#It was gonna be longer but I'm going to keep that until part 4 because I thought it was better to leave them at their very lowest here...

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime (pt. 4)

summary: logan goes to your apartment late in the night to make things right. finally. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader tags / warnings: angst - post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), no use of y/n. word count: 1.2k a/n: so i certainly wasn't going to go this route for this chapter (it was originally gonna consist of a lot of yelling and all of that, but there is a softness to logan and add this song... i just couldn't write it the way i originally wanted). but anyway! thank you to everyone who's read this story - it holds a special place in my heart. i think we have one more chapter left before i consider this complete! our bb logan deserves a happy ending and i don't think i can torture him anymore lol. stay tuned though bc i'm gonna continue writing more for this character (i'm so obsessed). song lyrics will be in italics btw song: you are the reason by calum scott prev. part - next part.

Of course it’s raining. 

Logan shouldn’t have taken his motorcycle, but he wanted to get to you as fast as he could. There aren’t that many cars this late at night, but he still does have to swerve between traffic to get to your apartment. He’s drenched by the time he approaches your street, parking his motorcycle on the first spot he sees along the curb. He strokes his wet hair away from his face as he feels the heaviness weigh on his chest – he doesn’t know if you’d even hear him out, but he has to try. 

It isn’t until he gets near your apartment that he realizes maybe coming to your apartment this late in the night wasn’t a good idea. But he stops in his tracks when he sees you step out, immediately getting drenched in your oversized crewneck and plaid pajama pants. Despite the heavy rain, Logan knows you’ve been crying. Can see the way you cross your arms over your chest as you bite down on your lower lip. He can hear your heart beating, can hear how you’re stifling your sobs, can hear you whisper over and over: I’m so tired. I’m so tired. I’m so tired.

He isn’t sure why you’ve come outside, why you’re standing in the pouring rain, but he knows that he wants to pull you into his arms. Logan slowly begins to walk towards you, careful not to startle you. As he gets closer and closer to you, Logan feels the sudden urge to reach out to you, to wipe your tears away, to tell you that he’s here. 

And that he isn’t going anywhere. 

You don’t hear him and you’re so close to just yelling, screaming at the top of your lungs and asking the universe why? Why did it take your Logan away only to bring some version of him back? A version that wanted nothing to do with you? 

Your hands curl into fists, tears streaming down your face, hair and clothes completely soaked. You’re about to turn back around to go inside because you feel that if you stay out here another minute longer, you’re surely going to lose it. And you can’t. Laura still needs you. 

And you still need to be strong for her. 

Just as you’re about to reach for the handle of your front door, you hear his voice. It’s quiet, but it’s loud enough that you can hear it past the rain. You feel like your heart is beating out of your chest when your eyes meet his. 

Time suddenly seems to stand still as you stare into each other’s eyes. You’re standing on your front steps with Logan on the sidewalk, gazing up at you. You can see the look on his face, the complete vulnerability that he’s displaying as he stares up at you.

All of his guarded walls are down. For you. Only ever for you. 

There goes my heart beating 'Cause you are the reason I'm losing my sleep Please come back now

Slowly, he takes a step closer to you and you do the same. Neither of you say anything, the sound of the rain encompassing the both of you. You feel so overwhelmed with emotion and just like earlier that night, you yearn to reach out for him, to just be pulled into his arms. 

Logan can feel his own tears pool at the corners of his eyes as he keeps his gaze on you. He deserves this. He deserves you. He deserves a second chance to make things right. To be happy. To be loved. By you.

And there goes my mind racing  And you are the reason  That I'm still breathing  I'm hopeless now

As you take a step closer to him, so does Logan. Now standing in front of each other, mere inches separating your bodies, Logan reaches up to cup your cheek. You let out a shaky breath and shut your eyes momentarily, leaning into his touch as you bring a hand up to wrap around his wrist. Logan inhales sharply, your touch electrifying him once more. 

When your eyes flutter open, Logan steps closer, head dipping lower… 

I'd climb every mountain And swim every ocean Just to be with you And fix what I've broken

“In every lifetime and in every universe,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your lips. “I’m yours.” 

Your hand tightens around his wrist as your other hand comes up to rest on his chest. Tears pool around your eyes as the rain continues to come down. “Logan…”

“And with every fiber of my being, I will always love you.” Logan clears his throat, resting his forehead gently against yours as he brushes his nose with yours. 

Your hand on his chest clutches the fabric of his shirt, pulling him flush against you. Logan’s hand drops from your cheek to rest on your hip, lips pressing lightly on your cheek. 

And if I could turn back the clock I'd make sure the light defeated the dark I'd spend every hour, of every day Keeping you safe

It isn’t until your hands move to wrap around his shoulders that Logan snakes his arms around your waist to pull you flush against him. He holds you tightly to his chest, burying his face against the side of your neck. 

This… This is where he belongs. With you. 

He lets out a sigh of relief and tightens his hold on you when he feels your body begin to tremble with quiet sobs. This is as much of a relief for you as it is for him. This is your second chance and while your Logan will forever hold a special place in your heart, you feel lucky enough to be able to get another chance with a version of him. 

The rain continues to pour down on the both of you, not bothersome in the slightest. Slowly, he pulls back enough to look down at you. His eyes move lower until he gazes at your lips and then back up at your eyes. Logan brings a hand up to rest on your cheek, gently brushing the pad of his thumb against you.

I'd climb every mountain And swim every ocean Just to be with you

“I’d love you in every lifetime,” you repeat from the first night you saw him. “And that includes this one.”

“I’m here,” Logan whispers. “I’m with you, bub.”

You nod slowly, bringing your hands to gently push his wet hair away from his face. Logan’s lips turn upwards as his lips brush against yours lightly and it takes everything in him not to just kiss you because he knows that you both have a long way to go. 

But he wants you to know that he’s no longer going to run. 

He’s going to be here, right by your side. 

Just like how it should be in this universe, in his universe, and in every universe out there. 

This was right where he belonged. 

'Cause I need you to see That you are the reason

“Logan?” you whisper, eyes gazing down at his lips.

“Yeah, darlin’?” 

“Kiss me,” you say quietly. “Please…”

Logan smiles, his hand splaying on the side of your neck as his thumb brushes against your jawline. Slowly, he shuts his eyes and leans in to press his lips against yours. 

Finally.

--

taglist: @its-in-the-woods @mynatureworld @wadewnstonwilson @squishyfruitloop @maybedisaster

@kellyxo1 @m1cky-y-y @flowersforbucky @namikyento

[imaginespazzi]

Part 7: In All My Victories

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

Somebody said you got a new friend (But does she love you better than I can?)

(In which a writer in an EST timezone uses the PST timezone to announce that technically she's still meeting the deadline)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy

Words: 6.5K

TW: Swearing, Toxic Relationships

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Listen it's past midnight here but it's only around 9 pm in California which is where most of this fic is set so TECHNICALLY I am still meeting my deadline. This chapter is kind of a filler (and I guess that's why I don't love it) because it was gonna be about ~3K longer with another scene but it was either a longer chapter or a Monday chapter and I feel like y'all would prefer a Monday chapter. I have not edited this yet because I simply just don't have the energy to so pretty please point out my errors as you read so I can use them when I edit some time tomorrow. There's probably other stuff I need to say but I'm feeling oddly delirious right now so I'll just end with the usual. Let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Paige wakes up to a stream of sunlight tapping at her eyelids and someone’s soft breath tickling against her nose. She can feel a tiny hand pressed against her chest -right above her heart- and the weight of another person’s fingers intertwined against her own. The room is silent with the exception of the clock ticking on the wall and the perfectly harmonized breathing of the other people in the room. Stephie and Azzi. And Paige is scared to open her eyes, scared to move even an inch, scared that if she does either of those things, her dreamlike reality will prove to be nothing but a hopeless mirage. 

It had taken Paige a moment last night to really register what was happening around her. Dazedly, she had followed Azzi up the stairs into the guest room. She’d watched, albeit unhelpfully, as Azzi had searched out extra pillows, setting up the queen-sized bed so it could fit three people instead of it’s regular duo. It hadn’t sunk in even as Paige had slowly gotten herself ready for bed, finding herself in one of Azzi’s old oversized t-shirts suddenly overwhelmed with how much she’d missed falling asleep embraced in the scent of the younger woman’s favorite lavender and eucalyptus deodorant. Even as she’d made her way back from the bathroom and found Stephie beaming at her from where she was curled into Azzi’s side on bed, Paige still felt like she was simply just watching everything from a facetime call, like she had been while back in Dallas. It wasn’t until Stephie’s bedtime story was finished and the lights were turned off, when Azzi’s hand finally captured hers underneath the comforter and squeezed gently, that it finally clicked for Paige. 

Azzi had asked her to stay over.

Azzi had promised she wouldn’t run away. 

And as Paige finally lets eyes flutter open, blinking to adjust to the light, she breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of a promise kept. 

Propping herself onto her elbow, she lets herself take in the view of the two people still sound asleep next to her. Paige isn’t a morning person by any means -rarely is she the first person to wake up- but she thinks if this was what she could open her eyes to every time, getting up could become her favorite part of the day. 

It’s uncanny how similar Azzi and Stephie are while sleeping. The little girl’s grip on Paige’s shirt is almost as strong as the tight hold her mother has on Paige’s hand. It’s like they’re trying to reel Paige into their world and keep her there forever, like even if she let go, they wouldn’t let her. There’s an air of contentedness on Azzi’s face as she snuggles closer to her daughter and Stephie has a soft smile at being cocooned in the protection of her mother’s arms. And Paige’s whole body aches a little bit because this bed they’re on is definitely not made for three people, but it’s nothing in comparison to the way her heart feels like it might burst from this feeling of and maybe this is how i become whole again. 

She presses a kiss against Stephie’s forehead and rubs her thumb against the back of Azzi’s hand before carefully detaching herself from the duo and slipping out of bed. The whole house is still clearly asleep as Paige lethargically brushes and then begins to make her way down the stairs. Her eyes gloss over the pictures placed across the stairwell until they fixate on one that has her in it. It’s an image taken after one of many water fights they’d had at the Fudd household during a hot summer day. Life had been so simple back then when it was water and not bullets that they shot at each other. 

Five drenched children are beaming at the camera. Jon and José are posed in some ridiculous stance, their water guns pointed at the camera. Paige, par for the course, is flexing, a far too cocky smirk dancing on her lips because she’d probably won the game (even if nobody else agreed). And then there’s Drew and Azzi. There’s a familiar pang in Paige’s chest as she brushes her fingers over her little brother’s exuberant smile. He’s latched onto the brunette’s back, a blue water balloon in his hand, as Azzi uses one hand on his hip to keep Drew in place and uses her other one to hold a pink water balloon of her own. The Fudds -Azzi- had been as big of a constant in Drew’s life as they had been in Paige’s and she wonders now, as she thinks back to her little brother’s irritation with her joining the Valkyries, if he’d ever forgive her and Azzi for taking that away from him. 

“Oh hey good morning,” Tallulah says as Paige lets herself into the kitchen, blanching slightly at the sight of the other woman. 

“Good morning,” Paige greets, pouring herself a glass of water as she takes a seat at the island, “guessing you’re making pancakes?”

Tallulah nods with a grin, “Stephie’s orders you know.”

“Ah of course,” Paige laughs, “can’t defy the queen.”

She watches as Tallulah prances around the hardwood floor, grabbing bowls and ingredients, like it’s her kitchen and Paige can’t help the twinge of envy that blooms in her bloodstream. It used to be her. She used to know the Fudd’s kitchen -the whole house- like the back of her hand because really, like Katie always said, it was her home too. But she doesn’t quite know this place, couldn’t tell you where to find the sugar or where the utensils were kept and that stings more than she’d expected. It spirals Paige into the thought that she wouldn’t know any of those things at Azzi’s own house either. And suddenly she’s struck by the reminder that two people who’d once promised to build a world together, had spent the last couple of years, building two separate ones instead. 

“Hey,” Tallulah breaks Paige out of her trance, “you good.”

Paige musters up a smile, “yeah- yeah of course. Just- just thinking a lotta things I guess.”

“They’ve all missed you, you know,” Tallulah says softly, “they try not to do it too much around Azzi but it’s always ‘oh Paige would’ve loved this’ or ‘did you catch that bucket Paige made last night’. And whenever the Wings were playing here, it was a no-brainer that they would go.”

“Yeah?” tears prickle against the blonde’s waterline. 

“Yeah,” Tallulah confirms, “Tim lowkey lost his mind before you got here last night. Poor man was running all over the place making sure things were good. Katie thought it was pretty hilarious.”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, “that sounds like them-”

“Miss Buecks,” a tiny voice interrupts her before she can say anything and Paige whirls around to see a teary-eyed Stephie looking at her from the last step of the staircase, her bottom lip trembling and panic courses into Paige’s bloodstream

“Stephie,” she practically trips over herself as she rushes to fold the little girl into her arms, “sweetheart what’s wrong?”

Stephie nestles herself into the blonde’s neck, mumbling something incoherent as she holds Paige impossibly tight. 

“Stephie,” Paige whispers frantically, concern dripping from her voice, “tell Miss Buecks what’s wrong please. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me sweetheart.”

“Thought you left,” Stephie confesses finally, keeping her head burrowed against Paige’s shoulder, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up. Got scared.”

“Oh honey,” Paige whispers, as she gently coaxes the little girl’s head out from the crook of her neck so she can cup her face, “I’m right here. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Stephie’s quiet for a second, hiccoughing to herself as she searches for something on Paige’s face before she holds out a pinky, “promise you’ll never leave?” 

Paige hesitates, the words sitting heavy on the tip of her tongue. It’s not that she doesn’t want to but Paige has learned first-hand about the fragility of the future, about how true the cliché about time changing in the blink of an eye can be. Because the truth is that it’s not just Azzi who’s scared. Paige is terrified. She’d drowned in this ocean once before and as she tries to swim in it again, she can’t quite find it in herself to shed her life-jacket by making an oath that she can’t guarantee to protect from the dangerous tides of circumstance.

And so she hopes it’s enough for Stephie as she caresses the little girl’s cheeks and says, “I promise I’ll try to stay.”

“Okay,” Stephie says softly and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, “I trust you Miss Buecks.”

Paige smiles, giving the little girl a kiss on the cheek before hoisting her up onto her lap, “did you wake your Mama up?”

“No. She’s still snoring,” Stephie giggles. 

Paige laughs, tucking that little tidbit away to tease Azzi with later, “how about you and I go get your Mama her favorite coffee?”

“Oh that’s nice,” Tallulah chirps from where she’s still standing in the kitchen, “go get coffee of course. Why would anyone stay here and help me?”

“Go ask uncle José,” Stephie shoots the younger woman an unamused look, “isn’t that what husbands are for?”

Paige stifles a grin as Tallulah narrows her eyes, waving her whisk menacingly at Stephie, “he’s not my husband yet and you watch it missy or maybe I won’t let you be a flower girl at the wedding.”

“Your wedding would be boring without me,” Stephie scoffs, “besides Aunty Tully, we’ll get you a drink too. Uncle José always says you drink vod-ka, too much of it app-ently, but I don’t know what that is,” she turns to Paige who’s gone bright red in attempt to stop herself from keeling over with laughter, “can we get vod-ka for Aunty Tully?”

Paige tries her best to compose herself, “maybe we’ll just get her a latte and save the vodka for later huh Tulls?”

Tallulah glares at her, flipping her off when Stephie’s gaze shifts towards the door, “just go get the coffee Bueckers.”

***

Not that she didn’t know it before, but Paige quickly realizes just how similar Stephie is to her mother while they’re standing in front of the bakery portion of the coffeeshop and it’s been ten minutes and Stephie still hasn’t decided which sweet treat she’d like. 

 “Stephie sweetheart,” Paige says, only slightly impatient, “how about the double fudge brownie?”

“That sounds good,” Stephie says excitedly and then her eyes dart towards the cinnamon bun in the corner, “or maybe the ninnamon bun- no wait- Aunty Tully’s gonna put ninnamon in the pancakes so maybe something else. Ooooh maybe a cookie but which one?”

Paige groans to herself as Stephie busies herself looking at the assortment of freshly baked cookies. The old woman over the counter, wearing a name tag saying Ruthie, shares a commiserating smile with her. 

“My daughter was like that too at that age. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life,” Ruthie says, a fond look in her eyes while talking about her child. 

Paige smiles, “did she ever grow out of it?”

“Well considering we went out to dinner last night and she couldn’t pick between the pepperoni and the sausage, I don’t think they really grow out of it,” Ruthie winks and Paige can’t help but think about Azzi and the way she’d struggled to pick out what to wear to bed last night, staring helplessly between two shirts that practically looked the same. 

“Oh I know that look,” Ruthie says, eyes twinkling at the hopeless smile on Paige’s face, as she tilts her head towards Stephie, “you’re thinking about her mother huh?”

“That obvious?” Paige blushes. 

Ruthie shrugs, “what is love if it can’t be seen by everyone?”

Love. The word seeps into Paige’s veins, traveling up her bloodstreams until it claws its way into her heart, settling against her ribcage like a rock so that when she breathes, it’s all she can feel. It’s too soon, she knows, and it defeats the purpose of going slow except- it’s not soon at all. Because this isn’t a new feeling, it’s a far too familiar old one that she’d buried as deep within her as possible but is now yearning to get out. It had never gone away, simply lingered in the back of her mind just waiting for this moment. And if she’s honest with herself, Paige doesn’t know if she should fight against it or let herself ride the waves of the before that are desperate to crash against the shore of now. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines, “come help me choose.”

Shooting Ruthie an apologetic look and ignoring the pit in her stomach at the elder woman’s words, Paige walks over and bends down to the little girl’s height, “how about a chocolate chip cookie?”

“Boooooring,” Stephie crinkles her nose. 

“Peanut butter?”

“I’m ‘lergic to nuts Miss Buecks,” Stephie says matter-of-factly and Paige pencils that important fact into her mind’s ever growing list of all about Stephie.

“Salted caramel crunch?” 

“That sounds good,” Stephie nods, “yeah I’ll get that,” she says as she turns to Ruthie, “could I get a salted car-mel crunch cookie please?” but Paige doesn’t miss the wistful look she sends towards the rest of the cookies. 

“Stephie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to get you one of each?”

And she’s absolutely going to get a disapproving glare from Azzi when she shows back up at the Fudd’s with almost a dozen cookies in hand but it’s worth it for the way Stephie immediately latches onto her thigh, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face. 

“You’re best-est-est-est Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, staring up at Paige with delight. 

“I know,” Paige smirks, “and you better protect me from your Mama when we get back.”

Stephie nods very seriously, “of course Miss Buecks. I’ll protect you with my life.”

Paige ruffles the younger girl's hair before turning to Ruthie who’s grinning at her, “one of every flavor of cookie you have please. Except anything that has nuts.”

“Coming right up,” Ruthie winks at Paige, “your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger huh?”

And maybe Paige should at least attempt to correct the misconception but as Stephie clings to her just a little bit tighter, she can’t find it in herself to say anything but, “yeah, yeah she does.”

***

“Next time you kidnap my daughter, can you at least send me a text?” Azzi says, a grin on her lips as she opens the door to let Paige and Stephie enter back into the Fudd household. 

“Good morning Mama,” Stephie says happily, launching herself into her mother’s arms and placing a sloppy kiss against her cheek. 

“Morning sunshine,” Azzi laughs, “you seem giddy this morning.”

“Miss Buecks bought me six-teen cookies and she let me eat two of them while we were dri-” Stephie pauses mid ramble, eyes widening as she dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth. 

Paige groans as a glare overtakes Azzi’s previously smiling features, “Steph what happened to protecting me?”

“It was an aksy-dent Miss Buecks I’m sorry,” Stephie whimpers, hurriedly cupping her mother’s face, “please don’t be angry at Miss Buecks, Mama. It was my idea.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I bet it was. But if you already had two cookies, you must be full? I guess that means no pancakes for you-”

“Miss Buecks forced me to eat the cookies,” Stephie cuts her off and Paige gasps at the betrayal, “not full at all Mama because you can’t get full unless you like what you eat and I didn’t like those cookies at all. So I neeeeeeed pancakes.”

“Traitor,” Paige hisses at the little girl who shrugs sheepishly. 

Stephie shoots her an apologetic smile as Azzi hides a grin against her daughter’s hair, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I really, really want pancakes. I’ll die if I don’t get pancakes.”

“Okay drama queen,” Azzi chides fondly as she puts Stephie back on the ground, “go get your pancakes,” and then she rounds onto Paige with a patented glare. 

“I got you an iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,” Paige says before the younger woman can say anything, practically shoving the cold drink into her hand. 

“Sixteen cookies? Paige seriously?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she sips at her coffee. 

“You didn’t see her Az,” Paige defends, “she looked so sad when she couldn’t decide.”

“Just because she looks sad doesn’t mean you buy her every single cookie to make her happy,” Azzi shakes her head exasperatedly. 

“I’d buy her the whole shop if that’s what would make her happy,” Paige says, sincerity weaved throughout every word of the sentence. 

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Azzi says softly, a hint of awe in her voice, “you’re kind of a sap Paige Bueckers.”

“Only for you and your daughter Azzi Fudd,” Paige whispers, leaning her head against the younger woman’s temple, “only for the two of you.”

They stand there like that, barely touching beyond their foreheads, yet basking in a certain kind of intimacy that they’ve only ever found with each other. The thing is, Paige’s senses are always heightened, every part of her always alert of what’s going around her. Except when she’s with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi she can let the noise fade to the background and let everything else become a blur and simply just be with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi, she doesn’t have to worry; doesn’t have to have her sword out ready for battle because she knows the younger girl will always be her shield. When she’s with Azzi, Paige is safe. 

They’re shaken from their reverie by a cough in the background and Paige reluctantly looks over her shoulder to see Jana regarding them with an amused look. 

“Guess I missed a couple of chapters?” 

“Shut up,” Paige grinds out, annoyed as Azzi moves out of her space, “what are you doing here so early El-Alfy?”

“I’m here for breakfast because I’m basically an honorary Fudd,” Jana throws her head back before yelling, “RIGHT KATIE?’

“Right Jana,” comes the muffled confirmation from the kitchen as Jana smirks at Paige. 

“The better question Bueckers,” the Egyptian prods with a smirk, “is what are you doing here so early?”

“I slept ov-” Paige bites her tongue but it’s too late as Jana’s grin gets wider and next to her, Azzi lets her head drop into her hands. 

“You slept over? In which room?” Jana asks innocently. 

And of course Stephie chooses exactly that moment to catch wind of the conversation, yelling from the kitchen, “she slept with me and Mama, Aunty J.”

“Thank you for telling me Stephie,” Jana’s eyes twinkle with mirth as she pulls out her phone, “oh I’m about to make some money- hey!”

Azzi snatches the phone out of her younger teammate’s hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips as she starts walking towards the kitchen, “no phones at breakfast thank you!”

“That’s not fair,” Jana whines sauntering after the GSV shooting guard, Paige snickering as she follows the two of them into the kitchen. 

“Life’s not fair. Deal with it,” Azzi glares before slipping Jana’s phone into her own pocket, “you can have it back before you leave.”

“Y’all are so mean,” Jana sulks, pouting harder when she reaches out to grab a pancake and immediately has her hand whacked by Tim.

“That one’s for Paige,” the older man warns sternly and Paige sticks her tongue out at her teammate as she grabs the pancake onto her place. 

“WHAT?” Jana guffaws, “what’s so special about it?”

Tim shrugs, “absolutely nothing. Just thought it would be funny to see you annoyed.”

“Y’all are the worst adoptive family a player could have you know that?” Jana scolds, pressing her fists to her cheeks like she’s barely older than Stephie, “and to think I was gonna invite the two of you,” she glares at Paige and Azzi, “to a party.”

“Party? Can I come?” Stephie asks excitedly. 

“Unfortunately this one’s just for adults kiddo. And it’s not really a party,” Jana explains, “me and Joyce thought it would be nice to do a little team-bonding, especially for you P. Drinks at the bar next weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Paige confirms, “we’ll be there!”

“Oh it’s ‘we’ now is it?” Jana teases, “you guys gonna come together?”

“No,” Azzi says at the same time as a profound “yes” leaves Paige’s mouth. The two of them stare at each other with questioning looks and Paige feels a heavy pit settling in her stomach. Rationally, she knows Azzi’s probably right. No part of going slow includes going to a party with their teammates together, especially not when they’re trying to keep whatever it is they’re doing on the down low. But there’s something about being a secret again, that raises a bitter taste of what killed us then could kill us now in her mouth. 

“Awkward,” Jon whistles slowly, only to be met with a simultaneous slap on the back of his head from both his mother and Tallulah. 

“I mean- I would have to drop Stephie off here- or umm- at Colleen's so like- logically- practically- uh- it um- it wouldn’t make sense for us to go together,” Azzi says and Paige has to refrain herself from calling it a bullshit explanation. 

Instead she gives the younger girl a tight-lipped nod, “right yeah-wouldn’t make sense for us to go together. Obviously,” gritting her teeth and desperate to change the topic, she turns to Jana, “will the whole team be there?”

“A couple of them aren’t currently in the Bay but yeah most of them,” Jana shrugs. 

“Oh,” Stephie claps excitedly, “will Aunty Chérie be there? Is she back yet?”

Paige narrows her eyes as both Jana and Azzi exchange looks, “who’s Aunty Chérie?”

“Aunty Chérie’s the best,” Stephie gushes, “she’s really nice and pretty and she calls me ‘mon chérie’,” the little girl does her best attempt at a vaguely french accent and realization starts to claw at Paige’s mind, “so I call her Aunty Chérie. She’s Mama’s best friend on the team.”

Paige tries and fails not to grimace at the sentence; the idea of anyone else being Azzi’s best friend feels like nails being screwed into her skin. 

“I’m your Mama’s best friend on the team,” Jana butts in, trying to rescue Azzi from the hole her daughter’s about to dig her into, glancing worriedly between the two former huskies who are doing their best not to look at each other. 

“If you say so Aunty J,” Stephie concedes, “but you didn’t answer my question. Is Aunty Chérie back?”

“Yeah she- um Clémence I mean- is coming back for a little bit next week so um-” Jana swallows, clearly not having thought the uncomfortableness of the situation through, “yeah she’ll uh- she’ll probably be there.”

Stephie lets out a whoop of excitement and Paige feels it burn a hole in her stomach. She knows she has no right to be upset at the idea of Stephie being as enamored by another one of Azzi’s teammates but something about it makes her feel queasy inside. Because Clémence Martens isn’t just a teammate. Paige doesn’t know the exact history there; she’d never had the right to ask about it but she’s seen the way Clémence looks at Azzi and she knows she doesn’t like it one bit.

“I thought Clémence was being traded to Atlanta?” Paige keeps her voice low as she leans into Jana. She’s not sure if Stephie knows the news yet and despite the jealousy that’s blooming in every crevice of her body, she doesn’t want to hurt the little girl by accidentally announcing it to her, “why’s she coming?”

Jana sighs, “Joyce invited her cause she was gonna be in town. You know they don’t know about-” the taller woman gestures between Paige and Azzi, “-all of this so. It’s just for one night Paige.”

“Right,” Paige nods, eyes locking with Azzi’s across the table as the younger woman fidgets with the ‘S’ necklace around her neck and shoots Paige a timid attempt at a reassuring smile, “just one night.”

***

August 2028

USA 68         France 64

The entire arena is abuzz for the final 20 seconds of a grueling semi-final match between the storied USA Women’s Basketball team trying to keep their dynasty alive and a vindictive French team eager to avenge their last heartbreaking Olympic loss. France has possession of the ball, shot clock turned off, and Paige has been tasked with guarding Clémence Martens. The woman in front of her, a bench player for the Golden State Valkyries,  had never seemed like much of a threat to Paige when they’d met during the W season, but seemed to have become a whole other beast when representing her nation. Clémence is currently leading the French team in assists and is only behind Gabby William in points. Paige keeps herself glued to the woman as she tries to get herself free for the inbound. 

The inbounder realizes after a couple of seconds that the French coach’s advice to get Clémence the ball wouldn’t be possible and instead the ball ends up in the hands of Iliana Rupert instead. As gameplay resumes, Paige does exactly as she’s supposed to and she can tell that she’s getting under the French woman’s skin as Clémence curses to herself in her native language. Paige bites back a smirk, secretly pleased at having riled her competitor up. The ball continues to pass around the French players, time ticking away, but the USA’s defense doesn’t allow a good shot until Gabby throws up a miraculous jumper with a second left on the shot clock. 

And of course, in a way that’s perhaps too reminiscent of how France had lost in 2024, it goes in. 

But it’s not enough and Paige feels blood rush to her ears as the entire arena, decked out in red white and blue, roars with triumph, celebrating the world's greatest team returning back to the finals stage. There’s still one more game but this win is special. They’d been down by 11 points at the half and Paige could almost picture the headlines ready to write themselves about the streaks that could be broken if they lost. But she was no stranger to the pressure that came from playing for a team with a deep history and it had been her and Stewie, partially motivated by their former college head coach frowning at them from the sidelines, that had spear-headed a 23-3 run at the beginning of the 3rd quarter. The USA women’s team hadn’t looked back since and now they were one more step away being golden again. 

“You did it,” Olivia screams, running into Paige’s arms as friends and family start to gather on the court, “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks Olivia-” Paige is about to say more when the familiar back of someone’s head catches her attention and, like they always seem to when she’s around, all the words die on the tip of her tongue. 

Azzi. 

Paige could’ve sworn she’d seen the woman in the crowd at some point but she’d chalked it up to a trick of the light manipulating her eyes into seeing what her heart desperately wanted. But as she watches the woman she’d once imagined celebrating all of her victories with, slowly brush away the tears of someone else’s loss, Paige can’t help but wish that it had been a trick of the light after all. She feels suffocated and she can’t tell if it’s from how tight Olivia’s holding her or if it’s because Clémence is burying her head into the space between Azzi’s neck and shoulder, a space that Paige used to mark as hers. And then Azzi looks above Clémence’s shoulder. Dark brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears as they lock onto watery sky blue ones. They’re standing in other people’s arms and they really should look away but how can they when looking into each other’s eyes feels a little bit like finally coming up for air. And Paige realizes that what she’s really being suffocated by is the regret of you’re supposed to be holding me and i’m supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us. 

Azzi lets go of Clémence first, soothingly rubbing the francophone’s back as she makes her way over to congratulate the USA team, starting with Cam and Aliyah. Paige pulls away from Olivia, oblivious to the way annoyance flits across her wife’s features as she catches sight of Azzi. No one but the blonde notices how hesitant Azzi’s steps are, how she carefully pauses a little longer than necessary with everyone else until she finally reaches Paige, managing to give her a small but sincere smile. Olivia wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep and the blonde fights the urge to shake it off when she notices Azzi’s eyes flickering to it for a brief second before coming back up to her face. 

“Congratulations Paige,” the formality in Azzi’s voice feels like acid pelting against Paige’s skin, “you were really good tonight.”

“Thank you,” Paige smiles politely, “it was pretty stressful there for a second but I’m glad we got the dub. But it um-” she hesitates, unsure if she should say the next part, “it would’ve been nice if you were out there with me- with us I mean. We could’ve used your shooting.”

“Maybe next time,” Azzi gives her a half-grin. 

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Olivia says airily, sharp nails digging a little too roughly into Paige’s skin as her grip tightens further, “there’s plenty of talent up and coming in the next 4 years.”

This is a side of Olivia that Paige is only just beginning to unveil, the side of Olivia that makes snide bitchy comments with a saccharine voice. And Paige really should let it go at this moment, make a mental note to speak with her wife about it later instead of jumping in. But she can see the insecurities brimming in Azzi’s eyes and the words tumble out before Paige can stop them. 

“Yeah but no one better than Azzi.”

Olivia stiffens, “right unless she’s injured or pregnant or something. You’re prone to those right?”

“Olivia,” Paige hisses. 

“I didn’t mean it offensively,” Olivia feigns innocence and a bitter mix of irritation and anger coils itself around Paige’s ribcage, “just something to think about.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before a sugary smile, laced with poison, inches itself onto her face, “I’ve only been pregnant once and I haven’t been injured since college which I would expect someone in sports media to know but,” the brunette’s eyes flash dangerously, “I suppose that’s something someone with national media credentials would know, not just a mere local beat writer for Dallas’s fifth most read newspaper,” Azzi turns to Paige, sarcasm morphing into something far more genuine, “congratulations again. I’m really happy for you Paige.”

***

The Reynolds-Bueckers hotel room is a pathetic hot mess that night. Olivia’s livid at Paige and Paige is livid at the stupid #Clézzi tag on tiktok. She’s no stranger to fan edits and she’s definitely no stranger to ship edits and so when the first tiktok appears on her for you page, she knows better than to click on it. She knows better but she does it anyway. And suddenly she finds herself sucked into montage after montage of so-called moments between Clémence and Azzi that fans had noticed and documented. The clips are bad enough themselves but it’s the captions, bold declarations of look at the way she looks at her; no one can love azzi the way clémence loves her, that really piss her off. Clémence might look at Azzi like she’s made of stars but Paige knows that she looks at Azzi like she is the moon, Paige’s moon. As Olivia’s anger bounces off the walls, her rant about disrespect starts to mesh with the audio of the edits that continue to play on the blonde’s phone and Paige wonders if this her God-designed personal hell. 

“Are you even fucking listening to me Paige?” Olivia yells, forcing Paige to look up at her wife. 

“What do you want me to say Olivia?” Paige asks tiredly. 

“What do I want you to say? Well nothing now Paige. She said all of that shit to me and you were silent then so I’m not expecting you to say anything of meaning now either.”

“You’re the one who poked her first-”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Olivia laughs maniacally, “you’re really gonna do this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige protests. 

“You’re defending her,” Olivia yells, “you’re my wife and you’re defending her. You’re defending your ex. Can you seriously not see what’s wrong with this picture.”

“Olivia,” Paige sighs, eyes gazing down at her phone where another fuckass Clézzi edit has started to play and she rapidly scrolls past it, “it’s been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. I have practice tomorrow and the gold medal game-”

“Right fucking basketball. Again,” Olivia rolls her eyes. 

“What-”

“It’s fine,” Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose, the fight draining from her voice, “you’re right go to bed. I’m not- I’m not feeling great so I’ll sleep out here tonight. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want you to get sick before the gold medal game.”

“Olivia,” Paige says half-heartedly, taking a timid step towards the woman in front of her.

“It’s fine,” Olivia says, “just- just go to bed Paige.”

Paige knows that the last thing she should do is actually listen to her wife. And she knows that if it was Azzi -she hates herself for even thinking this way- she wouldn’t walk away. If it was Azzi, Paige would’ve pulled her into her arms, held her there and made her talk because they both hated going to bed angry. But well if it was Azzi, this whole situation wouldn’t exist in the first place. 

And so she ends up in bed alone, still scrolling through random tiktoks in an effort to not have to deal with all the voices in her head, until suddenly she stumbles on a video captioned and at the end of the day she’ll still always be looking at her. It’s a video taken today. Paige is holding Olivia and Azzi’s holding Clémence but they’re staring at each other. And Paige thinks that whoever wrote the caption, had probably gotten it right. At the end of day, she’ll always look for Azzi. She just doesn’t know if she’ll find her ever again. 

***

USA 102         Australia 73 

Paige can already taste the feeling of a gold medal around her neck as she takes a seat, the crowd roaring with applause as Coach Lawson empties her bench. There’s only fifteen seconds left in the game and her knees are bouncing in anticipation, ready to celebrate a moment she’s been dreaming of for god knows how long. Paige scans the crowd, not even pretending to look for anyone but Azzi and she can’t help the smile that erupts on her face when she spots the brunette with her fingers crossed, a brilliant grin directed in Paige’s direction as she mouths i’m so proud of you. 

Olivia isn’t here, claiming she was too sick to come tonight. Paige thinks she probably should be more upset about that. She thinks the whole thing is probably a ruse that Olivia had concocted to get Paige to beg her to come, to get Paige to show her that she wanted her wife there. The other woman's face had fallen when Paige hadn’t really reacted to the announcement, simply pressed her lips to her forehead and mumbled a feeble hope you feel better before leaving. Paige thinks this is probably the first sign they're falling apart. She thinks she should probably care about that a little bit more too. 

But the first thing her eyes had landed on once she’d entered the court, was Azzi’s face in the lower bowl and everything else had ceased to exist. Her first petty thought had been a ha! fuck you to the damned Clézzi shippers who claimed Azzi wouldn’t show up today, too busy consoling Clémence. They didn't know Azzi was all-american. Her second thought, the one that felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around her soul, was that of course Azzi’s here. Because Azzi had been there every time Paige achieved a milestone and even if they were barely a shadow of what they used to be, it's only right that Azzi is still here. 

Australia doesn’t even bother taking a shot, bowing out gracefully and the buzzer rings. 

The entire arena bursts into confetti and music as the USA Women’s Basketball Team clinches yet another Olympic Gold Medal. 

Paige doesn’t know who she’s hugging, lost in a sea of red uniforms as she feels herself floating through her teammates. They end up in a huddle, screaming and she can barely make out who’s saying what but it doesn’t matter. The chaos has never felt so fucking cathartic.

As everyone else disperses to find their families, Paige’s eyes land where they always seem to: on Azzi. And maybe she shouldn’t do it, maybe she should think again but fuck it Paige Bueckers is an olympic gold medalist and she’s going to share this moment with the first person she’d ever won a medal for this country with. Her legs move of their own accord, walking and then running and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she realizes that Azzi’s moving towards her too. 

“You did it. Oh my god Paige you did it,” Azzi squeals as they crash into each other in the middle of the court, her arms instinctively going around Paige’s neck as the blonds wraps her hands around Azzi’s waist, “I’m so fucking proud of you. I knew you could do it Paige.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Paige breathes out, “I just- it wouldn’t be the same winning without you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften, “I came for you. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that but- I’m here for you.”

“Good don't want you to be here for anybody else,” Paige tightens her hold on the younger woman’s waist, “we’re gonna do it together next time okay. You and me, we’re gonna be golden together.”

And they both know that they’re saying words they shouldn’t say. That when they break apart from this moment, they’ll have to walk away. But for now, being in each other’s arms is the only thing that feels right, that feels golden.

[1-800-local-slut]

Word of Advice...

Spencer Reid x Black! Fem! Pregnant! BAU! Reader

Spencer Reid Masterlist <3

Spencer and his fiancée are having a baby, and everyone has some advice for them.

I based this on JJ's pregnancy in season 4. This is basically the three times someone gave Spencer some advice about being a dad and his fiancé some advice, I cried writing this because of hormones y'all

Warnings: pregnancy, brief mention of sex, mention of a daddy kink, nothing really, fluff, twins

Request are also open if anyone wants to send anything!

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"You know, no matter how much you research it won't help when you have to actually hold the baby."

Spencer's head jerked up from his computer, no longer fidgeting with his nails and glanced over to Derek. Tabs upon tabs of information distracted him for the past hour. 'What to do as a first time dad', 'When to Start Expecting Cravings', 'How to Prevent Diaper Rash', 'Baby-proofing 101' and more.

The office buzzed softly behind him, other agents bustling around. It was a cool morning, nice and bright but had all the cold spring air Spencer had grown to love with the early call time of his job. Hotch was up in his office, Rossi was currently in the bathroom attempting to battle some sort of meal his stomach didn't agree with, Emily called in sick, JJ had a doctors appointment and wouldn't be in until later and Penelope was busying herself with some random task.

"Sorry, what?" Derek chuckled, his eyes ran over the mess on Spencer's desk. All of his case files, the parenting books he'd bought, the cups of coffee littering the area. How was this guy gonna keep his house clean with a kid running around in it?

"Morgan is right, even though he should be focused on his work. A word of advice, its good to get into the habit of picking up as you go along. Helps in the long run, you know." Hotch appeared from nowhere, in typical Hotch fashion with words of wisdom.

It was true. Spencer Reid, at the age of 27, got his girlfriend fiancée (he was still getting used to the title) pregnant. He got her pregnant, and then all the initial joy and imaginary world where everything would be perfect everything came slightly faded for him. He suddenly remembered him and his fiancée work a hard job with hard hours and an even harder toll on the mind. But he'd been trying not to focus on that, instead just trying to stay on the constant upside.

"Well yeah. I guess coffee cups all over the place aren't gonna be helpful in trying to keep the place tidy." Spencer chuckled, tapping one of the coffee cups on his desk with a random pen.

"I’ll say. You know your girl isn’t down with the nonsense, you better keep that house spick and span if you want to keep your ass clear of a beating. And if she's gonna be the one stressing with child care it'll be safer is you just stay clean and out the way.” Derek lamented. Hotch chuckled and Spencer glanced down at his hand while he grinned.

While he wouldn’t normally wear his engagement ring to work, they weren’t in the field today (hopefully) and he may have forgotten to taken it off this morning when they decided to stay in bed for an extra 45 minutes to sleep soundly. So what was the harm in wearing it? It was a little bit of his home life he would let seep into his daily life.

"Isn't it a little bit too early for you to be looking at all of this anyways? I mean I guess it's technically never too early but she's only what a month a long?" Derek asked, settling himself to sit on the corner of Spencer's desk.

Derek pushed an empty chip bag out the way, as he had settled on the one clear part of the desk. Spencer instinctively grabbed the bag and tossed it into the small trash bin he kept under his desk.

"It's never too early! I figured the better I prepare, the better I'll be able to help out when I'm home. I want to take as much paternity leave as I can, I want to be helpful when I'm home with her." He really should be attempting to clean. A stack of papers straightened, coffee cups gathered into one hand and tossed into the bin two at a time.

"Word of advice..." Hotch grimaced, as he tapped a coffee cup that sloshed and Spence had to grab to keep it from spilling all over his desk. "If you keep your desk as clean as you intend to keep your house, she'll be sending you back to work faster than you can imagine." With a ghost of a smile, Derek chuckled and ruffled Spencer's hair. Hotch smirked, seeing Spencer's mouth hanging open, and the two decided to take their leave to go back to doing the jobs they get paid so much for.

It was true, Spencer is usually a very clean guy but sometimes things get a bit messy. And usually, his fiancée wouldn't mind as long as it wasn't too outrageous but pretty soon those pregnancy hormones would come in full force. A shiver went down his spine as he imagined facing her anger at him leaving piles of books and coffee mugs all over the living room with a chubby baby sat on her hip. Picking up the last few coffee cups, Spencer straightened up his desk once more and finally tried to focus on work.

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"Morning JJ, you want some coffee?" Of course, I was joking. The joke was that JJ (who had recently returned from her maternity leave) was pleased that she could drink coffee again. If anyone bounced right back from pregnancy it was Jennifer Jareau. She looked flawless, glowing even more after her pregnancy. I can only pray to have that same miraculous recovery.

I couldn't drink coffee, the smell making me sick now. Of course I already couldn't have it, you know growing a baby, but it was far easier to resist the temptation.

A job like this has you running on caffeine, quitting cold turkey was like stopping cigarettes over night. Now I settled for some decaf tea, like peppermint or lemon and ginger.

"So, how's things going for the first term?" JJ chuckled, as I placed my spoon down on the counter and blew on the tea. This morning was some hot apple cider with cinnamon and I had a nice everything bagel on the side with some cream cheese spread over it.

"Well I've had too pee every sixty seconds, my tits are expanding with every second, and everything I eat makes me gain forty pounds thanks to bloating. So, great." The happy mood I had this morning was gone. I got to work and suddenly I wanted to put my fist through the steering wheel. And for some reason, Spencer's aftershave was making me want to cry. He just smelt so good, and he looked so good driving us to work, and lately he's just so handsome. Maybe it's knowing that we were about to have a bundle of joy?

"Mood swings getting you, huh?" JJ chuckled, turning around and heading to her desk as I followed behind.

"I'm ready to stop coming in now, I don't know how you were here up until you gave birth. You literally went into labor, I'm ready to go home now. Right now." I scoffed, and grumbled in irritation. I was even ready to stop wearing heels to work.

It felt like at any moment, I would just explode. That extra 45 minutes of sleep helped very, very little.

"Well, a word of advice, positive self talk is so helpful. I don't know why but when I was pregnant everything Will did drove me up a wall, I'm talking I wanted to take down his side of the bed only." JJ chuckled as we approached our desks. I slid into my seat, chuckling. JJ threw down her jacket, a push present from Will, and stretched.

Across the bull pen, Derek and Penelope walked past giggling about something. The two of them thick as thieves like always. The Sun had fully risen, and the world was wide awake. Cars honked outside, the team was wondering around on the floor and of course with no reason to be in the field today it was time to hunker down.

Sit down, do some paper work, the whole 9-5. I couldn't focus on the 9-5 though, hormones driving me to run into my fiancé's arms. To smell him, to hug him and remind him just how much I love him by showering him with hugs and kisses.

"How would you even take down his half?" I laughed as a blew on the cider and opening the file on my desk.

"I was looking at chainsaw's on Amazon, I had a plan I just needed to do it." JJ shrugged, opening her own case file and looking up at me through her lashes.

"Listen, my point is, you just have to try to talk to yourself. You're mind is vulnerable right now to all sorts of crazy emotions. You might suddenly hate everything about Spencer. You can randomly wake up and decide you hate him, you hate yourself, you hate the way your house looks, and that you should just take your baby and run away but you have to remember to keep yourself grounded in reality." With a soft sigh and took a sip of my tea, glancing over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't about to hear what I was about to say.

"I'm having the opposite issue with Spencer. I want to like, live in his skin." Was I ashamed to admit it? No. Was it slightly embarrassing to say it out loud? Yes.

"Oh! Okay! I mean, if that makes you happy!" It would make me very happy. Happier than this bagel was presently making me.

"No but I mean it. The mood swings will get worse as your first trimester goes on, you have no idea. Just try talking to yourself as often as possible, journal. Take care of yourself."

"Okay okay, I will. Thanks JJ, you're the best." With a shared smile, it was finally time to get some work done. Or just finish my bagel. Yeah, I'm just gonna finish my bagel.

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"No, mom you need to stay in the house. Yes, she's home with you, you will be fine. I saw my fiancée this morning, I don't miss her that badly in the two hours I've been outside. I'm at Target mom. Okay. Love you, bye mom."

Finally off the phone, Spencer slid his phone back into his back pocket. Diana was there for a visit, something she begged Spencer enough that she wore down his negotiating skills. So she got out of the ward for a fun few days.

And yes, Spencer did love the time he got to spend with his mom. He was more than happy to have her. But preparing for a baby, his fiancée either soul crushingly sad or horny or showing him things for their baby because in four months she'd be forcing it out of her body, and keeping your mom on her meds and your fiancée on her prenatal meds...sometimes a man needed to go to Target.

Sometimes a man needed to make breakfast, intentionally finish the milk and eggs, and suddenly have other errands that needed to be run outside.

Pushing through the aisles of Target, they all blended together. Everything just seemed crazy now. His fiancée was pregnant. She was pregnant, and their baby was coming in four months. She was nesting now, according to JJ.

When they found out she was pregnant she remained logical. She mapped out each important date, each doctors appointment, and left major shopping for a bit later. Spencer was the one buying mountains of books, crying over the minuscule things. Now though, she was crying over the little things, waking up with insane cravings (his favorite one to be woken up at 2:47 in the morning over? Buffalo sauce. Not like, buffalo wings. Buffalo sauce by itself but it needed to be hot and in a bowl and when Spencer protested she looked ready to rip him in two), and each day was filled with 'Spencer look at this, Spencer we need this, Spencer we HAVE to have this for our baby or we're shitty parents, Spencer, Spencer, Spencer.'

He was in heaven.

His wife couldn't get enough of him, literally sniffing him like he was a big ass pile of coke, his mom was over, it was almost time for their gender reveal (which Emily and Rossi somehow ended up in charge of planning but whatever), and he would be a literal daddy. Not in the sense that she called him but in the actual way.

Without even realizing it, he was in the baby section. His feet basically dragged him there. There was a little onesie, which would be the perfect size for his baby, a pair of baby booties randomly placed near by. But the couple made a promise to themselves, they wouldn't buy anything without each other unless they literally had to have it for their baby. Like the really cute onesie that Spencer found with a little 'R' on the front. 'R' for Reid. Soon they'd be Mr. and Mrs. Reid. Their baby's last name would be Reid.

His fingers ran over the soft cotton fabric of a pink onesie, that had the cutest little flowers stitched on the toes. He pictured it for a moment, a little chunky light skinned baby with curly hair and dark eyes. Brown eyes and chubby cheeks for his/her mommy and daddy to bombard with kisses.

With soft little fingers and little toes. With big eyes filled with innocence that was Spencer's job to guard, that he already knew he'd lay his life down to protect in a heart beat. A baby with a tiny heart beat that he'd be honored to hold. His baby. Their baby together that they made together.

Spencer didn't know when he started moving again, or when he weaved through the groups of people making their way around Target, but he was now on his way to the front and suddenly stopped in front of the cribs.

A large wooden crib with pretty little birds carved into the side. A mobile hung over the soft insides. There were some pillows inside and a mattress inside that looked nice and soft. On the left of it, a white crib, nothing on it but it looked nice and sturdy. And he knew they could probably find some nice designs to put all over the sides.

"First time?" A deep, scratchy voice pulled Spencer from his thoughts. It was an older man maybe 15-20 years older, with his wife standing close to him. Their cart was filled with toys and an abundance of blue. Blue onesies, blue bottles, blue pacifiers, blue toys, blue bibs, blue blankets, blue teething rings. If it was blue, it was in the cart. Clearly not their first time.

"Yeah. I mean, yes, my fiancée. She's pregnant." The smile and blush of happiness that came whenever Spencer told anyone came back. Heat filled his face with joy. Not nerves or anything just pure joy. He wished she was there with him. He wished she was with him looking at the cribs and holding his hand while they looked around. The couple chuckled at how pink he got before the wife began to speak.

"Word of advice, crib shopping without her is a good way to start a war. If he went crib shopping without me for out first I would've murdered him." People say such crazy shit when they don't know you're in law enforcement. Spencer knew she was kidding and couldn't care less but sometimes he wondered how different everyone around him would act if they knew he was FBI.

At work, when he walked onto a scene wearing that jacket with the letters big yellows letters on the back people steered just a bit more clear of him. I mean the FBI is literally the FBI. If he was a normal ass cop he'd be a bit intimidated as well.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she'd do the same thing. I'm just looking right now though. I don't want to do any part of this without her." Spencer would never be this open with strangers but some strange part of him, maybe the part that wished he had grandparents, had him telling this couple with kind eyes. And he of all people knew not to judge a book by its cover. Sometimes it was the nicest looking people who committed the most vile crimes.

"Oh, sometimes you'll have too. Of course, you would never make that choice but take it from 40 years of marriage and 38 years of parenting: sometimes you have to make the calls on your own. It doesn't seem likely now, but as a father you may have to make the best call for your child if your partner is unable to make any sort of choice." Huh.

He never thought about that. Well he should've. He's seen marriages torn apart (usually by the most stressful situation possible, your child being kidnapped or murdered or something) because of one parents choice. Usually it being glancing away for one second. But what if his kid needs something while she's out cold? Maybe she's fast asleep and his kid wants to go outside or something. God forbid it's something far more serious, Spencer would have to make a choice.

Maybe. Who knows. But it was true. Sometimes, Spencer would need to make a choice on his own. And although they promised to make any and all big choices together smaller things would require an adults attention.

The realization was too clear on his face because the man chuckled.

"I'm Clive and this is Judy, it was lovely to meet you young man." He extended a hand, and Spencer took it, returning the firm handshake.

"Spencer. It was nice to meet you too. Thank you for the advice."

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Music was one of the most emotional things in the world. It connected people, spoke to people, saved people. Right now it was destroying me. Right now, I could only hear my heart beat and the Billy Joel song that was wearing me down. The song had me in tears.

I was sitting at our bay window, Diana was watching Judge Judy and sitting calmly after she took her medication this morning with her breakfast. I had a blanket thrown over my legs, a pillow behind my back and my headphones strapped over my ears. She was softly breathing, clutching a pillow to her chest and fidgeting with the soft fringes around the edges of the pillow. From here, she looked a bit like Spencer, eyes focused on the screen with her head tilted slightly to the side. How much would our baby look my me? Or Spencer? Or even Diana, maybe his father or my parents? Anything was possible.

The soft rain pitter-pattered on the window and it just added to my mood. Was I sad? Was I happy? Bitter-sweet was the right word. How would I feel as our child grew before my very eyes? As I watched my baby get bigger with each passing moment? Before eventually they stood on their own two feet and walked completely on their own? I whimpered, an ache in my chest. Each day would be a beautiful reminder of what was to come.

I tried my hardest to keep it down, lest I bother my baby's grandmother. Oh god, grandmother. Diana would be a grandmother. The dam broke all over again and I buried my face in the sheet that was thrown over my knees

"A word of advice," I perked up when Diana's voice added to the mix of music, muffled sobbing and Judge Judy screaming at some random lady.

"When I was pregnant with Spencer, I was all over the place. I kept it to myself, I felt alone. I felt that because I was off my medication my feelings weren't normal but they completely are. Keeping my feelings inside, that turned into stress. Then resentment. For myself, for my husband and sadly for Spencer. Try talking to Spencer about your issues instead of letting them fester."

She read me like a book, what the fuck. Okay I hadn't been the most inconspicuous with my crying BUT dang I wasn't expecting that. I was actually planning to go into the bathroom because I didn't intend to disturb her. Something about being and FBI agent meant emotional constipation. Therefore, I didn't want to talk about my feelings on a deep level, and I did not want a whole thing to be made of it.

But Diana didn't look at me. She didn't turn around and look at me with pity or understanding, she didn't stand up and attempt to hug me, she didn't try questioning me on what was wrong. She just said it. She said it, blue eyes trained onto the TV as a commercial for mesothelioma played. I did my best to wipe tears from my eyes, and from down my face. Perhaps it was time to do away with the music. But in a way, I didn't want this feeling to end. I wanted to feeling to stay. The bitter-sweet feeling washing over me like a blanket. My heart hurt in the best possible way.

"Thank you Diana. I'm not upset, just...feeling things." With a chuckle as I wiped my eyes rubbed my no doubt puffy eyes.

"Well. As long as you're feeling something." Her eyes glued to the TV screen as Judge Judy came back on.

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"Hi everyone, thank you for coming. I just wanted to say thank you for coming to our lovely couples baby shower, Lord knows we all expected to be here sooner." Derek chuckled, raising his ginger ale to us, as we sat perched on the couch next to Rossi's pool. Chuckles and laughter went up all around us, Spencer laughed into his Pepsi. His smile lines crinkled under his sun glasses. God, he just looked kissed by the Sun. God (if there was one) took his time. He took his sweet ass time sculpting each little crease, crinkle, each hair on his head. And it truly paid off.

"Now, if the parents will just come to the front, we'll have them figure out the gender." Finally, Jesus. I loved Derek. I do! But my God could the man talk. And talk. Then talk some more. Maybe it was just the heat bothering me.

It was a sunny day, not too hot though just hot enough to annoy me. People in pink and blue bathing wandered around, Hotch was lounging in his blue swim trunks, Jack standing next to his dad and asking him a stream of questions (he was in that stage) had a the funniest amount of hot pink I've ever seen a child have on.

The wind gave a gentle breeze that offered slight reprieve from the heat as JJ and Will sipped virgin pina coladas from fun sippy cups in their matching pink swim suits. Henry was left with the rest of the kids in the play area with the baby sitters (the same company I planned on using for our wedding) and he arrived in a precious little pink ensemble with pink little sunglasses and sun hat.

And Penny, who could ever forget the darling Penny, who was coming back from the bathroom, with pink hair dye and basically everything else on her body. Even pink eyeshadow. I felt put to shame, thinking my all pink get up was a lot. Spencer had on a blue buttoned up shirt only for the sake of possible opposing sides.

Emily and Rossi (the only people who knew the gender) both wore black swim suits as they sat at the bar. Both giving us no clues at all to the babies gender. Honestly, this entire thing was a bit too big for a regular baby shower.

But we weren't setting any forest fires. Just spending a lot of money on our first child. And with the money we make, of course our children would be pampered each step of the way. No expense needed to be spared. And Spencer, easy going as it is, allowed me to handle the planning for our baby shower (as much as Emily and David allowed me) along with planning our wedding.

The bar, custom drink menu I created, the baby sitting company for all of our friends to bring their kids (honestly this is a small practice run for our wedding), catering company, the pool toys, the kiddie pool Rossi let us set up, and the goodie bags. And Spencer showed up, looking perfect as usual.

Rising to his feet, Spencer gave me a hand and pulled me up from my seat. We waddled (I waddled, Spencer pushed through the small crowd) through the waves of folks who came to see us today (or just came for free food) and eventually climbed to the front.

Looking out at the sea of faces, I almost cried again. I felt Emily place a palm on my shoulder and I wiped my tears before they could fall down. She handed Spencer and I both ice picks, Rossi directing the videographer and the photographer (a personal gift from him). Two black balloons, held in place by David and Emily.

Two black balloons that held out entire future. Two black balloons meant more to me than I thought was humanly possible. My heart beat pounded, as Derek said something about a countdown. The crowd began counting down from ten, as if a countdown was enough for the most important moment of my life, my hands getting sweatier by the moment. Spencer gripped my hand and I glanced over.

Ten...

And I realized then Spencer was terrified as I was.

Nine...

But we were terrified together.

Eight...

And we'd feel everything together from the moment this baby came

Seven...

No matter what happened, no matter how many faces we saw before us right now, it was Spencer and me, and our baby. And maybe one day, more of our babies.

Six...

My soon to be husband, and my child. My eyes welled up again, and Derek made a joke about mom crying early. I'd have to curse him later for being so funny. Our little family was no longer just him, I, Diana and my parents, who were in matching blue outfits watching in anticipation.

Five...

My tears and heart beat combined sounded like the ocean thrumming in my ears and Spencer chuckled nervously and stared down at his flip flops.

Four...

Almost...

Three...

Almost right at my future, the rest of my life.

Two...

Jesus just get to one!

One...

I nearly froze from fear but pushed the ice pick into the balloon, and a sprinkle of pink fell over me. I screamed, my heart soared and I jumped onto Spencer with joy and people clapped an cheered. My mom screamed, literally sobbing as she fell to her knees.

A girl. A girl, to love, and care for, and teach. I wouldn't have cared, either way I wasn't worried but I had always wanted a baby. To have a girl. To love a daughter was truly a gift.

Spencer stood stalk still, like he was a statue and he a terrified grin crossed his face. I saw Rossi nod as Derek chuckled. There was a man holding up a sign, right in front of us with a giant '2' written in pink. Right in front of Spencer, no matter he saw it first.

"Uh oh, Dad's looking a bit- oh my god, oh my god!" And Spencer was flying backwards into Hotch and Rossi.

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"Oh, you can see him start to look a bit pale right there." Penelope narrated to his mother, who they were showing the video too on face time. Spencer was now sitting up right on the living room couch and sipping a ginger ale with trembling hands.

Spencer Reid was having twins. Could his life get any better? What did he ever do to deserve this much happiness? His head hurt just a bit, mainly from when he slipped off the couch after being set down and cracking his head on the floor but this was really happening. It was real.

Suddenly he felt a familiar presence. There she was holding two of his children inside of her and staring up at him with the most gorgeous eyes. She was gorgeous, even more so with the knowledge he had now, and he didn't even know it was possible.

He couldn't help himself, the tears filling his eyes as his mother and Penelope suddenly ended the call and she excused herself gracefully (the internet in the home was shitty, so she'd probably be calling back within the hour) and now he felt tears rushing down his face. She smiled at him, so softly that he couldn't even speak.

"I love you." She whispered as she drew her face closer to his and pressed a kiss onto his forehead.

"I love you too. And I love them." The words whispered, just for the two of them.

Well. The four of them.

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The end! I cried a lot during this for no reason lol. I literally bawled my eyes out, I'm suffering from massive baby fever. Anyways, I hope you all like this one <3

[peaxhygirl]

𝙰𝚁𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙳𝙾 𝙰𝚁𝙴𝚃𝙰𝚂 𝚇 𝙵𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙻𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁 - 𝚅𝙸𝙲𝙴 (4)

: ̗̀➛𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝙱𝙻𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝙾𝙲

: ̗̀➛𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: [WARNING] There is smut present in this chapter.

: ̗̀➛𝙰𝙽: This is also long, maybe longer than part 3-- I may have over indulged. Hope it doesn't suck!!

Raven laid in her bed doing a mental recap of the night. How had they gone from fighting like cats and dogs, to not speaking, to her being on the verge of begging him to fuck her on the spot just to relieve that dull throb he'd stirred up.

Every thought she had of the night made her feel like she was right there on that dance floor all over again. She could still feel the scruff of his beard tickling her cheek, and it reignited the goosebumps on her skin. She'd been constantly going back and forth about what would drive him to do such a thing. Constantly trying to explain away his actions so she could get some peace of mind and go to bed.

She was coming up with nothing. "You know what, I'm just gonna go ask him." She spoke to herself before rising from her bed. She took one step forward before puasing to look at herself in the mirror. "Girl, no the fuck you not."

The soft knock on the door of his bedroom caused Armando to sigh in annoyance. "If it's Dorn, it's too late to talk about techy shit. If it's Marcus, I don't want to hear about something you weren't even going to tell me, man." His words were met with a brief silence before the door began to creek open.

He didn't move from his position, laid on his back with both hands behind his head. He was relaxed, which was a very rare occasion, so he wasn't going to break that. He simply turned his head to not see either of the men, but to his surprise Raven slowly stepped in.

Even in the shadows and moonlight that seeped through the window, her face was still gorgeous. He eyed her briefly. Noting that she only wore a large t-shirt that read "Ken's Mojo Dojo Casa House." Whatever the fuck that meant. "Come in, blackbird." He rasped.

His eyes were trained on her, this wasn't the same woman. She was more timid than usual, softly closing the door and coming to sit on the edge of the bed near him. "Why do you keep calling me blackbird?" Her face softly contorting in confusing. "Because your name is Raven, genius." He smirked.

Raven stared at him for a moment, how was he so casual with everything that'd happened tonight. She had a million questions, and she couldn't think of a single one to start with. "I--I'm sorry for calling you a drug dealer. That wasn't a nice thing to say to someone who's trying to turn their life around." Not only was her demeanor different but so was her voice, it was soft, almost as if she was scared to break the silence of the night.

A warming balm spread across the male's heart. In his life he hadn't gotten many apologies, even when he was clearly wronged. So, hearing this from the same women who threatened to pull her gun out on him just a few days ago was surprising yet appreciated.

Raven on the other hand couldn't deny that this was a beautiful man. That Lowery DNA was something special. She studied each of his features thoroughly in the darkness of the room. Those thick and defined eyebrows accented by dark curly lashes always caught her attention. She hadn't realized how hard she was staring until Armando cleared his throat, ripping her from her trance. "I appreciate that, but tell me, little one. Did you just come here to apologize?"

With that simple question her throat grew dry and her face hot. Why did she come here? What was this going to accomplish? She'd spent ten minutes arguing with herself about this and not once had this crossed her mind. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, what the fuck was she supposed to say?

Armando sat up from his position, his bare muscular chest visible to her doe eyes. "Nah, I know that look. You're looking a little needy right now, baby." His hand gently gripped her chin while he observed her face.

She was practically spewing pheromones all over this room. "Just say the word and I can fix that for you. Cause God knows I've been fantasizing about these lips since we left that club." He spoke to her in the sultriest tone she'd ever herd. His rough thumb pad pressing into her lip and pulling it away from her teeth. His body was now on autopilot as he moved closer to her. Closing the gap between them. Thier lips inches apart, close enough to just gently brush together as his spoke. "Can I take care of you?"

The woman had no audible response, only leaning forward to fully close the space between their lips.

The kiss between these two was much like their dynamics. Feverish, rough, passionate, and yearning for more. Armando wasted no time stripping Raven of her clothes, delighted to see that she wore noting under her shirt.

The dress she wore that night had done no justice compared to the masterpiece of her bare body. "Just relax, baby." His voice was muffled while he kissed along her inner thigh. His eyes darted from her anxious face to the beautiful pink junction between her legs. Just looking at her he could see her juices coating glistening folds.

He licked over his lips before offering her the same release. His tongue traveling up her center. The soft moan that filled the space when he'd brushed against her swollen bud was music to him, it was a sound he'd commit to memory for the rest of his life.

And Raven, poor Raven had lost all of her bravado. Hell, Armando was sucking it out of her- literally. He licked and sucked along her pussy, teasing her when he'd rotate his tongue just around her clit but not fully attaching his mouth to it, not giving her the suction she'd kill for. "Eres la cosa más dulce que he probado en mi vida, nena." "Armando." She was breathless, doing her best to get out her words as her chest heaved. "P-please."

"Please what?" He questioned with a sinisterly teasing tone. "You want more?" His words were followed behind him plunging two of his thick fingers into her. Immediately, her warm walls squeezed him as his pumped his hand. "Oh god." She cried, moving her hips to meet his motions. Finally, Raven took the moment to gaze down at the male who was already staring at her in hunger. "That's right baby, be a good girl and ride my fucking fingers." A shiver ran down her spine at his words, he was going to drive her insane. "Armando, make me cum." Finally gaining some of her wits back, Raven reached down, locking her fingers into his dark hair pulling him back into her center.

Her assertion of her own dominance in this moment caused Armando's rock-hard length to ache even more as happily obliged. Diving back between her legs. This time, his lips finally wrapped her throbbing bud, sucking roughly and swirling his tongue. His fingers continued their assault on her sopping hole. Curving upwards slightly to gently press into the spongy space of her g-spot. She wouldn't last long with this combination and they both knew it.

Her hips writhing against him, pushing herself farther on to his face. "F-fuck Armando. I'm about to c-" She hadn't even been able to finish her statement before her orgasm hit her like a ton of bricks. He felt her contracting around his fingers, her clit throbbing against his tongue as he continued to lap her at juices until this wave of ecstasy subsided. It'd honestly knocked the sound out of her.

Seconds felt like hours to Raven. The pleasure that shot through her body was something no other man had made her feel. She basically had to pry Armando's mouth from her sensitive core feeling breathless, but he only smirked in pride at the whimpering bundle of nerves he'd just turned her into.

Raven sat up on her elbows, still breathing heavily as she glanced down at his exposed erection. She couldn't help but be mesmerized as he stroked himself. He was beautiful, long, thick, and veiny. She gazed up at him through her eyelashes to meet a lustful stare before turning over to all fours. She positioned herself in an arch that left her head flush to the mattress and her pussy and ass propped in the air exposed to him. "Well." She smiled innocently. "Show me what 'cha got."

That was all he needed to hear from her. He wasted no time positioning himself behind the ass that was as beautiful as he thought it would be. He stared down between the two. Watching as he drug the thick pink tip of his length through those slick folds he'd certainly be tasting again. He took a moment to apply the slightest pressure to her entrance before sinking into her.

She fit around him like a glove, squeezing and engulfing him in warmth and wetness. For Raven, he stretched her walls so deliciously she almost started to drool.

Both of them moaning in unison.

Slower strokes started their passionate session, Armando knew he wasn't small by any means and wanted her to comfortably adjust before things truly got started.

The wet sticky sounds of him slowly working into her were pornographic. With growing speed, he felt her grow better. His hands gripped her hips, thumbs digging into her soft skin as the slapping sounds of their bodies colliding together grew louder. "Joder." he growled, his head tilting back with slightly parted lips and closed eyes.

Raven couldn't believe how wet she'd grown; her arousal coated the inside of her thighs and even created a wet spot on the bed below them. Her body was rocked by Armando's powerful thrusts, damn her being sore tomorrow. She'd enjoy whatever he had to offer now. She allowed herself to come up a bit, moving her hips back to now meet his thrusts. "Throw that shit back, mami. Let me see what you can do." A challenge mirroring her own was all she needed. Immediately Raven began to throw her weight back into him, her ass bouncing off was a sight he'd be storing in his memory bank for a lonely night. Their mixed calls of pleasure and obesities filled the room along with the occasional smack of the ass he gave her.

Eventually. they ended up in a position where Armando was kneeling behind the woman who was practically seated into his lap as she bounced. Armando's large hand tangled itself in Raven's hair, yanking her head back to look at him. The sight of her flushed cheeks and a slight sheen of sweat present on her skin drove him crazy. And fuck did she fit him snugly like she was made for him. Not releasing her, he began animalistic thrusts that caused her to bellow out. "Shit.' She cursed. "Cállate, pequeña. Despertarás a los demás."

His own voice was laced with the need to release. Something they both felt coming once he began to throb inside of her. "Fuck, are you about to cum? Please cum in me, I wanna feel it. Please. I wanna feel you." Her begging cut the last remaining shred of control he had. His thrusts becoming sloppy, short, and shallow as he worked towards his own orgasm. One hand stayed tangled in her hair while the other squeezed at her double D breast and pinched at her hardened nipples. As soon as Armando felt the tensing of his abdominal muscles, he also felt the release as he shot his warm load into her. Raven experienced her own secondary orgasm, their bodies already in sync. Her fingers had been working at her clit, but they both knew it was him coating her walls that threw her over the edge.

Heavy breathing filled the room, neither one of them daring to pull away from the other. Armando placed a kiss on the woman's head. Her hair already starting to curl back up. It took a moment, but eventually Armando managed to pull himself and Raven from the bed. Cleaning them both because he'd honestly worn her out. Her attempt to return to her own room was met by Armando following behind her, stating that she might as well put that bonnet on and get comfortable, because he'd be sleeping with her for the night.

𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

"Eres la cosa más dulce que he probado en mi vida, nena." - You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted, baby.

"Joder." - Fuck

"Cállate, pequeña. Despertarás a los demás." - Quiet down, little one. You'll wake the others.

[callsign-muffin]

Heal Together: Chapter 6

(Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw fic)

Sorry this chapter took much longer than usual. I wasn't sure if I wanted to share this on the page but y'all might already know... I'm a nurse. So my schedule is nice because I only work 3 days or nights a week but... sometimes those days/nights knock me on my ass. This week was no exception.

I really appreciate every single person who has liked, reblogged, and commented on my work. It means EVERYTHING to me. I hope you all enjoy this part!

Masterlist + Playlist

Word Count: 2.2k+

You had been flipped to nights this week and your body was suffering from the sudden change to your circadian rhythm. You and Carly walked to the parking garage in exhausted silence together as the sun rose over the hospital. It was a hard night to say the least, you both were assigned to unstable elderly patients that seemed to be circling the drain. It almost felt cruel to keep them from dying peacefully because there was no way they were ever going to get better. The life sustaining care you were forced to give was just prolonging the inevitable. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, Bradley tried to text you when he woke up at 5am for work to ask how your shift was going. You quickly responded that it was crazy and that you couldn’t talk until you got off at 7:30.

Bradley Bradshaw: Please tell me you’re out of there and able to see this incredible sun rise

You: I am, thank God! I love San Diego sunrises

“Who’s that?” Carly peered over at your phone and saw the name, “Oh my god! He’s checking in on you post shift?!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s his second time checking in on me, he texted me when he got up earlier but I said things were too crazy on the unit to talk.”

“What happened between you two then?” She asked, “You said he didn’t stay the night or anything.”

You knew she was going to ask for more information soon enough. You two were on your feet caring for your patients all night so there was no time to catch up at the nurse’s station. “He didn’t. But we hung out for a while, talked, drank a lot of wine, and he couldn’t drive himself home. So he took an Uber and then took me to brunch when he came to pick up his car.”

“He didn’t kiss you?” She asked.

You shook your head, “Nope, didn’t after brunch either.”

“Huh,” she looked puzzled, “He’s obviously so into you, we could all see it at the bar. And he took you out on a date. And he’s texting you first thing when he wakes up… he obviously likes you. Why hasn’t he kissed you?!?!”

You shrugged, “I mean, maybe he isn’t and he just wants to be friends. I also feel like dating a former patient probably breaks some kind of nursing ethics code.”

It was something that occurred to you after brunch with Bradley the day before, the possibility of this flirtation messing with your professional life.

Carly’s face dropped when the two of you stopped at your car, “Oh my god… I hadn’t even thought of that.”

You shifted your weight uncomfortably, “Yeah… so I’ve gotta ask you and I’d like you to pass it on to Madi and Sam too, not to discuss Saturday or my… friendship with Bradley at work.”

She nodded, “Of course, I’m sorry I even brought it up briefly when we got on the unit last night.”

“It’s okay, no one was around to hear. I’m just not very well liked by the senior nurses and some of the providers. I just don’t want to give them something to talk about, you know?” You explained.

“Absolutely. When is your contract up?” She asked.

“4 weeks, they asked me to extend though.” You rubbed your eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.

“Are you gonna do it? Or is it too early in the morning to talk about this?” She giggled.

You nodded, “Bingo. Let’s leave this as ‘to be continued’.”

“Alright, get home safe.” She waved you off and headed towards her car a few spots away. 

Once in your Toyota Corolla and buckled, you blasted loud music and freezing cold AC to keep you awake and alert on your commute home. Once there you peaked at your phone.

Bradley Bradshaw: Now that you’ve enjoyed the sunrise, you gotta get your ass to bed.

You: Yes sir, I’ll be out of commission until 1500 hours.

When you arrived home, you looked at your phone again to see Bradley replied with the saluting emoji. You dragged yourself out of the car and up to your apartment, in front of your door was a plastic takeout bag. The parcel was still warm when you picked it up, it was clearly left there just minutes ago. You blinked through your exhausted blurry vision and saw a note typed in the comments on the receipt… it was from the same place you had brunch with Bradley two days before.

“After working through the night, you deserve a true Californian breakfast and a nap. —Bradshaw”

This may be one of the most thoughtful things anyone had done for you in a while. You were so exhausted, you didn’t realize how hungry you were until you caught a whiff of the parcel. When you entered your apartment, you threw your bag down and went straight to the kitchen. You opened the bag to find a breakfast burrito neatly wrapped in aluminum foil, Bradley’s go to menu item. Maybe it was because of the surprise of it waiting for you at the door or because you were absolutely starving, but that thing tasted better than sex. You started your post night shift ritual with a shower. After brushing your teeth, doing your skin care, and changing into comfy clothes, you drew the black out curtains in your room, turned on the sound machine, and set an alarm for 2pm before popping a melatonin gummy. After many years as a nurse and often flipping between days and nights, you had this sleep ritual down to an absolute science.

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

Y/N <3: thank you so much for breakfast. That may be one of the nicest things anyone’s ever done for me.

Rooster’s heart fluttered when the message flashed across his phone around 8AM. The Dagger Squad had just finished running a drill that ended with 200 push ups. That small rush made him forget how his muscles were screaming at him. He went to reply and saw the “do not disturb” icon was on. He was so glad since that meant Y/N was most likely sleeping. So he left a reply for her to wake up to.

Bradley: I’m glad it came just in time! Hope you’re taking the best nap ever :)

“Is that sexy nurse?” Natasha inquired as she peered over his shoulder.

Rooster rolled his eyes, “Phoenix, she has a name… and that’s none of your business.”

“So yes,” she smirked, “you are texting her.”

“I’m replying to her,” he corrected, “she worked all night last night and is on again tonight. So she won’t get it until she wakes up.”

She stood on her tip toes to get a better look at the screen, “You sent her breakfast?!?!”

Bradley was not loving this line of questioning but he knew he had to answer or Phoenix would never lay off, “I sent UberEats for her to come home too.”

“You are down bad, my friend.” She shook her head.

“Am not.” He quipped back.

“ Are too!” She shoved him.

“That’s not fair Phoenix, just cause you’re one of the boys doesn’t mean I’ll stoop low enough to shove a woman.” He groaned.

She chuckled, “You’re just scared to get your shit rocked, Bradshaw.”

Hangman suddenly appeared beside Phoenix, skillfully placing her in a headlock. “Is this little lady giving you trouble, Rooster?”

She squirmed and screamed, “Hangman, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Ya know Phoenix,” he sighed, “Forever the bully.”

Phoenix reached over and Hangman a firm tap in the junk, causing him to jump and release her.

Rooster couldn’t help but smile as the two of them fought like siblings.

“I was asking him about the hot nurse from the other night.” She explained, “He’s texting her and sent breakfast to her place for her to come home to after work.”

Hangman’s face lit up, “Bradley, Bradley, Bradley… I never thought I’d see the day. You’re courtin’ a fine lady.”

Bradley rolled his eyes, “Courting is a strong word. I’m showing her that I’m… kinda interested.”

Hangman and Phoenix gave each other knowing looks.

Natasha nodded, “Uh huh, yeah. Sureeeeee.”

2pm rolled around and Bradley was wrapping up his work day on base.

Y/N <3: Not the best nap ever but pretty damn good. I’m gonna walk on the beach and get some sunshine before it’s back to the dungeon for the night. What are you up to for the rest of the day?

Should he shoot his shot? She wouldn’t keep engaging with him if she wasn’t at least a little interested, right?

Bradley: Joining you for a walk on the beach if you’ll allow it.

Y/N <3: I would love that. What time can you be at my place?

This was good. This was really good. She’s invited him back to her place. 

Bradley: I gotta change out of my uniform and stuff, how does 3 sound?

Y/N <3: Perfect, I’ll see you soon :)

Rooster had an extra skip in his step as he packed up his things, grateful for the 6am start allowing his work day to have an early finish. Once in his Bronco, he sped home to change into some casual clothes. He decided to really shake it up and not wear his usual Hawaiian shirt and jeans combo. A UVA t-shirt and some gym shorts seemed a lot more appropriate for a casual beach walk. Bradley really couldn’t believe he was putting that much thought into what he wore for something so casual. 

When he walked up to her door he could hear music through it. Whatever Y/N was listening to, she was clearly jamming. When he knocked, she quickly called out, “It’s open!”. He got a better listen to the music once the door was open, it was high energy with a… saxophone? It was kind of lit.

“What is this?” Bradley asked, “It’s awesome!”

“Modern Woman by Bleachers,” she entered the living room wearing a similar outfit to his, a university t-shirt and gym shorts, “Isn’t it great? Kinda gives me Springsteen vibes.”

He paused and listened a little more, “Yes, that’s spot on!”

“Let me just make sure I have my life together for work, so I can just change and leave later.” She said, heading toward the kitchen.

He took another good look at her as she took her lunchbox, water bottle, and an energy drink from the fridge and set it out on the counter. Fresh faced from her nap, hair in a bun, shorts and a t-shirt… he had never seen anything more beautiful.

Y/N paused for a moment and looked over at Rooster, “Is everything okay? Do I have something on my face?”  

He shook his head, “Yes, everything’s great… you look great.”

She smiled shyly and continued her task, “Thank you, Bradley… are you ready to head to the beach?”

“Hell yeah,” he asked, “which beach are we headed to?”

“Nothing fancy, just the beach a few blocks away.” She shrugged, “Hope you don’t mind tagging along on my normal, boring jaunt.”

He shook his head, “Y/N, nothing with you could be boring. I’d have fun watching paint dry.”

█ ✪ █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓█ ✪ █ 

The two of you walked along the shoreline; the waves ebbed and flowed across the sand and towards your feet. The wind whipped across your face and through your hair, making it dance wildly. Bradley looked so handsome beside you, you couldn’t help but stare and hope that maybe it would be less obvious since you had sunglasses on.

“I should start doing this more, it’s much more pleasant than running.” He chuckled to himself, “It’s so peaceful.”

You giggled, “Drinking bleach is more pleasant than running, in my opinion.”

“You’re not a runner?” He asked.

“Not unless something’s chasing me.” You quipped.

A smirk slowly crept across Bradley’s face. You weren’t exactly sure what was going through his head but you felt the sudden urge to start sprinting. Next thing you knew he was hot on your heels and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly, running on sand was so freaking hard! Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet with ease.

“BRADSHAW!!!” You cried out through your giggles, leaning your head back on his shoulder behind you.

His face burrowed into your neck, “You say you’re not a runner but you’re pretty speedy.”

You turned your head to look at him, nose to nose, still giggling breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful.” He said simply.

It was like two magnets, your lips crashed into his, there was no force that could stop it. Once you realized what you did, you quickly pulled away, “I’m so sorry.”

He placed you gently back on your feet, “Y/N, the only thing you owe me an apology for is stopping.”

Your stomach fluttered, “Soooo… you wanna do it again?”

“Kiss me, you fool.” He chuckled, grabbing you by the cheeks and stroking them sweetly with his thumb.

You stepped closer so you two were chest to chest and gently brushed your lips against his. With a jolt of pure electricity, you pressed deeper into his kiss. It wasn’t until this moment, when you tasted his lips, that you realized how fucking starving you were.

Tag list:

@sarah-bear706318

@dizzybee03

@that-gay-person-27

@alwayshave-faith

@caitsymichelle13

@thespillingvoid

Please message or comment if you'd like to be added to the tag list!

[chaotic-fandom-writer]

Adam x Reader P.4 (Hazbin Hotel)

Sorry for the short part, life loves to get in the way. Promise the next one will be longer!

I also apologize for the delay on posting this, I had a bigger part almost completely written up, and a storm took out my wifi, and I lost all of my work. The part is so much shorter today because I wanted to hurry and quickly get something out for you guys this morning.

Part 5 will be out tonight so long as there's no more interruptions like that lol! And I promise it will be much longer, I have some good stuff planned!

Enjoy!

Warnings: Heavy cursing, violence, adult themes

Chapters I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

Adam

Adam tried his hardest to stay away. Really, he did, because he knew he would be putting you in harm's way by breaking Sera's rules. But it was hard.

Once he realized who you were back on that rooftop, all you've done is consume his mind. He missed you. He never thought he'd see you again. Now, the universe plops you down right in front of him, just to take you away again?

He couldn't stand it.

So, every night, he'd wear something unrecognizable, and go to your street.

If he stood in just the right spot, he could get a glimpse of you in your living room through the blinds.

Every night, he went, and every night, he saw the same thing.

You, curled up on the couch, in the dark. And he could hear you.

Crying.

It made Adam's stomach turn to hear you in so much pain. He never thought he could care about anybody like this ever again, but here you are, making him feel all these stupid fucking things.

He wanted to run right up to your door, kick it open, tell you everything about who you are, and hold you tight.

He wanted to kiss you, as much as he hated to admit it to himself. He wanted to feel your skin underneath his fingertips.

Damn her. He thought. Damn her for making me feel like this, and not even knowing it.

Adam really believed he could handle this as long as he got to see you from a distance sometimes. She's just some girl, he would tell himself. What are you getting so worked up for?

Until one day, he started to notice someone talking to you. A neighbor, it appeared. He would come knocking on your door every day with gifts - dinner, flowers, sweets - you name it.

Adam sat watching you one night, like he always did, and his greatest fear came true - he watched as you invited this man inside.

Nothing happened, thankfully, but his blood boiled at the sight of some guy trying to win you over.

Finally, he had enough.

One day, he waited outside for the neighbor to appear. And he did.

"Hey. HEY!"

The man turns, startled, relaxing slightly when he sees it's Adam. "Oh, hello Adam! Did you need something?"

"Yeah, I need to know why the fuck you keep visiting (Y/N)."

The man scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Well.. we live next door to each other, and every day, all I can hear is her crying.

I don't think anyone should live like that, even if they were a sinner! And I figure, hey, she can't be bad if she redeemed herself, right? And she isn't she's actually a very sweet, beautiful-"

Adam cuts the man off with a punch to the wall, cracking the brick and making the man jump.

"Listen up fuckbag, I'm only gonna say this once.

That's my fucking wife you're hitting on, and if you go near her again, I'll make you regret it.

Stay the fuck away from her. She's mine."

Adam leaves the man in a pile of nerves and sweat, flying away from the scene.

I can't believe I just did that. I feel like a fucking simp.

--

You

Days had gone by since you'd seen him, or anyone else for that matter. You thought maybe you had made a new friend, your neighbor, but even he stopped coming to see you, too. You started trying to leave your room as little as possible. Every now and then, you'd notice Sera lingering at the end of the hall, but as soon as she saw you, she'd leave.

Truthfully, you could care less. You missed home. You missed your friends.

Tired of sitting around being Heaven's newest exibit to marvel at, you decided enough was enough.

I'm leaving this fucking place. No matter what I have to do. It's time to come up with a plan.

Packing one, small bag, you set it next to your door in case you needed a quick exit. Best to travel light.

The only problem was finding a portal back into Hell. You obviously couldn't just go ask someone to take you back. You considered doing something to get into trouble, but without knowing exactly how the angels would react, it would be too much of a risk.

You decided to break into Sera's office. It seems like a crazy, risky thing to do, but you figured if there's any kind of physical item that can help you, it had to be there, right?

You waited for the cover of night before sneaking to the office. The building was quiet at night, still, and silent.

You approached her door, straining your eyes for any possible sounds. After hearing nothing, you knock softly on the door.

No response.

You push the door slightly, and it creaks open. Peeking inside, you find an empty room. You enter, quietly shutting the door behind you.

You take your time searching the room, shuffling through papers and looking through cabinets.

Then finally, you see it.

Underneath Sera's desk is a gold-lined trap door. You reach for the handle and find it open. Inside is a small hiding space, occupied by some files, a wooden box, and a smaller box.

You reach for the big box, but when your fingers touch it, it suddenly sparks, shooting volts of pain through your arm.

You gasp, yanking your hand away. The box glues with strange carvings.

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the smaller box. This one doesn't hurt you, so you open it.

Inside, you find a glowing gem. The purplish-blue hues of light reflect off your irises, your eyes glowing at the sight.

You reach for it, and it allows you to do so.

Something about it speaks to you, telling you that it's purpose is what you're looking for. Unsure why, you feel certain that this is what you're looking for. You close everything up and quickly retreat back to your home.

Putting the gem in a safe, hidden spot, you quickly realize you have no idea how to activate it, and mentally curse your own luck.

Maybe I can convince someone to show me, or even trick them. You thought to yourself.

Either way, I'm getting out of here.

--

Don't forget, I'm always accepting requests!

Chapters I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII

[starsomens]

i've never requested something like this before so bare w me, but can you do 4. Forehead kisses with 9. "You're absolutely perfect in my eyes". i feel like this would be so cute if the reader was feeling a little insecure or just self conscious about herself and noah was trying to make her feel beautiful. maybe even starting with forehead kisses but going to kiss different parts of her like her neck, chest, arms, hands, stomach, etc. THIS WOULD BE SO CUTE PLS

Note: we love the fluff!!!!! also because we deal with topics of self esteem every reading this is beautiful as hell! &lt;3

4. Forehead kisses 9:"you're absolutely perfect in my eyes"

Warnings: Language

"Babe you okay?" Noah asked snapping you out of your thoughts. You had ordered pizza "You aren't really enjoying your food" he pointed out

"Hm? Oh I'm fine I just ate earlier is all" you smile at him

You lied.

It was after a small meet and greet with fans, and you knew what you were getting into. They were an amazing band, with great music and die hard fans. Of course with Noah being lead vocals, he gets a lot of attention. He was talented, handsome and so sweet, how could he not capture the hearts of his female fans? You knew he loved you, everything about you and yet...you still felt insecure at times.

You see so many girls with beautiful features, amazing bodies, they could easily pull Noah if they tried. You were with them today there was a gorgeous girl who came to the VIP and met the boys. She had given them each a hug with some small talk, and it was just the way she looked at Noah that turned your stomach. She was trying to get his attention, trying to make that eye contact. You tasted a bitter taste in your mouth as you snapped the picture for them.

Of course Noah never thought about it for a second. He already had eyes for someone, and that someone was you. But your mind lingered on the interaction until you got home. You tried to keep things on the low but it was hard. You both loved having pizza after shows and just talking and enjoying each others company. You didn't even have an appetite, still feeling a bit bothered. After a single slice you got up, cleaned your dish and kissed Noah as a thank you for ordering pizza. You only gave him a peck on the cheek and he grabbed your hand

"Sunshine, are you mad at me?" he asked feeling hurt by just the peck he was given.

"No baby, just a little drained from the show is all, I promise" you smile at him and kiss him fully on the lips "I'm gonna go and shower okay?"

"Okay, I'll clean up here" he smiled watching you head upstairs. He still felt something was off, it was one of the many things you loved and hated about him. You could never hide your true feelings from that man. He in fact did clean up and put everything away and made his way up stairs. The bathroom door was cracked and he stood near the door and saw you in the reflection of the mirror. You were just staring at yourself, with a disappointed look on your face?

You were in your underwear looking at yourself in a vulnerable state. You didn't have that body everyone else was able to gain, you looked average, none of your features really stood out. You wipe your eyes and sniffle feeling your heart sink the longer you stared at yourself. Your eyes wondered the mirror and saw Noah watching you from the hall. Your heart jumped out of your chest and you quickly close the door and lock it.

"Y/N! I knew you were okay, open the door!" he called you out as he tried twisting the knob, finding it locked

"Noah! Why were you watching me?!" you asked half embarrassed and half angry

"I always watch you! This is any different! Damn it Y/N, why did you say you were fine? What's going on?" he said resting his forehead on the door

"It's...nothing, you wouldn't understand!"

"What have you told that I haven't understood?" he asks still trying the knob as if it would unlock itself.

You stay quiet knowing he was right…he was good at listening and understanding there was never a time where he didn’t understand because he always tried to…..

"Goddamn it Y/N….babe open the door….please." He asked more gently “I just want to help you…please tell me what’s wrong”

“I don’t……I don’t want you to see….” You admit feeling the ache in your chest again

“See what, sunshine?” He asked

“…me…”

“Baby….open the door please.” He asked again “I want to see you, I need to see you”

You finally cave and with a huff you unlock the door and open the door slowly. He hated seeing your eyes red and puffy from crying. You had put a towel on, and look at anything but Noah. His arms come around you and bring you close

"Y/N I hate seeing you like this, what's going on?" he asked you again

"Noah do you....am I..." he pulls back and looks at you as you try and find the words "...that girl...did you think she was pretty?"

"What girl...the ones from the meet and greet?" he said trying to pinpoint who you were talking about "Did she say something to you?"

You shook your head "no she was just....really pretty..."

He finally got it. He knew what you meant "Oh princess no, no, no...." his hands came up to cup your face in his hands and wipe your eyes "I saw what she was doing, she wasn't even a fraction of your beauty."

"But...she was so-"

"Don't finish that sentence cause it's bullshit. Now get in the shower" he said starting up the warm water, he then strips from his hoodie

"Wait but-"

"Ah, not another word, now strip and get your sexy ass in here!" he said stepping into the shower. You take in a breath and drop your towel and let your underwear fall and joined the towel. You step in and join Noah bashfully, as if hasn't already seen you naked. The water was nice and warm and you let your hair soak. Noah reached for the soap and your scrub. He lathered the soap and started on your back. His hands were gentle and he was quiet, Despite his silence his actions were louder than your tears. His hands were gliding along your body caressing, and washing softly, his lips kissing anything and everything he loves on you.

"My pretty, beautiful, gorgeous girl" he whispered, just loud enough to hear above the water hitting the tile. He grabbed the shampoo and poured out some for your hair. He combed his long fingers through your strands and massaged it thoroughly

"With the prettiest hair," he added in "I love finding your hair in my clothes and on my desk." after he rinses off your hair he takes a hold of your hands and brought them to his lips "these hands that I love seeing in mine, feeling them touch me, or brush my hair"

"the prettiest eyes, I love waking up and seeing them staring at me" he said kissing your eye lids "and of course, your lips. My favorite things to kiss"

He stops at your forehead and says against it "You're absolutely perfect in my eyes." another kiss to your skin. Noah really did love you inside and out but he needed to remind you every now and then that you were the girl of his dreams

"Oh my princess, you know I love you right?" he asks hugging you underneath the steady stream of water

"Mhm, I love you too"

"Good," he kissed the crown of your head "Now let's go and have some of the ice cream I bought. Yeah?"

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @noah-seb-omens

[fatuismooches]

hai smooches.. i cant stop overbrainrotting over two dotty segments lately ..segment who feels the failure pf not being able to cure fragile! reader..and the stern and stoic segment, the one who u wrote as number 4 in ur fic i think?, i cant stop thinking about them 😞

i feel like the failure segment enjoys when u go to his office and sit on the table and he places his hands where ur trapped between them, and he just,, stares at reader.. i feel like a lot of segments do this especially the okder ones but i feel like they do it to fluster reader and flirt w them but not this segment..he just wants to look at u nd only u, then as he keeps lookingn at fragile!reader they place their hands on his cheeks and he flinches bc he was zoning out while admiring them but then his eyes just soften.. hes so precious..

im not sure how segment 4 would interact w fragile!reader but i know reader gets away w a lot of things others would NEVER humor the thiught of doing becayse he just loves u sm do u think hes also a sucker for their attention and affectionate touches?

i was NOT jesting when i said ive been overbraknrotting. my skulls empty by now trying to think of more thoughts abt them.. will u, O’ great ol smooches, spare more brainrots about them pretty pleasw 🤲

(x) AWW I LOVE THIS ANON... You're making me brainrot heavily about those segments as well! Ahh the segment of Dottore feeling an overwhelming sense of failure always makes me... sigh. (If i get more brainrots about this one, I'll probably give him a name haha.) And we can call 04 Delta! (Greek alphabet and all.) (This got WAY longer than I anticipated. Oopsies.)

The segment that feels like he failed you is obviously very attention-starved - at this stage of Dottore's life he neglected to care about anything besides you and his other Fatui duties. Constantly pushing himself inhumanely to obtain even the slightest bit of progress for you. But always ending up with nothing to show. So seeing you awake is very... mhm, I'm not sure the best word but, it's... a lot. As much as he desires your attention (just as every other segment does) he tends to keep his distance since he's not sure to act around you. Dottore himself represses the feeling that he's failing you so he's very much more outward about being all over you, but this segment is entirely open about it and he doesn't know how to act. He looks on from afar and bears witness to your happiness instead. His greatest goal at that stage in his life finally accomplished. (But of course you're not gonna leave this poor bb alone. He gets all the kisses.)

Pretty much no one visits this segment's office, except for the occasional segment and all. He works with no other Fatuis, no, purely by himself because of his very closed-off attitude. Which is why of course when you barge into his office he's naturally caught off guard. He's like... very quiet, uncharacteristically so because like, all the segments would love to talk your ear off but not this one. Either he's quiet or grouchy and snappy to others (not you.) He just watches you as you walk around his lab, responses to your questions rather shortly. It's not that he wants to ignore you this is just... very new for him, considering how long he had to deal with you being motionless.

Until you finally have enough and just plop yourself on his desk, preventing him from doing his work. AHHH the part where you're trapped and he stares at you.... giggles insanely he so does!. Also, you are so right. The other segments do that 100% to tease you, they wanna just kiss you all over and bite and lick while you squirm and blush under them! But this segment, he wants to take in every detail about you. He wants to see how lively you are now, examine every single thing that's different from when you were asleep for so painfully long. He wants to feel how warm you are, how you respond to his movements this time. He wants to hear you simply reassure him that he did everything he could and you're thankful.

Teehee Delta... honestly I wasn't even paying much mind when I dubbed him as the serious segment but!! We're rolling with it! He's one of the segments that literally never smiles. But unlike the others who don't smile either, he's just eternally serious... like at least the Akademiya segment is grumpy and all. You're honestly kind of scared at first because at least the smiles of the others make you feel better... but obviously he is a sucker for your attention hehe, no segment can ever deny this!

You LOVE cracking bad jokes with this segment to see his reaction 😭😭 (there is none besides him staring holes into you) As you said, you can do a lot of silly things and he would just scoff and gently reprimand you, you'll wrap your arms around his head and squish it while lathering him with kisses and he'll just sigh... (the blush is very very faint.) You know that pose where people put their hand against their forehead and lean back in distress? You love doing that with Delta. It's very funny, dramatically falling back into his chest only to be met with 😐

Still, despite his stern and rough tendencies, like all the segments, he's cautious of your health, and will be blunter than others about you pushing yourself or trying to hide your pain. When it comes to your health he tolerates nothing, if it could potentially hurt you. While you're appreciative, you wish he could calm down about that a bit...

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

(spoilers for the whole show and the books)

Season 2 episode 1 [What Can the Damned Really Say to the Damned] - part 2/4

- *solemn music*, thanks subtitles, and Louis' breathing getting all ragged. Aaaaaaah, DREAMSTAT MY BELOVED.

[Dreamstat] "Bonjour, mon amour", sorry, laughing again, but this time because of the bloopers and Jacob going "don't smile at me like that". I can't watch this scene normally any longer.

- [Dreamstat] "Is it the same question?"

[Louis] "Go away."

[Dreamstat] "Or do you miss me? I miss you. Despite our recent unpleasantness... Still missing each other."

[Louis] "Claudia!"

[Dreamstat] "Hm. Four years of grim wayfaring and still no sight of the benevolent vampire. So, how does denial manifest itself tonight? Sniffing German brandy?"

Oof, Louis automatically and immediately turning to Claudia when his consciousness-as-Lestat appears, Claudia still playing the part of the bandaid for a shitty relationship, except this time the shitty relationship is between Louis and his own mind. Claudia deserves betteeeeeer.

And the way Louis is so cruel with himself... Hallucinating your presumed dead-by-your-own-hands husband to not only punish yourself for your (and your daughter....) shortcomings but also say outloud the things you cannot, will not say outloud is a new kind of self-flagellation, methinks.

Also, timestamp! Four years since they arrived in Europe. So somewhere between 1944 and 1945, right before the end of the war. I think we'll get more precise time indicators later.

- [Louis] "You're not here, I'm just fucked in the head."

[Dreamstat] "Quite fucked. Was she worth it?"

[Louis] "Yes."

[Dreamstat] "You say it like you believe it."

[Louis] "I do, I do."

[Dreamstat] "I do, I do. I do."

[Louis] "Stop!"

Oooooooooooooh. Can't lie to yourself, Louis. Especially if you're literally manifesting your consciousness outside of you. Hard to get your mind to shut up and carry on the pretense when it's prancing around you.

Ha, I keep imagining what Claudia must be thinking hearing Louis arguing with himself like that. Poor dear must have really been fed up with her companion.

The way Louis shuts his own mind by imagining Lestat choking on his open throat is... Violent. Wait, what ? Did. Did Louis just imagine a bat flying out of Dreamstat's open throat? What???? Lou baby, um, are you alright??? Obviously not but I still gotta ask.

- [Dreamstat] "Oh. Purgatory is a lovely room for music. I have a new piece, Concerto for Gashed Throat and Orchestra."

[Louis] "I'm sorry."

[Dreamstat] "Don't say it again. You ruin it with remorse. It was a perfect betrayal. You gave me a death of distinction."

[Claudia] "Trucks!"

[Dreamstat] "But in answer to your question. Yes. I'm gonna bloody kill you."

[Louis] "If you were alive you'd have done it already."

[Dreamstat] "Hmm. Oh, love. I'm merely waiting until you're happy . So hurry up, mon cher."

*pterodactyl screech* Oh, this is so fascinating! Not just Louis' guilt and grief and how he misses Lestat so much, but also the way he does know him so well, every line spoken by Dreamstat is both Louis and something Lestat could say, yet it's also very clear this is Louis' mind because Lestat, as us watchers know with hindsight, would actually never consider taking revenge on his husband and their daughter... And it's also how Claudia's keeping watch, not interrupting Louis' psychosis session unless there's danger approaching, still playing the part that she was made for, Louis' companion, Louis' caretaker, Louis' shield in front of his self-destructive tendencies... And then it's Dreamstat tearing into Louis' throat, an actual visual representation of mental self-harm. I am fascinated and mesmerised.

- [Louis] "He came by invitation. My distraction from a monochromatic landscape. The gray of an obliterated road, the gray-brown of a charred and bullet-ridden city." - I just love the writing, that's it.

- Louis' face as the Soviet soldiers are shooting up the coffins is hilarious.

And also, welcome to Romania I guess. Garlic and crucifixes and staking corpses. Folklore never dies.

Aaaah, Romanian! Do you guys know that Romanian is a romance language like Italian, Spanish, French and Portuguese? So if your native tongue is one of those, there's a good chance you might recognise some words or the sonority of Romanian when you hear it. Mainly French, Italian and Spanish tho, 'cause I have no idea what Portuguese is doing, sorry friends. Anyway, end of linguistic rant.

- Louis and Claudia telepathically arguing while meeting Emilia and Morgan is hilarious. They're family your Honor. Emilia is fun, Morgan already annoys me with his higher-than-thou attitude. Yo, asshole, broken English whomst? Go on, speak Romanian, let's see if you can do better! She's speaking your language, the least you could do is respect her instead of belittling her for minor errors that don't even matter because she's perfectly comprehensible!

... Sorry. Monolingual people needlessly correcting multilingual people is a pet peeve of mine. Ahem.

- [Louis] "Go ahead, Mary. Go and meet the other children. I bet they know everything about this place." - yo, Lou, even though it's a smart way to gather intel, maaaybe you can remember that Claudia's actually 40 and avoid laughing at her when she's forced to recon with what she hates the most, her perceived age and status? Thanks.

- [Louis] "Wait, that's wrong. She didn't say that in front of Claudia." - listen baby, I take everything you tell us with a grain of salt because we all know, the odyssey of recollection is flawed and messy. Do your edits, ain't gonna change much.

I do love how Louis is enthusiastic about correcting his own memories, tho.

- Oh,the following conversation is interesting; take extra notice of how both Armand AND Daniel look at Louis during that passage:

[Louis] "Yes. Yes! That's how it went. We should get every detail right."

[Daniel] "In total agreement."

[Armand] "Perhaps this would be a time to take a break, Louis."

*Armand looks at Louis with slight trepidation; Louis looks at Armand with anger; Daniel looks at Louis with concern and suspicion*

[Daniel] "You know, Real Rashid, I'm pretty good at my job, 'a bright young reporter with a point of view' [!!!!!!]. Interviewed a fallen Catholic archbishop, four Enron vice presidents, and if they've got something to hide, they always start with some kind of disguise. Not literally, not some dumb Halloween costume [turns to Armand and looks at him with disdain], gloves, contact lenses. They tell jokes, they're charming. And then at some crisis point, when I get close, it drops away and I see a flash of the truth."

Round of applause for Real Rashid doing his job so well he's even mastering pretending he's interested in what Daniel's saying. And round of applause for Daniel taking shots at Armand so skillfully. Love how zen Armand looks even as Daniel's basically calling him a liar and a master manipulator, do you think inside he's crying and shaking?

[Louis] "Armand didn't want me to do the interview, Daniel."

[Armand] "Still don't."

We wonder why!! Daniel's right, and Louis knows he's right, look how conflicted he appears as both Real Rashid and Armand leave the room. He knows he can't trust his memories, but he wants to tell his story as authentically as possible, and it's killing him to realise how much he's lost, forgotten or twisted over the years. The enthusiasm he had five minutes ago is gone, the liveliness in his voice at the beginning is gone, we're back to perfectly flat and controlled Dubai!Louis' voice.

- Ha, Louis' using Grace photo to pass as his wife, now there's a kind of irony I don't have the brains to decipher right now.

- Oh, boy, Morgan is insufferable. The perfect picture of the British coloniser. "This is an old country, with old things in it" - maybe you should listen to Emilia and stop looking down on her...

"Something out there, with soul disturb'ed. Disturb'ed?" *Louis nods* SEE, that's how you do it. Louis knows multilingualism, his husband was French, even his own family being Creole NOLA juggled with languages like there's no border between them. Emilia speaks perfect English because she's perfectly understandable. Sorry, I'm hung up on that tiny little thing because I'm from a multilingual household and I've lived more years in countries whose languages were my second, third, fourth or even fifth tongues than in actual France, so anything regarding languages and how some people barely even talk their own mother tongue but have no qualms correcting you when you speak multiple languages feels very personal. Had a bad experience at my previous job last December because of this kind of people so yeah, fuck Morgan actually.

- Europe: getting to the end of the worst war ever. Claudia: meeting a revenant and being thrown into trees. Emilia: fluently translating English to Romanian like the perfect queen she is (I'm very attached to her). Morgan: being insufferable. Louis: *aight, time to relax and get drunk on vodka, this is the perfect spot and time for that*. Lou darling I love you but you really got to check your priorities and sense of reality. "Baboons in Romania", seriously, love?

- [Louis] "Mortals are scared of vampires, in a part of the world known for vampires, ain't a surprise or evidence of an actual vampire!" - he's got a point.

[Claudia] "There's one of us out there! But if he can't take you ballroom dancing and tell you you're pretty, hell with him, is that it?" - she's got a point...

[Louis] "Hello, grudge!"

[Claudia] "No! Mh-mm! I forgave you for messing up my plan, I did not forgive you for bringing him with you."

[Louis] "In a landfill with five years of garbage on top."

[Claudia] "In here! You carry him in here. You slow us down."

To be fair to Louis, he did tell her when they were planning the murder that if he lets Lestat back in and he lets himself be dragged back into Lestat, there ain't no way he can find his way back out after. At least he was honest about that.

[Louis] "What you gonna ask him, if he could talk?"

[Claudia] "Change the subject when the truth blinds you."

[Louis] "Who made you? And then what? Who made the one that made you? I mean, what are we looking for here, Adam and Eve of the damned? God? Are we looking for God, Claudia? Yeah, get in the hole."

So their names [spoiler alert] are Akasha and Enkil and I just realised their initials are also A and E, I'm slow (and raised atheist), and they're actually not good news at all and Lestat already knows them, but the lore is complicated and honestly you're better off not knowing them. Also if we want to get really theological you could say that the vampires have a sort of Creator God and his name is Amel but that's even more complicated, and I have no idea how much of this part of the books Rolin Jones will adapt. Anyway. It's funny because in later books canon Louis continues not giving a fuck about where vampires come from and how. It's Lestat that almost destroys the world once or twice seeking these answers. Like father like daughter I guess, Claudia really is a De Lioncourt.

- [Claudia] "I've known exactly four vampires in my life, and you've all been the worst. Lestat, Antoinette, the motherfucker and you. I'm looking for one, just one, that ain't a goddamn bastard!" - Claudia deserves BETTER! Also I'm sorry my queen but it's not gonna get better after that.

season 1 masterpost

part 1 | part 3 | part 4

episode 2 | episode 3 | episode 4 | episode 5 | episode 6 | episode 7 | episode 8

[abrushwithdeath]

((So, long awaited life update on why I haven't really been around in the last couple months:

I've been working full time all year when I was only supposed to be doing part time- this is fine, though, because the extra money is good and my sister and I finally booked a trip for next summer that we've been trying to save money for for 8 or 9 years, so that's great! But that does mean that I have a little less time than anticipated, and as a night owl who now has to be used to being up between 5:30 and 6 in the morning to get ready for work, that adjustment hasn't been easy ^^; But it's been made even LESS easy by the fact that about a month ago we took in a tiny kitten who was crying underneath our house. We named him Remy (after the one and only Remy LeBeau <3) and I love him dearly... but kittens are also a lot of work because they get into EVERYTHING. And they're so small that they can fit in small spaces that you didn't expect. On top of that, he's had to be quarantined since we got him because he still hasn't been tested for FIV (he had an appointment for his shots and a check up at the beginning of the month and my sister was supposed to ask them to test for FIV while she was there but she didn't... so now he has to wait until I take him next Tuesday for his second round of shots and see if they can do it while he's there THIS time). Being quarantined has meant we've had to keep him in one room at all times (which is what we would have done, anyway, while he's this little- it also allows for slower meetings of the older cats which will help them possibly get along better when they're finally around one another more). We will also be getting another kitten if he tests negative for FIV because it's not good to have just one kitten under 6 months, even with older cats around (there's something called "Only Kitten Syndrome" and it can lead to a lot of behavioral issues). Anyway- because of watching him, I've been only getting 4 or 5 hours of sleep a night every night for a month and it's running me a bit ragged ^^; Then there's the worse stuff (tw: death, cancer, for those who want to avoid those and stop here): Early last month my grandmother passed away pretty unexpectedly after a week or two in the hospital recovering from a fall. Come to find out she'd had a stroke (and had been having a lot of mini ones that she didn't know were strokes and kept playing off as just "old age") and every time they stabilized her, she got bad again soon after. There was no funeral or anything, which somehow feels worse and has consistently given me this weird feeling of "did this really happen or not?" because I didn't even get a chance to see her in the hospital before she passed. My father also had a bunch of polyps removed from his intestines over the summer and the largest one came back testing positive for cancer. They just this week ran more tests and, thankfully, they cancer hasn't spread to his heart or lungs, but they DO need to do a pretty big surgery to remove a piece of his intestine very near to his colon which is a risky procedure because patients are more likely to bleed out when the surgery is done in that area. After the surgery, he'll be in the hospital for a few days to recover and for them to keep an eye on him, and then he'll have 6 weeks in which he can't really do anything except rest because he'll risk injuring himself and/or internal bleeding. Last week, my aunt's partner (they weren't married, but they had been together for 7 or so years) passed away and, while that didn't have a big impact on me (because I didn't know him well), it was still rough on her and some other family members, so that was also... not great.

But, yeah. It's been a rough couple of months and I'm very, very, tired. I do want to come back because I miss writing Rogue, but it's gonna be a little bit longer, especially with all the things going on with my dad. Thank you all for your patience and understanding in the mean time <3))

[voxofthevoid]

Shibuya Swap Wednesday #10 😶

I'm still on Part 3: 94k, 17 chapters, and counting. But I think Part 3 will be done with two, maximum three, chapters, and then it's Part 4 with alt!Satoru/alt!Yuuji. I think this fic is gonna end up being some 25 chapters of wall-to-wall porn with a few chapters of conversations and feels. I hope whoever's into goyuu in fucking 2026 will enjoy it.

For now, have a blowjob:

“I thought you were a good boy.” Gojou does stop then, pouting about it. It’s terrible and terribly pretty. “But here you are, leaving me high and dry.”

What’re you even—” It hits Yuuji mid-sentence, and he looks down. Their torsos are flush together, so he can’t see anything, but he can sure feel it. “Oh, that.”

“You don’t sound very impressed.” The pout worsens, comical now. “Ouch.”

Yuuji’s torn between rolling his eyes and kissing the pout away.

Novelty wins.

He has no regrets, not when he can taste how Gojou’s mouth eases into a smile right against his lips.

“Put me down, sensei,” Yuuji says without pulling away.

“But I like you here.”

“You’ll like me on my knees too.”

Gojou makes a strangled noise, and that’s worth the spike of what the fuck am I saying. It’s a bold claim. Yuuji’s done this exactly once, and the dick was…non-standard.

But no one’s ever accused Yuuji of not swinging for the fences.

He fists a hand in Gojou’s hair, tugging his head back. It’s not very gentle, but Yuuji’s the one paying the price because his body howls at the way Gojou’s lashes flutter, sweeping delicately over pink-stained cheeks. His eyes gleam like blue coals, and the longer Yuuji stares, the more he feels like they’ll flare into flames and burn him up.

Yuuji gives the hair another tug anyway. Gojou’s lips tremble, making a noise that’s not a name but something close to it.

“Down, sensei,” Yuuji says sternly.

“Bossy,” Gojou replies, but it’s delightfully breathless, and his response is immediate, the hands holding Yuuji up loosening and then falling limply to the side.

Yuuji tightens his legs around Gojou on instinct, holding himself up. His fingers sink deeper into a thickly muscled shoulder, and his other hand tightens in Gojou’s hair, meaner than he wants to be, but Gojou just lets out a hot, ragged breath, everything about his mouth begging for some teeth. Yuuji can’t help giving it to him, bending down despite his precarious position to kiss Gojou on his pretty, pink mouth, and it’s a clumsy affair, Yuuji more focused on keeping his balance than any kind of technique, but he still takes his time pulling back, sucking Gojou’s lip into his mouth and keeping it there, trapped between teeth and sweetened with tongue.

He doesn’t let go until a few seconds after his feet find the ground, Gojou’s head yanked down by the lip caught in Yuuji’s mouth.

Gojou’s hands return to Yuuji, gripping his forearms with a gentleness that scorches the skin.

Yuuji kisses him again, just once, close-lipped and hungry, and drops to his knees.

Gojou makes that same strangled noise. He’s still holding Yuuji’s arms.

“Let go, sensei,” Yuuji tells him, tugging lightly.

Gojou blinks, his eyes flitting from Yuuji’s face to his forearms. He lets go, prying his fingers off one by one, and the hands are back on Yuuji the next moment, one sliding into his hair and the other resting on his shoulders. There’s barely any pressure, but Yuuji can still feel their weight, heavy enough to leaden his bones.

It’s not a bad feeling.

He tries to ground himself with that touch while he tries to get at Gojou’s dick. The jacket keeps getting in the way, too long and unwieldy, and it’s not that Yuuji needs to see the fly to unzip it, but he really wants to. His head is a slurry of fears and wants, more good than bad. He yanks the jacket up to pin it to Gojou’s own stomach, and then there’s a lot less hiding just how affected Gojou is—everything Yuuji felt earlier gleaming in front of his eyes.

He cups the bulge, spreading his fingers over it. Even like this, it feels hot. Touching it like this feels nice and dirty both, like the sweetest and filthiest thing Yuuji’s done at the same time.

Gojou is very still.

Yuuji’s tempted to look up but doesn’t, opening the fly instead. It’s more cloth under it, except Gojou’s underwear is soft and fine, and his cock looks like it’s about to poke a hole through it. It’s already so wet.

Yuuji rescues the underwear and nearly gets his eye poked out for his trouble.

“Woah,” he gasps, flinching back. Then he sees just what sprang out. “Wow.”

There’s another strangled noise from Gojou, distinctly amused this time.

“What?” Yuuji asks defensively, scowling up at Gojou and trying to ignore the new heat on his face. “It’s pretty!”

“Thank you,” Gojou says, his voice strained like he’s muffling laughter. “I’d have hated to disappoint you.”

Yuuji does roll his eyes this time. “Like you were ever worried about that. Look at this thing.”

“I’d rather look at you.”

That just makes Yuuji’s face burn even hotter, and he drags his eyes away from the searing sincerity on Gojou’s face. And the flushed curve of his cock doesn’t kill the heat, but it changes it, making it hotter and hungrier, and for a moment, Yuuji just stares at it, drinking it in the way he wasn’t allowed to that morning.

It suits Gojou, from the size to the color.

The head is the same blush pink of Gojou’s lips, and the way it gleams wetly with a generous coat of precome is like a dirtier version of how Gojou’s mouth shines with gloss or spit or worse. And it’s long—long enough that Yuuji presses his legs closer together at the memory of how Satoru’s dick looked straining against his cage. He can’t imagine all this being wrapped up in unforgiving metal like that, but that’s exactly what the other Yuuji did to Satoru.

Yuuji drags his mind away from that line of thought; he’s had a lot of practice with that these last few days.

He curls a hand just under the head. It’s hot, silky. The foreskin moves with liquid smoothness when Yuuji gives it a tentative stroke, and the head doesn’t get any wetter, but what’s already there makes Yuuji’s mouth water and throat dry out at the same time. It’s weirdly thrilling, this mix of anticipation and dread.

He takes Gojou into his mouth, eyes wide open.

Precome coats his tongue. It doesn’t have much of a taste. Just bland wetness, maybe a little sweet. He wonders if that’s because of all the sweets Gojou eats.

He swallows, the head still weighing down his tongue. There’s a lot more to take, and he tries, slowly swallowing Gojou centimeter by centimeter, and there’s a memory in his mouth of flesh caged in metal, but right now, it’s just flesh, heavy and hot all the way through, and Yuuji stops with the head prodding the back of his throat, not triggering the gag reflex he lacks but still kind of strange. Satoru didn’t get this far; he couldn’t. And a part of Yuuji misses the weird sting of metal on his tongue.

Or maybe he just misses the boy.

He closes his eyes and sucks, swallowing his own spit mixed with Gojou’s mess.

Gojou’s nails scrape his scalp, gathering a fistful of hair. It pulls a little, but Gojou doesn’t do anything else as Yuuji figures out how to suck a cock that’s bigger and fuller than the last one he put in his mouth. He keeps getting distracted by the differences. Gojou’s pleasantly solid, filling Yuuji’s mouth and digging into its insides when he sucks, but there was something heady about the way Satoru fit into his mouth, lying on his tongue all sweet and easy. And despite his aching sympathy, Yuuji liked how it looked straining wetly against the cage, both flesh and metal shiny with spit.

Something compels him to draw back and say, “This is pretty different.”

Gojou’s hand tightens in his hair, just for a moment. “Oh?”

Yuuji looks up, forcing down a shiver when he finds blue eyes gone two shades darker, still gleaming with their own fire. “Y-yeah. He was all locked up.”

“Locked up,” Gojou echoes faintly, blinking once.

“A cage,” Yuuji clarifies. “Mostly metal in my mouth. It wasn’t bad though. I liked it. Not that I don’t like this! You taste good.”

“Thanks,” Gojou says, but it sounds absent. He’s staring at Yuuji like he’s never seen him before, and that could be concerning, but Yuuji feels weirdly…powerful.

He licks his lips, his spent cock throbbing when Gojou’s eyes follow the motion shamelessly.

“Hey, Gojou-sensei,” he asks, “do you like that kinda thing too?”

His cock twitches in Yuuji’s grip.

“Huh,” says Yuuji. “Guess you do.”

“You were right, Yuuji,” Gojou says, almost before Yuuji’s done speaking. “I do like you on your knees. But I’m gonna have to ask you to get up and fuck me now.”

[notesapp-lyricist]

original disco elysium skill system yayy

went down an entire rabbit hole. made a disco elysium style skill system based on how i personally function for reasons that totally make sense. so i thought before i start posting about it without any context i'd do like a summary of it. also they all have really elaborate descriptions but those can wait. until then enjoy the absolute jackshit my brain has come up with during the past few weeks. and w.bg references. very bad ones.

mens

(the answers await within silent halls. learn to listen.)

mental library - research addiction

compartmentalisation: neat little boxes within boxes within boxes within boxes and verbs starting with c for some reason, base would be proud

eloquence: reiterating the exact same point 4+ times using words fancy enough to still get full credit on a latin exam. using latin in everyday conversations in an attempt to sound fancy. constantly quoting kafka.

prudentia:

limited hangout: "no anne i don't know what the fourth challenge is"

lateral thinking: who gives a shit if you sit backwards on the horse if you get across the river

mores

(your dreams no longer speak to you, and their parting words were “this is who you are, this is what you have made yourself”.)

culpa: "oh no the consequences of my actions and everyone else's actions and also actions that didn't actually have any consequences i'm gonna cry about it now"

cerebral weave: cerebral weave isn't a word. your cerebrum wove that one.

sehnsucht: "i am literally going to tear out my arteries if i don't (insert any vague concept of purpose)"

per aspera identidem: "things always go to shit at one point but it sucks a lot less with one of those spiky balls"

cor: :(

penumbra: "fuck you my soul isn't just vast it's the fucking mariana trench" (alternatively "the cubic content of my soul is obscured by repressed memories")

corpus

(your body knows before you do. each heartbeat a reminder of the fear and the rushing of blood within.)

flinch:

jähzorn: "i am literally going to tear out your arteries if you don't stfu"

detachment: "what i'm not dissociating this is not dissociation this is composure"

hypervigilance: *stares (menacingly)*

triage: "i am being held together by duct tape and spite"

puls: that moment when you keep moving solely because of the inertia of it despite ripping apart at the seams

concordia

(there is a music beyond you. hum, and it will hum with you.)

dissonance: "you're different. live with it."

resonance: the uncanny synchronicity between two people that happens about once in a blue moon, and the yearning for it.

orchestra: the feeling of belonging to a group that also only happens once a blue moon, and the yearning for it

pizzicato: fine motorics. the moment when your hands become a tool rather than just a source of pain.

cadenza: "to be human is to perform."

echoes: "the world is a symphony, and you will hear her hum if you only choose to listen."

just as a side note about the categories, mens and mores are pretty obvious i think (brain shit and personality shit), corpus is like. visceral instincts, fear responses and protection mechanisms and whatnot, and concordia is just generally about how you interact with the world, socially and physically

also. there is a playlist https://open.spotify.com/playlist/11bsl0krT3uZ4wL76B2lC3?si=RAg_p1h5S5mj2VL7ZBwk9w&pi=e-Fu3w5C9YQ9G0

[hammerhead-jpg]

Idk if I'm ever gonna finish the refs for my redacted ocs, but here are their logos

I could make some doodles of their designs or smth idk....

I wrote some info about them under the cut if ya curious (that ended up being a lot longer than I expected so behold)

Taurus

I already made a ref sheet for Taurus so I already wrote down some info about him there so you can go see that if you wanna

I can only imagine since I established that he's friends or at least knows every single redacted de(a)mon and also is a part of the chorus that if he would be on the redacted channel he'd successfully force himself into practically every storyline.

Practically all redacted ocs that I made I more imagine as side characters than as "main" characters so they don't really have a listener, but I guess his listener would technically be freelancer.

I imagine he remembers the cacophony well, even though he wants to forget it.

Gin Asari

I'm very aware that Gin wouldn't really work as a character since, to be a sibling to a listener would mean to not have them have a distinct background, race or gender (or at least agab) since this is specifically an identical twin brother, because unless them and the listener are not blood related (and in this case they are) the characters background, race and gender would allude to the listeners background, race and gender which you're not supposed to do. But because I have already made up the listeners background race and gender as if they were an oc as most people do, I haven't really thought about this.

Anyways, this is Gin Asari! Lovely's twin brother! And if you haven't noticed they are the main character of the oc fic I wrote some time ago. I actually made 4 more chapters for that fic but didn't post it since I thought it wasn't good enough and also people hate fics written in first person for some reason.

I don't really remember why I made this oc either, I guess just because I wanted to explore the idea of a electro-energetic baddy, even though they don't really have their electric powers yet since they haven't experienced a traumatic enough experience and Lovely hasn't told them in fear that they would try to traumatize themselves on purpose to get them. I also wanted to explore Adam's backstory through them (btw I fucking struggled to make the timelines align to find out what age they are).

For those of you who haven't read the fic ("the fic" meaning also the chapters I didn't publish so I guess that's like all of you) here's a quick summary: Lovely's twin brother (who at this point isn't in contact with Lovely since Lovely ran away from their parents when they were 16) is chilling in med school with their roommate: Adam Jessup. That is, all until Adam disappears one day and is found dead in a car crash, except, Adam didn't really die and he just got turned willingly. Adam returns one year later by sneaking into Gin's room. There, Adam descides to feed on them and after realizing they're willing to let him feed on them, let's them live and starts a very unhealthy relationship where he returns to feed on them every week or so. That is until he gets addicted to their humanborn latent electro energetic blood and every week or so becomes every night. The induced anemia and stress from overworking themselves due to their parent's high expectations, Gin's mental state starts to decline. That is until they find out that Adam is a literal serial killer and he basically tries to murder them since they didn't want to continue their relationship. They run away to Dahlia, both from him and from their parents, until a couple of years later they meet Lovely, now a vampire, by chance, and they catch up and learn that Adam has been upgraded to a decapitated skeleton under a broken down rollercoaster.

I realize that I mostly wrote their backstory and not their current story, like I don't really know what happens after they catch up with Lovely. Do they descide to keep in touch with the Solaire clan or do they go back to their normal life? Does Lovely tell them about the whole electric energetic thing? Do they befriend the other vampires? I don't know! I haven't decided yet.

Methuselah

I'm trying to figure out what this fool's nickname would be besides just Meth.

I thought to myself "what was the first de(a)mon created like? What are they doing?" So I started brainstorming ideas until they eventually became an oc.

So Methuselah (named after the oldest known star, I wanted to be the first star given a name but all that popped up was the oldest star), an inchoate, the first created demon, the one who has lived for thousands of years, fought in the cacophony and created the chorus and serve as kind of a makeshift leader of it.

Some may say that Meth here is what you would call a mary sue but you know as they say when I create a character that's the world's best assassin, a science experiment possessed by a god of anger who has a corrupted form that slowly kills them when they use it, they get called a Mary Sue, but when Asagiri Kafka does it it's "I love Chuuya Nakahara!!"

If Taurus is jaded by his long ongoing life Methuselah is the most jaded of them all. Just basically barely cares about the things going around them. Even if they did care about keeping relationships everyone except some of the chorus members is scared of them due to their overwhelming power, both magical and political.

When the ruling council descided to include de(a)mons in it they were the first demon asked if they would want to join as a representative for inchoate demons their response was to spit in their face and say "was that the answer you were looking for?"

I imagine that they are currently dealing with the whole Hush situation, and that in the first time in thousands of years, they're scared of death. After the cacophony in which they almost died, saw many deaths including the death of their first and only friend, they thought that if another life threatening situation occurred they wouldn't be scared to die for the cause, but now that they're faced with a person that is not only stronger than them but could kill them in a second, they're scared of death after so many years of being untouchable.

Miles Deen

One time, my lovely mutual @cyc-chilla once said in a post about wether or not redacted characters get biches, that Frederick only seems to attract extremely shady and terribly shifty dumpster opossum men, and I thought to myself "he absolutely does"

So Miles Deen was born.

If you identify as a garbage dwelling raccoon trash goblin you obviously haven't met Miles

The icon of the two bandaids and the description of "the thrall" doesn't encapsulate him well enough, it should've been an icon of a garbage can and he should've been titled "the trash dweller" if I wanted to be accurate.

Basically, Miles is an informed unempowered guy who was a couple of years ago attacked by a shade, but instead of having all of his life force drained, he only got half of his life force drained and later found out via seer that he would only live to 27 (he's currently 25, 21 when he found out)

He's also homeless because he got kicked out of his parents house after he couldn't find a job due to his clinical depression, so as you can imagine his life wasn't looking too good.

But, he descided to keep living and use the fact that he's going to die young as a motivator to live without fear and also made a bucket list of things he wanted to do before he died.

One of those things was being fed on by a vamp, and that is how he finds himself on Solaire clan territory and is found by Fred. The rest is history.

Fred is convinced he is insane but he kinda likes that about him. Bright eyes does not like him at all.

He somehow always gets himself into trouble and then the clan is forced to protect him in all kinds of batshit situations.

If he was actually on the redacted channel, he'd probably never appear or would maybe be mentioned by name once, just because I descided to make a character for a deleted discontinued series.

Sadly, I think his story probably would end with him dying peacefully in his sleep, since he wouldn't want to get turned and him getting turned would be kinda a stupid thing writing wise since it's kinda stupid to build up the idea of a character dying only to have them live anyway (and his whole character is built on the idea that he's going to die young)

Ezra Solaire

One day, I thought to myself "Christian needs a gay awakening" and so he did.

Ezra is a cayote shifter and part of the Solaire clan, raised by William since birth.

He seems very sweet, and he is but he's also brutally honest.

He'd never let a vamp feed on him (William even set up that you are to be executed if you attempt to feed on him without his permission) but he does donate blood to the clan often. He has so many "I donated blood" stickers.

I imagine he's friends with Darlin', which is how he ended up meeting the Shaw pack

I keep thinking about what his talk with William would be like after the summit, cause it would be absolutely heartbreaking

Because I imagine Ezra was one of the people that wasn't told about the plan, so with Ezra who just wanted a normal life, now learning that the Solaire clan which they already didn't like being in since about 90% of the clan didn't like them, is/is going to become some sort of vigilante assassin squad and also feeling like their relationship with the Shaw pack is destroyed, the place where they actually felt like they had a normal life and a family, I can only imagine how upset they'd be.

But on the other hand, William is like a father to him and he couldn't imagine how it would be to leave him, and he'd also be leaving behind the few people he was close friends with in the clan (like Vincent) and he also wouldn't think it would be right to have William supporting him financially with a house and a job when he was leaving the clan, so he would have not only have his financial and social support cut, but also physical since, I forgot to mention but, he has multiple sclerosis and is disabled, so he sometimes needs a caregiver to help him do everyday tasks (which would usually be by William, Vincent or an assistant William hired). So yeah, I can only imagine how he must feel.

Atlas Madden

Watch out John I'm stealing your name or smth

To be completely transparent, I did create Atlas just to ship him with Scorpius. I know I'm cringe but I'm free

Atlas is a freelancer who works as a healer, but also has an interest in water magic and shifter magic. How is a non-shifter good at shifter magic? He isn't! He likes morphing into a disturbing half wolf half human creature and scaring people in it!

So umm I may have brainstormed Scorpiuses backstory on a whim by accident...whoops...hate when that happens

So going forward any Scorpius lore I drop is my headcannons and not actual lore

I swear this is important to Atlas

Okay so: I imagine that before being captured by close knit Scorpius worked in this kind of strip club where the whole shtick was that incubi were the strippers. The strippers weren't also escorts but if they chose you you could potentially go home with them.

That's how Scorpius and Atlas met.

Atlases friends brought him to this strip club mostly as a joke and Atlas was kinda uncomfortable the whole time.

Until he caught Scorpiuses eye, who then decided to enact his flirt persona and bring him home.

After that, Atlas eventually became his charge and they would meet every so often.

They both agreed for no strings attached, Scorpius didn't really like hookup culture but needed to get energy one way or another, but Atlas wanted him to know that he respected him as a person and wanted them to be at least friends.

One day, Atlas pushed the friendliness a little too far and Scorpius told him that he doesn't need to try to appeal to him so he could feel like a good person. Atlas got offended by this because he really just wanted to be nice, not because he wanted to pat himself on the back.

An argument ensued and Scorpius left without getting an energy feeding. He went on, trying to find somebody else to feed on, and that is when he gets tricked and captured by close knit. With no way to communicate to Atlas, Atlas believes Scorpius left him for good.

I have a lot more planned out for them but that takes place after Scorpius leaves the basement, which as you can see he hasn't yet, so I'm obviously waiting til that happens so I'm not writing lore for something that hasn't happened yet.

So um yeah

[08melancholie]

Honeysuckle and Whiskey. — Micah Bell/OC

tags: Mid-Canon, Video Game: Red Dead Redemption 2 (2018), Chapter 1: Colter (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 3: Clemens Point (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 4: Saint Denis (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 5: Guarma (Red Dead Redemption 2), Chapter 6: Beaver Hollow (Red Dead Redemption 2), How Do I Tag, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Angst and Fluff and Smut, just a dash of smut, mainly fluff and angst, Abuse, Past Abuse, Abusive Relationships, past abusive relationships, Grooming, Implied/Referenced Grooming, Pedophilia, Implied/Referenced Pedophilia, Colm O'Driscoll Being an Asshole, Torture, Burning, Stockholm Syndrome, descriptive torture, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, or a secret fourth thing, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Romantic Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Attempted Sexual Assault

summary: Closed-off and rough; mean and unforgiving, uncaring and simply horrible. The apathetic cowboy draws himself no attention, usually. He's always sat around camp, slumped over a table or bent down, elbows on his knees as he cleans his guns or sharpens his knife, carving the one same piece of wood for days. He didn't talk much; he felt himself way too high above the others to even converse—exception being Dutch.

That's who Micah Bell was, simply. She couldn't change it.

Micah Bell is a threat to anyone that crosses his path, and Melody knows it. So why has she gotten herself so involved with the outlaw? She tried to keep to herself countless of times; he hated her, she wasn't a pure American and that alone should have been enough to draw her away—and yet it simply never did.

Maybe it was just a rebound, wanting to feel something after feeling nothing from her horrible, previous partner—similar in many ways to the blonde cowboy—for years. Maybe it was his careless and cocky demeanor she never failed to give a chuckle to. And maybe, it was something more. She was going to figure it out, one way or another. They would; together.

a/n: ive had this cooking for months and this is the first of it im posting so im VERY nervous... :( it was going to be a long oneshot at first BUT im forcing myself to do it in chapters so that i have to continue writing it because ive neglected it for months now. also tags are going to change a lot probably

words: 2,658 | AO3 LINK I. — MASTERLIST

The wind picked up quicker than before as Melody rode along Colm through the storm. She could feel her body shivering no matter how many layers of coats and undershirts she put on before riding out. She gently brushed her horse's nose, trying to comfort her through the storm. "You reckon we're gonna find it soon? Joey said it's nearby.." She spoke up, looking to the man to her left.

"Surely. Hold on a bit longer." He replied coldly, riding his horse through the piles of snow effortlessly. She picked up her pace too, riding alongside his steed. "We gotta push a bit more." He added, his gloved hand rested on his lap.

She continued riding until the blizzard started clearing off, and they had a better view of the landscape before themselves. That's when he and Melody both noticed it; an abandoned outpost, exactly what Joey found before parting with the gang to seek it out. "Is that it?" She asked, hand hovering over her forehead to get a better view and block out the snow falling from above. "It sure looks like it."

He halted his horse next to her. "Must be it, c'mon." He ordered, and she followed him down the mountain.

They hitched their horses outside, and she followed close behind Colm. With her hand on her holstered revolver, Melody snuck around behind Colm, checking rooms with caution. "Clear!" He yelled to the rest of the gang, who moved their carriages in and hitched their horses next to their own. "Good job spottin' this gem. I'm sure Joey will be here soon." He says to Melody, taking a cigarette out of his box and offering her one. She nods, taking the offered cigarette and popping it into her mouth.

He manages to light a match on the denim of his jeans, holding it up to the tip of his cigarette "I sure hope so. We ain't seen him a few days." Melody comments, letting him light her cigarette soon after his own. "We already been losin' too much folk." She adds.

"Don't you worry. I've got it under control; those were necessary sacrifices, child." He says, his words not as reassuring as she'd hoped. Still, she nods with a small smile at him and watches him return it.

She moved her few things into the cabin closest to Colm's—by his command. Melody huffed as she finished setting everything, walking out to check everyone else's progress. She observed them with another cigarette hanging from her mouth. "You done unpackin', kid?" Colm came up behind her, hands rested on his hips as he watched everyone work alongside Melody. "How quick you are." He adds.

Melody just chuckled, blowing smoke into the cold air above. "Yes, I'm done. Do you need any help? Anything I could do for you?" She asks him, awkwardly fiddling with the cigarette between her fingers.

"Maybe." He replies, placing his hand on her shoulder as he continues watching. "Got a train 'round here that needs robbin'. Buncha snobby, rich nobodies." He explains. "We need dynamite. I got a plan on how to rob 'em."

"I'm sure I can find myself a general store nearby, I'll buy some." Melody replies, puffing a cloud of tobacco into the air.

He firmed his grip on her shoulder, his grip tight. "Attagirl." He whispered into her ear, and she just exhaled with a weak smile. "That's why you're my favourite." His breath brushed against her ear, and it made a chill travel along Melody's spine.

First night in her own cabin was weird, everything about it—from the cold temperature swearing to kill her of frostbite, to insomnia from fear they were occupying someone's outpost and would be shot in their sleep—just felt off, and Melody found herself tossing in her restless state on the mildly uncomfortable bedroll.

So much has happened in the last few weeks; from having to move camp a dozen times, losing a few weaker members in the process—to Colm's weird obsession with a rival gang rising again after he swore they were done with it.

Melody got up and stretched her legs out, anxiously lighting her fourth cigarette today for any sense of warmth it'll offer. "Fuck this damned storm." She looked out of the window as the specks of snow danced around the air, covering more ground and raising the snow level, little by little.

She finished the cigarette in a few minuscule minutes, and climbed back under the thin covers, trying to get some shuteye before tomorrow.

"You sure you ain't wanna come, Melody? It'll do you good to go out'a bit." Colm straddled his horse, looking down at her before him as Melody stroked his horse's nose.

"I'm far too tired, Colm. Plus, I need to get started on some chores and.. fixing this place up a bit." She replied, looking around at the buried outpost grounds, covered with thick layers of snow.

He chuckled, a sense of lust in his eyes as he looked down. "That's my girl; always so hard workin' for old Colm." He praised. "Someone's gonna have to reward you nicely for your contributions." He chuckled slyly, making Melody scrunch up her nose briefly. "Well then, I'll leave you to it." He urged his horse forward with a swift kick in the ribs, leaving the camp grounds.

Melody sighed, turning to make a mental note of all that needs to be done around camp before starting her round of chores, running on one cup of warm coffee and two hours of rest. Just great.

Colm returned in a few hours, a crate of province and some dynamite on his horse's back. She walked over to him, grabbing the province to put it away. "Hey. You got the dynamite?" She questioned him.

He hitched his horse, taking the dynamite and walking close by Melody, towards his cabin. "Yeah.. Figured I'd get it off your hands since I knew you'd be workin' hard by the time I was back," He responded, chuckling. "and I see that I was right, my good girl's being very productive, ain't ya?" He opened his cabin door with his elbow, placing the dynamite in the corner.

Melody chuckled nervously; his words leaving a distaste in her mouth, per usual. "Well, thank you Colm." She replied simply.

"Anything for you, child." He walked up to her, placing a firm grasp on her shoulders again. "I saw someone all too familiar while ridin' to the store." He announces, releasing his hands and placing them behind his back.

"Do tell." She answered, sitting down on his desk, swaying her feet off the edge slowly as she hunched over and placed her forearms on her knees. He turned, a mischievous grin on his lips.

He paces around the room. "Little ole Hosea Matthews, saw him on my way there." He answers, and Melody is taken aback by his words; which Colm just chuckles at. "Yeah, I'm surprised he ain't seen me."

She cocks her head at him. "You reckon he ain't recognised you?" She asked. "All them years of conflict, you sure he ain't just ignored you in hopes of gettin' out in one piece?" She chuckled briefly.

He stops abruptly, laughing. "Oh, sweet child. You're quite funny." He walks over in her direction. "You could be right." He says, placing each hand on one side of her body, which stiffens at the contact; now trapped on the table. "You know, you're such a smart girl, I could lis-"

A not-so-distant gunshot goes off, scaring both people in the process. "The hell..?" Melody mutters, awkwardly slipping away from his entrapment to a window. "I reckon my theory was right.. except he also snitched." Colm walked up behind Melody, looking out of the window.

Outside stood a fraction of Dutch Van der Linde's gang; Arthur Morgan, Micah Bell, Hosea Matthews and—of course—Dutch himself.

"Ah, fuck." he cursed under his breath. "Okay, girl. You go cover me while I.. I need to move away from the area." He explains frantically.

"Yeah.. Yeah I can do that." Melody says—already used to this by now—and, taking her revolver out of its holster swiftly, walks up to the door. She opens it slowly, leaving it ajar for Colm to slip out as she starts shooting back, catching the leader's glimpse.

His accuracy is almost perfect as he glazed both a strand of her hair just above her ear and immediately catches on to start shooting at the door she finds shelter behind. She takes a shot of her own, missing the first but taking his hat off just above his forehead as he ducks.

The shootout was brutal; only a few of Colm's members survived it, with some successfully hiding away from the area as they searched the outpost. Melody watched them take the train plans, along with their dynamite, and hurry off while boasting about it all, feeling victorious.

"How is it my fault, Colm? I did my best to protect you, I managed to shoot one in the arm, too!" Melody defended herself against Colm's usual outburst when things go wrong; where he blames every soul but himself, no matter if it's nobody's or everybody's fault.

He grunted angrily. "I don't care! They took the plans, and we have to move again!" He complains. Melody opens her mouth to protest, but is met with his hand high in the air before her—threatening to strike; something she's all too used to. "Don't. I don't wanna see you talkin' back to me." He ordered firmly.

And yet she still attempts to speak—like the fool she is. "Colm, I'm just trying to-"

And there it is. She's met with a hard, rough slap of the back of his hand, knocking her to the floor as Melody clenches her rosy red cheek, already teary-eyed. She opens her mouth to apologise, but decides against it as she notices that look in his eyes. He shakes his head in disapproval at her on the floor, choking up a silent sob. And so, she just gets up and walks out to pack her things.

Packing didn't take nearly as long as expected; calming herself did. She had everything in one crate, and was sitting on the bedroll in the cabin with a burning sensation on her left cheek, and a few slow tears trailing her cheekbones and falling into her lap. This was like routine, really; he'd get mad and take it out on her, leave her alone to sulk and then-

The door opens slowly, and Colm's body slowly steps inside—like clockwork. "Hey.. don't be cryin' on me, my sweet Melody. You know.." He sits down on the bedroll next to her. "You know I do it out of love. You know I sometimes lose my temper, don'tcha?" He asked, interwinding his hand into Melody's, rubbing the back of her hand.

"Yes, Colm." She replies simply, looking down at the floor.

Another teardrop meets her lap and she quickly brushes her face with her sleeves.

"Look at me." He commands, placing a uncharacteristically gentle yet firm hand on Melody's chin. "I love you. You know I do." His voice is as firm as his touch, and she just silently nods. She can't help wondering if it's even close to true sometimes. You don't treat someone you love like this, she's well aware of that much. "Good. Good... And you love me too." It's less of a question, and more of a fact to him.

Melody chokes up a response to break the silence. "I do, Colm." She holds his hand just as firmly as he stands up. "Let me get your things, child." He takes the crate off of the nearby table. She just smiles downwards, walking beside him. And that's how the routine ends, every time.

"We'll drive the wagon, girl." He calls out as Melody start straddling her horse. She looks at him with protest, opening her mouth to talk. "Ah Ah.. C'mon, you're with me. Cassidy'll take good care of your horse." He taps the seat on the coach next to him-and she can't not-oblige, leaving the reins in Cassidy's hands reluctantly. "Attagirl." He watches Melody sit down next to him.

The ride to a new spot is painfully long, and Melody is shivering throughout the whole thing-despite having multiple layers of shirts and jackets and putting gloves on her hands this time. "Where're we goin'?" She asks him, breaking the tense silence among us.

"Off the mountain; there's a spot I scouted out." He replies, hands gripping the coaches reins firmly. "It'll be better for all of us to get out of the cold." He looks at her shivering quickly, snaking his hand around Melody's shoulder and pulling her closer to him.

She obliges and scoots closer, resting her head on his shoulder. "Thank the Lord, then." She snickers, and he exhales with a smirk. "I'll be more than glad to be off that damned mountain.

"Oh, I know; you're shaking like a leaf, girl." He chuckles. "It's a nicer spot too, you'll love it," He snuggles her body closer, pressing her up to his side. "all the best for my best girl." His gloved hand rubs her shoulder, gentle—not like Colm at all.

She soon feels herself—restless from the night before along with the shootout and what followed—start to drift off on his shoulder, and he lets Melody sleep for a little while. She hated how easily she could forgive him for doing what he does, but he might really just have a temper. He's trying. He's trying. That's all she knows, and it's just how he is. Right.

The stage stops at a nice, slightly open area with a few smaller huts and barriers around it. Colm nudges Melody awake slowly, rubbing rough circles on her shoulder. "We're here, girl." He whispers into her ear as she lifts her head off his shoulder and rubs her eyes awake. The warmth of the new location can be immediately recognized, nice and actually comfortable. "C'mon. You'll be in my cabin. With me." He reveals, jumping off the coach as she follows.

"I'll be in the same cabin as you?" Melody repeats his words, puzzled, as she takes her crate with a grunt before following him. He nods his head, stopping before—obviously the biggest cabin—their spot.

"Of course, child." He simply replies, taking the crate she held off of her hands and walking inside. "Ain't it great?" Melody silently nods to answer, almost reluctantly. "Go get the rest of the things from the coach and meet me here." Melody quickly turns on her heels and walks out back to the coach.

They both finish unpacking around the same time, and Melody patiently waits for him to finish whatever on the edge of a cot. "Okay, girl." He firmly taps his thighs and stands up, beckoning her to follow him outside. She obliges quickly, walking right behind him. He calls everyone in a circle, explaining a new score he's gotten information for. Melody can feel herself distracted and spacing out, knowing she won't be invited to the job—per usual, Colm just doesn't trust her enough to let her go with him. As infuriating as it is, her hands are tied.

Maybe she'll get that luxury one day.

Kudos on AO3 always appreciated! I'm honestly so glad to have even just the first chapter of this fic out, as it's been collecting dust in my drafts until the one month deadline—literally the last possible day.

[morningstargirl666]

Hey, just finished my re-read of TBBW and am looking forward to new chapters, any idea of when they will be posted? Keep writing and rocking!

Oh thank you! ✨❤️✨ I've had several asks like this over the past several months and my answer has always been different lol because I always end up writing more.

Not sure how up-to-date you are with what's happening with TBBW so I'll explain: the editing I talked about doing in the end notes of the last chapter I posted? Yeah, kinda turned into a full rewrite.

I started writing TBBW in 2020 and I like to believe my skill as a writer has grown a lot since then and not only that, but the story has grown too. It's evolved into something so much greater than I ever thought it would be. Originally, it was gonna be like 20 chapters? And it wasn't going to be a full canon rewrite, there was going to be time jumps instead, moving onto season 4 quickly - there was no damon murder arc - it was almost a completely different fic. The story that it is now, the one posted on AO3 isn't even a full canon rewrite, more a canon divergence --- but what I'm writing right now certainly is.

I lasted until chapter 5 before I started adding new chapters. As the chapter count stands right now (43, no longer 35) I know its not set in stone because if I've written 8 new chapters already and I'm only on chapter 30, I'm bound to write more by the time I'm done. Elijah, Kol and Rebekah are much more central to the story, with their own flashback chapters and character arcs weaved into the subplots. I've slowed down the Klaroline development even further so it feels like you're there with them, getting to know them, slowly falling in love with them as they are each other. Sam and Kiera are now much more developed and well-rounded characters, with conflicts with Klaus. The Mystic Falls gang are more present, and you get to see Caroline's relationships with her friends and Tyler evolve and twist and strain and bind tighter, depending on the situation.

This rewrite has dozens of new scenes (at this point I've lost count how many), dozens more of extended scenes and dialogue (I'm currently writing chapter 30, which will now be entirely klaroline, set after the 20s decade dance when Klaus drives her home) and the word count is continuely rising. I actually broke google docs and hit the word count limit so I've had to split the rewrite into two docs: PART 1 (Chapters 1-21) and PART 2 (Chapters 22-43? 45? Who fucking knows at this point). I'm on about 280/290k rn overall. And although I'm writing chapter 30 currently, I haven't actually finished 30 chapters --- I've only completely finished around 25 and many of them need editing once this rewrite is finished.

I'm hoping I'll be finished by Christmas, my present to you all. But I can't garrentee it. Whenever the update comes, it's going to be posted all at once and you will be able to devour it to your hearts desire. The new chapters, which I guess were originally going to be chapter 36 and 37, are drafted out a little bit but I gotta admit stuff doesn't really start happening till the end of 37, as I'm basically starting a new subplot arc. It's mostly canon and/or filler stuff to start with, so not that exciting. I doubt they'll take long to finish once the rewrite is done, but I make no promises. After that, I'll be back on my bullshit of regular chapter updates, hopefully. Then the fun really begins.

Whatever the case, when this update lands, I'm hoping to blow your socks off. Jury's out on whether that'll happen, but I guess we'll see.

(It's going to be awesome, hehehe)

[butmakeitgayblog]

ADHD here, please tell me, teach me, write instruction to how brush and floss your teeth three times a day.

Please.

Do you set alarm clocks? Do you have apps that reminds you? T_T

And no, wisdom teeth ARE NOT easy.

I gotchu

👇👇👇👇

Nope no apps or alarms. It's all less about a schedule, and more just working it into your eating routine. Making flossing and brushing part of your eating process is the easiest way rather than just relying on memory or "oop it's 1pm, gotta brush!" when you may not even eat lunch until 2, you get me?

Here's my process:

1. Brush before you eat breakfast. If you feel a bit nauseous in the mornings, try and sip some water to settle it down, but whatever you do, do not eat or drink anything other than water before your first brush. Why?

Eating softens the enamel! Acidic drinks (coffee, juice, etc) softens the enamel! If you eat/drink and then brush, you are quite literally brushing away your teefie's lil coat of armor!

2. Brush yo damn tongue. I know it sucks. I know you'll gag. It's hell. Do it anyway. I'm suffering with you ✊

3. Don't just go crazy everywhere in there. If you're zigzagging around your mouth like it's Mario kart, you're missing spots. I brush in sections to guarentee coverage. Top right molars - front, bottom, back, back edge. Bottom right molars - front, top, back, back edge. Etc. In total, six sections each brushed exactly the same.

I'm fully aware written down it sounds OCD levels of bullshit, but I promise, it's the same 2-3 minutes spent brushing as usual, just organized and effective rather than pure chaos and a prayer of plaque removal 🥴

Also, don't brush too hard. If your bristles are bent and smooshed, ease up my god you're brushing away the enamel by force 😳

4. After you brush and spit - Do. Not. Rinse.

Don't.

Put the water down.

If at most you have to refresh the tongue from feeling weirdly coated, take a tiny sip of water and gurgle only on the back of the tongue and spit.

I say this because the longer the toothpaste stays on your teeth, the better. You want that flouride and whatnot doing its thing on your enamel and gum line as long as possible, so give it as much time as you can and let your mouth naturally clean it out. It will.

5. Floss after every meal. Every one. It will become a habit and you'll start to hate the feeling of not flossing after. Floss after snacks!!! If it's solid food, floss. Period. Flossers can and will become your best friend because they are so convenient. I love them, I just keep a few in the zipper part of my wallet and whenever I'm out, I can (and do) floss on the go.

Side note, there is a right and wrong way to floss. So, be mindful of that.

6. Other than morning time, brush after meals when you can, HOWEVER!!!! WAIT AT LEAST 20 MINUTES (see part 1.) In those 20 minutes after you finish eating, drink water and thoroughly swish it around your mouth to help dilute the acid sitting on your teeth. Floss during this time as well to get the crud out from between your teeth so it's not just sitting there. If you're out in public or at a job where you can't brush after lunch, brush as soon as you get home. Literally take off your shoes, hang up your coat, kiss your pet (or spouse or... idk houseplant) hello, and then go brush.

8. After your final brushing of the day, eat or drink nothing else but water. Nothing.

Look at me

Nothing else ಠ_ಠ

If you do want to eat or drink again, gonna have to wait 20 min and brush again 🤷‍♀️

So you see, it's less about a schedule and more just working the act of brushing and flossing into your normal eating routine. Make the two synonymous. Make it part of your meal process. Eat. Floss. Rinse with water. Wait, then brush.

Important*****

For those who have days when they cannot mentally or physically make themselves brush, listen to me. I understand. It's ok. Believe me, I do know more than I ever say on here. But don't do nothing. If that is you, keep a small bottle of listerine next to your bed/chair so you can swish and spit. Buy a bag of flossers and keep those near you to at least floss. Buy those little one use brusher sticks/a clean rag and toothpaste and use those. If that's the best you can do, there's no shame in that. I promise your future self will be so, so grateful for these little things, because even a little is better than nothing. And in the end you deserve to have your mouth feel fresh, even when you yourself don't have the spoons to do much else.