#also body stuff. I made the mistake of weighting myself a few weeks ago and it goes on a loop-de-loop on my brain

[ginger-and-oliveoil]

. Tw

[no-pucks-given]

NILS HOGLANDER | SWEET LOVIN’

A/N: I wrote this imagine a few weeks ago for a few of my friends, since Nils is the only player we have in common. I did rewrite some parts today so I could post it on here as well. It’s just some ‘feel good’ smut with a message. 

Warnings: A bit of angst and some talk about insecurities, sweet and soft Nils, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, some swearwords, and some more sweet and soft Nils.

Word Count: 3.8K

It’s hard dating a NHL player, every move they make, every step they take gets noticed by someone. Every mistake, every misstep gets noted down by someone. It’s tough to always be in the spotlight, especially for their relationships and family. You struggle with the amount of negativity you read on the internet about Nils, but also about you and your relationship. You know, oh you know you shouldn’t read anything they write. You should probably just stay clear of social media at all. It makes you feel insecure, and you know it’s stupid, but you can’t help yourself.

Of course there are also a lot of positive notes to read, but it almost seems like you only pick up the negative ones. It’s almost like you enjoy torturing yourself, even though that’s not true at all. You hate it, you absolutely hate it, and yet you can’t stop yourself from getting sucked into the negativity every time. Reading negative things about yourself is one thing, but hearing them in real life is a whole other category.

Today is one of those days. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you didn’t want to hear anything at all, but you did. You try to shrug it off, but luck isn’t on your side today. The girls follow you into the bathroom, still talking about Nils, about you, and about your relationship. You walk into the first stall you see, locking the door behind you. You try to catch your breath, keeping the tears at bay. There’s no way you’re going to cry with those girls around, you just can’t let them get to you that easy.

You brace your hand on your chest, trying to calm down your racing heart. Your head falls back against the door, slow breaths in and out. As soon as you feel like you have at least some of your composure back, you open the door. You lock eyes with one of the girls, who simply smirks at you. She turns to one of her friends, nodding her head towards you. “I told you she isn’t anything special,” she laughs, her eyes raking over your body. The other girls join her laughter, before turning their backs towards you.

You had no intention of running out, or letting these girls win, but they hit you with the one thing you’re most afraid of. What if you aren’t enough for Nils? What if he finds someone else? Someone better? You freeze, all of your insecurities hitting you at once. Afraid to fall apart right now and there, you turn around, bolting out of the bathroom.

There’s absolutely no way you’re staying here a minute longer than necessary. You came here to study, not to have a mental breakdown in front of all these people. It takes you exactly 3 minutes to pack up your stuff, pay your bill and make your way over to your car. The moment you sit down you drop your head on your steering wheel, letting the tears fall freely.

At some point you calm down, your insecurities still on the surface of your mind, but you know now those girls just tried to get under your skin. They tried to get some sort of reaction out of you, and you gave them exactly what they wanted. You sigh, shaking your head. It doesn’t matter. You know Nils loves you, you know you’re enough for him. You know it. So why is it so hard to accept it sometimes? Because you’re human, that’s why.

Your mood improved immensely by the time you get home. You see Nils’s car in the driveway, smiling softly at the fact he’s home already. The moment you step through the door you drop your bag to the floor, and kick off your shoes. You walk towards the living room, spotting Nils on the couch. “Hey, baby,” you call out to him. His head shoots up, surprised eyes looking back at yours.

“Hi, babe. You’re back early?” he says, questioning your early return. You shrug your shoulders.

“So, where’s my food?” he asks excitedly, looking around for the bag that should contain his food. You blink a few times, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, trying to remember when he asked for food. Nils spots your confusion, an annoyed sigh leaving his mouth. “Really? You forgot my food?” Nils sighs, hand brushing through his hair. “I texted you? Asking if you could bring me some food for after I finished my training?”

At this point you’re just annoyed, if he wanted food he could’ve called. Hell, he could’ve gotten food himself. “I didn’t receive a text, so obviously I didn’t bring you any fucking food, Nils,” you tell him, your words coming out harsher than you intended to.

He raises his eyebrow at you. “Fucking perfect,” he mutters, turning back around.

You sigh again, before pushing past your pride and past your own emotions. “Do you want me to make you something? I can just quickly cook something for you?” you ask him softly.

“Don’t bother, y/n,” he simply tells you, continuing his game.

“You know what, Nils? Go bother someone else if you need anything, but leave me the fuck alone,” you spit out, before turning on your heels and stomping towards the bedroom. You hear Nils yell something at you, but at this point you simply don’t care.

You strip out of your clothes, pulling one of Nils’s sweatshirts over your head, and climbing into bed. You just want to be alone for now, alone with your thoughts, alone with your insecurities. Just alone, engulfed in the cosiness of this bed.

After 30 minutes Nils realises you’re not coming downstairs anymore. He didn’t mean to be so annoyed when you forgot his food, it’s just that he’s really fucking hungry. It’s no excuse, but after an excruciating training he was so desperate for some food. He picks up his phone, scrolling through his messages until he finds your name. The moment he opens your chat he knows he made a mistake. There’s no message from him to you asking for food. “Fuck!” he curses. He realizes he fucked up, badly.

Nils makes his way upstairs, knowing damn well you deserve an apology for the way he acted. He quietly opens the door, eyes searching the room for you. He finds you curled up in bed, softly sniffling. Shit, he didn’t mean to make you cry, it’s the last thing he wants. Quietly he slips off his clothes, leaving him in just his boxers.

Gently he pulls back the covers, revealing your curled up body. He crawls in bed behind you, pulling you close to his body. He moves your hair to the side, revealing the soft skin of your neck. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, leaving a soft kiss behind your ear. “I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have been so mad at you, especially considering I didn’t send you any message about food,” he whispers against the shell of your ear.

You can’t help the chuckle that escapes through your sobs. “That’s so you, Nils,” you tell him. He chuckles against your neck, sending chills all over your body. “I’m sorry too, babe,” you sigh, “I just had a really shitty day, and I aimed my frustrations at you.”

Nils traces soft circles on your thigh, still kissing the exposed skin of your neck. “Why did you have a shitty day, y/n?” he asks you softly. You try to shrug his question off, but Nils feels there’s more behind it than you let on. “Talk to me, baby,” he murmurs.

You turn around in his arms, burying your head in the crook of his neck. “It’s just that these girls were talking shit about me, about our relationship, and it made me insecure. They made me doubt myself, and wondered if I’m good enough for you,” you mumble, trying your hardest to not relive their words and looks again.

Nils stills for a split second, before rolling over, crushing you under his weight. He wiggles himself between your legs, looking up at you with a serious expression. His hands move up to cup your face, making sure you’re hearing every word he’s about to tell you. “There’s no other woman for me out there, y/n. You are it for me, okay?” He looks at you expectantly, you nod your head at him. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, there’s no one who catches my eye like you do. No one, y/n.” he tells you, his eyes swirling with love, adoration. You listen to every word he has to say, every doubt you had leaving your body.

Nils looks at you, a wicked glint in his eyes, the smirk on his face promises you nothing but mischief. His hands slide from your face towards your breasts, squeezing them softly. “You have the most amazing tits, and I can’t stop touching them,” he says cheekily, giving you one of his boyish smiles. You laugh at his statement, but Nils isn’t done yet. His hands slide down further, cupping your ass in both his hands. “Your ass is so nice, I don’t even have the right words to describe it,” Nils says, squeezing each cheek.

At this point you’re a giggling mess underneath him, enjoying all the things he has to tell you, but mostly enjoying carefree Nils. His hands once again move, this time towards your panties. You gasp when he cups your pussy. “I fucking love your pussy, I can’t wait to bury myself inside of you again,” he groans out, clearly thinking about things that hopefully will happen.

“I love every single part of you, every single part of your body and every single part of your soul. I love it all. Do you know what my favourite thing is?” Nils asks, his eyes locked on yours. You shake your head, while Nils moves his hand towards your chest, putting his palm over your heart. “This. This is my favourite part of you, y/n. Your pure heart, full of love for everyone who deserves it, and maybe even for those who don’t deserve another second of your attention and time. Even though you’ve been hurt so many times, you still love with everything you have, unconditionally. It’s my favourite part of you, because you decided to love me.”

Your chest tightens at all the sweet words Nils tells you, all his love for you showing over and over again. You try to tell him you feel the exact same way, but the words won’t come out of your mouth. Instead you grab the back of his head, slamming your lips on his, hopefully showing him that you love and appreciate him just as much.

Nils groans against your lips, pushing his body further into you. You grind your hips against him, feeling his erection against your core. Nils licks across your bottom lip, softly asking you to open up for him. You comply, your tongue meeting his, swirling and twisting around the other. There’s no battle, no fight for dominance, it’s just simply you and him.

Nils’s eyes find yours, he does this every time you end up in bed, or anywhere else for that matter, every time he needs the reassurance and permission that it’s okay, that he can continue with his plans. It’s such a turn on and he doesn’t even know it. ��Can I?” he asks you softly, playing with the hem of your sweater.

“You can,” you confirm, smiling softly at him.

His hands immediately grip the hem of your sweater, tugging it over your head, leaving you in just your panties. His eyes rake over your barely clad body. “I’m going to show you just how gorgeous you are, baby,” he whispers against your lips.

He claims your lips once more, his hand finding your breast. You moan into the kiss when his fingers close around your nipple, rolling the taut bud between them. Your hand moves down to Nils’s erection, but he swats your hand away. You raise your eyebrow in question at him, while he softly chuckles at you. “No, baby. This is all for you,” he says, his head lowering towards your neck. “and maybe a little bit for me as well.”

Nils gently sucks on the skin of your throat, making his way down your body. He makes sure he doesn’t skip any part of you, pampering every single inch of your skin with love and affection. His earlier sweet words, his loving way of caressing your body, drives you insane with need. Need for Nils, need to have him inside of you, need to feel him everywhere.

Your hand grips his hair when his mouth closes around one of your nipples, sucking the bud into his mouth. “Oh god, Nils,” you moan, the sensation moving through your body like lightning. While Nils gives your breasts the attention they deserve with his mouth and hand, he slowly pulls down your panties with his other hand.

His fingers find your dripping core, his thumb circling your clit. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me,” Nils groans out against your chest. You cry out as soon as he pushes two fingers inside of you, engulfing himself in your familiar warmth. Nils moves further down your body, while continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

His lips close around your clit, sucking the soft bundle of nerves into his mouth. You moan out at the sensation, gripping Nils’s hair tightly between your fingers. “Nils, please,” you beg him, not even sure what you’re exactly begging for. At this point it could be anything. You look down at Nils, his face buried between your legs. His eyes locked on yours as he eats your pussy like it’s his last meal.

You pull at his hair, trying to get his attention. “What do you need, y/n?” he asks you, before continuing his torturous ways.

“I need you, Nils,” you mumble, so far lost in the pleasure Nils gives you.

You can feel him smirk against your core. “Soon, baby. First I need you to come for me, okay?” he asks, even though you know it isn’t a question at all. You nod your head, so desperately for some kind of release.

It’s the way Nils murmurs soft praises and dirty words that send you falling over the edge. You come all over his fingers, his mouth, his name falling off your lips like it’s the only thing on your mind.

Nils watches the way you orgasm, he’s sure the blissful look on your face is his favourite part of making you come. The way all your stress, worries, doubts leave your body, he’ll make you come another thousand times if he could, just to see that look on your face over, and over. The way you clamp down on his fingers has his cock throbbing in his boxers. He can’t wait to feel you wrapped around him, to bury himself inside of you again, and again, and again.

He keeps his eyes on yours as he pulls back, fingers slipping out of you. Your mouth falls open as he slips his fingers into his mouth, licking them clean. The wicked glint in his eyes tells you he isn’t finished yet. “You taste so good, y/n,” he says, before leaning forward, capturing your lips with his. You can taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, everywhere. The experience so intimate, so raw.

Nils breaks the kiss, moving back to sit on his knees. His hand moves over his stomach, slipping underneath the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down enough to free himself from his confinements. His fist closes around his rock-hard erection, thumb spreading the already leaking precum over his tip.

He crawls back between your legs, opening you up wider for him. He braces himself on one arm beside your head, trying to keep his weight off you. His other hand grabs one of your legs, hooking it around his hip. You gasp at the sudden contact of his cock on your core. Nils smirks at your reaction as gently guides his cock between your folds, slowly pushing inside of you.

Inch by inch he slides inside of you, always watching for signs to see if you aren’t comfortable, if you aren’t ready for more. The moment he’s fully buried inside of you, he releases the breath he’d been holding in. “You okay?” he asks softly. You nod your head, pulling his face closer to yours. You press your lips on his, while Nils slowly starts moving inside of you.

Nils keeps his pace slow, deep, embracing every second he can spend with you like this. Connected, lost in each other, it’s never been better than right now. He can’t take his eyes off you, every single moan, every single sigh that leaves your mouth spurs him on to keep things slow, and intimate, relishing every single second spent inside of you. “I’ve never felt more alive, more at home than like this, y/n. Never,” he rasps out.

You wrap both your legs around his waist, allowing Nils to slide even deeper inside of you. He moans out at the feeling, sending chills all over your body. There’s just something about Nils moaning that turns you on more, and more. “You’re my home, Nils,” you tell him, nails digging into his back.

His slow, deliberated motions show you everything words can’t explain. This, the way he makes love to you, means more to you than words ever could. The connection between the two of you goes further than anything you ever felt before, it’s out of this world, absolutely astonishing. This goes further than love, further than lust, further than desire, it’s everything.

Nils brings you closer, and closer towards your orgasm, his thrusts deep, his words soft, sweet, and dirty, the perfect mix. His arm around one of your legs, keeping you even closer to him. You close your eyes, breathing turning erratic. Nils claims your lips once more, swallowing your scream of pleasure, when you finally shatter around him. Never, never felt an orgasm like this, your mind completely mush, while your body feels like it’s on fire. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull, nails digging into Nils’s back so hard, you probably broke skin.

Nils lets himself go as soon as you reach your high, his own orgasm ripping through his body. “Fuck, fuck, y/n,” he groans out, emptying himself inside of you. Nils collapses on top of you, head buried in the crook of your neck. Aftershocks still rock through his body due to probably one of the most intense orgasms he ever had.

Your hand softly brushes through his hair, a content sigh leaving Nils’s mouth. “You okay there, love?” you ask him softly.

A raspy chuckle leaves his throat, before he raises his head. “Fuck, yes. That was mind-blowing.”

Nils rolls of you, crawling out of bed. He makes his way over to the bathroom, giving you a perfect view of his even more perfect backside. Nils catches you staring at his ass, when he looks back to you over his shoulder. He laughs, sending you a wink, before walking into the bathroom. You smile to yourself, how did you get so lucky with him?

Seconds later Nils comes back out of the bathroom with a damp washcloth in his hand. You smile softly at him, when he gently cleans up the mess you both made between your legs. “Thank you, Nils,” you tell him, appreciating his help and care, not only now but always. He shakes his head at you, crawling back in bed beside you.

He pulls you on top of him, arms keeping you close to him. “You don’t have to thank me. I’ll always take care of you, baby, always,” he mumbles against your hair.

“I know, but still. Thank you for showing me I’m stronger than my insecurities, it means a lot,” you mumble against his chest.

Nils sighs, softly placing a kiss on top of your head. “I’ll show you day after day that there’s no one out there like you. You’re special, y/n. I’ll never let you forget that,” he simply tells you, making you smile some more.

You lay on his chest for a while, listening to his steady heartbeat, the soft rise and fall of his chest. Nils grabs your chin, turning your face towards his. He softly pecks your lips, just needing to feel them on his once more, he simply can’t get enough of you. “You have no idea how much I love you, y/n,” he whispers against your lips.

You grin at him, you’ll never get used to hearing those words come out of his mouth. “I do, I absolutely do. You show me how much you care, how much you love me every single day, today is no exception,” you tell him. “I love you, Nils. I love you more than I can tell you, more than I can show you, more than anything in this world.” Nils grins at your words, his strong arms wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

You giggle at his happiness, while Nils just pampers your face in more, and more kisses. “Stop it, you goof!” you laugh out loud, trying to wiggle out of his arms.

“Never, y/n! Never!” he laughs back at you.

It’s always like this between the two of you. You both love with everything you have, you cry together over stupid things, you fight and make up, but most of all you laugh. You laugh like it’s your final day on earth, like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. His smile makes your whole day, while your smile makes everything seem so simple to Nils.

If there’s one thing you’re absolutely sure of in this world, it’s that Nils loves you with every fibre in his body. He shows you day after day how much you mean to him, how much he loves you, and how much he appreciates you.

You know you’ll never let him go. You know he is the one, there’s no one else out there for you who can compete with Nils. You’re absolutely 100% sure Nils is your soulmate, your best friend, the one you want to grow old with, and you’ll spend every single second of every single day showing him exactly that.

[nowandajenn]

Can i ask for a fic wich chris and reader had a fight and broke up and chris really want to take her back but can't find her because she was mad and change her adress and number but he didn't give up and finally find her but also find out that she has their new born Triplet ?!

So I’m finally just now getting around to writing this, and I apologize for it taking so long to get done! I did decide to make it twins instead of triplets, because triplets is a fucking lot lol. I hope you still enjoy it!

Not proofread. All mistakes are my own. 

It had taken months to find you. After the break up, you had essentially become a ghost. You changed your phone number, you moved, and it seemed like nobody knew where you had gone, and the ones that did know sure as hell weren’t about to tell him how to find you. He had been a complete idiot; going to lunch with Jenny and spending time with her while he had a girl that he was slowly falling in love with waiting for him. They had such a strong history together though, and so many memories shared together, that he couldn’t seem to just walk away from it all. 

Of course, they had been snapped out at a restaurant together, talking and laughing, and it wasn’t long until the pictures hit the internet and your friends and family had been blowing up your phone, asking what the hell was going on. Your relationship with Chris was still fairly new, as you’d only been seeing each other for about eight months or so, and you were trying to enjoy just being with Chris and being happy while also worrying that you were a rebound for him after he and his ex had broken up a second time.

Chris had come home later that evening with flowers for you, only to find you going around the house packing up all of the stuff that you had kept there. He had recently been bringing up you moving in with him since you spent most of your time there anyway, but you felt like it was too soon, and you didn’t know if he was quite as ready for that step as he said he was. Now you were really glad that you had held off. 

The two of you had stood there and fought and argued, you telling him that you deserved more than to just be a rebound to try and help him get over the girl who he once claimed was “the love of his life” and you weren’t going to stick around if he was going to go behind your back and spend time with her and try and rekindle things for a third time. You told him that he was an idiot to think that the third time would be the charm when it hadn’t worked out the first two times they’d been together. He tried to explain that even though they had broken up, he still cared about her and just because they spent time together didn’t mean that they were getting back together. He told you that you absolutely were not a rebound, and he was falling in love with you, but you weren’t hearing it. You had picked up your duffel bag, and with a kiss to his cheek and hugging Dodger around the neck and stifling a small sob into his fur, you had walked out of his life. 

It didn’t take long to see what a huge idiot he had been, and how wrong he had been to see Jenny and not tell you about it or have any sort of conversation about it. He hated that you had been blindsided, and he hated that he made you feel like he was using you as a distraction or something to fill the void left after Jenny left. He tried to text you and call you, but all the texts were left on “delivered” and you would reject his calls, until one day he tried calling you and a stranger answered and told Chris that he had the wrong number. He finally psyched himself up enough to try and swing by your apartment to see if you would at least see him and let him try and apologize, but when he showed up, your apartment was empty and the landlord said that you had moved out and hadn’t left a forwarding address. He was heartbroken. He had tried talking to your friends, but they were unfailingly loyal to you, and wouldn’t tell him anything. 

It had taken just over seven months, and a lot of failed tries, but he finally had an address in his hand. It was in Chicago, where you had grown up, and he had booked the first flight that he could. He wasn’t sure if you would slam the door in his face or punch him or even open the door to him, but he had to try. If he didn’t, he knew he’d regret it. 

Chris takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, nerves suddenly overtaking him and making his stomach turn itself into knots. After a few seconds, he knocks again and hears a male voice yell “Coming!” His heart drops, immediately assuming that you had moved on from him and he lost his shot. 

The door swings open, and he’s surprised to see an older man, probably in his mid 50s, standing in the doorway. 

“Can I help you?” 

“Uh.....sorry, I think I have the wrong address. I was looking for y/n y/l/n. I’m Chris.” 

The man steps forward onto the porch, making Chris fall back a couple steps. 

“Oh, I know exactly who you are. You’re the one my daughter wouldn’t shut up about for a few months, and then never wanted to speak about again.”

Chris swallows hard, his mouth dry as the desert and feeling a little scared, because  your dad looks kind of mean and like he could lay him out if he wanted to. Your dad turns around and walks back into the house, slamming the door behind him. 

He exhales hard and turns around to walk back to his rental car. 

“That went about as well as I thought it would.” he mutters to himself. 

He’s halfway back to the car when he hears your front door open. He looks up and his breath catches when he sees you standing there, your arms crossed over your chest. You’re wearing a pair of jean shorts that show off your legs and a baggy Tshirt, your hair thrown up in a messy bun. You look like you’ve gained a little bit of weight since the last time he saw you, but it looks good on you. 

“Hey.” he breathes out. 

Your jaw clenches. “How did you find me?”

“Well, you didn’t make it easy. I had Josh track you down. It took a lot longer than I wanted it to. I would have been here about seven months ago if I had known where you were, but nobody would tell me.” 

You scoff. “Yet here you are. Because Chris Evans just doesn’t know when to give up.” 

He winces slightly, knowing that you’re not just referring to his search for you, but the whole thing with Jenny that caused your breakup. 

You both stand there in silence for a few minutes, unsure what to do next, when you breathe out a heavy sigh and wave your arm towards the house, gesturing for him to come in. 

“Come on. We have a lot to talk about.” you tell him.

Your dad shoots him a glare as you lead him into the house, and he swallows hard and follows you into the kitchen, taking your offer of a bottle of water and sitting at the table with you. He’s so focused on you that he doesn’t really take in his surroundings. If he did, what comes out of your mouth wouldn’t have almost shocked him into a heart attack. 

“I tried calling you a couple times over the past few months, but every time I did, I got your assistant, or a P.A. or someone else. I left a message with my number with someone, but I’m assuming that you never got it, or you just didn’t care.”

He shakes his head almost violently. “I never got it. I don’t know who you gave it to, but it never got back to me.” 

You lean back in your chair and take a deep breath. 

“About a month after we broke up, I found out I was pregnant.”

Chris is pretty sure his heart stops beating for a few seconds, and then he realizes that he’s holding his breath. He lets it out in a deep exhale and his heart starts hammering in his rib cage. 

“You.....we.......what?” he gasps.  

“The doctor said I was 7 or 8 weeks at the time. I......I was due to get another shot but I had been so busy that I forgot about it, and.....well. At first, I wasn’t sure I was even going to keep the baby, honestly. We had just broken up and I didn’t know if you even wanted kids right now, or with me, and it took me a while to come to terms with everything. I tried calling you once I decided that I was going to keep it. I knew you had a right to know, even though I was pissed at you and hurt.”

I look over and Chris is just staring at me, gaping like a fish. 

“So....you had a.....we have a.....” he takes a deep breath. “We have a baby?”

“Uh, well......I guess you must have some really strong sperm because we kind of.....have two.” 

Chris looks like he’s about to pass out, and I shove his bottle of water towards him and he drains the rest of it in one go. 

“Look, I don’t need anything from you. We’ll be okay. We’ve been staying here with my dad and he’s been helping out, and I’m getting help from the state. We never talked about having kids, and I know that this is just being dropped on you out of nowhere. If you want a paternity test, we can go today if you want. I’m not trying to trap you into anything or trick you. You have your own life and you’re.....well, you’re you. And I’m nobody. Nobody outside of your family and close friends even knew we were together.”

I know I’m rambling, but I’m nervous and I know I should just stop and let things sink in. We sit there in silence for a while, and I can tell that Chris’ brain is working to try and digest all of the new information and the fact that he’s a father twice over now. I need to do something to keep myself busy, because I can’t keep just sitting there in silence, so I go over to the sink and start washing dishes. 

Chris gets snapped out of his reverie when he hears a sharp cry ring out. He looks around wildly before realizing that it’s coming from a baby monitor on the kitchen counter. You drop the dish your holding in the soapy water and wipe your hands on a dish towel before turning and running upstairs. 

Chris isn’t even really sure he realizes that his feet are even moving before he finds himself upstairs in the doorway of the nursery. He stands there, feeling like his head is disconnected from the rest of his body, watching as you lean over the crib and lift out an impossibly tiny baby who can’t be more than a month old. 

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re okay.” you whisper, holding the baby against your chest. You turn around and see Chris standing there in the doorway, still looking shocked out of his skin. 

“Come here.” you say softly, beckoning him over. 

He walks over to the crib slowly, his eyes on the infant in your arms and then on the one still sleeping. 

“This is Steven Lucas Evans” you say softly, kissing the baby you’re holding on the forehead, “and that is Christopher Michael Evans.” 

Tears immediately fill his eyes and he inhales deeply, his breath stuttering. 

“How old are they?” 

“Three weeks and two days.” you tell him. 

Chris can’t keep his eyes from drifting in between his two sons, and not wanting to be left out, his namesake wakes up and starts making soft little noises. 

“Go ahead. Pick him up.” you tell him softly. 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

You nod. 

Chris leans over the crib and gently lifts Christopher out, holding him gently against his chest. He’s soft and perfect and has that amazing baby smell that drives people nuts, and Chris feels like his heart is about to explode. He walks a few steps over to you and gazes down at his other son, taking note of both babies’ bright blue eyes. 

“How can you love someone so much you’ve just met?” he breathes. 

You give a small, watery laugh. “I ask myself that every day.” 

Watching Chris with his baby sons is everything you didn’t know you needed. You told yourself that even if Chris didn’t want to be involved, you would get through it and you would be fine. But seeing him sitting in the cushy armchair in the nursery with a baby in each arm is more than you could have hoped for. 

“Tell me about when they were born.” Chris pleads. 

“I went into labor on the 23rd of last month, but they weren’t born until about 6pm the next night. I was in labor for about 20 hours. The doctor wanted to go in and get them, but I knew they’d come on their own time. Christopher was born first, and then 15 minutes later, Stevie showed up. He was screaming before he was even fully out.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. I wish I could have seen it.” 

“You still can.” 

You pull up a few videos on your phone from different stages of your labor, and one of Christopher being born and then Steven coming along. Tears are running down Chris’ face as he watches, and he’s laughing and crying at the same time, completely overwhelmed with emotion. You flip through a ton of pictures on your phone of you through the pregnancy, and then of labor, and the first pictures of you and the babies. 

“Can you sent these to me? Just....everything you have?” he asks. 

“Yeah. Not a problem.” 

After making bottles and feeding one while Chris feeds the other, a double diaper change, and laying them back down in the crib, you both sit back down. 

“You didn’t get two cribs?” Chris asks. 

“No. I couldn’t really afford two, and when we were in the hospital, they would cry if they weren’t near each other, so the nurses just put them both in the same bassinet and they would calm down. So it all worked out.” I tell him. 

“Come back to Massachusetts with me.” he blurts out. 

He says it so suddenly and with such conviction that I’m speechless for a minute. 

“Chris.....” 

“No, just please.....I love you. I love you and I was an idiot and you had every right to leave me. But being without you has been hell, and I don’t want to be without you. And I can’t go back and not have you or them there with me. I want to be there for everything. I want to see everything. I won’t let you do everything on your own. You don’t have to struggle and get state aid. You can move in with me, or I can get you an apartment close by........just......please come home with me.” 

“Chris, slow down. Listen, you’re their father. You can have as much access to them as you want. I’m not going to take them away from you or keep you from seeing them. That’s the last thing I want. But moving back to Boston......I don’t even have a job right now. I’ve been doing freelance articles for the last few months to get by. And we have all this stuff....and there’s furniture and......” 

“You can write from anywhere. You’re so talented; you’ll find a job in no time. I promise. Until then, I can take care of you guys. That’s my job now. As for all the stuff, I can get a UHaul trailer and we can drive back. Or I’ll get a moving company to move it and we can fly back. It doesn’t matter. We can make this work.” 

I can see the desperation in his eyes and how badly he wants this, and it’s enough to break my heart, and I don’t have it in me to tell him no. 

I sigh heavily. “We have a lot to work out and talk about.....but I don’t want you to miss out on anything with the boys. So.......I guess we’re taking a road trip.....with two infants........halfway across the country.” 

Chris grabs me and hugs me to him tightly. 

“It’ll be our first family vacation. I can’t wait for Mom to meet them. She’s going to lose her mind over them. And you.....she’s missed you so much. You have no idea the verbal ass kicking I got from her after you left.”

You smile. “Glad to know that a grown man is still afraid of his mommy.” 

 The Usual Suspects: @averyrogers83 @wordywarriorwrites @imanuglywombat @joannaliceevans-fanficblog @hlkwrites @reminiscingrogers @mom—nicole @jtargaryen18 @alexakeyloveloki @kelbabyblue @sarahp879 @moonlessnight14 @mojean13 @mrskokitztelford @artisticrogers1972 @southerngracela @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan @mybesttobobcratchit @gracethegeek9902 @mdemontespan1667 @marvelfansworld @capslut2014 @dispatchvampire @jamielea81 @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ @southerngracela​ @what-is-your-plan-today @letsdisneythings​ @theladybiers @lexeeehhh @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ @autumnrose40 @donutloverxo​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @jessaywahh-blog​@smediumsmeatbae @before-we-get-started​ @lizette50 @littlegasps @rageshots @what-is-your-backupplan-today @clairebubbles @patzammit @sweet--catrastophe @pandaxnienke @redhairedfeistynerd @hails270105 @syms-things-5 @chezdricks @denisemarieangelina @christ0pher-evans @supersquirrel1996

[scientia-rex]

Reporting back on this whole "how is life as a new attending" thing: well, the good news is I have money and a lot more time. The bad news is I'm still me.

So we're buying a house--it's taking forever but it's also a really great house that's not like a mansion-mansion but is light-years beyond what anyone else I know my age who isn't a doctor or the child of rich people can afford--and I'm really, really excited about it. But I'm also still depressed, on an SNRI for it, getting godawful night sweats because of the SNRI for it, and prone to severe acid reflux and chronic nausea. Also, there's a random spot in my right lower quadrant that occasionally hurts like hell for no apparent reason and deep down I'm terrified that it's my appendix thinking about getting real infected and rupturing, or an ovarian cyst that starts to torse and then de-torse, or an endometriosis explant that's going to finally burrow all the way into my intestines one of these days and give me, I dunno, sepsis or a hemorrhage or something. Any one of those could spontaneously become a life-threatening surgical emergency with no warning. So yes, I still have anxiety.

I have started to resume something resembling a normal human sleep schedule. I only took a week (technically just under a week) off after graduating from residency. I'd already passed the boards so as soon as residency was officially over and my program director submitted the final things I was board-certified. Which is fucking bananas! I'm still me! I'm still just a weird chump with frizzy hair, two to three chins at any given time and slowly developing jowls, a mustache and over the last couple of years a beard I savagely beat into submission with my favorite tweezers every fucking day, the short-term memory of a goldfish, zero ability to remember anyone's face or name but a near-godlike recall for bit-part actors in television shows based on just a few seconds of hearing their voice, a long-term obsession with Sherlock Holmes since the 4th grade back in the early 90s long before Moffat put his greasy mitts all over them, and some weird kinks I literally never talk about because I don't want to. I am such a peculiar, obsessive, hoarding, strident freak! And now I'm a board-certified physician. Jesus Christ. The only thing worse than knowing that I'm a doctor is knowing that my classmates are doctors. Not the ones from residency, they're all cool, but the ones from my actual medical school. You know! The ones who accidentally boned the same woman on an away rotation they did sequentially and then made homophobic jokes about sloppy seconds! Those ones! The ones who wore shirts with boner jokes on them to class while being devout Mormons who thought women belonged in the kitchen! The one who said awful things about Tamir Rice and then said he couldn't be racist because his nephew was black! THOSE ASSHOLES! THEY'RE PROBABLY ALSO DOCTORS NOW! I don't know for sure because I'm not friends with any of them on Facebook because they're horrible assholes and I called them all homophobic and racist and sexist to their fucking faces, but DON'T TRUST DOCTORS UNTIL OR UNLESS THEY SHOW YOU A REASON TO.

Anyway, I've been finding some solace in obsessively looking at different things I might get for our house. We're closing soon, thank God, but the current owners wanted to stay until the end of August because they're building a new house and it won't be done until then (and do I believe it will actually be done then? No.) and we wanted to be very attractive buyers in this godforsaken housing market where you have to bring an elephant's weight in gold and several wine bottles of your own blood to even get a chance, so we said sure, so we're still a month and a half from moving in. UGH. It's worth it, but it's giving me all the anxiety. I feel paralyzed, because I can't do shit about most of the planning and decorating until I'm actually in the space. And somehow I can't do any of my other hobbies, either. I can't write. I can't bake. I've been getting stoned more often than usual, but I did that on Friday night and frankly it just annoyed me because I didn't enjoy losing the ability to string my thoughts together. Sometimes I'm really in the mood to get stoned and it feels lovely and freeing, and sometimes it's just an annoying hindrance.

And I can't drink because my acid reflux is so bad right now. I doubled up on the omeprazole, which I never tell patients to do, and it did help some, but I'm still always one acidic beverage away from feeling like I'm going to die. I threw up a couple of months ago and I honestly think it was from just having too much acid in my stomach for my body to cope with. So naturally I'm worried I've got one of those crazy tumors, starts with a Z, Zollingers? that tells your stomach to make acid. Do I? Almost certainly not! Will that stop me from worrying about it? Boy howdy, no!

However, I have had some really nice moments. Last week I had a patient who had a history of migratory polyarthralgias. He'd never been definitively diagnosed, though he'd been tentatively diagnosed with gout based on presentation and placed on allopurinol. He was sitting in my office with a huge, swollen, painful knee, and I thought, well fuck it he needs a knee aspiration. Have I done one of those before? No! But I've put enough corticosteroids and hyaluronic acid into knees that I figured I had a good shot at getting something out, and it wasn't pretty but I did it. I got a good sample of knee juice all by myself. It felt great. For me. The patient was in a substantial amount of pain. However, it did give us a definitive diagnosis--birefringent monodium urate crystals! That's gout, baby! Sure, it presented a little weird, but because I stuck a big-ass needle into his knee now we know for sure and I wrote him for colchicine, which somehow no one else had???? despite the diagnosis of gout on his chart???????

I haven't really felt completely at sea much at all these first couple weeks of being an attending. I have an MA who is a sweet ray of sunshine and she is very determined to do a good job, and we get along well. I'm slowly settling in. I feel more and more like a real doctor and less like some crazed impostor wearing a doctor suit every day.

There's bad stuff, plenty of it, but overall I'm feeling pretty lucky. Mostly. Except for how today I had a bunch of caffeine and dairy, so my stomach is telling me that this was a Mistake. But! In counterpoint, the Baskin-Robbins Flavor of the Month was really delicious, and I regret very little. Not nothing, but very little.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Four | Nyeh Heh Heh! (Part 2 of 2)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

There's a time and place for everything, but not now.

You remind yourself of that and quite bluntly suck it up. 

All weaknesses are forced back down and corked shut, establishing a path for you to finish what you started. You went all the way out of the city just to meet up with Papyrus, and you were here to bring some sort of closure as to how you could approach him after concluding with your first meeting. Still, that's no excuse for you to be rude or break any of your hospitality rules, so you smile at the skeleton and thank him for the letter, it's contents you assume’s money judging by how thick and heavy the envelope is.

"This means a lot, but… Are you sure it's okay for me to accept this?"

"Of course it is! Alphys would be glad to fix your phone and even upgrade it for you!"

Now that makes more sense.

But that still doesn't explain why it's that thick and heavy. Whatever contents there are inside it remain a mystery as you wonder how that's possible and why it's even necessary to carry in an envelope what you assume is simply Alphys's contact information. Nonetheless, you store it away with the rest of your belongings and continue on walking until you make it out of the mall.

"I apologize for not, well… doing what we were meant to do today, but thank you for understanding," you say, keeping up with his pace.

"Of course. Communication is key, (miss/mister)!" He smiles back at you and slows down to a full halt when you both make it to the bus stop. "We can discuss all these matters later on, but wouldn't it be better for you to get a check up with your doctor first?" He almost seems to realize something’s off with his question and adds, "Not that your appearance is unpleasant, but that you simply do not look as healthy as the pictures Frisk showed me of you! You look... rather fatigued, if I’m to be honest."

"I'll…" You trail off when you notice you're beginning to compare both Papyrus and his brother's actions with Jerry's.

Jerry didn't notice how different you looked back at your meeting with Sans; rather, he only noticed you were with someone new, and nothing else.

He didn't demonstrate the same level of insight as Sans did.

And he didn't show as much concern as Papyrus did, either.

Jerry didn't-

"I'll keep that in mind." You shove all that aside and step inside the bus, Papyrus following after you. It's jam packed, so you're led to hold onto the nearest hand railing before it takes off.

While you wait for an opening to continue talking with him, more thoughts return to your mind, these about last week and how Jerry wouldn’t stop texting you information about the monsters no matter how much you ignored it all. The only messages you’d opened were the ones about who Sans was, and -- considering in what state that left both you and your phone screen in -- you’ve now established it upon yourself to not look at any other message Jerry's sent. If he wanted to warn you and Frisk about anything else, then he had to gather the wits to apologize for ditching his child for so long and actually reveal some sort of positive change in him.

Hell. When was the last time you saw him -- last December, maybe?

You let all those frustrations out through a huff and loosen your grip on the railing when you notice you've become too carried away with your thoughts. There's no reason for you to be thinking about him anymore. You were over Jerry’s bull crap a long, long time ago, and having him text you again after almost a whole year of complete and utter silence from his part couldn't possibly be enough for you to begin thinking about him again.

"I forgot to mention there's another thing from Sans inside that envelope," Papyrus says, serving as a necessary distraction from your overthinking mind. "He thinks it's useful for what you will be dealing with soon, now that you've made it your goal to learn more about Frisk's monster friends." The doors hiss as the first stop arrives. People begin to stand up and exit, leaving a few seats empty for both you and your companion, as well as those who were also left to stand and hold on. “How was your meeting with him, by the way?” 

“It was fine,” you reply, assessing his question and the change of tone that goes along with it. His once amiable tone changes for curiosity, almost as if he’d no prior knowledge of how your meeting with his brother went despite having proven the contrary back at the food court. It's sudden but subtle, though as much as you try to understand what it's caused by, you come out short of possibilities. “And he was nice. I wanted to pay for at least my part of the lunch we had, but he covered for it… And now you did the same today, too.” You chuckle at that thought and look up at the monster with a smile. “You’re both just as hospitable, I’d say.”

He sighs, a sound marked by relief. His face shows that same emotion based on how his gaze loosens up and how contentment returns to his expression, once clouded by that earlier one caught with his change in tone, still unknown to you. “It is not my intent to persuade you into anything, but… I was hoping you would both get along better. At first, it was for how worried I was that he would not adjust well to the Surface, but it looks like you could both benefit off getting along with each other!”

It becomes clearer now as to what his intentions are.

He was worried as any caring sibling would be for the other sibling’s well-being. It made sense despite how outgoing both skeletons appeared to be. The elder one looked to be the type to keep to himself more based on the sole, first impression you had of him. He knew when and where to joke around, he knew how to strike up a conversation, and he was thoughtful to a noticeable extent, but all that still didn’t cover up how he approached certain topics with you, even if he was still barely acquainted to you. Even if he was honest and even if he’d been earnest enough to confess his faults to you right on your first meeting, there remained something about him that told he was still keeping certain feelings to himself, such as that of a different weakness found beyond his mistakes. Papyrus showed that quality plenty both in subtle and blatant ways, such as when he admitted when he felt that he’d failed his friendship with Frisk and how he cried when talking with you earlier ago. Sans, on the other hand, didn’t quite reveal having any emotional bond in him when talking about how he’d failed his promise and Frisk in the process. Not that it meant that he didn’t feel any repentance over his actions, but that he simply seemed to take his job as a judge for the Underground into his real-life relationships -- using that mindset even outside the Judgment Hall. 

But, of course, you hardly knew him, so that could just be you overthinking the weight and significance of the situation and misinterpreting what could be a hint of introversion in the monster when compared with his younger brother.

Over-analysis aside, you consider yet another perspective regarding what Papyrus meant when he said he hoped for you and Sans to get along.

Was it really possible he meant that as simply friendship?

Or was he throwing subtle remarks about a possible set up?

“Do you…” A mild sense of guilt overcomes you at the mere consideration of that possibility, though it doesn’t stop your stressed mind from doing what it wants. “As friends, you mean?”

Notwithstanding his seemingly innocent character, Papyrus’s gaze widens and he looks away for a split second, cheekbones burning red. “Yes,” he replies, followed by, “I apologize if that made you think a different way. I just want him to have new friends and open up some more! Though now that you mention it, he..." He trails off and frowns. "He is a bit different from most of our friends. He is almost the same age as Undyne and Alphys, and yet he still hasn’t dated anyone to this day! That, and he always rejects the advances he gets from a few people he knows from Grillby’s bar.”

“Maybe he’s aromantic or something similar?” you suggest, quirking a brow and smiling at the sight of Papyrus's flustered state. “That’s normal, if so. It could just mean he’s not interested in a romantic relationship and stuff like that.”

“But I’m still worried about him -- He’s just like this for making new friends, too! And he’s been acting strange since the Barrier broke.”

Your smile grows the further Papyrus talks, and it’s almost a challenge for you not to burst out a laugh; not in a mocking sort of sense, but for the sheer worry he expresses both through his words and body language. It’s almost as if your personalities have switched, making it now his turn to show his own set of stresses, but in a far more composed way compared to your previously anxious state. He sighs and places a hand over his forehead, expressing his troubled thoughts yet again through the rub of his temples. “If anything, I hope it’s that… And that he’s not keeping stuff to himself!” He looks at you with a small smile and adds, “Could you…” He hesitates, though he recovers with a breath in and a harrumph. “Could you ask him about that one day? I do not know much about these topics myself, but… In the meantime, I was hoping if…”

He trails off for a second time.

At that chance, you intervene, saying, “Sure.” You let out a laugh, a simple sound that seems to be sufficient for the skeleton to relax again. “You both paid for lunch, and you’re here with me after I said I needed to talk with you about the whole situation at the Underground, so…” You take a pause as your smile grows. “It’s only fair I try to pay some of that forward, don’t you think? I’m sure I can find a way to ask him without being blunt about it.”

Tears return to Papyrus’s eye sockets as sudden as thunder on a clear, sunny day. At that sight, you offer him a hug, one he accepts just as quickly. His arms squeeze you tight, similar to that of a child hugging their favourite stuffed animal after a fright, and he nearly sobs into your shoulder afterwards, the emergence of that action incrementing his grip on you. “You are too kind, (miss/mister)!” he exclaims, capturing the attention of the few passengers still remaining in the train. “I will make sure the rest of us you have left to meet are just as cooperative with you!”

You release a quiet gasp, in needful search for air when he lets you go, and chuckle when you see his gaze is as hopeful as someone with a lottery ticket. Were you both not sitting and still waiting for your stop, you would imagine he would’ve hugged you for longer or further showed his gratitude through a bow. “It’s alright,” you say, shaking your head. “Maybe I’m a little weak right now, but as soon as I go visit the doctor and get things cleared out, just say the word and I’ll do what I can to help you guys get settled up here.”

Papyrus sniffles into the third tissue you’ve offered him today and trembles after recovering. He then looks at you with a clearer gaze and a fonder smile, both of these enhanced by the late afternoon sunlight beginning to shine through the train’s large windows. “E- Even if you… consider some of us as enemies by the end of it?”

“It would all depend on how it goes, but…” You rub the back of your neck and allow a pensive frown to take over for a moment. “Based on what I know so far, I doubt I won’t be able to help out. Even if some of you hurt Frisk, I... I still have to acknowledge how much you offered and did for them after you learned they weren’t an enemy.”

His hopeful gaze almost drives into a pitfall and a trace of guilt flickers on his visage.

All other surroundings and people present besides the chair you sit on, his presence, and yourself shift to a sudden blur as you can only concentrate on that change, too abrupt for your liking.

“About that…” he speaks up, hesitating. “There’s something I believe neither Frisk nor any of us have told you about, and that is-”a

Your destined stop finally arrives, interrupting whatever closely-hidden confession the skeleton was about to direct at you.

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

[poliel]

Surprise Egg 13/13

Unfortunately, no matter how tired one was, waking up was an inevitable eventuality. If one didn’t die in their sleep anyway. So perhaps Buddy should be thankful to be waking up even it was to a strange beeping sound and… that distinct hospital smell.

With a groan they opened their eyes to see that… yep, they were in lying on a hospital bed in a hospital room. It certainly wasn’t their first time waking up in such a location but it was their first time waking up in one while attached to what seemed to be a full suite of life support and monitoring machines. Because that’s what the beeping sound was: a heart rate monitor. There was also an IV and other things they weren’t quite sure the purpose of. Ugh, they’d only just woken up here and they were already tired of it and wanted to go home.

They shifted their paws up to try to push themself up but… nope. Even just moving themself to attempt it hurt too much to be worth it and thus they didn’t even really try. If they had to they could force it but while their pain tolerance was high and level of stubbornness even higher, they didn’t have any desire to when there was nothing worthwhile that could be gained from it. And having discovered how far they could push their body before it quit on them they would rather not do so again, especially so soon.

Thankfully as was often the case in such scenarios, it wasn’t longer before a nurse found their way to their bedside. Buddy didn’t give them a chance to say anything before speaking themself. “What happened? How did I get here? And where are my friends?” The last thing they remembered was asking Eggabell if they could take a nap and her encouraging it. Clearly quite a bit had happened between now and then. “Oh and uh… how long was I out for?” That was always something one should when waking in such a location.

The nurse hesitated for a moment, looking down at their clipboard and then back up at Buddy. “You arrived here three days ago. According to your friends you were unconscious for at least two days prior, probably a bit longer. You got here on an airship your friends landed on our roof. They’re all now in their own rooms being observed and where applicable taken care for their own health issues.”

Feeling even more addled than they had back on the island, it took Buddy a few seconds to parse though the meaning of all that. If any of the Snaktoothers hadn’t made it off the island surely that would’ve been mentioned, right? Hard to say for sure but for now they were going to operate under that assumption and hopefully confirm it later.

First, their story. Given the whole snakification thing there was no way word of this event hadn’t gotten out already. How much had everyone already revealed about the bugsnax? Hopefully not much because it was their story to tell! … “May I borrow a phone please. I need to call my boss.”

That earned a heavy disapproving frown from the nurse. “You should be resting.”

“I know and I will but… it’s important.”

“No.”

“Well… can I talk to my friends then?” Surely they would help them contact Clumby and get this whole thing started. Filbo certainly would at least, right? Because he should know what this meant to them. “I also need my pack.” They couldn’t start properly writing their story without it.

“Later. First, since you’re finally awake, there’s some things we need to handle.”

Ugh, hospitals were the worst. But if they cooperated it’d be easier for everyone and should win them some points with the nurses that would hopefully help them later.

~

Buddy must’ve fallen asleep again at some point because they were waking up again despite not particularly wanting to. They had important stuff to do though so they blinked open their eyes.

“Buddy, you’re awake!” Seated by their bedside, Filbo took their paw gently between both of his. “How do you feel?”

“Eh, I’ve felt worse. But uh… better now that you’re here.” They winked at him, squeezing his paw a little as they tried to pretend like the monitor wasn’t betraying their heart rate going up slightly because Filbo was holding their paw and smiling at them. But it was really good to see him. Mostly anyway. He was still snakified and Buddy now knew what that meant and… it was their fault. They’d fed him parasites for months.

Before they could go any further down that rabbit hole of unpleasant thoughts though Filbo squeezed their paw slightly. “I’m so glad you’re finally awake. I was… worried.” His expression sorrowed for a bit before he was smiling at them again. “I brought your pack with your camera and stuff in it. I figured you might want it.” He really was the best, huh?

“Awesome. Thanks. And uh… you think you could get me a phone. I need to call my boss and tell her I’m working on the story.”

“Uh… I don’t think I’d be allowed to. And while you were unconscious, we had all decided that we were going to keep the bugsnax secret ‘cause they’re dangerous and stuff. But uh… we kind of failed at that already. To be fair I did land us on the roof of a big hospital in the middle of an important city. So a lot of people saw us all snakified and you still had Sprout in your pouch so… that was a thing we had to deal with. We didn’t tell anyone anything specific though. All the newspapers and stuff are just circulating rumors and stuff. So… the full story coming out is gonna be from you since you have more right to tell it than anyone else if it’s doomed to come out at all. You have to promise to take it easy and slow though or I won’t let you work on it at all.” He gave them the sternestlook Buddy had ever seen on his face before. It was certainly well deserved though so…

“Yeah, okay. I promise to be good.” And they kind of owed it to him to listen to him after all the times they hadn’t before leading this moment. Speaking of everything leading to this moment though… “Everyone made it off Snaktooth, right?” They still needed confirmation on that.

Filbo nodded. “Yeah. Everyone’s okay.”

“Good.” Knowing that made them feel better for sure. “Now uh… about writing my story?”

Filbo gave them another firm look. “Later, after you’ve rested a few more days, please.”

“Fair enough.”

~

Being bedridden was the worst. Especially since they weren’t allowed to start writing their story yet. The only thing that kept them sane was Filbo staying at their bedside pretty much as much as the nurses would let him.

They were allowed additional visitors too occasionally. Even Gramble was eventually allowed to leave his own room and come see them.

“I brought Sprout too,” was the first thing he said after they’d exchanged greetings with him and Wiggle.

“He’s still attached to it for somereason.” Wiggle didn’t even try to hide her disapproval over it as Gramble pulled Sprout’s buggy ball out of his pouch.

“One little bugsnax ain’t gonna hurt no one. And he rarely leaves the buggy ball so it’s fine. And he still follows the pointer so… he’s different, I think. Since I could never train any of the others no matter how hard I tried. Anyway, here he is.” He held him up for Buddy to see. “He’s only here because you were carrying him in your pouch for so long all of us forgot about him so I figured you might want to see him.”

Buddy lifted a paw in a gesture for Gramble to hand the buggy ball over. He did so without complaint or hesitation. They placed it on their middle, holding it in place with a paw on top, as they peered inside. Sprout was just hanging out inside, looking around and doing a whole bunch of not looking the least bit like how one would think a parasite should look. He was far too cute, especially when he went nuts for the laser pointer. … People kept potentially dangerous pets all the time, right? One just needed to know how to handle them safely and properly and it was fine. So… they looked back up at Gramble “Can I keep him? … Or uh, I know you’re still…”

“Sure. Just as long as you let me see him lots too, okay?”

“Of course.” Permission granted, Buddy carefully pushed the buggy ball into their pouch. Immediately they felt strangely a little better, less antsy.

Wiggle scoffed lightheartedly. “Seems like the paternal instinct that would’ve normally gone towards the egg went to Sprout instead. I guess if it makes you happy though, I can’t tell you that’s wrong.”

“He’s a whole lot easier to take care of than an egg though.”

“Not really,” Gramble said. “With an egg all you got to do is keep it warm.”

“Until it hatches and then you have a grumpling you have to take care of and keep alive somehow. So, no thanks. I can barely even keep myself alive.”

“Well,” Wiggle said, giving them a meaningful look, “I don’t think anyone can argue with that.”

~

They were finallyallowed to start working on their article once a week had gone by and they were doing better. The temptation to push to finish it as fast as possible was there but… they were too tired to really go for it. Not that Filbo would’ve even let them. They lacked the strength to defy him or even try to argue.

Despite everything though they were still good at their job and thus they got it done fairly quickly. After going over it one last time for mistakes or any important details they’d forgotten, they were able to send it Clumby’s way.

Being done with it was a massiveweight off their shoulders. “It’s done! I’m done! I never have to think about Snaktooth again.” They were finally done with that cursed island and never again would they need to think about it. … They would though for sure, it and the unknowing harm they’d caused their friends and Filbo would undoubtedly haunt them. But for now, they were happy to be done with the telling of the tale.

“Congrats!” Filbo said from their bedside.

“Thanks.” They wanted to thank him for everything, helping them and being so awesome but… they were too tired to come up with the words. So their simple ‘thanks’ would have to do for now.

[twdbegins]

Gone From You

__

Simon x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language, smut.

A/N: I’m writing in third person nowwwwww. Changing it upppppp.

Word Count: 2,161

“You know I could never sleep without you.”

__

He cursed under his breath for the millionth time that day. Why couldn’t people just do as they were told? He felt like he was constantly having to clean up other people’s messes just to keep things from totally falling apart. He expected there to be mistakes and hiccups along the way. That was only natural. Lately, though, it seemed that EVERYONE was fucking EVERYTHING up. The ones who were never an issue and always did their work well were suddenly falling short and causing chaos. Simon wasn’t trying to be the kind of guy that wanted to do everything on his own because he felt like he was the only one competent enough to do it. But sometimes it was easier to do things himself to assure they would get done right. He had been running himself busy to the bone, because he really cared about this place and wanted it to thrive. 

She didn’t like watching him do this to himself. He was totally overwhelming and overworking himself to the point where he was tired in all aspects. He was a hard worker for sure and she respected that about him. She would never discourage his work ethic, but what he was doing wasn’t healthy at all. He needed a break and needed to take time to think about better ways to do his job. However, she realized that getting this through his head would be a challenge. He straggled into his room late one night, already pissed off and not really in the mood to talk about work.

She wouldn’t have brought it up if she had realized just how upset he was. But like the efficiently sneaky guy he was, he didn’t exactly make his frustration obvious to her. She mentioned it calmly and sweetly, but didn’t get the response she expected;

“Simon,” She called; “I’m not sure that the way you’re handling these things is right.”

He yanked his boots off and angrily tossed them into the corner of the room. He scoffed and shook his head incredulously;

“Oh, great. Now my girlfriend is telling me how to do my job too.” He sneered.

Her eyes widened slightly at that. That wasn’t what she was trying to do. She didn’t want to aggravate him any further, but he needed to hear what she was saying;

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m really worried about you,” She confessed; “You’re running yourself dry and I just don’t want to see you completely stress yourself out.”

The tips of his ears went red as his blood pressure continued to rise. He felt like everybody was against him and that he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He wasn’t angry at her. She knew this, which is how she kept her patience. He desperately needed to talk about his feelings, but he didn’t know how to. He was only taking his anger out on her because she was there.

“Maybe I should worry about myself then, yeah?” He growled.

She tried her best not to take it personally. He needed time to process everything and cool off. That didn’t make his demeanor and words hurt any less. She went quiet for the time being. She knew better than to say anything else. He slid into bed shortly after, a deep sigh escaping his chest. He rested one of his arms over his eyes to keep any remaining light from irritating his sudden headache any more.

He knew deep down that he wasn’t being right to her. She cared about him and wanted him to be happy. It wasn’t fair that he was taking his own problems out on her. Against her head’s wishes, she figured it would be best if he was alone tonight. She waited a few more moments before swinging her feet over the side of the bed. She changed back into her clothes that she had been wearing earlier. He heard her soft racket and removed his arm to look at her;

“Where are you going?” He asked, a little less harshly than before.

She looked back to him, keeping her same soft tone;

“I’m, uh, going to go check on some stuff in the infirmary,” She said pushing her feet into her boots; “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

He felt guilty suddenly. He didn’t mean to push her away the way he had been the last month or so. She was the last person he wanted to be on bad terms with. He sat up quickly and called for her;

“[Y/N], wait. I’m-” 

She was already out the door and on her way down the hall by the time he had a chance to get a sentence out. Another deep sigh sounded from his lungs, but for a different reason. He wasn’t being fair to her. He suddenly realized how his selfishness and pent up frustration was affecting the ones closest to him. He was always so quick to take it out on those around him. He considered it a fatal flaw of sorts. He didn’t waste much time before getting out of bed again and also re-dressing himself. He wasn’t going to let this go on. He owed her an apology and an explanation.

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he walked down the desolate hallway. It was still and quiet during the late night hours, something he hadn’t been accustomed to in the last several weeks. He thought of her as he continued to walk quietly around the Sanctuary to the infirmary. The way she cared for him at all times of the day and how she was always there for him even when he probably didn’t deserve him. She always sought out and focused on the more pleasurable things about him. Like here he was now, being an absolute jerk to her and she was still patient enough to understand that he wasn’t angry at her. 

He loved her to an extent that he could barely comprehend, which was another reason why he felt a guilt ridden pit in his stomach as he grew closer to where she was.

He saw her in the wheeled chair that she kept in the room, she spun herself glacially from side to side as her eyes scanned each line in the book she was reading. Her head rested in her hand, unbothered and unaware of him standing in the entranceway. He watched her for a moment or so before easily saying her name to get her attention. Her head snapped up and her gaze averted to him. Her eyes were full of surprise at the sight of her boyfriend who she had just left back in her bedroom just a few moments ago. She was sure he would’ve fallen asleep by now. She closed the cover of her book and kept her stare on him.

“Hey.” He said somewhat awkwardly.

“Hi,” She replied back; “I figured you’d be asleep by now.”

He shrugged, his signature grin appearing on his face;

“Come on now. You know me better than that,” He said entering the room fully, closing the door behind him; “You know I could never sleep without you.”

She returned a warm smile at his remark. He always said he slept better when he was with her. She stayed in her seat, trying to gauge his mood. She didn’t want to upset him further by crowding him. He leaned against the counter where she kept supplies in the cabinets above it, just a few feet from her. He wasn’t exactly sure of what to say, but he had to say something.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He apologized in his deep, low voice.

She felt a wave of warmth wash through her. It was a relief to hear him say those words. She knew he had a lot going on that didn’t have to do with her. Still, it was nice to confirm that he really wasn’t upset with her.

“It’s okay, Si. Don’t worry about it.” She said finally standing from her chair and walking over to him.

He shook his head;

“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t ever talk to you like that. You don’t deserve that.” He noted.

She wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him. 

“You’re a man under a lot of pressure right now. You can only take so much,” She assured him; “I understand that.”

“Pressure or not, it doesn’t make it right for me to push you away like that and then get angry when you reach out to me,” He explained; “I’ve missed you.”

She turned her head just slightly so her head was tilted as she continued to look up at him. Oh, that face she always made when she was listening closely to him made him weak in the knees. He kissed her forehead as he let his own arms drape around her. He had so missed holding her in these moments where it was just the two of them. Even if it had only been a month or so without her, when it came to love, it felt like an eternity. 

“You know I care about you, right?” He asked, letting his fingers gently drag across her head and massage her scalp.

She hummed in response;

“Yeah. Of course I do.” 

He smiled again and kept her body close to his;

“Good, because I don’t ever want you to forget that I do care about you and I love you endlessly. You’re not any part of the reason I’ve been stressed out lately.” He purred.

She told him that she loved him back between kisses, something she had definitely missed recently. His slow kisses traveled down her neck, the sound of her whimpers and soft gasps beginning to stimulate him. She sank down to her knees and before he knew it, her nimble fingers were unbuckling his belt the way she had done dozens of times before. His heart began to race and his breathing quickened at the feel of her hands pulling his boxers to the floor to pool around his feet. He sprung free and forth in front of her, a devious smirk forming on her face. Instinctively, his hand went to the back of her head and wrapped gingerly into her hair;

“Oh, baby. You don’t have to-” 

A throaty moan flowed from his chest as she cut him off by wrapping her lips around his tip. She pushed her head forward and drew it back slowly a few times, enough to get him riled up before releasing him for a moment;

“You really want to talk yourself out of this?” She coyly spoke.

He only shook his head with shallow breaths, his hand persuading her head back to his crotch. She took him into her mouth again, licking a solid stripe from the shaft to the tip before he pulled out and slammed back into her throat. He pulled her head back enough to where she could do as she pleased, but he had enough leeway to keep himself grounded. 

He pushed back in, hitting her reflex as he usually did, but she knew to swallow around him and push through it. She looked up at him and his head had fallen back against one of the cabinets. His soft groans and moans were all she needed to hear to know to continue her oral ministrations. He eventually looked down at her, his chest fluttering and his voice ringing out;

“You’re always so good. So pretty on your knees for me...” He breathed out.

She couldn’t help but let out her own moan at that, he continued to help to pull in and out of her mouth. He fucking loved her. Not just in moments like this, because she was so much more to him than a good blowjob giver. Although, she was that too. 

She knew he was close, the slight twitch that she felt was a sign of that. They knew each other’s signals and signs backwards and forwards. It wasn’t like this was their first time together. It surely wouldn’t be the last. 

“God...you’re such a good girl,” He gasped, almost crying out; “Fuck...”

She felt his release hit the back of her throat, his eyes rolling back for a few seconds as he came in her mouth. She grunted lightly at the sudden sensation, but swallowed all of him and leaned back on her heels and wiped at her slightly teary eyes and swollen lips. She gave him a second to recover, his hand softly gripping her arm to bring her up to him;

“Come here.” He pulled her to him once more, kissing her tenderly and passionately.

She giggled against him and he could feel a little bit of the tension had gone. He knew one thing for damn sure.

He wasn’t going to leave her like that ever again.

[blackqueerblog]

"I can’t wait to meet you, Steph. I’ve even bought you a gift!"As I minimised the WhatsApp conversation on my phone, I was filled with dread about what the next evening would bring. It was a couple of weeks before Christmas and I was going on my first date since the end of my last relationship, two years ago. To say I was extremely nervous was a severe understatement.

I’d been talking to Robert* for a couple of weeks via Bumble and then WhatsApp, and all seemed to be going well. Since the end of my last relationship, I’d been a bit wary of the opposite sex and had gone into every new dating app chat with a degree of scepticism (especially as I am plus-size – more on this later), however Robert seemed different. He was funny, very intelligent, open-minded and ambitious and more importantly, accepted and preferred the fact that I am plus-size.

It seems a bit silly to have to declare something as trivial as one's weight on an app, but due to how a large percentage of plus-size women are treated in the dating world, some of us choose to add a note about our weight to our profiles, almost as some kind of 'disclaimer'. It’s even worse when your weight intersects with something such as race or gender.

Date night with Robert finally came around and I was practically bursting into flames with excitement. We’d agreed to meet in Clapham in southwest London for a couple of drinks. I arrived at the venue early and tweeted a cute picture of myself, telling my followers that I was out on a first date. Robert arrived and the date began. We had a great time during the three or so hours we spent together – we laughed, we exchanged hilarious date-fail stories, we spoke about our families, likes and dislikes…just normal date stuff, you know? He’d even bought me a little ornament for my room as I’d told him I was still doing it up, which was sweet.

 At the end of the night, we kissed and he said he wanted to see me again.A week later, and hours of speaking on the phone and texting throughout the night, we decided that he’d come over to my flat and we’d watch a few shows while I cooked (I know, I know, rookie mistake; like I said, I’m a dating newbie). Obviously, one thing led to another and we ended up sleeping together.

That was the last time I heard from him.Cut to this week when I receive an email from a friend of his. Apparently, Robert had shown my blog to his friends for 'approval'. This friend tells me that in the interests of full transparency, he thought he should let me know that the reason I had not heard from Robert since our second date was because he had been dared to 'pull a fat chick' and – upon completing the dare – had won a sum of money his friends had pooled.

I felt sick. A wave of embarrassment and humiliation washed over me, and I went into my bathroom and cried. I had been terrified of meeting and talking to men for fear of them judging my appearance. As much as I know that I am an awesome person, I’m blindingly aware that the way I look is not what mainstream society considers to be 'beautiful', and that’s something I always have to think about and carry with me.

What should have been a lovely couple of dates – a bid to improve my confidence and self-esteem while tackling the shark-infested waters of dating – has turned into a teaching moment for me, and has definitely made me feel a lot more wary about dating in general and more importantly, trusting men.

Sadly, my story isn’t an isolated incident. We’ve all heard of sick pranks such as the 'pull a pig' game, which involves a group of men daring each other to hook up with the least attractive woman (in their eyes) in order to gain clout. There are tales as long as my arm from fellow plus-size women who have been duped or tricked in this way and frankly, a discussion needs to be had about it.

Dating as a plus-size woman, you see, is an exercise rooted more in patience and frustration than in romance. When you are not being ignored by prospective interests, you are either subjected to humiliation and abuse or you are fetishised for your weight. Either way, the abject failure to consider the feelings of the plus-size women in these situations is just another example of the ways in which we are not afforded the luxury of being treated as human beings. It highlights the lack of respect that some men have for women, particularly if they do not comply with social norms.

As plus-size women, we are not afforded the same humanity, care, love and respect as our thinner counterparts. This can force a monumental drop in confidence and either put us off dating for life or lead us to partake in more casual dating in an effort to prove our worth through sex.

Luckily (or maybe unluckily?) I had already deleted Robert’s number from my phone, after not hearing from him for a couple of weeks, so I have no way to contact and chastise him for what he did. I decided to ignore the friend’s email and used Twitter to tell my story, in the hope of opening up the conversation about the way plus-size women are treated. My aim was to raise awareness, and while I received some amazing, positive feedback, it also came with its share of trolling and horrible comments – almost all from men, who were either laughing at the situation or suggesting I change my appearance in order to be treated better next time.

I like to think that I’m confident enough and maybe numb enough to the whole experience and haven’t let it define me as a woman, but for those of us who are still on our journeys to finding self love and increasing our confidence, going through an experience where you are basically seen as an experiment can be battering.

Ultimately, what I’ve concluded is that men seem to undertake these 'pranks' as a way of gaining respect from their male friends at the expense of women’s feelings. Men, it’s time to stop being impressed by this toxic behaviour. It’s time to call it out, to hold each other accountable. Would you be as admiring if someone pulled a prank like this on a plus-size relative – on your sister, perhaps, or your cousin? Most of all, it’s time to start taking the emotions, perspectives and feelings of fat women seriously. Regardless of body shape, we all deserve to be treated with respect and basic common decency.

*Name has been changed

It's important to give such things more visibility. I think writing about it is a brave act. Stephanie is so beautiful & powerful! 💕💕💕💕💕

[escxpedes]

loopholes (cont.)

I literally can’t even begin to tell you how much everyone’s support meant to me on the last chapter. All your comments and tags were so sweet, it was seriously the highlight of my day. I’m sorry for the delay, I meant to get this out a couple of days ago, but I’ve come down with a bad cold. This part, while fun, was so hard to get right. Angus Macgyver is a genius, his mind goes a mile a minute, and I wanted to do my best to replicate that. This part is a little slow in getting to the Macriley stuff, but I wanted to show how much he really thinks about things. He’s such a complex character, that if I didn’t do him justice, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Also, there’s dialogue in this one! Sadly, Jack isn’t mentioned in this chapter, but he’s there in spirit. Clearly, we all love and miss him. I hope you guys enjoy, the last part will be out soon! x

~

loop·hole

noun | A loophole is an ambiguity or inadequacy in a system, such as a law or security, which can be used to circumvent or otherwise avoid the purpose, implied or explicitly stated, of the system

~

Riley finally moves into her new apartment, but struggles to adjust after the events of Codex and the realization of her feelings for Mac. When Mac finds her passed out over her keyboard after a late night of coding at Phoenix, he decides a talk is long overdue. Just some slightly angsty soft!macriley to help you cope with this season 5 hiatus.

~

of lips that i am yet to kiss (and eyes not met my own.)

It's highly unlikely that you'll find Mac walking down the halls of the Phoenix Foundation so late at night. Without the bustling energy of his coworkers fetching important documents or discussing the best way to break down one of the many mysteries the foundation deals with, the darkened hallways and quiet atmosphere can be unnerving.

Sure, he spends nearly every waking hour employed there, but he'd rather be outside the office in different countries, doing hands-on work and saving lives. When you work in his profession, It can be difficult to separate business and pleasure, but that only makes it more important—if only to conserve what mental health he has left. 

However, in the haste of putting together last-minute preparations for yet another meeting with the Department of Justice and trying to make it back to his house in time for something Desi whipped up, he managed to forget his cellphone.

It's funny, mainly because of how little the small device truly matters to Mac.

It only goes to show how insignificant material objects, or even human beings in general, are. The idea that something so meaningless can affect someone's life so much when, if they just looked past that obsession and considered its part in the profound scope of the universe, another perspective would take shape.

It's fascinating stuff, really.

There's a concept essential to understanding Japanese aesthetics, otherwise known as an ancient set of ideals important to Japanese society, called Yūgen. When applied in the right context, Yūgen underlines this deep awareness of the universe and the experiences we have within it. It's often the feeling interpreted when you gaze at the stars late at night or watch the sunset dip behind a hill.

Mac wouldn't think twice before breaking his phone, or rather, breaking the phone of his nearest friend, open for an obscure part that might make one of his many homemade devices come together. However, when he's the only person able to communicate the scientific specifications of an unheard-of-until-recently base plan for saving the planet, he's practically on call 24/7.

He remembers having it in the labs earlier that day when he stopped by before his meeting to remind Bozer to come by his house on Friday for the team's new weekly attempt in group-bonding.

After the betrayals that surfaced during the climax of taking down Codex, the team collectively decided to spend more time as a group in hopes of eliminating any lingering doubts. 

They used to hang out all the time before the government dismantled the Phoenix Foundation.

Mac still can't believe that, after everything they had been through, he allowed his friendships to dissipate over the year they had been separate.

Bozer is his childhood best friend, and Riley had become a solid foundation in his life. He didn't have anyone outside his team at Phoenix, and while he deeply cared for Desi, their first relationship was proof that too much time—and too little communication—with each other can do severe damage to one's sanity.

If Russ hadn't brought them back together, would they have tried to reconnect at some point?

Mac wants to say they would have but wouldn't blame them if they didn't; they all lost something they cared about, and each served as a constant reminder of it.

It would've been hard, but part of him feels like living without them is a lot harder.

When he manages to access the lab, flipping his shiny new I.D. card over his fingers and into its place in his wallet, his eyes scan the room. It's empty, which isn't unusual at this time, but years of military training have rewired his brain to notify him of threats, even if there aren't any.

Just like he thought it would be, the device sits untouched a few tables behind Bozer's workspace where Mac had been sitting.

Quickly, because he left the house in a hurry and forgot to leave a note, he scoops up his phone and makes his way towards the exit. There's a couple of missed calls, but it doesn't seem like he missed anything too important.

Not that they would let him. 

At any rate, they would probably show up on his doorstep if they couldn't get a hold of him. With days off so few and far between, that's the kind of interaction he's hoping to avoid. Hence, why he came to pick up his phone when he realized it was missing instead of waiting until the next day.

He's nearly made it to the end of the hall when a light flashes in his peripheral vision, coming from the I.T. department.

His body is tense with apprehension; his mind races with several different kinds of possibilities and outcomes. He slows his pace, his movements fluid, silent, and controlled from years of stealth practice.

The light is soft, he notices, as if only one or two monitors are in use.

When he gets to the doorway and nudges open the door, hands at the ready, his entire body sags in relief to see the dark wavy hair he's come to associate with one of his closest friends.

"Riles?"

The nickname falls from his mouth before he can stop it, and even though the light from the monitor creates a halo above her head, shadowing her features, it's unmistakably her.

She doesn't move. 

It becomes abundantly clear why as Mac moves towards her and notices the monitor's screen filling up with a sequence of letters that look nothing like coding despite his lack of knowledge in programming languages.

Her elbow balances precariously on the edge of the table, her arms creating a makeshift pillow for her head. The weight of her forearm bears down on the keyboard, causing the side of her hand to press down multiple keys at once.

He shakes his head a little, amused by the situation unfolding. 

Her cheek rests comfortably on her hand, a serene expression masking the signs of exhaustion that showed on her face.

Mac's lips curved into a soft smile, seeing Riley in any state that wasn't cloaked in layers of worry or anxious determination always washed away any doubts he might have about working in such a stressful field.

The scars that covered his body, the secrets he has to keep, and the pain he has to endure are so unbelievably worth it as long as she out of harm's way and able to sleep peacefully.

Of course, he couldn't imagine anyone else by his side on a mission, knowing they share the same love and passion for kicking ass and saving lives.

However, he also knows that more lies underneath the surface.

He wouldn't wish the hardships of this job on anyone. Seeing it affect someone he cares about, watching it break them down slowly pulls at his heartstrings and fills him with a knowing sadness. 

When a piece of hair falls into her face, his fingers don't hesitate to gently brush it behind her ear, lightly tracing her cheekbone and caressing her cheek.

Kneeling, his hand drops to her shoulder in an attempt to gently wake her.

After a couple of shakes, the expressive brown eyes he's come to look forward to seeing begin to flutter open and nearly render him speechless.

She blinks a couple of times, inhaling slowly, "Macgyver."

Her voice is full of sleep and breaks from misuse, but the way she says his name—like there's nobody else she'd expect to see when she wakes up —has him grinning from ear to ear.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Rising from her position on the table, she scans the room before meeting his eyes and scoffing, "It's hardly the morning."

He laughs softly, holding back the urge to mention that technically it is morning considering its past twelve. Instead, he focuses on the matter at hand, or more likely, the question at hand.

"What are you doing here so late?"

She's more alert now, sitting back in her chair and lifting her arms to stretch out the muscles that stiffened while she slept, glancing at her work on the monitor.

Her face drops into a grimace when she notices her mistake, "Matty and I were talking about updating the foundation's firewall and spyware," she yawns, "I must have been more tired than I realized."

Mac's eyebrows scrunch in thought, remembering something Bozer said earlier about Riley spending quite a few nights this week working late.

Between going over his mother's scientific data, trying to patch up whatever relationship he had left with Desi, and making sure he didn't go off the rails with grief, his effort to check in on everyone decreased significantly.

"Yeah, you've been doing that a lot lately," his hand returned to her shoulder to emphasize his point, "Everything okay?"

She waves him off, "There's too much work that needs to be done around here before we can get things running the way they used to."

Riley doesn't lie to him—if you overlook the whole situation with her ex, Aubrey, that is, but the movements she's making indicate otherwise.

Her eyes refuse to meet his, flickering down and to the right. When she talks, her head shakes lightly, and she purses her lips in an attempt to give off a careless impression. Maybe someone who doesn't know her or didn't train to pick up on it would believe her, but he knew better.

She was definitely hiding something from him.

Part of him understands that if she wanted to talk about it, she would. However, his instincts urge him to press harder, locate the problem, and bring back her contagious smile that always seems to fill him with warmth.

As much as he doesn't want to admit it, you can't patch some things together by sheer will and sellotape, so instead, he stands up and drops his hand from her shoulder.

"Let's get you home."

[jawritter]

Prank Gone Wrong

A/N: This was a private request from my sister. So you guys don’t crucify me upside down lol. This was originally posted on wattpad, and someone who wished to remain anon asked me to bring it over here. So be nice lol. As always all mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Hope you all enjoy this one. I was nervous about writing it. 

**Disclaimer!** This is a complete and total work of fiction. I don’t believe Jared would ever do something like this!! LOL Even though Misha may beg to differ..... 

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected smut, drugged!jensen, jared being an asswhole on accident. (kinda), language, exaggerated effects of a drug, hint at reader with body image issues (very brief), male masterbations (also brief). Shifting viewpoints. I think/hope that’s everything.

Pairing: Jensen x Jared, Jensen x reader, Dean x Cherry (reader’s character), Richard Speight x reader, Richard Speight x Jensen, Misha x Reader, Jared x Reader, Jared x Misha. 

Word Count: 5103

Want more? Check out my masterlist!

****MASTERLIST****

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Jensen's POV:

"Jensen, JENSEN!" Mikaela screamed at him. Making him jump in his seat. 

"Sorry." He said, Settling back down in the makeup chair. Turning his head for her like she wanted so that she could even out the base coat of makeup she was applying to his face. 

"You feeling okay? You're really zoned out this morning."

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine, just tired I guess." Jensen said. Knowing that was an absolute lie. He wasn't tired at all. In fact he'd never felt more awake in his life. 

Today was the day he'd been nervous about since he found out about it. The sex scene between "Cherry," Dean's new love interests.. And Dean. And Cherry just happened to also be Richard's niece y/n. 

See Jensen has had a secret crush on y/n since she started working for the show four weeks ago. He'd been separated from Danneel for six months now. The only ones on the set that knew that was Jared. So there was no way that Jensen could ask y/n out even though he really wanted to. He had to wait for things to become public, and he didn't want to do that until the divorce was finalized. 

Now here he was, going to have to preform a sex scene with the woman that he can't seem to get out of his head. While everyone, except Jared, thinks that he's still in love with Danneel.

"Morning sexy!!" Jared said, flopping down in the makeup chair next to him. Handing him a cup of coffee that he gladly accepted. 

"Thank you!! I was running late this morning, and didn't get go by and grab myself any." 

"So you ready for today's scene with y/n?" Jared said wiggling his eyebrows at his friend. Watching him intently as he took a deep swing from his coffee.

"Yea, guess as I'll ever be... "

"Okay Jensen your done!" Mikaela said. Ushering him out of the trailer door. He was running late to the costume trailer as well, so he downed the rest of his coffee, and bolted for the door. Glad to be away from Jared and the conversation at hand. He did not want to discuss today's scene with anyone. He just wanted to get it over with. He definitely didn't want to admit he was fighting everything in him that was excited to see her underneath him, even if it was just pretend.

Jared's POV:

Jared rushed out of the makeup trailer headed toward the costume trailer. Seeing Misha coming out of it already in full Castiel mode. 

"Misha you coming to watch Jensen and y/n's scene today?" He asked. Making only two short strides of his long legs in order to catch up with the shorter man. 

"I don't know, should I? My coverage isn't until once they're done with you in the bunker library." Misha said. Looking up from his script he was reading when Jared had caught up with him. 

" Well you might want to, it might get... Interesting..." Jared said. Almost bouncing on the balls of his feet with glee. 

"What did you do Jared?" Misha said. Looking at the overly tall man, concerned, but grateful for once It was Jensen and y/n who were in the line of fire and not Misha himself. 

"Well. I was at my uncle's house on the brake, and while I was snooping in his guest bathroom I found some Viagra shots. So.. .I kind of stole one of them... Anyway, I knew Jay and y/n had this scene today, and was running late. So I got him a cup of coffee and brought it to the makeup trailer for him. With the Viagra shot mixed in it..." 

Jared was grinning like a criminal that had just pulled off the greatest bank robbery in human history. Misha stood there with his jaw on the ground, caught somewhere between amusement, and concern for Jensen. 

"Well did... I'm... Oh my god Jared... Did he drink it?" Misha said. Concern growing, but amusement winning out in the end. He did make a mental note NEVER to accept coffee from Jared ever again...

"Yep downed it before he left the makeup trailer. Come on, it's going to take them about an hour to set up. So it should be good and in his system by the time they get down to business." Jared said taking off toward the costume trailer to hurry and get changed into Sam's outfit. This may be the greatest prank he's pulled yet!!

Your POV:

You were having one of those days.. Nothing was going right. You spilled your coffee this morning before you got to finish it. Cliff was late getting you and Jensen to set, you both lived in the same apartment complex while filming in Vancouver, so you usually just car pooled with them, it was just easier. 

Even though you guys were already running late, traffic kept you even later, like the whole universe was trying to cosmically get you back for having  a huge crush on this extremely handsome and extremely married man that was sitting next to you. 

You where nervous about the sex scene today. No matter how many of them you did, they were always awkward. Add in the major crush you had on your costar, and that made it even more awkward. 

Jensen must have been nervous, because he wasn't his normal talkative self on the way into the studio. 

It was an hour worth of hair and makeup for you, then to your trailer to change into your nude underwear and robe to head to set. It was also December in Vancouver, which made that a very cold walk.

By the time you got to set that morning. Everyone was there and in place. Jensen was standing off in the corner talking to the director, you took your place already in the bed. For this scene your character Cherry was supposed to be sleeping, and Dean comes into her to.. Well You know... After an extra difficult hunt and your characters argument that you filmed yesterday were Dean had admitted his feelings for Cherry, but ran out of the bunker before she could respond to him.

Stripping your robe you get under the sheets and turn on your side as directed by Eric. Your uncle Richard comes over and kneels down on the side of the bed to talk to you.

"How are you feeling kid, are you sure you're okay with this?" 

"I'm a big girl Richard. I think I can handle a little sex scene." You tell him. Trying to downplay your nerves a little. 

"Okay, Okay," He said. Throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "You know what's going to happen, Jensen's going to come through the door, stand next to your bed. The coverage is going to be on a sleeping Cherry, Dean will then strip down and slip into the bed with you. That's where we're going to start the fun stuff. Now we haven't scripted this scene. Because no matter how much we've tried we can't make it look real on paper, so we're going to have Jensen adlib it. Just follow his lead. If at any moment you feel awkward or uncomfortable, just let us know and we'll reset and start over again. Okay." 

"Okay." You said. Feeling a little information overload, but you should be used to that by now. 

"Okay." He said, Standing up as they brought the lights down on set. "Jensen's a professional, don't worry." He said winking at you and making his way over to his directors chair while you tried your damndest to calm down your racing heart rate. 

Jensen's POV:

Jensen stood off to the side of the set, letting you get comfortable and covered before he made his way to his mark. Trying his hardest to keep his mind on the upcoming task at hand. To do this with as few takes as possible. 

He felt funny, but attributed it to his nerves, and tried to shake it off. Looking over to the side of him behind the camera he saw Jared and Misha standing off to the side by the PA's whispering to each other. Probably going to try and find a reason to make fun of him after this scene is over. Great more pressure. 

Jensen adjusted his stance uncomfortably as the lights came down and they called the markers in place. The commands started to come out. Y/n adjusted in the bed and smiled at him. A smile that nearly knocked the breath out of him. The only problem is it seemed to show off her cleavage in the brief moment that she turned toward him. 

"Quiet on set!!" 

Fuck he was already getting hard, and he hadn't even gotten to the bed yet were she was laying. What the fuck was wrong with him? He tried to low key adjust himself to make himself more comfortable, and hide the fact that he was already having some problems. He'd never done this before. His heart rate quickened. 

"Action."

Your POV:

As soon as they called action your eyes closed and you started to put on the presumption that Cherry was asleep. Waiting for Dean to come through the door with battered breath. You never get tired of watching Jensen play Dean. Jensen was sexy to begin with, but when he put on his bad ass hunter act it just did all sorts of things to you that you weren't ready to admit yet.

You could hear the door shut to Cherry's room, you could also hear your heart beating in your ears, but you tried to ignore it. Keeping focused on keeping your breaths even, like you would if you were really sleeping. 

You could feel Jensen's presents behind you. Even though your eyes were closed. Hearing Dean's clothes hit the floor as he made quick work of them. 

You felt the bed dip as his weight came down behind you, his lips finding your throat. You knew that there was no script to this, and that he was just winging it. So you lay there. Playing off the fact that he hadn't woken her up yet. 

His lips ghosted over your throat to the pulse points behind your ears and you couldn't stop the shiver that went down your back.

"Cut!!!"

"Okay guys great so far. I don't think he needs to do that again. The next time it cuts to you guys your already going to be deep in the act. So... Let's start from there. Since this isn't scripted this might have to be done a few times. You guys good so far?" Richard called out from his directors chair.

"Yea, let's just do it." Jensen said, his voice was a little more strained than normal. He must be nervous too. 

"Okay you guys get in position and Jensen nod when you're ready."

Jensen adjusted himself to be hovering over you. Trying his best to keep staring at the wall, and not you lying underneath him. 

To say that the man was breathtaking was an understatement. A light sheen of sweat already coating his chest. You wondered if they sprayed him before he got into the bed. Why would he already be sweating? Jay wasn't really a sweater. Not that you'd ever noticed anyway. 

Finally looking down at you when he'd positioned himself between your legs, trying hard not to touch you with his body. He supported his weight on his arms, and knees. 

"You okay?" He asked. Looking down at you finally.

"Yeah I'm good, you?" You were starting to feel a little concerned about him. He wasn't acting like his normal joking Jensen at all. It worried you.

"I'm fine sweetheart don't worry about me." He said, winking at you. Trying to make light of an awkward situation. Even though you had nude underwear on, you couldn't help but feel exposed to him, and you couldn't help but feel self conscious about the parts of your body that you weren't necessarily happy with. 

Jensen looked over to Richard and nodded to him. Then the two of you lay there waiting on the words action!

Jensen had his eyes closed and was taking deep breaths above you. 

"Quiet on Set, ready, and action!!"

As soon as the words were called Jensen's mouth crashed into yours. Knocking the wind out of you. My god the man was a good kisser. 

His lips brushed lightly over your own. That's when you felt him start to move his body above your own, careful not to touch his hips to yours, and keep you covered from the other eyes in the room. 

"Cut!!"

Jensen's head connected to your shoulder and he growled in frustration. "What now Rich?" 

Richard took a tentative step toward the two of you. Jensen still holding his body above your own. 

"I'm sorry Jensen, It just didn't look real, your holding your body too high above hers, you're going to have to have a little contact with each other. You've done this before Jensen. What's wrong today?" 

Jensen took a deep breath, looking from Richard to you. "I just don't want to make y/n feel uncomfortable." He said, keeping his eyes focused on the bed comforter. It was starting to make you feel even more self conscious. Did he not feel attracted to you at all? Did you disgust him so much that he didn't want to even pretend to have sex with you?

Quickly you shoved the feels down, you had to get through this scene. He said he just didn't want to make you uncomfortable. He was trying to show you a little respect, and keeping his eyes deviated form you until absolutely necessary y/n quite being so self conscious!! Jensen is your friend!

"Y/n I don't mean to sound crude, but your niece, and I know you can handle it. I've seen you at parties, we're not that far apart in age, I'm sure you're not a virgin." Your eyes narrowed at him, silently daring him not to go too far here. 

Richard threw his hands up in surrender, and stepped back a step. "All I'm saying is I don't think he'd make you that uncomfortable if his hips ground into you a little. Hell you both have underwear on. It's not like you're really touching each other." 

Rolling your eyes at him and fighting the urge to throw a pillow at his face. "No Richard, it won't make me uncomfortable. Now can we get this done!' 

"Fine, Okay guys here we go!" Richard said running back to his seat. "Action."

Again Jensen's mouth found yours. Slow, but gaining momentum. He ran his hand down your side that the camera was covered on and you couldn't help the small gasp that left your lips or the involuntary shiver that ran down your spine at his touch. 

What you didn't expect was his tongue to run across your lip. Maybe it was an accident. Was he really going to break that rule? Not that you'd mind, but It just didn't seem like Jensen. 

Until you felt it again. This time you give him entrance, and he moans so lowly into your mouth that the camera's wouldn't be able to catch it. The sound is going directly to your core. Soaking your thin layer of panties. 

With that his hips came down fully against yours. Grinding into you once. Something felt off, but you couldn't put your finger on it. His hips came down to yours again as his mouth made its way down your throat. This time you felt him. 

Was he seriously fully erected right now?

He started picking up his pace. Almost rutting into you now. Little moans fall from his lips. 

"Cut!! JENSEN!!"  As soon as his name was called. He flew out of the bed. His back to you and his hands in his hair.  God his back was sexy, but you could tell there was something wrong. 

"Richard I need a few minutes!!" He called over his shoulder not turning around. Jared and Misha burst into a hysterical fit of laughter as Jensen through his robe over his shoulders and almost ran off the set. 

"Okay everybody take 30." Richard said. Grabbing your robe you threw it over your shoulders before Jared and Misha made their way over to where you were standing. Jared was laughing so hard he could hardly breath.

"It's not funny Jared. I think something is wrong with Jensen." You tell him as soon as he gets an ear shot. He couldn't respond only doubling over in laughter.

"Oh yea there's something wrong with him alright." Misha said wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's hard to do a sex scene when your horny as fuck." 

With that Jared fell down on the ground on his back rolling. You resisted the urge to hit Misha in the face.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked. You weren't about to tell them what you felt, or what Jensen was doing right before the director called cut, because that wasn't Jensen you knew it. They'd done something to him.

"I mean Jared here slipped him liquid Viagra in his coffee this morning in the makeup trailer. He's not quite thinking with his upstairs brain at the moment."

Running your hands over your face as Jared got to his feel heaving with laughter, trying to catch his breath.

"Looks like he ran off to his trailer to try and get ahold of Danneel." Misha said doubling over in his own fit of laughter. Jared on the other hand froze. Not laughing anymore. 

"Oh fuck I forgot." He said, Looking between the two of you. 

"Forgot what?" You said. Fighting the urge to go find a step ladder so that you could slap him in the face without having to jump.

"You guys got to promise not to tell this to anybody, but him and Danni are getting a divorce."

Misha, no longer laughing, turned and faced Jared. "So you mean he's got no one to help him out there, and he's going to basically be stuck with a minimum four hour erection. Jared that's not funny."

"I fucking forgot okay, I knew he had a crush on y/n, he was nervous about the scene today, I just wanted to fuck with him. I didn't think that far ahead. He should be able to just beat it off he'll be fine."

You stood there in stunned silence. "He's got a crush on me?" You said. Looking between the two men. 

They both stopped and looked at you. Jared visibly kicked himself for this prank that had gone very wrong, very quickly.

"Jared you got to go tell him what you did! He's probably freaking the fuck out right now" You tell him. Jared nodes at you, and runs off toward Jensen's trailer. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He felt horrible, but it was too late to take it back now. 

You stood there for a moment weighing your options. 

Finally you made up your mind. 

"Misha go tell Richard we're going to need a lot longer than 30, and that he should go ahead and just do yours and Jared's coverage, me and Jensen can resume after lunch." You said, stalking your way toward Jensen's trailer. 

Misha watched you go. He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face as realization hit him of where you were going, and just what you had planned to do.

Maybe this prank hadn't gone so wrong after all.

Jensen's POV:

"YOU FUCKING What?!?!" To say that Jensen was livid was an understatement. "What the fuck am I going to do now Jared?!" Pacing back and forth across the trailer. He was frustrated, hornier than he'd ever been in his life, and annoyed beyond belief because of the combination of the two. He was also on the verge of panic. He'd never taken anything like this before, so he had no idea how it was going to react to him, he was only about an hour and a half into its effects. 

"Jensen I'm so fucking sorry, I wasn't thinking about you not having anyone.... to.... you know..." Jensen narrowed his eyes at him in a death glare. Jared threw his arms up, and backed up a few steps. 

"Well guess who gets to explain to Richard why I can't do this scene today?" Jensen says, voice filled with humorless venom. 

Jared looked at the ground, and nodded before looking back up at Jensen who's face and neck was slightly red in the tent. Palming himself through his robes subconsciously. Not looking at Jared at all anymore. Just leaning against the wall with his eyes shut next to the bedroom of the trailer. 

"Maybe I should take you to the hospital?" Jared asked sheepishly. Jensen through his hand up to shut him up. It was getting harder to concentrate. 

"Jared I'm not going to the hospital for this, you've lost your fucking mind." 

"Well if you can't get your... self... under control there you may have to." 

"Jared get the fuck out."

"But.."

Jensen said nothing just pointed to the front door. Jared nodded and walked out the door.  Jensen flopped down on the small couch where he kept his pillow for napping during takes. 

Grabbing a bottle of lotion from the table that y/n had left in there when she was there yesterday running lines with him. The thought of her made him ache even more. His mind is unable to focus on anything but her, and what she'd feel like wrapped around him. 

Groaning and running his hand down his face, he pulled his robe open, and freed himself from his boxers. Putting  a generous amount of lotion in his hand, then began to stroke his aching length. Getting desperate to find some relief. 

He'd only pumped himself about twice when there was another knock on his door. Fuck this was literally going to kill, or Jared, he wasn't sure yet. 

Your POV:

Reaching Jensen's trailer you still your nerves, reach up and knock on the door.... Nothing. Clif's SUV was still in the parking lot, so you knew he was still here. Just not answering the door. 

Reaching up you knock again a little louder. 

"Go away Jared!!" Finally came the muffled response through the trailer door. 

Taking a deep breath, and thanking God that he hadn't had some massive reaction, or had a heart attack from the medication you steel your nerves. 'You can do this.'

"Jensen let me in please." You yell back through the door. Silence for a moment, Just as you were about to pick the lock you heard his voice a little closer to the door. 

"Y/n go away, you don't want to see me right now." 

"Jensen please! I know what Jared did to you! Misha is talking to Richard right now! Let me in!"

Silence. 

"Don't make me pick the lock Jensen."

More silence. 

Just as you were about to pull the hairpin out of your pock to pick the lock on his trailer door, playing a hunter on TV had taught you how to pick a lock pretty well, you heard the latch unlock on the trailer. 

Opening the door yourself you see Jensen leaning against the bar that separated the living room from the kitchen section of the trailer. 

His face and neck were red, he had a light sheen of sweat still on his face. His breathing was a little heavier than normal. You could only see him from the chest down, seeing as he was standing behind the bar. 

"Are they going to cancel the scene for the rest of the day?" He asked. His voice is rough and low. The sound alone sends shock waves through your body. Landing somewhere in your core. 

"Yeah, we're off the hook until lunchtime." You tell him reaching over and locking the door behind you. His eyes following your every movement. "Jared and Misha are going to go ahead and shoot their coverage, that should give us about three hours for you to recover."

You start to undo your robe and slip it from your shoulders as you are talking. Your eyes never leave Jensen. He reaches down, obviously palming himself behind the counter. "Y/n... You don't have to do this....." 

Deliberately walking around the counter to him. His robe open, His chest showing bare for you to see. His black boxers barely cover his swollen length. Walking up to him you run your hand down his chest. A shiver visibly runs through him, and he leans himself into your touch. 

"Let me help you Jay, Jared already told Misha and myself that you don't have anyone that can help you. You don't want to end up in the hospital."

Leaning his head down on your shoulder for a moment. Taking a deep breath before wrapping his arms around your waist. 

"Y/n I don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me." He said, not looking at you, just pulling you closer to him. Your chest now against his. His breathing is getting deeper. 

"Jensen I would do this regardless if Jared drugged your ass or not. Have you seen you lately?" You say jokingly. Trying to make light of his situation. 

Grabbing his hand you pull him toward the open door of the bedroom of his trailer. He follows you silently without a fuss. Pulling the bedroom door shut behind the two of you. 

You lay down on the bed and back yourself up against the headboard with Jensen hot on your heels. His eyes lust blown. Deciding it was no use to fight it. If he didn't do something to get himself off he was going to lose his fucking mind. 

Crashing his lips into your his kissed you deep, fully of passion and need. His tongue sliding easily into your lips. Expertly gliding over your own. A moan rose low in your throat, and that spurred him on. 

Making his way down your jaw line, to your pulse points on your neck, nipping and marking the skin there as he went. 

Reaching around behind you, you arched your back so that he could quickly unlatch your bra. Jerking it away and throwing it across the small room. Taking a moment to look down over you exposed chest. Gently running his fingers between your cleavage as he admired you. Outside your breast. From one to the other before leaning down and gently sucking on each nipple. Making them stand on end for him. Your body arching into his, sucking in a deep breath. 

He hissed as your body pressed against him. Ripping your panties off, and throwing them across the room with your bra before removing his boxer. He quickly lined himself up with you. Slipping just the tip inside your already dripping core. 

"You sure baby? I don't want to do this if you don't want to. I'll just go to the ER if it gets worse." 

Putting your lips to his to silence his worrying, you run your fingers through his short hair as your mouth moves smoothly with his. 

Deliberately he slides himself fully into you with one swift thrust. Both of you groaning as he fills and stretches you in a way no man has ever. Visibly shaking as he holds himself still, giving you a moment to adjust to him. Kissing you deeply before pulling himself almost all the way out, and sliding back in. 

The sensation of his manhood dragging along the inside of your walls was almost enough to send you over the edge right there. You dig your nails into his shoulders and arching your back into him as he finds a steady rhythm. Both of you are touching and feeling all of each other that you could reach. He kept his body pressed close to yours. His hips hitting your clit just right every time he slid himself home. 

Over and over again he repeated his steady rhythm, not faulting once. Building you higher and higher. The coil winding tighter and tighter in your belly. 

"Jensen.. Fuck.... I'm close..." With that you were thrown over the edge walls tightening around his pulsing length. Grunting loudly he worked you at a steady pace through your high. Picking up the pace casing his own. 

Slamming his hips into you faster until he was pounding into you at a punishing pace. Then starting to falter his body jerked above you and inside of you as he spilled seed deep inside of you. Moaning loudly into your shoulder. Slowly trusting himself into you as he road out his own high. Finally stilling inside of you. 

Rolling you both over to your sides before pulling out of you. Kissing you a lot calmer now. Sweeter. Taking his time exploring your mouth, you hands tracing the outline of the curves in your body that you honestly hated. He treated it like it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

You don't know how long the two of you laid there. Just holding each other as your hearts went back to a normal pace.

"How are you feeling now?" You asked him quietly as he ran his fingers through your hair. Peppering you with little kisses. 

He shrugged. 

"Don't know, ask me again in about 15 minutes. They say that shit he gave me last up to four hours. I still have almost three hours to go...."

"Well.... we're just going to stay here and take care of you until you feel better. Good practice for the scene today..."

Giggle a little with you he pressed his forehead to yours. Taking a deep breath. 

"Y/n... I'm a pretty fuck up person. I'm not walking out of that marriage completely fine,  but if you will have me, I really don't want this to be just a fling because Jared is a jackass."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest. You couldn't help the stupid smile that spread across your face as you brushed your lips over his soft pink ones. 

"I think I can handle whatever you have to dish out Ackles."

"Well in that case remind me to thank Jared for being a fucking asshole and drugging my ass." He said with a laugh. You could feel his body already responding to you as he quickly began to harden again. 

"Yeah, I'm going to have to send him a fucking thank you card."

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Tag List:

@deanwanddamons @imabitch4jensen @rvgrsbrns @bi-danvers0 @onethirstyunicorn @i-love-superhero @akshi8278​

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Come Back to Haunt You || Morgan & Agnes

TIMING: This Evening

PARTIES: @mor-beck-more-problems & Agnes Bachman (written by @chloeinbetween)

SUMMARY: The past haunts; so does family. Agnes wants this time to be different.

CONTAINS: brief references to parental abuse

Morgan felt half ghost as she cleaned the kitchen. Her fingers slipped on everything she touched, cracking dishes without her noticing. It was the cotton fog of death, partially. But it was also the weight of the last few weeks on Morgan’s soul, which pulled on her as though she was coming unglued from her body. Maybe she would simply come out of her trance and find herself floating over her bed, phasing through her life, or what broken pieces passed for her life these days. Morgan shuddered. She didn’t feel pain the way the living did, but it still dwelled in her, trapped and hungry for ways out. Unwilling to run the risk of destroying the rest of her dishware, Morgan went outside to the pool and sank her feet in the water, watching the lights along the walls dance as she kicked her feet. She had centuries ahead of her of this, if she was lucky: more mortal bullshit, more loss, more suffering. Maybe if she hadn’t been so worn out from living with Constance’s curse, she wouldn’t feel so tired. But staring down at her warbled reflection, she couldn’t imagine these last few weeks not breaking anyone.

The evening wind rippled the water and Morgan’s reflection split in two. Or not quite. Morgan squinted closer before remembering she could look over her shoulder. “Agnes,” she breathed. “How are you here? I thought Blanche’s circle sent you back to Texas. Is everything okay?” Too much. Even Morgan couldn’t sit up with that. She gave her (great-great) grandmother as much of a smile as she could muster, relieved to see her face however sad it looked. “Why don’t you come sit, or...float, I guess. There’s plenty of room out here.”

Agnes hadn’t known it would be like this to cross these distances. Her space in Texas had been hers for decades. It held her like gravity once had, but after Morgan’s visit, she’d felt pulled in two directions. Maybe there was something more here than her restless in between that had lingered over the decades. It had not been easy, but she had made her way across the continent to here. It was almost as if White Crest had been calling her. Perhaps it was Constance. Perhaps it was Morgan herself. She hovered, looking over Morgan at their shared reflections. “I do not know if everything is okay.” She sat, slowly, looking over the pool. “I felt like I was needed here, with you…. And Constance. So I came.”

Morgan watched Agnes sit. This was the kind of nonsense she’d dreamed up as a lonely kid: a kind, magical woman showing up out of the blue and sitting next to her with no reasoning beyond ‘you needed me.’ No blame, no yelling, no guilt. Just someone who gave a shit about her enough to come. To try. If Morgan didn’t have so much experience with her own mental instability, she might have suspected she was imagining Agnes. She waited a second, still staring at her, tears welling up, and then she laughed. A sad one, heavy, ready to crack into sobs at any moment. “You just...came, huh?” She scrubbed her eyes, laughing still. “I’m sorry this is just...we didn’t get to talk much last time, so you don’t know that things were already bad for me, but somehow since then, it’s actually gotten worse.” She sniffled, smiling wryly. “And uh, you are the first family I’ve had show up for me without giving me any shit right off the bat. Ever. Even counting the live family that used to know me.” She didn’t want to think about Constance. She knew she was putting people at risk dragging her feet on this magic ‘source,’ but tracking down someone worth destroying felt easier said than done, and Morgan lacked the strength to do more than go through the motions and keep the people she had left it check most days. She tried to put her thoughts of the ritual aside. “Kinda sucks that we had to die to meet, but what can ya do?” She shrugged, trying to shake the bitter angst off of her, and gave Agnes a sincere, watery smile. “It’s good to see you, Agnes...grandma, whatever you want me to call you. Not sure if there’s anything you can do, but thank you.”

Carefully poised, Agnes only shifted a little in concern as she noticed the tears welling up in Morgan’s eyes just from her presence. It didn’t occur to her that she might be the cause until Morgan laughed just as suddenly. “Morgan?” She asked cautiously, too used to being a ghost to make any offer of physical affection. “Things have gotten worse? How do you mean? Has Constance done something else?” Agnes asked, looking around in the dark. Her heart ached at Morgan’s simple admission. For all the suffering Constance had caused, she had also done this: she had slowly turned Agnes’ family into canyons and cliff faces, hard and windworn to withstand their constant suffering. Sometimes, they had become cruel to survive the cruelty, and in the end it had still not served them. 

“I am so sorry, Morgan. Agnes will do. I might be able to do something.” I need to be able to do something, Agnes didn’t say. She could neither stand by in ignorance as Constance tried to kill Morgan a second time, nor could she stand the thought of Constance being destroyed forever. There had to be something else, an option that only she could help with. Agnes was too coward to consider any other alternative. “If nothing else, I can listen.”

“Oh, no,” Morgan sighed. “I almost wish Constance had done something for the sake of distraction. If she’d been the one who’d been in charge of the last few weeks, I think I would actually stop having to convince people that I have a point about her.” She winced, remembering Agnes’ horror when she’d mentioned her plans during the seance. “Well, the ‘bad’ part before we met was a friend of mine dying really horribly, and my relationship falling apart, you know, after my closest friends decided they don’t really get what I’m trying to do with this...ritual thing. Which, apparently, requires a blood sacrifice. So that’s fun.” Morgan let out a shaky breath. “And now I just...feel so lost and tired. An amazing feeling, really, when you can’t sleep to save your life. I almost died once or twice, but that’s just White Crest for you. And I know the longer Constance is out there, the more dangerous she becomes, but I want to get this right. I don’t have much propping myself up right now, so I need to make sure this gets done right.” She smiled sadly at Agnes. “I know you don’t like it either. Maybe it’s hard, with how well you used to know her and how sorry you are about what happened. But I don’t think you deserve what she did to you. I don’t think any of us do. I’m just trying to balance what I can, you know?”

As Morgan spoke, her legs shifted slightly in the water, which in turn made tiny ripples, breaking up Agnes’s reflection as she looked down at the two of them. In so many ways, they looked alike, and were alike. Morgan’s heart was weary with isolation of her own design, but unlike Agnes she would not back down. It just wasn’t serving her any more than Agnes’s own choices had served her. The only comfort she could offer now was her company, and her quiet, patient listening as Morgan talked about it. “A blood sacrifice?” She echoed. “I’m so sorry. You should not have to carry so much in your life.” It was empty comfort, but it was all she had to give Morgan. “I have seen so much pain stemming from that fateful day. Perhaps you would understand why I might wish to avoid more.” Agnes sighed deeply, shifting closer to Morgan. She could not offer an arm of comfort around her. “I do not know that it is a question of deserve. I just wish for this all to end. I never wanted so many of you to suffer for my choices like this.” She hadn’t ever planned to have a bloodline to curse. She ought to have ended this a century ago, but then like now she had been permissive, letting others expectations and desires dictate her action. No, that wasn’t exactly true, was it? It was her own cowardice, over and over, that had lead them here. “What do you hope to find at the end of Constance’s suffering, Morgan?”

“Yep,” Morgan said, smirking humorlessly. “No pain, no gain. I guess that’s what I get for assuming that exorcisms were just like normal spells. The ‘source’ is pain, blood is traditional and best as far as I reckon. Live stuff. Honestly, this wouldn’t be such a problem if it wasn’t for Constance. The simplest and most elegant solution would be to bleed myself. I have a lifetime of awful shit to offer up. But the dead are beyond most magic. So, I need something else.” It would be easy, she supposed, to pluck someone off the street, or find out who had been most recently screamed for and rest in the knowledge that her unwitting volunteer wasn’t losing out on that much. But Morgan didn’t want to cause suffering arbitrarily. That’s what Constance had done when she took one moment out on generations of Bachmans after Agnes. It should be as intentional as the rest of the ritual. It had to be better than Constance. 

Morgan listed to one side as Agnes spoke, aching to fall against her and be held. “You made a mistake, Agnes,” she mumbled. “Hurting people you love and making them feel like nothing…” She shook her head with bitter recognition. “Yeah, it breaks you, to be on the receiving end of that, or to do that without meaning to. I know. But it’s not something that warrants what she did. If you love someone…” You hang on or you let go, was what Morgan wanted to say. But she was still trying to figure that one out. Staying in limbo, where she could punish Deirdre or not, embrace her or not, was still safer than committing one way or the other. “...You don’t do what she did. It should stay between the two of you, and nothing more.” That much, she did believe. “And, you know, I met what was left of your mother. I get being scared of what she might do to you.” It ran in the family, apparently. 

She thought long and hard about Agnes’ question, knowing that it was a rare opportunity to be understood, to make Agnes see what she was really up to. “I want it to end,” She sighed. “I want to banish some of this pain, to put it somewhere that’s not me. I already have so much now, she can afford to take on an hours’ worth of mine. She can do that much for me. And it…” Her voice caught. “It just feels so wrong, I get sick and disgusted thinking about it, it feels that wrong--to think about giving her what she took from me. I will never sleep. I will never have peace. I just...go. Maybe it makes me a bad person if you believe in those, but I will do this before I give her that kind of mercy. She’s made it so I spent my mortal life being crushed by her magic and I just can’t tell her ‘thanks, it’s okay!’ about it.” Morgan shrugged helplessly as her eyes filled with tears. She blinked them back as best she could, an effort at pride in front of the only family she had left who might like her.

Agnes had several lifetimes of experience of not speaking her mind. Even now, she held her tongue as Morgan spoke, keeping her thoughts tucked behind the layers of her clothes and her features. A lifetime of telling her parents what they wanted to hear, until she had said at a wedding she had barely wanted, yes in her bedroom, and then yes to her husband for the rest of her life. Yes to one child, then two. Yes to watching over them as they grew like saplings in a thornbush, destined to be crushed by Constance’s curse. Agnes was ever so good at watching the world go by without ever expressing her opinion. It was no new matter to listen to Morgan plan to set her whole world on fire. Hurting someone she deemed deserved to hurt so that she could inflict a worse hell onto someone else, losing every friend she had in this town to a cause that would bring an end to something that had tormented their family for centuries. 

Exposed to Morgan’s bleeding heart, Agnes wondered if she had made the wrong choice. One reason to stay in Texas was that she didn’t have to see so viscerally the harm the curse Constance had caused. She’d been able to ignore her own culpability. That was not so as Morgan laid out the road map of her suffering, and what she had planned for Constance. “My mother is inconsequential, now.” Was all she had to say. 

Perhaps it was that she had spent so much time looking the other way that her heart ached for Constance despite the last century. Agnes was still that romantic child, sneaking picnics in the forest and braiding Constance’s long, red locks. She could picture them walking along the streams when she looked in the ripples of the swimming pool, right next to the reflection of Morgan’s pallid skin. There was no way, any more, to prevent their deaths. It would be easier to look away. But there was perhaps something even more important for Agnes to protect. “I do not expect that you would be able to walk away. There is no forgiving her actions, no matter how much I loved her,” That much was true, “I worry that her destruction will also be yours. That in trying to bring about justice, you will taint some fundamental part of yourself that you will not get back in the rest of your centuries. Constance has taken so much from us, I do not want you to lose any other part of yourself. This blood sacrifice, especially, that frightens me. Shouldn’t that also stay between us?”

The way Agnes said the word love made Morgan’s heart ache. Agnes seemed more shadow than woman in ways that went beyond her incorporeal body. There was no wonder or surprise or excitement. In her kindness, dampened with sorrow, Morgan imagined that Agnes had seen all of this before. Or thought she had. Maybe she was so hollowed out because she’d been stuck on this cruel plane for so long, or maybe it was the guilt she couldn’t let go of, but she changed when she said that word. Morgan couldn’t decide if it gave her hope for eternity, or if it was just kind of awful that Constance still had such power over Agnes in death.

“I don’t even know what there is of me some days,” Morgan said, unable to indulge Agnes’ concern seriously. “You don’t have to worry. I’ve killed before. Not a lot, just people who were already trying to kill me. You know how some hunters are, or maybe not, but my point is--if I can just find someone that makes sense, it’ll be fine.” She didn’t know how she would go about that, still, but she shrugged as if it was nothing worth worrying about. She needed to keep up her confidence, and maybe it would get Agnes to believe in her more too. “Is that what we were to her, do you think? Sacrifices?” She asked. “Just logs to burn on her fire, over and over, til we’re just little white bits of coal and she needs another? See, that just sounds like another reason to do it. I’d bleed whoever in front of her if I could. To make sure she understands.” But without someone she loathed as much as Constance, that didn’t sound especially likely. She didn’t need to make a production of things, she just needed to get to the fucking finish line. Maybe finding the best way to do that could be her new anchor for a while; she certainly wanted it badly enough. “You don’t have to like this. I get being in love with someone just as fucked up as you are if not more. Just please don’t stop me, Agnes. You’re all the family I have and I would really appreciate it if you could just...not take this from me.” What did she have without it? What was there to do but accept she’d been screwed by a hateful ragweed of a girl and let her skip off into the sunset? Morgan couldn’t. There was enough of her life in pieces and she wouldn't let all her grief follow suit. Maybe if she did everything right, if she won, she’d feel a little stronger about facing the rest of what had broken, too. “Can you please give me that much?”

“That you have killed before in self defense is not reassuring,” Agnes replied, and briefly considered listing all the ways it caused concern, before assuming that that was also a lost cause. Morgan did not want to hear, and so it was easier not to speak. “I think… that is an apt metaphor. Her rage is almost consuming, and she has used other’s suffering to feed it. It is no way to spend one’s death. Nor one’s life.” Agnes added that last part delicately, her voice airy.  If Morgan truly believed this would serve her, who was Agnes to stop her? She could offer her descendent this much, one more thing in her lifetimes of permitting things to happen. She smiled, her grief drawing deep lines in her face. It was no longer instinct to reach out to offer the comfort of touch when she had no comfort to offer, but she still hovered her hand over Morgan’s, looking deep in her eyes. “I swear it.”

Agnes said nothing of trying to stop Constance. 

[softweebqueen]

👋 hello 👋 I’m new so can I get some spicy sero smut, I saw that you did sero so I was like yess let’s ask, that’s if your ok with it! But thanks a whole bunch!!!👌👌💕💕

~ So I broke this up into two parts because I know I would never post it if I didn’t. So this is the first part and part number two will be up soon. I just am really bad at the spicy stuff so I need so much help from my friends. Also it’s like 3 in the morning while I’m posting it and I have not done any editing to it so ignore my mistakes.~ 

Fun Fact: Characters are aged up. 

The lights were low in the hazy smoke-filled room. The reek of stale beer and burnt out cigarettes swirled around the air burning those nostrils of anyone who walked in from outside. Bodies filled the tables and the booths while music played in the background drowning out the sounds of their conversations. The bar was surrounded by those who had already drunk too much and found pleasure in harassing the bartenders. The occasional single attractive female would find herself sitting on a stool with a drink in her hand but would soon retreat back to her group of friends when approached by the bar’s seemingly endless amounts of creeps. Their hands traveling places where they didn’t belong and their mouths speaking words that no girl would ever want to hear from a stranger. 

You couldn’t help but wonder how in the world you ended up here in the place you hated the most. Of course, you’ve been here before on lonely nights. Those nights were never as busy as it is now. You were unaware of the reason for it being so busy but you were forced into being at this bar by one of your roommates. It was a rare occasion that everyone was able to get together. Someone was always busy or none of you could agree on one thing. This was a difficult task when there are six of you living under one roof. 

Some times you question why you chose to move in with the rowdy group that you call your friends. You would soon remember how convincing your best friend Mina is though. She was the reason all of you moved in together. The reason you put your sanity on the line to live with four boys and one other girl. There were perks to being in the same house as these nutcases though. Katsuki always cooked due to him hating how awful everyone else’s food tastes. Eijiro is surprisingly a clean freak so he does most of the chores. Denki was the idiot of the group which provided everyone with entertainment. Mina is like the house’s personal therapist and everyone’s best friend. Hanta… Well, Hanta was a completely different story. Living with him came with perks that only you benefitted from. 

It started on a lonely night when the two of you were home alone with a cabinet full of liquor. Gentle experimental touches were exchanged that night. It soon turned into late-night texts when either of you felt like you needed to feel something. Your roommates began to suspect that the two of you were sleeping together, however, the two of you would very quickly deny it. There was a time where you were almost caught in the shower with him. After that incident, you guys agreed to be ancient history. Your agreement didn’t last long. The two of you were right back at it within a week, continuing your late-night fucks almost weekly now. He was just so… intoxicating. When you were with him with your bodies pressed together, it was a whole different type of high. There also came along the certain thrill of being able to sleep with someone whenever you pleased without the commitment.

“This is lame.” Hanta Sero grumbled as he sat in the seat to the right of you. “Where is everyone else?” The two of you had been sitting at a table waiting for your housemates to join you for the past hour. You passed the time by drinking more thanyou should have, however, you couldn’t stop due to the tall lean boy bringing drinks back to the table for you. In fact, he had just come back from the bar to place a drink right in front of you. You wasted no time downing the drink, feeling the buzz of the one too many drinks coursing their way through your system.

“You know they probably aren’t going to show up. It wouldn’t be the first time.” You pointed with a small shrug of your shoulder. It was usual for them to be late when all of you would get together. Sometimes they wouldn’t even show up. You didn’t mind the little bit of alone time with Sero though. He is good company even when the two of you aren’t fucking. He is laid back, funny, and has such a calming effect on those around him. 

“I wouldn’t mind some alone time with you. It’s been a while.” You leaned in close to him whispering in his ear. Your lips brushing against the soft spot just below his ear before moving away. A loud familiar voice pulled your attention away from the boy who sat next to you. Across the bar was a rowdy group that you called your friends. The ash-blonde boy arguing with the two other boys. The short pink-haired girl, waving frantically when she made eye contact with you. Her lips were moving but the other sounds of the bar filled your ears. You watched as they slithered between the groups of people just to get to the table. Your eyes scanned their figures. If you said they clean up nicely, you wouldn’t be lying. Mina had to have something to do with it because there was no way in hell Denki and Eijiro dressed themselves. They both looked too good. Not too fancy. But not too casual. Just the right mix that made your foggy mind start to wander places where it shouldn’t. 

“I’m sorry we’re so late! It was impossible to get Ei to change out his damn crocs.” Mina grumbled as she sat at the table, noticing just how many empty shot glasses and pints littered the top. “You guys didn’t wait for us?!” Her laughter was so light and playful that you couldn’t help but grin. Without her, you were sure this group would have fallen apart a long time ago. Maybe not fall apart but you all would not be living in the same house. 

“I couldn’t help myself. You know how I am when there’s liquid courage around.” You admitted sheepishly as your eyes locked with Denki’s. The corner of your lips tugging up into a smirk. Oh, the hell you were going to put him through just for the sole purpose that he was the unlucky fool who sat across from you. “I do have to say that you look pretty good right now, Denki… However, I think you’d look better on top of me.” Your coy smile not matching the words that came out of your mouth. A brief silence fell over the table while all their eyes flashed between you and Denki. The table shifted from the weight of you leaning forward and resting your chin in your hand. 

“Alright… You need to calm down and lay off the drinks, you nasty.” Mina scolded you, throwing a paper coaster at you playfully which you tried to catch but only failed terribly. It was a sure sign that you were a bit tipsier than you’d like to admit. It was the childish smile that you flashed in her direction that made her shake her head, laughing. “Well since we’re all here, I can finally explain why we had to come to this specific bar on this specific night.” She looked down at her phone only to check the time as she spoke. “Here in about thirty minutes, karaoke night begins and we all need to loosen up and enjoy ourselves!” The collective groan she earned from the lot of you only coaxed a devilish grin out of the pink girl. How you guys were stupid enough to fall for such an obvious scheme was a whole mystery. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The night quickly passed by as the hours were filled with chit chat, mindless flirting, and downing a few drinks here and there. Your friends even convinced you to sing a solo but other than that you wouldn’t go up unless one of them was singing with you. Most of the time it was just you and Mina having the time of your lives. The time speedily approaching the early hours of the morning. At this point, you were drunker than the others who sat at your table. Denki had joined in with you when it came to drinking, almost catching up to you but didn’t quite get to your leg. A large portion of the night, the two of you becoming touchy and flirty with each other. As this went on, the lean boy next to you only grew tenser, watching the way you acted with the blonde across from you. 

He had stopped drinking a while ago just so he could keep an eye on the two of you. It was driving him insane. The way you would pull your bottom lip in between your teeth as Denki spoke to you. How you would lean in only centimeters away from the other boy’s face just to say something to him. All the snide and dirty comments leaving your lips. It was really starting to get on his nerves. Hanta Sero knew that there was nothing between the two of you that would make you tied down to him however that didn’t stop the jealousy that rose up in his chest as he watched your feather-light touches brushed against Denki’s skin. You were his plaything and he wasn’t just going to let some ripoff Pikachu steal you away.   

You finally noticed how tense the boy next you was as you leaned against him, holding your stomach as you tried to suppress the giggles that Denki pulled from your lips with a stupid joke that would normally only make you roll your eyes. When you finally pulled yourself together, it was impossible to hide the smirk on your lips. It took long enough for Sero to get so worked up. You were unsure if you would be able to keep up your game with Denki for much longer. Of course, you loved Denki but you could never imagine yourself doing anything with him. He was like a brother to you. 

“A little tense are we? Do you need some help loosening up?” You whispered and leaned in close to the raven-haired boy. Your lips brushing against the shell of his ear while your hand came to rest just above his knee. Laughter threatened to spill from you when you saw the stupid look on his face. He seemed to be frozen in fear. Neither of you had ever been very touchy with each other in public so he had a right to be taken aback by your actions. “Just relax… I’ll help you loosen up.” You purred quietly before laying your head on his shoulder, looking at your other friends who were engaged in a seemingly heated argument about something you couldn’t care less about. 

Feather-light touches brushed against the rough material of Sero’s jeans as your fingers trailed up his thigh, stopping to squeeze gently when it seemed his attention was pulled away by someone at the table. You continued the conversation that you had been having with Denki all the while. Though you drug out your teasing touches, Sero prayed that time would slow down. He wouldn’t be able to control himself if your teasing continued to work it’s way up his thigh. It wasn’t long until all eyes were on him, mouth agape from the gasp that your touch pulled from him. Your fingers brushing against the tent in his ever so tightening jeans, the innocence and fake concern plastered on your face as you looked at him like everyone else only frustrated him more. Tonight was going to be a long night for you. 

“Bro, you okay? Do you need anything?” Kirishima was genuinely concerned for his friend considering how Sero was squirming and gritting his teeth like he was in pain. The raven-haired boy scrunching up as his brows furrowed together, breathing as if he had just run a marathon. If only his friends knew the torturing he was enduring. How the feeling of your hand cupped against the bulge in his jean, applying light pressure as you rubbed him up and down, was driving him so far up the wall that he almost considered bending you over the table. He considered fucking you in front of all of your friends and everyone else in this bar so they knew just how much of a slut you are for him. 

“Hanta… Do you need some water?” Your sweet voice filling his ears as he turned to glare at you, the root of his current problem. To prevent this from going any further, his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist as he mumbled something about being perfectly fine. He applied more pressure to your wrist as he moved it away from his crotch before letting it go and drop to your side. His head turning to meet your gaze, giving you a look that could mean that you were completely and absolutely both figuratively and literally fucked. 

“I think it’s best to be the time that I go…” You rubbed the side of your neck with a small smile. Your friends now shifting their attention from Sero to you. Pouts forming on Denki and Kirishima’s lips. They began to beg you to stay awhile longer. Stay for a couple more drinks. Sing a song or two more with them. There were many appealing offers however you know if you stayed longer and drank anymore, you’d get yourself in even more trouble. 

“Just one more song. Sing for us one last time.” Mina begged with big sad puppy dog eyes burning into your soul. To deny her request would be like denying a starving puppy a bite of your ham sandwich. It was impossible to deny her request. Even if you weren’t already drunk it would be impossible. The table teetered slightly as you used as an aid to stand up from your seat. 

“One last song then I’m gone. Out of here.” A quiet sigh escaping but you couldn’t hide the smile on your lips as your friends cheered for you.

~ Heh. I promise the second part will have the spice you desire. It may not be good spice but it will be spice. Also gotta tag my favorite Hanta Sero lover @fourteenow ~

[mollydollyjournals]

So. It is March 23rd 2021. My birthday is soon. I weigh more than 157lbs.

I haven't been as active on here because I hate looking at thinspo when I can't do anything to get there. Since I had my jab a couple of weeks ago I've been really exhausted. Because of that I've felt worse mentally and have been drinking more, which has made me more exhausted, and I've eaten more shit foods, so of course I've gained weight. I should be thankful it's not more. It feels like more. Though that weight will also be partly due to toilet issues again. I can't go a day without lax apparently.

I feel a lot right now but also not much at all and I think I can't only describe it as heartbreak. This feels like I might have said it before. I made this account in late October last year - around that time/November, I went from around 163 to 156lbs. I wanted to get to my gw by my birthday, or at least significantly lower. So that I wouldn't feel so terrible.

Last year I was sad I couldn't do anything for my birthday due to the pandemic, as a lot of us were. This year will be my second lockdown birthday. It's also my 30th. I'm someone who already feels like they lost so much of their life to various issues. I feel so behind. If you told me I was actually turning 20 next week I'd still feel like it was too soon. So 30? I'm not ready. I wasn't finished. I at least had a year and a bit left of my 20s and now it's just gone. I guess it's typical millennial talk to say I just feel like too much of a child to be getting to an age where I'm no longer considered a young person by any metric.

I don't really look old. I get IDed all the time. People tend to mistake me for a teenager (though I'm guessing an actual teenager would probably know I'm at least older than them). I guess at least I'm not aging on the outside faster than I can keep up. But that tends to be the issue most people have with getting older, like as long as they look young and don't have too much joint pain then it's okay. That's not it for me. My physical health has been bad for so long and is connected so much to my mental health that I don't really know how much of that is due to age, but as far as appearance goes it's not that I don't recognise my reflection or anything. I occasionally get one wrinkle under my eye but that's just if a smile and thinking about it it's probably the one that's been there all my life because that's how eyes work.

But I know that's all coming. And regardless, I just feel really discouraged. You're supposed to learn how to do things as you grow up. I feel like I haven't grown up. I was just forced into it too young and I played pretend with it but I'm totally lost. I can't handle responsibility. I sometimes handle it in the moment but then I always break down afterwards. The only thing that can help is constant praise as if it's some amazing feat. But you don't get that when you're 30, you get it when you're 12 and "so mature" but then it just stops somewhere.

I feel like if I haven't got anywhere by now, why should I have any hope I'll get anywhere in future? Often people talk about turning 30 as being a time when they've learned more about themselves or got more comfortable, even without going into tangible "achievements" with work and family and money and whatever. But I haven't. I got married, and I even fucked that up.

All of these things have been on my mind about my birthday. I wanted to at least lose some weight. At least some. Just get back to where I was a few years ago. With a few months of working on it, I could at least do that. I had plenty of time until my birthday. But now it's here. My weight plateaued, I got frustrated and drank too much that one day in November and made myself seriously ill for a long time, I just about recovered and had a fucking fecal impaction that made me really ill I'm still feeling the effects of, I got a little more energy then had loads of side effects from the covid jab, and even at the times when this stuff wasn't getting in the way I was either doing badly and eating too much/not exercising, or I was doing stuff but my weight wasn't changing.

And now it's fucking here already. Logically I know it's just another day, 30 isn't exactly any different to 29, freaking out doesn't help, my metabolism isn't the same as when I was 14, etc etc blah whatever. But I have always had this horrible feeling of time just going past me. I've had it since I was a teenager and all my friends from school we're continuing with their education and I was just aimlessly floating and trying to survive. Like I was being left behind, and yet somehow still getting older. I also need a lot more sleep than most people and have always had the experience of waking up late or going to bed early, one way or another missing out. All the time I've lost because I can't survive on 8hrs sleep. Most people lose a third of their lives to sleep; I lose half. I miss out on so much, but time doesn't exactly slow down for me to catch up.

That feeling is at its worst now, hitting another milestone birthday, one that means I can no longer even call myself a young adult, and one that comes after a year of sitting around doing fuck all. This past year has pushed all those buttons. I know that it's for a reason and it saves lives etc. If I didn't think that I wouldn't be doing it, I'd just go do whatever I want instead of isolating. But it's still really hard for me. The only things I could do with this time are self improvement. My weight is my biggest insecurity. It's been nearly 5 months since I lost any weight. And not because it stopped bothering me. I'd take either weight loss or not caring - one way or another I just want to feel okay in my body.

Instead I'll just feel old and expired with my weight being another aspect of that. I'm really heartbroken. I guess it really is grief - the thing I've lost that I can't get back is time. I know everyone goes through it at least a little, but I'm really feeling it a lot.

I'm also terrified that lockdown is easing and I'll be able to go see bf. We've both been vaccinated too. I do want to see him. It's been another major difficult thing about this past year. But I'm terrified because I hate my body so much and I don't want anyone to see me. I need at least another month. My hair looks stupid and I need it to grow out at least a little. I need more time on my new skincare routine, which is the only thing that's actually any good right now. And I definitely need to lose at least SOME weight because right now if anyone touched me or looked at my bare stomach I think I'd just cry there and then. I can't drink through my insecurity anymore.

I am not having a nice time right now. I'm really not. I haven't even touched on the other stresses happening both to me and those around me and in my city or country or even globally. Everything is so much. I feel like I'm just in the wrong timeline. Everything is bad. I can't deal

[bigskydreaming]

Thank you again and still for all the help and support! I really truly can not imagine making it through the past couple days without it, considering I spent most of it awake and in the bathroom puking from the constant migraines that come with your head not being happy about its bones not being in the right place. Stress aggravates them, or at least my awareness of them, and because of how little work there is currently and how expensive being broke and disabled in LA is, let’s just say, there’s been stress, lol.

I’m feeling a bit better today, or at least I’m making myself pretend that and act like that since I’ve got another appointment at that clinic where I get my juicy and tasty IV bags of nutrients pumped into me since I barely even CAN eat, physically, which combined with the lack of sleep and the nausea, like, also not a great combination.

So, I mean it when I say your donations and support have absolutely been invaluable, everything from a couple dollars to an anonymous message, like, its all amazing and appreciated and invaluable. Yeah. I already said that, whoops, anyway, BUT I DIGRESS.

That’s about all of an update I have there, lol, so in other news, I should be around more today since like I said, I’m feeling a bit better and have possibly plateau-ed on this latest pain level. (My super-annoying superpower....ever since I was a kid I’ve been able to adapt to increases in pain like a pro. As in, being able to manage/function despite it. Course, I still feel it, but give me a day or two to adjust to a new norm in how much my body hates me currently, and then I can power through).

So, like I said, I should be around more today, and I’ll probably be random as hell. Like I’ve mentioned before, my blog is where I spew literally everything from inane thoughts to fandom feels, since its like.....my only social outlet these past couple years and the only way I get to interact with people who aren’t doctors. Expect no pattern in topics until I find whatever sticks and keeps me focused on it enough to serve as a distraction from, y’know, the broke body and broke bank account.

SO! Absolutely feel free to hit me up about anything and everything. ESPECIALLY if you’ve made a donation or sent me something. Like, I know some people who have sent money don’t even follow me or know me at all and are just generous spirits who saw my post somewhere, but for any of you who have sent any kind of support just cuz you like, like me and my rambles, lol, totally feel free to drop into my messages even on anon and say what kind of posts or content from me you really engage with and would love to see more of. I can’t make any promises or guarantees, unfortunately, given I didn’t expect or plan on crashing so hard these last couple days, bleh, and just....literally, like, writing more of the kind of stuff or posts people who have helped me stay alive is pretty much the only way I have of kinda giving at least something back, so I mean, I am happy to pounce on anything in that direction. 

Again, just can’t make any guarantees given how unpredictable my life is and depending on how many people send requests or prompts or messages, etc, but I don’t delete anything of that nature and I usually get back around to stuff EVENTUALLY. For instance, I’m REALLY hoping to finish up two one-shots today, one that’s focused on Duke, Dick and Cass from that prompt you sent me a couple weeks ago, @zee-gee, and the other uh.....that umm, TW/X-Men fusion you commissioned way longer ago than my pride will allow me to admit in public @camelotpark, lol. And like, those posts you see me making to @russianspacegeckosexparty about the changelings project I talk about a lot, like.....Adam basically just sends me random thoughts and prompts about it all the time, and its like a running thread that’s easy for me to pick back up and sink into whenever I see a new one in my inbox and I’ve got enough spoons at the moment to dig in.

Also have a couple other things I want to respond to today while I have the energy and a destined-to-be-longer-than-it-needs-to-be meta about Dick’s positioning in narratives with various other characters and WHY I think it so usually works out that way, and I’m aiming to keep that more like....musing-esque than rant-errific, but uh, let’s see how that actually goes, lmfao.

Anyway, that’s what I have in mind for today, aside from my going to get my IV buffet at ten and emailing and calling people from listings about rooms to rent, but tbh, I might just end up being even more random and sporadic than usual, if I can’t focus on any of those long enough to stay sufficiently distracted today. (Like, my other annoying superpower as long-time followers have heard before, is my ridiculously fast metabolism. I know, “oh no, I’m so skinny, poor me,” but like....its never been about weight gain or loss for me, its about how fast my body processes various medications, meaning pretty much every painkiller I’ve ever tried is largely useless to me, or at most wears off in a couple hours.....whereas my ADHD meds actually provide me MORE relief from the pain than any of them. Basically, they let me actually focus on something OTHER than pain and not get interrupted/distracted by the occasional pain spike that likes to remind me its there and wants my attention......so I mean, I still feel everything that comes with my head being physically out of whack, but for the hours vyvanse is working for me, coupled with some heavy duty pain meds, I can like.....just sorta....not care about it for awhile. Like, it hasn’t gone away but its more shoved to the back of my mind at least. And all of that, I’m happy to stuff in a closet whenever I can, lol).

And that’s enough rambles for this post, I think. LOLOLOL, as if I have a quota. But yeah. Just wanted to express how much your support has meant and continues to mean, and like.....I’m still here and alive and crossing fingers that I’ll hear about an actual surgery date soon, but in the meanwhile like......I’m kinda stuck in a perpetual Limbo, one that’s largely confined to whatever is in hobbling distance from my bed of the day, and as much as donations help me physically, in remaining able to at least stay that way, just, any and all interactions on here help by keeping me engaged with the world on at least some level, and make it so I have stuff to think or talk about beyond my own situation and how I’m not a super huge fan of that.

(Okay, I shouldn’t say any and ALL interactions are appreciated, since I have my fun little runs of anon hate in my inbox, but I mean, all of the above is why they’re not really a big deal to me and never have been. Its like, dude, my own body has been trying to take me out for the past three years, and you think a few insults from an anonymous stranger are gonna do the trick? LOLOL, please. Tbh, the only real negative effect anon hate has on me is that it makes me a bit more snappish and quick to assume the worst than I’d like, when people @ me in a way that I misread as aggressive or in bad faith. I’m aware that my day-to-day temperment is a lot more irritable and open to fights than I usually like to be, as self-control is kinda a big deal to me, and my situation and stress and other shit kinda keep me constantly operating at a level best described as itchy, and none of that is an excuse for any times I read an interaction wrong and go for the throat. I just mean like.....I’m a very blunt and straight-forward person, and I do appreciate when people take a similar approach to me as it really helps keep those misreads to a minimum. Any time someone wants to engage with me in some way, I promise I am SO much easier to talk to if you just....put it out there, whatever it is. Its the games people play online (and in real life) that just frustrate the hell out of me and...yeah. Again, I’m not saying any of that as an excuse or a request for a free pass any time I fuck up an interaction or cross a line, I’m just saying, if anyone’s held back on interacting with me because they think I might snap at them or mistake it for them trying to start a fight, like......just be direct with me. Honestly, thats just....always gonna be more productive when it comes to me.)

But yeah. So that’s the current state of me and all that jazz. Again, I so appreciate everything everyone’s done to support me, not just these past couple days but over the course of these past three years as well. I notice and remember all of it, and its why even though I rant and complain and am critical about so much in society and fandoms and all that.....I really truly am a believer in the idea that there’s more good in people and the world than bad, and the bad just tends to be louder is all. It was especially loud for me the last couple days, the volume got way jacked up, but the goodwill from you guys has been more than enough to drown it out and give me some reprieve.

Alright, shutting up now. All done. The end.

[doberbutts]

 Okay so this is going to get long and more than a little bit tmi but it’s a post summing up some strides I’ve made regarding my own transgender journey and I wanted a place to talk about it and maybe help some BabyTrans figure themselves out along the way so I’m putting it under the cut but it’ll go here >:V

Anyway long story short my insurance settlement from my car accident finally figured itself out and I found myself suddenly $30k richer and immediately spent about $10k of that digging myself out of a very deep debt hole I’ve been wallowing in for a while so now I have some actual financial stability plus have some money to throw at some things that would probably make my life a bit better.

And since I have the money to throw at some things, I bought myself a few new binders and also a packer. Binders because my old one was literally disintegrating- part of that is my fault, washing binders in an industrial machine on high heat plus throwing it in the dryer means your binder falls apart faster than it should. Remember I’m from the very end of Ye Olden Days of transmasc products, which means previously most binders lasted a year at most. My binder made it 2.5 years before giving up and becoming a sports bra instead. I’ve learned from my mistakes and treat my binder(s) much more gently now, plus I have more than one so I can rotate them out and not wear the same binder 8-12 hours daily for 2.5 years and kill it doing exactly the same shit.

For reference sake, I’m 5′10′’, 180lbs, 36C bust, and fit a XL from gc2b. Which is who I bought both my previous binder and my current set from. They are low cost, lightweight, well made, and LGBT-owned and operated which makes me super into buying from them instead of some of the other companies offering something similar.

Being that I am biracial and finding something my skintone is always somewhat... interesting... I followed the internet’s suggestion and went with PeeCock for the packer. I’d bought a zip binder from them a few years ago and actually found that to be the most comfortable binder I’ve ever used in the history of ever, but I will say the durability of zip binders is low compared to pull-over binders in my experience, as the zipper exploded one day when I bent down to pick up a small dropped item. I’d had the binder and was rotating its use with my pullover gc2b for about 6 months when this happened, and was in public when I went from flat chested to big uncontained tiddies in the span of seconds. Not great. I’ve been told that probably means it was a little too small for me, but PeeCock is a company based in Singapore, and their sizes like most East Asian clothing do run quite a bit small (I was a XXL in PeeCock sizes when I wore a size L gc2b binder) so there’s not really a lot of wiggle room for me to go up in size. Additionally their sizing taps out at XXXL so anyone who’s bigger than me in the chest/torso is a bit out of luck for their binders. A shame, because that zip binder was so comfortable I fell asleep in it forgetting I even had it on more than once.

Anyway. Since I did like that binder even though we had the wardrobe mishap, and the internet had pretty good reviews on the PeeCock packers because they are multifunctional and actually make correct skin tones for black dudes, I got one. Since money wasn’t an issue I did get the most recent model which was not cheap (~$300) and so far I like it a lot. I got so used to wearing it that when I take it off to clean it, it actually really bothers me. The weight of it is... comforting, in a way.

HOWEVER I did see a bunch of reviews about how I would be super likely to pee on myself the first time using it and then used it and went “wow I don’t have any idea what you guys are talking about this is easy” aaaaand... then peed on myself by accident. Gotta control your stream or things are going to overflow and you’re going to be really sad. And wet. And stinky. Thankfully I had the forethought to practice at home before actually doing this at work/public restrooms but be warned. Being that this is my first one I can’t say if this is common with all packers however I told several of my transmasc friends that do pack and use STP about this experience and they all assured me they did the exact same thing on and off for the first couple weeks and most of them do not have the same brand. We’ve yet to have a repeat at least?

Plus there’s a little attachment rod so I can use it for sexy times with the boyf and also feel what I’m doing to him so there’s that too. 10/10 A+ experience would recommend. The packaging warns you to be careful how you pack because of the way the silicone works, and your partner cannot be on top or ride you, so keep that in mind if you’re considering it. Cleaning is pretty straightforward however and packing feels correct and natural as long as you follow a few rules:

I’ve discovered that whatever size you consider a perfect fit? Unless you like really relaxed fit for your pants, you’ll need to go a size up. I wear tighter clothing and usually skinny jeans at that, and my exact perfect size has been 34/32 for some time now. When packing I need to go up to 36/32 because otherwise wow that crotch is way too tight. I can’t sit down in one of my pairs of jeans and I’m legit sad about it. I also can’t have anything in the pockets of a different pair of jeans or else I have the same tight crotch problem. I went up a size in underwear and that was more comfortable, so I ordered new pants from online and I’ll see if that helps as much as I’m expecting it too.

Speaking of underwear, ymmv, but I genuinely did not expect this. Jockstraps? Super comfy, super durable, and super convenient. Additionally unlike boxers or even briefs, I don’t need a special packing-specific design to be comfortable in one. I never wore one before and honestly this doesn’t even feel like wearing underwear. They’re really just a banana hammock anyway so that’s probably a large part of it, but honestly I would definitely recommend trying them if you haven’t yet. I do have a few pairs of packing briefs and boxers, as well as normal briefs and boxers, and I’ve been alternating between the various types of undies to see which ones I prefer, but I already know my decision so I bought several because I can. One word of advice, though... if your pants ride down understand that your entire butt will be out. I don’t wear low rise pants because they draw too much attention to my waistline and make me super dysphoric, but those that do, watch out.

Jockmail is highly rated and multiple transmasc websites recommend them for packing and I can absolutely see why. Usually the waistband of my underwear irritates my skin and so I was dubious because Jockmail stuff- being that it’s for athletic wear- has a minimum waistband of about 2in... but it’s actually more comfortable and less irritating, rather than the other way around. They also have briefs, boxers (more like short shorts), and boxer briefs, which I also have of the same brand, but... not as comfy. Once again Jockmail is a Hong Kong company so like all East Asian clothes, they run small. I’m a M in most men’s clothing sizes... I am XXL in Jockmail. I also had purchased a brief harness from PeeCock (goes by inches for waist) as well. (Also where I discovered you need to go a size up- I bought a 34in waist brief from PeeCock and it’s a tad tight. I bought a 36in waist brief from Jockmail and it’s perfect. I have been buying 34in waist things for the past few years now- I didn’t suddenly gain 2 inches at the waist, I did suddenly gain a need for a deeper crotch)

If you look down your body from above it will be super obvious that there is a dick there and you will go “oh god I look like I have an erection”. I have been reliably informed that it is actually not true and if you pack correctly a bulge will be there but not so obvious that it looks like you have a raging hardon the whole time. Better to look in the mirror, rather than down your tummy.

(Additionally I voiced my doubts to my boyf who immediately reminded me that most people don’t spend their time staring at someone’s crotch and as long as I wasn’t constantly messing with mine, no one was likely to notice even if I did have an obnoxiously obvious bulge. He then gave me some tips on how to let it hang if I wanted a “natural” look, and when we walked around while I had it on he made sure to check in on my mental health. He’s cute y’all.)

Some (cis) guys will have a specific leg they like to let things hang against. Some switch it up. Some are okay with it hanging straight down provided there’s not a lot of squish happening. Find what feel comfortable and needs the least amount of adjustment for you, and then stick with that. For me, I’ve found straight down or off to the left feels better- a friend of mine prefers off to the right, another straight down only, etc. Also can depend on the size- some (cis) guys I know are a bit smaller down below and are more comfortable with straight down than those with larger weiners.

If you pack you probably need to shave. I was very uncomfortable until I shaved. Now I feel much better packing. So trim that jungle or else you might feel a pinch every few minutes when a hair gets pulled.

And there you have me this morning before I got dressed. As you can see, both fit very nicely. I’m not particularly happy with my stomach or feminine hip set but eh, I cover those with layers and no one bats an eye.

At this point it’s figuring out the whole hormones thing, yelling at my insurance to cover certain surgeries, and... fixing some minor details with my wardrobe... and I’m feeling way more confident than I was a few years ago.

Anyway if anyone has questions feel free to hit me up

[marblehornets52]

I may as well post this just to get this off my chest, but I doubt anyone would have the time to actually want to care about this.

In my old blog, @rynxs-blog, literally you can't miss the description. I have autism/asperger's. While it's not so bad, I'm just making this post because, I guess I just want it out of my head.

Maybe 6th grade or so, I guess, my ex, was supposedly stalking me and it took until 7th grade for anything to happen. 7th grade (she was in 8th grade btw so one year ahead of me, keep that in mind) we started dating. I will admit, I was a little shithead back then [as in, VERY CRINGE FUELED] so with that being said, I didn't want to acknowledge my autism or my problems back then. I was 50% extrovert and 50% introvert.

I, however, never told anyone about the autism because it felt more of a insecure thing. No one back then, as far as I saw, in the middle school, had autism. Few years later I come to realize they were just hidden among the crowd. But that's not exactly what this is about.

Back then, I was a shithead. Never did my work yet somehow managed to go past both 7th and 8th grade. I still remember that the main reason was because when I was moving into 8th grade, my ex went to high school.

Now you might be wondering "so what's the big deal? You still like her or something?"

That was the answer back then, and honestly I don't know why I decided to go on ahead and reach out to her to see if she remembers.

Another question that might pop up "Besides the age difference, why couldn't you just see her normally?" or even "Why are you making that relationship such a big deal right now?"

1. My mom is [somewhat] a hardcore Christian and when I told her about the relationship, she kinda went haywire about it, specifically how it's against God commandments or whatever the fuck she told me. Even though she said she didn't mind people being gay yet when I come up with it "ThAt'S nOt ChRiStIaN lIkE." Also if your wondering about the dad, he's a marine, he would've killed me back then if he realized I was dating before the age of 18.

2. Because I was so stupid back then, we used to have wattpad [she deleted it] and I made a new account and started talking to her there. But I didn't reveal it was me until after. But what made me start to have more problems [that's gonna come in soon] is that she literally told me that she didn't even remember me. I could've just left it off as her moving on, I could've left it with me just a unimportant person in people's lives...but I just decided to remind her of everything and sooner or later, after 8th grade, I finally made it.

I told my friend group that I didn't want them to follow me when I am with my ex. Not because I was selfish but because she was going to introduce me to people I never met [who ended up turning up with vapes and soon smoking (I never smoked.)]

She had me so isolated from literally everyone I knew, just staying in one specific area of the school. If I tried to leave, she would chase after me and drag me back. I (still being a idiot) thought it was cute so I did that for awhile. Though it changed when my friends came along.

When they saw me hanging out with my ex, they came to the group. At the time I didn't mind since they gotten along with everyone till they decided to start vaping.

[Side note: While that was happening I got a betta fish named Ninja; I rescued him from a shitty pet shop and I did so much for him. I miss him greatly now, he has indeed passed away and he does contribute to the story.]

So with that being said, when I was in Sophomore year, I started sensing stuff being off. I wasn't allowed to leave anywhere without permission, if I was watching a video and just randomly smiled or giggle I would have to show my ex what I was seeing; otherwise she would force the phone out of my hand to see for herself, I told her about my autism and yet she still didn't even mind to acknowledge it and just blatantly forget it until I remind her again. She wouldn't let me go interact with everyone else, always trying to give me so much affection to the point where it was just a blank feeling. Whenever I would cry or whatnot, there was nothing she would do except just ask this "Stop crying please" + "Not even for me?" If I didn't give her a response. [Btw, if you ever tell me "Not even for me?" Go fuck yourself. (Sounds harsh but at that point I don't want to keep all of this in mind forever.) But the worst is when I told her about my insecurities. I told her most of it, opening up a bit more. My major one [which is still going on] is my weight.

The school has this BMI chart or whatnot and freshman year I was almost considered overweight instead of healthy. So I told her not I didn't feel comfortable with my own body. I still remember back then, she would pinch my body fat and always tease about it. I would just play the happy little partner and try not to take notice of it.

Though when Ninja passed away, I went through the biggest depression era in my life. I at that point, started to hide in my classrooms. I refused to go out because I didn't want to let anyone see how much of a mess I was. I remembered people thought I must've came back from a funeral or something.

I remembered back then, I wanted to end my own life, simply because [besides depression from the death of Ninja] I thought no one would care about my existence, that no one would notice me missing. But I guess overtime, I started to think back of all the stuff I been through in the relationship and compared it to how it was to my own friend.

[If you are gonna tell me "But it's just a fish, why don't you move on?" I literally told Ninja everything, from insecurities, to frustrations, to ideas. He was a better friend than many people I knew because he would do his best to support me even on his dying breath. Just ti get me better.]

So with that being said, one of my friends [who is not vaping anymore if I can recall] came up to me all pissed off. She told me that my ex had been bawling out her eyes because she assumed I didn't love her anymore. [Yes, me being away, 2 weeks inside classrooms for brunch and lunch, meant I didn't love her anymore.]

So I guess I told her everything (this was in history class btw, not exactly important but most history classes here are like fucking libraries, dead silent so whispering was just considered a regular talking voice.) I accidentally said everything out to the rest of my classmates too and honestly, I was surprised they were shocked. But I guess because I played the "happy life girlfriend" person, that there was nothing wrong with me.

[Another side note: I was in ROTC, and they did this thing called inspections. You wear the uniform you were given (usually utilities) and you wear it the whole day until you go home. Usually on Thursdays unless something happens. But the biggest rules are 1. No boyfriends or girlfriends kissing or hugging and 2. No one is allowed to touch you.]

So with that being said, when I told my friend that I was planning to break up she told me to time it right. So as you could guess, I did it wearing utilities, I told her that I was going to cut off the relationship and I was gonna give her back her stuff.

What I didn't specify was that I broke it off because I didn't want her to feel or even deal with all my emotional problems I had. So I told myself, after 2 years, from that day on, I was not going to let anyone be with me, I wanted to let myself mature more and just not fuck up on another relationship so quick when I'm a emotional wreck.

.

.

.

I thought she would've done the same thing. I thought "Maybe she would take a year or so to move on, maybe see all the mistakes and move on?" Just only to find out 2 months later, her and my best cadet friend were dating.

So, I want to say that, yes, I'm happy for her I guess...made such a fast recovery or whatnot. But it felt like a big ol FUCK YOU to me, mostly because it just confirmed one of my insecurities I told her "I don't want to be forgotten, I don't want to be forgotten by everyone." Yet it already seemed bad enough that because she pulled me away from everyone, no one really cared about my existence, they wouldn't notice if I was missing, and that I really was the biggest mistake in everyone's lives. Even you, the person reading this, may as well scroll past this and not give a shit.

But if you want my honest opinion, I wanted to just tell my friend to not make the same fucking mistakes like me.

My insecurities have not been recovered, only worsen. My birthday was not too long ago, 2 days ago actually, and I honestly thought about ending it then and there.

If anyone just wants to talk to me or whatnot, not by trying to support me because of this post but because I guess there is something more to it, go ahead.

If you want to go ahead and talk to me, either to check up on me, that's fine.

But if people would just listen to everything I have, even the dark moments I...ah..

...Thank you.

I'm sorry that you just hate me more now, and I'm sorry I cause so much trouble just for this.

I just wanted people to know how I was doing I guess...so....

How was your day?