#I'm not going to sleep for 16 days straight when I start working on that...

[solradguy]

Got the new extrusion gears installed in the Ender and the whole thing recalibrated. It prints buttery smooth now.

[kkarmiic]

hey hello! i'm not sure if you have witten anything like this but could you do headcanons for the demon bros with an extremely affectionate reader? like, the reader is super touchy with everyone they're close to like they need to be touching someone at all times. it can be platonic or romantic! also, would you mind doing he/him pronouns? thanks! -⭐

#’ DEMON BROS WITH AN AFFECTIONATE GN!READER

🫐’ CONTENT AND WARNINGS

\\ synopsis: hcs of the brothers reacting to an extremely affectionate gn!reader

‘+ genre: fluff

*# warnings: lesson 16 mentions in belphies part.

// authors note: there didn’t end up being any pronoun usage at all so it ended up being GN!READER

#’ LUCIFER

Since you wouldn’t be comfortable touching them (assumably) before you’re close to them, by the time your hyper affectionate nature shows you’re pretty close.

The first time it happens, Lucifer has been working for hours without any breaks and you started to feel a little more touched deprived than usual.

You end up sneaking into his study, hands clasped at your sides.

He perks his head up, assuming you were his brother and ready to tell them to go away, until he saw it was you.

“Mc?” He asks, placing down his pen.

You asked for a hug, and ofcourse he obliged.

Oh. Oh.

His arms were so warm, his grip so tight and you couldn’t help but melt into his warm embrace.

You missed the affection, you got more in the human world and you hadn’t had a hug like this in so long.

The hug lasts longer than anticipated, both of you refusing to let go, and when you do, you swear you can see the faint tint of pink brushing over his cheeks.

Since that day, you couldn’t get enough, and in all honesty, even despite his efforts to conceal it, he couldn’t either.

Lucifer is a very touched starved man, nobody gives him affection (save for diavolo)

You’d walk downstairs, ready for breakfast and press a gentle kiss against his cheek.

Ofcourse he’s very taken aback.

He secretly loves it, will tell you so in private.

But not in-front of his brothers.

You’d drag him to bed after long study sessions, be practically glued to his side, he couldn’t shake you off even if he tried.

And he doesn’t want to.

#’ MAMMON

He’d definitely be more laid back about it, but becomes a blushing stuttering mess the moment you touch him.

“Ofcourse you’d want to touch the great mammon!”

Something along those lines.

However, his greed doesn’t just encompass money, it also extends to your affection.

You’re giving one of his brothers a hug? Why would you do that when he’s right there?!

I was going to say that would be a sin; but…

The first time you hug him, one late night out, you’re so tired, eyes heavy and just wanting to fall straight to sleep.

In your drowsy haze, you lean forward and press your head into him, mumbling something about being tired.

His heart is going crazy.

Shaky hands wrap around you, a slight grin forming on his face.

Why does his chest feel so warm? Why is there butterflies in his stomach?

I mentioned peeling you off lucifer, good luck peeling mammon off of you.

He will steal random kisses (either platonically or romantically) from you, pecks when you’re cooking, when you’re getting ready, when you’re eating when-

The brothers are sick of you two.

You’re so affectionate all the time it makes them sick (light heartedly ofcourse)

#’ LEVIATHAN

He’s probably the most bashful about affection.

You’re binging an anime with him one day when you lay your head onto his shoulder, and you can feel his whole body become tense beneath you.

His eyes go wide and just a little bit frantic, and instead of his attention being on the screen, it’s now on you, and you laying on his shoulder

His heart is going to race out of his chest.

Can you hear it? Oh god what if you can hear his heart going crazy?

He is sweating and stressing.

He will eventually get more used to it, but he’s just as, if not more, touched starved than lucifer.

Cuddles in the bathtub?

Cuddles in the bathtub.

Begs Lucifer to let you be home educated with him.

That’s not going to happen I’m sorry.

Please tackle him as soon as you get home from school.

He can die a happy man in your arms.

He’s still a mess around you, don’t get me wrong.

But he makes sure you don’t need to go to anyone else for affection.

#’ SATAN

I feel like he’d be one of the most cool and collected about it all (unlike the messes above)

I do however think he’d be one of the most touch starved brothers.

He doesn’t have any interest in people, and even though he doesn’t necessarily have a need for affection.

However when you begin showing him affection, he does realise how touch starved he is.

He’s reading to you one night, you’re curled up next t him when you lay your head on his chest.

A smile tugs on his lips and he wraps his arms around you, continuing to read, but this time has a hand running circles on your back.

He prefers small affection displays, like a hand around the waist (either his or yours), or kisses as a greeting.

But since you’re hyper affectionate, you probably want to be holding hands, or curled up to him at all times (or vice versa)

He definitely likes laying in between your thighs while he reads, it’s just so… warm and relaxing.

I don’t think it’d ever be too much for him.

He just enjoys the simple things in life, and even though you’re far from simple, it’s simple affection and that’s what matters.

#’ ASMODEUS

I’m so sorry but you’d be the annoying ‘couple’ at RAD.

You know the ones who are constantly blocking the halls because they’re holding hands or kissing?

Yeah.

He’s also super affectionate, and loves when you’re affectionate with him.

It’s his favourite thing.

He definitely likes linking pinkies with you.

Cuddle with him in his soft bed!

The mattress and covers are ridiculously nice.

You’re about to sleep for a whole century in that.

He also likes indirect affectionate. Like you doing his makeup, or painting his nails (or vice versa).

You’re close enough to touch, even if only slightly.

It’s oddly calming for him.

He also really likes sharing baths with you.

The really aesthetic bubble baths with roses you see on Pinterest?

Those.

He washes your back for you and your hair.

Gives you scalp massages and back rubs.

He’s really good with affection.

#’ BELPHEGOR

This is a match made in… hell? (Positive)

You, hyper affectionate.

Belphie who sleeps all day and has been looking for a new cuddle partner.

You’re his pillow now.

You’re studying? Sorry. No, you’re coming to his bed so he can lay on you and fall asleep.

Cooking? Someone take over he wants to cuddle.

Movie nights? He’s beside you, cuddling you.

It’s also his way for making up for… everything.

It’s sad but it’s his own miniature way of dealing with it.

He doesn’t really have the energy to pepper you in kisses like the other brothers, but still.

He’s the best cuddle partner.

Belphies bed is so soft, best for sleeping. Mountains of pillows and warm fuzzy blankets.

I also headcanon he has a weighted blanket, even though he can sleep well without it it’s still nice to have.

#’ BEELZEBUB

He likes to carry you.

No matter your weight, height etc.

He will find a way to carry you, this man is STRONG.

When you first cuddle him, you’re watching a TV show together, he’s DEVOURING a big bucket of popcorn and you just put your head into his lap.

He pauses for a moment before he starts playing with your hair.

Oh he’s a cuddle bug too.

He really loves affection as-well, he just goes with what you want, and he’s comfortable with whatever.

He will let you know if you push his boundaries, but I really doubt it.

Expect to be carried around the halls of RAD.

He also does this odd thing when you’re cuddling he will take nips (albeit affectionate) out of your hands, arms and thighs.

He really appreciates the way you show your love for people, it makes him feel valued.

[savventeen]

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n �� [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

[effy-writes]

Fizz x Fem! Reader: Happy Day

requested from my friend :D

You and Fizz grew up together, but not in the circus. You were always in the audience and grew fond of him. He always noticed you, and ever since you became a regular he would search for you in the audience.

About age 7 he came up to you after the show and started talking. Getting to know your name, which ring you're from, (he was shocked that you were born in the Lust ring), etc. Eventually you guys would hang out before and after his performances just about every day.

When you guys were 16 he gave you flowers and finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

Blitzo and Barbie always made fun of you two. Barbie found it sweet, saying that Fizz deserves you, but Blitzo was definitely jealous.

The day the fire happened you were hanging out with Fizz in the tent celebrating his birthday. Until this day you believed you should’ve been the one to get injured. Fizz wanted to save your life.

Before the fireworks went off he pushed you far away where only he would get the impact. The sides of your body were in white, but you didn't lose arms or legs like you should've.

The following months was definitely traumatizing for the both of you. You stayed by his side everyday until he got better, and during those times you would always apologize and saying you should be the one in that bed, not him, but Fizz loved you. He wanted to sacrifice himself so you wouldn’t be injured, or even worse killed. He didn’t want to lose you.

Once he got better you tracked down Asmodeus and asked him if he could make Fizz mechanical arms and legs so he would be able to perform again.

Right when Fizz got acclimated to his new arms and legs he went straight away to Mammon to audition, and he was a sensation.

So popular that he got his own sex robots, servant robots, he was the most popular jesters all throughout Hell. You were never jealous, but you were definitely afraid of him getting hurt again.

As years went by you could tell that Mammon has been draining Fizz. You always told your boyfriend that you're worried about him, but he shrugged it off and kept telling you that he's okay. You asked Fizz if he could try working at Ozzie's since you worked there and they were hiring. You hoped that Fizz would stop being underneath Mammon’s wing by him working there, but he was still underneath his wing.

Once Blitzo (now you learned it's Blitz) got into your live’s again you were kinda hesitant, but saw how clearly Fizz needed his best friend back. It did cheer him up a bit, but he was still stressed out about being the perfect clown.

It was that time of the year for Fizz to audition again, and this time you actually put your foot down. You called Blitz to go with you to try to convince Fizz to not do this thing again.

So now the two of you are trying to get Fizz to quit but he didn't.

Until finally the end of the audition he literally said, "I quit."

Ever since then you can see the light back into his eyes. He gained some weight, has a new wardrobe, and is always singing and dancing with you.

"Fizz, I'm tired." You playfully whined as he spins you, "I just want to take a nap with you."

"Oh come on, you don't like dancing with me?" He teased.

You placed your hands on his shoulders as you two swayed left and right. "I love your dancing, and I'm glad youve been happier since Mammon, but I'm SO tired and I really want to take a nap with you." You smiled.

"Okay, okay, fine." He fake pouted.

"How about after this nap we go out to eat at Ozzie's hm?"

"The place where we work at? Let's eat somewhere else."

You climbed on the bed and got underneath the covers. "Like what?"

Fizz laid down beside of you, resting his head on your chest. "How about...Hearts?"

"Sure."

Instead of going to sleep, the two of you kept switching sleeping positions. First you were on your back while he was on his side hugging you, then you turned over to where he was big spoon, then vice versa. The two of you kept laughing whenever the other person would move.

One moment he was on his back while you were in-between his legs with your head resting on his stomach.

Finally you crawled up to where your head was on his chest with him rubbing your back in circles. He looked over at the penis shaped alarm clock and the time read 3:50. He gently shook you.

“Hm?”

“It’s almost 4. Were you wanting that dinner?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled.

“Then get ready.” He shook you a little harder to wake you up.

“Okay, okay fine.” You groaned. “Wanna match our outfits?”

“Of fucking course! Don’t we always?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

The two of you picked out your outfits together. He wanted to wear something purple, so you happily obliged, even if you didn’t wanna wear something with that color. You knew it made him happy.

You guys made your way to the restaurant by taking a fancy limo that offers champagne. As you looked over at him you saw him with that big smile of his that you missed for the longest time.

“Do I have champagne on my face?” He wiped his mouth.

“No, silly. I’m just admiring you.”

“Am I that handsome?” He joked.

You snickered, “Very.”

The dinner felt nice for you two. You let him talk about so many things as you listened. Not superficial things, but things that were deep inside of him. You didn’t realize how much he changed before, during, and after Mammon.

The moment you guys got home you got in your pj’s and planted back onto the bed. Fizz pulled you in closer to where he was big spoon.

“I’m so happy to be with you.” You couldn’t help but to smile.

Since he can’t feel your hands he wrapped his tail around your tail to make it like you’re holding hands. “I’m happy too.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 16

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Happy Wednesday. I didn't have to change this because apparently the last time I updated was also a Wednesday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You look in the mirror, the steam receding to the frame. You look tired. You feel it. 

You put away the bottles you used for your bath and try some of the brown sugar moisturizer, hoping it might ease the dry spots left from the friction of your pillow. You cap it and place it in the basket with the rest.

You hang your towel on the rack and flip back the silver tab of the lock. You come out into the hall and nearly trip on your own toes. Andy stands casually against the wall, a dark blue towel folded over one arm, his phone in his other hand as he looks at you over the top.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I hope… hope I didn't take too long…"

"Nah, haven't been waiting long," he smiles and scratches his beard, a few tufts out of place as you hear the coarse graze of his fingertips, "sleep okay?"

You lie, "yes…You?"

"God knows I tried," he shrugs as he stands straight, "pretty shaken by the cops swinging by, you know?"

"Uh, sure," you tuck your lip under your teeth, "sorry–"

"You're not the one who needs to apologize," he waves you off and taps his thumb on the side button of his phone, crossing his arms, a gesture that emphasizes his size. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you something before I start the day."

"Oh?" Your brows squiggle together. What have you done wrong now?

"Did you wanna come to the library? I figured if you need to put together a resume for your application I could get together a few resources. It'd be a quiet place to work." He looks almost nervous as you watch his hand squeeze his phone tighter, knuckles white, "we could get some tea down at the cafe, maybe some lunch?"

You consider him and his request. It isn't a bad idea. You don't know where to start with a resume. You only imagine a blank piece of paper, as empty as your life. You try to smile, your cheeks dimpling painfully.

"Okay," you agree. 

You don't know you have the courage to say no. It is his house and it's a thoughtful idea. Amber always said you should get out when you feel grey… Amber…

"I'll go get my tablet," you say to chase away your sadness, "thanks, Andy."

"No problem," he takes a breath, relief uncoiling the tension from him. Had he really been so anxious? "You're the one doing me a favour, so thank you."

"I am?"

"Yeah, I won't complain for the company and it'll give me something to look forward to," he moves towards the bathroom door as you sidle out of his way. His hand seems to float over your shoulder just before you elude it. Instead he presses it to the door. "I'll try to hurry."

🕊️

It feels almost surreal to be back at the library. It's a reminder of everything that's happened. All that's changed.

Andy brings you in with him as he opens. You stand at the counter and watch him. He does everything with graceful certainty. It makes you insecure, there's nothing you know how to do so effortlessly.

When the library opens, it remains quiet. Andy gathers a few books for reference and you take them to the basement, wary of getting in his way as the first patrons arrive. You're much more comfortable in the isolated underground. 

You claim your usual spot and prop your tablet up in its case sideways. You open a book and delve into the basic formatting of a resume. You type your name at the top but the next line stumps you. Address? What do you put? Andy's? You don't even know it.

You skip that and put your email. Phone number? Yeah, not that either.

You work slowly. Your frustration mounts as you distract yourself with making neat margins and inserting lines over inputting any information. You have nothing to add. No skills, no experience, no value. 

You put your head in your hands and take a deep breath. You're overwhelmed by this simple task. How can you expect to have a job? Like Andy and Amber and everyone else. Everything that is so easy for them is almost impossible for you. You are dumb and worthless.

You stay like that for a while, staring at the table, fighting back tears. What are you going to tell Andy? That you're a loser. That all those expectations he has, you can't meet. Maybe you deserve everything you get, maybe Amber didn't deserve the blight of your existence.

"You're here," her voice draws your head up, as if you summoned her with your thoughts.

You blink, not believing she's real. Amber rushes forward and you sit back, staring wide eyed, terrified at her. She winces and stays on the other side of the table.

"What… why are you looking at me like that?" She clasps her hands together, "please, just listen, please," she pulls out the chair and sits, stretching and arm across the table, "I'm not here to argue–"

"How did you find me?"

"It's not that hard, I know you. I'm your sister."

You fold your arms, shrinking down, brow furrowing, heart sinking. Why is she doing this? She's only her to make you feel worse.

"I'm not here to argue, alright? I just want you to hear me."

"You called the police," you accuse.

"You left in the middle of the night," she hisses, "what was I supposed to do? I was scared."

"And so was I," you snap back. "I'm fine…" you look down and spread your hands over the pages, pushing the book flat, "I'm going to get a job."

She pauses and looks down at the book. She leans in and nods.

"That's great," she forces out stuntedly, "I can help if–"

"No," you shake your head.

She sits back and sighs, "what did I do?" 

"I told you. I'm not a child."

"I know you aren't, bubba."

"Bubba?! You talk to me like I am."

She seals her lips and swallows your word with another nod. She puts her hands on the table, as if steadying herself.

"Right, I'm not going to talk to you like a child. I'm just going to say what I came to say and you can choose to hear me or not." She takes a breath and sets her jaw, "that man does not want to help you. You can't see it but he doesn't want what's best for you, I do.

"I know you've made your choice but it's the wrong one. I can't change your mind, police said they won't bring you back, but I can at least try to talk some sense into you. You do what you want, be the adult you claim to be, but at the end of the day, you're my sister and you always will be.

"Bubba, if this all goes wrong, when it does, I will be waiting. My door is open. Today, tomorrow, in a week, a year, whenever you need me–"

She shudders as her eyes glisten and she puts her palm to her chest, "please just think about what you're doing."

You drop your chin. Your heart clenches. Amber always sounds right. She's always been there but you just can't go back. It feels cowardly to change your mind just because you have to do things for yourself. 

And you just don't believe her. You want to so bad but you see what she's doing. Andy showed you what to look for; she's playing the victim. She hurt you, you didn't hurt her. She couldn't handle you being out of control and now she's panicking.

"Bub…" she utters. You just stare at your lap. "Let me know if you need anything. I'll bring you whatever you want–"

"Hoovering," you whisper, tilting your head up slightly at Amber's confused hum, "it's when a narcissist tries to win back someone they lost. Through spontaneous contact and making empty promises…"

"Bubba, how– I wouldn’t do that."

"I thought you wouldn't… before."

She lingers for a moment. She stands slowly and fixes her purse on her shoulder. She looms over the table and lets out a shallow breath that sounds like a sob.

"You know I'll pick up the phone. I'll be there…" she drags her fingers across the table, "whenever you need me."

She hesitates before she turns to leave. You hear her gulping as she steps between the shelves and steps shuffle out from the staircase.

"Hey, what are you–" Andy's accusation fills the silence, "dove! Are you okay?"

"Shut up," Amber growls, "and don't touch me." You look up as she shoves away his hand on her arm, "I'm leaving…" her voice is sticky with repressed grief, "she won't listen. Are you happy you fucking monster?"

He squares his shoulders and looks at her, glares down his nose, "I'm helping her. Something you never did."

"Fuck yourself. If you hurt her, I will–"

"That won't work. You're not going to stand here and scare her," he snarls, "so go."

They lock in a staredown before Amber elbows past him, marching to the stairs and stopping to look back down at the aisle. You sink down and cover your face. You feel a pit swallowing up. This shouldn't be so hard. None of it. Writing this damn resume or living your own life. It's so hard.

🕊️

You sit in the cafe, watching the street through the window from your seat in the corner. You feel as if you're outside your own body, like you're floating over the pedestrians, watching from some secret tower. You close your eyes and see the blank document etched into your retinas. 

The clink of a dish brings your head up. You sit back, limp and barely able to support your own weight. You just feel empty.

Andy sets down a sandwich before you, beside the steaming tea you hadn't touched. He gives a sheepish smile as your eyes bore past him. He sits and places a napkin beside you plate.

Neither the sight or scent of food can stir your appetite. You can't even remember the last time you ate. Last night you pushed around the casserole noodles until he stopped paying attention.

"Looks good," he says as he reaches for his foamy coffee. "I grabbed a little surprise for dessert tonight," he says as he sets his cup down and pats his jacket pocket.

You nod and clear your throat. The simple act hurts.

"Thank you," you force out.

"Well," he hovers his hand over his plate, "dig in. It looks delicious and I'm sure you're starving."

"Uh, sure," you drone and consider the thick sandwich; a croissant stacked with turkey and swiss, a leaf of lettuce and slice of tomato peeking out.

You grab your cup instead and take a swig. You hum, "I didn't even try my tea," you distract him, "how's your coffee?"

"Good, mocha usually isn't my thing but not bad. Gotta try new things, right, dove?"

"Mhmm," you peel away the edge of the lettuce and make yourself nibble it. It tastes awful. Everything is terrible.

"Been a good day, so far, not too busy," he carries on, "how's the resume coming?"

You shrug, "not done…"

He clucks and nods, letting out a long breath. He leans forward and picks up his ham and cheddar on rye. He takes a bite as you tear away some of the croissant and pretend to chew on the end.

"So… guess we should talk," he swallows, "about your sister."

"I don't want to," you whine, "please–"

"I need to know what she said, honey. To protect you. Like last night, hm? When she sent the cops after you like some criminal."

"She was only worried," you rebuff.

"About herself. About making herself feel better by standing on your back," he puts and elbow on the table, lowering his brow in a serious way, "I tell you every day you can do anything, and what did she ever do but tell you not to even try."

You frown. Your heart is in pieces. You don't want to be here. You don't want to be anywhere.

"I'll keep working on my resume," you say, "I'll be done it soon."

He huffs and sniffs at his sandwich before taking another bite. He is silent as he swallows, his gaze weighing on you.

"We can get a box if you wanna take that back with you. No eating in the stacks but just don't let anyone see."

"Thank you, Andy," you say, "I'll be hungry later for sure."

"Mhmm," he taps his foot under the table, letting the silence hang.

You cross your arms and sit back, looking past him to the street again. You wish you had somewhere to be with a briefcase, or were running to catch a bus, you wish you had any purpose but to be a burden.

🕊️

You put the casserole in as Andy mutters to himself and flips through the channels. He says there's some ball game on. You're happy he at least had something to fill the void of your conversations.

You wait in the kitchen. You watch the timer countdown and when it dings you take out the pan. You set it on the counter and scoop out a healthy helping into a plate. You take a fork and knife and rest it on the rim, going to stand in the archway that looks into the front room.

"Do you wanna eat here or at the table?"

Andy looks over, his arm stretched over the back cushion of the grey couch.

"I'll come eat with you," he volunteers as he sits forward.

"No, it's okay. I'm going to lay down… I have a headache."

"A headache? I have advil," his forehead creases with concern.

"Already took something. I think it's going to rain…"

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I… was looking forward to eating together."

"It's okay. Tomorrow," you promise, "please, enjoy and watch your game."

His mouth slants as you approach and put the plate on the coffee table. You feel uneven and wobbly. You just want to sleep until you can't wake up.

"I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow," you step back and hide a yawn behind your hand.

"I hope so," he says, "I'll check on you before I turn in. Just to make sure you're okay."

"You don't have to…"

"I want to," he insists, "you know where to find me if you need anything.'

You slowly back away. You turn and drag your feet to the door. You don't need anything but to be alone.

[craziness2345]

Chapter 4

So I suck lol I'm sorry this one took so long school and this mixed does not go well at times. I hope you like this chapter and i promise i will bring next chapter out by next week i'm going on vacation and the drive is 16 hours so i'll have time to work on this! let me know how you guys like this chapter please!

_________________________________________________________

It was weird how our dynamic changed within a week. I haven't had a single nightmare since i started staying with Natasha and wanda it still confuses me why they've been so adamant on me staying with them each night there was a few nights in the beginning of the week where i tried to sleep in my own room feeling bad for bothering them but each time they’d just go straight in my roo to lay with me instead.

I gave up after that and kinda just got used to it i liked not having the nightmares and for once in my life since i was younger i felt safe and protected it was nice having that feeling. It also caused us to get a lot closer. I felt like I was always with them. Now one of us was with the other or together all at the same time. 

But that changed when wanda and natasha had to go on a mission but the worst part about this mission was it was no contact nor was there a set day for them to come back either. It was both nerve wracking and I hated how it made me feel knowing I shouldn't be feeling this way. Sighing to myself i see Natasha and wanda head on over to me dressed in there undercover clothes “ Will you be okay? Wanda asks worriedly.

I nod “ Don’t worry i’m a big girl “ I comment reassuringly even though deep down i know i’m struggling i just show  a happy face” be careful please” I say softly worry evident on my face. Natasha smirks “ It’ll be wanda and i and captain america everything will be fine” Natasha says. I roll my eyes “ Okay “ I laugh giving them each a hug “ But seriously i want my two best friends to make sure to be safe” I say not noticing the small frown on the two red heads faces when i had said best friend. By the time I looked up they were back to smiling at me. “ So have a safe trip and be back in time” I say as they nod giving me one last hug before they head out onto the quinjet steve following not long after he gets out of the elevator as he waves at me before leaving. 

I sigh and slouch in my couch “ so you have a thing for my sestra and her girlfriend L/N Y/N “ I jump off the couch meeting yelena's eyes as mine widen “ Wait what!?” I exclaim my eyes bulging as Kate walks in giggling “ Yelena leave her alone” She says sitting on the couch.

“ What? I’m just stating a fact i mean she gets all googly eyed on them” Yelena says as my cheeks redden “ She nots wrong Y/N and you’re even acting all depressed “ kate point out softly causing me to slouch in the couch again my face beat red. I let a loud scoff pass my lips “ I am not acting depressed” I say dismissively. I decide to sit up as Kate snorts “ Okay Y/N “ She says softly. 

I hear yelena snicker “ You’re such a love sick puppy” she comments” You know Y/N L/N you should well tell them” She shrugs as i give her a dirty look “ there’s Nothing to say to them” I snap as yelena raises an eye “ тупица”  ( Dumbass) I give her a dirty look “ I gotta go “ I grumble annoyed as i stand up and leave kate and yelena teasing me as i leave.

I decide to head into the elevator and go up getting off i head straight to furys office barging in as he looks up instantly” Do no- Oh Y/N what is it” He calms instantly as i sit in the chair across from him shrugging” Nothing just wanted to hang with the old man” I tease. 

He gives me an unamused look” I’m not old” HE corrects causing me to smirk “ Oh yeah yeah that’s what old people say” I tease as he gives me another look rolling his eyes he goes back to his paperwork “ what do you actually want ? “ He asks as I go serious. “ I wanted to know if you have any leads on him” I say, sitting straighter, fur humming and pulling out a folder. 

“ Honestly nothing after he left the hospital went dark” he says. I frown at grabbing the folder looking at the medical records. I scan over all the people looking at the picture. My heart was aching at what I was seeing. I close it, the guilt hitting me. 

“ Stop, I know that face, it was an accident. “ HE tries to reassure me as I look away hiding my emotions. “ Right,” I mumble, not believing a word he says, “ Just let me know if you find anything else,” I say standing up.

Fury sighs watching me leave “ You know i will” He says gently a tone he only ever uses for me as i leave his room . The image of my brother still embedded in my skull as I walk down the hall the memories of that night and his and my fathers screams of pain I shut my eyes taking a deep breath to control that memory before heading out needing a coffee.

I head down a street once I leave the avengers tower heading to a small coffee shop. I head inside placing an order for a caramel mocha. Thanking the barista, I sat down at a booth to stare out at all the people walking down the streets. I let my mind wander worried about Natasha and Wanda. I wonder how long they will be gone for. Knowing how no communication missions  go, it could be a few days or weeks. I shudder at hating this already.

I curse myself silently hating how i feel knowing it wasn’t right when they were together as well. I sigh to myself drinking my coffee before doing a double take standing up. I head out of the coffee shop looking through the crowded streets in a hurry. I know he was somewhere. I swear I saw him cursing when I didn't see him. I rubbed my temples, deciding to head back as I thought back to the figure I saw across the street. 

He looked like Jake. I swear that's who I saw the burnt side of his face but maybe I was hallucinating? Yeah I had to be there's no way that was him. I started walking back to the tower, my thoughts jumbled up by what I thought I saw.

______________________________________________________

The two weeks go by as I start to slowly struggle to sleep feeling like someone was watching at times I swore I saw my brother but I try to put that thought at the back of my mind since I've been struggling to sleep. It made more sense. It was my exhaustion fucking with me.

We still had no word from Natasha and Wanda. I did get some words out of fury, finding out that they might be coming back soon from the mission. That did get me a bit more upbeat. I start heading back to the tower as it starts to pour down tremendously. Cursing, I toss my coffee in a nearby trash can as I decide to take a short cut and go pull my hood up over my head. 

As I walk down the alley I feel some type of sharp pain in my shoulder groaning. I move my hand pulling it out of my shoulder. I realized it was what looked to be a tranquilizer dart. Unsure what the liquid was, I started to feel woozy moving my head. I blink seeing a figure walking down with a gun that I assume had the dart in it. I try to furrow my eyes moving to use my invisibility but struggle to.

The dark figure walks closer humming his face completely covered” sorry but you’re powers ain't gonna work i gave you a nice dose that stuns you're powers” The deep distorted voice says stumbling back words i curse before stumbling to run away the figure chuckles deeply “ Who i love a good game of cat and mouse” he starts following me slowly as i pass down another alley stumbling some more i blearily pull out my phone hitting the emergency button that sends to the tower hoping they can get to me in time. 

Everything starts to blur as i end up hitting a dead end i curse to myself turning around to make another run for it i freeze seeing him standing there “ i think this is the end of the game and the line” He says “ that tranquilizer should be doing it’s job by now “ He says coming closer as i start to slide down the wall.

“ Your friends won’t be saving you either they are a little preoccupied with a bomb in downtown “ He chuckles as i completely black out the last thing i remember his him picking me up before everything goes dark.

[this-hopeless-war]

i haven't been online so here's some headcanons idk if i've posted before im eepy

(tw talking about sh, kinda dark so don't read if that's triggering, that part will be at the end and separated so you can easily skip it)

Ace fucking loves snow

Dallas has shitty vision but he doesn't want nor can he afford glasses (and let's be honest, he'd break em within a day)

When Pony turned 15 Soda started teaching him about cars and etc, when pony was 16 he got a job at the DX 

Due to them working together Pony started to like Steve more

Darry hates when it rains because it means he can't do his roofing gig and he'll come home stressed/grumpy over missing a day of his paycheck

Dally can go a scary long time without sleep, he'll be up for 2 days straight and still be socializing and shit

Dally and Two-Bit once had a drinking contest that didn't end well for anyone involved 

Two-Bit took high school drama (thinking about this is genuinely how I get through the day at school)

During the week Pony was gone, Soda vented to Steve a lot, they honestly grew a lot closer

The first time he was alone after Pony and Johnny got back, Steve cried from relief

⬇️warning here's where talk of sh starts (also added some resources at the end if you read them then feel distress😨)

Steve has had issues with sh (OUGH I love him)

And because of it being in an environment where mental health isn't really talked about at all or very understood, he doesn't really know that sh is, like, an actual thing, he just considers it a way to take out emotion when fighting isn't doing it

And no one ever really acknowledged it (they can see scars on his arm)

Though i'm toying around with headcanons for a bit in my head where (TW) he relapses at the back of the DX after a REALLY bad night where his dad said and did some not-so-handy-dandy things and Soda walks in (Spoiler alert: Steve gets a hug and cries but Soda doesn't cause he thinks he should be tough abt it or something, when he gets home he does though)

After that Steve is at the Curtis's even more and Soda even goes over to the Randle's a couple times cause when Steve is feeling really horrible he calls him up

I also have vague ideas for a bit with Evie

Where she, like, does smt abt it cause she's worried and he's always dodged questions

not 100% sure how it'll work yet though

This is a post of a list of hotlines for the USA, if you found this triggering or are in distress in general please message/call one

⬆️There are help lines everywhere, please done hesitate to search up the numbers for your country and call/text them

And here's just some websites or apps that can help you in times of distress

Have a handy dandy day!

[kifflepiffles]

Fixed Francis, Nacha, and Anastacha headcanon backstory;

(This is also basing off the fact that in the 40s and 50s, to avoid judgement, it was very common to kick out and disown a child if they got pregnant or knocked someone up while young and/or before marriage)

When Nacha was pregnant with Anastacha, Francis was very distant and full of dread. He feared the idea of being a father, but couldn't bring himself to just leave. The two of them were highschool sweethearts, only 16 and 17 years old when she was born. They dropped out of highschool and went straight to work to rent an apartment together and start saving for the baby. The stress, distance, and general growing apart as they matured lead to them mutually breaking up when Nacha was 6 months pregnant, but agreeing to both co-parent actively.

He was there for Nacha when Ana was born, holding her hand, advocating for her to the doctors, and retrieving things she wanted. He was nauseous with anxiety. Between the stress and the blood, he had blacked out twice.

But not long after Anastacha was born, he snapped out of his dread. His fear of becoming a father had vanished the moment he got to hold her. Its one of his favorite memories. Nacha was taking a nap and didn't want the baby to be in the nursery where she couldn't watch her, so Francis took her. At first, he sat in an armchair in the hospital room, tense and awkward as the newborn slept in his arms. But he watched her breathe, observed her, watching her hand grasp his finger, and noticed his features in her. She had his eyes.

When Nacha woke up, Francis was leaning back in the chair with Anastacia against his chest and was a sobbing, shaking mess. Nacha pretended to be asleep a bit longer until Ana cried to be fed to not disrupt them. She had never seen Francis cry, let alone hysterically, before their daughter's birth.

He vowed to stay as close as possible for the sake of his daughter; To be in her life whilst keeping a distance from her mother for both of their comfort. It's the reason why they live in the same apartment despite mutually breaking up when Nacha was pregnant, which they moved into when Ana was a few months old and sleeping through the night. It's why he puts up with his job, despite it draining him. It's lonely, but he's there for his daughter, and he cherishes his sweet baby girl.

When Anastacha was an infant, Francis wasn't a milkman yet. He took a job with a night shift, hence why he's still so tired. (Fun fact, when you're young, not sleeping enough leads to chronic fatigue as an adult. Don't make the same mistake francis made, and the mistake I'm trying to fix while I'm still under 20 :'] )

Nacha had a part time job while she went through a culinary certification class. During the day, Francis took care of Ana and would take naps with her. Then he handed her off to Nacha when she got home around 4 or 5, slept until 8:30, then headed off to work by 9. When Nacha got her job as a chef, the two of their incomes was enough to hire a babysitter for the day a few times a month. Ana would be in one apartment, and both Nacha and Francis would spend the day in the other apartment, catching up on sleep. This was their schedule until Ana was about 6 or 7 and in school, and could spend an hour or so unattended, playing with toys and watching TV until either of them arrived home from work. It was around this time that Francis picked up his milkman job

From the time Ana was a toddler, Nacha and Francis taught her how to navigate between the two of their apartments. Both of them are truly like home to her. Even if her childhood was a bit nerve racking for them, as their baby was running around the hallways with little attendance. But it was a bit nice when she was young. Her constant questions of, "Can we get a dog? Can I have ice cream for breakfast? Why can't I get a drum set? " granted the couple a few more minutes of peace when they said "Go ask your dad/mom"

Francis expected her to resent him for not living with her mother. But to Ana, it was normal. Every other day, she would switch between sleeping at Nacha and Francis's apartments, calling it a "sleepover", despite who's apartment she was at. Both of their apartments were cluttered with her toys

Now that she's older, she spends a bit more time in her mom's apartment because she finds her room to be cozier and more private there. But she still switches often. A day at Nacha's, a Day at Francis's. A few hours at both. A few days at either. Sometimes, it even depends on if she wants to take a walk, or if she got into an argument with one of them.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Living Weapon Whumpee part 16

Warnings: forced living weapon/fighter, recovery whump, reluctant alliance, rejection by peers

Only this time he was working to earn respect from his peers. An impossible feat, considering his now-allies had hundreds of reasons to hate him. The list starting with killer and ending with Weapon.

"So... what are your names?" Whumpee tried to diffuse the tension. It seemed logical, to start learning what to call each man.

"...I'm Jake," the biggest of the men said gruffly, watching Whumpee through narrowed eyes. He had dark orange hair and hazel eyes, and wore a menacing scowl on his. "I am effectively the leader of the team under Flint's command. What I say goes. Period.” his void was deadpan and cold, and he jerked his chin toward the man on his left, a guy with brown hair and eyes. “That one is Reed, my second-in-command.”

"You can learn the rest of my group's names over time. Right now, it's the time of day that we would train in the fight room." He stood up from his chair, and the others eagerly copied him, nervously glancing at the living weapon.

Whumpee followed them as they filed out of the room, a full head higher than all but Jake, who was also exceptionally tall. It made him all the more intimidating to be around.

Whumpee didn't say a word as he followed the team to the training area, finding himself in a large room full of sparring weapons, punching bags, and some other machines for exercising.

"We usually split up and pick what area we feel we need to train more on," Jake explained, "whether it be physical fitness or honing battle skills."

Whumpee watched the other soldiers migrate to different areas, and decided to try the punching bags. He lined himself up at the nearest one and took a swing -- with a little too much power. His fist went straight through it, spraying sand all over the floor when he pulled his arm out in surprise.

He sheepishly glanced at the cluster of men getting ready to lift weights, who were all staring at him, faces pale with terror. Because that could have been someone's head on the battlefield. His face heated with embarrassment. He'd forgotten how strong he was.

Maybe that means I should work on gaining more finite control of my movements, he deduced, and moved to a second punching bag, giving it a few light taps to avoid accidentally smashing it to bits.

Each time he barely touched the bag, picking up speed with short, sharp punches. It felt unnatural to be holding back. He was used to going all out, using any means to win a fight.

Over an hour of practice passed before Jake announced the end of it, and while other soldiers were visibly tired and worn-out, Whumpee had barely broken a sweat. No one talked to or acknowledged his presence as they moved on to dinner, and then finally the shared sleeping quarters with beds lined along the walls.

Whumpee stayed awake for a long time after the lights switched off, and he could tell from the breathing patterns alone that several other men were too, shifting around restlessly -- probably unwilling to let their guards down and rest, lest he slit their throats in their sleep. A reasonable fear, considering who Whumpee was.

After a lot of tossing and turning, Whumpee managed to drift off.

He awoke the next morning to find himself alone. Everyone else had already left, no one bothering to wake him. Probably too scared to even approach.

Whumpee sighed wearily, getting up and padding out after slipping some shoes on. He got lost wandering the maze of halls in the facility, but eventually he successfully located the team he was with, who were gathered in a large room full of... games? Things like darts and pool and cards and so much more! He could hardly believe what he was seeing! It must be recreational free-time for the soldiers.

There were groups of two or three playing each game together, none of which invited him to join.

Whumpee didn't mind, at least that's what he told himself. Although... playing two-or-more player games did look rather fun. He was never allowed the simple luxury of entertainment under Leader's control.

But he knew asking to join would make everyone even more on-edge, so he refrained from it, deciding to throw darts at the board by himself to pass the time. Maybe once the soldiers grew more comfortable around him they'd invite him to play cards, though he'd never played before. They'd have to teach him.

Those first few days of existence were... rough. Everyone avoided Whumpee like the plague when possible, edgy and jumpy whenever he walked into a room. Steering clear when there was space to do so.

But the men were growing bolder and more confident the longer Whumpee was around, and it was on the fourth day that Whumpee faced his first round of genuine, direct trouble.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

[fairycosmos]

I’m wondering if you could speak more about the adolescent life experiences you missed out on because I am curious and also heavily relate and am seeking solace in shared experiences

from the ages of like 11-16, it was particularly difficult for me. i had very few friends and people at school would either make fun of me or straight-up act like i wasn't there a lot of the time. so eventually every single day just became a battle where i refused to go to school or participate in life much during those years. i'd have meltdown after meltdown and it was honestly exhausting. i think when my classmates were discovering the foundations of who they were and learning to acclimate to social situations and developing bonds and memories with those around them, i was either sleeping or breaking down or on my computer. basically half-mute, missing out on massive chunks of my secondary education bc i was/am so beyond mentally ill & also could not handle the alienation/ridicule. i can't stress enough how much damage i think this has done to me and my sense of self and my life as a whole, the direction of it. i usually feel like i did not even develop a personality or a selfhood at all tbh. the only reason i kind of broke out of that cycle was bc i lost a bunch of weight, dated a random dude i met online for a bit + started smoking/drinking which allowed me to cope with reality a little easier. not recommending any of that as a way out btw because none of it has actually helped the root of my issues lol and it put me in a lot of dangerous situations, which also set me back emotionally, just in a different way. i'm really sorry you can relate, i know it's hard. i know there's a lot of grief involved in living like this and constantly wondering who you could've been had things been different, constantly wondering why you had to be like this while everyone else got to be "normal." i'm working on abandoning the idea of a conventional timeline that everyone has to follow but still, it's so so painful. especially when hardly anyone around me is willing to abandon their idea of the conventional timeline, which gives it a lot of weight as a concept. it's hard to live with. i completely understand and will be here if you need to talk. x

[httpscomexe]

Just came across your give me inspiration post and I’ve come to deliver 🫡

How about Bucky or Logan x naive reader? Well not really naive but sort of? Reader keeps making excuses for him and keeps brushing of the concerning things he does. Ex he keeps tabs on her he has to know where she is at all times or else he starts to FREAK out. He sabotages readers work or projects so that she will come to him for help. He even intrudes on her time with friends when reader says she’s going out he starts pouting and saying “I wish I had something to do. You should let me go with you. It will be fun they won’t mind”. Even their work place co workers mention it to reader but she just brushes it off saying “ oh he’s just a friend” or “he’s just lonely sometimes”. Basically he’s obsessed with reader and wants to be the only thing she thinks about and he will go to extreme measures to have her no MATTER what.

Hopefully that was good 🤷‍♀️ if it’s not feel free to ignore it lol it’s feels good to be back. I missed you ��

-love , S 💋

Barnes & Noble

Summary: Nothing goes right in your shitty life. Work, school, everything. It’s all shit. Until a worried friend finally looks out for you, and you have the best day you’ve had in probably years.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Professor!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language, suicide, drugs, wounds, drinking, underage drinking, anxiety, panic, shit boss, shit mom, all that good stuff,  (Individual warnings per chapter)

Word Count: 3408 (Find all parts here) Pt.2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

AN: This is almost completely different from what you asked for, but to be fair, I don't plan what I write, I just let my brain and my fingers move however they feel like and if I process that something is bad, I delete it and refresh for a minute. But I think I'm back. And this will probably have three parts.

Lolly: Guess who’s throwing a party this weekend!

You: I’m assuming Trent?

Lolly: Ew no, I would not be excited.

You: You?

Lolly: Yea! And you’re invited!

You smile at the rectangle of light in your hands, the only source of light in the room as a matter of fact. Your eyes are tired, you had been studying all day and just when you were about to sleep, your phone buzzed. Of course, considering your addiction to the device, you immediately picked it up, losing every second of progress you had made earlier trying to actually fall asleep. Fucking insomnia. You either went to sleep quickly and woke up every hour, or you didn’t sleep until an hour before you needed to be up for class. If your higher dosage didn’t start to work on sleeping pills, you seriously considered chloroform as a personal prescription.

You weren’t exactly a party person, apart from the drinks. The thought of being in a house full of three hundred people dancing and drinking, sweating all night while fucking whereever because their drunken mind couldn’t think straight was seriously making your stomach fold in disgust. What was even the point in parties anyways? To lose your virginity and figure out who the dad is for the next 5 years and you can’t afford a test because now you have to take care of a baby? Sounded like prison, just being held in a cell for 18 years or until you decide to kick the bucket yourself, deciding debt was more depressing than your lifestyle.

To be fair, you weren’t raised in the best household. Your mom tried to kick you out at 16, which you instead ran away, thinking she hated you but really she just didn’t want you to walk in on her hanging halfway off the bed with an empty bottle of pills hanging loose from her hand. And your dad? Sometimes you think you’re a lab experiment. Mom never brought him up,and when you brought him up, you’d be sent to your room like it was a cage and you failed your test. You honestly got lucky with the amount of maturity your harder teenage life gave you. Now you’re either working, studying, going to class, or getting the five hours, and what feels like thirty minutes of sleep, of course, only every other day. Some days, you don't get to sleep at all.

So of course you didn’t want to go to your best friend Lolly’s party. Whenever you said you were busy she’d just tell you to take a sick day off, but obviously, that wasn’t a thing that would ever be able to happen. You think your mom is the worst? Wait until you hear about your boss…

Morning

“Keep it going! It’s just a scratch!” She shouted basically in your face, her spit from her smoke corroded teeth would probably be on the tip of your nose if you had turned your head just barely to the right. The ‘scratch’ on your arm bleeding, leaking down between the now goosebumps on your skin and a few drops dripping down onto the broken glass on the greasy tile floor. Some asshole wasn’t happy about how few chocolate chips were in their cookie, you wish you weren’t joking. But of course, the customer is always right, even if it means they get to throw a broken piece of glass at you, cutting your bicep. “I don’t even know why I bothered hiring you, you ain’t even a pretty face.” She scoffs as she walks away, half her ass sticking out from her way to small pants. You half expected her button to fly out and land in someone's drink. She’d probably broken about 80 different codes by now with the way she talked to you. But of course, you’re way too patient with people, unlike Lolly, who quit the job as soon as she saw the morning shift manager, literally set her hat and apron down on the counter and walked out. You wish you had walked out with her, as she now works at a pet store, grooming dogs while you bleed all over the floor. It was five in the damned morning, you didn’t need this shit. But here you were, scrubbing the floor of glass, spilt Fanta, and blood, which was dripping onto the floor still, creating more of a mess.

Afternoon

From five to twelve. That’s how long you had to work. Every. Single. Day. Then you have thirty minutes to get to your first class. You have to switch clothes in the bathroom at work, shove it in your bag, run out onto the streets of New York, jog down Grey Street, cross Midway Drive, cut through the park at the centre of the city, hoping to fuck there isnt some event happening that keeps you from going around, then you have to go down into the subway, walk through the crowd of people talking loudly on their phones, all sweating and holding briefcases, so you try your hardest to avoid their bodies, reminded of the gash on your bicep when a musty street performer covered in silver paint rubs against you, coating your skin in a not so shiny and sort of disgustingly sticky paint. You hold back the gag you wanted to release onto about 15 people, and you push through the rest, almost twisting your ankle halfway up the stairs, but you of course power through it, and look at your watch. You didn’t have time to go to your dorm and clean up, but fuck. You look at your reflection in the window of a Starbucks, you didn’t even realise you had started crying, but your mascara running down your cheeks just like the blood had run down your arm, which stopped at some point and dried up with the streak of paint, made you look an absolute mess. Like you just walked in on your husband cheating on you with your sister. You just gag at your reflection, then the walking symbol shows up, and you cross the street, it was rush hour, so you had two choices. Go to your room, and clean up, be about ten minutes late, or go to class and look like shit in front of everyone. It was a split-second decision. But you didn’t want to look like shit. Honestly, you didn’t even want to go to class, so missing a few minutes wouldn’t kill you. Even if it did, you wouldn’t mind.

So instead of taking a right and going to the class you so desperately needed to pass, you go left on Harper Road, and you run up some steps to your apartment, shoving the keys in the door and swinging it open before rushing to the bathroom, pulling off your white blouse - now stained red and brown from blood - and tossing it on the floor, quickly turning on your shower, and you didn’t give a flying fuck about the water bill, you were about to take your damned time under the water.

You step in once your fully unclothed, the warm running water stinging your cut but the damned shower was the only good thing going on in your life right now, so there were no complaints apart from the hiss that leaves your lips as it does hit the now inflamed wound.

About thirty minutes later

About twenty eyes land on you as soon as you walk into the classroom, which was actually just the library. Literary class for your want to be a writer, and your teacher - Professor Barnes - pauses for a moment. He looks you up and down, gives you a disappointed look, then you find an open seat, pulling out a notebook with only a few minutes left of the class, but you were about to spend the next hour or so in the library with your friends anyways. While you wrote, and studied, they had a project to work on. One that you’ve already failed twice. Once for turning it into the wrong class, and once for accidentally lighting it on fire at work when a co-worker dropped a flaming pan on it, which, of course, you were blamed for. Then just as class ends, and everyone packs to leave while you continue to write notes into your book, you feel a presence behind you. Before you can even apologise to him, you feel his large hand on your shoulder, and his voice in your ear.

“You were late again.” No shit Sherlock. “What happened this time?” He asks, moving to sit on the corner of your desk, and you put down your pencil. He asked the question as if he didn’t believe you every other time you told him your situation. You wait for the library to completely empty out before you could yell at him for being a dick, and as soon as the last student leaves, the second the door closes and leaves a whoosh of air from its weight, you don’t scream. Some unknown squeak of every emotion mixed together except for happiness and joy leaves your throat, and your newly applied mascara runs down your face, exposing your clear tears to be mixed with the black makeup, streaks of it running down your cheeks, causing you to lean forward, face in your hands as you start to sob. The sound of a heavy sigh is the only thing in the room apart from your absolutely embarrassing breakdown. “I gave you a hundred on the assignment for the day.” What? That makes you look up, once again looking like a wife just cheated on, only this time your false husband cheated with your own mother.

“W-What? I-I don’t even k-know what the assignment was…” You hear him scoff, but it wasn’t a hateful scoff, it was more of a ‘do I look like I give a fuck,’ sort of scoff.

“Look. Lolly spoke to me about how you’re doing. So I figured I’d give you a break.” That was… Weird… Why would he do that?

“But what about the assignments that go with it-?”

“Congrats, your grade just went from a D to a B. How about you go home and relax for the rest of the day instead of studying.” You’re silent for a moment. Relax? You haven’t done that since freshman year, and even then, you weren’t sure your lunch period was exactly meant for a thirty minute nap.

“Mr. Barnes- I-” You jump a little, his hand closing your textbook and he hops off the table.

“Come on, class is over, go home.” He sighs, and goes back to his desk with your textbook, scanning it and setting it on the shelf so you wouldn’t even need to bother turning it back in and most likely paying the late fee. You stand up awkwardly, grabbing your bag and only just realising you definitely twisted your ankle as you limp a little before barely catching yourself on your desk. You honestly looked pathetic, you weren’t exactly sure why he wasn’t laughing. “Are you alright there?” You hear his voice close again, and you turn to look up at him, his hand moving to the middle of your back. But momma didn’t raise any wimp.

“It hurts-” You whimper. What. The fuck. Momma would be disappointed - If she wasn’t dead - she’d probably choke you to death. That pathetic ass noise would’ve been enough to consider you a puppy ready for adoption. “I mean uh- I’m fine.” He chuckles a little dryly, his eyes widening at your horrible attempt to convince him that you were truly fine.

“Are you sure? You’re crying even more now.” Honestly, if he hadn’t pointed it out, you wouldn’t have noticed. You were so sleep deprived. So tired. Exhausted. You were genuinely ready to snap at the next person who even breathed wrong. “Are you gonna be able to walk back to your dorm?” He grabs your bag, swinging it over his shoulder before you can even answer.

“I-I’ll be alright…” You hold out your hand for your bag, but instead, his hand on your back gently pushes you forward, making you limp in pain before his arm snakes around your waist, which should’ve made you jump, but he was helping you walk.

“Well, Imma give you a ride home if that’s alright.” He pushes the button to open the automatic door, helping you walk out into the cold air which hits you in the face worse than it should with tear stained cheeks.

“I mean I can walk-”

“Doesn’t look like it.” He shrugs, walking into the teachers parking lot, dragging you towards his truck, the one you knew was his because he was the only teacher you could actually stand, so you’ve waved bye to him at the end of the day a few times before.

“Yea- I can’t.” You admit, limping along next to him.

He opens the passenger door to the truck, and he even helps you in, setting your bag on the floorboard before closing the door and rounding the vehicle, getting into the driver seat and the warm air from the vents feels amazing, everywhere except for your sleeve covered arm, which was still warm and inflamed.

“Go ahead and give me directions hun.” He asks, pulling out of his parking space. You turn on your phone, a few missed texts from Lolly that you could look at and deal with later swiped away by your thumb as you go to the maps app to get directions until you remember you live just across the street from the dorms.

“I uh… I’m in the apartment- the one with the red roof across the street from the dorms…” you mumble, but he does hear you, nodding as you set your phone down on the centre console and reach down, rubbing your shin with your palm and it hurts like shit - it's definitely more than sprained - and you were way too poor to go to the hospital to get it checked out. So a self diagnosis would be enough for now.

“So what happened? Did you fall or something?”

“I uh- twisted it going up the subway steps.” You sit back up and look out the window.

“Subway? What are you doing in the subway if you live so close to the school?”

“I have work in the mornings…”

“Sounds stressful.”

“You have… no idea…” You mumble again, looking out the windshield now, and you can practically feel his head turn to look at you, so you look back, you were of course, correct. “Sorry- I just- today has been really bad. Not as bad as like- other days, just like- the worst this month.” You shrug, trying not to just be some complaining idiot.

“No, no. It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise. If I were you, I wouldn’t even be going to class after that.” He shrugs in return, and turns back to the road, which you do too as he steps on the gas and continues.

“I just uh, I guess I’m clumsy.” You look down a little.

“I just assumed you got caught up in the rush hour crowds. You wouldn’t be the first person to be pushed around by assholes in the swarms of humans.” You chuckle a little. Swarms of humans is definitely the best way to describe it. “Lolly told me about your work, your boss sounds like a dick.” You laugh this time, throwing your head back onto the headrest behind you and you look at him, a little smile on his lips.

“Oh no, she’s the most loveable person ever-” He starts to laugh at your horribly acquainted sarcasm. “She’s the best part of my day.” You roll your eyes, looking back out the window.

“Well I heard that someone has some very mixed emotions about her. One being hatred, the other being pure infuriating anger.” You start to laugh, it honestly hurts a bit to laugh. You were so sore. It made you want to cry… again.

“Does Lolly just tell you everything about me?”

“Well I asked. You two hang out a lot, so I figured she’d be best to ask.” He shrugs, again. And he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment, finding the only empty space. Your space. “And she told me, and I quote.” He picks up his phone, opening a texting screen. “She needs a break. She has been working under this yellow bag of walrus shit for the last two years without a single break for her own health and I am worried about her. Maybe you could convince her to take a break. I would probably kiss you if you could.” He sets the phone back down. “But we're going to disregard that last part because she’s my student, and I’m positive she was drunk.” You grit your teeth. It was definitely Lolly. Because you do unfortunately remember calling your boss a yellow bag of walrus shit.

“Yep. But I unfortunately cannot take a break.”

“Well, I’m not exactly a doctor, but I’d say your ankle is pretty messed up.”

“Well-”

“And I looked into it- You will get paid in your time off. She cannot fire you if you’re injured with a doctor or nurse note.”

“Well-”

“And I occasionally take over for the school nurse, so guess who wrote you a doctor note for your fucked up ankle?” You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say. “So. Grab your bag and head up to your room, and promise me you’ll relax and take care of yourself for a day?” Why was he even doing this? He didn’t pay attention to you before. You were always just another student and now he’s basically forging a document to give you a break? It just didn’t seem real.

“Okay…” You whisper, grabbing your back and opening the door as you step out back into the cold, and head straight to your room, which was in clear view from the spot he was in, so he sits in his truck, waiting for you to get inside before pulling away as he stays parked. But just as you set your hand on the doorknob…

“There you are!” Your neighbour. Of course, your fucking neighbour has to add to your most wonderful day. “Your dog won’t stop barking! She’s been yip yap and yip yap all day! I’m going to call animal control!” You don’t even own a fucking dog.

“Ma’am I-”

“You forgot your phone.” His voice makes you want to writhe out of your fucking skin. You turn around to see you professor holding your phone out, which you take slowly as he turns towards the lady. “Is everything alright ma’am?” You want to laugh. You and your exhaustion work together their absolute fucking hardest as you try so hard not to laugh at her words.

“Oh of course darlin, everything is fine. Just talkin to my lovely neighbour.” From the mean, stern, gritty yelling voice that you’ve grown used to, to a suddenly sweet old lady that sounds as if she takes care of butterflies and builds them new homes. You cover your mouth, genuinely struggling not to laugh, and you see the corner of her eye twitch.

“I thought I heard some yelling.” Barnes gently wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you take a deep breath, some confusion now etched into your features.

“Just some harmless bickering, nothing too much.” She looks away from Barnes, and looks down at you. “Have a nice day darling.” You can almost feel how hard her fucking teeth are clenched, and you give her a little smile. Apparently, she wasn’t willing to embarrass herself in front of handsome young men- er- your professor.

“Your neighbour is a dick too. Maybe you should get your dog something to distract it.”

“I don’t own a dog.” You both stare at each other for a moment, and you see him biting his cheek before he takes a deep breath.

“Go get some rest. I’ll see you next week in class.” He chuckles a little and stands there, watching as you half-awkwardly open your door, closing it behind you before you heard him descending the stairs, and you hear his truck roar back to life. A little relieved that you finally had someone on your side.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Pen Pal

Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader

Warnings: Slight mentions of homophobia

Summary: You've been Pen Pals with Ellie since you were in 5th grade. Will you finally get to meet her in person?

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

November 3, 2028 (10 yrs old)

Dear Y/N,

My name is Ellie. I'm a fifth grader in Miss James' class in Wyoming. I like Savage Starlight and cookies. My best friends' name is Riley.

Do you have a best friend? Do you like Savage Starlight?

Sincerely Ellie Williams

November 10, 2028 (10 yrs old)

Dear Ellie,

Hi! It's nice to meet you! I love Savage Starlight! My brother hates them though. He never takes me to buy them at the book store :(

My bestfriends' name is Julie! Cookies are cool! I like ice cream. I have a dog. Do you have a dog? Do you like frogs? I like the color pink. Do you like pink?

Sincerely Y/N L/N

June 20, 2030 (12 yrs old)

Dear Y/N,

How's your dog? Joel's teaching me how to play the guitar! I learned how to play a song yesterday! I'm so happy.

Riley and I are planning on going to the fair tomorrow. I wish you could come. I bet you'd love Riley! Maybe some day you could meet her.

I finished the new addition of Savage Starlight yesterday and I'm so fucking sad. Did you finish it? I won't spoil. Let me know if you did so we can talk about it!

Sincerely Ellie!

June 28, 2030 (12 years old)

Dear Ellie,

I have bad news. Pepper died.

She died last night. Mom said she got really old and died in her sleep. Pepper was a good dog. I'm going to miss her.

I'm really sad. I wish she was still her.

I haven't finished Savage Starlight yet. I'm waiting until I feel happy. Maybe in a few days.

Sincerely Y/N

August 3, 2032 (14 years old)

Y/N,

Riley's moving away. She came over and told me today. I'm really sad about it. She's been my friend ever since kindergarten.

She's moving to Boston.

I found an a cute ice cream shop yesterday and thought of you. Maybe some day you can see it. We could get ice cream there and then look at the comic book store.

I can't believe Savage Starlight is fucking ending. I've been reading it since fourth grade. I don't want it to end. How do you feel about it ending?

Love, Els

August 9, 2032 (14 years old)

Els,

I'm so sorry about Riley. That sucks. I hope you guys can still talk.

I'd love to go to the ice cream shop and comic book store with you one day. My brother went off to college today. He's studying to be a doctor. Cool right?

I don't want Savage Starlight end either. I wish it could go on forever. Fucking sucks.

I think you're my best friend.

Love, Y/N

September 12, 2032 (16 yrs old)

Y/N,

I won first place in the art show! I'm so fucking happy. Joel took me out for ice cream with Sarah yesterday. We had so much fun.

Do you think we should start using email? Or texting? Joel got me phone yesterday! I'm so excited! Here's my number if you want to text xxx-xxx-xxxx and my email: elwilliams@email.com

I've started working out at a local gym. I love it. I'm going every day. I think I might do something with space when I'm older. I really like space.

Also, I'm gay.

Love, Els

September 18, 2032 (16 yrs old)

Receiver: elwilliams@email.com

Subject: Hi

Els, this is my email! I'll send you a text right after this. I'm so happy for you! First phone yay!! Also congrats on the art show!

The gym is fun! And space is so cool! I'm not sure what I'll do yet when I'm older. I'm still deciding. I'm glad you know what you want to do though.

Also, cool! I'm glad you feel comfortable telling me! I love you, Els. <3

My brother's being a fucking asshole. He refuses to come to my birthday party because his girlfriend's parents want to have dinner the same day.

I wish you could come. Maybe some day.

Love, Y/N

May 2, 2034 (18 yrs old)

Receiver: elwilliams@email.com

Subject: So

I think I might not be straight. I'm not sure. I've only told you. I can't tell my parents. I don't know how they'd react. I know my brother would hate me. He's a fucking dick now. I don't know why he's the way he is.

My parents have started fighting a lot. Money problems I think. I think my dad might have cheated on my mom too.

I'm excited to go to college next year. I'm glad we got into the same school! We'll finally be able to meet. I've been wanting to meet you for years. Maybe I can finally get away from all the shit that's been going on lately.

I don't know why this all happened so fucking fast.

I hope you're well.

Lots of Love, Y/N

May 2, 2034 (18 yrs old)

Receiver: y/ncup@email.com

Subject: So

Hey, so I know how you're feeling. It'll take some time to figure out, but you'll get there. No matter what, I'll love you.

You're family sounds like a bunch of dicks. I'm sorry you have to go through that.

I've been talking with Joel and he said I could do this.

Do you want to come stay with me and my family over the summer? Maybe get a break from your family? We could idk finally fucking meet?

Let me know if you want to come to Wyoming. You could meet my friends. Then we could drive up to school together. It's not too far from my house. Maybe day or two away.

Also, I got a girlfriend. her name is Cat. She gave me this cool ass tattoo. I'll send a pic.

__Pic Attached__

Love, Els

My eyes scan over the email again, making sure I didn't imagine what I just read. Ellie just invited me to Wyoming for the summer! There's no fucking way I'm missing this opportunity.

I'm finally going to get to meet her!

My eyes land on the last line. I got a girlfriend.

Fuck.

[scarlettrose567]

MyHouse.Wad: What a fucking trip

Just finished MyHouse.wad. And goddamn, just goddamn. First of all, it is a fucking fantastic game let alone considering it's a free mod, easily on par with the original doom in terms of quality.

My overall impression is that this is a type of game that could ONLY come out as a mod. I mean, can you imagine say the next Call of Duty game where you can beat the whole thing as normal, but if you dig deeper it has a whole separate game exploring an endless house?

That all being said, two main gripes

The final fight was waaay too large/long, and if it was half the size it would be twice as impactful imo.

Ending is somewhat underwhelming, although that's somewhat inevitable since it's not going to straight up tell you what happens.

Oh yeah and 3) The labyrinth.

I love the idea of the labyrinth, however wish it was developed slightly more. I don't want there to be any enemies, but maybe a scrap of story or flavor would've been warmly welcomed. As is it's completely optional and you can't do anything apart from leave. However, it is indeed very unnerving (loved the touch of having the doors you open while inside being louder than average when they close by themselves).

Oh yeah, plus the blood appearing in the airport's bathroom did feel a bit janky/random and somewhat frustrating to trigger.

But in general it's all in the spirit of what it is trying to accomplish, and it absolutely excels in making you feel on edge, like the House is trying to get you to leave while drawing you in further and further.

But, you may be asking, what about the central mystery? What the heck is MyHouse.wad about anyway??

So, I won't rehash the exact wording (you can find that online easily enough), but to put it simply the creator of the mod is allegedly brushing up an old .wad file found in the floppy disc of a deceased childhood friend, and a journal as a word document plus some photos are attached to the mod when you download it.

Reading over the journal, a few odd section stuck out to me. He mentions that an old childhood friend passed away, and yet the very next day he writes "I never imagined that I would be saying goodbye to my friend so soon." Not something you would say about someone you only knew when you were a child, and hadn't been in contact with for years.

He starts working to restore and add things to the .wad he found. Over time, he becomes increasingly obsessed with it and it starts to affect his dreams.

He dreams about a house burning down, and finding a still born baby in the attic, of being hunted and finding refuge in a cave...

Something *very* strange happens on Dec 16. He seems to revert to a childhood persona, writing "it'll be nice to have some time away from the school", despite mentioning his job earlier, and "i'm sure they'll be a lot of fun and there wilL be plenty of laughter and good times". The day after he makes a comment about lack of sleep.

He dreams more. He dreams his reflection winks back at him, that he enters his bathroom mirror and finds comfort in that strange world.

He dreams he is in a car crash, then a plane crash. He survives the car crash. He does not survive the plane crash.

Valentines day: "Happy Valentines day to the only person I ever loved. For a short time, you brought a little happiness to this painful existence called life. I hope we can be together again one day. In the meantime… I’ll keep looking for that other someone who can be the ray of light in my life that you turned out to be."

He mentions how "After 13 years" he finally has the skills to finish the map, despite him mentioning he worked on it first 20 years ago with his childhood friend, according to the original description for the .wad.

He writes how the map is altering code by itself, growing when he's not looking;

"Without my guiding hand, the map doesn’t know what to build. But I can help it. Guide it. It seems to respond to my designs, changing them to match my emotional state. It knows what I’m feeling. It knows how Thomas felt."

He dreams of lying on a beach, safe and content, only to realize it is all fake. He writes about the agony of a heaven, and eternally being tormented by your own anguish, and how lucky his winking self is, to live a mortal life on a real beach, finding happiness in the small things he can control.

He finally publishes the mod, with no further entries apart from how he managed to publish a "safe" version. He won't allow the House to corrupt anyone else.

So, what to make of it all.

First and obviously, he clearly knew his childhood friend a lot more recently than his childhood, and the Valentine's Day strongly supports the fact they were partners - however, I do think they weren't in contact for at least a few years before his friend died. The "13 years ago" comment, plus the fact that items in the mod state "It was not to be" when picked up suggest that they were together for a time after, but then broke up. Both the crash and plane crash suggest something went wrong - maybe they fought, maybe there was an actual physical action - who knows. The airport section of the map further suggests that perhaps one or both of them traveled away from where they grew up? Moreover, the creator's comments about a "mirror version, happy on that other beach" suggests that maybe he made a mistake, and he's tormented knowing in another universe he could have been happy with his partner.

During the Brutalist area of the mod, you find two dogs - one completely harmless, the other a two headed monster that can kill you relatively easily if you aren't careful. But if you kill one, the other dies as well. Similarly, they can never meet each other. That could be a metaphor for their relationship - they couldn't be together, but couldn't bear being apart either.

However, there is of course a far darker possibility. A few items in the mod tell you "I want pop", and "The boy deserves a milkshake." This suggests a father-son relationship of some kind. Indeed, the very first area outside the house itself is a nursery for very young children, suggesting at some point he and his childhood friend adopted a child at some point. However, the fact that the house can burn down at some point, plus the constant dreams of disaster and the stillborn child could point to the fact that the child died somehow, possibly in a violent manner. If this is true, this would explain why they broke up, and why the original creator buried the memory - it was simply too traumatic to think about, until the death of his former partner forced these memories up to the surface, leading to him creating this mod as a coping mechanism. His comments about dealing with his own thoughts for eternity also suggest this - he could not bear to think about what had happened over and over and over again without being able to change anything.

The constant use of mirrors within the mod also tells us how much he wishes things had turned out differently - how he wants to live in a different dimension altogether, where this didn't happen, where he remained with his partner. The fact that if you leave the house without grabbing all the items might suggest they also sold (and potentially demolished) the house itself.

The house that can never leave his mind.

[27dragons]

Quiz Meme thing for people over 50 - via @gilajames

1. Name one body part that doesn't hurt: my elbow (who gets that reference? but really mine doesn't hurt. at least not today.)

2. Were you able to answer #1 because you have taken ibuprofen recently? Nope, I haven't been able to take ibuprofen at all for a few years now because I'm prone to ulcers. (I also haven't taken any tylenol/paracetamol, because it straight up doesn't work for me for pain relief. It lowers fevers, but that's it.)

3. Name one activity you are greatly relieved you don't do anymore because fuck that shit: change diapers and otherwise deal with any (literal) shit that isn't my own

4. Have you gotten at least eight hours of sleep in the past five days. (Not each night, just total.) Oh yeah, I average about 6.5 hours a night and on the weekends sometimes it stretches to seven!

5. Name one song that is NOT forty years old, what the fuck. The 1980s were, like, twenty years ago. Fuck you, the 80s were like, five years ago at most lol. That said: The Hamilton soundtrack, and also "Panic" by David Ford. Those are only like 10-15 years old.

6. Do you remember the last time you got carded (not counting 'we have to card everyone' places.) If we're not counting "card everyone" places, then I have never been carded. When I bought booze legally for the first time on my 21st birthday, they did not card me. Apparently I radiate an aura of "yeah she's old enough."

7. Name one musician that you keep hearing their name but have no clue what their music is. My Chemical Romance, I guess (I have a general idea what the music is but I don't know that I've actually heard it. I could be wrong about that I suppose but I definitely didn't know it.) I'm not really a music person, this is a lot of music questions for me.

8. Have the celebrities you loved as a kid started dying of old age? A few but not too many yet.

9. Have the celebrities you loved as a teenager started dying of old age? Same.

10. When did you start listening to the Oldies station? Another music question? I mean, I listened to the oldies station when I was in frickin college because I don't care about music and that was the station my boyfriend at the time liked. I really only listen to music in the car, and after I dumped that guy I switched to listening almost exclusively to tapes, CDs, and music downloaded to an iPod/phone.

11. Have you told a younger co-worker any form of the phrase "wait until you're my age/older/hit your 40s, then you'll..." Not really, though I've done the "wait until you have kids who are [age] thing to younger co-workers, and commiserated with co-workers of similar age about all the shit that hit us after 40.

12. Do you seek out older co-workers so you can quote something at them that they will get? Nope, because I am a work-from-home introvert. :D

13. Would you rather just stay home? At least 85% of the time, YES.

14. Have you reached the point that for birthdays, other gift-getting events, you say "I just don't need more stuff"? No, because I love getting gifts. When I was young, my mom told me she didn't care what was under the Christmas tree for her, she just loved opening presents. Seriously, one year when I was like 14 I got her a 6-pack of socks and wrapped each pair individually and she LOVED it. I thought she was crazy then, but I get it now. Anyway the only people who get me actual gifts these days are the Things and I'm not going to discourage them because they're so fun.

15. Do you often find yourself saying "I remember when" and you describe something so completely foreign to Life Today that you wonder if you made it up? All the FUCKIGN TIME

16. Did you look at this list at the beginning and hope it was a short quiz because you don't have time for those 50 item lists? Lol no because this counts as social interaction for me these days.

My fellow "old" tumblrs, join in the fun! (Or don't, I'm not the boss of you.)

[rhiandoesfandom]

I've been thinking a lot recently about my disability, the unknown autoimmune disease, and like what could have caused it.

And of course, it could have been spurred by Covid, or stress, or so many other things. But I am of the mind that it could have been caused by my obvious burnout from the above. From covid, stress, and college.

I took about eight years to finish my bachelor's degree. For many reasons. Financial, Needed a full time job and couldn't do both, couldn't figure out a solid major, etc. And once I restarted college at the university during Covid, since I had lost my job at Starbucks at the time, I wanted to go quick. I wanted it to be over with. I wanted to finally FINISH.

So I did full time school for a year, committed to a major and minor. And then my unemployment payments dried up after a year. So I had to do full time school AND a part time job. The job I chose wasn't that bad. I worked part time at a sex toy shop. Sure the company itself left little to be desired (playboy industries). But it was a cool job cause I got to "test out" the toys, (usually meaning like, on my hand, duh), and explain to customers how they could be used. And I felt like I was also actually using my degree during this. (Sexuality and Gender studies).

Then, my senior year I ALSO took on an internship at the Queer Resource Center on my University Campus. And that was an extra 16 hours a week. So effectively, I was juggling THREE JOBS. That, my part time job, and my senior coursework to culminate into a final research project.

You could say I was already within the throws of burnout, cause I was. But I was "keeping up with it". I was getting adequate sleep, I was still on socials, participating in hobbies, doing chores. I *thought* I was *fine*.

The biggest mistake I made, was when I graduated. I started applying to jobs AS SOON as I graduated. I felt this pressure to get more money, to live up to my degree, to contribute more to my household. Even though I was already paying my portion of rent and bills just fine with the part time job. And no one was asking me to do this. Not my parents, not my partner. Just myself.

After a few months, I did land a job. A state job. Applying my degree. It was exactly what I wanted. I quit my part time job. I Committed fully to the full time job (which was three months of mind numbing computer trainings first), and I was good at it.

Then six months in, I crashed.

I started having nightmares, waking up in cold sweats. I started having horrible joint pain. I couldn't think straight during the day and had horrible brain fog. And it only escalated from there. And being neurodivergent too, I was struggling to understand aspects of the in person office, and neurotypical people's attitudes and reactions. That didn't help.

Which brings us here. I'm on leave from the full time job on paid leave until the paid leave ends. And I don't know if I can even go back. From my constantly worsening disease, etc.

I don't really have advice to give, this was mostly a rant for myself. But I guess...if I had to give advice it would be SLOW DOWN.

Please for the love of the gods slow down. The grind mindset is fucking poison. You will hurt yourself. And if you think you won't, you're lying to yourself.

Another thing to add: Yes I acknowledge theres a lot of privilege steeped in this experience. This is just my experience and what I take from it in context of soul crushing capitalism.

[baileys-3]

CHAPTER 16 IS ONLINE on AO3

First things first: Thanks again to Cookies93 for beta reading. Who put in another late shift yesterday so that you can get your new chapter this morning.

Then maybe a few words about the current status. Chapter 25 is almost finished. But it was almost midnight yesterday and fatigue overwhelmed me. That's why I didn't manage to finish it. I'm currently at 130,000 words. And still in episode 5x11. There's a lot to write about there too.

By the way, I had to laugh a little. I had just finished writing the scene when Lucy asks Tim for tips for the Citizens' Academy. The scene where “Nothing” comes. When Tim is asked from Nolan what he did the night before. And if you look at Lucy while Tim is talking about the academy...well, she's gone and doesn't hear anything about what Tim actually says. And I just worked that into my chapter... shortly afterwards there is a post on Tumbl with exactly the same scene and the same comment. Sometimes it's nice when others see it that way too.

Sneak Peak:

Lucy wakes up the next day with cramps and immediately aware of the reason of said cramps. It’s her period. She always has these cramps on the first day. So, her the first she thinks is "Shit."

The second thought is "How did I ended up in bed?" And the third: "Where's Tim?"

One issue at the time Lucy! She jumps up from the bed and rushes into the bathroom, or rather straight into the shower. As the warm water runs over her body, she tries to work out exactly what happened yesterday. Did she fall asleep? She remembers that they were watching some documentary on the tv. She was in Tim's arms and then? Then nothing … She doesn't remember anything at all! Only that she got insanely tired at some point. Oh boy. Apparently, she fell asleep on a date with Tim. AGAIN! How incredibly embarrassing. She just can’t help it, she always feels so safe in his arms and somehow her heart must be saying "Just sleep Lucy. You are safe." It has never really happened to her before. She never fell asleep on the couch in her boyfriend’s arm.

But actually, it makes sense, because she's usually super tired the days prior to her period. And the last few days of dating, going to the bar and the overnight stakeout have probably taken more out of her than she thought. She was clearly behind on her sleep.

But that doesn't explain how she got to bed. She had just finished taking a shower and is in the process of drying off when she hears the front door open. It takes her about three seconds to finish drying before she starts to panic. SHIT! When Tamara sees the state of the couch and the two teacups, she will instantly know that someone had been over, and she will need to come up with a cover story.

Lucy quickly wraps her towel around her body and hurries out of the bathroom. As she enters the room, several things register in her mind all at once. Tamara is standing facing away from her, opening the fridge. The cups have been cleared away and the blanket is neatly folded over the back of the couch, while all the cushions are back in place. Oh, thank God for Tim and his tidiness.

Tamara turns around to sound of Lucy storming out of the bathroom, crossing her arms and lifting her eyes up and down in response at the sight of her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. How was the party?"

"Very good, I'd say."

Then Tamara points at her with one hand and waves it. "What are you doing?"

"Showering."

"I can see that. But what are you doing here?"

"Ehm. Tea... I uhh… I wanted to put some the kettle on."

Lucy goes to the kettle, picks it up and fills it with water, then switches it on. In the meantime, Tamara has turned back to the fridge and taken out a bottle of juice. Then she glances at Lucy again.

"And you just came up with that spontaneously in the shower, did you?"