her future didn’t stop just because her back hit the wall. Was this a sign of what her life would be like? Was this what her future with him would be like? Advancing faster than she could keep up? 

Her future put his hands against the stone on either side if her head, palms flat and fingers splayed. His elbows buckled and then he was supporting his weight with his forearms, oh so much closer than he had been.

His face hovered just inches from hers. His breath smelled strongly of whiskey but the air around him smelled of his cologne. The mix of the two together was intoxicating.

Leaning forward, she closed the distance. The soft velvet of his lips felt amazing against hers. There was a light stubble to his face, hardly visible but as he pushed into her, she could feel it. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands roamed around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Pinned between him and the wall, she didn’t have anywhere to go. There wasn’t anywhere she wanted to go. 

His hands groped her ass through the layers and layers of fabric that made up the skirt of her dress. Pulling up and forward, he had her off her feet. Wrapping her legs around him, only possible due to the many folds of the skirts, she embraced her future closer, trying to wrap herself around the very concept.

His lips left hers and made their way down her neck, leaving a path of damp butterfly kisses down to her collar bone. Nipping and sucking at the soft flesh had her squirming in his arms. 

The elevator wasn’t moving fast enough. There wasn’t a way she could get enough of him in here. At least, there was no legal way. There were cameras in the elevators and the halls. Again and again she told herself that.

His hand was large and warm. The warmth soaked into her breast. She arched into his touch. His touch was firm and strong. Muscles twitched and moved under her hands as she slipped them into his jacket after struggling with the buttons. 

She hadn’t felt like this in years. It was more intoxicating than all the wine they had shared. She felt powerful. Desirable. Wanted. 

Was this what love felt like? Was this what it felt like to be loved? It was the best feeling in the world. 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101 @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing

[darlinggeorgiedear]

hello i wanna ask you something

did george feel upset when mary doesn't sleep with him?

because i once read an article there mentioning that george doesn't like it when a husband and wife have to separate rooms. Also george is annoyed when one night Mary doesn't come to see him. And you have also posted an blog when george made a visit to Belgium and he felt uncomfortable because their room was far apart and then in the middle of the night george came to mary's room to meet her.

thank you!🕊️

Hi! Yes, he preferred to sleep in one bed.

“On George’s insistence, the royal couple shared a bed, rather than sleeping in two beds side by side; ‘I certainly prefer one bed,’ George had earlier told May, ‘I thought you did so too."(Jane Ridley, Never a Dull Moment) For context, George and Mary were discussing the sleeping situation for their travels by boat during a Royal Tour. Mary suffered from severe sea sickness, and I think was trying to have her own space for the boat, but George was having none of it.

From my understanding, in those days, the traditional sleeping arrangement was a couple sleeping in two separate bedrooms. George and Mary did have two separate bedrooms, but George always slept in Mary's bed. If a couple did sleep in the same room, it was customary to have two twin beds pushed together, which apparently George did not find comfortable. (Does that mean he liked to cuddle??Or did he just like take up the whole bed and a twin bed was too small?..)

The circumstance was a bit different concerning the night Mary didn't come to see George. That story is from when he was sick (so he would have been sleeping in his own bed) and was having a hard time sleeping. Mary started the routine of spending time with him while he couldn't sleep to keep him company. He had a tiring day (his sister, Toria, had a bit of a break down in front of him over his bad health) and the doctors recommended that she shouldn't disturb him.

Because it was common for Royal couples to sleep in separate beds, the far distance between Mary and George's bedrooms was probably not considered by the Belgian Royal Family. Since the fact George slept in Mary's bed would have been private knowledge, maybe the request of connecting or close bedrooms would been too impolite for George and Mary, so this resulted in George having to do a very long walk in the dark to sleep by his wife.

[deathsbestgirl]

so. after my dad died, my family decided to get another cat. my sister found a black & white litter at a shelter. there was one named crossword puzzle. we tried to adopt him, because my dad loved crossword puzzles. he did the ones in the newspaper everyday (or stockpiled them for the days he had time) when he was sick we bought him books.

crossword puzzle was adopted already, but his brother newspaper was still available. and we picked him up the next day. he was the tiniest sweetest little thing. i remember asking if i could pick him up, as in did he like being picked up. they said yes and i did and we was just so calm. he slept all the way home, and then as soon as he was in my sister's room...he was CRAZY. he was so playful & energetic.

unfortunately, our first cat *hated* him. she was really sad after my dad died. he was her favorite person and we wanted to give her a buddy. but she was always an old lady, and her mom abandoned her. or her initial owners did. we found her on vacation in nj, she walked right into our hotel room. and so my mom named her jersey as suddenly we had our first cat. my parents wouldn't let me take her home with me (i left earlier than them) because they were worried about her wandering the car & distracting me. really, i think my dad just wanted to keep her. we didn't have a carrier or anything and they literally just created a little bed in a box for her. my dad pretended jersey drove him crazy but he loved her. he would always sit with her and it's the calmest she ever was.

anyway. eventually when my (now) wife moved in, we decided we wanted another cat. newspaper actually needed a friend. he loved other cats and jersey hated him!! (he wanted to love her and she just screamed & growled & smacked him if he got too close). so my sister found lily tomlin. we had just watched gsme of thrones and there was a picture of lily sitting in front of a tv screen watching game of thrones. that, along with her name, lead us to adopt her. (now htgsc is one of my favorite episodes and i know my dad definitely laughed at that one as much as i do.) lily is a little scaredy cat who also *needs* other cats. she hid behind our toilet and literally wouldn't look at us for two days. so eventually we just let her out and she started snugging us whenever we were sleeping. like waking me up at 3 in the morning to pet her, then hiding from us when we were awake. but when we had newspaper in the room, she would come out. she followed him around and did all the things he did. newspaper did not like her at first. but once he knew that he was in charge, he loved her so much.

then two years ago, my mom & sister were moved out of the house and me & renata were living in my childhood home with our friends. se decided to get another cat. my cousin had just adopted from a shelter so she suggested we take a look. there was a cat named boodles (worst name i have EVER heard) but he was the cutest little thing. another tuxedo (like newspaper, lily tomlin is black with a little white spot on her chest) another little guy who needs to be with other cats, and we had two kitty siblings for him. so we got him and changed his name to saturn, because we love astrology & space & my dad drove a saturn for years. we picked him up on christmas eve and he kept my whole family awake all night because he screamed the whole night lol (and then we all got covid 😭)

now they're all best friends who definitely still fight like siblings. and they all make me feel very connected to my dad. the little weirdos. all named for a connection to him.

(jersey is now my sister's cat and she pretends to hate me) ((and if anyone remembers me posting about lily tomlin getting out when we moved, she is safe at home again and there was only a very short adjustment period with her brothers))

[croissantbae]

October 16, 2023

The past few weeks have felt like a whirlwind. While I’ve been on my phone constantly the past few weeks it was almost exclusively to take photos and communicate immediately with folks to coordinate meetups. I barely looked at insta or my emails. It was seriously wonderful. Today I went through my photo album of the past few weeks and it doesn’t feel like there are enough photos. I legit feel like there should be more based on how full the trip felt.

I’m not even going to attempt to summarize the trip. I’ll just jot down a few thoughts.

1. Even though we were with the kids 24/7 and they were driving us crazy at times, now that I have to leave them I feel really sad and I miss them so much. I really do just love our family. Same goes for extended family too. After my mom/bro/sil/Shiloh departed, it felt like we weren’t whole without them. We could feel the lack of their presence. My mom is also seriously so clutch. She came to our house before we landed, made bap and miyukgook, and then picked us up from the airport. The miyukgook sVed our lives. We ate it for dinner and then as a post sleep meal when the girls were up in the wee hours of the morning. And then for breakfast the next day lol. She’s also coming tomorrow to take the girls to school because Jason has an important meeting. I would want to pay it forward for our kids but I’m generally assuming they won’t have kids (bc of climate change).

2. Adjusting to time zone changes is a bitch. The kids were waking up super early and sleeping very little when we went. And adults got virtually no sleep in the plane ride over. The girls slept fairly well but they were really squished lying next to each other on the seats. I actually got sick on the second day in and I think it was mostly from extreme sleep exhaustion (because we were already deprived from the sleep training saga and nerves not being able to sleep from starting a new job). It felt pretty miserable those first few days but thankfully the whole fam was there to watch the kids so I could get some rest. Now coming back we’re also getting terrible sleep and the kids have been awake anywhere from 11 to 4 am but I actually feel like I’m still sleeping better this time around. Today the girls slept in until noon and then I took them to school at around 2 just so they could play for a few hours. Hopefully they wake up earlier tomorrow and can actually go to school on a relatively normal schedule. Godspeed to my mom.

3. My grandma is so old. Like seriously. She was sooo happy to see us she was trying her best to keep up with us. She was actually walking so fast I was shocked. But she said she didnt care if she died she was going to walk as fast as she could so she could hang with us and not be seen as a burden. I could tell she really enjoyed herself and she bonded a lot with Dani. Jason’s grandma is much older than my grandma (I think by 10 years) but she’s still soooo healthy. She walks with a cane now but I love how social she is. We told her we’d come by to hang out the next day but she said she couldn’t because she was busy with her friends 😂. When we hung out w Jason’s family they took us to their local gogi jib (one we went to years ago too) and wansun Emo made me drink w her so I drank a bottle of soju and she drank a bottle of makgeoli lol. It was a lot of fun and the girls were thankfully well behaved.

4. Overall the kids really seemed to love Korea and want to go back. I fell in love with jejudo and seriously want to go back to the same hotel. But if we did go I wonder if it would be nearly as magical without the whole friend group there 🧐. I suspect not but there’s a different kind of fun just being with family too.

[enam3l]

Your writing skills are pure gold. I literally ate your rockstar Eddie posts.

Maybe the next step could be the tour and y/n accompanying Eddie as much as she can. Both living the tour life? And how about a spontaneous wedding when they have a show in Las Vegas? Nothing is more rockstar than a wedding in Las Vegas!

thank you so much!! so Eddie and y/n don't get married until 94 and that fic is coming - don't you worry. but your wish is my command! this is a bonus fic. a huge thank you for 500+ followers. thank you for enjoying everything and being a part of this story.

half the world away (rockstar eddie munson x reader) 4k / fluff / smut / slight angst

a direct follow up to rockstar eddie munson is gonna get the girl and god help anyone who stops him you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist!

Corroded Coffin’s first nationwide tour for their debut album started in New York with a full house. It started the precedent that Corroded Coffin were the must see band of 1989, it's also where you and Eddie parted ways. Much to Eddie’s despair, your work whilst flexible, couldn't allow you to chase your boyfriend round the country in a tour bus. Between weeping tears and desperate kisses, you said goodbye before Eddie got onto the bus, departing New York to complete the East Coast leg of the tour – leaving you behind. For a month you would be apart, only rejoining him in October for the West Coast dates. It was the longest you'd ever been apart since meeting earlier that year in February. Since confessing you were in love with each other over the summer, you could admit your heart ached without him, like part of your soul left on the tour bus with him. Ultimately you were pleased and proud, despite the boys insistence it was okay, you knew this was their first tour and they needed to experience it just the four of them without you crashing. Gareth had pinky promised to look after him and he had.

Before every gig, no matter the time zone, Eddie would call and you'd run through a pre-show ritual you'd developed over the weeks. Before you could ask anything, Eddie  would insist on knowing every detail he was missing; what happened at work that day, what you ate and how you slept. As if he wasn't the one living the adventure. Then in return  he’d recap the night before, how their journey had been, what his review of this city was and what the guys plans for the set were. Tonight’s show was Texas before the band took a week break in California then making their way through the west coast, curving over the top of the country and ending up in Indiana again. You were supposed to meet Eddie in California in a weeks time but some sweet talking to your boss found you on the plane from New York to Austin, Texas. The past month you'd been meeting deadlines early in hopes you could persuade your work to let you finish early and using the California offices before following Eddie on the last leg of the tour. In the months you'd been together you'd discovered one thing; Eddie would do anything for you and loved surprising you. Whether it be as simple as keeping your favourite snacks stocked to cancelling his whole schedule to nurse you when you had tonsillitis to surprising you with your favourite flowers. For once, you wanted to be the one surprising. It had been hard to keep your lips sealed as you heard the broken turn in his voice over the phone when he confessed how much he missed you. It was nearly impossible during last nights phone call when he said he’d call you tomorrow, to not burst into giggles and say he wouldn't need to call. 

Eddie was pacing anxiously as he dialled your number for the fifth time only to again be met with torturous rings. He was cursing himself for not having another way of contacting you, for never getting your work or neighbours number incase of emergency. He felt sick, he had heard your voice twice a day for the last thirty-two days, it's what kept him calm everytime he realised he was on tour and all these people were paying to see him. Your soothing voice was the only thing that helped him feel grounded. He was frantic now, rambling round backstage begging anyone to point him in the direction of another phone incase the one he'd been using was faulty. On his third phone he decided this wasn't technical errors - you weren't there. Eddie stared at the phone as the dead line hummed, the jarring noice only adding to his nausea. His mind raced with possibilities, none of them he liked. 

Were you okay? Had there been an accident? Did you forget? Were you angry at him? 

Eddie hadn't been pushy with the calls, every night he reassured you it was okay if you had plans and couldn't make the call but so far you had everytime without fail. Even when you'd been out you'd found a phone behind the bar, easily charming any staff into letting you use it to call your long distance sweetheart. 

The rest of Corroded Coffin watched anxiously at Eddie’s panicked ranting. They knew exactly why you weren't answering but they'd been sworn to secrecy and didn't want to ruin a surprise that he'd be grateful for in two hours time. Once it was show time Eddie felt awful knowing these fans had used their hard earned money to see him, he'd been there before, saving every penny to see his idols. But instead he could barely hear the music or the audience cheers, all he could picture was you hurt: hit by a taxi, fallen down the stairs, mugged, murdered, somewhere alone and in trouble when he should be there to protect you. There was also another horrifying possibility that nagged at Eddie, despite knowing you'd never believe anything, he couldn't help but fret Carla or someone like her had fed you something to make you angry at him. Eddie is grateful the set list had stayed the same, drilled into him so much that playing was instinctual and any mistakes were hidden by the other guys who could see him chewing his lip out the corner of their eyes. By the time the gig has finished, he's running off stage. Shouting a ‘Sorry man!’ at the roadie he just hurled his guitar at. Gareth is quick on his heels, not wanting him to go awol and miss the surprise. Luckily Eddie is back at the phone, rapidly punching in your number before chewing his nails as he's met again with taunting rings. Gareth carefully approaches, careful not to spook his friend. 

‘Hey bro… I'm sure there's a totally reasonable explanation. Why don't we head back to the bus?’ He attempts to carefully guide Eddie towards the exit but he digs his heavy boots into the ground. 

‘No Gareth! You don't understand! Something is wrong, I know it. I gotta keep trying!’

Gareth sighs, attempting a new tactic. 

‘Well if you get on the bus, you can get to the hotel where you can dial to your hearts content from the room. Right?’ 

Eddie nods his head letting his now red nails find his mouth again as he allows Gareth to tug him along. The rambling continues all the way to the bus door and Gareth is thankful you're not actually in trouble because he's not sure he could cope listening to the improbable situations falling out of Eddie’s mouth such as ‘rats are getting really fucking big in New York now man. What if one got her? What if it came up the fire escape?’ 

They're in the living area of the bus when Eddie tries to double back and return to the venue, 

‘Fuck!’ He whelps, 'shit, I should've called Marissa. Got her to go round and check on y/n. Fuck I gotta go call now!’ 

Gareth swoops round to barricade the door, attempting to block the exit of his friend who towers over him. 

‘Good god man!’ Gareth cries, ‘just go check you've got all your stuff in the room and then we’ll get you to the hotel. There you can call Marissa, the mayor, fuck me, we can even call President Bush and see if he can track her down. 

Eddie groans, scowling at Gareth as he opens the door to the bedroom area. He's puzzled to see a smirk spread over Gareth's face before leaving the bus completely. Brow furrowed, Eddie turns to face into the bedroom and his hand drops from the handle. 

There you are, perfect and in one piece, just as Eddie left you in New York. Your sat on his bunk wearing a new Corroded Coffin t-shirt from the tour and somehow looking more ethereal than ever. Eddie bounds over to you, the force of his steps and the leap onto the bed causing the bus to shake. You're in fits at giggles over his eagerness, Eddie’s face immediately burying his face into the crook of your neck. He's completely flattened you with his chest whilst he straddles you and you can feel wetness on your neck. Eddie looks up at you his hands grasping either side of your head, stroking back your hair and you can see tears escaping his big brown eyes. 

'You're here…’ he barely whispers. 

You smile at your sweet boy, your hands now brushing back his curls and fringe so you can take in the face you missed so much. 

‘Yeah, Eds. I’m here baby.’ 

Slowly the shock and overwhelming emotion leaves his face, replaced by his most smitten grin. He dives back into your neck, smothering all exposed skin in kisses between his confessions. 

‘I…missed…you…so…much…sweetheart…I can't… believe…you're really…here!’ His kisses and curls tickle you. 

‘I missed you too baby. I never even went back to my apartment. Just stayed in yours, needed to be surrounded by all your Eddie-ness.’ 

He's beaming at your sentimentalism until he remembers the panic he was in just minutes ago. Eddie’s face turns into a childish sulk and he begins to bat at you gently for worrying him. 

‘Hey!’ You gasp, ‘what the hells that about!’

‘You scared me! I was so worried! Missed our call! I thought something happened to you’ Eddie moans and you can tell by the look in his eyes how genuinely worried he was. You pull him down to your chest and press kisses to his head.

‘Oh, Eds… I'm so sorry. I didn't think. But I'm here now, yeah? We’re back together now. I needed to see you, couldn't wait any longer.’ 

Eddie peaks up at you and nods and whispers, 'thank you baby, the best surprise I ever got,’ a dark look comes over his eyes and a smirk appears, ‘wish you'd worn nothing but a bow though.’

Later when you arrive at the hotel, Eddie is dragging you to the room. The second you're through the door he's throwing your bags down, manhandling you and throwing you on the bed before crawling on top of you. Your hands roam his body, desperate to reacquaint how he feels under your touch. Eddie’s eyes are closed in complete bliss as you lean up to kiss him. Instantly your lips melt together, craving to taste each other again. You're both desperate as your tongues meet, eager to get as close as possible. You bite Eddie’s lip as you pull yourself apart to catch your breath. 

‘God, I love you,’ he pants. 

'I love you too Eds.’ 

For a while you just look at each other, taking in every little detail of the other that you've missed as hands trail over bodies. 

'Shall we get into bed?’ you sigh contentedly. Eddie nods. 

Eddie’s breath hitches as you appear from the bathroom wearing nothing but a smile. 

‘No pjs sweetheart?’

You shake your head. 'Don't think they'd be staying on long,’ you purr. 

A groan leaves Eddie’s throat and his hands grab for you. 

‘Get. Here. Now.’ 

There's no need for him to persuade you, you're skipping over and straddling him immediately. Every part of you has ached for every part of him for over a month. His lips at immediately on your chest, dotting kisses over your breasts and his fingers run over the curves of your body. You sigh blissfully, feeling relaxed finally now your skin is touching. 

‘Need you Eddie.’

He murmurs in agreement, feeling the growing wetness from your folds through the thin fabric of his boxers. In return you can feel his aching hardness. 

‘Going to fuck your girl good, baby? Like I'm your favourite groupie?’ You chuckle. 

Eddie looks up and the look in his eye makes your heart stop, he looks serious but his chocolate eyes full of so much adoration. 

‘No sweetheart. I'm going to make love to you, make you feel how much I've needed you with me this whole time.’ 

A gasp escapes your lips as he carefully flips you over so you're lying down and he hovers above. Lips reuniting in a deep passionate kiss, inhaling the other. Your fingers pull at his waistband and Eddie sighs as his throbbing cock is freed and you sigh at the sensation of your bodies completely bare against each other. Without realising, you're pushing your hips up to feel his length against you, both of you mewling at the friction. 

Foreheads pressed against each other as you both whimper as you grind against each other. Wetness covering Eddie’s length as he slides between your folds, catching your clit as he makes each movement.

‘Need-need you inside Ed’ you pant. Eddie tries to compose himself so he can form words. 

‘Not… not yet sweetheart. I just - I really need to taste my girl, okay? It's been so long.’ 

You can only nod as he litters kisses down your sternum, between your breasts, your stomach where he licks a stripe down to your belly button and then continues his kisses until he reaches your mound. Eddie doesn't care, he can't resist burying his nose into your triangle of curls. Inhaling your most natural smell, it's soothing, it's like home. It makes you giggle slightly, endeared at how blissed his face is. Your giggle is stifled as your mouth turns into an ‘O’ as Eddie quickly buries his mouth this time into your folds. His wide tongue lapping you with one broad swipe, his face blissed at the taste of you. Then his mouth finds your clit, suckling it causing your head to fall back against the pillows. The sensation alone nearly unravelling a months worth of pent up sexual frustration. Eddie brings his thumb to replace his lips over your bud as he watches the way your hands seek out your breast, pinching your nipples. He sees how hard you're trying to keep your head up so you can look at him. But regardless of how overwhelming the pleasure is, it's hard to look at Eddie when he's like this, his big eyes dark and sparkling with primal lust and love. Your mouth is agape and your eyelids fluttering as he continues to rub your clit whilst fingers circle your entrance. 

'You're so beautiful like this,’ he croons, 'I can't believe somehow I make you feel like this.’

Your hand reaches to caress his face, you're sure he's the most beautiful man you've ever seen. 

‘Eddie… no one has ever made me feel like this. No one ever will. My pretty boy.’

The nickname makes him moan and reattach his lips to your clit as he slides a finger inside you. You can see how he's started to rut against the bed and you're longing to make him feel good too. Struggling to speak you manage to whimper out 

‘I-I need you… inside b-but it's been a month. Need you to warm me up.’ 

Eddie freezes and looks up at you, his pupils now fully dilated. 

‘A month? Sweetheart… have you not touched yourself since I left?’

You bite your lip, a little embarrassed as you shake your head. 

‘No. Wanted to wait for you… it's not the same now I know how it feels with you.’

Eddie isn't sure whether to cum right then and there or cry over how much you need him so he settles with making his girl feel amazing. He slides another finger inside, scissoring them to ready you for his thick cock. 

‘Fuck, baby. I don't know what I ever did to get you.’ 

He fastens his fingers inside you as he returns to sucking your clit. Once he feels your fingertips begin to dig into his scalp and hears how loud your pussy is getting for him, then he knows you're ready. 

Eddie comes back up, arms propping him above you. Your mouths meet and you can taste yourself on his tongue, it only makes you more desperate to feel him inside you. You're longing for the closeness and reuniting of your bodies that can only come with feeling his cock within you. 

‘Please, please, I need you inside me,’ you beg now. 

Eddie spreads your legs further and guides his cock to your entrance. Both of you watch where you finally merge as one. Both moaning at the euphoria of your bodies finally joining again. You cradle each other's faces as he begins to thrust into you, tantalisingly slow. You look at each other adoringly, eyes filled with so much love. 

'Nothing compares to you sweetheart,’ Eddie pants. 

Eddie takes your thighs, draping them over his shoulders. The new position allows Eddie to bury deep inside you. The feeling is overwhelming filling and you love it, knowing you're physically unable to get closer to him. His movements remain luxuriously drawn out, his tip dragging past your sweet spot each time. You're only left with the ability to mewl, mouth agape. He begins to fasten feeling the way your walls clench him, making his balls clench in return. You reach out to pull him forward, giving you access to kiss and suck his pulse point in his neck causing him to keen your name. But your movement some how manages to bring him even deeper inside you and it makes your body freeze in shock and pleasure. 

‘Oh god, Eds… I need you to cum there. Deep. Inside’ you gasp. 

His pace fastens but remains as hard, ensuring he completely fills you.'Christ yeah okay baby, god I can feel how full of me you are… look at your belly.’

And he's right, as Eddie hits the deepest he can, your belly bulges with his cock and it makes you whine knowing he's completely taken over your body and heart. The pair of you struggle to look away, only doing so because Eddie's quickening pace has your head falling back. 

‘I don't think I can last much longer sweet boy, it's too good,’ you're practically whining. 

‘Me neither baby, missed fucking you so much.’ 

Eddie brings his hand now to rub at your clit and your stomach tightens instantly, your thighs clenching his neck. The noises you make are pornographic and drive Eddie wilder, near folding you in half so he can steal away the noises with a kiss. You make your walls pulse around him to edge him further and it leaves you mouth moaning into each other's open mouths. 

'I'm gonna cum Ed,’ you cry, ‘I love you so fucking much.’

He grunts, ‘fuck. Sweetheart say it again please.’ 

He's thrusting now deep and sloppily, his thumb pressing fast circles into your swollen clit. 

‘I love you I love you Eddie,’ you wail as your climax hits you harder than ever before. Your legs spasm round his neck and your fingers tighten round his biceps. 

'Jesus fuck I love you too y/n,’ he gasps as he says your name, his cum spurting deep inside you. He shudders and another rope fills your walls. 

Eddie collapses on top of you, exhausted after finally spending the cum he'd also been saving for you. You both pant as you brush away his fringe from his eyes. Both of your eyes and drooping, completely fucked out. After a while, he attempts to move but you stop him. He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

‘I… I need you to stay inside me. I've missed you so much… just need to stay close.’ Eddie’s heart melts at your need for him, he tucks your wild hair behind your ear before pressing a delicate kiss to the tip of your nose. 

'Of course. Anything for you, sweetheart.’ 

Carefully, he rolls you both over so you're on your sides. One of your legs hooked around his waist, allowing him to stay inside you. Both of your eyes begin to close and his cock softens inside you. Relaxed for the first time in a month now you're reunited, you both fall asleep, bodies intwined. 

Everyone can't help but notice how the tour improves drastically with your presence. Eddie has never played better in his life knowing you're metres away, eyes full of awe and pride at your boyfriends talent. The way you fit perfectly into his life like this only adds to the lingering feeling you're meant to spend your lives together. Every night watches how you chatter with the roadies, always offering help, how you make sure the band has always eaten and are feeling good, how you point out shy fans to Eddie and how you love being immersed in the after parties. No bitterness resides you after the Carla situation, the usual girls who follow their shows respect you and apologies for her behaviour. Eddie’s heart melts at the sight of you tipsy and mouthing along to his songs. Then at parties how you fawn over him chatting every bartender and security guards ear off about how the guitarist is your man. That along with the t-shirt you'd shamelessly produced that read ‘PROPERTY OF THE LEAD GUITARIST’, Eddie has never felt so supported, so loved in all his life. 

The tour bus had been upgraded with a mattress on the floor for Eddie. He insisted on taking it whilst you took the bottom bunk it was placed alongside. Both your lip reading skills developed rapidly so you could continue to talk to each other long into the night without disturbing the other guys. Unable to fall asleep in each other's arms like you'd both prefer, you found yourselves drifting off; your hand dangling over the edge of the bed so Eddie could hold it all night. More often than not you woke up fingers still intertwined unless Eddie had sneakily pulled you out of your bed overnight so he could feel your full weight on top of him. The guys were deeply grateful for not having sex in the bus so it resulted in you and Eddie getting creative with locations for the few weeks you were on tour. Bathrooms and dressing rooms across the country were marked by you both. Praying the pulsating speakers covered the noises of your moans and Eddie’s balls slapping against you as he bent you over sinks and sofas or propped you up against bathroom stall walls. Eddie insisted he played better knowing his cum was dripping out of you backstage or that you were struggling to stand, legs still trembling after having his face buried in your core. 

The final show was in Indiana and butterflies filled you both, knowing the last time he played here is when he met you. It was the most meaningful show of the tour. Neither of you needing to say a word as your hands gripped thinking about it. You went into the crowd to meet the whole gang who'd travelled into the city for the gig. Eddie played like a man possessed, his eyes unable to part from yours the whole time as you stood with everyone he loved most at the barriers in front of the stage. Seven months ago he was performing here in Indiana, not knowing the person he'd spend the rest of his life with was there and now you're stood in front of him, beaming and bopping around. Eddie wonders if this is heaven, convinced this is the greatest sight in the world, watching you carefree and excited just from watching him do what he loves. He watches your face turn to confusion as during the encore he starts with some unfamiliar notes. It's a new song, your song. Eddie wrote it whilst longing for your presence on the first half of the tour. Tears well as you realise this song is describing you. Steve, Dustin and Robin grin seeing the love between the pair of you, thrilled their meddling resulted in their friend getting the love he deserves. As Eddie reaches his solo you mouth 'I love you.’

Never taking his eyes off you, he mouths back 'I love you too, always.’ 

Eddie can't imagine playing music now without you by his side. The two things that saved him. 

[dokifluffs]

Papa and His Baby Owls | Bokuto Kōtarō

Pairing: Bokuto X Reader (female) 

Genre: fluffyyy!! Domestic dad headcanons 🥺 

Author’s Note: it feels so good to be writing again after this dreadful first semester!! it honestly feels weird but I hope to be writing a lot more so I can stock up and give you all baby fever again🥰

warnings! Post time skip!! Kids!! 

gif from @rivaillerose​ ✨

Bokuto huffed as a cool breeze blew through the neighborhood as the leaves on branches swayed in the wind, moving to the natural rhythm set by Mother Nature

With a swift motion, Bokuto unlocked the door to the front door, shutting it behind him

“Y/N, I’m home,” he called somewhat annoyed and tiredly into the seemingly normal house of the bright living room yet you were nowhere to be found

He dropped his heavy practice bag to the side where he normally did as he slid out of his outside shoes and into slippers, stripping off his team jacket and hanging it over the banister of the stairs to the basement

He heard light thuds, clicking sounds approaching from the dim living room, finding Bo, the family German Sheppard

“Hey, boy, is mama home?” He rubbed the happy doggo as Bo sat before bokuto before sinking down to the floor, turning onto his back

“Oh you want your belly rubbed, huh?” He slowly hovered his hands as they crept closer to his dog’s stomach, Bo playfully frozen on the ground yet his tail still wagging excitedly

“Oh you do!” Bokuto broke into a smile as he frantically rubbed his dog’s belly before patting him on the side

“Y/N?” He called yet you were nowhere to be found or heard or seen

He scratched the back of his head until he saw it

A clear note you had left on the table

“Hey kou, I ran to the store really quick to get something. I called and messaged you but you didn’t respond and I couldn’t wait. I should be back soon!” You signed your name with a heart and the time you left

“Hmph,” he pouted to himself wishing you were here to play with his hair, Bo rubbing against the buff wing spiker’s toned legs

He had such a bad practice today, he couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong or what was happening

He ate as much as Kirby did, slept like a baby, he was pumped yet all the balls Tsumu set just went right out of bounds or barely in bound

His serves were no better as they all made it over the net except for a few that bounced over the net but they were just barely in

No matter what he did, it felt like everything was just going wrong and there was nothing he could do to change it

This upset feeling felt so nostalgic

It felt like he was in high school again with Akaashi, someone who kept up with him when others couldn’t

And then it hit him

If you weren’t here to cheer him up or Akaashi, there was someone else

In fact, two others alongside Bo, but he was always a given

He went upstairs, followed by the clicking sound of the jingling of the tags on Bo’s collar and his nails muffled clicks on the rugs over the wooden floors toward the nursery to the shared bedroom and there they were

The cribs of his baby owls

He knelt between the two cribs that stood beside each other, end to end, with Bo beside him, sitting up straight like a good boyo as the two glanced back and forth as if they shared the same brain cells at his little babies, his twins

Bokuto D/N and S/N

The sun and moon of his life that were just a month over a year old

He rest his chin on his folded arms over the corner edges where the two cribs met, his gaze softened as he glanced down at his baby owls

They were so small and they were finally here

They had been here for a little over a year

He could remember the first time you started feeling sick, the months passing as your belly swelled bigger and bigger, confirming the news the doctor had already given you two

And instead of just one angel coming into his life beside you, two flew into his life and he couldn’t have asked for a better life despite all his hardships no matter how big or small

He would always show a smile to his baby owls no matter the anguish he faced

It felt that just being here with them for these moments as they passed second by second

Thunder rumbled as a vicious wind blew, making the branch of the tree sitting in the backyard slap against the backside of the house, just beside their window

They stirred from their late afternoon naps

He could see their comfortable sleep unfolding as he peered down to themes they began to stir from the sound of the storm

Bo leaned in close to the daughter’s crib, sniffling her little curled up fist as their tiny faces contorted and turned sour as his son let out a little pouty whimper, lip quivering, followed by his daughter doin gathering same as she took short breaths, her cries beginning to get louder

His hair perked up like a dog’s ears as he looked down to his babies

He couldn’t and wouldn’t have his babies so distressed, not on his watch

Naturally with his fatherly instincts, he scooped up his babies, each on his shoulder as they cling to his shirt as they sniffled, and he stepped into one of their cribs

He laid down with the two of them on top of him

His daughter laid down and his son sat against him before his little boy moved out of his grasp in a way so that instead of laying on his father’s chest, he laid beside him

He nuzzled his damp little face into his shirt as his whines and whimpers faded to nothing

The two little twins melted into Bokuto’s loving hold, his head supported by a small pillow meant for his son

But to Bokuto, no discomfort bothered him, especially now with his baby owls

If it meant they weren’t crying, that’s what made him content

“Shh, don’t cry, I’m here, I’m here~” he sort of whisper yelled but in a loving, non-aggressive way as he rubbed his daughter’s back, looping his hand around to wipe her eye with the side of his thumb gently

His eyes fell to his son, only to find him already fast asleep, his hands still clinging to Bokuto’s shirt

His daughter did the same as she calmed down, as little hiccups made her body jolt

Bokuto hummed peacefully in the small space with his babies as the storm blew on, blowing away with it the memory of his bad practice earlier today

Nothing else mattered anymore than this moment, this space with his babies

They were so small, so innocent and pure

It amazed him that he was a father to these precious beings

His heart could never stop fluttering around them

You drove carefully through the windy road of the neighborhood until you turned to your block, finally back through the storm that only got worse when you left

It almost felt like a sign that you shouldn’t have left in the first place yet here you were back home, relieved to see Kotaro’s car already in the driveway

You slowly drove your car into the driveway past his into the garage, safe from the rain pouring down outside

As the garage shut, the bags crinkled as you walked with them in hand

You were success in your little journey to get more formula, though it was most likely the last as you were beginning to wean them off of formula to whole milk

The door opened to a dimly lit house

Although bokuto’s car was home and you could see traces of him - his shoes and bag, it sounded and felt as if no one was home besides Bo and your twins

“Kotaro?” You called

Your note clearly had been moved as you settled your bags and belongings on the kitchen table

You were normally greeted by Bo yet he was nowhere to be seen or heard, but this only confirmed that Kotaro was home

The only thing was just: where?

“Ko?” You called again, mindful of your voice projecting up the tall stairwell and echoing, disturbing, as you hoped, your twins’ nap time

“Are you in here?” You whispered as you peered into the nursery, finding it just as you left it

Or so you thought

A warm and gentle light that illuminated stars from the same wall the backs of the twins’ cribs still shined, bouncing faint stars and moons around the room

But Bo was in there

And last time you checked, you don’t remember your son having a giant foot with toes that could barely squeeze through the wooden bars of the crib

As you stepped in, Bo wagged his tail upon seeing you, while also peering back into your son’s crib in particular

Glancing down, your daughter’s crib was empty and now you weren’t surprised

It was only a matter of time before he did this

You were actually more surprised Kotaro didn’t do this earlier

Bokuto laid fast asleep in what seemed to be a very uncomfortable position for his back and neck in the crib for your son, your daughter laid out like a starfish on his chest

Her cheek squished against his collar, face nuzzled into his neck as your husband slept soundly with his mouth agape, light snores coming out

He rested his hand on her bottom, holding her close while with the other, your son clung to his father’s large forearm like a koala

Seeing Kotaro like this, it reminded you of what Akaashi told you once about what he realized whenever Kotaro was having a bad day or time

In order to make himself feel safe and secure, he curled up in small places despite his huge and broad stature

From the lack of messages and from what you heard from Hinata and Atsumu earlier, today wasn’t his best performance

But he was here

“Kotaro,” you whispered as you silently undid the latch, lowering the front gate of the crib as you knelt close

He took a semi-sharp inhale as his eyes fluttered open, mindful not to make any too sudden movements  

“Welcome home,” he breathed out as he blinked slowly, looking down to his twins as they slept attached to him

“Do you wanna move them to the bed? So you don’t hurt your back or neck?” You pat your hand to his head, brushing your fingers through his soft locks, grazing your hand down the side of his face as he nuzzled himself against your touch

“It’s alright. I’m just gonna nap here for a bit with them before they’re too big for these cribs.” He leaned and kissed the palm of your hand before you took it away

“They’re not going to stay this small forever,” he mumbled as he never took his sleepy eyes off of them

“Okay, baby,” you whispered. “Sleep well, I’ll bring you a pillow,” you leaned close, pressing long kisses to his temple and cheek

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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[waveofahand]

The Fete: John Recounts Meeting Paul to a Cop

Someday I am going to actually have the strength to get back to writing and finish this book, but because today is “McLennon Day”, and because I have still not got anything new to post, here is an excerpt from Chapter 34, in which John tells an OC (a copper who has become a McLennon friend and confidante) about the day he and Paul met. It’s a rueful, bittersweet retelling because the talk occurs directly after a night when Paul’s PTSD has them all wondering whether Macca will ever be himself again after a brutal assault. I hope you like it, and if you haven’t yet read “Carry that Weight” I hope you’ll check it out. 

EXCERPT: 

Against every expectation, the previous day – and most especially the nighttime – really had been good. John had awoken to Paul sleeping deeply, and that had developed into an extended lie-in for the lad. Whatever it was that Brian was taking to “relax” himself, a single dose of it had knocked Macca out until the afternoon, and while Paul had slept, John and Dawson had shuffled about the kitchen, making coffee and eating cereal and speaking in low, worried tones about the night before – the strange mania that had gripped Paul for hours after he’d learned about the fruit basket, his mood swinging from defiant, to fearful; angry to childlike; flippant to defiant again. “We will need to get some help for him,” Dawson had said. John, hating the idea, silently nodded over his toast. “Never in a million years ever thought Paul would be the one needed help. Figured it would be me, if anyone; I’ve always had one foot in the loony bin, haven’t I?”

“Well…I’m sure that’s not true,” Dawson said, his face grim. “But I’m equally sure you never in a million years thought he’d be… taken apart as he has been. Need to be put back together.”

“No,” Lennon agreed. “The fuckers. Paul…” John looked up. “He was always right in his head. And so… so freaking strong. Strong willed, strong minded. When he followed me out of that bath last night, and looked so confused…”

His voice trailed off at the unsettling memory. He shook his head, taking a huge breath and closing his eyes, bringing himself under control. “Will I ever get him back?” He looked up, his eyes pleading the question. “Will I? The whole way back?”

Dawson’s eyes were full of sympathy, both for Paul, and all that was yet before him, and for John, to whom he could not possibly give an answer.

“It’s hard to predict. He’s been severely traumatized, so it’s understandable, both his wreckage and your wondering about it. And rape trauma…” he mused. “It’s hard enough for women. They get slandered; they’re tossed aside. They question themselves and whether they were ‘asking’ for it. For a man? There’s all that, plus the rest of it – the ‘is he still a man’ of it. Even if he’s not saying, John, you can be sure our Paul is thinking it, worrying over it. He is very lucky to have you, you know. You’ve not treated him like that…”

“It’s not luck,” John scoffed. “If anyone’s lucky, it’s me. My lucky day was the one when I met him. And every day since, even though I’ve been too stupid to see it.”

“I wish I’d met him before this,” the copper mused. “The little I gleaned of him before he got sick… I could see that in him, the strength, the strong will you mentioned. I’m sure it’s all still there, you know. But trauma…it’s tricky,” he repeated, as though trying to gather a specific thought.

“The day I met him,” John said, getting up to refresh both their coffees. “He was this 15 year-old -- and just fifteen, mind you. A month earlier he’d been fourteen. With a spangled white jacket and a pink carnation on the lapel. And the face.” He laughed as he sat down again. “Bloody fucking angel. He was a beautiful little Irish Elvis, still not full-grown, just getting past the baby fat. And feckin’ brilliant.” John shook his head, thinking back. “Minute I saw him, something in me just… recognized him. I felt like, ‘Well, here you are, Lenny, your whole life’s just shown up. Here comes the rest of your life’.”

“You were as struck as that?” Dawson wondered, “And himself walking the streets of Liverpool dressed so nattily? A bold thing.”

“You have no idea.” John smiled. “All the bleedin’ confidence I put on for show? He had it even back then, for real, and in spades. We had a mutual friend, Ivy, who’d brought him down to see my skiffle band play a church fete. We weren’t very good, but we were a band. Macca came by with his guitar and watched. When we met later, I asked him what thought and he just got this look, like --” John’s whole tone and demeanor grew soft with the affection of memory. “Little rat bastard wasn’t going to give anything away. Just looked me in the eye and said, ‘You’re alright.’ Get that? ‘Alright’, he said.”

Dawson chucked. “You’re painting a picture and I can see it so well…”

“So, I see the guitar he’s carryin’ and ask if he plays. He looks down at it, like he’s never seen it before and shrugs. ‘I’m alright.’”

The cop gave a hoot of appreciation. “That’s attitude.”

“Then he swings it over his shoulder and cranks out ‘Twenty Flight Rock’ like a pro, all the lyrics, all the chords down cold, and with that, that --” John sighed. “That voice. Clear as a bell, sweet and smooth as a custard. Gobsmacked, I was. We all were.”

“And that was that?” Dawson summed it up. “You were together?”

John shrugged. “Musically, that was that. The rest of it came a bit later. He was really young, you know.”

“Glad to hear you’re no cradle-robber, anyway.”

“No, I was a good boy,” John agreed. “I waited for him.” His lips pursed as he considered. “Maybe good practice, since I’m going to have to wait again. I should remember that, when the going gets tough. As I know it will, because I’m a selfish bastard.”

“You’re not so bad,” Dawson’s deep voice had a soothing note. “You’re a better man, I think, than you realize.”

“That shows all you know,” John answered back. “I didn’t say I didn’t lust after him. I just waited until you know… he was a bit older. Less boyish, I guess.” John sighed. “God, he just got more and more beautiful. He still is. I can’t even guess what he’s going to look like when he’s thirty. Here,” he reached into his pocket, hauling out his wallet. “When I took this shot, I thought he’d never look better. I was wrong, as I have realized daily.” He fished a photo from its depths, handing it to Dawson. “Still my favorite shot of him, though. So far.”

John Dawson’s gasp came out before he could stop it borne on a jolt of something instinctive and lusty. “Good Christ!”

Before him was Paul McCartney, his age indeterminate thanks to the grainy photo, but perhaps twenty or twenty-one, wearing dark swim trunks and looking a little bit cold, his broad shoulders narrowing down to trim hips and long, long legs. Legs so shapely any bird would love to have them, but without the fur, for the lad was surprisingly hirsute in the limbs. A swimmer’s limbs. With the dark hair. All so like my Neddy. Except hairy.

John Lennon watched the cop study Paul’s photo with a sharp bite of jealousy gnawing at his stomach. He suppressed it as unworthy. “That’s from a couple of years ago,” he said, reaching to reclaim the snapshot. “Our first trip to Miami in ’64.”

“An utterly gorgeous young man,” Dawson sighed, lingering another moment on the image before handing it back. He had the good sense not to add that Paul was just his type. Paul might have laughed when he said it, but John, Dawson knew, would fail to see the humor. And perhaps understandably, so.

“Aye,” John agreed, taking a second to appreciate the photo again, himself, before slipping it back into his billfold. “And he’s only getting better every year. And I’m getting… fatter, and more blind.”

[insecxreasalwqys]

such a great man.

I haven’t posted anything in a while haha. Since school started, I have been really tired and stuff, and I have just been unmotivated. But, anyways, here’s a fic that was sitting in my drafts unfinished, so i decided to finish it because im sick and have nothing to do rn :) It may seem a little unfinished, but i hope you like it :)

tw! Mentions of 4bus3, and su!cid@l thoughts. 

What a great man!

He heard the phrase all the time if his father was the topic. He was, according to everyone else, a great man. A great man who barely ‘talked’ to his son. A great man who overworked his son. A great man who had a son, just for the sake of looking good to the public. He didn’t blame one person who talked of his father highly. He was sure that to others, it did look as if his father was a great man, or kind person, etc, etc.  His father just left, and Chishiya was thinking over about what his father had said to him, years ago. When he was perhaps 9, or 10, his father would still yell at him, the same way he would today. When he was young, he would dare to talk back. He would complain about it through tears, which, in the end, would only lead to injuries. He was told by his father, who’s words rang loud and clear, that Chishiya had to deal with it. That he had to suck it up. That day ended up being too much for the boy, and he took his father’s advice. He didn’t talk back, and nowadays, didn’t care. He would just stare at his father, while the man lectured him.  He doubted himself. Perhaps his grades were way too low, perhaps he was dumb, perhaps his father was in the right this whole time. Perhaps he was just some brat who didn’t have a right to complain because he had a roof over his head. The more he thought about this, the more he believed it. Perhaps,  Chishiya was just too negative all the time, and his father was, indeed, the great man everyone else made him out to be.  Chishiya got out of his bed, and went over to his desk. He took out his laptop and books, and started studying. He felt as though he was just some robot, programmed to study, sleep for maybe 4 hours at best, eat occasionally, listen to his father lecture him for an hour, and repeat. He wasn’t too fond of it, but the great man who was his father impacted him to do that. So, maybe it wasn't too bad…right?  A few hours had passed, and it had gotten dark outside. Chishiya’s hands were a little tired, cramping up every now and then. It was really quiet. His father was doing whatever on his computer. His mother…he wasn’t too sure. He never really was. The things people would do for fame or to look good was one of the only things that actually confused Chishiya. Why would one spend 9 months of their life going through so much pain, give birth to a baby at the end, just to not care about them? He almost wanted to laugh at the thought of it. The sole reason he was brought into this world, was to be a decoration.  It was about 1 in the morning. Shuntaro had just finished studying everything, so he decided he would go to bed earlier.  Did I forget something? Did I study enough? Is all of my homework done? Did i forget about an exam? These things would run through his head. Always overthinking. Thats how he was. Because he knew that if he slipped up, or made one mistake, it wouldn’t end well for him. He slowly started to fall asleep, in that cold, silent house.  His eyes opened slowly, before he saw his whole room come into the picture. It was still a little dark. This was pretty normal for the time he would wake up at. He got up, before heading to the bathroom.  He went back to his room. It was maybe 5. He turned on his laptop, and went through some power points. After going through about 4 of them, he felt tired. He wasn’t too sure how, though. He could do this the days he slept at 4 and woke up at 5, yet couldn’t, even though he had slept at 1? Without taking anything else into account, he reacted to this by thinking he was just being lazy. That he was to blame. Chishiya hated these thoughts, but they always managed to get the best of him. It was almost as if he couldn’t control them. Once he had one negative thought, all the other ones came flooding in. One part of him said that he was just too soft. There were thoughts that told him if he was so unhappy, that he might as well throw it all away. Or end it all. But he always stopped himself. If he did listen, and threw it all away, and dropped out to pursue something else, then he would live with the guilt his whole life. And worst of all, his “family” would consider him as someone who was useless. Someone who cracked under pressure. Someone who was too dramatic. Someone who had failed. If he killed himself, then he would still be thought of as the same. And that was what really stopped Chishiya from listening. The one thing Chishiya feared at the end of the day, was failure. The one thing he had was the fact that he had done so well academically for years, and still is. He clung onto it. He based his self worth on his grades. Because if he didn’t have that, what was he? He adjusted his position in his seat, before opening his notebook. He entered in his password for his laptop, when he heard footsteps coming towards him. He looked up, to see his professor. The man was holding a single packet. Chishiya remembered he had taken a test 2 days ago. He came up to Chishiya’s seat, and handed over the packet to him. “Here you are.” He said, with a small smile. Chishiya smiled back, and thanked him. Chishiya looked at the top of his paper. 100. He shrugged, and put it next to his notebook. He heard the door open and two other students came in. Chishiya glanced at them, before turning back to his laptop. His class started in about 5 minutes, so he just sat back and waited.

He closed the door behind him, and took off his shoes. He let out a sigh, and relaxed his shoulders a bit. He went to the bathroom to wash his hands, and then went back up to his room. He did the same exact thing every single day. The idea that he would continue to do this for 2 years, and then go into residency haunted him. He was stuck in an endless cycle, that would continue for years to come. All because of a great man.  Idk how medical schools work, and i also didnt do research, so i hope i didn’t kill you too much with inaccuracy, haha. Also sorry if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes. I went over it and it didnt look like there were any, but maybe i missed something. Have a good day <333

[tsukkismoonlight]

Hello, may I request romantic matchups for Obey me and Demon Slayer?

I kinda look similar to this picrew I'm showing!

I'm 16-18 years of age, I'm about 157 cm (5'1.8 ft) in height.

I do not have a specific gender preference so male or female characters are fine!

Following my personality according to the Myers Briggs test I am an Intp with an enneagram of 6w5, I love to read, write, draw and bake in my spare time, my whole mood also depends on the group or person as well and I adjust accordingly. Whenever I draw I sometimes go absent minded and do not focus on anything else and I then draw alot of unfinished ideas.

I'm also a small bit of a clumsy person when carrying alot of things so I do have some scars here and there from accidents. And I think this is important too??? I'm considered the motherly one in my friend group so I'm always cautious for others or regularly check up on them, also treated some wounds here and there. Finally, my favorite colour is teal, black, gold and white!

I hope this works information wise and remember to get enough rest! Have a wonderful day.

The letter was well read, and now pinned to your wall amongst many pictures and art that you owned, something you would cherish in the days to come...

Hello !!! Im very sorry that this took ages to write/post, but i really enjoyed writing it! It's my first kny writing ever, so I hope it does it justice!!!

Anyways...

If i were to pair you with someone from /Demon Slayer/ i think that i'd pair you with…

Tanjiro Kamado !!!!!

(A little modern au for you!)

"Thanks for coming with me today! " Tanjiro smiled kindly, motioning to the little outdoor market that you guys had been venturing around for the past hour or so

"Oh, of course! It's really nice here!" You returned the smile, taking a moment to look away from all the stalls, to look back at Tanjiro.

Thankfully, he had asked you earlier in the week to go with him, and by chance, your afternoon was free. And it had been really nice, you even found some things that you were sure that you'd enjoy.

Most of the trip was so that Tanjiro could find food, and some things to help his sister feel better, since lately she was feeling fairly sick, and slept a lot. Which you of course wanted to help with, pointing out little items here and there that you either knew would be good to help, or just ones that you had been hearing good things about.

The weather was nice, not particularly hot, not too many clouds, a good breeze here and there that would shift the hanging items of the stalls. And, as you noticed this, a soft chime came from your right, and you paused, turning to look.

It was a windchime, the tubes clinking together to create a little melody. It was decorated with light blue crystals, ones that caught the sunlight and gave off small rainbows.

You gave it a small smile, and made a mental note to come back later for it, if you had the time.

"Hey, I don't want to lose you in this crowd," Tanjiro was suddenly at your side, and was holding his hand out to you. You paused at the sight, but eventually took his hand, noticing how your hands seemed to fit so well together.

The next stop was a little down the market, where an array of dried flowers and herbs were displayed proudly by the shopkeep. You let your hand slip from his for a moment to pick up a bundle of lavender, then a jar of dried wisteria petals, drawn in by the color that they still held so strongly.

You weren't really sure what you were supposed to use them for, but the idea of giving them to Nezuko just to have won you over, and you found yourself making the purchase.

Slowly, the sun started to set, and the stalls began to close for the night. It had been a pretty successful trip for the two of you, and it had even been fun.

"I hear that they have this every Saturday or so, if you want to come again!" Tanjiro pauses, giving a bashful smile, "and we won't need to only look for things for me,"

"Don't worry about that! I think it's cool that you care for your sister so much! But, I would love to go again! I saw a lot of cute things," You hummed, thinking back on all the things you passed and wanted to get.

"Well, actually, I didn't just get things for myself or Nezuko," he shuffled his bags around until he found the one he was searching for, and produced a small package made of brown paper. He passed it to you, face starting to turn a pinkish color.

You took it carefully, curious to see what it was, and as you started to peel away the paper, the light blue of the crystals from the windchime. Slowly you pulled the whole thing from its paper, a huge smile easily crossing over your face.

"I noticed you stopped to look at it, and it looked like you really wanted it, and i figured i could get something for you since you came with and really helped me, it really means a lot"

And, with the sun now behind you, you returned the words with a smile, "yeah, it means a lot to me too."

A moodboard for u

Thank you again sm for joining in on my event! I really hope you like what i made !! Have a lovely day/night !!

[wonlouvre]

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 2.1k WARNINGS: mentions of food, eating, hospitals, and brief mention of armed men

author’s note: finallyyy! been working on this for the past week and i’m relieved to be posting part 3 already! i’m not so confident about this and i am already warning you all that this could be dialogue heavy :((( please let me know your thoughts! i’d be really thankful to hear from you all!

three: subtle snuggles and light snores | masterlist

Wonwoo chose to work at the Royal Hospital of the neighboring kingdom at his own will.  He and the rest of the people in his kingdom won’t deny how the other kingdom pioneered in the line of medicine.That’s why in spite of the many offers and opportunities at his homeland, he wanted to gain experience somewhere else first before going back home. 

The marriage wasn’t served on the table before and when his parents broke the news to him, he was already hired and working for a few months. And now that a marriage is in talks, it seems unlikely that he’ll be going back anytime soon.

Wonwoo didn’t hesitate to agree. But someplace in his heart couldn’t help but wonder how it got to this. He’s not saying you’re terrible. You’re the exact opposite of being terrible. To him, you are amazing and awesome. A badass even. 

There’s nothing really holding him back. Even his past relationship that you brought up previously. 

It’s just that he wanted a purpose out of this union aside from the fact that this will bear the best outcome for his and your kingdom. 

Wonwoo was once in love. 

He knows, used to know rather, how his heart skipped a beat and how butterflies filled his stomach. But then came you and he is back to zero. He wants to like you. He wants to love you. 

He doesn’t want to be a husband recognized by the public. Instead, he wants to be the lifetime companion that you can lean on and trust. He hopes that you see that he’s trying to be one. 

It’s a challenge though, because he doesn’t know how or where to begin.

These thoughts have been running on his mind for the longest of days and even now as he gazes at your face, deep in slumber. What happened earlier was a shock. All he wanted was to invite you for a quick lunch before he goes to work and here you are now literally at his workplace, getting the right amount of rest you’ve been missing. 

“Your Highness,” the Royal Family’s doctor calls to him politely while the two nurses accompanying him check on you. Wonwoo only gives a brief nod of acknowledgement. “I advise the Princess to stay overnight to recover from her dehydration and stress. A day away from work would be immensely helpful.”

Wonwoo’s eyes don't leave you as he continues to nod and agree with the doctor’s orders. It doesn’t look like it, but he is paying attention to every word the older one is saying. He bites his lip, beating himself up for not knowing what could be causing you stress. 

“If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to page us,” the doctor assures and Wonwoo finally turns his attention to him. 

“Thank you so much.” He extends his arm for a handshake before letting them leave.

Wonwoo sighs before taking the seat beside your bed again. As much as he wants to go closer and maybe opt to hold your hand, he doesn’t. He just keeps his eyes on you. Your face looks so peaceful while sleeping, a small smile can’t help but form on the Prince’s face. It’s a relief that it’s nothing bad. But still, he can’t feel at ease until he sees your eyes once again. He decided to take a leave from work and stay beside you until you wake up and get discharged.

He has already informed the King and Queen of what happened and they will be here shortly. 

“Wonwoo, my dear,” the Queen greets while opening her arms to the young doctor for a quick embrace. “How are you?”

The King walked past the warm exchange, not wasting any time to be close to your bed. “How is she?”

“Your Majesty,” Wonwoo doesn’t fail to say his greetings first before going on full doctor mode. “The Princess is stable. She just needs to replenish her energy by having lots of rest and she’ll be discharged as early as tomorrow morning. Would you like me to call the doctor in charge?”

“No, no,” the Queen answers, now sitting with her husband who’s been gently cradling your cheek. “We’ll go to him ourselves. I’m just glad you are here for her Wonwoo.”

“Ever the hard worker, she is,” your father mutters a harmless complaint. “I will give her a scolding once she wakes up. Scratch that, I am going to have the Prince do that in my place. He’s the doctor after all.” Finally, the King looks at him, a glint of humor in his eyes.

Wonwoo blushes and keeps his head low. He scratches the back of his neck before firmly promising, “I will take care of her better next time, Your Majesty.”

“Nonsense,” the Queen dismisses his apologetic tone with a wave of her hand. “Everyone gets sick every day and it just so happened that it’s our Princess this time around.”

An hour after the King and Queen left, Wonwoo’s eyes grew heavy. Unbeknownst to him, his head gravitated to your bed and close to your arm. He tried to keep his eyes open, still determined on waiting until you wake up, but his determination was futile because it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep beside you. 

His face was the first thing you saw the moment you regained consciousness. The top of his head was snuggled to your arm, surprising you. At first, you couldn’t figure out what was going on. But the remembrance of the three cups of coffee you had was enough to answer the questions running in your mind. Then, the embarrassment came too soon because you also remember the look on Wonwoo’s face when he saw your agony.

You’re still not feeling well. You should probably get more sleep instead of resenting your embarrassment. You release a low groan, momentarily forgetting the sleeping Prince beside you. 

Wonwoo stirs a little before opening slowly his eyes and meeting yours. He sits up in a heartbeat and blinks his sleep away to make sure you are really awake.

After confirming, he releases the breath he had been holding. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” you whisper, completely bashful. “How long was I asleep?”

“It’s eight o’clock now,” he answers while looking at his watch. “You were asleep for the whole afternoon so approximately eight to nine hours.”

“Wow,” you mutter in sincere disbelief. “I haven’t slept that long since I started working.” 

“That’s why you’re going to sleep more.” Wonwoo stands up and fixes the blanket that’s keeping your body warm.

You frown and weakly stop his actions. “What do you mean? Am I not allowed to go home tonight?”

“Nope,” he answers and pushes your hand back down. “You’re staying overnight and that’s your doctor’s advice.”

“I don’t want to lay on this bed for 24 hours,” you whine, lips in a pout. “Can’t you give me clearance instead?”

“I’m not the doctor in charge and I am more than sure that you know that,” the Prince reminds and gently pat your head. “Go back to sleep and once morning comes, you’ll be good to go.”

Seeing that he has made a point, you give up and let your body relax on the bed in spite of your reluctance. You are smart enough to know that you can’t outsmart a doctor like him. 

Wonwoo grins in victory and makes himself comfortable on the chair. He then pulls his phone out to make a quick check on some emails and updates at the emergency room. 

That got you confused. Why is he still here? You blink suddenly realizing how he had stayed with you ever since you got admitted. You were embarrassed earlier but now you are sorry. 

“Are you not… leaving?” You ask. “I can manage alone. All I need to do is sleep this away, right?”

“Sleep Y/N,” Wonwoo commands while his eyes and hands remain focused on his phone, dodging your question. 

At the sound of your name, you roll your eyes and turn to the other side of the bed with a huff. As the days go by, you have noticed that Wonwoo can be mischievous and whenever he becomes one, it makes your cheeks blush red and heat up like wildfire. 

Wonwoo just snorts at your annoyance. He puts his phone back in his pocket and puts his attention at the back of your head as your breathing slowly even out, much needed sleep once again taking over your body. 

Wonwoo didn’t want to leave you when morning came and Jeongyeon arrived with your new set of clothes and warm meal. But he knew he had to go back to work and fulfill his sworn duty in spite of the validity of his excuse that his fiancee is sick. Other than that, but most importantly, he just wanted to see your eyes again first thing in the morning and he’d be content. 

You seemed to be exhausted still because he could hear your light snores even when the sunlight through your room was enough to indicate how late it is already in the morning. But time is ticking and he is needed at the emergency ward. So, disregarding his qualms, he took the paper bag of clothing from his friend and colleague, Soonyoung, and changed. 

Afterwards, Wonwoo picks up a thermometer and checks your temperature one last time to make sure that you don’t have any fever. All the while, oblivious to the knowing grin of your assistant.

“Please call me when she wakes up. I’d like to see her before she gets discharged,” he requests, hands busy fixing your blanket for the ninth time. 

Jeongyeon smiles, aware that there’s nothing left to fix on your bed anymore, before answering. “Will do, Your Highness.”

Finally, the Prince takes his leave but not after giving one last glance to the sleeping Princess.

Jeongyeon immediately fed you the moment you woke up. She didn’t take no for an answer, reminding you that it’s her responsibility to take care of you and that her failure to do so is equivalent to having her head beheaded (it’s not enacted anymore). 

At this point she’s now nagging you and it just falls deaf to your ears because you are indeed starving after all the sleeping. You ate every food she brought from the warm soup to the last grain of rice so fast, you looked like you were inhaling them instead of chewing properly. That made Jeongyeon scold you again reminding you that you’re about to be discharged from the hospital and she can’t have you admitted again because of indigestion this time around. 

“I am glad that you’re eating well, Your Highness,” the Royal Doctor gladly says. He’s now here to run one last check up before giving you the clearance you’ve been begging Wonwoo for last night. 

Wonwoo, you suddenly remembered. Where is he?

“Your Highness?”

“Oh yes,” you reply, waking up from your daze. “Sorry, I think I ate way too much. Please go on.”

The Royal Doctor checked your chart, frequently updated by the nurses on duty all throughout your stay. He then sits on the chair once used by the Prince to ask a few questions to make sure he’s not missing on anything. Your head still feels heavy but it’s nothing you can’t handle. He assures you that you are fine and gives you the reminders that he usually does with cases like yours. 

“That’s it.” He clasps his hands together and stands up. “You are more than free to go. Please come back next month for a check up.”

“Yes, I will,” you say and reach for his hand to shake it. “Thank you very mu-”

You couldn’t even thank your doctor properly when someone suddenly barges in through your door with a bang. You recognized him right away as head of your security detail. 

“I apologize, Your Highness,” he says, eyes on the floor. Soon, more men follow behind him. “But we have to leave the hospital and move you somewhere safer right this instant.”

Jeongyeon already knows what to do, moving quickly to help you sit up. Meanwhile, the doctor grabs the wheelchair from the small storage room and helps keep your IV stay in place as you move from the bed.

Once you’re all secured, everyone dashed out of the room.

“What the hell is going on?” You demand answers from the men surrounding you and Jeongyeon, who’s pushing the chair to the private elevator.

“There has been a commotion caused by armed men at the Emergency Room,” the head reports and upon hearing where he is talking about, your heart drops to your stomach. “The hospital’s security has it under control but we won’t be taking any chances on letting you stay here any longer, Your Highness.”

“Stop.”

Wonwoo.

[louiseleblancdiggory]

Speedy one night stand

Ok, so this is an old scene that i never posted because I never thought it was good enough, but since I wanted to post smth before ‘Tis the Damn Season, here it goes! I’m sorry for any typos, it’s 3 am and I don’t have the patience to proof read rn. There are mentions of a car accident but I swear it is not a sad or angsty scene. It’s bad and not at all a believable situation, but I hope it’s ok enough to be mildly enjoyable!

Aelin was having a spectacular day.

She had woken up around six, laying near the hottest man to ever walk on this Earth. In the previous night, she had drank enough to practically guarantee her a bitch hangover, but apparently her beautiful, silver-haired stranger had fucked it right out of her. A few times.

Not so proudly, Aelin sneaked out of his house without making a single sound. Maybe she should have stayed, maybe asked for his name. But she was also almost sure she had given him her number yesterday, and so if he wanted to continue things, he could call her. If not… Well, it had been a fun night.

Understatement of the fucking century.

And thanks to her stranger, once she got home, Aelin felt energized and inspired enough to finally give the painting a try.

The painting had become Aelin’s nightmare for the past year and a half. She had the idea, had the ability, but didn’t know how to do it, how to tackle it. She tried a few times every few days, and left the room hating it more and more. The painting started to be a mock to her abilities— she would finish other works, beautiful works, and yet the messy canvas would always stare at her from the corner of the room.

Aelin was mainly a sculptor, not a painter, and so she didn’t even know why it bothered her so much but it did. Oh, it most certainly did.

For the past eighteen months, staring at that taunting canvas was like staring at yourself on the mirror for too long. The vision started to blur, and it didn’t look real, evoked a deep panic.

For the past eighteen months, Aelin hated that fucking painting.

And yet, when she got home earlier, all she could think is that she might be able to finish it. The painting was supposed to be of Oakwald, a beautiful forest that extended for the whole expanse of the west of Terrasen. She hadn’t been at home for so long now, and all she wanted was a painting of how she remembered the forest to be. She wanted to capture its light, its life. She wanted it to look exactly how it was in her memory, but the colors never seemed right. Her fondness of the memory was becoming stained with that stupid canvas.

All she needed was the right palette.

And he had walked in a bar and sat by her side yesterday.

Her stranger was the literal embodiment of her memory, so much so that for a split second, Aelin had thought she had gone officially insane. His silver-grey hair was the exact shade of the sky on the cloudy mornings when she and her dad would go for a walk. Eyes a combination of a few shades of green and small specks of brown that reminded her of how the trees were. His demeanor was cold, and yet Aelin found him somehow so welcoming— just like she felt back at Oakwald, back home.

Her stranger had given her the thing she had needed for the past eighteen months, even if he hadn’t given her even his name.

Aelin was staring proudly at the now finished painting when the phone rang. She was glad her roommate wasn’t at home to witness her staring at the painting for that long like a crazy person, and honestly hoped it was Lysandra calling to ask if she wanted to go out and grab something to eat.

Or maybe it’s your stranger.

Aelin forced herself to shove every single spark of hope down until they were nothing more than cinders. To be honest, Aelin knew that she probably wouldn’t get a call from him. It was his first day in town, they both had been drunk, and, even though the sex had been great, her stranger didn’t seem like the dating type.

At least not the dating type with a woman who left his house unannounced at six in the morning after leaving him with no note other than her number that could potentially be wrong since said woman was already tipsy when she gave it to him.

A fucking shame.

“Hey.” Aelin said, putting the phone to her ear as she looked for her car keys. She wanted to be in the elevator by the time the word “eat” left Lys’s mouth.

“Is this Aelin?” A female voice she had never heard in her life asked, uncertainty and hesitation lacing every word.

Aelin withdrew the phone from her ear and looked at the unknown number.

Aelin rarely gave her phone number to strangers, and lately it had only been to…

Oh fucking shit.

He had a girlfriend?

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hum, yes?” Aelin sounded as uncertain as the girl. “I’m sorry, but who is this?”

Maybe it wasn’t what she thought. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe—

“Do you know a Rowan?”

Well.

“Maybe?” Aelin wanted to bang her head against a wall. Almost seven months without touching a guy, and the first one in her way back to the land of the social people had a girlfriend. At least she knew his name now. Rowan seemed fitting, matched his appearance somehow. “Silver hair, green eyes, looks really pissed even when he’s sleeping?”

Please say no.

“Oh, yes.” The woman said, sounding… relieved? “I’m doctor Towers, and—“

“Doctor?” Aelin blurted out, all anger and nervousness being substituted for confusion. “Doctor?”

“Yes. Well, actually an intern since I’m still halfway through my first year here and—“

“I swear I mean no offense, but I am a little confused.” Aelin interrupted her after she started mumbling. “You’re Rowan’s girlfriend?”

“No!” The woman shouted loud enough that Aelin had to take the phone from her ear. “Gods, no. I thought you were his girlfriend.”

A moment of silence passed through the two women.

“What the fuck?” Was everything Aelin managed to say. She cleared her throat, mind trying to catch up with what was happening. “Why would you think that?”

“You’re the only contact on his phone.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“I am.”

“You are.”

“I— Why are you calling me?” Aelin shook her head, her grip on her keys strong enough that started to be painful. She didn’t know if this was some type of joke her friends were pulling on her, or if Rowan was just some sick asshole that was fucking with her now that he had her number but she sure as hell wasn’t enjoying the experience.

“Well, you see.” She cleared her throat, voice tone becoming more serious, more professional. “Rowan was admitted into the Torre’s hospital a few hours ago. He was involved in an accident, and all the emergency contacts we could find are not in town as of now. I know it is not protocol, and I’m breaking so many rules here, but I went through his phone to see if I could find a contact of someone who was around. We didn’t know if his injuries were serious or not, but…”

Doctor Towers didn’t finish the sentence, and dread mixing with some type of anxiety started rolling inside Aelin’s stomach. “But?”

She didn’t respond the question, instead changing the subject. “You’re the only contact, Miss Aelin.”

Aelin slowly sat down, the dead silence of the apartment mixing with the expectant silence from Doctor Towers. She didn’t know the guy, didn’t even know his name until two minutes ago, and yet the image of the painting in the other room kept flashing in her mind, the colors in the canvas mixing with the colors she saw on his face. “I— Is he alive?”

“Yes, yes. He’s in surgery, I believe.” The initial apprehension came back to the woman’s voice. “I don’t know, actually. Again, just an intern. People don’t tell me much here.”

“And I suppose hiding somewhere after stealing a patient’s phone isn’t the best way to pick up on any information they might be sharing in the halls right now.” Aelin said, some amusement for the girl showing through her voice. “Where are you? Storage room?”

“Coma patient room.” Doctor Towers laughed nervously. “I thought I was helping.”

“It’s fine.” Aelin said even though she didn’t feel it.

The line went silent once more, and after a minute, Aelin said. “Well, bye, I guess.”

“Wait.” The doctor’s apprehensive voice sounded again. “Couldn’t you… Can you still come? Even if you’re just his friend?”

Aelin sat frozen on her chair. “I’m not his friend.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “Ok. Sorry. Have a great night, Miss Aelin.”

Before Aelin could respond, the call was ended.

—————

The first thing Rowan noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was not at the rented apartment he and the rest of his friends had gotten for the summer.

The lights were too white and too artificial, the bed too uncomfortable to be the same one he had slept the previous night.

And there was also the fact it felt as if he had been thrown from the top of a building, broken every single bone in the impact and, somehow, survived.

He tried opening his eyes a little bit more and acute pain shot to his brain.

Unfortunately. Unfortunately survived.

Shit, maybe he was in hell.

“I don’t know if the struggle is amusing or pathetic.” A low and sultry voice sounded from the left corner of the room. “Maybe try not staring directly into the light and then try opening your eyes.”

Rowan turned his head to where the soft voice had come from, pain burning his neck with the movement but he found himself incapable of not looking at her direction. But the woman was right, and Rowan managed to open his eyes enough to see her seating in one of those uncomfortable hospital chairs, legs crossed in front of her and fingers laced on top of her stomach.

Rowan mentally scratched his last thought. If he had actually died, that certainly was tilting a lot more towards heaven than hell even with the killing pain.

“Fuck, I think I died.” Rowan blurted out.

“I’ll pretend you just compared me to an angel, not to the devil.” She said, getting up and walking in his direction. Despite her hurt tone, she was smiling as she approached his bed. “It’s the least you could do after you ruined my perfectly perfect day. I was having a blast, you know?”

Hell, heaven, or Earth— it honestly didn’t fucking matter because the pain was the same, but her voice seemed to soothe his muscled, make the pain secondary to the pleasure of listening to her voice.

“Yeah?” Rowan rasped out, hoping she would continue talking.

“Oh, yeah.” She sat by the edge of the bed, straightening his sheets. The light wasn’t so blinding anymore, and he could see every detail on her face.

Heaven. Definitely heaven.

“I’m an artist, you know. Sculptor mostly, but I’m a decent painter. There’s this painting I’ve been trying to get done for over a year now, and today I did not only make progress I liked, but I also finished it. I thought today was going to be a terrible day, you know? Yesterday I found out my flight back home had been canceled and I would only be able to get another one by the end of summer, so I went to a bar and planned on getting drunk. Today was a day for tears and hangovers.”

“But?” Rowan asked automatically, all too focused on the woman sitting next to him.

She smiled, raising a hand to brush his hair from his face, fingers intertwining with the shoulder-length knots he most certainly had after whatever it was that had happened. She seemed too focused on her hand gently undoing the knots, but thankfully kept talking. “But I met this guy, you know? Definitely not from here, accent gave it away immediately. Also not from where I am from. Just that made him interesting enough. And,” she turned her eyes to him, eyes glinting with mischief. “Very, very fucking hot. That definitely made him even more interesting.”

“What a guy.” Rowan could feel some of the life coming back to his body, and even managed to weakly match the grin she had on her face.

“Oh, yes, what a guy. Fucked the hangover and artistic block right out of me. A hero, if you will.” Her grin extended into a smile, and she shook her head. “So imagine how ruined my day was when I got a call saying my amazing bar guy had been in a car accident.”

Rowan let out a broken laugh, his ribs screaming in pain when he did so. “So irresponsible of him.”

She assented solemnly. “And there I was, hoping he would have called me to go out on a date. I’m not picky but hospital is a huge downgrade from mind blowing sex in his expensive apartment.”

Rowan laughed again, not even caring about the pain.  “I’m sure the guy would have asked you if you hand’t left the expensive apartment at the crackass of dawn without telling him.”

“And instead of calling he let his car be smashed by a fucking truck to get my attention? Tsk, tsk, tsk… Maybe I didn’t dodge a bullet with this idiot.”

Rowan’s lips were taken by a grin. “Well it worked, didn’t it?”

“Next time try something a little less dramatic.” She said, eyes narrowing but Rowan could see how she was trying to contain a smile.

“The girl really seemed into dramatics tho. Gave it away last night when she—“

“Since I didn’t know your name until your doctor called me, Rowan, I’ll save you the embarrassment of asking mine.” She interrupted him, slender fingers going from his hair to the top of his lips. “I’m Aelin.”

“Aelin.” He said against the finger sushing him. “May I ask how you got here?”

She blushed a little, taking the finger from his mouth and straightening her spine. “I was the only contact in your list. They called me.”

“Lost my phone in the airport yesterday and had to buy a new one. Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, small nose frowning. “You’re very talkative for someone who could barely open his eyes a few minutes ago.”

“Am I?” Rowan said, hoping to push some of her buttons. Consciousness had been coming back slowly, and Rowan certainly remembered every single detail. Remembered being pissed by losing his phone, impatient because he would have to wait two more days for his friends to arrive.

Remembered all the pissy and impatience leaving his body once he sat on the bar by the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had been quick-mouthed, with no filter, and absolutely hypnotizing. She wasn’t just fucking beautiful, but also funny, smart, and had the ability to make him forget every single thing that was making him irritated.

And the rest of the night… It was a shame Rowan was bedridden, he certainly wouldn’t mind reenacting last night again.

And again. And again.

And again.

Rowan had wondered earlier if she had been that amazing because he was drunk. The answer was obviously no.

Aelin pursed her lips, red coloring her cheeks. She cleared her throat, rolling her eyes. “The doctor guilty tripped me.”

“Yeah?” Rowan knew he was smiling like an idiot.

“She said you were in surgery and she didn’t know how serious.” Aelin finally looked him straight in the eyes, and Rowan noticed how beautiful hers were. “No one deserves to have no one in this situation. She said your friends were out of town, and the girl sounded desperate enough that it sounded as if you were fucking died. Again, no one deserves to die alone. Specially someone this good in bed.”

It took Rowan a second to understand everything she had just said. When the last sentence finally registered on his brain, Rowan laughed. Aelin shook her head, a small smile appearing again.

“Also, you’re the first guy I slept with in seven months. Letting you die alone seemed like bad luck.”

“I am honored you put so much consideration into coming to stay with me.”

“Shut it.”

“If it makes you feel less embarrassed—“

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“I would have come too. Make sure my best fuck wasn’t dead.”

“Awn, best fuck? You’ll make me tear up like this, Ro. So romantic.” Aelin pretended to clean fake tears the moment the doctor in darker scrubs and a few on lighter ones entered the room.

“Good to see you awake, Mr Whitethorn.” The man smiled at him, checking his charts. “It’s always good to see wives crying of happiness rather than sadness around here.”

“Of course.” Rowan agreed, turning to Aelin and raising an eyebrow.

“They wouldn’t let me stay if I wasn’t family.” She whispered low enough so that only Rowan would hear. Her face slowly broke into a grin, and she winked at him before turning to the doctor. “So he’ll be fine, right, doctor?”

Rowan had to bite his cheeks from laughing at how obviously fake she sounded, but no one other than him noticed. “Yes, yes. Other than a fracture to his right wrist, your husband is completely fine. Some bruising and soreness that painkillers can help, but nothing major. You two are free to enjoy your vacations when he’s discharged tomorrow.”

“Oh, great.” Rowan said, nodding seriously. “My wife here has just informed me that a hospital is no adequate place for a first date.”

All the people in the room laughed, thinking Rowan meant their first date in Antica.

Not their first date ever.

“I’ll leave you two. Anything you need, ask a nurse and they will page me.” The doctor in darker scrubs said, leaving the room with all the ones in lighter scrubs following.

“Where do you live?” Rowan asked the moment the doctor was out.

Aelin turned to him, fingers going back to his silver hair. “Have been living here for the past two years in an art internship. Going back to Orynth, Terrasen by the end of the summer.” She curled a strand around her finger before looking to his face. “You?”

“Have been and will continue to be a very happy resident of Orynth.” Rowan said, a smirk appearing on his lips. “Definitely happier after the summer.”

“Haven’t even asked me out and you’re already thinking about the end of the summer.” Aelin shook her head and clicked her tongue even though she was smiling. “No surprise you got into a car accident, so speedy.”

His smirk grew into a smile. “My dear wife, would you like to go on a date with me?”

She narrowed her eyes, taking her sweet, sweet time to answer. “I’ll think about it.”

“And, seeing how the doctor talked about all my grave injuries—“

“Grave.” She snorted.

“Do I get kisses to feel better?” Rowan’s tone was full of mockery and some laughter.

“If I kiss every place you’re hurting after being hit by a fucking truck, I think we’d be here for a long while.”

“You didn’t complain yesterday.”

Aelin half laughed, half snorted. Rolling her eyes, she bent forward, and even though she was trying very hard not to, Rowan could see the start of a smile just before she pressed her lips against his. They were sweeter and softer than he remembered, and despite the pain on his arms and specially on his right wrist, Rowan raised his hands and put them in her golden strawberry hair.

“One more thing.” He said against her mouth.

“Has anyone ever told you that you ask for too much?” Aelin said impatiently.

“As our situation is already as fucking weird as it’s gonna get—“

“You don’t say!” Aelin said, voice dripping with so much fake surprise Rowan couldn’t stop but smirk up at her.

“As our situation is already as fucking weird as it’s gonna get,” he repeated forcefully, eyes narrowing at her as her smile widened. “Tomorrow, when my friends arrive.”

“Yes?”

“Can you please still pretend you’re my wife?”

Aelin stared at him blankly for a moment before letting out a full, lovely laugh. The bed shook with her laughter, and Rowan joined her— a little weakly due to the pain, but joined her nonetheless. She bent down to kiss him again, nodding as she did so. “Of course. What type of person would I be if I didn’t help such injured person find some happiness in their lives?”

Rowan kissed her back, fingers playing with her hair. “So this means you’ll go out with me?”

“We’ll see.”

.

.

.

.

.

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommessblog @yesdreamblog @superspiritfestival @ireallyshouldsleeprn @woollycat22 @julemmaes @claralady @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass @heirofthenightcourt @booksbqueen @heirofthrnightcourt004 @fromthelibraryofemilyj @rowaelinismyotp

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[adorerdraco]

Distractions and O.W.L.S ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: You start neglecting yourself and Draco when you begin stressing for O.W.L.S. The studying finally took its toll on you that landed you in the hospital wing but Draco helps you end the night on a good note. 

Warnings and Perks: being stressed, over studying, fainting ! and corniness

Words: 2K (sorry for any mistakes its 3 AM !!!!!)

A/N: omg i am currently working on some requests and on Healing Heart 4, but i’ve had this scenario stuck in my head all night bc i was listening to a slowed down version of stuff we did from UP and so i thought id share it with everyone since i havent posted in like 2 days <3 do not own gif but pretend that you and Dracoooo <3

It was the beginning of June, weeks away from O.W.L.S, which meant weeks away from another ending of a school year at Hogwarts. What bothered you the most wasn’t the fact that you had homework piled up to the ceilings, or that Snape has been snapping at you all week and took away 5 house points from you, or that you were drowning in a sea of textbooks and notes that you kept studying for your upcoming exams; it was the fact that you had barely seen Draco in nearly two weeks. You were so busy with schoolwork and focused on getting outstanding marks, you hadn’t even realized you were neglecting your own boyfriend. 

Of course, the two of you would find each other in the Great Hall during breakfast and you’d give him a quick hello and goodbye kiss faster than he could even register what was happening and by the time he did, you were already out the door and rushing towards your first class. At this point, you were acting like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland, always frantic and in a rush. Your hair was wild and untamed, you had dark bags under your eyes from the all-nighters you were pulling, your robes and clothes underneath were in disarray and wrinkled.

To make it worse, you never let Draco study with you. He constantly asked and you always gave him the same answer.

“If I study with you, I’ll never get anything done.”

Which was true. He was very distracting with his quiet jokes in the library, or when he would look up at you with his sparkling gray eyes when you would try to ask him a question that just flew from your mind at the sight, or smile at you with a wide toothy grin that lit up the room when you got sidetracked and talked to him, or the way he rested his hand on your thigh when he would sit beside you while you quietly read or wrote but the only thing you could focus on was his fiery touch. Really, it wasn’t him who would distract you; it was you who distracted yourself with him. And that was evident when you tried to remember everything you’ve learned in the past school term and came up blank because for some reason your brain only retained information and memories that contained Draco throughout the past year. 

So you figured a little time away from him wouldn’t hurt. Because if you didn’t pass these O.W.L.S, you felt like everyone would be disappointed in you, especially yourself. So you locked yourself away in your dorm and crammed and jam-packed your brain with information until you eventually passed out hunched over a book with drool blurring the ink on your pages. You avoided the library for studying, knowing Draco would go looking for you or Madam Pince would distract you halfway through your note taking to kick you out for the night.

Mornings always came the same, you waking up randomly over your desk a few minutes before breakfast and changing into a new pair of robes as quickly as you could while trying your best to smooth your hair down with your hands. This morning was different, however. You woke up to one of your roommates shaking you violently while she spoke your name loudly above you, but it sounded distant. You shot up in a hot flash, wiping your mouth of any saliva and groaning when you started to feel the pounding in your head that seemed to shake up your whole brain. “Thank Merlin, you’re awake!” Your roommate exclaimed in relief. “You looked dead, honestly. But class is starting in twenty and you’ve missed breakfast.”

“Twenty?” you frown, letting your swelling head fall into your hands. “I don’t want to deal with Snape right now, I feel awful.”

“I’m going to try to say this as nice as possible,” she sighs, placing a hand on your shoulder, “but it shows.”

“Thanks,” you scowl. You try to get up from your chair but gasp in pain as your muscles cramp at the movement like a rickety old man. 

“Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” she suggests, trying to help you up but you shoo her. 

“No, I’m fine,” you rush to interject. “I will not be missing Potions, no.”

She gave you a shrug, backing away in defeat as she let you rush to change into new robes and attempt to brush down the matted mess that’s supposed to be your hair but gave up halfway through and threw it into an updo. The headache was not a good combination with the scalp pain from combing out knots. Your roommate waited for you with pitied eyes, following closely behind you as you hurried out of the room and towards the exit. 

You sped walked out with her but didn’t see the mop of platinum blond that was waiting for you outside the entrance of the common room. You had zero awareness of his presence until his hand had reached out to hold onto your wrist, stopping your near sprint towards the class. Your roommate stopped too, eyeing the two of you and the look on the Slytherin’s face before she continued walking. 

“What? Draco, let go,” you move away from him and he quickly drops your arm. “I’m going to be late.”

You began to walk away from him, but he stepped in front of you, stopping you again.

“Why weren’t you at breakfast?”

“I overslept,” you answered gruffly. “Now, move! If I’m late, Snape will have my head on a stick.”

“Y/N, you need to slow down,” he frowns, “all this studying and rushing around everywhere is going to land you in the hospital wing. You look sick already, I’m worried.”

“I’m not sick!” You huff, throwing your head back in irritation. “If you really cared about me, you’d let me go to class instead of insulting me.”

“I’m not insulting you. Am I so terrible to tell you that you look like you’re about to pass out any second?”

“Yes, you are terrible,” you sneer, the pounding in your head was getting stronger each passing second. “Instead of-”

Your train of thought was violently stopped in its angry tracks, you stumble back and begin blinking hard at the spots that quickly started to dot your vision. Your hand instinctively reached out towards Draco, which he grabbed and hurriedly darted forward towards you, gripping onto you before you could meet the ground, your vision going black and your consciousness out the door.

Draco felt himself begin to panic. He promptly began to feel guilty, feeling like it was his fault that you even fainted in the first place because of the argument he had accidentally started.

He gathered you up in his arms, one arm sliding under your knees and the other under your neck as he swiftly picked you up and began his frantic journey towards the hospital wing.

When he got you to Madam Pomfrey, she instructed him to set you down on one of the beds and kicked him out of the room while she started her treatment. His heart was beating so fast, he wanted nothing more than to stay by your side so he halfheartedly threatened her with his father and she ended up letting him stay with a deep sigh while he stood idly by your bed. When Madam Pomfrey was done, she left the two of you alone. Draco wasted no time in sitting at the foot of your bed, his hand finding its way into your cold one that laid limply beside you. He watched your sleeping figure with a relief as he noticed that whatever Pomfrey gave you had speedily began to affect you. Your skin no longer looked ghastly and dull, but healthy again and tinged with pink. The dark circles underneath your eyes had faded just a little bit, leaving only slight bags as you finally slept. 

He waited maybe 12 hours for you to wake up. After missing his first class, he had decided to go to the rest of his classes as Madam Pomfrey swore to him up and down that you would not wake up any earlier. He begrudgingly obliged and skipped all his meals instead to spend his short free time with you. When his final class ended, he almost ran back to the hospital wing. He occupied the rest of his time with a book he had found thrown somewhere around the room. The book was long forgotten the second he felt your hand twitch and your body begin to stir, your tired e/c’s looking around the room in confusion before landing on him. He scooted himself closer to you, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face as he looked at you with pure concern. It was the same look he had when he confronted you earlier and with that one look, you were able to recall everything that had happened before your collapse.

“I’m sorry I said you’re terrible,” you croak out sadly, your hand wrapping around his wrist and squeezing it gently.

“I’m sorry I made you faint,” he says. “How are you feeling?”

“That was my own fault,” you chortle, “but I feel really good. I know I fainted and all, but I feel much better with whatever Madam Pomfrey gave me.”

“I can tell,” he smiles, moving himself a little back as you sat up with a newfound strength. “She said you can leave when you wake up.”

“Good, now help me out of this bed.”

Draco took your hand and you hopped out of bed excitedly, turning towards him and giving him a tight hug that he returned twice as hard.

“If you’re not too tired, can I show you something?” He asks from above you, his arms still wrapped strongly around you.

“Yes, please,” you answer with a nod against his chest.

Draco steps away from you before taking your hand and walking the two of you out of the hospital wing and towards the stairs that led to the astronomy tower. When you reached the top, huffing, and puffing, he asked you again if you were okay to which you answered with an eager nod.

"Tonight is a blood moon,” he smiles, pointing up towards the very large orange and reddish moon in the starry night sky. It shone brightly but still gave off little light in its wake, the astronomy tower was almost dark, but you still managed to see the blond perfectly, he was watching you with a happy and loving glint in his eyes that you were able to notice. “I was planning on asking you to see it with me tonight, but we kind of ended up elsewhere.”

You threw yourself into his arms, your face buried deep in his robes and the heat radiating off his chest warmed you up in the comfiest way.

“You’re the best, Dray,” you mumble into the cloth of his robes, the clothing vibrating underneath you as he chuckled. You pulled away and gazed up at him, smiling when he placed a kiss on your forehead.

The two of you unknowingly began to sway back in forth in each other’s arms, his hands resting on your lower back while yours were looped loosely around the back of his neck.

“You scared me today,” he begins quietly, “and every day since you’ve started your studying.”

“I know,” you frown, “I’m sorry.”

“Promise me you’ll stop overworking yourself,” he says softly. “I know you’re scared you’ll fail, but I promise you won’t. You’re one of the smartest people I know and I know you’ll get outstanding marks on everything.”

“You think so?” you ask hopefully, your eyes trained on the burnt orange moon as you took in his words.

“I know so.”

A few more minutes of silence pass by, your head now leaning against his chest as the two of you still danced silently. And as if he read your mind, Draco began humming a soft and off-pitch rendition of Claire de Lune. You would laugh every time he forgot a note and would go silent for a moment before backtracking and humming it correctly.

You don’t know how long the two of you stayed up there dancing slowly in each other’s arms with Draco trying his best to hum the top classics of the classical’s, his lips finding yours every now and then to kiss you longingly and tenderly, but one thing was for sure; it was bliss. 

Maybe distracting yourself with Draco wasn’t such a bad thing.

[whump-a-la-mode]

Villainsicle | Part 13

I know it’s been a while, and if I’m being completely honest, I really ran out of steam on this story for a while. But, we’re back! If you’re new to my blog and are interested in this story, all of the parts up to this one can be found linked in my pinned info post.

Thank you guys so much for all your support of this series so far! I hope you enjoy this part, too!

Taglist:

@whatwhumpcomments

@sola-whumping

@professional-idiocy

@trappedgoose-in-a-writblr-room

@literally-just-kirby​

@the-polari-person

@teachunks

@daydreamed-snippets-2nd-blog

@sunflower1000

@lightdrinker-blog

@regalwritten

CW//Mentions of bathing, restraints, drugs, dehumanization, conspiracies, collars, talk of diseases, talk of falling, Stockholm syndrome, affectionate caretaker, conditioned whumpee

After their bath, Villain rested.

It wasn’t exactly how Counselor had imagined the whole affair going. Villain had already spent so many days resting, laid up in that same bed, but once they were clean and settled into fresh clothes, they had requested nothing except to be able to return to sleep.

They supposed it wasn’t entirely unexpected. While the bath hadn’t exactly been physically exerting, there had been several instances during it that Villain had nearly burst out in tears. Whatever was going through their mind, it was undeniably intense-- and that wasn’t even mentioning the heavy dose of sedatives coursing through their system.

And, thus, Villain slept. They were unconscious almost immediately upon hitting the mattress.

This time, however, there was no nervous twitching to accompany their unconsciousness. Instead, for the first time, their face showed a perfectly placid expression.

Taking care not to wake the sleeping patient, Counselor draped a fleece blanket overtop of them, tucking its edges in around their shoulders. They twitched, but did not awake. A moment later, they buried their face in the fabric.

Counselor had never before imagined that Villain was even capable of existing in such a calm state. Yet, here they were, looking for all the world as though not even an earthquake could wake them up.

Their gaze flicked to the bedrails. Upon returning to their bed, Villain had not so much as seemed to note the leather-and-foam restraints hanging there.

Yet, Counselor could not draw their gaze away from them.

Villain had been staying in the base for weeks, phasing through various states of aggression and fear and sickness and, on rare occasions, hesitant happiness. But, even after all that time, no one truly knew anything about them.

At least, Counselor knew nothing about them. Based on the way Leader and Medic’s expressions twisted when the prisoner was mentioned, it was clear that the both of them knew more than they were letting on-- but neither was keen to admit as to such.

Maybe Hero had had more luck on this information gathering mission.

But how much information was there really to gather? Officially, Villain had simply appeared on stage a few months ago, alongside two unknowns. More or less, they had acted just as any other villain did.

The other villains, however, had motives. Backstories. They were following orders.

Villain... If anyone on the outside cared about them, they had yet to risk any sort of jailbreak.

There was more to this than the official story, Counselor knew that full well. How much more... as to that, they had no idea.

But they had no need to rely on second hand accounts and official reports to know what Villain was. That much was obvious. They were a villain. Whatever their backstory, whatever their past, they were dangerous.

Right?

Counselor’s gaze drifted back to those restraints. Those simple straps, dangling from a metal bedframe.

At some point, Villain may have been dangerous. But not right now. Right now, they needed help, and that was exactly what Counselor was going to give them.

And, if they wanted that plan to go anywhere, they would have to start with the doctor who harmed their own patient.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

This time, when Medic answered the knocking on their door, their glasses were on the right way around. They blinked a few times, rubbing their eyes, hardly noting as the piping hot cup of coffee was pushed into their hands.

The doctor glanced down at the beverage before looking back up to meet their visitor’s gaze.

“I thought you wanted me to sleep.”

“Well, that was before. For now, we need to talk.”

“If this is decaf again, I swear I’m going to strangle you.”

“It’s not. Though the same threat applies to you if you try to go back to the med bay.”

“I’m a doctor. In fact, I’m our only doctor.”

“I’m a doctor, too.”

“Psychology doesn’t count.”

“Fair enough.”

“If we’re done threatening each other, then, would you care to, I don’t know, tell me why you’re bothering me?”

“As I said, we need to talk.”

“Do I even need to ask what about?”

“I think you already know that. Come on. You have your coffee, so there’s no excuses.”

“You really think I’m going to be that penitent about this?”

“Maybe.”

Medic rolled their eyes, but did not protest any further as Counselor turned and walked off. The two moved to a rather isolated table, tucked away in the corner of a hallway. The cafeteria was far too crowded at the moment to host such a discussion.

On opposite sides of the table, the opposites sat. Two cups of coffee clinked down on the wooden surface.

Counselor took a sip of their drink, placing the cup back down and raising their gaze. Medic frowned, lips turning downwards even further than usual.

“What, are we planning on talking through telepathy or- Come on, Counselor, stop looking at me like that. I hate that.”

“Then are you going to say anything?”

“I can’t read your mind.”

“You said you knew what this was about.”

“Maybe.” Medic shrugged dismissively. The doctor had been horribly standoffish, ever since Villain had been captured. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to start trying to guess your thoughts.”

Counselor took another sip.

“Fine, then. I can start.” Sip. Clink. “Villain told me something very interesting, earlier.”

“You really believe them?”

“I haven’t even said it yet.”

“Then stop wasting time, maybe.”

“Villain says that you’re making them sick.”

Medic’s brows furrowed.

“That’s what they said?”

“Pretty much verbatim, yes.”

“Well.” Medic took a hesitant drink of their coffee. “I don’t know why you’re even wasting your time on a notion like that. What they are is paranoid. I don’t doubt that they think I’m making them sick. Doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“You’re saying that your patient is lying.”

“Maybe not lying. That would imply that they know what they’re saying is not true. They are sick, I will not deny that. And they are not responding to treatment. I can’t say that anything I’ve tried so far has made it any better, but it certainly hasn’t made it worse.”

“Why would they believe such a thing without reason?”

Medic exhaled.

“Because, in Villain’s mind, they do have reason. They have a child’s understanding of medicine. They are sick, and they are under my care and taking my medicines, and thus, in their mind, one of these things has caused the other.”

Counselor cast their gaze downwards, focusing on the way their milk danced its way through the black beverage before them. It was a reasonable explanation. Maybe. They may not have trusted Medic, but they trusted Medic’s abilities as a doctor.

Could Villain really be wrong?

“If they’re wrong...” Counselor began again. “Then what is making them sick? Their incident with hypothermia was weeks ago, now. It can’t still be that?”

“I doubt the two are connected. If this was all a matter of post-hypothermic reactions, then we wouldn’t be seeing these kinds of symptoms.”

“What is it, then?”

Medic bit their bottom lip.

“That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? They’ve been in your care for... well over a week, now.”

“You think I don’t know that? If you haven’t noticed, I’m the world’s leading expert on Enhanced biology. Not to mention, y’know, an experienced doctor for normal humans. Whatever this is, it’s not a normal sickness. I’ve done every test I can think of.”

“And... it’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“Not as badly as you might be fearing. Their weakness is worsening, yes, as is their general mental state. But their vitals are fine. They’re not in serious danger of anything, so long as they don’t hurt themself.”

“You think they’d do that?”

“Given just how bad their confusion has been getting? I’m already putting preventative measures in place.”

“Oh.”

Medic raised a brow.

“You thought I restrained them for no reason? I’m not Leader. There are medical regulations about this sort of thing.”

“They’ve been hurting themself?”

“Not what you may be thinking of. But with how bad their weakness has grown, they can’t exactly stand up without aid, at the current moment. Forget walking. Unfortunately, they don’t seem to have realized this.”

“They’ve fallen?”

“A few times, yes. If that is all, I was really just starting to enjoy my day off, so-”

“Wait.” Counselor shook their head. “People don’t get sick for no reason.”

“Congrats, you know a basic medical fact.”

“You know what I mean. You’re the smartest person I know. You must have, I don’t know, a theory? A hypothesis? Anything?”

Medic blinked, placing down their cup.

“I do. Though right now, I have no way of proving it.”

“What is it?”

“Villain has what we call... psionic powers. Powers that affect only a person’s brain, but not their physical body. It’s the rarest type of power, oftentimes because something you can’t see is often something you can’t detect. Thus, this group of powers is poorly understood, to say the least. But I’m sure you know what power fatigue looks like for other Enhanced.”

“Like when Hero broke their leg?” Counselor guessed.

“Yes. The simple act of overexerting ones powers, even without outside injury, can cause physical injuries like that to develop.”

“You think Villain’s having power fatigue?”

“It’s my best guess. It would check all the boxes. An undetectable illness affecting the brain, but nothing else. A never before seen condition.”

“But... is it something you can cure?”

“I can’t cure tiredness.” Medic shook their head. “That’s really not how it works. I can do my best to counteract the symptoms, but so long as the source is still there, I’d be fighting uphill.”

“Then what can you do?”

“I can remove the source.” The tiniest smirk crept onto the doctor’s countenance. “Power fatigue is caused not by using ones powers, but using them in a way that the body cannot handle. At least, as far as we can tell. If Villain can control their powers enough, their symptoms should go away.”

“You really think so?”

“I hesitate to guarantee anything. Not with how poorly understood the condition is.” That smirk fell, replaced by Medic’s resting expression of annoyance. “But training them to use their powers properly is the only way I can see them getting any better.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m also sure that I would really like to go back to my quarters. If you’re done bothering me?”

Counselor bit their tongue.

“Fine.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Counselor had momentarily considered returning to their own quarters, but had quickly decided against it, instead turning to the kitchen. They had yet to eat that morning, as had Villain. They figured that a warm meal might help them shake off the sedatives.

And, maybe, some food would make Counselor’s own stomach stop twisting.

They only made it halfway to the kitchen, however, when in the hallway, they nearly slammed into Hero. The two both yelped, and a slosh of Counselor’s coffee slopped to the floor.

“Shit, sorry, are you okay?” Hero asked. There was considerable nerve in their voice.

Counselor nodded. “You just started me, ‘s all.” They glanced down at the spilling coffee now sitting on the tile floor. “I’ll, uh, get that later. I was just heading to the kitchen.”

“Oh. Um, could it wait?”

“I need to bring Villain something to eat.”

“Can it wait?”

“What-”

Counselor’s gaze drifted to Hero’s twitching hand.

“You have something?”

“Mhm. I don’t think it’s going to take very long.”

“Can I see?”

“Not here. Not with everyone else around.”

Counselor raised their brows quizzically, but nodded.

“To your quarters, then?”

“I guess that’s as good of a place as any.”

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As soon as Counselor was out of sight, Medic changed their trajectory.

The musty air that filled their lab acted on them like a drug, sending a calm shiver down their spine. If they had the day off (or if they were being forced to take it off), there was no way they were going to spend that precious little free time moping in their quarters. Not when they could be here.

They sat, the memory foam of their desk chair still molded to their form. The laptop before them booted up with a familiar chirp and bright pink screensaver, written upon in white text:

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.” 

The grainy selection of videos blinked before them, and they selected the next one in the series. Even if they didn’t have access to their Asset at the current moment, they could at the very least work ahead.

The screen fizzled to life in all its low-definition glory, displaying a familiar room, its walls plastered with protective black rubber, and its tile floor made of the same material.

The presenter wore a bandage on their face, covering the side of their jaw. The gauze warped as they smiled, but they seemed to make no note of it.

Beside them, the presenter’s own Asset stood. The muzzle around their face had been modified, its metal warped as to compress its wearer’s jaw, to the point that even breathing was an impossibility.

Extreme, perhaps, but based on the Asset’s behavior, it was warranted.

Though their movements were weak and unbalanced, they were persistent, not ceasing yanking against their leash for the slightest moment. This time, unlike before, the presenter seemed to be paying attention to them, though they did not seem worried.

“It has been some time since we last spoke.” They began. “I apologize for the delay, but, hopefully, it will not happen again. After all, training our Assets is a full time job.”

A smile. Cheerful, stretching their cheeks.

“Unfortunately, I must report that the recent delay we experienced was as a result of my own Asset lashing out. This was unfortunate, but it made me realize that there is a flaw in my training methods. A flaw I seek to instruct you, today, on how to remedy.

One advantage we trainers have is that we have 24/7 access to our Assets. As we take care of them, we can choose to meet their needs in whatever way we see fit.

Deprivation has always been a part of Asset training, since we pioneered our methods. But it was something I, unfortunately and unwisely, neglected. And I have done you all a disservice by not mentioning it to you.

In order for training to truly take effect, there must be room in an Asset’s mind for it to fit. A reason for them to follow. Fear, certainly, is this reason, but there are other aspects to control.

Following my Asset’s incident, we have been working using these methods of deprivation. Depriving your Asset of things such as nutrients, water, and sleep can significantly speed up and solidify your training. In this lesson, we will go over this, and how it can help you improve your training methods.”

The presenter’s smile was matched by their Asset’s wicked snarl. From the corners of their mouth, licks of flame emerged, just for the slightest moment.

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Hero handled the flash drive as though it were a bomb.

Perhaps it was, if the writing on the device was at all to be believed. Scrawled on in sharpie, a hastily written yet well received warning.

“Property of Organization. Unauthorized Use Is Unlawful.” 

As if Organization cared about the law.

Hero seated themself in their office chair, leaving Counselor to sit a few feet back, on their bed. They almost flinched, plugging the flashdrive into their laptop.

For a moment, the computer hummed, before it reported chipperly that new files had been added.

“Uh, Hero?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you get this thing?”

“Leader gave it to me.”

“Did they say what it was.”

Hero shook their head. “That’s what we’re about to find out.”

Still moving terribly nervously, Hero opened the folder that the computer had created for these ‘new files.’

“It’s... videos.”

“Videos?”

“A couple of them, yeah.”

“Should we... play them?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. I mean, if Organization is involved, I’m not sure I want to know what’s on them.”

“It could help Villain.”

Hero sighed, dipping their head.

“I hate when you’re right.”

With deft fingers, they selected the first video.

It had been so long, since any of them had seen Traitor. More than that, it had been so long since any of them had seen Traitor smile.

And yet, that was what they were doing. Grinning, ear to ear, eyes locked upon the camera.

“Hello, everyone, and welcome to the second edition of the Asset Training Video Course. If you are confused, the first edition of this series was, unfortunately, cut short due to... an incident. We will all miss our last presenter, but that does not mean that our duties can be shirked.”

Traitor turned, looking offscreen, calling:

“Veni huc.”

The language the words were in was clearly not English, but the person who moved on-screen did not seem concerned by that fact.

Villain smiled as well, though their warm gaze had an inquisitive quality to it as they regarded the camera. A chain-link collar was arranged about their neck, but it was attached to nothing, and seemed to more or less hang limply.

“For this series, I will be demonstrating all you need to know about Asset training. This, here, is my own Asset, Cadet. As you can tell, they are very well trained, if I do say so myself. They will be helping me show you how to train your own assigned Asset.”

Traitor’s hand reached for Villain, who did not flinch a moment. Their hand ruffled Villain’s hair affectionately.

Villain smiled, and leaned into the touch.

[fanmoose12]

Levi ignored the formal greetings and salutes of the soldiers he passed as he made his way through the barracks. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. He had to get to the infirmary.

Apparently, Hange had decided to start her experiments bright and early that day. So early that the sun had barely begun to rise. Not long after, a titan's arm broke free from its restraints and swung at Hange while her back was facing away. With no time to react, the full force of the attack had her instantly flying through the air and only stopping when her body met a wall. Levi didn't comprehend much of the details after that. He simply threw on his uniform as is, not bothering a second glance in the mirror.

He bit back a chill as he entered the courtyard, not knowing whether it was from the sudden cold winter air or from his own nerves. It was only then that he realized he had left without throwing on a coat.

When he entered the infirmary, he immediately noticed a small group of people huddled together. Hange's squad, Mike, Nanaba, and Erwin along with a nurse Levi didn't recognize. They all spoke in hushed whispers and, as if on cue, all turned to look at him. His pace suddenly slowed, an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of his stomach at their ominous gazes. He hesitated to approach.

After a moment, Erwin resumed speaking to the nurse and exchanged a few more words before she finally walked away. Erwin then dismissed the rest of the group as they shuffled away, avoiding eye contact as they passed Levi.

Levi swallowed the lump that formed in his throat and approached Erwin. "How's Hange?" He asked, hoping the tremor in his voice wasn't obvious.

"Levi," Erwin began, his voice stern and his jaw tight. "How long have you known about Hange's condition?"

"Just this morning." He answered.

Erwin's brow furrowed and Levi could see the wrinkles in his face. "I will ask again. How long have you known about Hange's condition?"

The question was puzzling. What kind of answer was Erwin looking for? Levi felt like a child being chastised. He was coming in blind to this whole situation, only knowing the information that Moblit had told him earlier.

"Moblit came by my room about twenty minutes ago and told me about the accident. I came as fast as I could."

Erwin's eyes stared intently at Levi, as if he was trying to look through him instead of at him. It was then that Levi noticed the small beads of sweat lining his forehead.

Levi's heart rate quickened. Something wasn't right. "Erwin, what the hell is going on?"

What was Erwin trying to get out of him? What did he know that Levi didn't? Was Hange sick? Surely he would've noticed, right? Then again, they hadn't seen much of each other recently. Hange had been busy testing a new theory involving the evaporation of titan blood and Levi had been assigned to oversee the development of the new training grounds.

She and Levi had grown close. Immensely close. Too close for Levi's comfort sometimes. They had become a bonded pair in all forms; emotionally, physically, and mentally. They knew each other's strengths and short-comings, their pet peeves and bad habits, their fears and hopes, the way each other tasted and smelled, how their bodies felt intertwined, the rhythm of each other's heartbeats. Hange had become the one thing Levi never wanted; someone to lose.

As if Erwin could sense his inner turmoil, his shoulders dropped and his eyes relaxed. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Nobody's told me a damn thing."

Erwin released a tired sigh. "Hange is alive but she suffered a concussion. The nurse wants to keep her here for a few days to monitor her once she wakes up."

"How long has she been unconscious?"

"I'm not sure but this could have been much worse. In more ways than you realize."

Levi could feel his frustration reaching its peak. "Why not just come out and tell me whatever the hell it is you're hiding?"

Erwin just shook his head. "It's not for me to tell. We'll continue this at a later time. You may see her if you'd like."

Levi decided not to further the discussion and made his way towards the room. Once his hand had reached the doorknob, he heard Erwin's voice behind him. "Levi, once you're finished, meet me in my office. We have much to discuss."

Levi's hand tightened around the doorknob. He didn't like being left in the dark but he was humanity's strongest, surely he could handle whatever news Erwin was refusing to disclose.

He shook the thought from his mind, wanting to be solely focused on Hange. He readied himself for the sight and pushed open the door.

Hange appeared natural as she slept in the hospital bed before him. Her expression was peaceful with the usual stress lines in her face relaxed. Her glasses rested on a table next to the bed with her uniform and winter coat thrown over a wooden chair. She had been changed into a hospital gown with a white bandage wrapped around her head.

"That was an extreme stunt to pull just to get some sleep don't you think, four eyes?" Levi mused.

He examined the bandage and noticed a minimal amount of blood from a scrape on the side of her head. He wasn't sure what the worry was about. Concussions were a normal injury for most soldiers, especially new recruits who were practicing with their ODM gear.

Still, Erwin had mentioned her "condition" which meant there was something Levi was missing, something he wasn't seeing.

"Sorry about this, Hange." He said as he grabbed the blanket on top of her and tossed it to the side.

Before the blanket had even touched the ground, Levi had stumbled away from Hange's bedside until his back was forced against the wall. His heart beat hard against his chest, he struggled to catch his breath and felt as if he was suffocating, his knees trembled beneath him, and his mind could not comprehend the sight before him.

Levi looked around the room as if an explanation would appear before him. He couldn't bring himself to look at her again. He was almost thankful that she was asleep.

The sight of her winter coat suddenly drew his attention. Like most things, Hange was too engrossed in her research and often careless when it came to her own health. Levi would often find her outside in the snow, watching over her precious titans, wearing nothing more than her usual brown jacket. She never bundled herself properly and always claimed she felt fine despite the obvious signs of her red nose, chapped lips, chattering teeth, and shivering body. And as expected, Levi would be the one to have to care for her when she fell ill.

Although, come to think of it, this was the first year that Hange had actually been adamant about wearing her coat. Each time Levi saw her, she had it buttoned around her, refusing to take it off even when indoors. And if he thought about it further, he realized that it always looked a size too big for her.

The realization suddenly came crashing on him as all the pieces fell into place. The air felt as if it had been knocked out of him and his head was spinning. If it weren't for the wall supporting him, he's sure he would have collapsed.

It didn't feel real. It couldn't be real.

It was stupid, he knew, the evidence was right in front of him but he just had to confirm it for himself. He looked towards her still sleeping face and then very slowly trailed his eyes down her body until he was staring at a small bump on her torso.

He steadied his knees and pushed himself away from the wall. It felt like an eternity before he was finally able to move his legs and reach her bed side. With a shaky hand and a deep ragged breath, he outstretched his arm until it rested gently on her swollen abdomen. He ignored the water stinging the corner of his eyes and forcefully blinked the sensation away.

It was as if his mind was not his own as he began to slowly stroke small circles on top of her belly. As he was getting used to the feeling, he felt a sudden pressure hit against his head. He immediately froze his movements and waited. A few seconds passed and there it was again, a small push to his hand.

He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and could feel his lips curve into a smile. He was feeling a kick. The being inside of Hange was making it self known to him.

He became overwhelmed with an abundance of conflicting emotions bombarding him all at once. He had so many thoughts, questions, ideas, fears. At that moment all he could do was reach for her hand and relish in the comfort of her warmth beneath his palm. He needed her here with him.

And then a new realization chilled him to his core.

She would eventually awaken...wouldn't she?

"Hange." He whispered desperately. "Please, wake up."

omg, you got me so worried!! i thought hange lost the baby, but whew! i'm so glad the baby is alright! and your writing is top notch! if you ever think of posting it and maybe adding a second part...... hmu?