#Taking a stupid little nap for his stupid little mental health

[shannonsketches]

To be loved is to be changed or whatever

[storywriter007]

Hi!! First off, I love your work. You are amazing. Okay so my request is basically I have two, both being Percy Jackson x reader comfort fics. Feel free to do one or both of neither!

1) Percy Jackson x reader where the reader has a lot of mental health struggles and is feeling very anxious and overwhelmed and overworked and dissociates a lot more than normal, but is bottling it all up from everyone and trying so hard to be okay and fine, even to her boyfriend Percy who can definitely tell something is off but doesn't want to push it. Maybe show some times he tries to get her to open up but she brushes him off. Then, she just breaks and has a panic attack and complete breakdown, and she ends up dropping something glass and cutting herself on it, and Percy finds her in the middle of it and helps her and comforts her and then they talk about it after.

2) This one is Percy Jackson x reader who gets seriously injured on the Argo II and tries to act like it's not that bad but then Percy (her boyfriend) forces her to let him look at it and it is really bad and he takes care of her and comforts her (kinda like the Leo fic where he cleans the wound on her back because I love that one so much), and then helps her fall asleep after.

Again feel free to do neither or both or just one, thank you so much I love your work!!

I've Got You - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: thank you for the requests! i will answer them in two seperate posts, this one is the first one you asked for!

author's note 2: i'm so glad you enjoy my work like you have no idea how much it means to me

warnings: cursing, self-doubt, reader is struggling mentally, mentions of blood

genre: fluff

word count: 1.2k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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"are you okay?" a voice called out, replaying itself in the background.

y/n felt someone shake her and she snapped out of her daze.

"y/n." percy said, looking into her eyes. "are you okay? what's going on? you've been staring at the wall for the past ten minutes."

"nothing." she responded, unconvincingly.

percy gave her that look. like the one a mother gives her child when she catches them with their hand down the cookie jar.

"nothing!" she smiled, cheering up. "i'm fine, just a little tired."

"do you want to sleep in my cabin? maybe visit the hypnos cabin?" he proposed.

he was so sweet.

"no, no. i'm fine, just worn out." she lied. "i'm gonna take a nap."

"okay." he said, his voice doubtful.

he kissed the top of her head before leaving her cabin. as soon as she was alone, y/n's head dropped into her hands as she clutched her hair.

what is wrong with me her mind screamed.

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"are you sure you don't want to go to sleep?" percy asked, sitting on y/n's floor.

"for the hundreth time, yes percy, i'm fine." she said, starting to get annoyed.

she knows, he just cares about her, but she just couldn't right now.

"you don't have to do all of this in one day." he reminded. "all of this is due in a week."

a week isn't enough time her mind yelled.

"percy." she said, looking him in the eye. "i'm fine. i swear."

then she shot her that stupid look again.

"i'm fine!" she defended.

"okay, okay." he said. "i'm going to go to bed. stop by my cabin if you need anything."

now she felt bad. he was just looking out for her.

"i'm sorry." she smiled. "and i will. but trust me, i'm fine."

he gave her a smile back. but, it wasn't a good-luck or i-love-you smile. it was a you're-a-fucking-liar-and-i'll-leave-you-alone-but-i-don't-believe-you. percy left and y/n rested her head on her bunk as she looked up at the wood. tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

how was she going to do it? she felt like the world was on her back even more than usual.

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y/n stood in percy's cabin after he insisted that she spend the night with him. she picked up a picture frame that was on his nightstand. it was cute, it was a picture of him and y/n laying down in the new york snow.

she smiled, but a feeling of dread crept up on her as she clutched the glass.

you've got so much to do. you have such little time. i mean, you're a weak excuse of a demi-god. i mean, c'mon, who gets this stressed out? who zones out this much? percy doesn't deserve this. he deserves better. he needs better. he needs someone who isn't a borderline psycho. he's a hero. what are you? a wannabe. a parasite. he's going to leave you sooner or later. it's just a matter of time. oh are you going to cry now? you're such a fucking crybaby.

she dropped the glass. shards hit the floor as tears fell from her eyes. she held her knees to her chest and put her head in her bloody hand as she wept.

"y/n?" percy asked, shutting the door behind him.

"oh-oh my god, percy, i'm so so so sorry." she said, cleaning up the glass that had just shattered everywhere. "i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry."

"hey, it's okay." he smiled, dropping down next to her. "it's just a picture, i have it on my computer."

"no, no, i'm such an idiot. i'm so sorry." she said, hiding her teary eyes from him. "i can't do anything right."

"what? that's not true, don't say that."

"but it is true." she whispered, tears falling from her eyes.

"hey hey hey." he said, turning her face so she was forced to look at his sea green eyes. "i've got you."

she couldn't keep it in anymore. wells of tears fell from her eyes as she violently trembled. percy pulled her into him, placing her head on his chest. she wept into him as the familiar smell of salt-water flooded her nose.

"i've got you, it's alright." he said.

his voice was so soft and calming.

"i'm so so sorry." she breathed out. "i've been so mean to you and i, i broke your picture frame and now i'm bleeding all over you floor, and you probably hate me."

he backed up for a minute and looked down at her hands. they were covered in blood.

"it's okay, it's okay, don't worry about it." he said, kissing her forehead. "i've got you. c'mon, let's wrap this up."

he stood up, and basically picked her up so she would stand too.

"i don't want to go to the infirmary-"

"we don't have to." he assured. "let's wash the blood off, and i have gauze in here."

she felt like a baby as percy rinsed her hands off and wrapped the hurt one in gauze. she sat on his bunk as he carefully cleaned up the glass on the floor. after a few minutes, he sat down next to her. she just couldn't help it, tears started falling from her eyes.

he let her cry into him. he just ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head every now and then. he kept telling her that it was "alright" and that she was "okay" and that "he's got her." there was something about percy that made her feel so safe around him. maybe it was his soothing voice, or the way he smelled, or maybe it was his touch. whatever it was, it made hiding things from him draining. after half-an-hour, y/n's tears ran dry. she pulled back from percy's chest and looked up at him with red eyes.

"hey, i'm here, you're okay." he reassured, wiping her tears with his thumbs. "what's going on?"

he grabbed a water bottle and gave it to her. even he knew she was dehydrated after crying.

"i-i don't know." she sputtered. "i don't know. i've been in my own head. and i just keep feeling like i'm nothing but a screw up and a mess, and i'm so nervous for the next big quest. i-i can't. i feel like i'm just gonna lose you and i don't have enough time to figure it out. i just feel useless, like a failure whose just going to seal everyone's terrible fate."

"y/n." he paused. "you are the most capable, amazing, intelligent, kind, funny, beautiful, person i've ever met. you are more than enough. and you have time and if you can't get to things, so what? it's okay. and when the next big things happens, it happens."

she felt his firm hands around her arms, holding her tightly.

"and i'm not going anywhere." he reassured.

hearing him clear up all of the awful things her mind has been cramming into her head was cathartic.

"i'm sorry." she said, looking up at him. "i've been such a bitch to you when you were just trying to help-"

"don't worry about it. i knew you weren't doing well." he smiled. "it's alright now."

he bent down and kissed her. his arms wrapped around her upper-half as her arms wrapped around his neck. the kiss was slow and gentle. when they finally pulled away, y/n rested her head underneath his chin.

"i love you." she whispered.

"i love you more." he whispered back, kissing the top of her head.

[delphi-shield]

a lover's guide to defusing time bombs // leon s. kennedy

Leon x afab!Reader Smut wc: 5,661 mdni - 18+

i'm having technical difficulties help why is this fic such a problem child. bout to give up and send it to the dumpster. shout out to tumblr support for fixing this yay my stupid smut is in the tags now. loosely proofread and edited. merry christmas xoxo

summary: Leon doesn’t love crowds. He hates them, actually, but he’s braving the annual Christmas parade for you. Ever vigilant, he scans for threats, ensures the giant clydesdales aren’t secretly agents of chaos, narrows his eyes to be absolutely positive that Santa isn’t concealing a weapon. You have got to find a way to make him relax.

content: afab!reader, mindless fluff, leon’s pov, vague depiction of an anxiety attack, discussions of leon’s mental health, established relationship, secular celebration of christmas, chestnuts roasting on an open fire (literally), leon’s dissociating through a lot of this, fingering (reader receiving), piv (reader receiving), doggy, a singular spank (reader receiving), use of toys (reader receiving), creampie, switchy leon & reader. the smut starts about halfway through if that’s what you’re here for.

Life with Leon can be divided up neatly into ‘Can't’ and ‘Won’t’.

He had crawled home to you at five in the afternoon, fresh off an assignment in Manhattan. He can’t tell you the details, all wrapped up in red tape, and he won’t let you get acquainted with the new ghosts that will haunt the darkened corners of your apartment. You're dozing so soundly in the living room. Prettiest thing he’s ever come home to, curled up under a blanket, colorful lights of the Christmas tree warming your skin. His hands are cold and battered when they brush against your forehead, smirch your warm skin with the grime that never washes off his skin.

He’s torn between waking you and letting you rest. He needs the rest himself, and it would be so easy to pick up your sleeping form and lay you back down against his chest, to drift off into a nap in the glow of the Christmas tree.

But he won’t break a promise to you, not if he doesn’t have to. He promised to take you to see the Christmas parade - and for once, he’s actually back in time to make good on his word.

Leon checks his watch. Back in time, but not by much. The parade starts in an hour. He rouses you, a strong hand gentle on your shoulder. It’s almost meditative, watching the way you wake. The way you take your time, curling into yourself like a cat before you finally unfurl, the slow blink of your eyes struggling to focus. You’re here. You’re safe. You don’t jolt awake the way that he does. You don’t jerk at his touch. You’re safe from the monsters that stalk him. For once, he’s kept something safe.

Leon came back from Spain a little different, but he can’t- and won’t - tell you jack about shit, as usual. He’s not sure if he’s changed for the better or the worse. There’s moments where the light is back in his eye, where all his jagged edges seem to soften. It’s the first time he’s ever come back from a ‘business trip’, as he likes to call them, and been able to say he’d done something good. Something worthwhile, beyond the nebulous concept of his servitude - something tangible. A life saved, not a country served.

The light’s dim today, but it shines when your eyes lock onto him. You light up, every ounce of weariness fleeing your body at the sight of him. You rocket forward. Your arms are tight and warm around his neck, and he rocks backward at the force of your affection. A laugh passes his lips, pressed into the top of your head along with a kiss.

“I could get used to that greeting,” he says when you part. Not all the way, of course. Your hand rests on his wrist, desperate for the contact. Like you think he might float away if you don’t keep him grounded.

“You better not,” you warn him, the seriousness in your tone as convincing as it is menacing - not at all.

He urges you to get up and get ready. You’re going to miss the parade. Probably missed most of the craft fair already, but he’s privately glad that you hadn’t gone without him. An ache opens up in his chest to think of you going alone.

“We don't have to go,” you assure him. It must be the fifth time you’ve tried to give him an out. You’re hopping on one foot, trying to stuff your feet into your warm boots, but he still recognizes the guilt in your eyes. He’s felt it many times himself, and he’s tired of seeing that part of himself reflected in your eyes. He won't make you feel like you’re stealing time away from him ever again.

“I promised.” He adjusts your scarf for you once you’ve stopped hopping. There was nothing wrong with the way you had it done. It’s just another excuse to touch you. He needs those. He needs reasons, real or invented. Touch has never been easy for him the way it has been for you.

Ushering you into the car is easy. You don’t put up any real resistance, other than babbling about how you don’t mind driving, honest, because he must be so tired. What he feels goes so far past tired that it wraps back around into restlessness, but he won’t tell you that. It seems like the sort of thing that would make you worry more, not less. Besides - he wants to watch you from the corner of his eye while he drives. He wants to see your head sway gently to the Christmas carols on the radio. He wants you to point out overdecorated houses and coo over Christmas decorations.

Leon needed this. He missed it, the peaceful quiet between the two of you. It doesn’t last terribly long. When you see how awful the parking situation is downtown, you burst into complaints. He doesn’t mind those either, the ghost of a smile glued to his lips while he drives circles around every parking lot in a four block radius.

He has to parallel park - something that makes you so nervous that you grip his arm while he wedges into the parking spot. Sure, he turns a three-point turn into something closer to a 36-point turn, but the important part is, he didn’t hit anyone. Besides - he kinda likes it when you cling to him like that.

He likes it more than the way you’re watching him, that’s for sure. You look like you’re waiting for him to fall apart. In fact, he’s not sure you’re even trying to hide your worry this time, got your heart bleeding on your sleeve for everyone to see. You take his hand clumsily, your movements big and ungainly in your mittens, and guide him through downtown.

It gets worse when you actually arrive at the parade route. The whole damn city must be out tonight. Families with gaggles of children, some sat on their father’s shoulders, carolers struggling to be heard over the noise of the crowd. Your hand squeezes his. He fights down his irritation. He knows it’s irrational. He doesn’t want to take it out on you.

It’s just a lot.

Leon likes to walk around with his head held high, pretending that he has no long-lasting quirks from his career. He can handle it. That’s the kind of man he is. He doesn't think less of you for how little you can carry in return. His shoulders are broad, he reminds you. He can carry what you can’t - hell, he feels useless when you don’t let him.

You can see it in the way his eyes never stop roving, the way his fingers curl near his hip – he knows you can. You’re more perceptive than he gives you credit for. Might wear your heart out for everyone to see, but you’re observant as all hell. He keeps a hand glued to the curve of your waist, keeps his head on a swivel for all threats, real and imagined.

He’s just being cautious, he tells himself. There’s nothing wrong with being aware of your surroundings. Especially not in a big crowd like this. His trained mind whirls. It throws him off-kilter. He’s not on the clock, but he’s acting like it. Big celebrations like this are perfect targets for terrorists looking to make a statement.

There’s a rolodex in his head filled to the brim with the kinds of intel that would make you never want to step outside again. He can’t tell you that - not just for the sake of national security, but for the sake of your peace of mind.

You say something - something about a vendor, your hand pointing across the street. His head moves first, humming acknowledgement he doesn’t mean, his eyes following slow to see what you’re looking at. No clue. You’re looking at him expectantly, arm tucked in the crook of his, so he just nods, agrees aimlessly.

Leon’s all wrapped up in his head, standing shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the crowd, staring down at himself from above. Float after float goes by - horses, a flock of sheep decked out in festive trimmings, shepherded by a gaggle of men and boys dressed in anachronist robes - and he’s pretty sure he saw an actual, honest-to-god reindeer, but the static spreading from his mind to his limbs turns everything around him into a nauseating blur.

“Hey.” You nudge him with an elbow, tucking your scarf below your chin. “C’mon.”

Your words seem so muffled. He’s starting to wonder if that action hero lifestyle is already catching up to him. He’s got to get his damned ears checked. You curl your hand around his bicep and urge him away from the crowd.

He’s too slow to think to protest. You had wanted to see the parade. He can’t take this away from you, not when you had been so excited. The guilt claws at his heart. He tugs your hand to pull you back toward the crowd, but you dig your heels in and give him this stern look that all but forces him to yield. You drag him down a quieter street, where vendors are packing their things up, the crowds having fled to watch the parade. 

If he could know your thoughts, he’d know you wished to press your thumb gently against the well of his eye and swipe away the darkness that hangs there, press a kiss to his bruised skin and watch his blush paint over the hurt. You press a hot chocolate into his hands instead. The warmth spreads through his gloves.

For a long moment, Leon just holds the drink in his hands. He rolls the paper cup back and forth, back and forth, walks with you as you pace the street. You pause to speak with a woman standing over an open grill.

The scent pulls him back to earth. He lifts the cup of hot chocolate to his face and inhales deeply. Sweet and chocolatey, Leon knows it’s probably Swiss Miss bought in bulk for the sole purpose of being handed out to parade-goers. He takes a sip, lets the cheap, watered down hot chocolate warm him. The noise of the parade is far away now, not just in his mind but in reality. The bells and the carols, the clop of hooves on cobblestone, it stays muted, but it doesn’t threaten to overwhelm him anymore.

His hand squeezes yours. You don’t stop speaking with the woman, but your eyes cut towards him, and your smile bright - a beacon that says welcome back.

For the first time, he realizes how cold his hands are. He slips the hand not holding the hot chocolate into the pocket of your jacket. He knows you’ve got a handwarmer in there. Lo and behold, he’s right. Your pocket may as well be heated.

Another scent stands out to him. His eyes focus on the dying embers still glowing faintly in the belly of the grill. An earthy, nutty smell drifts up to him. You’ve got something in your hands, he realizes - round little balls, their dark brown shells split and cracked, light golden interior peeking through.

You wave, say goodbye to the vendor, and tug him down the street - in the vague direction of the car, he realizes. Another stab of guilt. You’d wanted to see this parade so badly. He knows why you’re leaving.

“Try it,” you chirp, cheeks darkened by the cold air. You tip your hand towards his, drop one of the little nuts you're carrying into his hand. You smile so brightly, like you don’t realize that he’s ruined this for you. “It should be cool enough now.”

“What is it?” He asks, rolling it in his palm.

“A roasted chestnut. S’really good!” He looks over at you, fighting the urge to laugh. You’re already chewing the damn thing. He watches you slip the shell off of another chestnut.

“What are you, five? Close your mouth when you eat.” He bumps your shoulder with his, no heat behind his words.

He slips the shell off the chestnut, the way he had watched you do moments before. He pops it into his mouth and makes a noise of surprise. He’d expected it to be hard and crunchy, but it’s soft - buttery, almost. Sweet, in the same way as a sweet potato. He holds his hand out for another, and you drop it into his palm, chuckling triumphantly to yourself.

The walk back to his car is near silent, trading chestnuts and jabs back and forth. The restlessness that had filled his limbs earlier has melted into a sleepy, dull-edged tiredness that wears at his bones. He opens your door for you, guides you inside with a hand at the small of your back.

He wants to apologize. It’s all Leon can think about while he’s trying to get out of this goddamn parking spot. It takes him long enough. He’s crafting a script in his head. He knows exactly what he has to say.

But when you’re finally back on the road, he’s speechless. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, laden with the sweetness of the chestnuts and oily against his teeth. He can feel his heartbeat in his fingertips again, the road melting away as he guides you home by muscle memory alone.

“Thanks for coming with me.”

God, you’re an angel, breaking the silence like that. He glances over at you, the pounding of his heart quieting in his ears at the sight of your smile, your eyes soft and your hair messed. Your hat lays in your lap, your mittens peeled off and tossed to god-knows-where for him to find later on.

Leon nods. He feels like kicking himself. How the hell did he ever pull you? 

After a too-long silence, he says, “No problem. Sorry. For, uh –”

For making us leave. For ruining this. For not having my shit together.

You’re too nice to think any of those things about him. He knows that. That doesn’t mean Leon doesn’t think it about himself.

“Don’t worry about it. I had fun. Besides, I kinda wanted to spend time with you, anyway. Just you.”

He looks to you at a stoplight, tries to gauge if there’s any irritation hidden under your expression. You settle your hand on his knee. You smile blithely out the window, your eyes catching his in the reflection, crinkling at the corners when you smile wider. His heart pounds again - not panic, but a warm, comfortable squeeze.

He can’t believe he’s this lucky.

“We could watch a Christmas movie,” he offers. A small balm for the hurt he feels he’s caused.

You hum. Indifferent. You turn your head back to him as the light turns green, your hand sliding up to his thigh and squeezing. It sends a thrill through his gut, his breath catching. He wasn’t away that long, but it felt like forever without your touch.

“I was kinda thinking we could just hang out,” you say, your voice deceptively innocent. “I missed you.”

The car behind him honks. He wrests his thoughts out of the gutter, forces himself to actually drive. Your hand stays on his thigh, drifts even higher, your little laugh flushing all the blood out of his head.

“That’s, uh – yeah. Fantastic.”

The drive home is a blur. He tries to make conversation, honest to God, he does, but you’re so damn distracting. You know it, too. He can see that sadistic little twinkle in your eye. He’s lucky you’ve got enough mercy in you not to tease him while he drives. You’ve already got him wrapped around your finger, you have to know that by now.

Leon practically jumps out of the car. He should be embarrassed by the way you have him hopping around like some horny virgin. You slip out of the car with much more grace and press yourself to his side. His arm wraps around your waist, finds a way to tug you even closer while he fumbles with his keys.

The door is barely open, and you’re on him. He doesn't even have time to strip his jacket off before you press yourself against him. You urge his back against the door, shutting it with a thud. Your hands roam all over him, shucking his jacket off and letting it pool on the floor. Your lips press to his, trading the taste of hot chocolate and chestnuts. You move to his neck. His gasps are barely restrained. His pulse races under your touch. His head rocks back, smacks against the door and he groans. You chuckle, take his hand and pull him further into the apartment.

The backs of your knees hit the couch and he takes the invitation to tip you over the edge, his body covering yours without a moment of hesitation. Your lips are back on his skin, tongue laving a hot path wherever you can reach. Greedy. He shudders against the hands that grip his sides. 

"Not too tired?" You ask between kisses. Your teeth nip at the thin skin of his neck and his breath damn near stops. He should tell you to quit. It's not professional. He's gonna show up to his next briefing covered in hickeys and then everyone will know how good Kennedy is getting it at home. He's not sure he minds. He thinks he wants everyone to know just how fucking good he's got it.

"No way," he says, his voice lighter than he meant. He wanted to sound gravely, masculine - instead he sounds like he's about to cum his pants. Goddamn, the things you do to him.

"How do you want it?"

Oh, so it's up to him now? He wishes you'd take the choice from him. You press your hips up against him and, fuck, he wishes you'd take everything from him.

You pull back, your lips leaving his skin, and the chill settles over him again, the distance between you too much for him to handle. His hands grip your hips, slide under you and tug you into him so you can feel the way his cock fills out his jeans. It's hot and tight and goddammit, he wants to be in you - in a better kind of hot and tight rather than this denim prison that's fucking killing him.

You press your hand to his shoulder, force the distance. You level him with a look, like a school teacher discipling a naughty student. (Hot. Gonna have to keep that one in mind, if he ever works the nerve up to ask you to try some roleplay. He’ll bet you could really wreak havoc with a ruler, rap it across his knuckles -- better yet, his ass, let the sting spike over his skin. Make him indignant or obedient - he won't know what sort of mood he's in until he's there.)

You're waiting for an answer. That much is clear. No more love bites until he speaks up. You're a dead weight in his arms and he knows how to make you come to life again.

He sits back on his thighs, hands turning you. "Face in the cushions."

"You got the energy for that?"

You don't even mean to be a brat, he’s sure. It's not an honest challenge. You just sound genuinely surprised. He nods. He's got all the energy for the world if it means being with you.

That gets you moving at least. You squirm under him, limbs awkward and trapped between his thighs. He peels you out of your jeans and rolls his eyes when he sees you've got a second pair of pants underneath.

"It was cold out!" You protest, raising your hips to help him get the layers off.

"It's not that cold out. You got long johns on under these, too?"

"Keep this up and you won't find out."

That shuts him up.

His stomach lurches, arousal hot and tight from the way you're swinging your hips at him. He fumbles with his belt, unwraps himself and tosses the packaging off to the side, where it lands under the tree with the rest of the presents. His fingers tease along your slit, nudging the wet patch you've left along your panties. He wants to bury his nose in you, surround himself with your scent and your taste, shake his head and burrow as deep as he can get.

But when his fingers curl under the elastic of your waistband, you click your tongue. He stills, frozen by your directive.

"Can you ask nicely?"

He wants to scoff. Impatience and irritation are bubbling in his gut, but your demand makes his cock twitch and he could have sworn he felt his fucking balls draw up.

"Please." He drones, fingers tugging at your panties.

"You can do better than that."

"I could just leave you here."

He's not going to do that. You both know that’s an empty threat. Leon grips the fullness of your ass, squeezes it under his palm. His hand draws back quick, a sharp smack filling the room. He hears you muffle your squeal into the cushions. He sees your fingers clench, sees you drag the nearest pillow closer, hugging it to your chest. So easy.

"Ask." That's not a request. It's a demand. You're doing your best to sound tough, your face buried in the pillow, ass still wagging at him like a bitch in heat. He hums, weighs his options.

"Can I fuck your pussy?" He presses his chest to your back, lets you feel the weight of him. You've told him so many times how you like that- you like the feeling of him surrounding you. You like being trapped under his weight, the way he pins you down. His cock strains against your clothed pussy. He wraps an arm around your waist, skims his hand up your chest, in the valley between your tits. His thumb strokes over a peaked nipple, plucks it to a point, and pinches. "Please. I'll make you cum first."

If the way your back arches is any indication, that may just have been the selling point.

"Gonna cum inside?"

"We'll see."

That must be your final straw. He's pushed you too far. You turn your head, cheek cushioned cutely against the couch.

"You cum inside or not at all." Your voice is firm, dark. He wishes he hadn't been so adamant on pressing against you, because he knows you felt the way his cock kicked. He sees your lips twist into a smirk.

Leon's in no mood to wipe it off your face. His baby wanted him to stuff that pretty pussy, who was he to argue? Give him five minutes to recharge, he'll paint your back, too. Maybe your chest.

His lips press to the back of your shoulder. The fingers pinching your nipple relent. He strokes your breasts reverently instead.

"Okay," he agrees, breathless. "Inside."

Your eyes linger on him, watching to see how serious he is. He does his best to look honest. His fingers smooth over his harsh touches, the devotion pouring from his fingertips. You grab his wrist, bring his hand to your mouth and wet his fingers for him, drink it down.

He leans back just enough to squirm his hand underneath the soaked fabric of your panties, slick fingers parting your folds again and again, pressing deeper each pass.

The way you sigh makes his gut tighten and squirm. He dips his fingers in you, the first sliding in so smooth that he adds the second after the first pump. His mouth lathers the nape of your neck with kisses, his breath hot and terse against your skin. Try as you might to seem unaffected, he sees the way that your skin pricks. 

Leon sets a steady pace, works you up to three fingers. Gotta get you ready for him – though the way you moan and rock, you clearly needed this more than you let on.

"Vibrator's in the drawer." He knows a command when he hears one. Doesn't have to be told twice. His superiors always liked that about him, and you appreciate it too. He commits the way your voice quivers to memory, banks that one for his nights away. He leans back, opening the drawer of the side table. He doesn't even question it until it's on and humming in his hand.

"The side table, huh..?"

Leon’s voice wobbles with laughter. That's not where this little guy usually lived. His fingers resume their pace, pumping into you steadily. He presses the head of the vibrator just above your clit, watches the way that you squirm. He can't take much more of this, not when he sees your pretty, kiss swollen lips part and hears you moan like that.

“Got lonely without you,” you admit. Your voice drives him insane, heat pulsing through him with every pump of his heart. Got that airy, whiny quality to it, your thighs quivering like you aren't sure whether to squirm away or chase after all the sensation.

He crooks his fingers inside you, feels you squeeze him and pulse. His cock aches. You bury your face into the pillows to smother the way you moan his name. He needs another hand. He needs fist his hand in your hair and drag you up so he can hear you cry his name over and over.

Not now. Later. Focus, Leon. Your pussy's got him high, lost in the pull of your body. He keeps the vibrator firm to your body, doesn't let you run from the way he’s making you feel. Your back bows, chest pressing to the couch, and he chases you down, lips smattering you neck with sloppy kisses, nipping at your skin, encouraging you with sighed praises – “There you go, baby, just like that, let go, I got you, just let go, cum for me –” and the pride he feels when you shake under him, squeeze his fingers to hard he’s surprised he still has circulation, has him panting.

Goddamn. You’re dripping down his arm, pussy squelching so obscenely around his fingers. He lifts the vibrator away from your clit to give you a break, turns it down just enough to keep you wound up. Doesn’t want it to hurt - not this time.

"I have to be inside you," he groans. You whine, legs spreading wider. Your knee slips off the couch, and rather than put it back up, you brace your foot against the floor to stay spread for him.

"Yeah," you breathe out. Poor baby. That's all you can manage, isn't it?

He shoves his boxers down mid-thigh, fingers drawing out of you. He sits back and lifts his hand to his face, makes a show of licking your mess from his wrist and fingers. That little whine you let out drives him fucking crazy. His fingers curl, sticky with remnants of your juices and his spit, against your hip, leave a tacky wet splotch against your skin. He draws the head of his cock through the wetness of your pussy, slow and torturous. The glide is effortless. He hasn’t prayed in years, but thank god for your cunt.

His hips nudge, head teasing your messy hole, and – Jesus Christ – he just meant to tease you, but your pussy pulls him in, warm and wet around the tip of his cock.

He pulls out, his body and his brain screaming at him – traitor – for pulling away from you. What the fuck was he supposed to do? Blow his load then and there? Hell no. You’d never let him live it down.

You whine again, needy and insistent. The noise is  muffled and frustrated in the press of the pillow. He needs more hands. Wants to pull your hair, force your head up from that pillow so he can hear you properly - but he's got to keep hold of your hips. He presses the vibrator back to your clit, and it’s got you squirming away from him. Leon was trying to buy himself some time to calm down, but this isn’t helping. He’s got to be inside of you right now, or he’s going to explode - and he promised he’d do that inside of you.

He positions himself at your entrance again, almost frantic. The first rock of his hips is clumsy, has him sliding up through the cleft of your ass. He tries again, slides through your folds again, the weeping head of his cock nudging at your clit. The vibrations ripple through his cock, and the whimper he lets out is humiliating. He swears under his breath. He doesn't have the control to pretend that was on purpose. 

His hand drags from your hip to guide himself into you in a series of quick, jerky thrusts. Leon sighs, stairstepping, relief flooding his veins, when your walls finally take him. His pace evens out into something slow and steady. It's a struggle to remember to keep the vibrator where you like it, the way his brain is so fogged with the way you squeeze him. He leans back, hand on the globe of your ass, spreading you apart to watch the way you take him. So wet and messy, sloppy noises driving him crazy. This is the kind of shit that keeps him up at night, that has him fucking his fist and cumming on his stomach in some remote corner of the world, painfully far from you.

He tosses the vibrator aside, the way it skips and jitters against the floor lost to him in the chorus of your moans and the slap of his hips against your ass. Leon feels what little hold he has over himself slipping from his grasp. He can't control the way that his hips rut against you, the push of his cock against the velvet walls of your cunt. He could lose himself in you, spend all his days buried to the hilt in you, balls slapping, teeth wearing at your shoulder, burning memories of this moment into your skin.

His breath comes quick and hard, his forehead buried in the crook of your neck, his moans a litany of your name. He wants you, needs you, can't stop the way his pace has quickened to a frantic beat. His teeth find your earlobe, tugging insistently just to hear your moans sharpen into a keen.

You tighten and pulse around him, a gush of fluid slicking his cock, and he's not certain that he's still on this earth. Your voice breaks on his name and his vision blurs. His fingers find your clit in the haze of pleasure that clouds his mind. It’s a clumsy replacement for the vibrator, but they're his, warm, rough pads that press against you, send your head spinnin. Leon doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath. He wants you panting, breathless, boneless, wants you limp in the cushions below him while he pounds into you gooey cunt.

It doesn't take him long. You're whimpering and soft below him, trying fruitlessly to match his thrusts, your fingers clenching and unclenching against the pillow. He's lost in the haze of your body, and his orgasm almost takes him by surprise. He slows to a grind, rolling his hips deep into you again and again, the head of his cock pressing deep, his load spurting against your walls. His moan is broken, high-pitched - a whimper that will burn into your memory, your name sweet on his tongue.

Leon collapses against your back, his chest heaving. He tries to keep his weight off of you, but his limbs are too heavy. His hands slip down your sides, grasp your hips, and turn you, press your back to the couch.

"Good boy," you murmur. He huffs a laugh, kisses that teasing smile on your lips. You pat his shoulder limply.

Good, he thinks, still catching his breath. Got you all fucked out.

His hands slip back up your sides, craddling your ribs. His thumbs trace gentle arches across the curve of your ribs, his head nestled in the valley between your breasts. Your hand returns to his hair, much softer, petting him gently.

It feels like home. He's made it back. He won't leave, not for a while. He's not sure that he can. His eyes slip shut, the warm glow of the Christmas tree lights and the warm pull of your body lulling him into security. Dully, he remembers grab the vibrator from the floor and click it off. The silence that floods the apartment blankets over the both of you.

He doesn’t want to break the serenity of this moment. Your hair pet his hair, nearly lull him to sleep then and there. All his grand plans of round two, of making a mess of you, are slipping through his fingers in the warm glow of your apartment.

“You wanna open your presents now?” You ask him, voice heavy. Another swell of pride. It sounds like he’s worn you out. Maybe he could go for another round.

“It’s not Christmas yet.”

“I know,” you whine, “but I’m too excited.”

“I haven’t even wrapped yours yet.”

“Don’t care. Just open yours.”

He feels you squirm under him, trying to shuffle off of the couch. No doubt you want to fetch his gifts, force him to open them. Leon presses his full weight down onto you, pinning you under him.

“Nope.”

Your protests fall on deaf ears. He’s won’t give in, not this time. He already messed up the parade, he’s not messing up the gifts. He wiggles his fingers against your ribs, trying to silence your bargaining by making you squirm.

Your laugh fills the apartment. Leon smiles against your skin. That’s the sound that makes this place home.

[gentil-minou]

student council au where wei wuxian ran "as a joke" but won president with lan wangji as his vice president and their shenanigans as wwx uses a sizeable amount of their budget for carnivals and student events and lwj just...lets him

his uncle, the principal, asks him what on earth are you doing and lwj just takes out a research paper that shows the benefits of fun and relaxing activities on student mental health while wwx is shooting a t-shirt canon at the crowd behind them

there's a sofa in the student lounge that wwx uses to take naps and everytime he does his shirt rides up revealing a sliver of skin and lwj has one hand in a tight horny grip as he calculates how much of their budget they can devote to a bunny petting zoo even though the insurance will be a nightmare but wwx really wants one so he will get one.

(at the petting zoo, wwx tells him the bunny petting zoo was a birthday gift for him)

(lwj kisses his big stupid perfect little face)

[backmuscles21]

I Was Scared

Tonowari x Reader x Ronal

Summary: If you know me you know we have to have our obligatory eating disorder fic. If you know me you know I need to work on my crippling ED by writing about it.

Warnings - eating disorders, mental health issues, too much fluff.

You had a problem, you knew that, but you couldn’t find it in you to dig deep to fix it. You kept it pushed pretty deep down; you didn’t want others to know how bad it was. You also just didn’t want to hear it, you didn’t want other's pity or their help, you were suffering but you were doing it to yourself. You didn’t think it was that bad yet, you knew you couldn’t keep losing weight but you almost didn’t want it to stop.

Of course, you work with scientists, they were going to take notice, they knew the human body quite well. They were all very smart and for a while, you could blame it on being busy or being linked in for so long and just not noticing. But you knew, you weren’t stupid, you were purposefully avoiding it, even when you had food pushed in front of you, you didn’t want it. The thought of having to put food into your mouth and chew it and swallow it was too overwhelming. It felt so gross and so unappetizing, you didn’t want to have to eat, you didn’t want to risk gaining weight but you were scared of how much you were losing.

You noticed how skinny you’d become but food was still unappetizing, you had no appetite and still food made you nauseous. You did what you always did, you avoided it, and you evaded questions and physicals from staff members. You didn’t care, anything was better than eating, even your health declining. You just hoped it would get better, currently, you were still okay, malnourished and dehydrated but okay, you still did all your daily tasks. It was just tricking you into believing that you were okay, you knew deep down you weren’t and that you had to eat, but it’s not that simple, you were scared.

You went with Jake and his family to the Metkayina clan for refuge, it was there you met your mates. Ronal and Tonowari brought you into their relationship almost right away, they felt an instant connection. Of course, now that you were here, you had to change your schedule a little, you knew your brain function was on the decline. You napped every day now since your body was constantly tired and commonly you would have dizzy spells or get frequent headaches.

One thing that did help was you saw Ronal constantly, she enjoyed seeing you but she didn’t like that it was because you were in pain. A few times since you’ve been here, you passed out, you just suddenly delinked from your body. It worried Jake and his family a lot, Norm had told them about your condition, none of them really knew it was an eating disorder or how bad it was, but they knew you weren’t eating.

Who didn’t know was your mates, but you could tell Ronal was catching on because even in your Na’vi form, you still struggled to eat. They noticed how you’d barely eat and how you struggled to take bites of things.

This was all a mental game, it didn’t matter what body you were in, you would still suffer from this. Even your Na’vi body was skinner than the others which is saying something. You found being here was nice because your muscles had been eaten away at so you weren’t as strong as the others in the rainforest. It was hard sometimes to keep up with people swimming since you always got tired, most of the time around mid-day, you take a nap. You’d delink and let your body rest, you knew you needed it and commonly when you woke up, Ronal would be sitting next to you.

She always cared so much for you, it’s like she could see that you were struggling, and she knew you needed help. She was always there, running her hand through your hair, she was always so motherly with you. You knew she was worried, and so was Tonowari, they said as much, they knew your health was on the decline. Then one day, your body didn’t wake up, they knew that you linked in so not waking up didn’t mean too much. But they worried about your real body hours away, they wanted to know what was happening and if you were okay.

That’s when Jake got a call from Norm, you weren’t waking up either, you were alive and breathing but something was wrong. Apparently, your heart rate was very low and all your blood tests were coming back with so many red flags. They were doing more tests, but you’d be out for a while, but you were okay for now. It was now understood how bad things were, how bad you made things, how bad your fear made you.

Jake just had to go tell Tonowari and Ronal.

You had just mated with them a few days ago, how could he break it to them that you could die soon? He walked over to their mauri and they were in there, Ronal was getting some medicines ready for you.

“Jake, how is she?” Tonowari asked.

“I got a message. Apparently, she didn’t wake up this morning either. They are running tests on her now, she’s stable for now but her heart rate is low. Norm told me that her levels are all low. He said that she was not eating or drinking water. They are trying to help her.”

“We have to go see her,” Ronal spoke up.

“We can’t just leave,” Tonowari exclaimed.

“It’s our mate, she needs us. We have to go see her.”

“We can’t leave our people alone.”

“Let Jake look after them. If she doesn’t make it, we have to be there for that.”

Tonowari nodded as he held Ronal in his arms, “then we will go.”

“I will take good care of your people,” Jake said as Ronal and Tonowari packed some things and got set to leave.

They took some time to get there and when they did, they started looking around for you or someone that could take them to you. They were terrified, they just wanted to see you they wanted to ensure that you were okay. They were escorted to the lab where you were, a doctor was checking you over and they saw your pale body lying there. They opened the door and the door turned around to look at them, Norm was with Tonowari and Ronal. He told the doctor that these were your mates and to allow them to stay.

They were both so worried, they asked the doctor what was wrong with you, only for them to get a long list. They were scared, they wanted you to be okay, and they didn’t want you to be hurt. The doctor said that you were malnourished and dehydrated, that your heartbeat was irregular and you had passed out from it being so slow. They were concerned, they needed you, they wanted you back, they didn’t want to lose you.

You had been out for a few days now, your mates sat there waiting for you, they couldn’t lose you. When you did finally open your eyes slightly, they jumped up to be by your side, the smile that spread on their faces was the first thing you saw. You smiled as you saw them, you had no clue about passing out or how long it’s been since then. All you knew was that your mates were here in front of you, and then it occurred to you, that you were in the med bay and you were in your human body. Then it clued in, what happened?

The doctor came in once you were awake, he took your pulse and did a few other little checks. You felt a fear creeping up your back, the fear of what possibly could’ve put you in here. Then you were worried about how many people knew and what really happened, did you pass out or did you get brought in here while you slept? You didn’t know and you were too scared to know, you didn’t want your mates to worry and above everything else, you didn’t want to be forced into eating.

“Do you know why you’re here?” The doctor asked.

You shook your head; you knew but you’d play dumb.

“You passed out. Malnutrition and dehydration. I know you’ve been struggling with this for a while but we need to get you better, I’ve heard even your Na’vi body is getting bad as well.”

You couldn’t look at anyone, you felt the tears prick in your eyes, it felt slightly humiliating. You didn’t want to have to admit to your lovers that you did this to yourself, that you let your fear take over.

“Yawne, we want to make sure you’re okay. We don’t care about how it happened, just that you can get better,” Tonowari said as he took your tiny hand into his massive ones.

You sniffed and looked up at him, you moved a little to attempt to hug him. His large body blanketed yours as your arms tried to wrap around his body.

“I want to be better. I don’t want to be like this but it’s too much.”

“We will be here for you,” Ronal said.

“It’s not like that. I’m terrified of eating. It doesn’t get better. I’m too scared of everything that comes with it. I hate eating, I hate having to feel nauseous so badly that it’s easier to avoid it. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to lose more weight, but I can’t eat.”

“Yawne, we know. The doctor told us everything. We want to help you even if it’s just baby steps.”

“I don’t know if I can even bring myself to eat.”

“As long as you do a little more than you were, we can build. It doesn’t have to be everything right away.”

“I struggled to eat what I did. I don’t know how I could do more.”

“We can work on it. Both this body and your other one needs to feed and drink. We will work on getting you better.”

A few days later you were released from the med bay and Tonowari and Ronal went back home, you had to stay out of your avatar for a while or at least until you started major improvement. You had to be better hydrated and eat a little more on a day-to-day basis and when you did go back into your avatar you had an eating schedule put in place. You were excited to be able to get into your avatar again, you missed being with the Na’vi, and you missed your other family. You wanted to be with your mates again, you wanted to see them and be near them.

When it was your first time linking back in, you knew what it was going to feel like to be in a malnourished body. It was going to suck and you knew that, you had to be prepared and you were probably going to be made to eat.

When you woke up, you weren’t where you normally slept, you were in your mates’ mauri. You knew instantly that was where you were, you sat up slowly and that’s when you saw Ronal mixing up a paste. She immediately ran over to your side to cradle you, she looked so happy to see you up, just to see you open your eyes. She brought some food over to you as she helped you sit up; she placed it in front of you and sat next to you and held you.

“You don’t have to eat all of it or eat it quickly, but just eat some of it, please.”

You looked up at her with doe eyes and slowly looked at the food, you slowly picked it up and ate it. Alien food was too much for your head to wrap around, the textures were weird and the tastes were different too. But you didn’t want to disappoint her or Tonowari anymore, you had to do this, you had gotten better in your human form but this was different.

Ronal had a smile on her face as she watched you eat, Tonowari entered the mauri and his smile was just as wide. He was happy that you were here, happy that you were awake, happy that you were eating. Tonowari picked you up and cradled you and hugged you, he swung you around, he was happy to have his mates back again. They were happy that you were okay and that you were doing better, they were happy that you were here and safe.

“I’m sorry to have scared both of you. I didn’t mean to. I just got so out of control. I just couldn’t bring myself to eat. I was scared to tell you; I was scared of what you’d think or say. I don’t want to disappoint you two.”

“You haven’t disappointed us; we were just scared. We want you to be safe. We want to be with you till the end of times,” Tonowari said sitting down with you in his lap in front of Ronal.

“We have lived without you for the past couple of weeks and it has been hell. We miss you. We don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t have to be without me again, I promise. I want to do better; I want to be better. I have to adhere to an eating schedule now for both my human body and this one.”

“We will be here to help you out. We will always be here for you,” Ronal said as she pulled you into her lap and placed a kiss on your lips.

[dedkake]

birthday bash 2023 works | the ao3 collection

we had a blast this year. see all the works below the cut <3

fic

Accepting a Complement by WonkyElk | 1k, g, mcshep He wasn’t sure exactly when he and Sheppard had become ‘those two’ or ‘you two’ or ‘that pair’ to so many people. But, now that the phrase had jumped up and bit him, so to speak, he was very aware that he had heard it too many times to count. exposed by dedkake | 1k, m, mcshep Two moments in time: then and now Or, No matter the fact that his subconscious has been keeping the score for him, it’s clear as day what it all adds up to. Missing by Goddess47 | <1k, t, mcshep "Stupid gate!" Rodney whined. "Come on! You should work!" He banged a fist on the inside of the DHD. Transporters: or It’s All Fun and Games Until Someone Sets Your DNA to “Shuffle’ by WonkyElk | 2k, t, mcshep Elizabeth had been a little dazzled by the transporter technology at the start - it was difficult not to be - but there was so much to do, and to think about, that they had quickly been downgraded in her consciousness to little more than remarkably efficient elevators. Constantly tripping over her own child-like wonder would hardly have been conducive to a strong and effective leadership. Nowadays, the only time that they really registered as anything out of the ordinary was when they went wrong. When the Moon Hits Your Eye by portlandwithyou | <1k, g, mcshep Sheppard and McKay are stranded on a distant beach. Exploring by Goddess47 | <1k, t, mcshep Pegasus was more black and white than gray, John quickly learned. You’ve been the North Star (where the light’s from) by puddlejumperpilot | 2k, t, rodney / john /radek Rodney never thought he'd be dating two people at the same time. aka Rodney muses over his partners and how exactly they ended up there. Further Adventures in Maple Syrup by WonkyElk | 2k, t, mcshep John woke to a high bright sun battering its rays insistently through the window, the ungentle pouncing of cats, and the clatter of a frantic vampire. Of snakes and safe harbours by Mas_Pebbles_Sharp | <1k, m, multi Elizabeth scratches a couple of itches. short notice by dedkake | <1k, t, ronon / teyla / rodney / john Two week suspension from active duty. Mandatory leave for mental health; off base. Follow-up required. or, instead of splitting up during Brain Storm, the team take a trip to the mainland together. a two nap kind of day by dedkake | <1k, g, mcshep The blankets shift violently, parting to reveal John’s impressive bedhead, rumpled uniform, and colossal scowl. “I’m tired.” or, John's found a new place to hide out. Helping Hands by halestrom | 2k, g, gen Post-Trio, Rodney needs some help even if asking for help is the last thing he wants to do. Thankfully, he doesn't need to ask at all. Two Truths and One Lie by melagan | 2k, g, mcshep During an off-world ceremony, AR-1 is asked to reveal one lie each. Backup Plans by LogicGunn | 4k, g, gen For TwoTales, who had thoughts about a Laura Cadman and Rodney McKay High School Tap Dancing Competition AU.

Opposite to Blue by WonkyElk | 1k, g, mcshep The first time that John had met Rodney McKay he had been brightly, regrettably, orange. Searching for Sleep by Tazmy | <1k, g, gen Rodney’s on day 14 of little sleep. Ronon has a plan. Can be read as either Rodney & Ronon or as Rodney/Ronon. Your choice. 200 words for the SGA server birthday bash You’re the reason I don’t want the world to end by puddlejumperpilot | 7k, t, mcshep Two missing scenes from the second episode of each season. aka McShep over the years. Stop Talking! by Tazmy | 26k, t, multi Rodney knew better than to mess with the Ancient counseling device, but talking to a hologram version of Heightmeyer helped him feel better. Now, drugged by the device, Rodney is compelled to share his innermost secrets to those nearby, and his thoughts are much darker than anyone expected. Response to birthday bash prompt. There are two ways this can go: (1) Rodney must both share his feelings for John and admit the truth about his darkest thoughts or (2) The device will destroy him. Operation Retrieve John’s Heart by Tazmy | <1k, g, mcshep John's always been lonely. Two chapter story, each chapter a double drabble for the SGA fanart server birthday bash! Keeping Secrets by Goddess47 | <1k, t, mcshep It wasn't the sort of talent that one showed off, Chuck had learned as a small child. It was something personal, secret. Doctor’s Orders by Goddess47 | <1k, t, mcshep "You needed to abstain from coffee!" Carson said firmly. "Dinna you understand?" There was Only One… Wait— Two Beds? by pinkoptics | 2k, g, mcshep A bit of silly fun at this trope’s expense. Dear prompter, I hope you like it! The one where Rodney freaks out that there are two beds instead of one.

The Second Name by scifi_dancer | <1k, g, mcshep How the hell had Rodney gotten the printout? Chuck’s Intergalactic Delivery Service and Confessional, A 5+1 Fic by MalihiniMoon and Tazmy | 4k, t, mcshep A 5+1 fic. When the intergalactic bridge connected, allowing quick travel through the Stargate, it only made sense they’d use it to order pizza. It all snowballed from there. You Kissed Me by mific | <1k, g, mcshep Like Phantoms, but with kissing. light switch by dedkake | <1k, g, gen "Shoot me."

other media

Cover Art for “Ink and Wings” [Podfic and Fic] by cassiope25 | mcshep Cover Art for Itstartedwithalex's podfic and an illustration for "Ink and Wings" by spurious. Author's summary: It’s simply not possible. This is what Rodney tells himself for two and a half days after he sees what he thinks is a butterfly tattoo on Major John Sheppard’s thigh. [Podfic] Disposable by Itstartedwithalex | mcshep "Never thought I'd see any of you again." Podfic of "Disposable" by spurious Cover Art for “Disposable” [Podfic and Fic] by cassiope25 | mcshep Cover art for Itstartedwithalex's podfic and an illustration for "Disposable" by spurious. Author's summary: "Never thought I'd see any of you again." Spaghetti for Two by scifi_dancer | fanart, mcshep Spaghetti for two (mcshep) [Podfic] it could’ve started like this, season 2 by Itstartedwithalex | mcshep A McShep get-together per episode. Each fic is written as a missing scene and completely independent of the others. Podfic of season 2 of dedkake's "it could've started like this" Cover Art for “it could have started like this, season 2” [Podfic and Fic] by cassiope25 | mcshep Cover Art for Itstartedwithalex's podfic series and an illustration for the fic "it could have started like this, season 2" by dedkake Author's summary: A McShep get-together per episode. Each fic is written as a missing scene and completely independent of the others. Season 2 [Podfic] Divorce and Soggy Pizza by Itstartedwithalex | mcshep There was something very vulnerable about John standing barefoot in his kitchen with his hair more ruffled than usual, and his thin pyjamas hanging loosely off him. Rondey found that he wanted to push back at the image. Press John back into his role as the unassailable lieutenant colonel and all around ‘cool guy’. “Any other words of wisdom from my heartbreak guru?” he asked John, letting a little of the sneer through in his voice. OR: In the wake of his divorce, Rodney seeks out Sheppard. Podfic of "Divorce and Soggy Pizza" by missmariie Cover Art for “Divorce and Soggy Pizza” [Podfic and Fic] by cassiope25 | mcshep Cover Art for Itstartedwithalex's podfic and an illustration for the fic "Divorce and Soggy Pizza" by missmariie. Author's summary: There was something very vulnerable about John standing barefoot in his kitchen with his hair more ruffled than usual, and his thin pyjamas hanging loosely off him. Rondey found that he wanted to push back at the image. Press John back into his role as the unassailable lieutenant colonel and all around ‘cool guy’. “Any other words of wisdom from my heartbreak guru?” he asked John, letting a little of the sneer through in his voice. OR: In the wake of his divorce, Rodney seeks out Sheppard. [podfic] Operation Retrieve John’s Heart by Tazmy | mcshep This is a podfic and cover art of my story Operation Retrieve John's Heart. John's always been lonely. A story told in two chapters, each chapter a double drabble for the SGA birthday bash Let me go by mific | gen, fanart “Rodney,” Sheppard said quietly. “Let me go.” “Shut the fuck up.” “Rodney, we’re both going to fall,” Sheppard said urgently. “If you keep wriggling like a stupid fish on a line, we will.” “Rodney, let me go.” He craned his head and smiled. “It’s okay.” Two Podfics: Do Not Open and Empty Stars by Tazmy | mcshep Two podfics of two episode tags, each focusing on John's darker side. Do Not Open - Tag for Miller's Crossing. John reflects on his feelings for Rodney and why he could not let Rodney sacrifice himself. Answers such questions as why did McKay need to use someone else's key card. Empty Stars - Tag for The Eye. John reflects on his past actions while seeing how torture affects McKay. Cover Art for Two Podfics: “Do Not Open” and “Empty Stars” [Podfics and Fics] by cassiope25 | mcshep Cover Art for two of Tazmy's podfics and an illustration for her stories "Do Not Open" and "Empty Stars". Author's summary Two podfics of two episode tags, each focusing on John's darker side.

[banamine-bananime]

preface: i was writing a list of my headcanons for funsies and got completely derailed with angsty grimmons shit that needs to be scooped out of that post because it’s stupid long. so here

grif worked in honolulu a couple years after hs graduation until kai was old enough (17) he felt he could leave. did a year at university before realizing he’s smart enough to be admitted to cornell but not to get the scholarship he realistically needs to not be in crushing debt on graduation, and also there’s not nearly enough regimentation to college life to prevent him from rotting in bed paralyzed by “oh my god i don’t have Responsibilities That Need To Be Done Right Now for the first time in forever and idk what to do now” and executive dysfunction. went through basic and stationed on the doomed outpost. That Whole Thing (a polite way of saying “sneaking off for a nap on duty, sleeping through a massacre, and waking up to find literally everyone else dead”) was the nail in the coffin that pretty much shot his last shred of motivation and hope to shit, and based on his behaviour and psych eval afterwards (best summarized as “learned helplessness that everything is shit always and he’s useless and never gonna be able to help anyone so 👍 fuck everything fuck everyone just try to eke some hedonistic joy out of life before you die”) he was reassigned to the sim soldiers.

meanwhile simmons tried to do university several times and had to drop out for mental health reasons (a very polite way of putting “rapid spiral into absolute disaster every time”. it leaves room for giving him the benefit of the doubt that this was a proactive “ah i should take care of myself and this is not working for me :) #selfcare #therapy” decision. this is not benefit of the doubt that anyone who knows him would extend.).

I go back and forth on whether to roll with the “that one throwaway line with a suspiciously specific hypothetical of being in a unit that was stranded and had to eat their dog to survive” thing or just say he was assigned straight to sim troopers. on the one hand, i really love grif and simmons having a parallel immensely traumatic first assignment that made them both Worse in kinda similar kinda opposite ways in line with the ways they were each already fucked up

(grif “life is inherently a garbage fire. i am useless. all i can do is look out for myself and save my own hide by absolute never trusting any authority, refusing to get attached to the other fuckers around here (they’d hate me anyways so just let them hate me), and obsessively hoarding any access to food and shelter and comfort because Maslow said I can’t work on health or belonging or esteem until i do :/ yeah i know, sorry, i’ve got a doctor’s note from him right here.” vs simmons “my life is a garbage fire probably because everyone around me is an idiot fucking something up but also because i’m not trying hard enough. i’m sure if i keep Performing The Maladaptive Behaviours even harder they will work and i THEN will feel respected and powerful and loved. you see you just have to keep repressing every feeling so you can suck up to anyone you detect a whiff of Authority Figure on no matter how little you actually respect them, and follow EVERY RULE and work and work and work. and you had better abandon any compunctions about things like eating a dog you loved or backstabbing a friend for brownie points from the CO who hates him or Literally Murdering your CO for a promotion. and if you ever stop desperately trying, fighting dirty looking out just for yourself, and instead just sit still for a moment and enjoy sincere zero-ulterior-motives connections with people, you will probably definitely immediately die of starvation or exposure (it is a metaphor you see. of exposure to the elements while stranded without resources. for the agonizing exposure of allowing yourself to be known.)”)

on the other hand i’m like whoa now. this boy’s got enough problems we really don’t need to be giving him any more or we’re really never gonna pry him free of the woobiefication fics.

[briamichellewrites]

101

Six weeks. Bria was back on birth control and her medications for the first time in ten months. Her post-pregnancy hormones made her emotional. She cried when Ami cried because she felt overwhelmed. Her thoughts made her think she was a bad mother. Jason took her to her therapist. He didn’t know what to do. Was this part of her BPD or postpartum depression? Her therapist listened to her describing what she was experiencing. Did she feel like hurting her baby?

No, she couldn’t do that. Why did she feel like she was a bad mother? Because no matter what she did, Ami cried. She cried all the time. That was how babies communicated what they needed. It didn’t mean she was a bad mother. She wiped her tears. When they found out she was pregnant, Jason’s brother wanted to adopt her but she fought hard to keep her.

Did she regret it? No, she just didn’t know it would be so hard. When she held her for the first time, she felt like she finally understood what love was. She was crying her head off. Then they came home and that’s when everything started to settle in. She was anxious about her getting sick. They couldn’t leave the apartment unless it was for doctor appointments. She limited visitors and she had to wash her hands after doing anything.

What would happen if she touched her nose and then her baby? She would get anxious and have to wash her hands. Her psychiatrist wanted to monitor her for possible Obsessive Compulsive Disorder because she was displaying symptoms. It could also be a postpartum anxiety disorder. Did she make Jason wash his hands? Yes, she did. He did it to help alleviate her anxiety.

They hoped that her medications would help balance the chemicals in her brain again. Ten months was a long time to go without them. Was she back on her birth control? Yes. She had the implant, so she didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant again for four years. Good. She didn’t want to get pregnant again. At least not until she was mentally stable. How did she become pregnant? Her birth control expired and she wasn’t being careful.

“I apologized because I felt so stupid and guilty. He had to assure me that he wasn’t angry. I thought he would hate me.”

“I understood how it could happen and I was kicking myself. I found out from my brother. He told me she was pregnant again”

Ami waved her hands around as she cried. She was taking a nap when she woke up in a new place. Jason got down and took her out of her car seat. He held her as he sat back down. Bria looked at her daughter with tears in her eyes. She wanted to apologize to her for not being a better mother. Ami calmed down as he rocked her gently. She put her hands on her cheeks. Could she touch her? Not until she washed her hands. She took some of the hand sanitizer from her desk.

She put some in her hands. Thank you. She got her pacifier from her car seat and put it inside her mouth. Yum! She sucked on it.

Bria, Ami, and I just got back from her therapist appointment. She’s being monitored for possible OCD because of her anxiety over her getting sick. Her doctor gave her the go-ahead to go back on her medications. Hopefully, they will help. – Jason

I noticed that too. I trust her therapist completely. Yeah, hopefully, they will help. Please remember to take care of yourself, too. – Mike

He was. When she got pregnant, he didn’t know how hard it would be for her. Did he regret it? No, because he had his little girl. He just hoped she wouldn’t need to go back to the hospital because she hurt herself again. Her mental health was not her fault. She was doing the best she could. He reminded himself of that. When they got home, she washed her hands with soap and water in the bathroom.

She then took Ami out of her car seat. It was time to make dinner. She put her into her swing on the counter of the kitchen. After buckling her in, she turned the bouncer on. It gently bounced her up and down. She watched them as they talked about what they wanted to eat. One month old. She was slowly learning and developing new skills. The animals came in looking for their dinner. She put their food in their bowls. Thank you, human.

Jason put his arms around her and hugged her. I love you. She loved him too. Mike was also making dinner for himself. He fed Misty, who would not let him forget! Bark! Whine. Human, I’m hungry! He laughed and refilled her bowl. While he was in Cambridge, she was looked after by Phoenix and Linsey. He was stable and he celebrated another year sober.

He monitored his moods and he could tell when he was feeling manic. The band had a meeting to go over their new album. Chester used the break to go to rehab for drug and alcohol abuse. He slipped up after coming home. His girlfriend, Talinda was learning about his addictions. Samantha didn’t like her because she moved in with him right away. They learned she was pregnant. It was not easy but he was not going to abandon his child.

They were all proud of him for getting help, as they were for Phoenix remaining sober. Why did he go back to rehab? He was having trouble with his mother being diagnosed with cancer. They didn’t know that he was experiencing an episode of mania. He was diagnosed with Bipolar II. It made so much sense when he heard about the symptoms.

He was on medications to stabilize his mood. Getting a dog helped him a lot because she got him outside. She also provided support when he was going through his symptoms. How did she do that? When he was sitting down, she put her paws across his lap and she encouraged him to pet her. It helped him focus his attention on her, instead of his depression or whatever he was feeling. Good for him! What was her name? Bella.

Joe asked about Bria. Did she have her baby? Yes! She and Jason had a little girl they named, Ami Marie Shinoda. Mike was there to meet her. She was so beautiful! They laughed. How was Bria doing? She was having trouble adjusting to motherhood. Her therapist was monitoring her for OCD because she was so anxious about her getting sick.

She had intrusive thoughts about being a bad mother. They were seeing if things improved with her medications or if she needed a new treatment plan. What did she do to prevent her baby from getting sick? Everyone had to wash their hands before holding her.

If she touched something, she had to wash her hands. She was also limiting visitors because of germs. Jason was doing everything he could to help alleviate her anxiety. Jason impressed him. He jumped into being a father. When he wasn’t at school, he was changing diapers, giving bottles, and talking to her. He jumped to attention whenever she cried. It wasn’t something he expected because he never wanted children, but he was so proud of him. They couldn’t wait to meet her!

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I Know I’m Bad News (I Saved It All for You) Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Sexual situations; allusions to r*pe; mental health struggles

A/N: I edited the chapter to remove the original content. My brain can't handle the drama that came with writing something so dark.

You were toying with your newly acquired crossbow when you heard him groan. Your new plaything. You had claimed him. He and his weapon were yours, and sharing was not an option with this one. You’d hate to see those horny bastards tear him to pieces just to get their rocks off. You’d seen that too many times before. 

It was the first time you’d actually laid a claim on a person. Sure, the boys would share but only because they wanted you to scissor with some chick or had a penchant for watching you peg some poor soul with new found sex toys. It hadn’t been all bad, but none of it had been yours. None of it wanted. Unbeknownst to your fellow group members, you were in it for survival. Regardless, Joe decreed that unless you specifically asked for someone else’s assistance, you and your boy toy would be left alone, the threat of being taught left unsaid. 

Your hands stilled on the stock, narrowed eyes watching the man across from you curiously. No one else would have heard the noise. While Joe made sure you were close enough to be able to see your fire burning, to be able to hear you call for them, he allowed you to be far enough away to maintain privacy. Most nights, you slept among the group. The old man had taken you under his wing all those months ago. The boys knew better than to touch you. You were the one thing that was always off limits. 

But as long as you had—what was his name? Daryl. As long as you had Daryl, they would grant you time alone to do with the man as you wished. 

And oh, did you have a lot of wishes. 

His head rolled back and forth against the tree in slow and jerky movements. He wasn’t quite yet in the waking world. Maybe he just needed a little—motivation. 

You placed the crossbow beside your leg, far away from the man—just in case. Taking out your zippo, you flicked the lid and struck the flint, igniting the flame in one swift movement. The paper of your cigarette sizzled as it caught and you flicked your wrist downward to close the lighter and place it back in your pocket. 

“Ugh.” You had nearly finished your smoke and he had stopped moving. It was taking entirely too long. 

You pushed to your feet, quietly advancing. With a long draw filling your lungs, you crouched next to him and turned your head to exhale the smoke in a dense billowing cloud while flicking your cigarette into the fire. 

You leaned in close—but not too close. You weren’t stupid enough to think he wouldn’t slam his forehead into your nose the first chance he got. 

A wicked smile that showed all your teeth made you look damn near psychotic. Maybe you were. The apocalypse alone provided enough justification. 

“Oh god—they’re gonna kill me!” You whisper-yelled, grabbing his rather impressive bicep to jostle him. “Please wake up! You gotta help me! Please!” The moment he jerked awake, you tilted your head. Watching bleary yet wild eyes search for the damsel in distress was beyond entertaining, but nothing would thrill you more than when you saw recognition seep into his crystal clear blue orbs. “Have a nice nap?”

He remained silent, jaw tight and nostrils flaring. Oh, he was mad. His arm muscles tensed, only gathering a single sliver of your attention. He was testing his bonds, the ropes around his wrists. There wasn’t much he could do to test the one around his neck that secured him to the tree trunk besides strangle himself. 

“I know how to tie a mean knot, pretty boy.” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You aren’t going anywhere unless I say so.” You pushed on your knees to stand straight only to crouch over his thighs. His head barely made it a half inch from the tree before your palm slammed into his forehead and your handgun pressed into his chin. The hiss he offered was delectable. “Ah ah ah.” You tutted, shaking your head. “You’re a guest. Wouldn’t be to your benefit to break the host’s nose, now would it?”

He was trembling and you would bet your quickly dampening panties that it wasn’t out of fear. You released his forehead but kept your gun pressed uncomfortably hard into his chin. Dropping your knees forward, you straddled him, his bound hands trapped between his crotch and the apex of your thighs. 

Tilting your head one way and then the other, you smiled, your tongue darting out to wet your lips while you let the fingers of your free hand dance along his jaw. “You’re pretty, Daryl.” He recoiled as much as he could, his lip curled. “Come on, baby. Let me hear that voice.”

His lips parted, maybe to speak, but then closed again. Oh, he was a stubborn one. You would need to work hard to break him down, but it was the end of the world. You had nothing but time. 

“Maybe I’ll let you eat when you decide to be a gentleman and talk to me. Even take a piss.” You shrugged, patting his cheek harder than necessary while pushing to your feet. Walking back toward the fire with an intentional sway in your hips, you sat back down on your blanket and drew your knees to your chest. 

Rape wasn’t your thing. With the men you kept as company, it was something you saw often, took part in only because it was what the group did. If you didn’t participate, were you really one of the gang? Being a Claimer had kept you safe. The end of the world brought out the worst in people, yourself included. Sure, you’d tease, but you’d only fuck Daryl if he broke and begged you for it. 

Right?

You felt the switch flip in your brain, shining a light down into a closed off room in your mind where a woman stood, bound and gagged. You knew who she was and why she was silently pleading to be set free. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. 

This isn’t who you are. 

“Shut up.” You mumbled, pressing your forehead into your knees, tangling your fingers in your hair. 

You’re not him.

“I said shut up!” Your palms slammed down into the leaves, back straightening and eyes clenched shut. Your chest was heaving, a single stray tear dripping from your jaw. When you opened your eyes, the voice was silent. “Christ.” You sniffed and ran your fingers through your hair, glancing at Daryl once and then again. He was watching you with intense curiosity, those piercing eyes narrowed. “The fuck’re you looking at?” You barked. When he didn’t look away, didn’t speak, you grabbed a handful of leaves and dirt and threw it at him. 

Satisfied when he turned his head to avoid the mess hitting his face, you looked back to the fire. He was likely staring again. You could almost feel his gaze, but if you didn’t look, it wasn’t real anyway. Right?

“Go to sleep.” You said—a quiet demand. Grabbing your flashlight, you checked the perimeter lines and then placed it back inside your bag. Your sleeping bag felt more uncomfortable than usual, a soft prison in which you willingly wrapped yourself. Heaving a sigh, you forced your eyes closed and let sleep take you. 

Daryl was still watching. 

Morning came all too soon. Your nightmares had once again made sleep an elusive creature, your mind startling you awake after what felt like only minutes at a time. Dragging yourself out of the bag, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and shuffled over to Daryl, kicking the bottom of his boot none too gently. “Wake up.” His eyes peeled open, so clear that you wondered if he was even really sleeping. “One warning.” You muttered tiredly. “Don’t try to run.”

Your feet dragged and carried you around the tree, the knot difficult but not impossible for you to untie. The rope fell, and you pulled your gun from your waistband, unsurprised when he leapt to his feet and bolted. With little effort in aiming, you fired, the bullet hitting him in the left calf and sending him skidding across the ground.

“Told you not to run.” You heaved a sigh and lowered the weapon to your side, trudging over to where he lay, grunting and hissing. “Now I get to pluck out a bullet and patch you up.”  

When your hand wrapped around his bicep, he jerked away, using his fists—still bound—to push himself himself up, drawing his good leg up to balance on his knee. “Don’t fuckin’ touch me!”

“He speaks! And it was so worth the wait.” You reached for him again only to be shrugged off. “Oh, stop!” You rolled your eyes.

“Need some help over there, sweetheart?” Joe called, barely visible in the distance. 

“Nah, we’re good! He’s just being a naughty boy!”

“Teach ‘im right, now but not all the way!” 

Waving a hand, you turned your attention back to Daryl. “Listen, if you give me a hard time, then I’m just gonna need some help. I’m sure the boys would be more than happy to give me a hand.” When he sneered at you, you gave his ass a pointed glance and raised an eyebrow. “I can’t promise they won’t each want a turn afterwards.” You shrugged with a feigned smile of nonchalance. “Who would I be to say no?” He continued to glare but the moment his resolve crumbled was obvious. 

It was difficult to get a man as heavy as him to his feet with an injured leg, but it helped you to appreciate how good he felt beneath your touch, lean muscles flexing as he attempted to pull away and make it on his own. “I just shot you and you’re not at least going to yell at me?” Pouting extravagantly, you refused to release your hold.

“Ain’t got nothin’ to say.” 

You relinquished your grip and let him hobble along. “Anyone ever told you that your voice is a panty-dropper?” Daryl curled his lip but refused to look at you. “That’s called a compliment, Daryl. The polite thing to do would be to say thank you.”

“Fuck you.”

“Later.” That had his head snapping toward you, eyes wide. You just smirked and carried on. “Sit down there. I’m gonna take care of the mess you forced me to make.” Crouching over your bag, you watched him in your peripheral. He used his right leg for balance and bent it at the knee, sinking down with that single limb holding all his weight while attempting to not fall on his ass. He made it most of the way before he simply plopped down against the tree trunk. 

By the time you crawled over, there was a sizeable dark circle of blood-soaked leaves below his leg. He didn’t seem to be showing any symptoms of severe blood loss so you continued to take your time. He didn’t resist when you grabbed his knee to tilt his leg but his eyes tracked your hand while it went to the knife on your thigh. 

“Hands above your head, gorgeous.” When he didn’t move, you hung your head and sighed. Before he could blink, you had your gun to his temple and blade at his throat. “Maybe shooting you wasn’t enough. Maybe I need to do some real damage to get it through your thick skull that I am not fucking around.” Daryl grunted when you pressed the knife’s edge inward just enough to break the skin. “Hands. Above. Your. Head.”

If looks could kill, you’d have definitely been a walker. 

“I’m a surgeon with a gun, but I’m not half bad with a knife either. Don’t test me.” You threatened lowly. Your lips parted into a gleeful smile when you had to move back for him to follow through with your demand. “Good boy. Now, keep ‘em there.”

Your knife, always expertly sharpened, sliced through his jeans like butter. You only cut a small section, enough to give you access to the wound without fucking up his pants entirely. No warning was given before you splashed the whiskey over the bullet hole, watching with a twisted sense of satisfaction as he arched and hissed.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did that hurt?” Sarcasm dripped from every syllable not unlike the whiskey now dripping from your sterilized hands. “You’re gonna love this next part.” Daryl’s brow drew inward, his eyes finding and following your hand, too late to stop you from digging your finger straight into the wound. He pressed his head back against the tree with a shout. 

“Ssh.” You soothed so quietly that it almost sounded genuine. “Don’t want the dead to hear.” His breaths became ragged, skin growing pale the more you rooted around inside the injury. After what seemed like an eternity, your nail grazed over the metal. “Ah ha. There you are.” His leg was a mess by the time you pulled your finger, thumb, and bullet from the stretched disaster. You were staring at the projectile with something akin to admiration while Daryl fought to catch his breath.  

“Try to run again, the next one goes in your ass.” Head hanging, he glared at you from beneath his fringe of sweat damp hair. “I’d just love to dig that one out.”

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” He panted. 

“How much time ya got?” You shrugged, continuing the process of stitching and dressing the injury. He merely grunted. “You must be hungry.”

“Got other problems.” He grumbled immediately, his face flushing. 

You moved away from his feet, smart enough to know that one kick would incapacitate you long enough for him to get away. Not something you were willing to risk. “I could use a bathroom break too. Come on.” Gun in hand, you sheathed your knife and climbed to your feet. You reached for the rope around his wrists, but he growled and pulled away, finding a method of levering to his feet without your assistance. 

You led him away from camp—his limp profound—and waved a languid hand. “Go on then.” His brows shot up before drawing inward into a scowl. 

“Think m’gonna do it with ya gawkin’ at me?” He snapped.

“Can’t help it.” You shrugged. “You’re so shiny, easy on the eyes.”

“Pfft.” Standing by the nearest tree, he looked at you, raising an eyebrow expectantly. 

You huffed. “Fine.” You started unbuckling your belt, opening your jeans to yank them down, grinning when Daryl nearly fell over to turn away. 

“Th’fuck you doin’!?” You couldn’t see his face but the tips of his ears burned red. 

“I’m gonna take a piss too.” You peered at him, confused. Maybe you had forgotten something from the old world, but you always urinated with the other Claimers. Only one explanation made sense. “You never seen a pussy before?”

Daryl scoffed, but you noticed he didn’t answer. “Whatever.” 

You chuckled and squatted, watching him while you drip-dried. “Go on the other side,” you grinned when he angled his head to indicate he was listening without looking, “but remember there’s a bullet for your ass if you try to run.” 

After a moment, he sighed and limped around to the opposite side of the tree, granting you a wide berth. Listening closely, you stood, hearing his zipper at the same time you jerked yours upward. Biting your lip, you almost silently trekked around the tree, waiting until you were certain he was tucking himself away before springing around with a quick boo! 

“S’wrong with you?!”

“Everything, Daryl.” You laughed, observing him hungrily as he struggled back to camp. He dropped himself down by the tree, anger radiating from him in waves so powerful that you could feel it even with the distance that stood between you. 

And you couldn’t have been more aroused. 

With a whine and childish kick of your feet, you dragged yourself back to your sleeping back and plopped down gracelessly. You wanted to have fun with Daryl, but not that kinda fun. Maybe he'd actually want it eventually and you could oblige, but for now, you'd just continue to fuck with him in other ways.

"I think I'll call you Sir Hops Along." You smiled sweetly, tossing him a small bag of jerky before opening the other you had for yourself. He muttered something too low for you to hear, but snatched up the bag. Oh, he was going to be so much fun.

[scentedchildnacho]

She told me the cops would arrive and start using lifts to steal carts so I told her......the veterans pre emptively trained me to not care....i will be giving the cart to a museum.....they shouldnt just steal anthropological objects

They should have to give you your direct express card to take the cart it's creepy to just steal stuff and so people steal all their rights to personally engineered vehicles

They wouldn't have to go around looking like nothing but creepy witch bitch technocrat losers that fuck and assault everyone but they steal from us many emancipated determinations and so they may look like a stupid bitch that can't stop assaulting people

Self determination is a lot more important then being a spoiled cruel loser zelda fitzgerald for getting to be a drunks very spoiled schizophrenic died at 33 much of it will die young

Most mentals cannot concieve of really harming anyone but some mentals around serial killers can truly be capable of getting to be really heinous

Anyway I told her I'm not quite ready yet but soon I just won't tolerate pulling the cart around.....

It will be warm soon and bugs never stops stalking people to look at genitals....so soon you will be allowed a lot more water.....

She said..........the exercise and meditation lady at the library does it........so I said I don't know any exercise and meditation lady at the library I know that scary Michael Jackson lady that did creepy Halloween displays about why they can't include black staff but that lady is not a nice rubi bridges story...

If you ask me they are very playmate pornographic people and if you don't leave Michael Jackson lady alone what will kill her sexually will kill you

If you ask me rubi bridges did get a lot of tabloid media because those white families were though very nice people

The Michael Jackson lady is not I think she is a down syndrome model and crack problem

Them....I think Michael Jackson lady does have a satanist Them that isn't all that much of a problem for people that's just how they read Scripture....her homosexual other though Michael Jackson lady goes around doing these things to her and getting her incriminated instead of sued

I've never seen a woman meaner to her breasts then Michael Jackson lady.....they aren't nice to themselves

Some women bouncy breasts Michael Jackson lady has balls to fling around

The library area use to be much nicer for children but ever since Michael Jackson lady it been turned into a really gross conflict of drug addicts get attacked by that land scaping company

So they blame homeless women for attracting domestic abusers to the area......and I truly am a passavist if programs shut down I was already trained through COVID to not care.....

Its Michael Jackson lady who eventually will have to be punished for not hosting and entertaining his Kluxy addicts so

Clutz kluxy

And William could have been lynched if he won't fix their Kluxy vaccines back to morphine standards

Naps...just a little power nap and yea that's better yea

The vaccine is comatose lobotomies so it's those are his klans and it's fix it back to health code or

[catscraftsandcommentary]

I took a nap for a while.

She just... UGH.

Okay, so I just turned 34, I have a low paying factory job that I am MASSIVELY over qualified for, but I also have anxiety, depression, autism, and some chronic health problems. 🙃 Sooo changing shit is not as easy as just picking up and GOING.

What I *REALLY* want to do is pay off all my medical debt, get my credit score somewhere decent, get a job with a decent salary (AND health care, because that is NOT NEGOTIABLE for me), and then MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF MY PARENTS HOUSE and cut all financial ties with them.

So that next time mom starts being a bitch over something stupid, I can just go back to my apartment, block her messages, and if Dad tries to talk me into making peace with her (because she's your mother, she loves you, she's just worried about you...yeah but she's still a bitch with the emotional IQ of a ROCK), he has no leverage to make me. I can be like "I'll see her in therapy and not before, byyyyyyeee!"

That...is a little out of reach, short term.

And yes, mom and I both have therapists. And anxiety. And depression. And (multiple) chronic medical conditions.

I had a therapist recommend relationship/family therapy to us, like, TEN YEARS AGO and it has NEVER HAPPENED because nothing in this family ever happens until it reaches a point of crisis.

(Or until mom nags the shit out of everybody until it's easier to do it to make her shut up than it is to resist.)

I just. I am so. Fucking. TIRED. Of dealing with her.

Like, my dad isn't PERFECT at handling emotions, but he at least recognizes that other people HAVE emotions and that they're just as valid as HIS emotions, and that when his emotions (anger, frustration, etc) get too strong, taking it out on other people is WRONG and he should NOT DO THAT, or at the very least needs to fucking APOLOGIZE.

When my plans today got canceled, he apologized - even though it's not really *his* fault, just a shitty thing that happened - and said he knew I was really looking forward to seeing my friend (college roommate who moved overseas, this would be the first time we've seen each other in person in about a decade) and he hoped we had another chance to get together.

Mom...said none of that. Or if she did, it was the mean, offhand "I'm sorry your plans got canceled, BUT..." *goes back to lecturing me about how I should have listened to her, she's always right, no one appreciates her, etc*

Like. I get that shit happens. I'm not a child. I know you can't foresee everything, can't prepare for everything. But it still sucks when you were looking forward to something and it gets canceled last minute, and rescheduling is going to be COMPLICATED because my friend's mom is in chemo for cancer and she obviously doesn't want to risk exposing her to any more germs than she has to. And she's flying back out next weekend.

So yeah.

Also I just really hate the person I become around my mom. It's like, whenever I'm around her, I become the worst version of myself in self-defense. I try to be kind and open and understanding, but she either doesn't understand those or takes advantage of them. She has NO respect for boundaries, especially in mother-daughter relationships, and doesn't even understand why relationship boundaries are a THING within family.

Also? IT IS NOT JUST ME. My brother, his wife (who is amazing and a beacon of sanity), even my DAD (who's been married to her for 40+ years and still loves her, gods help him) all know she's crazy and a pain in the ass and needs therapy. More therapy than the weekly sessions she's already getting.

If I could send her to the mental health version of a detox clinic for several weeks, I WOULD. Because she has so much going on, I don't know how else it would all get straightened out.

Dad has Covid so my plans for the day got canceled, Mom was a bitch about it and we had a fight, and now I'm eating my feelings and reading shut.

What else is new.

[pandoa]

a cat and his henchman: a grim tale

in which grim awakes to find himself surrounded by blue flames and the burned ruins of night raven college. not to worry, though! his henchman is there to save them from this predicament! but, where was his henchman to begin with?

~grim x platonic!gender neutral reader~ ~word count: 1418~

warnings: angst, mentions of blood and death note: this is based off the twst theory that grim will eventually overblot and mc will be forced to fight the cat-like beast. thank you~

“(Y/n)!” Ace’s voice rang in the flaming room, catching a certain prefect’s attention.

“What in Twisted Wonderland are you doing?!”

The prefect turned to face their two friends, Ace and Deuce, with a petrified but unwavering look present in their eyes. Grim was out of control and if Crowley refused to help them for the thousandth time, someone had to stop him. 

Even a mere human with no magical abilities such as themselves would have to do.

“I’m saving Grim!” (Y/n) replied back.

The Adeuce duo glanced at one another, concern for their friend clearly shown in their facial expressions.

“Saving him?! (Y/n) you’re insane if you think you can stop this!” 

Deuce added on to Ace’s chiding, his tone a bit softer as he gazed at the prefect, “(Y/n), there’s a big chance you won’t survive. . .”

The prefect sighed, sorrow woven in the next words they said.

“Then I suppose I’m taking that risk. For Grim.” Screeching roars that could destroy one’s hearing enveloped the mirror chambers as the magicless freshman faced their beloved cat companion and friend.

Whatever happened next was fair game, and the prefect was determined to bring Grim back. Even if the price was their own mortal life.

.

.

.

.

.

Huh?

Wha..what’s going on?

Rising up from a strange pile of gravel, Grim lifted his throbbing head to see scorching flames of blue scattered across what he assumed to be NRC’s mirror chambers. Blazing fire threatened his fur-covered body as he peered at the unusual, deathly flames.

These look familiar. . .

Meh, probably nothing, the fish-loving cat voiced in his mind as he began to carefully roam around the premises, investigating each charred remains of the disintegrating building. What exactly happened here to make the school look like a tuna slice burnt on a stick, he did not know. And frankly, he did not think he wished to know with the college’s track record of overblot incidents and deranged teenagers, honestly. Crowley should really do a better job on keeping track of these students’ mental health. One day some crazy strong kid could end up destroying the whole school if they’re not careful! Grim shook his head in shame at the saddening thought. 

Nah, no way that would happen. (Y/n) could definitely beat that brat to shame with their little therapy sessions, haha! Brushing off his daunting imagination, Grim lazily rounded a corner in search of an exit only to yet again encounter-

More sapphire tinted flames. Okay, now this was just getting annoying. The small beast sighed in frustration as he mindlessly turned around, grumbling about his rumbling stomach as if anyone was there to listen to his incessant whines. Walking past the fallen pieces of gravel, numerous glass shards, and other items he couldn’t even make out if he tried, Grim made sure to keep his soft tail from being consumed by the dancing fires spread out on the jagged floors. 

To say he was lost was an understatement.

Nothing in this stupid college looked the same. Chandeliers were shattered, roofs were missing, walls were crumbling, eerie smoke filled the air he breathed, and traces of black ink seeped into the carpet. Really, all Grim wished to see was a plump bed waiting for his arrival since he felt unusually exhausted, as if he had just fought in a never-ending war with the most powerful of mages. Maybe I just need an extra lengthy cat nap, Grim pondered whilst releasing a loud yawn into the echoing chamber. I’ll just find the exit and then-

Eh?

A small glimpse of your (h/c) locks sprawled along the ground was enough for the feline to immediately dash towards your side, relief evident on his furry face. Thank the Seven he found you! He would have been stranded had he not spotted you (not that he would admit that to his minion of course) so seeing you sparked a joy that could rival free premium tuna served to him straight from the can! Ah, Grim drooled at his predictable cravings. Simply delectable. 

Snapping out of his trance, Grim soon reached your familiar frame, hollering out to catch your attention. 

“Hey! Henchman!,” he shouted, “Quit screwing around so we can go back to Ramshackle! I’m starving here!”

Grim halted mid-step, confusion racing in and out his mind upon noticing the sight before him.

Huh?

“Henchman, why are you on the ground? Has Leona’s sorry habit of napping in random places gotten to you?”

Cautiously, the small beast took slow, careful steps closer to your resting body. What was all that gunk on you? Sweat, black ink he knew certainly hadn't come from you, and. . . red liquid? Feeling his heart rate suddenly drop, Grim peered down to your disheveled NRC uniform. It had been entirely covered with the scarlet substance. 

What-

What are those marks on your skin?

Was this another failure of one of Ace and Deuce’s alchemy experiments?

Grim, impatiently, began poking at your side.

“Why won’t you answer me, Henchman?”

Growing irritated at your current predicament, the cat wasted no time in proceeding to vigorously shake you, in hopes that you would finally gain consciousness. What’s gotten into you?! The henchman he knew wouldn’t laze around like this! This has gotta be one of Ace’s pranks, right?! Right?! New, raging fear surged throughout the feline’s petite stature.

“Open your eyes!”

“The Great Grim is in your presence for Seven’s sake!” Grim exclaimed, tossing his hands in the air to emphasize his statement.

“C’mon! You can tell me why the whole building is burned down while we walk back home to Ramshackle! I’m sure it’s an amusing tale, hehe.”

Grim chuckled at his antics. Surely there was some sort of explanation regarding the ruined state of Night Raven College, right? All that was left to do was to wake you up from your rather deep slumber and both you and him could be on your merry way out of the burning building. Grim reached out for your oddly pale hand, only to retract his grip almost in an instant, however, feeling a chilling shiver run down his torso the moment his paw touched your limp arm.

Cold.

Your body, despite laying down beside a nearby fire, was cold. 

“Henchman. . .?”

“Hey, I’m not joking anymore, this isn’t funny!”

Grim’s senses sharpened. Something definitely was not right.

“Henchman!”

“Henchman get up!”

Furry paws grasped your shoulders with a frightening grip as he shook you even more, panic striking his trembling voice.

“(Y/N)!!!!!”

Then, in what seemed like a flash, visions of a terrible beast raising havoc among the NRC students and teachers alike invaded his memories with a resounding throb to his head. Was that him? Was all this his doing? More memories played through his mind as if his own conscience was taunting him. Dark magic soared across the mirror chambers, students filed out of the chaos, he exerted black, oozing blot, and you. 

You.

You appeared, terrified and fumbling over your own feet, attempting to reach wherever he was in his unhinged state while gripping a gruesome wound to your side. Blasts of his blue fire were aimed at you, taking you down with each blow. You were dying.

No, no, no!

Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop!

Unwanted memories continued to play in the feline’s head. What was real? What was fake? Grim’s very grasp of reality dissipated into nothingness as he paid no more mind to his surroundings. There’s no way he could have done this! No way!

Grim began to lose sight of whatever logical thinking he had left. Where was he? Why wouldn’t you stand up? What day was it? Where were Ace and Deuce? The small beast felt trickles of water droplets fall from his eye to his cheek. Was it raining? Why did it feel so odd to smile past his pain?

From the corner of his peripheral vision, Grim could recognize a shining black stone that could only be the result of a devastating overblot. Rage boiled within him. Piercing screeches were heard miles away as he broke down with disbelief. 

Stop fooling around already!

Grim collapsed to his exhausted knees, paying no mind to the way the deathly liquid dripping from your stomach slightly stained his gray fur.

(Y/n). . .

The cat clutched the prefect’s torn sleeve, filling the air with a final cry, similar to the wails of a lost child on the street.

“Come home with me. . .”

“Please. .”

a/n: i love angst

[pillow-anime-talk]

mentally unstable s/o.

request: aaa hi!! i don’t know if you already did a request similar to this but can you please write how the gom would react when they found out the reader is mentally unstable but they try their best to hide it?

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; light romance; kind of angst; problems; crying; eating disorders?; rather sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. satsuki momoi, daiki aomine, tetsuya kuroko, routa kise, shintarou midorima, seijuurou akashi, atsushi murasakibara {knb}

author’s note: i decided to add kuroko and momoi, because i don’t write much about them :(

— SATSUKI

↘ She will notice it immediately; thanks to the way you speak, the way you move, the way you smile, the way you eat your favorite food, and even the way you read your notes in class. She’s very perceptive and knows people and their health so well, as befits a good manager.

↘ She tries to solve this situation, asking if anything unpleasant or sad has happened recently. If you say ‘Yes’, she will definitely try to help you, but if you say ‘Everything is fine’ she will only smile and promise that in case of problems you can always come to her and talk to her about even the greatest stupid things.

↘ Momoi is very supportive and affectionate, loves to comfort you with physical contact and conversation, and – even though she cannot cook – she likes making you delicious, healthy lemonades with a mass of lemon and mint.

— DAIKI

↘ He’ll be a little upset...? He’s literally your boyfriend, and he thinks you can rely on him at all times, and hiding things like that is really unwise. He will be a bit sad, but he knows that he should not punish you, because this is how the human psyche works and after a short while he will take you on his knees and hug you very tightly.

↘ “Do you want to eat something? Maybe you prefer to watch something? Or maybe you want to take a nap with me? A short nap is good for everything.”

↘ He’s definitely not like the Aomine you know from the basketball court; he’s so affectionate, empathetic and charming that you’re totally in love with it.

— RYOUTA

↘ I don’t think he would notice your health problems right away. Just one of his friends will ask him why you don’t come to their training anymore, why you don’t add photos to Instagram and why you are often absent from school. Only then will Ryouta understand that something is wrong, something is very wrong.

↘ On the same day, he will buy you the most beautiful and fragrant bouquet of your favorite flowers and will come to your home, greeting your parents who will gladly invite him inside. Your mom will surely thank him for his visit, because she herself will be aware of your mental state.

↘ And as soon as you let him in, you will surely tell him about your problem; Kise will never interrupt you, he will only stroke your back and kiss your temple.

— TETSUYA

↘ Just like Satsuki – he will notice your mood change very quickly. However, unlike the pink-haired girl, teen will be much more ‘calm’ about this situation.

↘ At first, he will look at you, give you little signs that he knows about your mental state – he will put little, precious notes on your school desk, he will bring two bentos for the two of you, he’ll put your favorite snacks in your locker... Young boy will protect you without having to tell you about it, and you will really appreciate it.

↘ Only after a long while your boyfriend will come out of hiding and offer you a small talk, telling you that he’s trustworthy and you can tell him about all your doubts, no matter if it is health, family, school or your problems with your passion/hobby. He will be right there giving you honest advice and criticism. Kuroko will definitely help you overcome your problem and even make you better at what you have lost.

— SHINTAROU

↘ He won’t notice it right away, but when you let your thoughts drift again, he will understand that something is wrong. In addition, since the morning you have not asked him about his lucky item for this day, or what is your horoscope for today. He’ll be worried in his own way.

↘ He will quickly correct his mistakes and ask you if you have problems with school. When you cry for the first time in a long time, Midorima will immediately hug you tightly in his big arms. At that moment, attendance and good grades won’t count for him at all. Instead, he’ll take you for a short walk to a coffee shop for warm coffee or tea, and then suggest you stay overnight in his house.

↘ I think he will be more affectionate than usual, and at the end of the day he will give you some tiny, sweet talisman, saying that it will bring you good luck in the future. Thanks to your boyfriend, you will feel much better and a slight, cute smile will appear on your face again.

— SEIJUUROU

↘ Maybe not as fast as Tetsuya or Satsuki, but Seijuurou will also notice your change in behavior and general facial expressions quite quickly. At first he will only be suspicious and careful, but after a short time he will immediately ask you to talk to him in private.

↘ He will then give you several telephone numbers for different doctors, saying that if you need help from a psychologist, he will be happy to help you arrange an appointment with a specialist as soon as possible. You’ll be really grateful but you ask about conversation with him firstly.

↘ You will talk about your weaknesses, problems and gut feelings, and Akashi, as befits your boyfriend, will listen to your monologue with respect and warm gaze. Then he’ll give you some ideas on how you should deal with it and once again promise that he will be happy to go with you to the best doctor in town. He’s a very supportive and loving man.

— ATSUSHI

↘ I don’t think he will notice your change of mood at the beginning. He will still offer you to snack or watch movies together and cook something delicious, but he’ll get a little worried when you say ‘No, thanks’ to him again.

↘ “Y/N-chin are you alright? You didn’t start eating your burger and fries.”

↘ You look at him meaningfully and he will immediately understand the hint. Instantly he will take you in his arms and without saying anything else and will go with you to the bedroom. There he’ll put you on the king sized bed and you will tell him about your unpleasant thoughts and experiences related to work, family, your appearance, school, your future and your past. Atsushi is definitely a good listener, even if he doesn’t seem to be.

[thesunshineriptide]

Three is the Magic Number

Oh great wheel of names, reveal to me the trios paired!

Characters: Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ace, Deuce, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Azul, Jade, Floyd, Kalim, Jamil, Idia, Ortho, Vil, Rook, Epel, Lilia, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, Yuu, Grim

Cw// swearing, mentions of m*rder and death, implications of ab*se and Riddle’s past, implications of mental health issues, platonic bed sharing and cuddling

This is based off of my person experiences in choir. They paired us pretty randomly which lead to some…interesting situations. So I decided to do the set up I had on tour (two full sized beds, 3-4 people to a room) because I think it’s funny when other people have to go through that. I used wheel of names to sort them into threes, then whoever was left over would stay with Yuu and Grim

Group A: Idia Shroud, Cater Diamond, Sebek Zigvolt.

First thing that happens is Idia tries to get his own room. When he fails, he just groans and sucks it up. He barely sleeps anyway, so who cares. Second thing that happens is Sebek immediately goes into logistics. Who sleeps alone and who has to share? What is the shower routine going to look like? Where does everyone plan to keep their luggage? What time does everyone want to be woken up the next morning?

The answer to these questions from Cater and Idia are disappointing to Sebek. Idia says he’ll “sleep” on the floor (aka play games on his tablet until morning) and Cater says he simply doesn’t care. It ends up with Sebek sleeping alone while Cater and Idia sit on the other bed, showing each other memes and watching stupid watchmojo videos.

Eventually Sebek gets tired of the light pollution coming from five feet away and goes into a long rant about how rest is important for the body and spirit of a warrior and blah blah blah. Idia and Cater couldn’t care less, they just turn down their brightness and Sebek leaves them be. Late into the night when Cater and Idia get kinda tired, they talk about deep personal shit they normally wouldn’t, but proximity makes it hard to keep in. They end up sleeping in the same bed, and wake up spooning (Idia is the little spoon) at 6 am because Sebek is a madman.

Group B: Silver, Leona Kingscholar, and Vil Schoenheit

Being completely honest, none of these guys particularly care. There’s two beds, there’s two prissy bitches, and one dude who falls asleep anywhere and everywhere.

Silver ends up taking the desk chair in the corner, looking surprisingly comfy. Leona takes the bed closest to the door and Vil takes the one near the window and AC.

Leona ends up leaving his shit everywhere because he’s used to Ruggie being the one to pick it up. Unfortunately, Vil doesn’t play that shit and they end up getting into a fight over it. Silver wakes up sometime during this and watches them from his chair, snacking on some chips he packed.

Speaking of, Vil’s got several bags, two dedicated to clothes, one to shoes, and one to his skincare supplies and makeup. Silver packed two outfits, a collapsible staff, a baton, two daggers, a set of silverware, and a million and one snacks. Leona has no idea what’s in his bag because Ruggie packed it for him, but he knows there’s clothes and probably shoes somewhere in his duffel bag.

Eventually everyone settles back down and once Vil is done taking 2 hours in the bathroom, everyone ends up going to bed pretty easily. Vil takes beauty sleep seriously and the other two just nap wherever

Group C: Jack Howl, Kalim Al Asim, and Ace Trappola

The magic wheel of names seemed to have a thirst for chaos, because putting these three in a room is asking for it. When they first enter the room, Ace ran at the nearest bed and yelled “dibs!” While Kalim and Jack struggled to get all the luggage through the door.

Kalim, ray of sunshine he is, immediately said okay to sharing with Jack. Jack, however, had a different thing in mind, tugging Kalim over to where Ace laid face down on the bed and promptly squishing him further into it.

Ace struggled from under them and eventually managed to roll out just as Kalim’s hands managed to find a pillow, promptly smacking Ace with it. This obviously resulted in a pillow fight.

Unfortunately, Jack Howl is not as responsible as everyone seems to think, because with Ace’s insistence and Kalim’s puppy eyes, he relents to sneaking out of the room to fuck around. The three managed to steal from a vending machine, run up and down all the halls, and go swimming in the pool. They were pretty surprised to run into Floyd, who was doing the same, but he was surprisingly chill and ended up joining their little group at Kalim’s invitation.

When they finally make it back to their dorm room, Floyd ends up staying with them. Kalim and Ace share one bed while Floyd and Jack share another. Floyd is a cuddler and so is Kalim, which means there’s no escape. They all end up late for their call time and get yelled at.

Group D: Riddle Rosehearts, Ruggie Bucchi, and Malleus Draconia

Every single person in this group is nervous. Riddle is nervous because Ruggie is known for robbing people and Malleus is naturally kinda intimidating, Ruggie is nervous because holy fuck two housewardens in one room and they’re the scary ones, and Malleus is nervous because he doesn’t want to scare his little friends.

Riddle is the one to act most at ease, despite being nervous. He goes about his routine of checking his notes, taking a shower, readying his clothes for the next day, and drinking a cup of calming tea before bed like usual. Ruggie pretends everything is alright as he makes small talk with Malleus, slowly loosening up when he realizes that the faerie prince isn’t gonna eat him. Malleus mostly watches everything play out with interest, playing with his tamagotchi and idly amusing Ruggie.

Eventually Ruggie gets bored and turns on the TV to a kids channel, watching the cartoon playing with mild interest. He also makes himself some microwave popcorn, and ends up offering Malleus some as well.

Riddle wants to be pissy about the TV being on, but he figures that keeping Malleus and Ruggie happy is probably more important. Eventually after getting pretty annoyed, he also watches the cartoon. He ends up completely enraptured since he never got to watch them as a kid, and it shows. Now, instead of watching the TV, Ruggie and Malleus are watching him.

When they eventually shut off the tv after some snarky banter between the lot of them, it’s surprisingly Malleus and Riddle that share. Malleus doesn’t sleep, but he does like to lounge, and Riddle sleeps like the dead due to ignoring his parents yelling as a kid, so it ends up being good for all of them. Riddle also sleeps in fetal position and will cling to anything nearby, so Malleus ends up with a very tiny red haired menace latched on his arm in a death grip all night. Neither one talk about it when he wakes up. (Ruggie enjoys the entire bed to himself and sprawls out across it, waking up turned sideways and head hanging off the edge in the morning)

Group E: Floyd Leech, Jamil Viper, and Azul Ashengrotto

Could the great seven not show some mercy to poor Jamil? Not only is he stuck with Floyd Leech and Azul Ashengrotto for three full nights, but there was an error on the hotels part, leading there to be one king sized bed instead of two full sized ones.

Floyd and Azul don’t really care, they’ve known each other forever and it’s not like they haven’t slept in the same space before. However, both Jamil and Azul are nervous messes for one reason in particular - Jamil hates Azul. And Azul…is a simp.

After the two stand around staring at each other for way too long, Floyd just goes, “I’ll sleep in the middle!” Then bellyflops on the bed. This does not make it better.

Azul instead just sighs, then disappears into the bathroom to change. Floyd and Jamil don’t bother with that, because basketball club and all. Once everyone ends up in their pajamas and teeth brushed and all that, Azul and Floyd climb into bed. Azul lays on his side, facing outward, while Floyd lays on his back staring expectantly at Jamil.

When Jamil finally gets in, he is immediately trapped by Floyd and forced to stay laying. Now, Floyd has his legs trapping Azul’s down while he grasps onto Jamil with his arms, pressing his face into Jamil’s shoulder.

Eventually two of them manage to find sleep, but Floyd gets bored and decides to go for a swim. He ends up staying with group C for the night.

Next morning, Azul and Jamil are snuggling. It seems that everyone at this school is fucking touchstarved. Azul has his head pressed into Jamil’s chest, legs intertwined and otherwise curled in on himself, and Jamil is cradling him with one arm thrown over his waist, the other under Azul’s head. When they wake up they end up springing away from each other. Azul stutters out apologies while Jamil insistently refuses to talk about it. Then they remember Floyd is supposed to be there and start freaking out. Don’t worry, they find him.

Group F: Jade Leech, Epel Felmier, and Lilia VanRouge.

Epel nearly pisses himself when he finds out who he’s rooming with. The old guy who can burn water and the henchman of the fish mafia seems like a recipe for disaster.

It turns out it’s actually not that bad, though. Jade is perfectly courteous, even if he’s a bit formal, and Lilia isn’t nearly as chaotic as Epel assumed he would be. He never asks about bed arrangements, and neither Lilia or Jade offer any information. Instead, Jade and Lilia sit on one bed while Epel sits on the other.

It’s Lilia who turns on the TV to a competitive cooking show, but it’s Jade who seems to take most interest. The two vice housewardens talk amongst themselves about the techniques and recipes of the contestants, place their bets about who will win what round and who’s going home. Epel sits silently and half assess the skincare routine Vil makes him do.

At the stroke of midnight, Lilia stretches dramatically and says, “I think it’s time for you two to get some sleep.” Before he reaches down and digs out his game. Jade says nothing, instead changing into his comically large pajamas before quietly saying “goodnight” and settling himself into the bed he was sitting on. Epel does the same, watching laying on his side to watch Lilia and Jade for a while before he actually fell asleep. Last thing he remembered was Lilia giving a sly grin and a chuckle before waving his magic pen at him, so he assumes Lilia did something.

Lilia stays up all night, like Malleus, and plays his game the whole time. He hears people running up and down the halls at around 3am, but just laughs to himself.

Jade sleeps on his side with a pillow on top of his head, and barely moves in his sleep. He doesn’t even look like he’s breathing, which lead Lilia to check and make sure he was alive a few times. Epel, on the other hand, kicks, squirms, mumbles, and snores in his sleep. All of it fairly loudly. Jade is somewhat grumpy when he wakes up, but a latte and he’s in better shape, so he won’t have to murder his roommates today. Epel is very energized though, and practically bouncing around. Jade has to count every reason why he can’t hurt Epel in his head as he finishes breakfast, carefully keeping his face neutral but his eyes read “I’m going to stab you”

Group G: Deuce Spade, Rook Hunt, and Trey Clover

These three do not care. Like at all. Deuce has shared a bed with Ace, and Ace is an ass, so this is a cakewalk. Trey is just exhausted, and Rook is…Rook.

Rook is the one who ends up sleeping alone, due to the fact that neither Trey nor Deuce feel comfortable sleeping so close to someone who literally hunts other students, but other than that it’s chill. Trey and Rook talk about dumb science shit while Deuce does his best to keep up, even going as far as taking notes for later. They end up doing homework together for a while before watching an action-comedy movie before bed (Deuce and Rook wanted action, Trey didn’t want to be fucking bored)

Trey and Deuce don’t end up cuddling, per say, but they do end up touching. Their legs are close pressed together, Trey is somewhat sprawled, and Deuce is curled up facing away from Trey. Trey ends up with a hand pressing against Deuce’s back.

Deuce and Trey wake up slightly alarmed to do the fact that Rook is staring at him. Trey just sighs and turns over, which means that Deuce just feels kinda silly when he starts mumbling random panicked words.

Eventually they do all get up because it’s the call time, and Deuce has to very carefully persuade Rook to leave the bow and arrow behind for the day. Trey doesn’t speak until he’s had coffee, and ends up sitting near Jade in complete silence.

Group H: Ortho Shroud, Yuu, and Grim.

The one dude who’s a robot and can’t sleep in a bed is the one the prefect and Grim are left with. It’s not unpleasant - it means that each of them get their own bed, much to Grim’s joy, but it is a little odd.

Regardless, they have a great time. Ortho is always pleasant company, happy to chatter away about anything. Grim is always unpleasant company, because he’s a tiny, furry arsonist. Truly, the amount of fire in the room is a bit of a concern to the one human among them, but not enough to really care.

Grim and Ortho don’t bathe which means the bathroom is pretty much all Yuu’s. They come back to find Ortho and Grim also watching cartoons, sitting on one bed while your stuff lay untouched on the other one.

It’s roughly 11pm when you decide it’s time for the kids to sleep, and while Grim complains, Ortho doesn’t. Instead he just pulls out his charging cable and looks for the closes outlet.

Yuu gets up and goes to help him out, letting him sit in the desk chair as they plug in his charger. They carefully plug him in and make sure he’s comfy, then give him a (PLATONIC) kiss on the forehead before he enters rest mode. What a cute little robot kid.

Grim doesn’t wanna go to bed but when reminded that he has a whole one to himself, he finally settles down for rest.

Yuu goes to bed shortly after, mentally checking off everything on their list of things to do today and planning for the one of tomorrow.

When they wake up, Grim is snoozing on their chest, Ortho is carrying some prepackaged goods, and it’s exactly one half hour before call time.

“It’s important to eat something before a day full of activity.” Ortho says calmly, handing you the procured foods and leaning over to pet Grim, “We have one half hour before call time. May I go to my brother?”

Yuu nodded, “of course! Thanks, Ortho. I’ll come find you and Idia in twenty minutes, okay?”

“Okay! See you then!”

[saeyoungs-angel]

⨳​ sleepless — obey me

starring. belphegor & you

plot. you like to spend your nights wide awake in the planetarium, but that happens to be someone's favorite place to sleep.

genre. angst-fluff, hurt-comfort

cw. talk of death, spoilers for new players(ch 16+), insomnia(nightmare induced), cussing

notes. little series i'm starting:) comfort series about mental health and ur favs helpin u through it, though this took a bit of a turn with belphie giving u a much needed apology, sry<3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3

𓆩☆𓆪

the first night that you settle for stargazing instead of vying for sleep is calm and quiet, relaxing you in a way you could never achieve with reading books or drinking warm milk.

you connect the tiny yet intricate designs the sky makes, eyes lighting up in a peaceful manner. although you still struggle to coax a tired feeling to take over you, it finally happens. you fall asleep, soundly facing towards the muted light of the stars.

the second night goes by in a similar fashion, etching the constellations into your mind as they're the only thing that can bring you rest—even if it's later than you hoped. the stars snatched your nightmares from your memory, and even if it's only temporary, you're grateful all the same.

the nightmares of your death seem incomparable to the feeling of safety that flows from the planetarium, but you didn't know that the culprit had an affinity for that same room.

the third night is when you realize, hearing a shuffling noise emit from the doorway as your peace shatters around you. you glance his way, fear flooding back to you as his eyes are harsh, wondering why you're sitting comfortably in his favorite place.

you begin you rise from the only couch and apologize for intruding, hoping to dismiss the tension before he shakes his head wordlessly. keeping his distance, he opts to place his pillow on the floor.

you stay silent as ever, never uttering a single thing to him or yourself as you watch him drift off to sleep, something you wish you could do as easily as he does. he is the sin of sloth after all, it's only right that he can sleep so much, maybe you shouldn't be jealous.

you continue to name the constellations in your head, pointing to them with a hand close to your chest as to not inadvertently wake him. though it drags on longer than the previous nights, your eyes grow heavy as you name one last set of stars.

the next couple quiet nights go by without interruption, your sleepless habits slowly fading away with a bit of time.

though, tonight is different, very different.

you lie awake, thoughts running rampant as the sleepy feeling never welcomes you. you glance at your phone, 4:57am it reads. you have classes tomorrow, and yet here you are, unable to even shut your eyes for longer than a minute without them springing back open.

you tried counting the bright lights above you, efforts pointless as you only become sidetracked by things in your peripheral. your daily nap between class drained any ounce of sleep from your system. you had that stupid reoccurring nightmare, again.

even his existence shot fear through you, so why did you have to be plagued by nightmares aswell? sleep paralysis was no better, and thats exactly what it was. you absolutely despise the feeling of being taunted while you're helpless, frozen in place against your will as you can't even manage a plea.

the recent memory causes the thought of peaceful rest to panic you, and you decide to sit upright on the couch, scrolling through devilgram thoughtlessly.

the door opens, and your blood suddenly feels cold running through your veins.

“don't you have classes tomorrow?”

with you huddled in the very right corner of the couch, belphegor ponders for a moment, then plops down on the left—far away from you.

you shudder unnoticeably, “i do.” is all you reply with. the edge in your voice is clear, insinuating you have nothing left to say to him.

he eyes you in thought, unnerving you in the process. why is he staring at you like that??

“you look like shit.”

oh, that's why. you can't help but feel a bit defensive—not everyone can sleep as willingly as he does, why does he have to point it out?

you scoff, rolling your eyes in the slightest before resuming your scrolling. you intended to ignore him completely, yet it seems he has other plans.

he scoots a bit closer to you, attempting to peer over your shoulder. you scrunch up your face in distaste, “don't be nosy.”

you turn towards him, covering your face with your phone in avoidance. can't he take a fucking hint? you scroll and scroll, but his presence never shifts, not even a bit.

you poke your head above the screen, only to be met with his eyes shining straight back at yours. “why are you staring at me, dude?”

your aggravation is abundant at this point, fear diminishing as annoyance replaces it quickly. he quirks a brow, teasing smile resting on his sleepy face.

“you can't sleep, can you?”

you practically growl, shutting off your phone and deciding to head off to your room in hopes of atleast a little more peace than this. his taunting does nothing for your state, if not worsening it.

before you can march off completely, he snatches your wrist and you immediately tug it away.

“don't touch me.” you rub the place his fingers grasped, hoping to rid it of the icky feeling it gave you. you begin to stomp off once more before he freezes you in your tracks.

“wait! i can.. i can help you sleep.” his voice sounds concerned, yet you know better. fool me once, shame on you, but twice? yeah no, we've all heard the saying.

you glare at him, not a drop of playfulness included. “do not lie to me. you know you don't care.—”

his lips part as if he has something to say, but you don't give him a single chance. “—and even if you did, it'd be because i'm related to someone you actually cared about. fuck off, belphegor.”

you turn back, finally stretching a hand out for the doorknob and—

“i'm sorry.”

did you hear that correctly? you don't move to look at him, but answer nonetheless. “sure you are. you're about as sorry as you were when you gave me that hug, huh?”

does he think you're stupid? if you gave him the chance to help you sleep, he'd probably give you the worst dreams you've ever had, and maybe even attempt to end your life again. your trust in him is nonexistent now, and the nightmares only fuel the fire.

you can hear him sigh, quietly and to himself, before he stands to face you a few feet away. “look at me.”

you shake your head, feeling tears blot in your eyes at the predicament you've found yourself in.

“look at me, please?”

you give in, slowly shuffling around to where you can see his feet. yes, you're staring at his feet, because why would you show the demon who murdered you in cold blood how vulnerable you are?

he huffs, bending down to wave a hand by his knees. “hey, up here. i'm not gonna come near you if you don't want me to, i just want you to look at me.”

your eyes begrudgingly shift to meet his, and a small, comforting smile sprouts on his face. “there's those pretty eyes of yours.”

you flush unwillingly, no where near expecting those words from him. you despise the fact that he has this effect on you, even with all he's put you through. you attached yourself to him only a month or two after meeting the sleepy boy in the attic, eventually coming to love his quite unlovable attitude.

now? you don't know what to feel. betrayed, obviously, but still in love? how is that even possible with all thats happened in the past few months?

your thoughts are soon interrupted, belphegor catching your uncomfortable demeanor in a flash. “i'm sorry, for everything i've done to you. the manipulation, the lies, and the.. that.”

you notice that even he feels awkward saying it out loud, yet your feelings overwhelm you in an instant as your cheeks begin to dampen. he continues,

“i'm so fucking sorry, (y/n). i'm not saying this because lucifer told me to, or because you're related to lilith. you're you, and i'm sorry for putting you through all those things.”

his apology is met with silence, because how are you suppose to react? you sniffle, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact. it feels like he's truly saying sorry, and you're not about to fuck this up. he frowns at your lack of words, squeezing his eyes closed in one last attempt at convincing you to use him to help you sleep.

“i love you.—”

your eyes widen, mouth slightly agape as this is the first time you've heard these words since you've arrived here. you never thought they'd come from your attacker, no less.

he quickly sucks in a breath, “i've loved you for months. even when—when i gave you that hug, i loved you. i was so stupid, and i acted like, well, a demon. i completely understand if you can't ever trust me again, but just this once—”

a new wave of tears brim on your waterline.

“let me help you, please. i'll never speak to you again, but i can see that you're struggling right now. it hurts me to see you like this when i have the ability to help.”

you're too exhausted to fight back at this point—not that you planned to after that—, but you do search his eyes for something, anything to console your fears. there it is, you found it.

his eyes swim with what you can only place as grief, had he been tormenting himself for it the whole time? normally you'd be glad that karma is finally traveling his way, yet you can't find it in yourself to feel happy—you only feel upset.

without words, you pad back to the couch and sit with your arms hugging your knees, pillow in between for comfort. he takes a seat beside you, not close enough to startle you, with a gentle smile adorning his features.

he pats his lap lightly, offering you a new pillow. “you absolutely don't have to—”

you've already placed your head comfortably in his lap, staring up at him with sad eyes. he's a bit shocked to say the least, but definitely grateful that you're accepting his apology even a bit. “if it makes you feel safer, i can call beel to come stay with us. i'm sure he won't mind after grabbing a few snacks.”

you appreciate his thoughtfulness, wondering how the hell you went from fighting to laying on his lap. then you remember, you've loved him this whole time, trying to convince yourself otherwise in vain. you shake your head, reaching a hand up to softly rest it on his face.

“i trust you.” while it's not a complete lie, you figure that if you die tonight, atleast you'll go thinking he loves you the way you love him.

his cheeks flush just a bit before he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and placing a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

“just so you know, i don't act like this ever, so it'll take time for me to learn to be nicer to you. that being said, i'll never hurt you ever again, okay?—” he releases your hand, his finding your hair to trail his fingers through it gently.

“—i love you, and i'm not only promising to not lay a hand on you harmfully, but to protect you.”

you feel the faint presence of magic seep from him, wrapping itself around you with care.

“i love you, too, belphie. please don't break my trust.” with that, your eyes shut as you finally manage to drift off facing the stars, knowing he's there to watch over you.

while you rest, belphegor genuinely stays wide awake for the first few hours, making sure to etch mirthful dreams into your mind before snatching his pillow and getting comfortable beside you.

“(y/n)..?” lucifer calls out your name, stepping into the planetarium in worry as you've seemed to skip breakfast. you're also not residing in your room, so you must be here right?

he sees nobody, getting ready to inform diavolo before a snore reaches his ears. he treads closer to the couch, you and belphegor's sleeping figures entering his sight.

he smiles lightly, wondering how you both managed to make up in a nights worth of time, but thankful nonetheless. he's not one to do this normally, but he can't help himself.

click

and a photo is snapped, saved securely in his phone for when you both awaken. he figures he can give you guys just one day off, just this once.

𓆩☆𓆪

feedback is extremely meaningful!

[heartfulofsighs]

Nice Things…

Hello All! Coming back with little writings here and there as my inspiration comes along. A little episode inside of the Something to do with Jackson sphere (1, 2) 

Let me know what you think! @negrowhat you know I gotta tag you in everything lol

Jackson decides you both are in need of a little rest and relaxation. Nothing is better then a nice beach house complete with a gigantic bath tub.��

About 4k words; Warnings: Very light smut like its super light, but I’m obligated to say it includes fingering a praise kink and a bathtub. 

Laundry shouldn’t be difficult. Well in retrospect it wasn’t difficult at your old apartment. The laundry room there was stocked with 5 very old very worn washing and drying machines. They were faithful and predictable. They only had about 3 options and 2 dials. Simplicity at its best. You missed them every time you had a load to wash and dry. You had been living in Jackson’s apartment for months and you still couldn’t figure out his machines. For one thing they were sleek and black, very modern, apparently super efficient. They worked via a touch screen and the breath of options that appeared every time you fired them up made you nervous. Twice you had shrunk a favorite article of clothing. You had also ruined your running shoes, the washing machine seemed incredibly aggressive to you. But today was going to be different. This was your only task. You could do this. The touch screen lit up, you took a breath, the beeping started and an array of options appeared. Water temperatures, agitation speeds, your finger hovered over the first option- “BABY, THIS IS WHERE YOU WERE!?” Jackson’s voice boomed in the laundry room. You turned, frantic that all his noise would upset whatever fragile understanding you had. “Jackson!” You hissed, “shush!”

  His hands snapped to cover his mouth. He looked around his brows knitted, “what’s going on?” He whispered. “I’ just,” you turned back to the machine but you didn’t feel the same confidence, “I’m trying to figure out your stupid space aged washing machine.” You confessed, “everytime I put something in here I ruin it.” “Maybe you’re thinking about it too hard.” He walked up behind you and looked down at the same screen. “Baby?” He began slowly, he touched the screen flicking left twice until he got to a place that said ‘presets’.  “Why don’t you just use these instead of trying to pick through all those other settings? This is what I use.” “You’ve got to be kidding me.” You muttered softly. There were easy to understand presets displayed proudly.   “You didn’t know about these?” He asked, “I could have sworn I showed you the last time you shrunk your sweater?” You rubbed your face in continued disbelief. All this time. “The dryer has presets too, did I show you those?” He kept talking because of course to him this wasn’t a big deal. You had made it one, once again, something tiny had become huge to you.   “You want me to help you with your laundry? Since I’m home today I wanna spend it with you ok?” When you took your hands away from your face he was beaming like the sun at you. You wondered how he could look so worry free. His job was so stressful, he barely got time for himself or you yet he was always beaming. You wanted to be a bit more like him. Just enough so that inanimate objects stopped irritating you for no reason.            “If you want to help sure, but this stuff is kinda boring. You sure you don’t want to nap? Or I could make you something to eat?” You offered.          “We can do that after, this won’t take long.” He pointed out. He wasn’t wrong. You selected the ‘delicates’ option since you wanted to wash your undies and bras first.          “Ok, delicates first then.” You looked in his direction expectantly. The two baskets of laundry were already separated.            “Just pass me the stuff in the blue basket.”  You instructed, “I’ll do them first.”   He dutifully began to hand you clothes. Some things he stopped to look at. “When did you get this bra?” He asked holding up a flowery bra that you had bought a few weeks ago.   “Like two weeks ago?” You guessed, maybe three. Your hand was outstretched waiting for it. “Oh,” was all he said before he handed it over, “I haven’t see you wear it.” He said softer. “Well, it’s a bra Jackson…” You tried. He handed you a few pairs of underwear which you put in. He was a touch less cheerful as you finished loading. He helped with the detergent and softner before he got the machine started. “I feel so dumb,” when you turned to him he frowned. “I really wish I had remembered about the presets. I’ve been having a battle with this machine since I got here.” You confessed. “Baby...I really don’t think it’s a big deal.” He leaned down and pecked you. “You can ask me questions you know? Before you make a mountain out of a molehill.” “But I’m so good at that.”  You pointed out. He kissed you again. His hands trailing down your arms. When you pulled away he pouted. “Let me at least finish the chores, I have a few things more I wanna clean.” You complained. He accepted this and let you go, “I’m gonna have two weeks off...do you have a lot of work?” He asked. It took you a moment to think about what you had to do, some things could wait and really only one required you to finish immediately. “I just have to finish one job then I think I can take some time off.” You stretched and looked at him with curiosity. “What did you want to do?” He pushed some of your hair behind your ear, “can we go on vacation?” “Where did you want to go?” You spoke as you tied your hair up. “Someplace warm?” You asked. He nodded, “an island!” It seemed like a solid idea. You thought it over, Jackson in his usual fashion grew impatient. He tapped his feet and poked out his lip, “we can have a private beach house…” He edged closer. “That sounds...isn’t that a little extravagant?” You often wondered when you would be able to accept Jackson’s penchant for spending on you. There was something that always made you cringe. “I don’t want you to spend too much-” He frowned and you snapped your mouth closed, “you deserve…” He began. You sighed, “nice things.” He accepted you finishing his sentence quietly before he went back to trying to convince you. “It’ll be private...no cameras...just you and me.” He had basically backed you against the machine. He leaned forward and set his hands on it, caging you in. You couldn’t look away. “We live together but I always miss you,” he kissed you and it was mostly soft. “I’m gone a lot and I feel horrible about it,” he kissed you again nibbling on your bottom lip. “Do you miss me when I’m not here?” “Like crazy.” You whispered. His eyes were on yours, pupils wide. His breathing picked up as you snaked your arms around his neck. “So let me take you to the beach, let’s spend a week....please.” His kiss was less soft more insistent. He pushed until your back was pressed to the machine, the hum seemed to burn through your blood. You kissed him back, hands gripping the hair on the nap of his neck. The time apart always made the time together feel like a single point in the universe. There wasn’t a whole apartment, a whole city, there was just you and Jackson. Starved for each other, hungry to touch and feel. He was so good at making you melt, so good at making you desperate for him. You tasted him and whimpered. The beach was suddenly a fantastic idea, more time alone for more of this. He ground against you and his moan made your knees weak. “Ok,” you managed to say against his lips. He pulled away and beamed at you. The unmistakable look of getting his way. “So we’ll go the day after tomorrow...I actually may have set it up already.” “Jackson.”

You had never been swept away before. In past relationships you had lacked the time and your partners seemed to lack the motivation. It hadn’t bothered you truly because how can you miss something you didn’t have to begin with? You thought about it as you packed and he buzzed around the room with excitement. “Don’t forget bathing suites!” He warned, “and sunscreen!” “I have both.” You answered slowly, “and something nice for dinner...right?” When you looked up he was zipping his bag up. “Yes, and then...not much else…” He raised his eyebrows quickly suggestively and you giggled. He stopped to touch his hand to your leg, “I love you in anything.”   “If it was up to you, I’d just walk around naked all the time.” You said slowly. He considered this then said, “only if you want.” Then he was moving again, his energy nervous all throughout the room. “Are you almost done?” He asked. “The car will be here soon.” You just needed to decide on your one nice outfit. It had been a while since you had really gone out. He had seen you in just about everything you owned...except.... At the back of your closet you had hung a tropical print skirt and top set. It was out of your comfort zone but the print would really work. “Hurry hurry baby.” He chided. You had just enough time to grab it from the closet and stuff it into your bag. He took your hand and led you. The smile on his face relaxed yet you could feel the excitement bubbling out of him. He kissed you in the elevator before the doors opened, then led you to the long black car idling at the apartment building’s entrance. He opened the door for you and waited till you were settled before he put the bags in the trunk and got in next to you. Then his hand was back in yours like it belonged there. “Do you think you’ll get recognized at the airport?” You tried your best not to sound nervous but the thought of screaming fans made your stomach heavy. “I don’t think so, we’ll be in then out.” He brought your linked hands up for a kiss. “Don’t be nervous, it’ll be fine.” You settled into the seat and tried your best not to worry. The media in a way wasn’t very interested in you and Jackson’s story anymore. When they did happen to catch photos of you two together it wasn’t big news but most of the comments were still pretty awful. It was better for your mental health to not read them but every so often you saw yourself online and couldn’t stop yourself from looking. The general take was that you were literally a weight dragging him down. It never seemed like a good idea to comment back, better to just read it all in silence, and really it wasn’t all bad. There was a spattering of people who liked you. Who said nice things and said they were cheering on the relationship. People who pointed out that Jackson was happier with you in his life. You weren’t sure if you would give yourself that much credit but you hoped that he felt how you did. He leaned over, “what are you thinking about so hard?” He planted a kiss on your cheek startling you out of your own head. He had a way of knowing when you were thinking yourself down a rabbit hole. He redirected you gently and patiently. His hand squeezed yours again.   “Nothing, just the work I left...hopefully I did enough.” You said. He knew it wasn’t that, but he didn’t push.. He kissed you on the cheek again, “don’t worry about it, just try your best to relax.”  He whispered. It took you a moment of second guessing, but there was no real use in fighting with Jackson. Especially since you actually did need a relaxing vacation. There would be no worries on the beach, that’s all you had to tell yourself over and over and over again.  

There weren’t any cameras, no reporters, no mobs of fans. He had his mask pulled up and dark sunglasses on. You were wearing one of his caps and your own mask pulled up. The two of you looked like any couple on their way to a romantic trip. He only let go of you to pass through security. Once his hand was out of yours there were new worries. An airplane. The last time you had flown you were forced between a grumpy office worker and a woman who seemed to have bathed in perfume. You remember distinctly how the office worker had complained about her perfume and how she called him lonely and sad. It had been for the most part very unpleasant. Suddenly all you could think about were all your worse flights.  You fumbled through security, including the awkward second search. Taking his hand on the other side calmed you down a little bit. “You’re making a mountain again.” He said into your ear. “I can’t remember ever having a good flight,” you squeezed his hand and almost missed a step. “Every flight that lands safely is a good flight baby.” He chimed happily and just like that you relaxed a bit. He was right of course. Bad seatmates didn’t make a bad flight. Small things didn’t have to be big. Once again you tried to calm yourself, to convince yourself that you were on vacation. You were being swept away and it would be great if all your extra thoughts could be swept away too.

“This is the house?” After a flight you slept through, and an ok trip through the airport that involved a car rental associate who was star struck, here the two of you were. The house was directly on the beach. From the outside it didn’t look like much which made you feel a bit better. If he had rented a beach mansion or something along those lines you would have worried the whole trip about how much all of it had cost and...and if you were really worth all the trouble. But this,...this was so quaint and so cozy. “This is it.” He pulled into the driveway and then put the car into park. You got out admiring the house’s slightly cracked white paint, the green ivy underneath the two small windows on either side of the weathered wooden door. The waves sounded incredibly close and you guessed the beach was literally right in your backyard. Jackson was behind you with your bags. “Here,” when you turned he was holding the key towards you all smiles, “open her up.” He instructed. The key got stuck for a moment in the lock. You panicked per usual but it gave when you pushed your shoulder against the heavy wood. “Be careful,” he clucked his tongue at you but you ignored him. You were stuck looking at the inside. Everything was so bright. You sucked in a breath because of all the light. There were huge skylights all throughout. The entryway was neat, a small blue weathered table held a bowl where Jackson dropped the car keys. He pressed his hand to the small of your back and your feet automatically started to shuffle step forward. The entryway opened into a small kitchen with white tile and teal cabinets. The appliances didn’t look new aged or terrifying like Jackson’s. The big white well loved looking stove was comforting. Through the kitchen There was an open airy dinning room and living room. The living room ended in two gigantic glass doors that opened onto a hedge enclosed patio. The bricks were weathered but still a good red. There was a round picnic table with a few shelves, a rack with two surfboards, and what looked like a hot tub. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your cheek, “let’s look at the bedroom.” It was through a doorway off the kitchen, past a half bathroom. The bedroom suite seemed to be all windows. There were three huge windows with breezy white curtains. The bed was gigantic four poster deal, piled high with pillows at the head. The comforter was white like everything else. “There’s one of those clawfoot tubs,” He led you a little further in, towards the doorway of the bathroom. The tub was huge. There was a shower head on the wall above it. Another two windows, more light. “This place is beautiful.” You finally got out. He squeezed your hand, “I know you like simple things and I thought this place would be nice. The beach is right down a back path and-” You tipped your chin up lips pursed asking for him to dip and kiss you. “Thank you so much for bringing me,” you spoke against his lips. He wrapped his arms around your waist. “You’re welcome.” His smile was triumphant. He only let you go to help unpack but beamed the entire time like a happy child. You knew this look, his eyes were centered on yours. He licked his lips before he kissed you. “I picked this house because it’s cozy and…” He trailed off to kiss you again. “And?” “And you never wanna have fun in my bathtub so I made sure that this house had one that was so big you couldn’t argue with me about soaking together.”  He explained. “Jackson.” He beamed again his face back to innocence, “don’t you want to soak with me?” He asked. “You don’t just want to soak,” you pointed out. He shrugged, “humor me.”  In truth he had begged to soak with you plenty of times but the tub in his apartment made you nervous. You had this vision of the two of you settling in and getting stuck or getting in and overflowing the tub in an embarrassing splash. Well maybe it wouldn’t be embarrassing to him but in your mind it was motifying.  You bit your bottom lip and considered the big claw foot tub in the house again. “I guess there’s no harm in a nice soak.” You said softly.  He could barely contain his excitement, he moved deliberately trailing his hands down your waist then squeezing. He searched your face before he broke out into a grin that made you laugh.   “Jackson,” it was hard not to laugh at him. “Jackson right now? You don’t want to eat first?” He cocked his head, “I do, but let’s do that later, my back hurts from the flight.” You made a ‘sure’ face but didn’t argue. It was better to humor him, he gave your bottom another not so gentle squeeze before kissing the top of your head. “So a nice bath, then I’ll make you food,...” he trailed off and took your hand.

The fragrance from the bubble bath he found was making your head feel dreamy and relaxed. His back was against one side of the tub and yours was on the other. He insisted on massaging your feet and there really wasn’t any huge point to arguing. He rubbed away while you sighed slowly to yourself. “You have the cutest little feet.” He murmured. “They’re so gross.” Your response was automatic, years of having being told they were flawed in some way meant that you were use to parroting back the words when you were complimented. “They’re perfect on you.” He dug deep into the sole of your foot and you couldn’t help but groan. “Always say nice things about yourself.” He murmured. “Yeah I know.” You sunk lower into the water and he took the invitation to work his hands up your leg. It was hard for you to say nice things about yourself all the time. You were use to your self deprecating jokes. But he was quick to redirect them, he always told you to make it nice instead. His hands were steady on your body focusing your mind back into the moment.  It was never gonna be just a soak, but you didn’t do anything to stop him. He felt the back of your knee and a shiver ran up your body. His eyes were focused on your skin, “you’ll let me do this at home now right?” He pulled himself a little closer so his hands could go further up, “a nice hot bath, foot massages.” “You’re very good at them,” your voice was barely above a whisper. His eyes seemed to darken. He leaned farther forward, upsetting the water and bubbles so he could kiss your forehead. Under the water his hand had made it all the way up which meant his fingers were in a prime position to rub you where you were most sensitive. He kept the pressure light, teasing you. A whine broke past your lips. He ducked his head and kissed you. “I want you to relax,” he said softly against your lips, he dipped his fingers inside of you. It was so hard not to squirm, he pulled them back and forth slowly before he stopped. You gripped the sides of the the tub and tried to urge him to move. His eyes were mischievous. “Jackson,” You tried to roll your hips to get him to do anything but tease you. He cocked his head, “say something nice about yourself.” The command confused you. Your brow furrowed and for a moment you were confused, “what?” He pulled his hand completely away and touched your face instead. “I read that it’s nice to hear compliments from others but reinforcing it with words you say to yourself is even better.” His voice was earnest his hand dipped into the water again and found your breast. “Something nice…” He played with your nipple and you whimpered. Your mind was reaching for something, any sort of compliment that would make sense. “I like my thighs.”   He beamed, triumphant, then pinched your nipple lightly, “what else baby? You’re so beautiful there’s a million things to compliment.” You were so use to his praise that it was hard to give yourself the same attention. He switched to your other nipple and kissed your forehead again. “One more.” He encouraged. You swallowed, his hands sending pleasure and want all throughout your body. You willed your brain and your mouth to talk, to say something so he would give you what you needed. “I have nice skin...the cream you gave me makes it so soft.” You admitted. He liked that, he kissed you harder. He had both hands involved now, tickling the sides of your tummy. The giggle that escaped your mouth made his smile even wider. “The most perfect skin.” He spent the rest of the bath praising you. Cooing all his favorite compliments while he played with your body. It didn’t take long before your hands gripped the side of the tub and you called his name. Your body locked and then the pleasure ripped through your limbs in what felt like a blaze. Dimly you knew you had splashed water and maybe that would have embarrassed you, but there were more important things. Like the way you still shook while he kissed you everywhere he could reach. If you felt dreamy before your mind was downright foggy now. “You liked that baby?” He asked, finally pulling away to look at you. Your bones felt like jelly, thank god the tub wasn’t too deep. There was no doubt in your mind you would have melted further into the water. It took you what felt like hours to barely nod your head and indicate that yes you had indeed liked it. “It’s so cute when you say my name like that.” he went back to sitting across the tub from you, a smug smile on his face. You didn’t know what face you were making but hopefully it was satisfied. “Let’s just spend the rest of the time here.” You finally got out. He didn’t argue with you, just rested his head on the rim of the tub, “as long as you’re happy that’s all I care about.” You sat up a little, “I’m the happiest I’ve been in forever.” “Perfect.” He spoke softly and maybe it was more to himself than you but he was right. The feeling was perfect.