#also don’t even worry about being late i will probably make something a week later for my own event LOL

[ashe-smash]

Baby Talk | Chapter 2: Ovulation Ao3 Piccolo x Reader (Female Reader) Previous Chapter

Tags/ CW: Infertility/Reproductive Incompatibility, Themes of Infertility, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alien/Human Relationships, Namekian Biology, Piccolo has a Diccolo, mention of periods, sex toy usage, egg toy, egg laying?, smut, fingering, oral sex (blowjob), PIV sex, emotional sex, roleplay, Breeding Kink Reader is described with hair that can be grabbed, mentions of grief (Later Chapters) Oviposition, Pregnancy, Alien Pregnancy. We're still in the Hurt of the Hurt/Comfort Folks.

Word Count: ~5.3k

You get your period a week later and it sucks. It usually sucks but this time it’s just the awful cherry on top.

There were times in years past when you praised the heavens you even got it at all. Now you don’t even have a reason to worry about it being late which seems extra cruel. Like pressing on a too fresh bruise. Your biology is taunting you by just doing its natural job. You hate to continue stewing on the topic when you and your partner have essentially come to a dead end on it. Do not pass Go, do not collect 200 zenni, no baby- now or ever. 

The worst part is that Piccolo hovers when he returns from training. It’s worse than it usually is. 

“Get over here, you big dork.” You kick off your blankets from the pathetic little nook you’ve created on the couch. 

“You don’t feel well.” Piccolo almost pouts (he’d never admit to it, play it off as his general bluntness.) 

“I’d feel better if my big strong boyfriend came over here and squished me.” You try to entice. 

Worst feeling of all is that he hesitates. You know it’s because he’s worried about you not feeling well- he likes to be helpful when you need him. So enticing him into snuggling up with you means he isn’t quite available like that. 

Admittedly, your relationship has hit a rough patch. Really, not much changes- you’re just sadder.  You’re not sure Piccolo understands abstract grief, if he quite understands grief at all. Sex is a little rocky, but Piccolo’s sex drive kind of depends on yours. He still holds you at night while you sleep and he meditates. 

It’s no one’s fault. Well, you wouldn’t blame Piccolo. 

You decide you need a weekend getaway together. Planning it gives you something to do while you’re too miserable to do anything deemed more important. You can look at beaches and mountains while you’re curled up in bed or the couch while you wait for the pain reliever or heating pad to do its work. You book a cabin for when work isn’t going to be busy and hope the world isn’t exploding or whatever then. 

You also decide to make the weekend as ‘normal’ as possible. You pack Piccolo clothes that aren’t his gi,  even if he’ll probably just end up wearing it anyways and drive to your destination. 

The two of you are settling into your vacation lodging. You’re doing something in the kitchen, probably snacking- Piccolo finds something else to do when you’re eating usually. He starts putting the things you’d packed for the weekend away in the set of drawers in the bedroom. 

Halfway through, he finds a little purple velvet bag he doesn’t recognize. 

Inside is an egg. It’s squishy but still has a bit of firmness to it and is swirled with different shades of green. On the wider side it has a little tail with a loop at the end. 

It’s clearly either a new acquisition or something you’ve never shown him. The latter would be odd, he’d seen a lot of your stuff when you’d moved into him. You even showed him your smutty alien romance books.  “What’s this?” 

Your eyes widen at the toy in his hand. 

“I thought, maybe.” You pause to collect your words, fidgeting a bit. Why are you nervous? “I thought maybe we could try… roleplay?” 

“I don’t think I know what that word is?” 

“It’s like … pretending? But during sex… to make it more interesting?” 

You’ve had to teach him pretty much everything about sex. This is a new one. The squishy egg thing is  still unknown. “So what’s this for?” 

Your cheeks are flushed. “I thought we could … pretend. It goes … in me?” Piccolo cocks his head, appraising the piece of silicone. If his eyes were lighter colored, you’d see his pupils dilate wide.  “It’s a silly idea, we don’t have to.” You say hurriedly. 

Piccolo wraps a hand around your forearm to pull you closer. “Can we try it now?” 

It flusters you for a second. “Yeah, big guy. We can try it now.” 

You need a moment to emotionally prepare yourself and clean up your snack. Plus you had an extra surprise planned for this. Piccolo retrieves extra bedding from the linen closet and makes a “bed”- little more than a nest of pillows and blankets in the main room. He worries about making a mess in the actual bed so this will do. 

You seem nervous when you join him, which is odd for you. You’ve always been the more confident one when it comes to bedroom activities. Even so, you smile at the little bed he’s kneeling in. It’s reminiscent of the beginning of your relationship, when he didn’t have a bed. “I’m not wearing cute undies.” You squeeze your fingers.

“That’s okay.” He doesn’t really care about your underwear choices, getting to see you in anything is great. He’s not particularly a connoisseur of women’s underwear. 

You shrug. “I thought it’d be fun… for this.” 

“You can change if you want.” Piccolo is plenty patient after all. 

“It’s alright… We might need lube though.” You glance back at the bedroom. Before you can go to retrieve it yourself, Piccolo extends his arm to snag the bottle of lube you’d packed in your bag. It’s tossed to the perimeter of the bedding.

“I need help with what I’m supposed to do.” Piccolo holds the little egg carefully between two fingers.

You shake your head. “We can just do the regular stuff. We don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to. Don’t you?” Piccolo cocks his head at you. You bought and packed it to be used right? 

He watches you hesitate, picking at a piece of dry skin on your bottom lip. He pries your hand away before you can make yourself bleed. “I guess I’m just not… ready.” 

“Not ready now or not ready until later?”

You shrug. Piccolo feels like he’s messed up. You’re a planner by nature- you probably had something planned and it’s thrown you off that he’s launched you straight into it. 

He sets the toy down next to the bottle of lube, deciding to forget about it for now. It might get lost in the sheets all together anyways. “Will you come lie down with me? I bet you’re tired from traveling, huh?” 

Before you climb into the little love nest, you shuck off your sweatpants. Your underwear are not as ghastly as you seem to think they are. A simple practical pair. He has a feeling that you had something “sexier” picked out, made of lace and straps. Your bra has been long since shucked off after arriving at your vacation lodging. 

You’re always up for a nice cuddle and he is right, you are tired. He rubs at the base of your neck and you practically purr. Maybe a nap would do you good and you’ll be right and ready after. 

“Lay on your stomach for me?” 

You look at him skeptically, but logically you know your partner isn’t one to cause mischief.  You tuck a pillow under your head and turn over.  

Laying on your stomach, in nothing but a pair of panties. Piccolo’s goal is to make you more comfortable.

He skips your lower half for now- you might need him to work out those muscles after fun times. Although it might be fun to pin you down and make you stretch your leg muscles while you squirm underneath him, Piccolo currently aims to actually accomplish his goal. 

Maybe later though. 

You’re always complaining about your back hurting, usually a result of sitting improperly while you work. You sigh as he works his thumbs into the knots. 

Slowly he works his hands up your back, over each segment of your spine. Piccolo spends the most time on your neck and shoulders. It’s where you’re holding the most tension. You do a very convincing job of enticing him to continue, groaning and sighing. 

Rubs his thumb into the base of your skull. You seem properly relaxed, laying slack in the floor bed. 

Piccolo slides a large hand from the back of your neck to under your jaw. Very gently he lifts your head so you look at him above you. 

“Hey Big Guy.” You smile lazily at him. Anyone else should be far more afraid with his hand around their throat. He ducks down, a little to the side to force you into a kiss. The position of the kiss forces him to drape over you, careful to not squish you too much. “Want me to touch you more?” 

You squirm, arching against him. You like it when he uses his size and weight against you. He’s usually extra careful about it but there are times when he can use it to his advantage. “Y-yeah, Lo.” 

Piccolo thinks you just need him to take the lead  tonight. People outside of the relationship probably assume Piccolo is the more dominant of the two of you. He’s bigger and stronger, he’s the “man.” In some ways it’s true, but more often than not you’re the one guiding the situation when it comes to the bedroom. He yields to you when it’s needed. 

He runs his knuckles over the crotch of your panties. “Here?” 

You nod wordlessly, lifting your hips as a means to entice him further. It’s not like it’s hard either. 

Back in the beginning of your relationship, you were quite concerned about taking ‘advantage’ of the Namekian- despite him being a more powerful being but you being the more experienced person. Tonight, he’s the one making sure everything is on track and fun. 

You lift your hips so he can pull off your underwear, finally leaving you fully naked for him. You’re already wet, not enough but more than your body’s natural wetness. 

He starts slowly, just barely touching you, splitting your folds with the back of his fingers. Clearly you’re pent up from the lack of intimacy in the relationship recently. Now that Piccolo thinks about it, he doesn’t think you’ve had any alone time either. 

Piccolo has learned he’s good with his fingers. It’s not hard to bring you towards release with them. Only very rarely does he deny you of it, but not today.

He might be relatively novice, but he did have a pretty good teacher. Works his fingers in and out of your spasming walls. Tucks his unoccupied hand around your hip and under you so he can rub circles around your clit. The position is a little awkward for that but it’s enough stimulation.  

Lying on your stomach gives him ample access to  the sensitive spot inside you.  He does wish he could see your face better in this position, but you’ve buried it in the pillow. 

He watches you grip at the pillow and the linens beneath you. All those muscles he worked so hard to rub out go tight, tight, tight and then finally, go completely lax. 

When he pulls his fingers out of you, he finds that the fluids left behind are clear and sticky. He unceremoniously wipes it in the bedding. You’re laid slack, trying to catch your breath,  “All done?” Piccolo asks,  rubbing gently where the back of your thigh meets your butt cheek.

It takes a second before you can calm your breathing, or maybe find your voice. You turn your head to look at him, seemingly thinking for a minute. 

“Can I give you a blowjob?” 

Piccolo makes a face. He’s never quite understood the appeal of that. Sure, your mouth is warm and wet like the entrance between your legs but one doesn’t have teeth and doesn’t involve sticking his dick into where you breathe from. You’ve admitted you don’t mind him not particularly liking them. 

But you’re asking to do it, so that must mean you want to. 

“I’m not… out yet.” Aroused yes, but it’s not uncommon when he needs a little extra effort for this part. 

“You know I don’t mind.” In all honesty, his anatomy isn’t too dissimilar to yours when he’s sheathed. It doesn’t quite provide the same stimulation as it does for you, but it does mean you perform similar foreplay acts on him. Usually that’s about as close as he lets you get with your mouth, using your tongue on his slit. 

Like he’s learned how to satisfy you, you’ve learned how to for his body. A little coaxing with your fingers and he slides right out for your waiting mouth. You guide him to grip at your hair, seeming pleased when he takes a good fistful. Bobbing your head with a nod and humming around him. 

Eventually you dare to go deeper, he’d probably barely notice it he couldn’t feel your gag reflex reacting to the intrusion. You’re going slow enough that it’s not a problem. 

It’s hard to keep his hips still. Despite his logical mind being weary of this act, the baser part of his instincts do very much want to grip you by the skull and drive his cock down as far down your throat as it can go. Hard. So he just grips at your hair a little tighter. 

Piccolo thinks you’re doing a very good job at trying to be enticing. At your height difference with this position, you can’t even reach the hilt, but it’s enough. But it’s hard to watch you struggle, even if both of you are seemingly enjoying it. 

“I’m not going to … finish like this.” It feels good, sure, you’re very good at whatever you’re doing with your mouth. Maybe it’s a mental thing. He’s let you have your amusement. 

“You wanna come inside me?” You coo sweetly, continuing to mouth at his shaft. He grunts, tugging your hair again, this time to try to redirect you to the next part. 

A little giggle bubbles out of you, before you flop back into the blankets. If it wouldn’t mean practically tackling you, he would have caught you to make sure you don’t bump your head. 

“The toy can’t go in before…” You kind of nod your head. “Maybe after, okay?” 

Piccolo nods. “What else should I do?” 

“Just dirty talk I guess. Say what you wanna do to me with the toy.” Piccolo ponders. He’s never been quite good at that part. “I can help with it, bud.” You add, easing him back into your little love nest. 

You decide to be on top- another uncommon occurrence in your bedroom activities. Piccolo’s hips are hard to accommodate in this position and you don’t always have the endurance in your hips and knees to  keep up with it. The position lets him slip deeper than any of them, the blunt end of his cock nudging against the plug of your womb. Makes you gasp. 

“Too much?” 

You rock against him. “Jus’ gotta get used to it. Can feel you all the way here.” You pet across your lower stomach. 

He should have been more diligent about keeping you stretched out, even if you aren’t actively having sex in recent times. But it really only does take a moment and then you’re putting in a valiant effort to bounce on his cock. 

“You wanna put the egg in me? Deep like this,” you guide his hand to press into the fat of your tummy. “Right here?” 

Oh this is the Roleplay thing. 

A growl rumbles deep from his chest. Your eyes go wide and your hips stutter in response. Then you surge forward to kiss him a little too eagerly and he has to catch you so you don’t smash your face into his. It’d likely hurt you more than him. 

Like this your movements turn more into grinding than bouncing. He flexes his hips to push himself deeper into you. “You want it bad too, huh?” 

“Ye- yeah, Lo.”

He takes the initiative and grabs you to flip both of you over. It makes you squeal in surprise. For a moment, Piccolo loses himself in the fantasy. He almost believes that if he indeed tried hard enough, he could fuck you hard enough that it would take. (If he weren’t mostly concerned about how you feel wrapped around him, he’d wonder where that urge comes from.) 

Piccolo knows you’ll stop him if he’s being too rough. Your fingernails trace the ridges on his arms. They dig in as you try to hang onto him, it doesn’t really hurt as he has thicker skin, but he is aware of the feeling. 

You’re perfect. Warm, tight, clenching around his cock. His partner, mate, whatever. Love of his life. Future mother of his-

It should give him pause, but instead it hits him like a train. “You just gotta come for me big guy.” You lock your legs around him best you can. It should be embarrassing, how easily you can coax him into an orgasm. But how could it be when you’re so very convincing? 

It hits hard, cumming feels like he’s been wrung completely dry. For all the resolve he’s put into training his muscles, now they seem particularly useless. He goes slack on top of you. 

Piccolo is heavy. It’s rare he rests his full weight on top of you to prevent actually squashing you. You like it though. At this moment, he needs it. Needs to stay inside you for a little bit longer, so close there’s no difference between where you end and he begins. 

“It’s not often you’re the one tired out after one round.” You coo, breathily. It’s hard to catch your breath when your giant boyfriend is doing his best impression of your weighted blanket. 

Piccolo's stamina has nothing to do with this, even if it was particularly intense. 

You shiver a little when Piccolo pulls out, unplugging your entrance and letting his fluids dribble out of you. It’s noticeably a lot more than usual- clear evidence of the lack of intimacy between you two as of late. 

You whine at the feeling, attempting to clamp your legs together. Or maybe because your boyfriend is openly staring at your pussy. The evidence of his climax is clear as day. “You didn’t come.” 

You shrug half heartedly. “I was close.” You once explained to him, sometimes it just doesn’t happen. That’s probably especially true when your partner comes embarrassingly fast. “We weren’t supposed to be done after you’re finished.” 

You half roll over to rifle through fabric, procuring the items deposited there. The little toy- the egg and the lube. It’s a little bigger than a chicken egg. “I can do it if you don’t want to.” No, he definitely wants to do it. 

“I can do it.” 

You give him a little nod. Reassurance for you or him, he’s not sure. “Just push it in gently with your fingers. Not too deep, I don’t want to struggle getting it out.” 

Some sick part of Piccolo does like the idea of that. Maybe a larger one, that you have to push and push and push to free it from your body. It slides in easily with some lube and the mixture of your fluids. He watches you clench around the silicone toy. 

“How does it feel?” If he pressed his fingers into the flesh of your pubic mound, he could probably feel it inside of you if he pushed hard enough. That’d probably be uncomfortable so he just caresses there firmly. 

You whimper, your hips twitching to meet his fingers. “It’s just kind of a pressure. Feels full- Good job, you did a good job.” 

Piccolo’s cock twitches to life again, it hasn’t sheathed yet. That feral feeling has twitched to life again too. Hauls you into his lap so he can notch against your hole. 

“Careful!” Your hips jump a little, he’s not sure if you’re trying to retreat or seek more stimulation. 

He cocks his head at you. “We gotta… complete the goal, right? Can’t just put the egg in you.” He keeps a hand splayed across your pelvis. You whine, head bobbing a little. Your eggs have to be fertilized. It doesn’t make sense- he doesn’t even produce sperm. Piccolo knows he can’t penetrate you now, you told him such and he knows how to listen. “I won’t go in, just… close enough.” He pushes against your folds. It’s slick and you’re just getting wetter. 

He can't help but be entranced by the way you clench around the toy. That must be the point of the toy, to put pressure on your g-spot without actual penetration. The simulation of a part of his own biology is just an added bonus. He wonders if you could keep it inserted throughout the day another time. Will you want to use the toy again? Or is it just for this special occasion? 

Your back bows more and more while he rubs practiced circles against your clit.  Gently, he pushes his fingers back into you to press the toy harder against your walls. He's being careful, keeping the little tail tucked between them. “Do a good job for me too. Come for me .” You whine again. Now that he’s got his fingers inside you he can feel it, clenching tight tight tight. Keeping an even pace with his other hand around your bud. 

“Wait-” You cry but it's already too late. The wave comes crashing over you and with it a tidal of fluids gushing out of you. “Oh shit-” 

Piccolo pushes forward and replaces his fingers inside you with his cock, not in- just enough that the blunt head is pushed in a little. You struggle to find purchase somewhere to hold on, but it does prove helpful as you touch all over his shoulders and arm and chest.  All it takes him is one and then two firm strokes of himself and his own wave comes crashing over him. 

“Good job.” He groans as he rides through his own second orgasm. You shiver when he pushes himself through your folds once again. He rewards you with kisses pressed to your face. 

Piccolo rolls off you this time- sparing you the full body contact. You cross your arms loosely over your chest, he watches it heave as you come back to your brain. Gives you a minute or two before he sits himself up to move on to the next part.  “Are you going to lay here for a while?” 

You roll over a little, cringing at the feeling of the cooling fluids between your legs. It's all over you honestly. “We should clean up- I gotta get this thing out of me first, it can’t stay in for too long.” 

“Do you need help with that part?” He did put it in after all, he could have pulled it out when he had his fingers in you before. That might have proved to be unsatisfactory at the moment however. 

“No it’s easy enough to remove- it’s why it’s got the tail. I just gotta-“ You roll over fully so you can sit up. You wobble a bit, your legs and hips and likely your whole body turned to jello. 

Piccolo wraps a strong arm around your shoulders to steady you. You make a noise somewhere between a hum and a groan, knocking your forehead against his shoulder. “Dizzy?” 

“A little.” 

“Take your time.” He can hold you for as long as you need. 

You take another moment before reaching between your legs. You’re trying to take it slow, either prolong the feeling or delay the ending all together. Maybe next time you’ll let him feel you doing it, or even do it himself.  You grunt a little. He hears a soft pop as you pull the toy out of your entrance. 

You pull your face away from where your forehead rested against his shoulder. There are a few wet lines running the lengths of your cheeks. You’re crying. “Did that hurt?” Piccolo thumbs at a fat tear. 

You jerk back, like you’ve been startled. “No, it’s fine.” Your voice betrays you, cracking. You turn your face away, hiding it as you wipe away the tears. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“S’nothing, it just happens sometimes. Hormones or something.” You shrug. You’ve never cried after sex before, not with Piccolo at least. Maybe a tear or two that escapes during pleasure, but not like this. 

“You’re really okay?” You nod with your face hidden in your hands. “… you’ll feel better if we get cleaned up. Do you want a bath, shower?” You probably feel pretty gross. 

You deflate. “Not right now.” 

Piccolo resorts to picking you up to go to the  bathroom. Lets you use the toilet in private while he retrieves clean things for you both. Forgoes any of the pajamas you’d packed for yourself and picks out one of his shirts instead. His clothes usually end up in your wardrobe eventually, although it has grown significantly since the two of you started dating. He also grabs a bottle of water from the fridge. 

He hears the sink running when he returns. Steam billows up from the faucet, indicating you let the flow heat up. You just stare at it. 

Piccolo picks you up again, setting you on the counter which makes you shiver. Puts the bottle of water in your hands. “I’m sorry.” He’s partially apologizing for you being cold, but maybe also the other stuff. 

You shake your head. “Not your fault. I thought it’d be fun.” 

You don’t seem particularly motivated to actually get to the task at hand: cleaning yourself up. It’s alright, he can do it. 

He’d seen you fish your toiletries bag out of your luggage when the two of you’d first arrived. First, he turns down the temperature of the water to wet a washcloth. Hands it to you with some of your face wash deposited on the cloth. Hopefully it will help calm some of the splotchiness on your face from crying. 

Rinses the cloth thoroughly after you hand it back. He only lets you clean your face since it’s easier, he has big hands and doesn’t particularly want to poke you in the eye. To help, he does a diligent job of wiping between your legs. “You didn’t enjoy it at all?” 

Your eyes go wide- for a second he thinks you might start crying again. “I did- it felt good- I just-“ You’re not close enough to starting your period again for you to be feeling like this. Cracked open like an egg, raw.

“Shh, deep breath. I’m not upset.” Piccolo smooths a big hand over the side of your face. He’s just worried he pushed a boundary he didn’t quite know existed. 

You lean into him, which is a good sign that you’re not upset or uncomfortable by him. “The sex was fine. I just-” you worry your bottom lip with your teeth for a second. “I thought we could find satisfaction with the toy.” 

“I pushed you to use it before you were ready.” 

“I’m the one who bought and packed it. I thought I’d be fine with playing and then I had to-  I didn’t think it through all the way, Lo.” You sigh. Piccolo rubs your temple. He’s only so good at the soothing part.

“We’ve been naked too long.” You grumble, pushing off the counter after a few minutes of silent comforting.  You go grab a dry towel. He watches you in the mirror as you dry off. He cleans himself and washes his hands, you set to work on putting your clothes. Well you pick them up from where he set them on top of the toilet. 

“You know I’m not just… sad right?” You fiddle with your underwear. “I’m trying not to be but it’s not just being sad. It’s grieving, but not like if I lost something or someone. Like I’m grieving something I’ll never know.” 

Piccolo doesn’t know what to say. 

“It’s okay if you don’t understand.” You’re idling to put your clothes on still, so he’s able to pull his pants on before you even step into your underwear. 

You’re used to this part in your relationship. Sometimes Piccolo needs time to process and learn what things actually mean. Right now it feels like it’s never been this severe. 

He pulls his shirt from your grip, deciding to let you put your underwear on.  Maybe he’s letting you keep that boundary, even if that really doesn’t make much logical sense. Pulling it over your head for you. 

You decide to skip the underwear all together once you stick your arms through the sleeves. “I’m going to go to the bedroom, okay?” 

Piccolo follows, much like he always does.

“You can go out if you want.” You tuck yourself into the duvet on the bed. You’re likely going to take a post sex nap. You were ready to have a good cuddle and take a nap before everything. The emotions probably didn’t help on that front either. 

Piccolo frowns. You’ve been offering that more, letting him leave when you’re planning on resting or even just sleeping at night. It was fairly common in the beginning of your relationship. Back then he didn’t always hold you when you slept, but he did often stay with you at least.

He knows he’s absolutely going to not do that. He slides into the bedding with you. Slots a thick thigh between yours and wraps his arms around yours. His fist settles against your sternum so he can feel your heartbeat. His other arm pillows your hands head, you give his palm a kiss before you interlock your fingers with his. 

The position forces you to settle, like he’s wrestled you into a nap. Instead of following suit and closing his eyes, Piccolo watches you as you lie in his arms. 

“Bud, you know I can’t sleep if you’re staring.” 

“Sometimes, I miss you. But not because I haven’t seen you, I miss you like you’re… gone.” There will be someday when he will never see you again. Piccolo will outlive you and he’s never realized that's what he’s feeling. 

You’re feeling that for something, someone who will never exist. 

“I wish… I could give you an …egg? Maybe just a baby, I guess.” He’s decided to try a new game of Pretending.  

You’re silent for a moment. “You’re lucky I don’t mind, that's as weird as it sounds.” You make a plucking motion at him, pretending to eat something. “How would that even work? Swallow it and puke up a baby?” 

It wouldn’t. It’s not possible anyways but he lets you entertain it.  Maybe he is too. 

“… I think you’re the weird one.” 

“Alright, Green Bean.” 

Piccolo pinches your thigh, makes you giggle. “I thought you were napping?” Ignore the fact he’s the one who is keeping you up to begin with. 

You yawn. “I wish … we had takeout.” 

“I can get it for you.”

“I want it to just magically appear though!” You make a tiny pinching motion with your fingers again. “You should make a tiny set of dragon balls- for the silly things. Like the size of marbles.” 

“Ours are the smallest set. You do know they aren’t always used for serious stuff.” 

“For Chinese food though?” 

Honestly, the dragon balls have been used for less for serious stuff- like resurrection of people or planets and more for things like Bulma’s cosmetic alterations,  woman’s panties. Piccolo shrugs. “I guess probably not that.” 

“See! We need tiny ones, maybe there’d only be like… four. The dragon could be … a snake. Wait then they’d be snake balls.” 

Piccolo rolls himself over onto his back, still keeping you close. “I need to meditate to forget this conversation.” 

You snort. Your silly little game (annoy your boyfriend for your own amusement) has been won, even if you were the one playing it. He sees you open your mouth to say something again, but covers your mouth before you can. “Nap.” 

You settle again now that your mood is lighter. Still a little sad, but you might always be. You silently decide that next weekend trip or getaway will probably include Pan. 

[hamiltonaf]

Hi bestie, can i request how lewis would help you when you have insomnia? Mine is really a pain in the ass this week, could use a distraction

Night Owl | Lewis Hamilton

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello loves ! Apologies for the delay in writing requests…I fell really ill over the week and was so out of writing :( but I’m back. Thanks anon for requesting, I hope you enjoy. Requests are still open .xx

Another night that I found it hard to sleep. It was like this for over a week because of stress and anxiety. I don’t even have anything to stress about, it’s just how my mind works when my brains thinks I have so much to do and I won’t complete everything I want to do in time.

It wasn’t that big of a deal to sleep at early hours of the morning all alone because I didn’t have Lewis with me so I’d wake up late. However, now that Lewis is around, I feel the need to sleep and wake up at a normal time so that we could do more things together as a couple since I hardly see him anyway.

Once in a while I’ll experience an adrenaline rush in the middle of the night and I’m so full of energy, I could literally eat a whole meal, probably even host my own fake concert and I still wouldn’t be tired till around 4 or 5am.

I joined Lewis and his family for the start of the summer break before Lewis was off on his boys trip. I was over the moon to see Lewis after a whole 2 weeks. Doesn’t seem that long but felt like a lifetime for me.

We spent the day with the family catching up and playing with Kaiden and Willow. We played countless rounds of Uno and spent most of our time out in the sun. Watching Lewis with kids and spending time with him had me thinking about him leaving on his boys trip soon - anxiety trigger because the thought of us being apart again soon.

I swear I’m not selfish… we video call everyday and I physically see him every weekend or every second weekend, but with our schedules clashing I can’t even spend time with him when I’m free because I’m working. Race weekends also fly by so quickly, before you know it, it’s already Sunday and I’m on a flight back home whilst he takes a flight to another race.

I just would’ve wanted to spend some more time with him during this summer break and it could make up for the lost time.

I didn’t even realise I was daydreaming until Lewis snapped his fingers in front of me. “We’re at the hotel… you’ve been so quiet for the past 15 minutes. Is everything okay ?” He asked softly. “Oh yeah. Uhm everything is fine… don’t worry” I faked a smile and exited the car. He followed behind me back to our room, it was quite evident to Lewis that I wasn’t my usual self. When we reached our room, he grabbed me by my hand and pulled me flush against his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay ? You seem off. Is something bothering you ?” He raised a brow.

“I’m fine really” I gave him a soft smile then pecked his cheek. Just as I was about to leave his grasp, he held me tighter. “Babe I can literally tell when you’re lying. You pull that fake smile on me when something is bother you” he pointed out. I immediately felt embarrassed. “What ? No” I scoffed and giggled. “And you do that as well” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Okay well I’m not in the mood to discuss it right now, maybe later” I trailed as I pecked his lips and walked over to the bathroom. I had a shower and to my surprise, Lewis had fallen off to sleep. I on the other hand was full of energy, but might as well try to sleep.

I got into bed and cuddled up close to him. In hopes I would fall off to sleep, unfortunately I was too restless and ended up turning from side to side. I know he’s a light sleeper and I felt bad at the thought of him waking up because of me. A whole hour of trying to sleep and I gave up. I jumped out of bed and went to our lounge to watch something to pass some time. About half and hour into the movie, I got a shock when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

The movie I was watching had me in a depresso mode where I was bawling my eyes out. “Oh my- love are you okay ?” He asked concerned. “Oh my god. Babe you scared me” I screamed as I placed a hand on my heart. “Didn’t mean to scare you, if anything, you scared me… why did you leave me alone in bed ?” He pouted as he jumped over the couch to sit right next to me. “I can’t sleep” I sighed. “No worries, I can help” he smiled. “Lew it’s not one of those nights where I randomly can’t sleep, I have insomnia. It’s much harder to sleep when you’re an insomniac” I pouted and laid my head on his shoulder. “Well what’s keeping my girl up ? You didn’t tell me earlier, I wanna hear it from you now because I’m concerned” he said as he turned to look at me.

“Okay don’t take this the wrong way. My brain overthinks the smallest of things, when normally I couldn’t care. We’ll blame it on some chemical reaction on my brain, maybe lack of serotonin I think-“ he cut me off. “Babe. You’re rambling. Calm down. Deep breaths and tell me straight up how you’re feeling” he smiled as he cupped my face. “Look, you know how much I love you and it hurts me how little we see each other. My mind for some odd reason isn’t its normal self because all my mind thinks about is how little time we actually spend together …” I said embarrassed. “Look I’m all for you going on your boys trip, but I had to be honest with what’s on my mind” I gave him a soft smile.

“Aww baby you’re so cute. You want me all to yourself ?” He smirked and raised a brow. “Low-key yes, but no” I said as I then slapped my forehead in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry that sounds so dumb” I covered my whole face with my hands. “Darling, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about” he said as he pulled my hands away from my face and caressed my cheek with his thumb. “I’m just glad you’re honest with me. Sorry babe for hurting you, why didn’t you tell me sooner ?” He cooed. “I thought it was stupid and I was just being dumb” I shrugged.

“Never. Your feelings are valid, always. Consider me all yours for the rest of the summer” he smiled as he pulled me in for a short kiss. “Wait, what ? Lew no ! You can’t not go on your boys trip” I argued. “This is not a debate love” he grinned. “But Lew, you can’t not-“ “End of discussion. Let’s go” he cut me off as he stood up and carried me in his arms towards our bedroom.

“Now I definitely won’t sleep, you’re making me feel awful as if I’m holding you back which I’m really not. My mind is just racing at the thought of how quickly time is going and how we’re barely together, this has nothing to do with your mates by the way because I think they’re all amazing. My brain is just not braining these past few days” I pouted as he laid me in bed and jumped in to cuddle me closer to him.

“Babe just don’t worry about it, that’s the least of my concerns right now” he said as he nuzzled his face into my neck. “Lew !” I groaned. “You need to sleep and I’m doing my best to help put an end to your insomnia” he smiled into my neck as he snaked an arm around my waist. He placed soft kisses along my shoulders before turning me around in his grasp. “I really love you” he smiled. “I really love you too Lew Lew” I felt my cheeks flush as he pulled my face closer and connected our lips.

I felt so at ease in his embrace knowing he’s right with me after quite a while of being apart. I guess all I needed was a goodnight kiss.

[95-6qrsk2rx9uq42069nnnnnjthewolf]

"Princess"

Red Robin has been hanging around Hood like a persistent gnat he can’t swat lately. And sure, they’ve come to an understanding and collaborate frequently on cases. But this isn’t a predetermined meet-up to exchange intel or brainstorm an infiltration. This is Tim dropping in unannounced on a stakeout, or taking out a goon in a brawl that totally wasn’t about to get the drop on him, Hood had it all handled, really. And then the replacement doesn’t leave. Looking over his shoulder while Jason rifles through cargo holds, or ‘tsking’ from some high perch while watching him make a field repair on his gear, all with some vague air of expectancy like he was waiting for Jason to do something.

But he never gives any indication what it is he’s expecting from Jason, or whether or not Jason actually delivered. No rhyme or reason for when he decides he’s done being a nuisance, from what Jason can tell, though he’s sure it's all very precisely timed in Tim's head. 

The thing is, though, that Jason would maybe like to give Tim whatever it is he seems to want. He knows part of it is just how Tim is; the guy would probably have neglected to mention he runs a fortune-500 company if it hadn’t made national news. But he also knows that if you don’t ask for something, nobody can deny you it. He and Tim tend to run their mental gymnastics on a similar course. Probably part of why they get along so well. 

It’s the very same reason why, instead of asking for clear communication, what comes out of his mouth instead is, “You can pout all you like, princess, but that don’t make me any more of a mind reader. The sooner you tell me what you’re after, the sooner I can tell you to fuck off.”

Red Robin pouts even harder and straightens up, and Jason panics for a second that he actually is about to fuck off. A baseless worry though, when there’s still shit for Tim to poke his nose in. His frown only turns into a satisfied smirk as he points out the false wall in the office he’s decided they’re now investigating together.

~~~

Jason’s pretty sure he solves the mystery of what Tim’s after about two weeks later. 

Tim has turned Jason’s couch into a battle station; laptops, photos and files strewn around him. The coffee table is marginally less cluttered thanks to Jason only just having cleared the empty mugs and energy drink cans away. They’d returned from an extremely fruitful bust on a trafficking den that was the product of days worth of prep, and Tim is already picking up where they left off, pulling on the threads that will lead them to the next step up in the operation, not even fully out of his body armor and buzzing off the adrenaline of their success. Jason had barely gotten Tim’s jammed fingers in a splint before a laptop was being booted up and documents updated, dots connected. 

Normally Jason is more than happy to let Tim’s ridiculous brain run ten steps ahead and in five different directions at once; had once watched him solve a different case from the one he was actually working on accidentally. But Tim’s been burning the candle from both ends even more dramatically this week, prepping with him for this bust in the evenings, and dealing with bullshit meetings at his day job (Jason resents being aware of corporate finance calendars). Jason hears the beginning of frustrated grunts and pronounced keyboard clacking as Tim’s fingers start to stumble over one another and he has to delete more words than actually make it into the report he’s writing. 

“Alright, I’m calling it. If you crash here for the night you can get right back to it when you wake up,” Jason offers, like there’s actually any room for debate, sweeping up papers from the couch. And Tim must be even more exhausted than he realized, because he only gets half-hearted grumbling in response.

“You better save whatever you’re working on by the time I come back with blankets or I’m closing that laptop right on your fingers.”

And miracle of miracles, the laptop is already closed and atop the slightly precarious pile on the coffee table when he returns to the living room, Tim horizontal and watching him with pale eyes as piercing as ever, even behind heavy eyelids he can barely keep open.

Jason can’t do anything but drape the sheets over him, make sure he’s fully covered. Can’t help the words out of his mouth, not nearly as teasing as he meant them to be, 

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

And in response he gets the warmest, sleepiest smile he thinks he’s ever gotten from Tim, nuzzling happily into the blanket before he’s fully asleep in seconds flat, leaving Jason to stare and will his heart to not beat out of his chest.  

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: I have nothing to say for myself. The Jummy has been making me feral for the last few days and I had to cleanse myself somehow… so I figured writing smut was the best method for that. (It makes sense to me, don’t worry about it) It starts out a little angsty with Jake being insecure, but don’t worry bc it heats up VERY quickly. As always, sorry for any typos. Also this is probably my most favorite thing that I've ever written so I hope you guys enjoy.

Content Warnings: Fem!reader, body insecurity, body worship, a little bit of cockwarming if you squint, unprotected sex, p in v sex, 18+ MINORS DNI 

Word Count: 3593

Preview: 

“You’re fucking solid, Jake. Powerful. You fuck me so hard. You think someone built like him could fuck me the way you do?” You shake your head. “Wouldn’t even come close. No one can fuck me the way I need it besides you.” 

------------------------

Admittedly, it had taken you a little while to realize that something was off with Jake – far longer than it should have, given how long the two of you have been together. But, in your defense, Jake Kiszka is a master at hiding when something is wrong. 

The first warning sign had been a few weeks ago when Jake had declined going out to his favorite steak restaurant, claiming that he was too tired and that he’d had a late lunch anyway so he wasn’t super hungry. You’d been doubtful, but the two of you stayed in for the night and Jake had distracted you beyond the point of awareness of anything other than his tongue and fingers. He'd fucked you slow and deep that night and needless to say, you’d quickly forgotten about it.

The second came during a dinner with him and his brothers. You, Jake, Sam, Josh, and Josh’s partner had gone out to a local Thai place that all of you loved. You all frequented it regularly and got the exact same dishes every time – which is why you had been confused when Jake ordered something else. You’d looked at him in shock, as did everyone else at the table, but he’d simply shrugged and said that he wanted to try something new. When the food had arrived, you couldn’t help but notice that the dish was much smaller than the one he usually got, but he seemed to enjoy it so you didn’t say anything. Again, you’d allowed yourself to forget about it. 

The third warning (and arguably the most obvious one) happened just two weeks later on an impromptu lake house trip that you all went on. Deciding to enjoy the last bit of time that they had until tours started again, Danny had suggested that you all spend the weekend swimming and hiking at the lake, just like you all used to do when you were younger. It had been a wonderful weekend, and you almost didn’t notice that anything was wrong… almost. 

The first day there had been spent hiking and goofing around inside, but your second day was always reserved for swimming. That morning, as you were changing into your swimsuit, you watched as Jake pulled on his swim trunks; nothing out of the ordinary. But what was strange was that he then put on a swim shirt, hiding his gorgeous torso from view. 

“Why are you putting that on?” You asked, grabbing your towel from where you’d hung it on the bedroom door. 

“I don’t want to get sunburned.” He said, perching his signature sunglasses on his nose. 

You opened your mouth to tell him that he’s never cared about getting burned before (much to your annoyance and worry) but he swiftly left the room. You trailed behind him, staring at his shoulders through the swim shirt and worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You couldn’t tell if he was actually being weird or if you were just overthinking. 

The rest of the trip had gone completely normal, with the boys acting like literal children in the water while you relaxed and sunbathed – occasionally joining them in the lake to participate in their craziness. But no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself you were overthinking, you couldn’t help but worry as you watched Jake in that stupid swim shirt. 

The entire drive home you’d wanted so desperately to bring it up to him, but you weren’t even sure what you were bringing up. Distantly, all those other little warning signs tinkled like little bells in the back of your mind, but you didn’t pay them any mind. Jake was acting completely normal. So what he was too tired to go to dinner one night? And why was it such a big deal that he wanted to try a different dish at a Thai restaurant? And maybe he really did just want to avoid getting sunburnt. And sure, you and him hadn't been intimate since that night he declined going out... but a few weeks wasn't really all that long in the grand scheme of things. Besides, even though it was between tours, Jake was still almost constantly busy with something – photoshoots, interviews, spending time in the studio. He was tired from work (and so were you). Nothing to be worried about. You shook your head at yourself, willing the little ball of anxiety in your gut to go away. 

And it did. Until just two nights later, when Jake asked you to turn the light off before he fucked you. 

“What? Why?” He was looking down at you, palms planted on either side of you and his weight settled on the bed between your thighs. He had on nothing but a plain t-shirt and his boxers. 

“No reason.” He said, reaching over to turn the bedside lamp off, plunging the room into darkness. He sunk his weight back on his heels to pull his shirt over his head before diving back down to attach his mouth to your breasts, suckling and biting at the sensitive buds. His distraction almost worked. 

“Jake, no.” You said, sitting up to stare at him. “Why do you suddenly want to turn the light off while we fuck?” 

“More romantic?” His words came out as a question, but he didn’t give you time to respond as he leant back down, intent on carrying on without explanation. 

“More romantic for me to not be able to see you?” He didn’t answer, instead beginning to place hot kisses down your throat, teasing the spot that he knew you loved. But you weren’t backing down. Not this time. 

“Jake, stop. Just stop.” 

He sat back up and you stared at him, trying to read his face in the dark. 

“You and I both know you’ve been acting weird. I’m not doing anything with you tonight until you tell me what the fuck has been going on with you.” You told him, your tone leaving no space for debate. 

“How have I been weird?” He asked, his voice far too cool and smooth for it to be genuine. 

“For one, you didn’t want to go to the steakhouse the other night. You know, the one you never say no to?”

“Y/n, I was tired. And full from lunch. How is that weird?” 

“You got something different when we went and got Thai with the guys!” You said, voice raising in volume as he kept staring at you like you were crazy. 

“Okay…” He said slowly, like he was speaking to a child. “And is that a crime? Am I not allowed to order something different?” 

“No. But you love that Thai dish that you always get!” Your hands flew about madly as you spoke, all the worry that you had pushed down finally coming to the surface. “And the swim shirt, Jake. You’ve never cared about getting burnt. Like ever. Why did you start caring now? And now you want to turn the light off while we fuck!” You were yelling now but you didn’t care. You were tired of ignoring that something was wrong. You didn’t know what it was – the dots not connecting between all these events yet. But you knew in your heart that something was wrong. 

“Please, Jake. We haven't slept together in weeks... which isn't like us at all! Just tell me what’s wrong so I don’t have to start making assumptions!” You had the inkling of one already, and you were praying that it was wrong. 

He stayed silent for a long moment, and the tension in the room was so thick you could probably cut it with a knife. Finally, his shoulders fell and he dropped his head. His hair fell on either side of his cheeks, framing his pretty face. 

“I’ve just… put on a few extra pounds recently. That’s all. It’s no big deal.” 

You stared, mouth falling open as the horrible assumption that had been plaguing your mind since the lake was confirmed. 

“So?” You asked, genuinely at a loss over him making this such a big deal. 

“So, I need to lose them. And maybe a few more.” You hated how sure he sounded as he said the words, like he’d already given this so much thought –and he clearly has. “I should've done it years ago to be honest."

“Jake, I-” You stopped, overwhelmed and at a loss for what to say. You wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him; scream in his face how wrong he was for feeling so low about his body. 

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s the truth. I’ve let it get too far and I have to slim down before tour starts.”

“Why?” The question is all your brain can come up with. You want to slap yourself for that being what your brain decided to spew at him first. He sighed deeply and hung his head. 

“Because, y/n. The outfits they make for me are always open chested – and people have already made comments about my weight in the past. So I want to slim down before we start again.” 

“Jake, those people have no right to make comments about your appearance. You’ve said that yourself in the past. Why do you suddenly care now?”

“Because they’re right about this. I don’t understand why you don’t get it!” 

For a split second, his raised voice hurts you, slicing through you as he snaps at you. But you know that it’s coming from his own hurt – the hurt that he’s been keeping to himself. 

“Jake,” you say quietly, “I’m confused because I think you’re the sexiest person on the planet. I love the way you look. I don’t care if you feel like you’ve put on some weight. You’re still just as sexy as you were before.” You pause, sliding up in bed so you can see him more clearly in the dark. “If I’m being totally honest, I think you’re even hotter now.” 

His eyes widen at your confession and even in the dark you can see the blush that overtakes his face. 

“You do?”

“Fuck yeah, I do. C’mere.” You beckon him to come and lay against the headboard. He complies, crawling his way up next to you and laying back. You toss one leg over his waist and settle on top of him, straddling him as you place your palms on his chest. 

“Do you know what I mean when I say ‘I love you?’” You ask him quietly. 

He nods his head. 

“I don’t think you do.” You lean your head down to press your lips softly to his for a moment before pulling away. “It means that I love all of you. Ever fucking thing about you – on the inside and on the outside.”

“But it’s embarrassing.” He whispers, eyes pinned on yours. “I don’t like being the heavier twin.” 

The phrase sounds foreign on his tongue and you realize that it's because he's quoting something – no doubt a shitty comment from some asshole who claims to be a fan. You have half a mind to slap the shit out of him. His words fill you with so much anger you feel like you’re going to explode. 

“Jacob, do not EVER compare yourself to Josh. Ever.”

“But-” 

“But nothing.” You cut him off, pressing your pointer finger to his soft lips to silence him before cupping his cheek with your palm. 

“If I wanted to be with Josh or someone built like Josh, I would be. But I don’t. I want you, Jake. As you are." You shake your head at him. "You're not fat, Jake. Like at all. You literally have nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

He’s looking at you with shiny eyes and you wish your words would be enough to convince him. But he’s nothing if not hardheaded, so you know it’s going to take more than a few flowery words to get him to see the truth. 

“I’m going to turn the light back on.” You say gently. “And I’m going to show you how much I love you. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He whispers, and you can practically see it as his whole body tenses beneath you. 

You reach up and turn the lamp back on, washing the room in golden light. Jake is still looking at you, his eyes wide and nervous. You give him a little smile as you settle back down on him. Forgoing anymore words, you press a feverish kiss to his neck, licking and sucking down the hollow of his throat. His breath stutters in his chest as you slide your ass downwards. His cock is soft after your conversation but you know you can get him back to where he was at the start of the night.

“I love your body, Jake. These pretty nipples.” You swirl your tongue around them, drawing a breathy moan from him. 

You reach out your arms and find his hands, laying limply at his side. You lace your fingers with his and bring his left hand to your lips, kissing his calloused fingers. “I love your hands. I love how they look when you play guitar – fast and merciless and so fucking talented. And yet they’re still so gentle when they touch me.” You slide his index finger between your lips, swirling your tongue around the digit before releasing it. “And I love the way you make me cum on your fingers. You’re better at that than anyone I’ve ever been with before.”

“Really? Better than anyone?” He asks, the whispers of his usual cocky self shining through.

“Really.” You assure him, dropping his hands to focus your attention elsewhere. “Can I tell you a secret?” You ask him, looking up at his flushed face through your lashes. 

“Yeah. Tell me.” 

“Your stomach is probably my favorite part about you.” You say, delicately trailing your fingers down his sternum and over the curve of his belly. 

He scoffs. 

“You’re just saying that.” 

You shake your head. 

“I’m not. It’s the truth, Jake. I fucking love it. I love watching the sweat drip down it while you play on stage. It makes me so fucking wet, imagining licking it off you.” You bring your mouth downwards, biting at his soft sides as your hands knead into the flesh. You suck his skin between your teeth, creating a purple mark just to the left of his belly button. “Everything about you makes me wet, but your belly does it the most.” 

As if in answer, your pussy throbs at the sight of the hickey you left there. You can see on his face that he still isn’t convinced so you slide off your panties and kick them to the side – leaving you in nothing but your tank top. You rise slightly off the bed and swipe a finger through your folds, collecting the wetness that’s pooled there. 

“See?” You say, allowing him to see your juices drip from your fingers. Wordlessly, he grabs your wrist and pulls your hand to his mouth. He wraps his lips around your finger, swirling his tongue to lap up your wetness. He moans at the taste of you and you pull your hand free. 

“Believe me yet?” You ask him with a sly smile. 

“Getting there.” He gives you a cheeky grin and you can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at the sight. 

You give his belly one last lick before moving downwards, avoiding where his half-hard cock lies in his boxers. 

“And I fucking love your thighs.” You tell him, sliding your palms up and down them as you speak. “So thick and strong. Makes me so fucking horny.” 

You trail kisses up the sensitive skin of his inner thigh, and the muscles twitch as you get closer to where he wants you. 

“You’re fucking solid, Jake. Powerful. You fuck me so hard. You think someone built like Josh could fuck me the way you do?” You shake your head. “They couldn’t even come close. No one can fuck me the way I need it besides you.” 

“Y/n… fuck.” His pupils are blown wide and his breathing is heavy. Even his chest is flush with his arousal. His cock is rock hard in his boxers now, tenting the fabric – straining them so much it looks like they might burst at the seams.

“And this,” you say, finally pressing your palm to his dick. “I don’t even have the words.” He groans at the pressure and his hips shift upwards off the bed in search for more. You give it to him, sliding his underwear down and off him. His cock springs free, slapping his stomach. You spit into your hand and wrap it around him, stroking him slowly. “You have such a pretty cock, Jake. It makes me feel so fucking good. Reaches places inside me no one else can.”

He groans loudly as you pump him, and you watch in awe as his eyes screw shut in pleasure. Your mouth waters and your cunt throbs at the sight and sound of him. Deciding that neither of you should have to wait for it tonight, you rip your tank top off quickly before sinking down on him, taking in his thick cock inch by inch. You moan and whimper as he stretches you, the familiar burn feeling so good. 

“Oh fuck!” Jake groans, opening his eyes to look at you taking his cock. “You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n. Look at you.” 

You still as you sink all the way down on him. He’s watching you with dark eyes and sweat is beginning to bead on his temples. 

“Jake…” you whine, beginning to rock your hips into his. 

“Shit, you’re so fuckin’ tight.” He growls, gripping your hips with his strong hands, kneading his fingers roughly into your flesh. 

You rise off him almost completely, before plunging back down on him – causing the both of you to moan loudly. You set a brutal pace, slamming down on him as he thrusts his hips up to meet yours. You drop your gaze downward to stare as each thrust causes movement in his soft belly, and you wail in pleasure and shock as you cum so hard you see stars. It tears through you so quickly you aren’t expecting it at all, and your movements still as waves of pleasure wash over you. When you finally come back to the world of the living, you want to be embarrassed for falling apart like that – but you can’t with the way Jake is looking at you. 

His jaw is open and his eyes are so dilated they look black. He looks like he wants to eat you alive. You both sit there, neither of you moving, as he looks at you like you’re the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. 

“Fuckin' hell.” He says, voice husky and broken.

 “Haven’t cum that easy since I was a fucking teenager.” You say, still a little embarrassed, despite his reaction.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Jake confesses, flipping you over quickly so that he’s on top. 

You know he saw where you were looking when you came – he’d been staring at your face the whole time. As embarrassing as that blatant display of lust had been, you can’t help but be thankful that he saw. There’s no way he can doubt your earlier words after seeing that. 

“Fuck me, Jake. Fuck me hard.” You plead, hooking your legs around his waist and pulling him in closer to you. “Fuck me the way only you can.” The last part comes out as a whisper and his cock twitches as you say them. He plants his forearms on either side of you, caging you in with his body. 

“I’ll fuck you every day until the day I die.” He says, before plunging into you again. 

There’s no delay now as he snaps his hips into yours – the force of each thrust causing your whole body to move upwards. His powerful thighs drive into you with fucking monster truck force and the sound of his skin hitting yours is loud and obscene. You rake your nails down his back, undoubtedly drawing blood as he hits that special spot inside of you that only he can. 

“Oh fuck, right fucking there. Jesus Christ!” You scream, digging your fingers into his sides and squeezing. 

“You’re so fucking tight, y/n. I’m gonna fucking cum.” Sweat drips down his neck and chest and you take the opportunity to lean upwards and lick it off him, moaning at the salty taste of him. 

“Dirty fucking girl. Jesus.” 

His thrusts are growing sloppy and erratic and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. You clench around him and the sound that falls from between his lips is practically a whine. 

“Do it, Jakey. Give it to me.” 

And that’s all it takes for him to spill inside you. 

“Fuck!” He growls, sinking his teeth into the skin of your shoulder as he cums. The sting brings you over the edge too, and you clench around him as you cum – milking him for all he’s got. 

When the two of you finally resurface, Jake pulls out of you and collapses on the bed next to you. You turn on your side to see his hilariously fucked out expression. You giggle. 

“What?” He asks, turning his head to face you, a sweet smile on his lips. 

“Do you know what I mean now when I say I love you?”

His smile widens – his beautiful white teeth on display as he scoots closer to you. 

“Yeah, I think so.” 

He kisses you – deliberate and passionate. 

"Jake," you say as he pulls away, "if you want to lose weight for you, then I don't care. But if you're only doing it because you feel like you have to..." You trail off, heart heavy at the thought that he had been feeling so down on himself without you realizing.

He smiles at you – the widest and most genuine one he's given you all night, and he slots his lips against yours in another kiss.

“Thank you.” He says as he pulls away from you. "But I think you've convinced me that I'm good with how I am right now." Seriousness overtakes his soft expression as he looks at you. "Thank you."

“It was literally my pleasure. I love getting to worship you.” You lean your head on his shoulder and he pulls the covers up over the two of you and turns off the lamp. “All of you.”

He chuckles, and the sound rumbles in his chest where you’re pressed against him. 

“I love you too, y/n. All of you.”

---------

Taglist:

@ignite-my-fire

@mybussyinchrist

@gold-mines-melting

@objectsinspvce

@starshine-wagner

@ohgodthefeeling-gvf

Let me know if you'd like to be added to my permanent taglist <3

[lettherebetboys]

TWO MONTHS ON T 🎈🎉🎁‼️‼️‼️

i can’t believe it’s been two months already, this is insane!! here are some updates on all the changes that have been happening:

dosage: i’ve been at 25mg/week, but i dropped down to 20mg a few weeks ago! (that’s .1ml of 200mg/ml T)!

voice: i'm DEFINITELY cracking more! more so when i speak, a little less when i sing. i think my tonal center is shifting a bit lower already, so i’m gonna have to figure out how to speak so that it resonates lower in my chest, because talking high pitched like i normally do is starting to wear my voice out. it’s nice, honestly! even the cracks :-)

i haven’t lost or gained any range, and i’ve been working my belting voice a lot more and it feels the same as usual. my high classical register has been getting more tired more easily though. i have noticed that i have more radical ‘good singing days’ and ‘bad singing days’. i always did but it’s more noticeably one or the other than before

physical changes: bottom growth has slowed down a liiiiittle but is still definitely happening. Rapidly. i have decided i like it a lot!!!!!! it’s really cool and makes me feel really good about something that used to make me very dysphoric!!!

the peach fuzz on my upper lip has gotten slightly darker and thicker, and there are sparse dark hairs sprouting on my chin. nothing noticeable when i’m not looking closely in the mirror, but they’re there! i don’t know how to feel yet, i’m gonna wait and see if they start to fill out more.

my skin is actually getting softer instead of rougher like it should, especially on my face, but i think that’s cause i got a new skin cream and moisturizer. similarly, i’m noticing the same amount/a little less acne than usual, but i’ve recently started washing my face twice a day and using skincare and stuff so that’s likely why.

still working out and eating protein and stuff. chronic pain is painful but i’ve also been exerting myself a lot so it’s a reasonable amount for the circumstances. i’d like to lose a little bit of weight, just so that i can gain it back in the right places faster, instead of waiting for my existing fat to redistribute, so i’m gonna work on that!

also my cheeks are a little puffier! apparently a normal thing in the first few months of T. i don’t dislike it but i’m definitely excited for them to slim back down into a more defined cheekbone.

orientation stuff: yes i absolutely like girls. i’ve come to the conclusion that i previously did like girls, just had a really strong preference for boys, and now T has shifted me towards the center

also, i may not be asexual. i’m…probably not asexual. i don’t really know. at the very least, i know for sure i’m leaning more positive as opposed to how i was before (more negative/repulsed). it is possible that some of my dysphoria being alleviated has something to do with this. hm. we’ll figure that out later!

mental health: i’ve felt pretty good recently!!! i feel a lot more comfortable and confident in my body and it’s definitely influencing my behavior. i’m more comfortable dressing how i want, and presenting more femininely when i want, and it brings me euphoria even in public. i’ve always loved being fem every now and then, and T is helping me find the most happiness in that.

i can’t really tell cause no emotional permanence, but i think i’ve been less anxious and depressed lately. which is always great!!!

it still feels unreal that i’m on T, but lately it’s started to sink in just a little bit more. it’s crazy and i LOVE it!! i love it i love it i love it!!!!! even the changes i was really worried about are bringing me joy!!!

it’s scary sometimes, changing so much so fast. it’s scary looking in the mirror and not fully recognizing who you are anymore. but it’s not in a bad way. it’s like how you look in the mirror after getting a really good haircut for the first time in a while:

oh! there you are!

[mymoodwriting]

Because You're Mine

Female!Reader x Werewolf!SKZ

Genre: A/B/O

Warning: Insomnia, Anxiety, Panic Attack, PTSD, Pheromones, ABO Dynamics, Mentions of Assault, Physical Assault, Restraints, Gags, Abuse, Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse, Bullying

Words: 4.6K

Chapter One

(//Next) (@starillusion13)

Prompt: With omegas completely removed from society, they needed their own communities and institutions to grow. All your life you had lived and gone to school alongside your fellow omegas, and orphaned alphas. You had managed to keep yourself together, but now at the university level, keeping your secret had grown impossible. You had to face your fears and make friends with an alpha eventually, and now was the time.

“Can you believe it!? Tomorrow is graduation…”

“… yay…”

“Could you be any more excited?”

You sighed, staring up at the blank ceiling. You had honestly been dreading this day for years now, but it finally caught up to you. Graduation should be something to celebrate, but it just meant things were going to get harder for you. It was the reason why you were still awake so late into the night. You were anxious about tomorrow, whereas your roommate and best friend Jisung was excited. Even if he was making a joke he knew what was on your mind.

“Y/n… after graduation we’re gonna be moved to a different campus, a bigger one, and there-”

“I know.”

“You’re gonna get found out sooner or later… you should tell someone so-”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Y/n… you can’t hide this forever…”

“You can’t tell anyone!”

“Y/n-”

“Promise me, Jisung.”

“I promise I won’t tell anyone… but I am worried about you…”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll figure something out.”

“Don’t forget I’m here for you.”

“I won’t. Thanks, Jisung.” 

“We should probably get some sleep though.” Jisung chuckled. “Big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah… good night, Jisung.”

“Good night, y/n.”

♥♥♥♥♥

Even if you only slept a few hours you still needed to be up early for graduation. You woke up before Jisung, letting him sleep in a bit more before getting him out of bed. Both your outfits were simple, but you still had to check in early at the ceremony site. It was kind of weird to have such a big celebration considering no one was here to see you. All the alphas and omegas here were orphans, never having known their parents. Besides faculty and staff, and the graduates themselves, no one else would be present. It made it feel like something was missing, but then again you just wanted this whole thing over with. After the long ceremony everyone was given a few hours to refresh and rest before the big party would begin. Of course you had no desire to attend, so you were just glad you could turn in early and enjoy a quiet night.

“Are you really not going?”

“It’s not her scene, Felix.” Jisung explained. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yup.” You smiled. “The whole dorm is gonna be quiet, so it’s like I have it all to myself.”

“That doesn’t sound bad at all. I’ll message you when I’m on my way back.”

“Cool. Now you two have fun.”

“Will do.”

Besides Jisung, you didn’t have many other friends. There was Felix who you knew pretty well, but he was more Jisung’s friend than yours. You were just fine with your mini circle of friends, although you weren’t sure how it would develop going forward. After graduation everyone got a week to just do as they pleased before the moving began. No one really had much to their name so when it came time to move it was fairly easy. You got lucky that Jisung was still your roommate, and you both loved the spacious upgrade to your dorm situation.

While in your high school years your dorm was pretty small, and for omegas only, the alphas had their own building. The school itself was also a decent size that could accommodate everyone that was there. For those couple years the alphas and omegas were separated with a few classes being co-ed. It would still be the same at the university level, but there was more of a choice. The alphas still had certain classes to take that were only for them, but omegas could pursue any type of knowledge by either taking omega only classes, or the co-ed ones.

The campus itself was also different. There were more students around in general. Those a year ahead of you, and also other incoming freshmen from other academies. It did feel a bit overwhelming, but you had a plan to make things easier for yourself. Besides the classes, there were some omega only spaces, and you’d be sticking to those. You wanted to pursue science and learn more about your world, whereas Jisung was excited to get into the arts. He was always very creative and passionate so you were excited to see where things went for him.

You took omega only classes, and afterwards you’d continue your studies in the library. There was an omegas only section there, and you always reserved a study room for yourself. On occasion Jisung and Felix would join you, having homework they needed to do. If you weren’t in class or at the library you’d simply go back to your dorm. There were plenty of omega only activities that you could participate in, but you preferred to keep for yourself. Although you were glad there was an arts class you and Jisung shared, Felix too.

“Y/n, you’re not looking too good.” Felix commented. “Are you okay?”

“Hm? I’m just tired, stayed up late last night studying.”

“Why did you choose science? It can be pretty hard.”

“Yeah but there are some questions I want to find answers for.”

“But aren’t the more advanced classes co-ed?” Jisung mentioned. “You’d only be able to go so far.”

“I know.”

“What does that mean?” Felix questioned.

“Nothing.” You assured. “I’m gonna head back to the dorm and catch up on some sleep. You guys can use my study room reservation if you need to.”

“Thanks.” Jisung smiled. “You get some sleep.”

“Will do. You two stay out of trouble.”

“No promises.”

When you got back to your dorm you put your bag down and dived into bed, snuggling the sheets. Luckily sleep came easy, so you got some good rest. You woke up a few hours later, checking the time and seeing you still had some daylight. You got out of bed to freshen up so you could do your assignments. While you were in the bathroom you heard the door unlocking, a bit surprised to hear that Jisung was back so soon. Usually he’d barely be getting out of a class at this time.

You stepped out to go greet him, and then the scent hit you. Jisung wasn’t at the door, it was an alpha. You quickly scrambled back to the bathroom and locked the door. You were already finding it difficult to breathe but you needed to calm down in order to hide yourself. You had no idea why an alpha was in your dorm, or how they got a key, but you didn’t care for it. All you wanted was for them to leave. You heard some rummaging around, and then things got quiet. You thought maybe they had left, but then you heard the bathroom door knob jiggle, followed by a knock.

“Are you okay in there?”

The voice was not Jisung at all, nor was it anyone you recognized. Of course it wasn’t anybody you knew, you didn’t socialize with alphas.

“I’m fine!” You stammered out. “Please… please leave…”

“Are you sure? You sound stressed and your scent-”

“Go away!”

You wanted to get away from the door and wound up tripping over the floor mat. You hit your head against the wall, reaching over to the wound and feeling the throbbing from the pain.

“Are you okay!”

Now the alpha was trying to open the door again with far greater urgency. Your vision was a bit blurry, but hearing the alpha try to break in shot your fear up to eleven. With the pain in your head, and the feeling of impending doom it was becoming very hard to breathe or focus. You screamed when you heard the alpha throwing themselves against the door. You were frozen in fear, starting to cry, and desperately hoping they’d hear your cries for them stop. It didn’t help though, and soon enough the door swung open. You couldn’t see the alpha through your tears, but they didn’t hesitate to approach you, even if you tried to push them away.

“Let me see. Are you hurt?”

The alpha pulled you into their arms and moved your hand away, examining your head. Thankfully you weren’t bleeding, but now that they were close they could smell the fear and panic on you.

“What’s wrong? Did someone-”

“Go away!”

You tried to push the alpha away from you again, but they only grabbed your hands which made you squirm all the more. You desperately tried to pull away but they kept their grasp firm, and only pulled you closer to them. They spoke softly to you, looking at you with sincere concern on their face.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The alpha asked. “It’s okay, you’re not bleeding. You’re not hurt, you’re just fine.”

You continued to scream and thrash, just wanting the alpha to leave you alone and go away but they weren’t listening. Instead they pulled you into their embrace and wrapped their arms around you, trying to sooth you.

“Deep breaths, it’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

You couldn’t get away from their scent now that your face was buried in their chest. They smelled nice, and you could definitely tell they were trying to calm you down but it was directly clashing with your desire to escape. You were still trying to fight, but their scent was getting to you, turning your screams into silent cries.

“There, there, you’re okay, you’re okay, I got you.”

“Y/N!”

Jisung returned to the dorm out of breath, looking around in a panic while calling your name. Soon enough he found you in the bathroom and his eyes went wide.

“Let her go, Chan!”

Without hesitation Jisung pulled Chan away from you, shoving him out of the bathroom and focusing his attention on you.

“Are you okay, y/n? Hey, can you hear me?”

“… jisung… is that… you…”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. Are you okay? I’m so sorry.”

“… jisung…”

You were still scared and out of it, your eyes were starting to tear up again. You could barely talk through your sobs.

“It’s okay, I’m here, it’s okay. Let’s get you out of these clothes and into a shower.”

Jisung got up to turn on the shower head, making sure the water was warm before putting you under it. He got you out of your shirt, and took off his own jacket, holding it out to you.

“Here. That’s my scent, just take a deep breath. You’re okay.”

“Jisung-”

“Get out!”

Jisung got up and pushed Chan away, shoving him out of the dorm. The other boy didn’t fight him, but was very confused over the situation.

“Jisung, what-”

“Get out before security realizes you’re here. And not a word of this to anyone!”

“What just happened!?”

“Nothing, now go.”

Jisung shut the door and took a breath before getting back to you. He found you with your face buried in his jacket, now completely soaked from the water. After a while he helped you out of the shower, drying you off with a towel and tossing your wet clothes in the corner. You leaned against him, resting your head on his chest, breathing in his scent and gradually calming down. You felt much better now.

“I’m sorry.” Jisung apologized. “It slipped my mind that you were in the dorm. I thought it’d be no problem to have Chan come and get something of his while I was in class. This is all my fault, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine… nothing bad happened…”

“I’ll talk to him, make sure-”

“It’s okay, Jisung. I’m glad you’ve made friends.”

“You can be mad at me, you know.”

“Why would I be mad?”

“I don’t know. I put you in danger…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” You assured. “How did you meet this alpha anyway?”

“Oh, we’re in the same class and share a couple interests. So we kind of hit it off from there.”

“Look at you, making friends.”

“Stop it.”

“Just saying. I’m happy for you.”

It took a bit but you were able to put the whole thing behind you and continue with your life. Jisung didn’t bring it up again, but he was a bit more cautious around you. The only difference was that every now and then you would see Chan around Jisung. You knew they were friends and nothing bad was gonna happen, but you still felt uneasy. Whenever Chan would notice you around you’d quickly avoid his gaze and hurry along with your business. Besides all that you didn’t think anything would come of the previous incident, but you were wrong.

“Ms. y/n?”

“Uh… yes… how can I help you?”

“The headmaster wants to see you.”

“Wa… what for…”

“Please come with us.”

After one of your classes two faculty members, along with a security guard, approached you. Just seeing them put you on edge, so the fact they were asking for you specifically made it worse. You had no choice in the matter but to go with them.

♥♥♥♥♥

“Jisung!”

Felix came running into the cafeteria, finding his friend at one of the tables. He interrupted the group conversation but he didn’t care. He took a moment to catch his breath before speaking.

“What’s up?”

“It’s y/n…” Felix breathed. “I saw her being escorted by faculty and security.”

“What!? Why!?”

“I don’t know, but she seemed scared.”

“Scared… what would-”

Jisung stopped in his tracks and looked over at Chan. The boy was silent, but a glint in his eyes told Jisung everything.

“What did you do!”

“There’s something going on with your friend and I’m trying to help.”

“You’ve done the opposite of help.” Jisung snapped. “Fuck!”

There was only one place you’d wind up. Jisung got up, leaving his things behind and bolting out of the cafeteria. Chan chased after him and caught up to him, holding him back.

“Where are you going?”

“None of your business!”

“Jisung, whatever’s going on isn’t good.”

“You don’t know anything!”

“All I know is that she was panicking for no reason and I wasn’t actually helping.”

“You have no idea.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“It’s not my story to tell, and it’s too late now. So let go!”

“You’re not gonna get her out of this.”

“I know that, but she’s also not gonna be able to speak for herself.”

♥♥♥♥♥

You nervously sat outside the headmaster’s office, fidgeting with your hands and shaking your leg. This could be nothing related to what you were thinking, but at the same time it could be. If that was the case, well, Jisung always told you that you’d get found out in the end. While thinking of him you suddenly heard your name called.

“Y/n!”

Jisung came running down the hall towards you. He was out of breath but still took your hand, pulling you onto your feet and into a hug.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m scared…”

“I know, I know, but everything’s gonna be okay.”

“Jisung…”

“Deep breaths. I’m here with you.”

Jisung took his jacket off and put it on your shoulders, pulling you into his arms. Just then the door to the headmasters office opened. The secretary asked for you to step in, but Jisung wasn’t going to let you go in alone. He kept a hold of your hand and pushed his way into the office with you.

“What’s going on?” Headmaster Shim asked. 

“I want to ask the same thing.” 

The headmaster raised a brow and Jisung quickly apologized. Even if he had the strength to stand up for you, the headmaster was still an alpha and held power over any omega.

“… sorry… I… I need to know why you called y/n here.”

“Why?”

“The matter may pertain to me. I’ve been her roommate since high school.”

“I see. This may pertain to you as well. Sit. Both of you.”

You both sat down in front of the headmaster’s desk, Jisung still holding your hand. You couldn’t make eye contact with the headmaster, and kept your head low. That way Jisung’s scent was right in your face and could keep you calm.

“Now. I received a report of unusual, and concerning, behavior in regards to y/n. I’m beginning to understand the reason for the report. So, which of you will explain?”

“That depends. You-”

“Mr… what was your name again?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.”

“Mr. Jisung, you seem to know more about this incident than anyone else. I’m not happy with what I am seeing right now, and I need to know what is going on in order to fix it. So please, tell me what is going on.”

Jisung glanced over at you. He couldn’t imagine how you felt right now being so close to an alpha, but he could feel a slight tremble coming from your hand. He knew there was no hiding this anymore. For your sake he needed to speak the truth, no matter what happened. Jisung got up and pulled you into his arms again, softly rubbing your back.

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay.” Jisung took a breath. “Headmaster Shim.”

“Yes?”

“Y/n was assaulted her sophomore year of high school.”

“Excuse me?”

You buried your face into Jisung’s chest, trying to focus on his scent and not his words. You couldn’t help the tremble in your body, biting your lip to hold back tears. You thought you could forget that horrible night, but it always lingered in the back of your mind. You feared the day it would come to light as you had no idea what the consequences would be.

♥♥♥♥♥

“We told you to back off!”

You were always a loner that kept to herself. You only managed to make friends with your roommate Jisung, and were kinda friends with his friend, Felix. Besides that you stuck to yourself. You didn’t cause trouble, and you never wanted to, but it wound up finding you. There was this alpha in your class. Super pretty and very popular. He had both alphas and omegas fawning over him. You weren’t interested, but apparently he was interested in you. Because of that you had a target on your back

Just because alphas and omegas were meant to end up together, it wouldn’t stop them from dating one another while young. Even then one didn’t know what the future held. It made sense for omegas to fawn over alphas, but the opposite wasn’t so common, especially when it was an alpha crushing on an omega. What upset everyone the most is that you weren’t already crushing on the alpha, so the others felt like you didn’t deserve his affections. You only thought he was being nice to you, and you were grateful for that, but you didn’t think there was much else to his kindness. Although you’d soon learn it didn’t come with consequences.

You’d always stay late after classes to get your assignments done. So by the time you left the library the school would mostly be empty. After one of your study sessions you were making your way through the empty hall when you were suddenly attacked. A bag was placed over your head and you felt multiple hands grabbing you and dragging you away. You didn’t know what was happening, but you knew you were being taken down some stairs. Then you had your hands tied behind your back, and your legs tied together. The bag over your head never came off, but it was pulled up in order to gag you.

Once you were restrained things got quiet. You could hear multiple heartbeats around you, and some low whispers. Then you began to catch scents. You couldn’t identify anyone at the moment, but you knew that they were all alphas. You had never been afraid of alphas before, or saw them as greater than you, but this was seriously scaring you. After a long while you felt this crowd approach you, someone kicking you over onto your back. You moved over to be on your side but got shoved onto your back again, someone putting their foot on your chest to keep you still.

“You should’ve known better.”

“An alpha like that wouldn’t choose someone like you. So what did you do!”

“She’s just a desperate omega trying to get attention.”

“If you want the attention of an alpha there are plenty others to choose from.”

“So how are we gonna teach this omega a lesson?”

“I have an idea. Got this from the infirmary.” 

“What is it?”

“No idea, but it’s not meant for students.”

“Are you sure it won’t kill her?”

“Doubt it, but we can give her a little bit just to be safe.”

You started squirming again when you heard them talk about giving you something, but the pressure on your chest only got more severe. You already felt like you couldn’t breathe, and the panic you were feeling only made it worse. You felt the bag over your head being lifted up, followed by a pinch on your neck. You started desperately thrashing around to no avail, and soon enough you began to feel uncomfortable in your own skin. It started off gradually, like a fever, but it was soon becoming unbearable. You didn’t want to cry, but you were certainly screaming into the gag, desperate for anything to make this feeling go away.

You could hear laughter though. Everyone had stepped back to watch the show, to watch you suffer. After a while you stopped screaming and were just crying for help, but they all ignored you. Sometimes they’d step forward to kick you, wanting to see your reaction. Your head was spinning, and your body was tired from fighting the restraints. You were certain you were going to pass out soon enough, but they weren’t gonna let you go quietly. Now that you had calmed down they got closer, poking at you softly. Even if they were so close you couldn’t identify anyone, all you had was a mixing scent of alphas and no one else. They kept bothering you until you actually passed out, realizing you were no fun unconscious.

Even when you woke up later you had no idea how much time had passed. You were still in the dark, your body sore and aching all over. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry or scream, everything having been rung out of you. In this situation you weren’t even sure if anyone would find you, or if the alphas that did this would drop a hint as to where you were. The thought of dying there crossed your mind, it was so grim, but you had no idea what those alphas were capable of doing. At some point you must have passed out again, but with the bag over your head it was hard to figure out if you were really awake or not.

“Y/n!”

You heard your name being called, and even though you were exhausted your body tensed up. You were trembling from fear, whimpering as well. When you felt a hand on you your body flinched.

“I’m sorry… just…”

You felt the bag come off your head and immediately shut your eyes. You needed a second to adjust to the light. Whoever was here helped you sit up, giving your arms a bit of a break. You slowly peeked your eyes open, coming to find a familiar face. You felt tears well up in your eyes, your body relaxing a bit as well.

“What happened to you…”

Jisung undid your arms and legs, getting the gag off you as well. Once you were free you started crying and Jisung gently pulled you into his arms. Breathing in his scent further put you at ease, and he just held you for however long you needed him to. You’d later find out it was the next morning. After missing two classes Jisung ditched the next to go looking for you. Everyone thought you were sick but he wasn’t buying it. After all, he was your roommate and knew you weren’t in the dorm. Not to mention when he went to sleep and woke up you weren’t there. He retraced your steps and followed your fading scent from outside the library, finding you in a wretched situation in the basement.

You were in no condition to be going to class, although you pleaded with Jisung to just get you back to the dorm instead of going to the infirmary. Despite his better judgment he did as you asked. Back at the dorm you took a cold shower, wanting to wash everything away. You broke down again and Jisung held you, doing his best to assure you that everything was going to be alright. When you were strong enough you told him what had happened to you. He wanted to go to the headmasters office now more than before but you didn’t want to make a big deal of this or get them in trouble. You sounded crazy to him, but you begged him to keep quiet.

Jisung kept your secret, but he also kept a closer eye on you. He didn’t leave you alone after that, and he could also see how you changed. You avoided the alphas from the class, all of them. You didn’t know who was responsible but the scent of an alpha alone would make you panic. Jisung was weary of all the alphas too, but he just focused on looking after you and getting through the rest of the year. Over time you were able to be like your old self, but he knew you’d never be the same again. You still avoided all the alphas, even the teachers. You were doing okay, but Jisung knew that the truth would get exposed one day.

♥♥♥♥♥

“Why wasn’t this reported earlier?”

To say that headmaster Shim was angry was an understatement. For a second Jisung tensed up from the shift in scent, but they quickly composed themselves.

“I… she didn’t… she didn’t want to get anyone in trouble…”

“The reason for the OCPD is to look after omegas. If any alpha were to go against that ideal then they are not fit to be agents.” Headmaster Shim took a breath. “I will gather a list of the alphas from your high school class and we’ll need to-”

“No.”

You were shaking your head, trembling in Jisung’s embrace. The incident may have been nearly three years ago but it felt like just yesterday for you.

“I’m overlooking the fact that you didn’t report this to me when it happened, but the guilty party can not go unpunished. Miss y/n here may not be the only victim to this type of cruel behavior. Not to mention a staff member from the infirmary failed to report a supply discrepancy. This goes beyond just the two of you.”

“I… I’m sorry…” You mumbled. “I’m sorry…”

“What happens then?” Jisung asked. “After you catch those responsible.”

“They’ll be removed from the institution and miss y/n needs to begin therapy.”

“Therapy?”

“She’s been trembling since she set foot in here because I’m an alpha. And her records show she avoids any interaction with alphas in general, not to mention her behavior in regards to the recent incident. You also need to explain that one. An alpha shouldn’t be in the omega dorm.”

“Right…”

“For now the priority is with miss y/n. We can have a separate conversation later.”

“Of course, but I don’t want y/n going through any of this alone.”

“I appreciate that, but you are also an omega like herself. Part of her therapy will involve reworking her relationship with an alpha. I’ll need to find someone to-”

“Chan…” You whispered.

“Huh?” Jisung questioned. “What did you say?”

“Chan… he… he’s okay…”

“What?”

“Is that your choice?” Headmaster Shim asked. “You’d like him to assist with your situation going forward?”

“… yes…”

“That’s good. It gives us a good starting point.”

“You want to hang out with Chan?” Jisung wondered. “Really?”

“He was nice…”

[its-echo-song]

Plague AU Ch. 3

Two weeks pass without much change, a habit forming of meeting back at the doctor's place after working all day, being sketched and measured, eating whatever dinner he’s prepared, and then walking home with him.

I have offered for him to use one of my spare rooms, a place for him to rest for the later nights. He's always refused, telling me it’s a horrible idea to keep a plague doctor overnight. Then he goes on to make his way back home. I’d asked before, it doesn’t bother him. “Solitude suits me, I think. The quiet of the evening is refreshing, compared to the kinds of days we have.” So then he’d go on his way, a farewell said in more and more of a cheerful manner each time, and in the morning the greeting gets warmer by mere degrees. But it’s there, I take note of it with a slight happiness each time. 

It’s no surprise, though, since we’ve danced cautiously around the idea of friendship- sizing each other up, trying to feel out unfamiliar territory. We grow closer and I hesitate less around him, he eases in his strict manner as well, and we end up sharing stories until late into the night. Tonight is no exception, trading tales and laughing as he tries to sketch me, eventually giving up in frustration. “Not working tonight?” I ask, leaning closer to try and peer at his book. He pulls it close to his chest, leaning back away from me. “No! And I don’t want you seeing. Sorry, but- especially when I’m not able to get your likeness down, no.” “Would be easier without the mask. It’s probably hard to see through those eye-holes.” This has been a subject that I’ve been refusing to drop. Apparently, to his dismay. He groans and pulls his book away enough to close it. 

“I already told you, I can’t do that.”

“Why not? It’s not like we’re complete strangers.” “Because… It's a bad idea. It’s just not- that’s not how this works.” “So I stand around with no shirt on for hours while you poke and prod at me and I don’t even get to see the face of the man who’s doing it? How is that fair?” “How would it be fair if I died? You’re still surrounding yourself with the death every day and that’s a risk-” “A risk you also take, you do the same thing I do.” “Donny-” “I don’t even know your name! Why can’t I know that?” “Perhaps it’s time to walk home.” “No- I just- I’ve been so patient.” “And the reward for patience is getting what you want? There is no such end for you.” “All I’m saying is you struggle to draw because you cannot see me, you struggle with the heat by the fire, you- it just seems like more trouble than it's worth.” “Let me worry about my troubles.” There’s no winning this argument with him, no matter how curious I am. I sigh, putting my hands up in surrender. “Okay, sorry, you’re right. Your struggle, not mine.” He relaxes slightly, I watch the tension leaving his shoulders. “Thank you. Now, should we walk?” “Well- I guess, if you’re done.” He nods at me, standing. “Did you know you can learn things about someone's condition from listening to their heart?” he asks, casually, as he makes his way over to the door. “It’s fascinating. Apparently different sounds can mean different things.” “Oh? That’s new.” “I get journals sent to me from France.” “So it’s experimental?” “It’s in the observation stage, like most of the science I’m practicing.” “So… I’m assuming you’ll be attempting that.” “Possibly. There are issues with the procedure. I can try to feel your heartbeat, but- currently the way to do such a thing would be… ah-” He clears his throat. “It’s a bit impractical.” “What do you mean?” “I’d have to put my ear up to your chest.” There's a lingering silence punctuated by our footfall. I’m thankful to be walking by dim moonlight, as to hide the way my face is flushing at the thought. “Oh. Well- with the hood and all…” “That, too. I’m still refusing to budge, don’t argue with me about it.” “I didn’t say anything.” More silence follows this. “We’ll have to figure something out. I don’t want that to stand in the way of research.” He glances over at me and then back in the direction we’re walking. “Yes, well… easier said than done.” “I could… close my eyes? Look away?”

“With how you’ve been acting about seeing me? Why would I trust you to keep your word on such a thing?” He’s half teasing, I can tell by the tone of his voice, interwoven with light laughter. “I guess… I’m sorry I’ve become untrustworthy.” He laughs, it’s own kind of warmth that cuts through the chill of the evening. “I don’t blame you for your curiosity, but I’ll be damned if I let it win.”

“We’ll see about that.” I say with a smile thrown in his direction, a chuckle trailing off into the silence of the night. I peer upward at the stars for a moment, taking in the vast blanket of them across the sky, watching the clouds of my breath float up to meet them. “I do wish, though, that you didn’t have to wear that thing. Not just for my curiosity, it’s really nice out right now. Maybe on your walk back- you should see the stars.” He looks at me for a good few paces, then to the sky. “You know what? I think I will.” ~~~

He’s decided not to tempt fate, as he put it. Instead of removing the hood and mask to listen to my heart, he’s starting by attempting to pick up irregular patterns by placing his hand over my heart. Admittedly, when he’d first suggested it I didn’t think much of it. I’d been so used to him positioning me, sliding his hands over my arms as he measured, murmuring numbers to himself. But usually he leaves his gloves on- save for taking my pulse at the wrist and neck.

This shouldn't be much different, in theory. 

But somehow it is.

He has me stand for this new procedure, slipping his gloves off and gingerly placing them aside on his desk. He steps into my space, one hand resting on the bare flesh of my shoulder, the other gently placed over my heart. I try not to think about it, the delicate pressure from the other hand that has no need to rest where it does. There’s no real reason for the extra contact, so much so that it evokes a flood of questions within me. Why? He doesn’t seem to be the kind of person where this kind of movement would be natural to him, it makes it feel purposeful, like he’s got some reasoning that I might not puzzle together. He’d not denied his preferences- that he would rather find himself amongst other men. Perhaps that is what’s making this feel different to me. Perhaps he’s not changed at all, it’s only my perception of him. I’m overly sensitive to his motives now, wondering what each movement might mean, thinking about the fact that he’s leaning ever so slightly into me…feeling strangely elated to notice it. 

Or is there really something there? The way he draws his hand away slowly, almost dragging away so his fingertips trace against my skin slightly, leaving me to shiver as the goosebumps erupt down my skin. He takes a slight step away, peering up at me. “Are you okay?” Real concern paints his voice when he asks this. He still does not remove the hand that lays over my heart.

“Yeah- why?” I sound strained, I can hear how much my words sound like effort, like awkwardness. “You’re-you’re turning red. You’re not feverish are you?” He places the back of his free hand on my forehead and I suddenly feel as if I may faint. “No- no I’m- It’s okay, I’m alright.” I fight the urge to back away, give in to the flutterings of panic in my core, the sudden sparking of nervousness. He huffs out a slight laugh, pulling his hand off my forehead and smoothing it over my shoulder, down my arm. “Don’t forget to breathe, Donald.” He says this gently, filled with amusement, and I can't stop thinking about the way his hand now gently rests wrapped around my wrist with a feather light touch. My mouth has gone dry, I nod at him and take a deep breath, feeling my face heat warmer than before and turning my gaze away from him to focus on something, anything else. 

He takes a larger step back from me, pulling both his hands away and grabbing his sketchbook. “I don’t think I’m going to get any useful information out of you like this.” I still say nothing, keeping my eyes locked on the fireplace. What does he mean like this? He’s noticed- I’m not even sure what it means, entirely- he’s noticed that I’m nervous, now that I know about his past? I hope he doesn’t hold it against me, feel slighted.

I would never hold it against him, his taste in companionship. I’ve had my fair share of struggles against my own mind, my preferences, things I’d never say outloud to another. I wouldn’t dare act upon such thoughts, no matter how tempting they seem to be- no matter how enticing the allure of a handsome man’s smile can feel. There’s part of me that suddenly views him as dangerous due to that- thanks to the fact that a simple hand on the shoulder can break my will so easily, that my heartbeat disobeys my every desire for it to remain steady.

It feels as if, though, none of this bothers him. He goes about his routine as usual, no comments other than the one he’d already made- which sticks in my mind like a briar. 

There’s no more conversation for the night, he works in silence and I hold my tongue, shocked at my own reaction to him. When it comes time to say goodnight, as we linger outside my home, he finally speaks to me again. “I apologize… if I’ve overstepped.” There’s more silence, I can’t quite pull my thoughts together to give him an appropriate response. Is it okay? Did he overstep or am I simply reacting too much? Should I tell him I forgive him, though there may be nothing to forgive? “Well- Have a goodnight then, Donald. Hopefully I’ll see you in the morning.” He sounds apprehensive, turning and taking a pace before stopping again. “I mean it,” he turns to look back at me, “please be there tomorrow. I-I mean- I hope you will be.” “I will.” I murmur, trying very hard to look at him as I say it, but failing and turning my eyes to stare at the ends of his cloak instead. “I don’t think… I’m not sure there’s anything to forgive you for.”

“You’re… not sure? Hm- Well, think about it. I’m not trying to- I don’t mean to scare you away.”

I take a breath, thinking back to the interaction- would I really say no if I knew that’s what would happen? If I knew I’d feel so flustered?

No, I don’t believe so- In fact, I find the thought exhilarating, a small rush of hopeful excitement at the thought of his hand on my shoulder, of him sharing my space so casually.

“I mean- No, there’s no reason to apologize. I think I’m just- I’m just tired tonight. Tomorrow I’ll be more myself.”

“Well then, I suppose I’ll have to look forward to seeing you tomorrow, then.”

‘Look forward to seeing you’

“Walk safely.”

“Have a good evening, Donny.”

He turns and makes his way into the night, walking quietly on his own. I watch him as far as my eyes can strain to see- ducking away when he turns suddenly to look back in my direction. When I peer back out again, I see a silhouette of him removing the mask- no details to note, except that I can tell he’s gazing up at the night sky.

[abrcmswrld]

Treacherous | Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: Reader and Mike have been best friends since childhood. After a fight, Reader is given a surprise visit.

Warnings: General Angst, General Fluff, a suggestive make out scene in the nude but nothing too crazy, mentions of feminine clothing in one part but overall gender neutral

Author's Note: IM EDITING THIS RN SO PLEASE JUST IGNORE THE MISTAKES AND LIKE DUMB STUFF This is my first fic for Mike so bear with me! I tried so hard to adhere to the movie timeline but if it seems shaky please just ignore it lmao. I'm also bad at pacing sorry. I’d love to make this a series cause I’m in love with a good friends to lovers trope.

Mike had always been a bit of a mess. All of the time that you've known him, this has never changed. You can recall times on the playground of boys calling him names for his sensitivities. How were they to know the gravity of his situation? How were you to know? But you always felt called to stand up for him either way.

So you'd hound them off. You'd grab his hand and pull him off the dirt and to a quiet corner of the playground. The two of you would sit on the wooden border, picking at the grass and watching the other kids play.

His sensitivities would quickly turn to a certain hardness that you'd never fully come to understand, even in your late twenties. He'd open up the tiniest bit in high school, after his mother had passed away. He was only 17 years old. You were still children.

You have memories of standing uncomfortably in the dress your mother had insisted you wear to the funeral. You didn't know how to approach him then. He sat alone in a chair on the far side of the funeral home, a blank expression on his face. You couldn't say a word as you took tiny footsteps towards him. And he didn't say a word either, just looked up with bloodshot eyes. You'd hugged him then, feeling his shoulders shakes against you.

Soon it was time for the two of you to start thinking about college and your lives outside of the scope of small town high school. Talks of plans to find something new and excited were quickly stomped out by the failures of his father. You can recall a 23 year old Mike begging for your company on late nights when his father's drinking had reached a climax.

And you'd gladly show up for him. Abby was only six by that time, and Mike was all she had. Mike spoke about his father with disdain to you. Never crying the way he had as child, but you could see a sad anger within the conversations. And really, you couldn't blame him.

You can remember a night on the roof of your childhood home. It wasn’t your first time sneaking Mike through the window of your bedroom. It was a cold December night, and you were home for the holidays.

“I don’t think my dad’s coming back.”

Your knees were pulled up and under your chin as you rest your head and listened to his worries. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean, he hasn’t been back for three days and I think this might finally be it.”

You furrowed your brows and met his gaze.

“I’ll move back here.”

In that moment he had begged you not to. You were so close to finishing your degree and he insisted that he could not be the reason you didn’t finish. So you heeded to his wishes. You finished your final semester.

In the 6 months that you were gone after that night, his dad had not returned. Mike had stepped up to be a guardian for his sister. Family court would later assure this in legal documentation.

You had hugged him tightly the first night you were home and assured him that you would be there, for the both of them.

━━━

You would prove that to him when his original babysitter had ghosted him.

“Probably got tired of not being paid.” He had said when you asked why.

You don’t ask for pay. You had a day job that kept you stable enough to live. And as Mike’s hours were night shift, there was really no problem with the arrangement.

It would go on for a few weeks. You hadn’t seen pay, but you didn’t mind. Mike would cook you breakfast when he got home. That was payment enough for you.

But you could notice he wasn’t doing well. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. He had confided in you about the actions of his Aunt Jane. He showed you the papers with bold letters proclaiming a request for a change of custody. His stress and worry made sense to you now.

He would have to prove he was fit, a big ask in a court setting, especially for someone like Mike. You had encouraged him the best you could.

But everything had come to a head on a night when Mike had intended to actually pay you.

He woke you from your light sleep on his couch, alerting you that he was home. He sat his tired body on the recliner.

“There’s a 20 dollar bill in my jacket pocket.”

His eyes are closed as he speaks. It seems the night has been a rough one for him. “You don’t have to, but thank you.” You find the jacket lying on the kitchen table. You feel slightly bad as you reach your hand in to find the bill, but your guilt falls into confusion as your fingers brush the tiny bottle inside.

You let your eyes travel over the orange bottle in your hands. You furrow your brows. You turn to face the recliner he sits in.

"Mike."

He turns his head to face you, tired eyes falling on yours. He sees the bottle in your hands and you can see a sense of uncertainty and dread fall across his features.

"What are these? Sleeping pills?"

He immediately tenses, as if he had been avoiding this topic with everyone. But he responds quietly, “Yes.”

You fall silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. Realistically, there was nothing wrong with sleeping pills. People use them all of the time to sleep. But Mike seems hesitant to cover the topic of these pills and why he uses them.

An additional concern comes up in the way he had stuffed them in his jacket pocket. Why was he taking them to work? You hate the way your thoughts sound like the micromanagement of a mother, but all you can see is the bright yellow of the custody papers and Abby’s sweet face in your mind.

“Have you been taking these at work?”

He’s silent. It’s enough of an answer for you. You sigh as you sit the bottle down on the kitchen counter. You’ve known he wasn’t well. The incident that had gotten him fired from his last job, the dark circles under his eyes, the hardness about him, it all worried you. But you had always chose to let him live. Let him make his mistakes.

“Mike, talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

He lets out a spiteful scoff as if the conversation is beneath his worries at the moment. He lets out a shaky sigh. “I feel connected to him there. I don’t know why, but I do.”

There’s no doubt in your mind who he is referring to. His baby brother. The one he couldn’t save. You let him continue.

“If I can put myself into the right state of mind, I can see it. I can watch it over and over. And if I try hard enough maybe I might see who took him.”

He voice drifts off to a quiet and weak tone, “That’s all that matters to me.”

You can tell he’s hurt by the way that his voice comes out strained and weak, and it hurts you too. It’s not as if you couldn’t understand the pain of the situation. He’d cried to you all those years back when it first occurred. What you can’t understand is how he could let it ruin his relationship with Abby. Abby who is alive and well. Abby who, even if discreet, sees Mike as the moon and stars.

“And what about that little girl who sits around and draws you all day long?”

It makes you feel like a bitch to even say such a thing to him, but if it gives him a shake maybe it’d be worth it. “What about her?”

He stands still as a statue, emotions shifting across his face as he processes the words you’ve shot at him. You’re sure they strike like a bullet. His mouth opens and closes again, so you speak again.

“I know how badly you want to bring him back, Mike. To bring him back and be able to pretend none of that ever happened.”

He furrows his brows and you can the see the hurt flood his expression.

“But you’re going to lose them both if you don’t get your shit together.”

You sigh. You hate the way you sound like a mother scolding a child. You take a shaky breath. “Do you think that this job is really good for you? I mean-“ He cuts you off with a scoff and a laugh.

His tense attitude has you uncomfortable and defensive. You hate the way your voice becomes strained as you speak. “I just think it’s taking a toll on you.”

“I need this job, otherwise I’m never gonna see her again.”

And of course you know that. He needs a job to look good for a court that’s supposed to be able to decide if he’s right to take care of his sister. But what good does a job do on paper if the court can clearly see the way his mental stability is shaky? He hesitates and meets your eyes with a tense look as he speaks,

“You’re here to babysit Abby, not me.”

You stand silently in front of him for a moment before grabbing your coat. You turn toward him. You can see the quirk of regret on his expression, but he doesn’t speak, doesn’t take it back.

“It’s gonna take more than a shitty job that drives you crazy to keep her. I think you should find somebody else to babysit Abby.”

There’s malice in your tone and you hate it. But you can’t make excuses for him. You ignore his voice as he says your name quietly. You just let the door close behind you a you walk to your car. You wait for the door to open again behind your back. It doesn’t.

He doesn’t text you either. In fact, you don’t hear from him for another week and you wonder if he’s already replaced you and plans on holding the grudge.

You assume he must have. He must have found another babysitter for Abby. It seemed he was saving money to actually pay whoever took that role.

You can’t stop yourself from becoming more and more sad as the week goes on. You find yourself worrying more and more about Mike. And Abby. There’s no doubt in your mind that Jane was still adamant on proving in court that Mike was an unfit guardian.

You don’t know why you feel as though your presence could somehow remedy that. You don’t know why you feel an ache so deep in your heart. Friendship breakups are common. But Mike was different.

You still don’t let yourself text him. You would give him the power to choose that route. To choose you and the friendship you had given him since you were both children. And by the end of the week you have to force yourself to sleep.

And by the end of the week you get what you had secretly hoped for.

━━━

The knock on your door is urgent. You're half asleep as you rise out of the comfort of your bed. Your feet press against the cold floor as you rush to see who it could be. As you glance through the peephole you're met with those familiar black curls.

You open the door swiftly, shivering at the cool breeze that flows in. He looks like hell. Abby stands at his side. You're stunned, "Oh my God." You open the door wider and usher the two of them in.

Abby seems to be physically uninjured, while Mike's face is bloodied and bruised. You whisper to Mike,

"What the hell happened?"

He looks to Abby before he answers. "Abby should get some rest while we talk." You nod immediately. "Of course. She can sleep in my bed while I patch you up."

You lead the young girl to the bed and ensure she's tucked in. She thanks you quietly before you leave the room. You grab some first aid supplies from the bathroom cabinet on your way back.

"Sit."

You point Mike in the direction of the couch. He winces as you wipe the open cuts with alcohol wipes. You raise an eyebrow, “ You look like hell, Mike.” He scoffs in response.

“So you gonna tell me who did this to you, or am I just gonna have to keep wondering?”

Mike hesitates. You stop your movements to look at him with concern. He shakes his head, “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.” You sigh,

“Mike, I know you. Just tell me.”

And so he does. He explains everything down to the little details he can remember. It sounds crazy, it absolutely does. But you can’t bring yourself to think he’s faking it.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw. She knows what she saw.” He points in the direction of the room Abby was soundly sleeping in.

“I believe you.”

He closes his eyes and exhales a large breath. You continue to clean the cuts along his face and head. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.” He nods. There’s still an awkward tension between the two of you. He’s upset with himself for letting you leave the way you had, and you’re ashamed of yourself for letting him push you away. You break the silence at the same time,

“You know-“

“I’m sorry-“

You can’t help but laugh a little, and he smiles weakly back at you.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” You continue.

He shrugs. “You were just looking out for me. I understand that now.” It means a lot coming from Mike. He’s stubborn, not usually one to admit when he’s wrong. It makes the moment all the more sincere. You smile slightly, letting a hand brush his cheek where a bruise is blossoming under the skin.

“I wouldn’t have said what I did if I didn’t care about you.”

He nods slowly and leans his cheek into your caress. You can feel the warmth of his hand as he lets it fall to your hip. His voice falls to a whisper.

“I care about you too.”

You smile and swipe a thumb over his bottom lip, where the plush skin has split from impact and smeared blood across his pale chin. He groans as he leans up, it’s only then that you notice the large gash on his side.

He attempts to stand, hobbling on his injured leg. “Mike,” He turns toward your bedroom, ready to grab Abby and get out of your hair. When he turns his back, you can see the blood seeping through his shirt and the large tear across his back. You grab his hand,

“Mike.”

He faces you again, letting a quick glance fall to your now connected hands. “Let her sleep, she’s alright. Let me help you.”

He stands awkwardly in front of your bathroom counter. His muscles flex with each touch of your fingers around his wounds, his fingers gripping the counter until his knuckles are white.

“I think it’d be best if you took this off.”

You’re awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his long sleeve shirt. He meets your gaze in the mirror and you feel small. Your voice is nearly a whisper, “I- I just can’t see.”

You stare at the floor as he pulls the shirt over his head. The gash is messy, but not deep enough to require stitches. Regardless, it’s covered in a thick layer of blood and sweat. You usher him to turn, and you see that the cut on his side is not better.

He can see the way your eyebrows screw together. “Is it that bad?” His voice has a touch of dread hidden in its tone. “I mean,” You glance at him.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but you need to clean them or they’re gonna get infected.”

He swallows and nods. You walk to the shower, turning the knobs and adjusting the water to an appropriate and comfortable temperature. You clear your throat, “Here. I’ll, uh, I’ll let you…do your thing.”

You turn on your heels to give him privacy. As soon as your fingers touch the metallic surface of the doorknob, his hand catches your free hand, pulling gently. You turn toward him, meeting his eye. He pulls you closer and carefully pulls you into an embrace. You’re worried you’ll catch his wounds with your hands so you let them hover above his skin, not actually touching. But you want to.

You can feel his breath on your neck where he’s buried his face. He speaks into the sensitive skin, “Thank you. I don’t thank you enough.” That’s the moment you finally let your hands rest on his skin.

“You don’t have to thank me, Mike. I do it because I care about you.” You gently brush your fingers across his upper back, avoiding his cut. “Besides, you’d do it for me.”

He pulls himself from your neck, and you drop your hands from his back gently, expecting him to pull out of the embrace. But he stays close to you and only pulls back enough to see your face. Your cheeks are so hot. You can feel it and you know he can probably see it. He keeps his hands at your sides, just above your hips in a way that feels respectful. You allow yourself to put your hands on his forearms, thumbs resting in the bend of his elbows.

“Your water is gonna get cold.”

It’s a whisper as it comes out. He simply nods but doesn’t drop his hands from your sides. You smile shyly at him.

“Come with me.”

Your face is instantly hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the steam that’s building in the room and around the two of you. With your eyes wide and your mouth opening but no words coming out, he looks at you with hesitation, like he can’t believe the words actually left his mouth.

You can see the fear building on his expression the longer the silence drags on. Thoughts are racing through your head. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of this. You loved him. There’d always been a flutter in your stomach and a heat in your cheeks that let you know that perhaps it could be more than a friendship. You want that. But is this really how it’s going to happen?

You imagine the two of you going from childhood friends to becoming well acquainted with each other’s bodies in the span of one stressful night after not speaking for nearly a week. But there are no alarm bells going off in your head. You can’t bring yourself to feel ashamed.

So you kiss him. With his arms still around you and the heat from his bare chest creating a sense of protection from everything. With the whirl of water hitting the tub filling your ears. With the image of Abby sleeping soundly in your bedroom in your mind.

When you pull away, he looks at you with a sense of longing you’ve not seen on him before. You don’t want to say a word, not right now. It’ll be complicated. You know it will be. And you’ll have to have that conversation eventually, but right now the only thing you want is the heat of the water and the silk of his skin against yours.

So you finally unwrap yourself from him to begin working the buttons on your shirt. You’ve turned your brain off momentarily. Your fingers are on autopilot as they remove each article of clothing. If you allowed yourself to think, you’d surely turn in on yourself from the shame.

But when you’re finally bare and displayed in front of him, he doesn’t speak. He only looks with a fondness in his eyes that goes beyond a lustful stare. He slowly works his pants off his injured figure, wincing in the process, and soon he’s just as bare as you.

You’re shaking and cursing yourself internally for doing so. God, why were you shaking? You know he notices as he reaches his hand out to touch your arm lightly, grounding you in reality, and speaks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. More than okay.

The water feels heavenly as it beats against the skin of your back. Mike hobbles into the shower after you. He’s hesitant as you usher him to switch with you. It’s gonna hurt, but it’s necessary.

Your fingers lightly brush the wound on his back. He'd already been wincing slightly from the sting of the water, but your touch has him tensing immediately. You grab a cloth and dampen it enough to be effective in cleaning the general blood and grime from the afflicted wound.

The moment your cloth cover hand touches the  wound, he cries out through closed teeth, "Fucking- fuck!" His hands are planted against the shower wall in front of him. He bites his lip, holding in the whimpers of pain, trying his hardest not to wake Abby.

"Shh. It's okay, Mikey."

You let a gentle hand fall to his non injured side, brushing his skin. You're trying to sooth his tense and pained form as much as possible.

Soon enough you have both gashes cleaned up and ready to be bandaged. Mike turns to face you in the shower. His face still has a slight touch of discomfort to it, but he smiles weakly at you.

“Thank you.”

You smile back and nod. You’ve hardly said a word outside of attempting to sooth his pain with sweet words. The cold is starting to seep in from the tiny crack in the shower curtain. You can feel tiny goosebumps beginning to form on your skin. He frowns slightly and breaks the silence again.

“Did I cross a line…with this?”

Your head is already shaking before you can even comprehend the question. Like your body knows the answer before your mind does. “No, Mike.” He hesitates in his response, standing still and quiet before stepping towards you.

He seems to be able to move around a little better. You’re not sure if it’s the water cleaning the previously irritated wounds or if it’s the adrenaline pumping through his body. Either way you’re thankful as his hands are grabbing at your face and pulling you into another kiss.

It’s sloppier than the previous kiss you had shared, and he’s pushed you back so far that your back is hitting the cold tile of the shower wall. A fog has taken over your mind as you reach around his shoulders, digging your fingers into the plush muscle of his back.

The feeling of his tongue swiping into your mouth has sent you entirely mad. You’re whining slightly at the feeling and your eyes are half lidded. You can’t even think of the fact that this is your childhood best friend kissing you. Making you shudder. You can’t find it in you to care, you want him.

“Mikey…”

It’s a whispered moan as you let your head fall back against the tile, exposing the delicate skin of your neck to his wandering mouth.

Despite his injured form, his hands are tight around you. You'd thought of this before, in the heat of the night alone in your high school bedroom, hormones taking over completely.

You'd imagined the strong grip of his hands and the contrast of his plush lips. The bite of white teeth and soothing warmth of the hot water.

It’s absolutely divine, you think. He is divine. You know you’ll have dark bruises on your neck from the way he bites. You can’t help but run a hand through the hair on the back of his head and tug slightly. The moan is elicits rumbles through your neck and you want more.

You’re absolutely drunk off of the feeling of his body being this close to yours, nearly intertwined. You don’t even think when your nails swipe the cut on his back. That is until he lets out a yelp in the crook of your neck and promptly jump back.

You’re wide eyed immediately, realizing what you’d just done.

“I’m- I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mike.”

You can still see the remnants of a wince on his face but he laughs. And you find yourself letting out a nervous laugh with him. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

You laugh again, holding the palm of your head to your forehead.

“We should probably get out. It’s getting cold.”

You nod.

━━━

You manage to sneak past Abby’s sleeping figure long enough to grab old clothes from your room. You find yourself thanking the universe than Abby is a heavy sleeper.

You’re also thankful that you hadn’t given Mike back an old t-shirt that he had left in your home years ago. He smiles at you when you hand it to him. He puts it on and examines the familiar print on the front.

“You’ve been holding this one hostage, huh?”

You gently nudge his shoulder and let out a chuckle. “Shut up.”

You’ve layered blankets in the middle of your living room floor. You speak as you lay pillows down on the makeshift palette. “Abby is sleeping peacefully, I’m not letting you drive home tonight, and there’s no way I’m letting you sleep on my tiny couch.”

You point exaggeratedly at the “bed” you’ve created for the two of you. “Ta-da.” You let yourself fall back onto the layers of pillows and blankets. It’s surprisingly cushioned. You sigh. “Actually not that bad, Mikey.”

He watches you with a smile from his seat on your couch. “You’ve really out done yourself.” He slides off the couch and into the layers of blankets and pillows next to you. He turns to rest on his uninjured side, facing you. It’s dark in the room, but you’ve left one lamp on. You can see his features glow under the warm light. You brush a hand on his cheek lightly.

“I’m glad you didn’t die tonight, Mike.”

He snickers, but you’re serious. The thought of his face on the news, just another tragedy at Freddy’s, haunts you. “I’m serious.”

He simply stares at you. “You’re not gonna go back there, right?” He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna take care of her. I can’t keep a job.”

Your thumb brushes at his cheek, soothing his tension. “I’ll help you. When have I ever left you alone in this?” You shiver as you think of the only time you’d walked out on him after that heated argument. You push the thought away and close your eyes.

“Really love you, Mike. You’re my best friend.”

You open your eyes hesitantly and you can see the shine of moisture in his. “Love you too.”

You place a kiss on his lips. It’s chaste, but full of a deep warmth. It leaves you wondering what comes next.

You tuck yourself in close to him.

“Goodnight, Mike.”

[joels-darlin]

Take Care

Pairings: Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, brief mention of alcohol, mentions of stress.

Summary: After a rough week at work Pedro wants to take care of you.

Word count: 1289

Author Note: I woke up this morning inspired to write and this little piece came together as I was getting ready to start my work day. Hope you all enjoy, any feedback is appreciated <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was late. The house being virtually silent except, coming from the office in the next room, the sounds of you clicking away furiously at the keyboard. The atmosphere was particularly comforting to him as he sat mulling over the script for the next job lined up.

You worked too hard he already knew that and on multiple occasions had expressed that you didn't have to work at all, he had enough for the two of you to live comfortably. But he also knew that you loved your job, eyes lighting up with pure passion every time you spoke about it. A wave of worry washed over him briefly remembering that it was a very busy period, the project you where working on just a mere few weeks away from release so it was all hands on deck. The only comfort being that he knew you had a great team around you who where a solid support system. Everyday you made him proud and the moment he sees your name on something you had poured your soul into then his heart will probably burst of out his chest.

Leaving the iPad to one side for a moment he left the couch in search of you, mainly to put the niggles at the back of his mind to rest but also ask if anything was needed. He had eaten alone early in the evening as you where stuck in endless meetings. No bother to him but he was concerned you weren’t getting enough nutrition - making a mental note to ask if food had crossed your mind yet.

Stood in the doorway of the office he took in the sight of you hunched over at the desk, fingers working away furiously. You had a small scowl on your face which told him something wasn’t right, there it was again that wave of worry sharp in his chest. Opting for the mix of comfy but professional then your upper body adorned a smart t-shirt and then on the bottom half those damn Grogu pyjama pants you absolutely wore to death. He loved that you where a bit of a nerd, it was cute. Pedro’s mind wondered for a second upon laying eyes on you again. He knew you where a fan when you met, the sheer surprise and acknowledgement in your face as you locked eyes with him for the first time - there was also that well worn Grogu backpack you clutched so tightly like a prized possession.

What he loved the most though you treated him like the normal human being he is, it was refreshing to say the least. After accidentally bumping into you whilst at his local coffee shop (completely at fault and too busy looking at his phone). The contents of the cup once held in your tiny hands ended up spilt on the floor. Apologising profusely he quickly ordered you a fresh one, holding your small hand up to stop him from continuing to grovel and with a simple but breath taking smile said “Accidents happen, don’t worry”. Pedro knew he was done from that moment and quickly suggested fetching a table. Normally he wouldn’t stay and chat in fear of being recognised but you caught his eye leaving him wanting to know more. It was just general chit chat but he hung onto every word that familiar sparkle in your eyes showing through so clearly. He still felt bad for the coffee incident and at least wanted to make it up to you but on some level this felt different. After for what felt like hours the conversation was interrupted by a phone call from his agent and he had to dash.

It happened again a week later in that same coffee shop (minus the bumping and spilt coffee this time) he spotted you instantly when ordering his drink - tucked away in the corner head buried in a book. Grabbing an extra coffee on his order he headed straight for your table, eager to talk again. Both knowing this was probably going to become a habit you exchanged phone numbers and what started out as friends for the first few months grew into the solid loving relationship you where in now, 2 years later. He knew how lucky he was.

”P…you okay?” your voice brought him back to the present moment eyes searching his. Completely lost in his thoughts, unsure of how long he had been stood in the doorway. “I’m okay mi amor, I came to check on you but obviously got distracted” he chuckled moving from the door to behind the office chair. Pedro wrapped his warm arms around your shoulders planting a gentle kiss atop your head. You leant into his embrace taking a moment to breathe, the stress of the day was starting to get too much and you knew it was time to clock off. “Worried about you cariño, have you eaten today?” he half-whispered against your ear. As if on queue then your stomach growled “I’ll take that as a no then…come on or I’m resorting to other tactics” he laughed softly tapping your shoulder and freeing you from his embrace.

Curious you spun in your chair facing him cocking one eyebrow “Tactics hey? like what Pedrito?” Oh he loves it when you use that nickname, it’s gets him. Every. Damn. Time. Pedro didn’t even think his lips just smashing against yours kissing you passionately. Moving to wrap your arms around his neck pulling him closer you continue the heated exchange, his hands coming up to cradle your face gently. He moved back leaning his forehead against yours after a few moments, both breathless. “How about a frozen pizza & some wine? then we can spend what’s left of the evening on the couch”. You pondered for a moment. Technically you had done all your tasks for the day as well as the extra thrown in last minute (hence why you where working so late again). Plus it was Friday - with no work obligations for the next day then you where free to enjoy after a stressful week. “That sounds perfect to me…I’ll be out in a minute” you smiled at him.

It wasn’t a minute…more like 10 when you had finally logged off and headed for the kitchen, finding Pedro stood near the hot oven sipping on a glass of wine. “Got your favourite…” he beamed pouring a serving in the empty wine glass “and pizza is nearly done, go get on the couch querida”. Like a true gentlemen he doted on you bringing the pizza fresh from the oven, stealing a slice for himself of course, and topping the wine glass up when required . He knew it was a rough one and aimed to care for you the same way you do for him when he has bad days at the office. One bottle of wine in and a random film was playing on the TV. No idea what was even going on though because you did not pay any attention - too busy wrapped up in your head about the man snuggled up next to you. Turning your head to look at him for a moment before reaching over, laying a hand flat on his chest for support, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. This caught his attention eyes locking with yours. “Thankyou P” you said softly. He didn't need to ask why, he already knew, flashing you a toothy grin pulling your frame closer to his. Life wasn’t always perfect but with Pedro in it then it made things a hell of a lot easier.

[writingonleaves]

things you never said (things you'll never say to me) - nico hischier

pairing: nico hischier x original female character

warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, not my traditional fluff folks, very little dialogue, kinda a ramble disguised into a piece lol, google translated german, projection?? is that a valid warning

inspired by + title: "things i wish you said" by sabrina carpenter

word count: 2.8k

author's note: got into my feels randomly for this (incredible) song and decided to write something with it. also a part of @wyattjohnston 's lowkey loverfest 2k24!! hope you all enjoy this melancholy ride and please let me know what you think <3

*****

Nico Hischier has always been a leader. 

You ask anyone in Naters or Bern who knew him growing up and they would say the same thing — he’s a polite, young boy with so much talent and a sensible mind. He may be the youngest of three, but everyone’s always turned to Nico for guidance. With a calming voice paired with a warm smile, it’s rare for Nico to steer anyone wrong. 

And he sees it in himself too. Even when he was a rookie, when the C stitched into his jersey was only a blurred dream, he still felt like he had to lead by example. No one was expecting that of him, he knows that now, but he was a first overall pick, the weight of a losing team’s hopes on his shoulders. If he crumbled, those supporters’ hopes fell with him. His own hope would fall with him. 

It took a few years, a pandemic, another first overall pick, a shit ton of roster changes, a new coach and other things to walk into a locker room that wasn’t used to losing. And Nico prides himself as being a leader in that transition. C on his jersey or not, he would’ve done it. Because he doesn’t know how not to.

Leanna always said he didn’t know how to turn it off. 

When Nico had first met Leanna Spritz, it honestly was one of the worst first impressions he’s ever given. It was the morning after a brutal 6-1 loss against the fucking Flyers. The final score itself was bad, but the fact that it was against the Flyers rubbed more salt into the wound. He knew Lindy was gonna bag skate them all to hell and back the morning after and he just really wanted his cappuccino before to take away some of the bitterness. 

All up in his head, he had crashed literally into Leanna. Before they both could comprehend, her cold brew had spilled. Somehow, Nico got away with an unnoticeable splash on his hoodie and no spillage from his own drink. But Leanna wasn’t so lucky. Her brown sweater wasn’t dark enough to hide the fact that half of her cold brew was on it while the other spilled to the ground. 

“Fuck,” Nico had exclaimed, eyes widening and darting between her now coffee stained sweater, the empty cup on the ground and her red hair that only glistened with the sun rays. “Shit! I am so sorry. That’s totally my fault.”

Leanna had waved him away with a small chuckle as she dug into her purse for stray napkins. Far too nice for someone who now had coffee all over them because of him. “It’s okay. Mistakes happen.”

Nico looked at his watch and grimaced. Shit. He was going to be late to practice. And that would be even worse than usual with their horrible performance the night before. “Listen. I really want to buy you a coffee to make up for my clumsiness, but I’m gonna be late to work and-”

Leanna had nodded in understanding, lips quirked up. “Don’t worry about it. Promise. Go. Don’t be late for work.”

He had been so frazzled that all he remembered doing was blurting out another apology before practically running away, partially from embarrassment but also because he really did have to go. 

A week later, Nico went back to the coffee shop. In the back of his mind was the redhead who he still owed a coffee to. But Nico’s also realistic and he knew he’d probably never see her again. 

While he was patiently waiting in the long line, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He braced himself to interact with a fan, but turned around and was pleasantly surprised by who he did see. 

“I thought that was you,” she had said, pink beanie over her hair and a twinkle in her eye. “Not going to spill coffee again on me, are you? I’m wearing white today.”

Nico swallowed before his brain turned back on and he grinned. “Good eye. And no. I promise I’ll be less clumsy today. And I’m less in a rush.” They were next in line to order and he ordered first before turning to her. She had tried to deny him but he just raised an eyebrow until she gave the barista her order. 

“I’m really sorry again,” Nico said as they had shuffled out of line to wait for their drinks. “I hope the sweater didn’t stain.”

Leanna waved him off with her bright smile. “That sweater has been through too much for some coffee to ruin it. You don’t need to worry, Captain.”

Nico had been shocked that she knew who he was, which, in hindsight, is dumb. He’s not Jack, but he gets recognized a good amount around New Jersey still.

He cleared his throat. “Nico is fine.”

She smiled. “Okay, Nico. Well, I’m Leanna. Thank you for paying for my coffee. You didn’t have to, by the way, especially to clear your conscience.”

“That’s not why-well, it is. But I also, uh, are you in a rush?”

Nico remembers that day so well still, his English failing him despite living in North America for over five years as he basically asked Leanna on their first date right there and then. He remembers being thankful that she took some pity on him with her sweet smile and led them to a table. He probably would’ve stood there stuttering like a fool if she didn’t cut in.

“Nico?”

Nico blinks himself out of his memories as Jack walks into his living room. Sometimes he questions if he should’ve given Jack a key. 

“Hey. What’s up?”

“We have skate,” Jack gives him a look. “Dude, take a shower. Quickly. Or we’ll be late.”

“Right,” Nico says, stumbling over to the shower. As the water’s warming up, his eyes stop at a purple bottle tucked in the corner of the sink. Hair oil. Leanna always joked that she couldn’t live without it. His hands twitch to reach for the bottle just so he can smell the grapefruit scent, but he forces himself into the shower instead. 

He can hear Nina’s voice so clearly. Throw it away, she’d say in their mother-tongue that realistically Nico will never not be fluent in but sometimes is scared will slip away. Nina liked Leanna a lot, actually, the one time they met when she came to Jersey to visit last year. But Nina is also Nico’s sister, and cursed her name many times when Nico called her crying, waking her up in the middle of the night. She had stayed on the phone with him for three hours, letting him cry.

He forces himself to take a shower. To wake up a bit and shift his focus to the upcoming skate and game tonight. They’re playing the Rangers, which is just always a grind. He needs to be all in.

Nico keeps to himself while getting ready for practice, putting on his gear quietly while his teammates chatter about something or another around him. He speaks quickly to the equipment team about his skates and smiles in thanks. He catches a whiff of the perfume of their head of PR as she walks past in the hallway, and Nico swallows. 

Realistically, he knows it’s not the same one. But it’s floral and smells like jasmine, so it might as well be. 

As he’s driving home, he has the radio down low. He was never the one to fuss about putting his music on in the car. Because the world just works like that, a song that he doesn’t know the title to comes on. He hums along, because Leanna always played this song.

Instinctively, his fingers twitch to reach out to someone who won’t ever be in his passenger seat ever again. He can hear her voice, her thigh under his palm. It’s not safe to drive with one hand, she’d say with an amused laugh interlaced in her voice. He would always roll his eyes before giving her thigh a squeeze and keeping his hand there for the majority of their journey. 

He remembers that sentence bringing him comfort when they were driving to her sister’s house in upstate New York. He was scared shitless to meet her whole family for the first time to celebrate her cousin’s birthday. It was below freezing point outside, but his hands were so clammy that one would’ve thought it was summer. 

Leanna had put her hand in his hair at the nape of his neck. He had immediately calmed down. 

He swears if he focuses hard enough he can still smell the green tea shampoo Leanna used. It was always interesting to him, because the first thing he would think of when he saw her flaming red hair wasn’t green tea. It deserved something more bold attached to it. Like orange. Or vanilla. Or coconut.

Because Leanna was exactly that. Bold. Bright. Crashing into the lives of everyone in her path with her bright smile, loud laughter and a personality that sucked you in. 

Nico stops at a red light and absentmindedly looks to the right. His breath catches at the sight of a woman walking a beagle. Leanna always said that once she was more settled down, a beagle was the kind of dog she wanted to get, just like the dog she had by her side throughout her whole childhood. 

At one point, Nico had thought she meant settling down in Jersey. Never did she give the indication while they were together that she had meant London. 

He couldn’t force himself to unfollow Leanna on Instagram after the break-up. He catches himself way too often seeing if she still follows him. She does. And she even likes his posts most of the time. He checks.

Nico shouldn’t be surprised. Even though she cried so much when they broke up and he couldn’t handle it, through tears, she wished him nothing but the best. Even as she was actively breaking his heart.

As he pulls into the parking garage for his apartment complex, he kills the engine and just sits there. He should be focusing on the game tonight. Focusing on how they need to stop taking stupid penalties. Focusing on their positioning in the offensive zone. 

You think too much, honey. Leanna would say, kissing his forehead twice, something she started doing to calm him down. You just need to play hockey. Least that’s what you always tell me. Everything else will follow. 

And he would never admit it out loud — especially to Jonas — but he still repeats those words in his head. He’s not sure if it works, but it’s like a mantra. A routine. And hockey players know more than anyone how important routines are and how difficult they are to change. 

It’s been two months and three days. It’s annoying that Nico can still hear her voice in his head, clear as day. He hopes one day he’lll never be able to remember. But he also dreads the day that he’ll forget what she sounds like. 

He walks up into his apartment and pours out a glass of water, downing it in one go. The sun’s out for the first time in two weeks, and a small smile spills on his lips as he admires the sunlight through his glass windows. His eyes shift to a spot on one of the tables by the window on the right, where it seems like something is shining. His curiosity takes over and he walks over, a reminder popping into his brain that he needs to dust his apartment. Why does dust accumulate so quickly anyways? 

His stomach drops. One of her combs placed nonchalantly behind one of his plants. The shine is coming from the light hitting the red hair caught between the bristles. 

What the fuck?

Nico closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before hastily grabbing the comb and tossing it into the trash. She never officially moved in with him, but she was around the apartment enough to leave some things lying around here and there. He thought he had thrown everything out. Or more accurately, he trusted Jesper, Timo and Jack to do it for him during a particularly bad Saturday afternoon two weeks after everything fell to shit. 

He checks the time and sighs. He needs to nap or else everything will be thrown off. Checking his phone to make sure no one needs him, he plugs it in to charge by his bedside, ignoring a text from Nina he’ll answer when he wakes up.

It’s a text she sends a few times a week when she senses that her younger brother’s having a harder day. From almost 4,000 miles, she still knows. Nico’s always loved his sister, but he’s never felt more grateful to have her as he has in these last few months. 

eins zu zehn?? ❤️

One to ten, it translates to. On a scale of one to ten, how shitty or good are you feeling about it today? 

Nico sighs, responds back with a 6, and wills his mind to rest. 

Somehow, he wakes up decently well rested to his alarm. He stays in bed a few extra minutes, getting his mindset ready for gametime. He chooses to wear the gray three piece suit tonight. One of his more fancier fits. It is the Rangers, after all. 

It was Leanna’s favorite suit of his. She always joked he “ruined the look” when he slapped on his beloved white beanie. I love your hair. I wish you’d show it off more, she’d say.

He digs out the beanie from his clean laundry. 

He always leaves an hour or so to himself before he has to go to the rink. He usually spends it tidying up or doing things around his place to clear his head so he can come back after the game and just crash. 

Today, he replays the breakup in his mind. Or what he remembers of it, since he blocked a lot of it out. 

When you picture your future, do you see me in it at all? He had choked out, holding Leanna’s hands in his for what was the last time. 

It hadn’t helped that she had also been crying as she said her next words. Neeks, baby. It’s not you, it’s me. And I hate that I’m pulling that out, but it’s true. Maybe this isn’t the right time for us. 

Why can’t it be? Nico had said. Why can’t we make it work?

Maybe in the future, if things are different. She had said, biting her trembling lip. But even then, Nico knew they were empty promises. She’s too stubborn of a person to not bend the world her way. She just doesn’t want Nico to be a part of that world.

It’s not fair, he knows that realistically, but oftentimes he wonders if she ever loved him at all. That thought especially rode his mind after he saw her post a story on Instagram earlier last week. It was clearly a soft launch, with her hand in the hand of some faceless guy over dinner. Nico ended up scoring two goals that night out of sheer adrenaline and anger. 

Because all he’s ever wanted was for Leanna Spritz to be happy. Even now. Even after all of this. Even if it’s not with him. 

But fuck, she’s clearly moving on. Why can’t he?

He blinks, collapsing on his couch in the living room and staring at the wall. The last time he heard from her was a month ago, when he had gone down after a rough hit during a game against Minnesota. He ended up only being out for the next two games, but the hit hadn’t been pretty. His chest had taken the brunt of the damage. Everyone, including him, had been relieved that it wasn't more serious.

While he was getting checked out by the trainers the next morning, his phone had buzzed and he almost threw up. 

Leanna Spritz✨

I saw the hit last night. Hope you’re okay. Listen to the trainers. 

Nico was angry. What right did she have to text him that? 

But then, he just felt sad. That bottomless pit in his stomach opened up. He felt nothing but emptiness. 

His phone buzzes, this time with a text from Timo, and Nico takes a deep breath. It’s game time. No more crying over his ex-girlfriend. 

As he’s sliding on his beanie in the bathroom, he catches sight of the hair oil again. He picks it up, smells it, before throwing it in the trash. It lands on the bottom of the can with a final thud. He clicks all the lights off, makes sure he has everything he needs, grabs his key off the hook and shuts the door. 

Two hours later, everyone’s getting hyped up. He gives a mini impromptu speech, Jack slaps his back way too hard and Nico smiles, dimples and all.

He takes a deep breath before his blades touch the ice.

[hmslusitania]

Ask meme again! 19. “Of course I still love you, why would you even ask me that?” for RoyDonna!!!

sorry it is days late and also that I'm posting this at [you're asleep o'clock] lol

Donna sighs and lets her head fall back against the bulkhead.

It hadn’t been a bulkhead twenty minutes ago. Twenty minutes ago, it had been a hallway in the Watchtower satellite, and the Titans had been dispatched up to test it out, kick the tyres, see how the place was holding up since the Justice League had abandoned it.

Since now, the Justice League is coming back, and they’ll want a seat of observation, and so…

And so they’d gone to test, and Vic had spun up the systems while the rest of the crew tested for structural integrity, and—

And, the bomb, which whichever rogue-of-the-week had affixed to the central engine years earlier, had finally gone off, and had shattered the Watchtower into a zillion pieces and now what had once been a hallway, and is a section of what is functionally the shatterproof glass of the Watchtower base components, is an autonomous shuttle, and Donna is stuck in it.

The Watchtower had been comprehensively designed to shatter into contained pieces in the worst-case-scenario explosion situation, and each segment has its own emergency supply stash, just enough to last for the length of time to either crash land onto Earth in [destination unguessable] or follow the automatic targeting trajectory towards the other nearest possible location: the Justice League’s former Moon base. The protocols had been Bat-designed, and so they’re the far side of NASA for over-preparedness, and probably, a squadron of compatriots could survive so far as Mars in any given section of the Watchtower without too many problems besides going insane from cabin fever.

Donna doesn’t have to worry about the months’ long journey to Mars, at least. The segment’s management AI had helpfully informed them some minutes earlier that they’d been tractored in to the Moon base’s homing signal and should expect to arrive there within forty-eight hours.

“I’ve been on longer, shittier train rides,” Donna’s travelling companion says, resting his wrists on his bent knees and letting his head fall back against the bulkhead on his side of the former hallway.

“Surely, the trains were more comfortable,” Donna says, resting her own wrists on her own bent knees. The Amazonian steel of her bracers hums faintly when it connects with the star fields on her outfit. It’s useful, being able to navigate in space without needing any sort of system, but right now, it only lets her know that they’re in the null-atmosphere nothingness that stretches between Earth and her only natural satellite.

Roy thinks about it for a second and then grimaces. “Honestly? No. And here, we’ve got a much better view.”

He nods significantly towards the bulkhead door that makes up the airlock segment they’re stuck in. It’s only got a small window, but that small window is fairly fixed in the direction of Earth, and… he’s not wrong about the view.

“I don’t suppose they packed any entertainment centres in their little pods,” Roy says a moment later.

“The pods were designed by Bats,” Donna replies. She loves Dick, really, truly. She’s entertained a thought every once in a while that maybe, just maybe, her birth parents had actually been John and Mary Grayson and they’d been under the impression she’d died at birth or something, and that Dick isn’t just the other half of her soul by coincidence, but by originating brotherhood. But in loving him, she also knows him, and she’s fairly certain the Bats amongst them — erroneously considering themselves the most “normal” — wouldn’t have packed entertainment for the days’ long journey to the moon because they’d be busy mentally going over the circumstances that had led to the Watchtower’s abrupt dissolution. An outcome the Bats had not prepared for: boredom.

 “Right,” Roy says, and groans.

“Don’t think you can make it two days without a distraction, Harper?” Donna asks, smiling at him.

Roy laughs, and smiles just a little in return. “You’re plenty distracting all on your own.”

It’s the same sort of flirting he’d done when they’d been idiot teenagers out trying to save the world, when they’d been off again-on again, and never quite serious. But it’s also the same sort of flirting he’d been doing before he’d died, when it might’ve been flippant, but had been, without any doubt, absolutely honest.

Which they… haven’t talked about.

He’d been some zombie thing while the Batman Who Laughs had been trying to destroy the universe, and then he’d turned up at the Titans Academy and then the world had ended for the umpteenth time, and everyone besides her had gotten their previously missing pieces of the multiverse back — since she’d still had hers; the worst curse — and then the beast creatures and Amanda Waller and…

“How’s Lian doing back home?” Donna asks instead.

“She’s incredible,” Roy says, and his smile gets brighter and sadder all at once. “It’s — she’s everything I hoped she could be when she grew up and everything I never wanted for her all at once and most of the time it feels like I’m losing my mind a little.”

Faint tears well up in his eyes and Donna can’t stand it. She slides across the hallway and wraps her arms around his shoulders. She’s glad when he takes the opportunity to hide his face in the junction of her neck and shoulder. She can feel the slight dampness from his eyes, but also the softness from his eyelashes and the tiny, grateful brush of his lips against her clavicle.

“When we’re not lost in space, you should come by some time,” Roy says, voice muffled by Donna’s shoulder. “She’d love to see you.”

“I’d like that,” Donna says, and when Roy clears his throat, she lets go of him. She doesn’t slide back to her side of their hallway-capsule, but sits beside him instead, and after a hesitant minute punctuated by their automated systems guide telling them they have forty-seven hours left of travel time to the moon base, she reaches for his hand.

Roy tangles his fingers in hers and lifts them both up to press a small kiss to the back of her hand before he lets them fall to his thigh.

They’re quiet for a minute, and then Roy clears his throat. “So you, uh, you remember the various iterations of the multiverse. Have either of us ever died like this? Lost in space?”

“We’re not lost,” Donna replies. She lets her head tip sideways onto his shoulder and hums. “And no. The only time I really remember dying, it was the time you ended up getting into an unmarked space ship and flying halfway across the known universe to come get me—”

“Always,” he says without hesitation, the picture of the same man who’d been willing to jump into a theoretically bottomless cavern on target for a sun-eater to try and save her from her fellow Titans of Legend.

“—and the only time I can really remember you dying, it was…”

“Sanctuary,” Roy offers.

Donna hums in agreement, preferring to not think about any of that or that place. “And there was no space ship for me to jump in so I had to content myself with leaving flowers on your grave, and I did not appreciate you coming back from the dead and not telling me. Just so you know.”

“Won’t happen again, promise,” he says, and it’s flippant, but it’s flippant like his flirtation the last few years — where he delivers it with a shield against the vulnerable truth, but where the truth is, well. Vulnerable. “Does that mean you still — I mean, after all of that, you can’t still…”

“Can’t what?” Donna asks, frowning hard enough that the reflection of their faces in the far bulkhead picks up a little of her disapproval.

“Love me,” he says, and he doesn’t let go of her hand or shrug her head off his shoulder but he does… tremble. Just a little.

It breaks her heart, the uncharacteristic vulnerability in his voice. It’s not a conversation they could have without the fantastically shit circumstances they’re in, but in that moment, she’s just a little grateful for it.

“Of course I do,” she says. “During which subsequent apocalypse and my entire country becoming personae non grata for the entire United States was I supposed to fall in love with someone else?”

Roy laughs, just a little, and then he slides his free hand into her hair and tilts her face up so he can kiss her. It’s been years since she’s last kissed him, and she’d nearly forgotten that quite apart from everything else she loves about him, Roy Harper is a damn good kisser.

He’s damn good at quite a few other things, too, and she’s willing to bet that the intervening decade or so since she’d last spent time with him naked has only improved those skills.

And.

Well.

They’ve got 46.5 hours left until the moon. And no entertainment systems.

And perhaps, being temporarily adrift in space is not the worst possible outcome of the Watchtower exploding.

[i-dont-know-what-im-doing-2024]

Workout Tips for beginners/chronic pain

For those of you who don’t know me I am trans and physically disabled (also autistic and have anxiety and depression and ptsd) anyway working out has been something that was totally off the table for me for a long time but lately my energy and motivation have improved somewhat as well as my dysphoria being worse which has made me want to try to working out again.

This legitimately isn’t a post I ever thought I’d be making but being pre T and closeted it felt like the only thing I could do to have some control over my body and I really wanted to try. It took me a couple of months after first getting the idea to actually feel like I was in a place to try and as well as finding a good program. I really didn’t want to put money into this especially because I had no idea how it would go, I’m currently on my second week of working out so I thought I’d share some advice for anyone else in a similar position.

Also, as a disclaimer, not everyone with chronic pain or other disabilities can exercise and there’s definitely been times when I also couldn’t so this purely for people who are in a place where they want to and are safe to try.

- Balance is everything, I say this as a total hypocrite just to be clear but if you haven’t worked out in a long time (I would say it’s been around three years for me) you can’t expect to go super hard right away

- Don’t worry about speed or reps or anything like that, doing your best is the most important thing and trying to take that pressure off yourself helps

- Honestly do fewer reps, shorter times, modify or substitute exercises, skip certain things- none of that is a big deal even if it feels like it is and whether you can do some of it later or not it’s okay

- I don’t see physical results yet which isn’t a surprise but I can feel more muscles when I flex my stomach which is cool and even after a week and a half with a lot of rest days I can do more than I could at the beginning

- Low impact is still a hard workout and it is much easier on your body, highly recommend for people with chronic pain

- Now one of the most important things I’ve learned is that I do not have the option of not warming up and doing cool down stretches, my body cannot handle it if I skip those steps which unfortunately makes everything take so much longer but again for anyone with chronic pain it’s probably better to cut down the harder bits and do a warm up and cool down

- The one time I did skip cool down stretches because I had errands to run and thought walking around would be enough I couldn’t sit or stand up straight the next day because I was in so much pain and the muscles in my hips and legs hurt so badly I had to take a break for several days

- I’ve also found that doing full body stretches after working out significantly reduces pain the next day (at least for me) to the point where after a week of working out I feel more sore than in proper pain

- If certain exercises are too much for your body skip them or do another exercise instead, the pain really isn’t worth it and it’s way too easy to injure yourself or cause a flare up

- Sometimes you can do exercises at the beginning but can’t do multiple reps, I’m serious about listening to your body, especially if you’re disabled. I pushed myself a bit too hard today and managed to hurt my wrist and neck (wrist because I did too many workouts in a plank position and the weight on my wrists was too much, neck from crunch type exercises that strain my neck which can cause headaches/migraines the next day)

- Not related to physical disability but I have some demand avoidance tendencies and personally not telling anyone in my life I’m doing it has been one of the most helpful things in not having to deal with external pressure or expectations (I know for other people outside accountability helps so it just depends on what helps you)

- If money is a concern or you’re not sure if you’ll be able to be consistent long term just working out in underwear is a good option, also there are tons of different types of free bodyweight workouts on YouTube, the only thing I’ve bought so far has been a mat

- Onto the next point, get a mat, preferably s as thick exercise mat with a lot of cushion and not a yoga mat. I didn’t realize there was a difference but there absolutely is and for me having more cushion makes a huge difference on my joints

- I personally have been doing Chloe Ting because I’ve seen a lot of people with a lot of different body types get results after being consistent and because after trying it for a week I feel stronger. That being said they’re also not easy and I have made a lot of adjustments and had to take breaks after causing flare ups but all these tips have helped me find more sustainable ways to exercise instead of doing it once and burning out

- I don’t do explicit cardio EVER, I have tachycardia and get dizzy and lightheaded really easily so even doing bodyweight exercises and low impact my heart rate ranges from 150bpm-180bpm the entire time with breaks.

- Also, drinking lots of water is supposed to be good, I don’t track it but I try to stay hydrated and it probably helps

- Prioritize sleep if you’re able to

- Hot showers after working out also help me manage muscle pain

- Finally for food I’ve been trying not to eat unless I’m actually hungry as I have a habit of eating if I’m bored and trying to incorporate more healthy food into my life rather than cutting anything out. Also healthy being subjective, I’m trying to eat healthier than I used to but that still isn’t like tons of salad and veggies and stuff so whatever you can do is fine

- I’m definitely not following all these myself but I’m working on it and trying to improve

[the-himawari]

A3! Usui Masumi - Translation [R] A New Use for a Crown (2/2)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: (What great weather! Let’s dry the laundry quickly.)

Masumi: I’ll help you, Director.

Izumi: Oh! Masumi-kun, thank yo—ah.

Masumi: …

Izumi: Whoops… I’ll give you 100 yen later.

Masumi: …Sure.

Izumi: In any case, switching the way you call someone is pretty hard… (Seeing Masumi-kun with a crown on is pretty refreshing though…)

-pause-

Masumi: Great job today, Director. I made tea, so have some.

Izumi: Ah, Masumi-kun…

Masumi: …

Izumi: Oops, I did it again… (I’m glad that he’s helping me out like this, but I can’t stop myself from calling him by his name.) (Plus there a penalty, so it kind of feels like I'm being subjected to the carrot and stick approach...)

Masumi: Sorry, Director. It’ll just be a little longer.

Izumi: O-Okay? (Just what in the world is he up to?)

-pause-

Izumi: (I still call him Masumi-kun a lot, but since then, I’ve gradually grown used to calling him “prince”). (Today, I’ll call him prince from the get-go…!)

Masumi: Director.

Izumi: (And here's my chance!) Good morning, prince.

Masumi: …! Good morning, my princess.

Izumi: (I got a response I didn’t expect. W-Welp, I’m feeling kinda embarrassed…)

Masumi: Today marks a week passing, so you don’t have to call me prince anymore.

Izumi: Oh right, you’re not wearing the crown right now… (Urgh… now I feel even more embarrassed.)

Masumi: …But I got to hear a nice line to finish it off. By the way, I’m sorry for imposing a penalty on you.

Izumi: Don’t worry about it… what was the thing that you wanted to do though?

Masumi: Wait in the lounge for me.

-pause-

Izumi: (I was so busy these last few days, but it looks like I’ll be able to relax today.)

Azami: Oh, your skin's lookin’ brighter now.

Izumi: Azami-kun. Maybe the face masks you gave me the other day were effective! Not to mention Masumi-kun also helped me out a ton.

Azami: I see, that’s nice.

*door opens*

Masumi: I’m back.

Izumi: Welcome back, Masumi-kun.

Azami: Hm? Is that bag full of ice cream?

Masumi: I bought them because I want Director to eat them.

Izumi: Gudiva, Baagen Dazs, and Madam Borden*—all of the ice creams are expensive, seasonal flavours…!

Masumi: You seemed really busy lately, so I wanted to give you something that would cheer you up. You probably would’ve liked curry, but it’s hot out right now.

Izumi: I can’t believe you were thinking of that… Thank you, Masumi-kun.

Masumi: Here’s your money back too.

Izumi: Huh?

Masumi: I wanted to give you something that covered your penalty fee, so I just used it as reference for the amount I should buy.

Azami: I see. It was like a surprise then. Nice goin’.

Izumi: Yeah, I’m really happy. Thank you so much.

Masumi: You’re very welcome.

Izumi: Alright, I suppose I’ll have one right away then.

Masumi: They're all yours, so you’re on break until you finish every last one of them. Stay here.

Izumi: Wait, what!

Azami: He went from 0 to 100 real fast… Anyways, eatin’ too much isn’t good either, y’know?

Masumi: But there’s guys who will take them if we leave them in the freezer.

Azami: True. There might be some people who’ll eat ‘em without checkin’ whose they are first.

Izumi: In that case, can we at least eat them together? We can scoop out all the different flavours onto a plate.

Masumi: Sure.

Izumi: Even then, it might be too much to finish… (I’m on break until I finish eating this ice cream… if that’s the case.) Say, Masumi-kun. If you don’t mind, why don’t we make it “ice cream time” together until we finish eating everything?

Masumi: Ice cream time?

Izumi: Like Azami-kun said, I don’t think eating too much is a good idea either. So let’s make some time everyday to eat this ice cream as a break. And for that, let’s put them in a bag with our names written on it and place it in the back of the freezer so it won’t get swiped.

Azami: I see. I agree no one’s gonna overlook the bag. And it’ll be fine if you just get through ‘em little by little each day.

Izumi: Even so, I think it’s going to take quite a while to finish them all. Masumi-kun, if you happen to have some time as well, then why don’t we eat them together?

Masumi: That sounds good. Just call me, and I’ll come over right away every day.

Izumi: Fufu. Alright, then we’ll make today the first day.

Masumi: Once we run out of ice cream, I’ll go buy more. I can do ice cream time with you every single day.

Azami: Err, there’s somethin’ called a limit, y’know?

Izumi: Ahaha…

---

*Parodies on the brands Godiva, Haagen Dazs, and Lady Borden.

previous |

[nickmaghighlights]

Nick Mag Highlights - Nick Mag Presents: Danny Phantom (Fall 2005)

Well, well, well, fancy meeting you here. Welcome back to my blog and the words that inhabit it. Today, Halloween comes early this year when we read through another exciting issue of Nickelodeon Magazine Presents, this time all about Danny Phantom. Boo! Trick-or-Treat! Deck the halls!

And not only is this edition of Nick Mag Highlights spooky, it’s also… pretty chill. Y’know? Just takin’ it easy, reading a handful of comics and probably a crossword puzzle or something. As much as I love researching the kind of stuff Nickelodeon Magazine includes in its articles, sometimes it’s nice to sit back and take things at face value and just see what the state of Nickelodeon was like at any given time, and these short-and-sweet issues of Nick Mag Presents are the perfect venue for just that.

But why exactly am I tackling this purportedly Halloween-themed issue in August? Well, mainly it’s because that new Danny Phantom graphic novel just came out… two weeks ago (oops). And I really enjoyed it! So I’ve since been in a big Danny Phantom mood lately. I even ended up re-watching the whole first season and had a blast doing so. This show was a real obsession of mine as a kid, so maybe this blog post is also a way for me to give it its dues.

This issue can be found online here, read along… if you dare!

Another Nick Mag Presents, another humorously wordy introduction. If you’re unfamiliar, basically all these Presents-styled issues have a panel on the first page with a character essentially advertising the book to you and talking about all the comics and activities included inside. This one here features Danny and an understandably perturbed ghost, for example. 

Since these issues were usually sold in stores as opposed to through a mail subscription, I suppose this is the issue’s way of hooking you in and explaining to you why you should buy it. I think a kid would probably be more inclined to just flip through the book and arrive at the same conclusion, but I guess this approach doesn’t hurt anybody.

But anyway, let’s see here… aw, only two wholly new comics? The Fairly Oddparents-themed issue I took a look at previously had five original comics. That’s a bummer, but at least we’ve still got variety… SpongeBob, My Life as a Teenage Robot, and The Wild Thornberrys, oh my! Even Tak makes an appearance here, two years before the premiere of his actual Nickelodeon cartoon, meaning this was an attempt to interest readers in the then-recently released video game: Tak 3: The Great Juju Challenge. Not sure if that worked.

And if you’ll take a look at that yellow, spiky bubble with words on the right there, this September 2005 issue is meant to coincide with the then-upcoming two episode-long Danny Phantom special, “The Ultimate Enemy���, which featured Danny taking on a more powerful version of himself from the future. Seems like the included removable poster is even themed around that very episode! Let’s just hope that poster is still left intact, eh?

So first up, we’ve got a page to get you up to speed on the main cast if you’re new to the show. It’s even got some new factoids for the already familiar superfans! For example: Did you know Sam is into anime? I sure didn’t.

Oh, and if you’re wondering where series villain Vlad Masters is, don’t worry, they go over him later on in the book.

On the right you’ll find an easy if not slightly amusing word puzzle, which tasks you with solving questions where each answer contains the word boo. Simple enough for a kid while still being worth the time, methinks.

Although all the stock ghost art on the page gets me wondering, how come most of the ghosts in the show manifest as typical-looking cartoon ghosts while others manifest in a human form? I guess maybe it comes down to the strength of your spirit. Who’s to say?

You’ve met the characters, now it’s time to meet the voices behind them! I’ll always take a side of interviews with my Nickelodeon Magazine, and this is no exception. The questions are cute, and I had fun reading them. Not much to say.

So we’re finally here at the first comic of the issue, and… not really a fan of this one! Yeah, sorry to start this retrospective off on a sour note but this isn’t really doing it for me. The main villain of this one is Youngblood, who already isn’t exactly one of my favorite villains from the series. But here they’ve got him and all the other characters stuck in a pretty by-the-numbers plot where Danny and co. get stuck babysitting the brat while he tries to maim them, with them of course unable to fight back lest they face the wrath of his parents (who are humongous lizard monsters, for some reason). 

If you’re even a little familiar with cartoons you’ve probably already seen quite a few takes on this formula already. And even if you like Youngblood as a character they don’t have him doing his usual pirate shtick he’s remembered for, so I’m not sure what anyone is getting out of this, really. What's especially not helping is that this goes on for ten pages, further dragging out an already tired concept. 

So there you have it, I guess. Done-to-death story with accordingly done-to-death jokes, a lame villain, and about two pages of action. I will say though, Danny and Tucker’s babysitting poster on page 2 did get a smile out of me, at least.

You’ve met the characters, and you’ve also met the voices behind them, now it’s time to meet… the rest of the characters! The villain ones! These guys really made the show for me, cause the team behind the show really just seemed to understand the assignment and made all of them really unique and memorable.

So we can see they’ve been ranked in terms of how dangerous they all are, which is a fun idea. ‘Course you’ve got Vlad at the top of, but then there’s Technus just behind him? I can’t say I remember him being notably more dangerous than any of the other baddies, I’m fairly certain he gets swept up at the end of his specific episode just like all the rest. I’m pretty sure Valerie gave Danny a bigger run for his money, and she’s down at #3.

Woah now, I’m starting to scrutinize the power levels of cartoon characters. Cartoon characters from a show I haven’t even fully watched all the way through since I was a kid, no less. Better put a stop to that before it gets ugly.

Cool little cartoons on the left there, that one on the top right is properly devious and I’m all for it. All the art is quite lovely too.

The right is… well, it’s Mad Libs, there’s no other way around it. Y’know the Mad Libs website refers to itself as “the world’s greatest word game��� but I seriously think they need to take that up with Scrabble, or hell, even Hangman. Yeah I was never a big fan of this kind of fill-in-the-blanks stuff, but I guess it’s a pretty inoffensive activity to include.

Check out Danny’s dad rocking that emo hair.

And now we’ve made it to the second and last new comic for the issue, and unfortunately it’s only a two-pager. But hey, if my thoughts on the previous ten-page comic said anything, it was that I prefer quality over quantity. And this one is… okay. It’s funny enough, does what all it needs to with the concept, and it definitely doesn’t overstay its welcome. I’m again surprised by the lack of action in both of these comics, considering Danny Phantom is an action show, after all, but it’s not like the show wasn’t a comedy either, so it’s not that weird.

I guess while we’re here I could nitpick it a bit. The lineart here courtesy of series creator Butch Hartman* is a bit wonky at times. There’s the aforementioned emo hair Danny’s dad is wearing, but my main gripe is that dog robot just doesn’t really fit in with the rest of the artstyle. It being the only new original character design for this comic as well doesn’t seem like a coincidence to me. I guess the team was fine with whatever Hartman drew because he made the show after all, so surely he knows what he’s doing, right?*

*Insert obligatory comment about how much of a loser Butch Hartman is here.

Just want to give a shoutout to this pretty creative puzzle here. It actually stumped me a little when I first read it! Those monster designs are pretty entertaining too. Solid activity overall.

Next up it’s an installment of Sam Shade, which was a short-lived recurring series in Nickelodeon Magazine. Apparently the series ran from 2002 to 2005, so this may be one of the last times a Sam Shade comic was ever printed in a Nick Magazine. 

These comics mainly consist of the titular Detective Sam Shade trying to solve some mystery, sleuthing around the area in a series of detailed, wordy scenes. Likewise, you as the reader are as well tasked with scouring the pages for clues to help deduce the culprit. Each panel here smoothly moves into the next, making for something like a Where’s Waldo puzzle but with an actual narrative. It’s a really good idea! A shame this series didn’t last longer.

Hey, is that Carl from Jimmy Neutron on the bottom right there?

Pretty nice My Life as a Teenage Robot comic here. Although that’s kind of unfortunate in a way, since that means I haven’t got much to talk about! It’s pretty much a 1-to-1 translation from animation to comic here. The artstyle and writing are both on point, it’s all just in a shorter, more paper-y format.

I wonder why the aliens’ speech bubble has flowers in it. Is that a theater reference, maybe?

The design of these fiery aliens are particularly awesome - simple but effective. I’m surprised they used such a cool design in a comic that was going to be seen by way less people as opposed to using it in the cartoon. Man, this show is so cool, even its supplementary media is stylish!

But anyway, do you want to know how this story ends? Read it yourself!

Ohh man, I distinctly remember this comic. I don’t remember what issue of Nickelodeon Magazine this one is sourced from, but whichever one it was, I had it. The story’s nothing to write home about really, It's another take on the age old tale of “Squidward yells at SpongeBob and Patrick for doing something annoying, so they inadvertently ruin his life”. Squidward must have a really good lawyer for him to be able to bounce back from all the crap SpongeBob and Pat get him into.

This version of the usual story has S. Bob and P. Rick making a cake in Squidward’s image. Mr. Krabs ends up mistaking it for the real Squidward, bringing it to the Krusty Krab, and having it run the cash register, obviously to disastrous results. It’s all pretty par for the course, and there’s some funny lines to be had.

Weirdly though, unless I’m blind, I can’t seem to find any credits for this one. Not in the comic itself or at the back of the book. I’m pretty sure the artist(s) behind this one did more SpongeBob SquarePants comics though, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the same writing team had a hand in them too. I distinctly remember one where all the characters turn into desserts. Or maybe it was an alternate universe where they’re all desserts? Something like that. Maybe I’ll find it and cover it on this blog someday!

And up next, it’s a Wild Thornberrys comic of all things (said with feigned surprise, having read the table of contents moments ago). And I’m just now realizing none of these comics have anything to do with ghosts, or horror, really. Quite the magazine you’ve got just in time for October, Nickelodeon!

But hey, it’s not right to judge a piece of art specifically by the context in which it is presented. Especially when it was originally published in a magazine that likely came out years earlier, probably not even around the month of October. Desperate times call for desperate measures and all that, even when it comes to filling the pages of a magazine.

This comic is especially cool, anyway, as you can no doubt tell from its distinct shakeup in style!

The story has Eliza receiving some gifts from her Japanese friend, Mayumi (who was probably in the show, presumably), one of those gifts being a homemade manga. And while I’m not exactly an expert on the Japanese arts, I certainly find this art convincing and really appreciate the attention to detail. I bet any kids that were fans of manga around this time must have felt pretty seen to have one of their hobbies referenced in a rather unlikely place, and with such attention to detail no less.

One thing I can also appreciate is that this story really isn’t something they could have pulled off in the show itself (unless they studio really wanted to have an anime-themed episode and go through the undertaking of doing an episode in an entirely different, foreign animation style all on their usual budget), so overall this is a really fun idea done quite flawlessly. My only gripe is we don’t get to see a manga-styled Nigel Thornberry, but what can you do?

Oh boy, the Tak comic, cool. Now, I know these games have their fans, but I can’t say I’m one of them. I did watch the show a bit though, but I’ve heard it has nothing to do with the games, so I guess that makes me rather unprepared to tackle this two-page comic on an intellectual, researched level. I will say though that I think the Sam Shade comic from earlier pulled off this style of free-flowing, no-panel storytelling to a much greater effect. The amount of Taks they threw around the page makes it feel really busy and cramped, and they had to essentially remove the second character Tak is traveling with from the story since I guess they were strapped for page space.

But yeah, the colors are nice at least, and Tak media is especially hard to come by nowadays, so I suppose if I were more into the property, I might be more into this.

Last comic of the day, and it’s Jimmy Neutron. At least this one kinda fits the theme, I mean, aliens are almost in the same horror-league as vampires, zombies, ghosts, and all that. This is a pretty quality one to end off the book with, and in regards to Jimmy Neutron, this is one of the better ways these characters have been translated to 2D. Although the incredibly warm colors and harsh shadows throw me for a loop. Pretty good overall!

Before we wrap things up, I would like to mention that advert for The Nicktoons Film Festival on the right. I totally forgot these used to be a thing! From 2004 to 2009 Nickelodeon hosted a film festival and let viewers vote for their favorite animated short, along with letting proper animation people who know what they’re talking about vote on their favorites, too. Lots of great up-and-coming cartoonists took part in these festivals. This one in 2005 actually featured a short by J. G. Quintel that eventually was used as a basis for his own Cartoon Network show, Regular Show! You can check the short out below:

Neat bit of history there, yeah?

Even though I’m still a bit disappointed this issue didn’t include more original content, I still think this ended up being a fairly entertaining walk down memory lane. And hey, I hope you had a good time too. I’m doubly disappointed, however, that the archive of this issue didn’t come with that tear-out poster! Now we’ll never see it in its full hi-def glory.

As always, thanks for stopping by and checking out another bit of Nick history with me. Have yourself a good one, and I’ll see you all next time!

[dontyouworrydaddy]

Hi hi !! Love your cod hcs!! And I apologise if I spammed them.

They pretty much made me smile today since ive been binging on them. If it's okay can I ask for some of the cod boys comforting a medic reader and their new employer is just a dick. Where reader works so much over time(even during sick days), maybe the boys get worried because reader's body is just basically telling them, they need rest?

My job has been kinda crappy lately and I've considered finding another clinic to work at because some staff get treated like shit while others are put on a pedestal.

ᙖᥱttᥱɾ Ꙇᥙᥴƙ ᥒᥱxt tɩຕᥱ

Task Force 141 + gn! Reader

Hey Love! First of all, thank you so much for helping people that need you. I wish you the best and I hope you find a clinic that gives you what you deserve. Please don’t forget to also take care of yourself <3 I love you!

And thank you so much 🥺 This literally means so much to me <3 Spam as much as you want, I literally don’t care. In fact, it always makes me happy 😋

I hope you like this<3 LOVE YOU���💖💖💖

╚═════ ∘◦ ❈ ◦∘ ══════╝

You were working in the infirmary for the Task Force 141 and other units. You had proven yourself to be an indispensable asset to the team, healing their physical wounds and bringing warmth to their hearts. You were their favorite. They knew they could come to you running and you would catch them with open arms. Always having a smile on your face and shining brighter than all the stars combined. They were lucky to have someone motivated and happy medic like you.

However, it wasn't long before the demands of your new employer began to take a toll on your well-being. The team noticed the exhaustion etched in the lines of your face, the dark circles under your eyes and the way you pushed yourself beyond your limits, even working during sick days. They noticed how you slowly lost your smile as each day passed and you started to look like you hadn’t slept for weeks. This started to worry the boys since they weren’t used to this side of you.

Kyle was the first to speak up, concern lacing his voice. "I think that you've been pushing yourself too hard. It's okay to take a break sometimes, you know?" he said softly.

You attempted to brush off his worry with a smile, but it couldn't hide the weariness in your eyes. "I'm fine, really" you replied, trying to convince yourself as much as you tried to convince him. He looked sad and you could read it off of his face. You healed his wound and told him to not overwork himself. Oh how bad he wanted to say that you shouldn’t either. But he didn’t. He didn’t want to provoke you.

It didn’t take too long until Simon entered the room. You turn to look at him and give him a smile but he couldn’t feel your smile to his heart like he usually would. Whenever you smiled at him, it felt like the whole world was smiling at him. But today he didn’t feel like the whole world was smiling at him.

Simon leaned forward, making it hard for you to not look at him, yet his voice gentle was stern. "You're not fine" he said, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. "We can see it, I can see it, and it's not worth risking your health for us" you couldn’t look at him any longer so you looked down, not answering him. From outside, you and Simon could hear the new employee yell at you to come and do something instead of just sitting. Without looking back, you turned around and got out of your room, leaving Simon alone. And he was holding him back from snapping at the newbie to fuck off.

John Price, the wise captain of the Task Force came around a day later and greeted you with a warm smile he had saved. Just for you.

"How is my favorite medic?" he asked and you gave him a warm smile. Or let’s say you tried. "You lost weight, Y/N. I‘m worried you’re not doing fine. Anything you wanna talk about?" he stated, causing you to look at yourself and then back at him. "No sir. I‘m working out at home. That’s probably why." you reply, desperately trying to close the conversation but he doesn’t let you.

"What’s with your eyes then? Why do they look so tired if you’re okay?" he hits a spot in your heart and the tears are threatening you to fall any second. "I watched a sad movie last night. Still hurts. That’s all. Anything else captain?" your voice id trembling. You hope he says no and leaves because if he doesn’t, he will get to see you cry in front of him. And you don’t want him to see that.

"Come here" he opens his arms and hugs you tightly. You can’t help but let the tears fall down your eyes and ruin the makeup you put on to cover the dark circles around your eyes. "It’s okay. You just need a rest. Please take a few days off, for yourself. You need to rest Sweetheart."

You hesitated, torn between your dedication to the team and the need to care for yourself. But you know that if you leave, you’re gonna have to work harder because of the new doctor around here.

As the days passed, the team grew increasingly worried as they saw the toll that constant work was taking on you. Your body was showing clear signs of exhaustion and the concern in their eyes intensified.

Again, kyle entered the med bay, a determined look in his eyes. "Y/N" he said, his voice unwavering, "I know you've been neglecting your own well-being, but we won't let you do it anymore."

He revealed a small cut on his arm, deliberately made. "If you won't take care of yourself," he continued, "I'll have to take care of you."

In that moment, the weight of his worry and love for you became too much to bear. Tears welled up in your eyes as you nodded, finally allowing yourself to accept their care and concern.

With the help of the team, Price had a conversation with your boss behind your back and reported what’s going on and ensured that you were given a few days off to rest. The boys rallied around you, bringing you snacks, food and making sure you stayed hydrated.

Simon spoke up with a grin, "Hey there doc." he said playfully "have a whole team to take care of you now."

A genuine smile graced your lips as you felt the warmth of their care surrounding you. "Thank you" you said softly.

Johnny clapped you on the shoulder. "We're a team" he said, his voice filled with camaraderie "and can we take care of our own. And of you. That’s the least we can do"

In the days that followed, you finally allowed yourself to rest, your body and soul. The boys were there every step of the way, ensuring you got the rest and care you needed.

You were thankful to whoever was listening to you. They were family to you and whenever you needed someone, they were there for you. It’s the least they can do and pay off the times you overworked so they were doing fine. And now they are taking care of you until you stand up again and send them to bed to rest.

[tarrenterror25]

Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Title: I Always Find My Way Back To You Chapter: 6 of 9 Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: 3K

Summary: You can always count on Ulysses to return to you, but lately you find yourself wanting more. The new dangers in the world don't make the life of an arms dealer any easier and any day could be his last. Running away and living off the grid with the man you love is the dream. Does he share your feelings and can he be convinced to live a life with you?

Tags: MxF, heavily implied sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, Klaue POV, major angst,

Playlist here (May contain explicit material)

Notes: Inspired by “Player of Games” by Grimes! Whew!!! Sorry this took awhile, but thanks for being so patient!

Chapter 6: If I Loved You Any Less

Baby, how can I compare To the adventure out there? Sail away To the cold expanse of space Even love Couldn’t keep you in your place

But can’t you love me like that? Can’t you need me like that?

If I loved him any less I’d make him stay But he has to be the best Player of Games

Ulysses Klaue rises with the sun and he immediately notices that you’re not beside him.

Probably in the living room.

He gets up and dresses with a tired groan. It was a long drive last night and he’s still tired. He has even more traveling to do to return to his current base of operations in South Africa.

Klaue throws on some slacks and a button up. He doesn’t even bother to put on a tie and just hastily tucks in his shirt.

Now, Ulysses Klaue’s occupation requires him to be aware of his surroundings. He always takes into account what’s there.

He also takes into account what is not there.

He finishes getting dressed, grabs his duffel bag, and steps out of the bedroom.

The apartment is quiet. The television is not on, nothing is happening in the kitchen, and there is still no sign of you.

“What the hell,” he mutters.

Something’s not right. Something’s missing.

Klaue sets his bag by the front door and looks around the apartment. Back in the bedroom he takes another look; some of your clothes are gone and in the bathroom, he now sees that there are some toiletries missing. Back out in kitchen, he sees the fridge has been cleared of perishables and the trash bin emptied. A few more of your things are gone such as a journal, phone charger, wallet, and your keys.

He stares at the empty tray on the end table by the front door.

He retrieves his phone from his pocket and dials your number.

It rings and rings, but there’s no answer. Only when he finally hears the automated voice mail message does he notice an envelope on the dining table across the room. He hangs up the phone and hurries over and picks it up.

His name is written on it resting on top of the envelope is a single key and the piece of sea glass he handed to you yesterday.

Klaue opens the envelope and reads the letter:

Uri,

I’m sorry I didn’t wake you to say goodbye. I kissed your cheek while you slept. I’m not there to see you off because I can’t take another day of belonging to you under....our circumstances.

I love you and that’s why I’m saying goodbye.

For good.

I don’t want another day worrying about if you’re dead or alive or if you think of me like I think of you.

It’s better this way. I think. For both of us.

There are instructions on locking the door to the apartment after he leaves and to leave the key under the mat. Your friend, Demi, is coming to collect the key and she is to help pack any things he’s left behind to be taken at a later date.

None of your letter tells him where you’ve gone, only that you’re not here.

It has been an entire month and Klaue has not heard from you since you left him and ended things with a scrap of paper.

He sits at his desk in the Churchill and twirls a small knife absentmindedly in his hand.

After the few days that it took for Klaue to return to South Africa, he tried to call you, text you, but you never responded. He let a week go by thinking you just needed some time to cool off, but you never contacted him.

He stabs the knife into the wood of the desk.

He’s tried calling you everyday after that, but you never answered him. All of his messages were never even marked as read.

And then you changed your number.

It actually stung to hear the automated voice of the woman say that the number he was calling was disconnected.

He plucks the knife out of the wood.

“Boss.”

Klaue looks up to see his right hand man standing in the doorway.

“Got someone here to see you.”

The arms dealer stands and heads downstairs to deal with his guest. Klaue is normally so playful and cheeky with his customers, he likes having some fun and getting under their skin, but lately he’s just irritable.

“Not in your usual mood, Klaue,” the customer, some decorated military man, says smugly. “No jokes today?”

“The only joke is you standing in front of me,” Klaue snaps. “Leave the money and hurry up.”

When all of his business is concluded for the day, Klaue returns to his office and stays up into the night looking for you.

He’s been trying to track you down with any information he has on you, putting to use his history with an old organization he used to run with, but everything comes to a dead end.

He’s typed your name so many times into the search engines. He’s even taken one of your photos you’ve sent him and he’s tried to do a reverse image search. Maybe you posted a picture on some social media or a friend did and he could find you, but nothing came up.

There’s an account Klaue would pay money to that was for you. Typically you’d make withdrawals at the bank or just hand over the account number to cover whatever living expenses you had and Klaue’s checked it as well.

There’s a hefty sum of money in there and he keeps track of the expenses that come out of it: your rent, utilities, phone bill, and so on. But since you disappeared, those have stopped and the amount in the account hasn’t changed.

He checks it every day hoping you take any amount out and then he can track you down, but you don’t. No money has left the account in the past month.

Klaue sits back in his chair and asks himself the question he didn’t think to ask until now:

Why is he looking for you? What does he want?

He doesn’t think he can return your feelings, but why does not having you bother him so much?

Klaue scrolls through the photos of you that he has until he gets to the ones that you took at the beach. You had sent them over while he was driving the two of you back to your apartment.

You look so beautiful and happy. Did he really hurt you that much by not saying those words you wanted to hear?

It’s in these days, spent pacing and thinking, that Klaue realizes he’s always been drawn to you not just physically, but mentally and perhaps emotionally. He recalls how you said you liked spending time with him and he realizes, he’s enjoyed his time with you.

You were not just an escape, not just someone to shack up with, but he really did like being with you. No woman has ever held his attention the way you do and you hardly have to try. Care is a strong word, but thinking back, he knows now that your feelings have always mattered to him. It’s why he gave you trinkets like the sea glass, took silly photos with you, tickled you when he kissed you, and did what he could to hear you laugh and see you smile.

God, your smile.

Klaue puts his phone away. He needs to get some sleep.

After a few more days of continuing his search, he finally makes progress. He’s tracked down your friend, Demi.

He doesn’t know much about her except that she’s close with you. Phone in hand, he stares at the number on the screen.

What am I doing?

He dials the number and waits for someone to pick up.

“Hello?” a woman’s voice says.

Klaue is silent. What is he supposed to say? That he’s been trying to get a hold of you for the past month? That he needs to know why you just disappeared without a trace?

“Hellooo?” she says again.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Klaue makes a rather awkward introduction of himself and as to why he’s calling.

Demi sighs. “She said you might call.”

“Is she there?”

“No.”

Trying not to get frustrated, Klaue politely asks Demi as to your whereabouts. She’s reluctant to tell him anything since you instructed her to stay quiet, but she finally cracks and relays to Klaue a phone number.

He quickly scribbles it down on a piece of paper before he hangs up.

Klaue doesn’t dial the number right away.

What will he say to you? That he misses you? Is that what it is?

He runs a hand through his hair and slams his fist down on his desk. He does miss you. He misses the way you talked to him, especially the way you listened to him, and the way you held him.

When he first started seeing you, it was mostly just sex and the way you interacted with him seemed....well, artificial at first. And then you started to dote on him. He thought you were just playing a part, but looking back, he realizes that you really did love him and have for awhile. And he’s been blind to your feelings, taking all of your affection and attention for granted.

Because now he doesn’t have it and he’s restless. He can’t eat, he can’t sleep, and he can’t think straight without you in his life. Klaue refuses to identify the source as his aching heart; all he knows is he’s a different man knowing you’re no longer waiting at your apartment for him, that he won’t have your arms to go to or your body to hold against his.

Maybe he should just forget you, too.

The sun is warm as it shines down on the balcony you’re standing on looking down at the city below. The intricate wrought iron gate lined with florals is a change of pace from the modern glass balcony you used to have at your apartment.

Your apartment.

You don’t stay there anymore.

It was time for a change so you sold as many of your belongings as you could to downsize. You were able to move to a nice quaint European neighborhood and so far you were enjoying it. It’s peaceful and even better, there’s nothing to remind you of...him.

Your days come and go without much fuss. Nothing of notable interest takes place and though it’s a tad boring, it’s allowed you some time to reflect.

Right now you’re sitting at the small table in your room, writing some things down in a journal when your phone rings. Right as you look at the number and think that you don’t recognize it, your finger has already hit the green button and you raise it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

There’s a small sigh and then you hear the familiar accent in that deep voice you love so much. “I always find my way back to you, sweetheart,” Klaue says.

You’re frozen. How did he find you? You should hang up. Right now.

It’s like he can read your mind. “Don’t hang up. Your friend gave me the number,” he explains.

It’s your turn to sigh. “Of course she did.”

Silence.

You don’t know what to say, but you can’t deny the way your heart beats faster at the thought of him tracking you down.

“Can we talk?” he asks.

For a moment you’re quiet, but then let out a tight lipped “sure”.

“I don’t mean on the phone,” he clarifies.

Silence again.

“Ulysses,” you say softly. “I don’t think it would be a good idea if we saw each other.”

“Why not?”

“Because we both know what would happen.”

“Hmm,” he says. “You’re right, best not to tempt you with my good looks in person.”

You can’t help, but laugh and you smile hearing him chuckle as well.

“You’re the one who would be tempted,” you shoot back playfully. “Of the two of us you have weakest will.”

“Ouch,” he says feigning a hiss of being wounded. “That hurts, sweetheart. But you can’t honestly tell me that you’d tell me no?”

You can’t stifle your smile at his antics. “Maybe I will this time.”

“Then let me see you and we’ll put that will of yours to the test,” he teases.

Silence again.

“Why’d you do it?” he finally asks. “Why’d you leave?”

“I told you in the note-”

“I’m not asking what the damn note said, I’m asking you.”

You don’t sugarcoat it. There’s no reason to anymore. “I want to be more with you. I know you can’t give that to me so I made a decision for the both of us.”

“And what if I want to give it to you?”

“Ulysses,” you say with a sigh. “I don’t think you’re ready for that kind of thing. And that’s fine, it’s...it’s who you are. I’m not trying to change you.”

The two of you continue talking for awhile and eventually you give in to Klaue’s request. You allow him to come to you in person to talk. It’s funny, ironic even, how much time he spends on his phone talking to all sorts of people, but with you his words falter via long distance.

It’s the day of when Klaue is supposed to come by where you’ve been staying and you’re so nervous. You keep fussing over the furniture and your appearance. All this time that you had been away from him did nothing to sway your feelings for him because he isn’t even here yet and your heart is already racing, your palms sweaty.

There’s a knock on the door.

You answer it and Klaue stands there with a bit of a sheepish smirk with one hand braced against the doorframe and the other behind his back. He pulls it around to the front to reveal a small bouquet of flowers. You smile and take them and invite him in.

As you put the flowers into a vase, you take the time to look him over. It’s been a very long time since you’ve seen him. His hair has grown out a bit, his beard a bit fuller, and his biceps definitely have gained some mass, but then you notice he stands just a little bit taller due to that he looks a tad bit leaner, his belly not as pronounced. You wonder if he’s been taking care of himself since you notice how exhausted he looks from his eyes.

You watch him take in the surroundings of the room before his gaze lands on you.

“Nice place,” he says.

You don’t want to waste any more time than necessary. You move to stand in front of him and cross your arms. “So, you wanted to talk,” you say.

He rubs the back of his head, clearly he’s out of his element here. When he speaks, it’s slow and deliberate like he’s trying to make sure he phrases his words correctly. “I meant what I said when I said that, I wanted to give you what you want.”

“Why?”

He blinks a few times, taken aback but how quick you’ve asked the question and tone with which you’ve asked it.

“‘Cause I,” he has to take a second to form the words, “miss you. I...would rather have you than not at all and I am,” he clears his throat, “more than willing to...do whatever it is...you need from me.”

You open your mouth to speak and then he’s taking a few steps to close the gap between the two of you, the look in his eyes is sincere as his hands come up to cup your face. “I’m fucking miserable without you,” he says.

Oh.

Hearing him say those words, words you’ve been waiting a long time to hear, hit you like harsh wind and sweep you off your feet.

“Ulysses, I-”

“I need you. I don’t want to wonder where you’ve run off to, I want to come back to you and you be there and well,.... there’s no one else I want on the other side waiting for me.”

“What if I don’t want to wait? What if I want you to stay?” you ask.

He cracks a smile and says, “Then I’ll do it! I mean it! Just...Just give me some time to tie up loose ends and,” his face is close to yours now, his breath on your lips, “we’ll go anywhere you want. Just us. I promise.”

His hands let go of your face to take hold of your waist and you just want to throw your arms around him, but you have to be sure.

“I...I need to hear you say it,” you say softly. “Please.”

He sighs and his shoulders slump a bit. Your expression is downcast as he runs a hand through his hair trying to find what to say next.

He falters and takes a step back. It’s like he wants to say those three words, but can’t. “I...Sweetheart, I...it’s not that I don’t, I just...,” he sighs again, his hands on his hips as he tries to think.

He holds his finger up in a “hold on” gesture and grabs ahold of one of the leather cords around his neck and pulls it off. He’s gotta do this in a way he knows how and in a way that you’ll understand how serious he is. He removes the pendant from the cord and takes off the ring from his little finger, the one he seems to always wear. He loops it onto the cord and then gestures for you to turn around. With a small smile and your heart racing, you turn.

In front of your eyes, the ring on the necklace descends until it rests on your neck, the gold ring heavy and warm against your skin. He fastens it around your neck and then you feel his hands rest on your shoulders. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his voice full of affection. “I’m all yours.”

Your hand comes up to touch the ring, your heart full of love at the gesture.

This...this is really happening. This is real. Not a dream, but real.

You turn around to face him and his face says it all. He looks almost nervous for what you’ll say.