#and I reasonably assume she's already trying as best as she can right now

[thechy-fychannel]

You said you think pre-infarction house was an addict-can you expand on that? What drugs were he hooked on and why did he fully switch to vicodin and never used others again? Did he ever reach a go-to-rehab level addiction? How did wilson handle that? And what was Stacy's attitude towards his addiction? I think she would have been a lot more forgiving than cuddy because 1. She herself is a smoker who goes back to cigarettes during hard time and 2. Unlike cuddy, she didn't have a small child to worry about.

Ahhh thank you sm, I love this question!!! Let's get into it ✨

So my theory is that house was abusing morphine prior to the infarction. here are my reasons for thinking so:

1. Three Stories- the entire reason house's infarction was as bad as it was is bc everyone except house was convinced he was just drug seeking at first. it makes absolutely zero sense for them to think that unless he already had a history of drug seeking. unless I misremember (anyone feel free to correct me if I'm wrong) he already worked at PPTH for a while before the infarction happened. so it was the same doctors he knew and interacted with every single day that saw him screaming in agony and chose to believe he was just trying to seek drugs and not actually in pain. he had to have a history, it just doesn't make sense otherwise for them to assume he was drug seeking.

2. one very specific line in No Reason (the episode where house is shot and the whole episode is a hallucination). when house, wilson, and cuddy are in her office and house is realizing they did something to his brain (the ketamine treatment) cuddy says this specific line: "You were out of control, you were shooting morphine!" This line has always stuck out to me and no one ever seems to mention it. It's very out of place bc the conversation they're having is about him being shot and them doing something to him while he was under. I think this was his brain connecting this event to the last time someone did something to him while he was unconscious, trying to rationalize these traumatic events.

3. In early s3 when the pain comes back, he begs cuddy to give him a shot of morphine in his spine (the scene where he drops his pants in her office and asks her in tears if the scar is all in his head too since she thinks the pain is all in his head.) cuddy gives him the shot and he comes back looking for another one later on, after the pain comes back again. she informs him that she never gave him morphine, it was saline. the fact that the pretend morphine worked suggests he had a mental dependency on it. I'm pretty sure this is the point where he goes back to vicodin (it's been a few months since I did my last rewatch so I could be wrong). I think had she actually given him morphine, he likely would've become addicted to it again. Just the thought of the morphine was enough to have him looking for more.

4. Wilson's tendency to jump straight to heroin use when he thinks house is on something other than vicodin. it happens more than once in the series when house starts acting just the slightest bit off, wilson leaps to the conclusion that he's on heroin. which is an insane leap to make unless it's something he's had to worry about in the past. I think the reason wilson would jump to heroin over morphine is if he knows what it looks like when house is high on morphine. If house used to abuse morphine, wilson would be able to recognize it and if he can't, it must be something much worse. this again plays into why I think he was an addict prior to the infarction even if it wasn't morphine, because who in their right mind would jump to their best friend using heroin if that person didn't have a long history of abusing similar drugs?

Now to answer your other questions:

Why did he switch to vicodin and not go back to others he may have been addicted to? I can tell you from personal experience that while morphine feels great, it makes you hazy and tired and out of it. I think once he was prescribed vicodin after his surgery and learned that he could function on it and not feel hazy, it was a match made in heaven for him (he says a few times in the show that vicodin doesn't make him hazy, so he immediately knows if he's on something else bc he feels hazy.) He didn't need to switch to anything else as long as he had access to vicodin bc he got the high, the pain relief, and no haziness. but when he got cut off of his vicodin during the tritter ordeal, he stole oxycodone (I think?) from wilson's dead patient. so if he didn't have vicodin, it's safe to assume he would go back to whatever he had access to.

Did he ever reach rehab level addiction? / What was Stacy's attitude towards his addiction? I think if we go based off his colleagues thinking he was drug seeking + cuddy saying he was out of control and shooting up morphine, I would say yes, it was rehab level addiction. But— I feel like if it had been that bad, stacy would've mentioned it in some sort of capacity during her arc when they were discussing their relationship. she never hints at him being an addict as far as I can remember. she loved and cared about house so much that she was willing to accept him hating her if it meant he was alive and healthy. I feel like if his addiction had been dangerous, she would've done anything to get him help the same way she did during his infarction. even if it meant going against his wishes and him hating her, she would've insisted he got help. so I'm conflicted on that question, honestly. I think maybe it depends on the perspective of those around him. maybe those at the hospital saw something stacy didn't, I'm not sure. but I agree with what you said about her being more forgiving and understanding of it than cuddy was. I think if he had been an addict while they were together, she would've given him an endless amount of chances until it became dangerous, that's when she would put her foot down and try to force him into rehab and their relationship probably would've crumbled for a whole different reason.

How did Wilson handle his addiction? I think house being an addict prior to the infarction plays perfectly into the theme of wilson emotionally neglecting his wives for house. we obviously don't have an exact timeline of his marriages aside from his first one ending just before house and wilson met, but it's pretty safe to assume that he was married to and even possibly divorced from bonnie before the infarction ever happened since he seems to have been married to julie for a little while in the beginning of the show.

[sidenote: here is my personal timeline HC for wilson's marriages.

Sam: 1991-1992 (canon)

Bonnie: 1993-1998

Julie: 1999 (before infarction) - 2005]

In the episode where house uses bonnie to get dating info about wilson, she says the iconic line, "You always needed him and he was always there for you. He had a wife waiting for him at home and you didn't care." And it just makes sense if the reason house always needed him was because of his struggles with addiction. house in general is a needy person who always wanted wilson's affection to himself, that much is clear, but wilson had to of had a good excuse to always run off for whatever it is house needed from him prior to him being disabled.

Getting into more specifics about how wilson would've handled his addiction back then— I think he would've handled it similarly to the way he did with the vicodin. he's an enabler unfortunately, he would've let house make excuses and made excuses for him because he tries to give house the benefit of the doubt that he can control himself. I think back then even more so, because house wasn't in pain and disabled, wilson had no reason to think house couldn't control himself. I think it's even possible that wilson was in denial about it too, he didn't want to believe his best friend was an addict and maybe he felt like he needed to protect house when others started accusing him of such. I think that may be why wilson asked cuddy to make that bet with house to find out if he was addicted to vicodin. he ignored it and denied it last time and he's enabled him for years since the infarction, he wanted to know if he was treating house's pain or still enabling an addict. the answer was both, which makes it no less complicated. but like with all of house's issues, wilson continues to stand by him and be there for him bc he loves him and wants him in his life, addict or no addict.

[cesium-sheep]

I was following up with arin about a couple important things and I know I have a habit of only messaging her if I need something or if she initiates because of old rules that don't apply anymore, so I tried to just chat casually with her after getting the information I needed and she was just like. "my week was fine. I'm going to bed." so it's like. oh. I mean she's probably just running hot because of The News and she's chosen not to vent to me which is a conscientious choice but it's a bit of a bummer. I know other people can't simply go "okay my shit, into the box, this conversation will be So Normal and I will Genuinely Care". even I can't for more than a few minutes at a time right now so like, fair. but it still kinda sucks.

[quin-ns]

Getaway Car (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Word count: 4.7K

Summary: your boyfriend, topper, isn’t making midsummers as fun as you were hoping. lucky for you, rafe is there to fix that

Tags: (18+), cheating, smidge of topper x reader, fingering, car sex, unprotected sex, rafe and reader are messy asf

A/N: kinda old bc I was gonna make it a series but it wasn’t working out so here it is as a stand alone 🫶 it’s been a while and I wanted to post something before the year ends

OBX masterlist + main masterlist

You were beginning to wonder what you were even doing here.

Midsummers was supposed to be the perfect summer event. Everyone got all dressed up to dance with their friends and have a fun night. You were more than ready for a fun night.

The light pink dress flowed down to your ankles and fit your body just right. Your makeup and hair were done nicely, courtesy of your best friend, Sarah. Unfortunately for the both of you, she was sick and couldn’t go this year. You were grateful to her for still helping you out despite her stuffy nose. You even had a date that you knew turned heads. The two of you were the perfect couple on the surface.

The problem with Topper was that he seemed more interested in showing you off than actually just being there with you.

Dating Topper was nothing you had planned. You first got to know him as a friend of friends, but you liked him enough. You couldn’t think of a good reason to say “no” when he asked you out and said he wanted to get to know you better.

Now here you were, holding Topper’s arm as he led you around the party, moving between conversations with his friends.

You didn’t mind so much at first. But when you broke off on your own to try and find some friends of your own, Topper popped up behind you.

“There you are,” he commented, placing himself at your side. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You looked over at him as an arm slid around your waist. In your peripheral you saw the girls you were talking to moving away from the both of you. You forced a smile so as to not make a scene.

“You can talk to your friends, why can’t I talk to mine?” you wondered, raising your brows.

Topper laughed and shook his head. “I never said you couldn’t. When Sarah gets here we can meet up with her.”

His words meant nothing. He was already leading you back where he wanted to go.

“Sarah’s not coming. She’s sick,” you reminded him.

“So she’s not coming?” He sounded disappointed. You shook your head, feeling the same disappointment. “That sucks.”

You ended up standing idly by while he talked to Rafe and Kelce. You knew both of them pretty well, more so Rafe than Kelce. Rafe was Sarah’s brother after all.

You occupied yourself by trying to remember all the words to your favorite song in your head, tuning them out almost entirely.

“What about you, Y/N?” Rafe said, cutting through your second repeat of the song. You blinked, missing the question. “Are you having fun?” he repeated what you assumed he had asked before.

You almost laughed to yourself. There was a slight shift in Rafe’s face. It was like he could tell.

“Yeah, I’m having a blast,” you agreed sarcastically, giving Topper a phony smile—one which he bought.

Rafe smirked.

“Hey, there he is,” Kelce said in a hushed tone to Topper and Rafe, nodding his head past you. You turned and spotted the bar, where two bartenders were trading places. “The taller guy—he’s the one that doesn’t card.”

You must’ve missed that part of the conversation, and you had no interest in it as you turned back. It didn’t surprise you that getting drunk had climbed to the top of their priority list.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling thirsty,” Topper decided.

“Actually, I’m good,” you spoke up when he tried to tug you along. You saw his smile fade when you kept your feet planted. “You go ahead.”

Topper chuckled suddenly, like you were messing with him.

“For real?”

“I’ll keep an eye on her, don’t worry,” Rafe said as if you weren’t standing right there. You would’ve been offended if you didn’t see what he was doing.

Topper laughed it off with a, “Thanks, man,” and followed Kelce away to the bar.

He trusted Rafe, so maybe he didn’t think he had to compete for your attention with him like he assumed he had to with your friends.

Rafe eyed you up and down, taking in the way you let yourself relax.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re happy to get away from him,” he said after a moment.

“Oh no, I’m having a blast. Can’t you tell?” you questioned, voice dripping with sarcasm. You caught yourself after a second, reminding yourself that Rafe was basically Topper’s best friend. “Sorry, I’m being mean. It’s not that bad.”

“Be mean all you want,” Rafe replied, stepping closer to stand directly across from you. He leaned like he was telling you a secret. “And don’t apologize for it.”

You narrowed your eyes a little, looking him over as he stood back up straight, trying to decide if he meant it or not. After only a second it was clear he did.

Rafe threw a look over his shoulder to the bar. Topper and Kelce were waiting behind a few others.

“You wanna sit down? They might be a while.”

You nodded, because why the hell not?

Finding an empty table was a bit of a challenge, but the two of you managed eventually. Rafe pulled out your chair for you, and even chuckled at your comment about chivalry not being dead after all.

Instead of crossing around the table to sit down opposite of you, he pulled out the chair right next to yours. He sat in it sideways, so you turned in your seat to face him. Your knees were basically touching, but you didn’t mind.

“So, you here by yourself?” you wondered, just making conversation.

“I’m here with you.”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but not in the same way you had been with Topper most of the night.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Yeah, I am,” Rafe revealed, smirking to himself before adding, “But it’s not like I didn’t have options.”

You raised your brows at his brazenness—not shocked, just amused.

“Because you’re so interesting?” you teased, the corner of your lip tugging up.

“Among other things.”

“Like what?”

You placed your elbow on the table and leaned on your hand, watching him, waiting for his overconfident answer.

He had to have known you were messing with him, maybe even baiting him. You usually did. You always enjoyed the back-and-forths you’d have with him. Rafe gave you a subdued smile.

“Like… I wouldn’t treat my date like an accessory and then ditch her, for one.”

You chuckled in spite of yourself. “Touché.”

“And I know how to have fun,” he added, voice laced with charm. You’d never noticed that before.

You hummed and straightened back. “Well, maybe you should’ve asked me,” you joked.

“Maybe I should’ve,” Rafe drawled. He sounded genuine, which caught you off guard. “You seem bored out of your mind—well, before we started talking,” he pointed out, giving himself an ego boost, slightly changing the topic. “Why even come?”

“Topper wanted to,” you filled in, willing to let it slide for now. “I thought it would be fun, but all the things that would’ve been fun for me got totally ignored.”

“So, what do you want to do?” Rafe wondered. You didn’t remember his blue eyes ever looking this intense, but then again, you didn’t think you’d ever been this close to him.

“Right this very second?”

“Sure.”

You glanced around at the other tables. Everyone was caught up in conversation, having a nice time with their friends and their dates and their families.

“Leave, probably,” you admitted, looking back at Rafe.

He nodded, silently thinking it over.

Finally, he shrugged a little and said, “Okay.”

You started to laugh. “You’re not serious…” you trailed off as he stood, raising his brows, as if to say he was. “What about Topper?”

“What about him?” Rafe asked plainly, like he’d already forgotten all about his friend.

You blinked, then stood. You weren’t exactly sure why he’d been able to convince you so easily.

“Damn the consequences,” you whispered to yourself, although it was easier said than done.

Rafe gave you a subtle smirk, nodded his head to the door. He even held out an arm, which you took with a nervous smile.

It felt strange, being on Rafe’s arm. It was a position you’d never thought you’d be in, nor had you thought about it. Sure, you got along with Rafe pretty well, and he did look handsome tonight (and most days…) but he was always just Sarah’s brother. Then, your boyfriend's best friend.

Now? Now he was your rescuer, saving you from this dull affair that should’ve been an exciting night.

Maybe it still could be.

Rafe was leading the two of you to the door, quietly making comments to you about other partygoers. You laughed at the jokes, unintentionally drawing attention to yourself.

Rafe didn’t seem to mind the way your peers began to look at you, not exactly hiding their staring. It seemed like everyone knew you and Topper were together despite only about a month of dating. You could guess what they were thinking and word traveled fast in the Figure Eight.

It probably should’ve bothered you more than it did, the way a few started to whisper, but you were more concerned with leaving than trying to correct their perception.

“Don’t look, walk faster,” Rafe muttered, leaning down close to you.

You didn’t realize what he was talking about until you disobeyed him and glanced over your shoulder. Sure enough, Topper was making his way around the room. Presumably looking for you.

You snapped your head back forward, trying to make your escape while doing as little damage as possible.

The big entrance door, soon to be an exit, was right ahead.

“Y/N?” Topper’s voice carried across the room, but you kept your head forward, not daring to look. “Hey, over here!”

In the large windows, you saw his reflection vaguely in the distance. He was getting closer to you, weaving through the crowd, waving a hand.

You didn’t want him to stop you. Sure, you could’ve turned and told him to stop and that you were leaving, but that was way more of a scene than you wanted to create. What you did wasn’t exactly any better, but it avoided a verbal altercation in front of everyone you knew.

You broke apart from Rafe to move faster, speed walking the last few feet to the door. It was like he read your mind, jumping out ahead of you to pull the door open.

You hadn’t planned on it, but the two of you were rushing down the stairs of the country club.

“My truck’s up ahead parked on the street. I didn’t want to park in the lot,” Rafe informed when you got to the bottom step.

“Of course you didn’t.”

You spared a glance to one of the large windows and saw Topper looking out it. You snapped your head back, not wanting to make eye contact in case he saw you. You picked up the pace. By a lot. Not figuratively but literally running away.

Rafe easily could’ve out run you, but he chose to stick close when he caught up. You weren’t expecting it when Rafe reached down to grab your hand, making sure you were right by him as the two of you ran for his truck.

You let your shoes fall off your feet as you broke out into a full out sprint. A laugh tore out from you, filling the air around you. You felt so free as the sound of your own joy hit your ears.

You knew people were watching from the patio area, but as you arrived at Rafe’s truck, you hardly noticed.

“This is crazy,” you said to yourself as you reared to a stop. Your lungs were close to burning and your bare feet started to ache, but you were smiling so brightly. “Are we actually doing this?”

“If you get in the truck we are,” Rafe replied smoothly, opening the passenger door for you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but something in the distance cut you off.

“Hey! Y/N!” shouted a familiar voice.

Looking back towards the club, you saw none other than Topper in that beige suit you were starting to find tacky. He was running towards you, even holding one of your shoes. You would’ve laughed again if your heart wasn’t racing.

Your eyes met Rafe’s, finding the same anticipation in them that you felt coursing through your body. The corner of his lip curved up into a smirk, like he knew what you were going to do before you did it.

You climbed into the passenger seat without further hesitation. Rafe shut the door behind you and ran around the front of the truck to the driver’s side.

He fished his keys out of his pocket and jammed them into the ignition. The truck roared to life. Rafe looked over to you with a full grin.

You shared the same expression until you made the mistake of glancing out the passenger window, seeing Topper running towards the truck.

“Go, go, go!” you rushed out, urging Rafe to slam on the gas. You didn’t even know what you were saying.

That’s exactly what he did, speeding the two of you away from the country club until there was only the sound of the truck's engine and heavy breathing.

When the twinkling lights faded far behind you, Rafe eased in the gas. Topper was left in the dust, no way to catch up.

You exchanged a look, studying one another. The panic on your face shifted back to a smile, causing Rafe to do the same.

A victorious laughter left you suddenly, realizing the insanity of the situation. Rafe looked between you and the road, letting out a chuckle. Whether it be for the same reason as you or the way you reacted, you didn’t know. It didn’t really matter.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, finally relaxing back in the seat. “That was so exciting. Why was that so exciting?” Rafe didn’t answer, but it seemed like he at least thought of one as he smirked to himself. “Thank you for the prison break,” you told him, letting your appreciation seep into your teasing words.

“You looked like you needed it, I could tell before we even sat down,” Rafe pointed out. Why did he get that but Topper didn’t? “Besides, that was way more fun than that entire night combined.”

You let out a sigh, trying to not let guilt overcome your adrenaline high. “Topper’s gonna be pissed,” you acknowledged, recalling his face as Rafe sped away.

“So?” Rafe wondered without hesitation.

Your brows curved. Topper was supposed to be his best friend, and he’d just run off with his girlfriend. Or were you his girlfriend that ran off with his best friend? The semantics didn’t really matter in the end, it wasn’t like it meant anything other than the fact that you needed to be anywhere but that party.

You looked out the window, resting your elbow on it and leaning against your fist. You stayed like that for a few minutes, watching the dark shadows of trees and dispersed mansions as they passed by.

“Just in case Topper didn’t tell you, you look beautiful tonight,” Rafe commented out of nowhere, filling the silence.

You gave him a curious look. You couldn’t remember if Rafe had ever said anything like that to you.

His gaze was mostly fixated on the road, but you saw the way his eyes darted to the side, checking on you.

“Thank you,” you said softly, because he was right, Topper hadn’t even mentioned it.

He’d complimented your dress for the way it fit your body and went well with his suit, and he’d been relieved by the way you’d shown up perfectly on time, and even mentioned how Sarah had done your hair, but nothing about you as a whole. Just the bits and pieces.

“For the record, you look very handsome,” you told Rafe, a small smile forming. “And I’m not just saying that ‘cause you said something nice to me.”

He glanced over to you fully this time, a look you couldn’t quite place on his face. Sure, he was smiling, but there was something else in his eyes.

“Well, that’s good to know.”

In the past, you would’ve found admitting that out loud weird since he was Sarah’s brother, but something about being with him now felt different. He wasn’t Sarah’s brother who you were sorta friends with, he was Rafe, the guy who’d gone out of his way to rescue you from a shitty night.

Well, now maybe you could upgrade him from “sorta friend” to just “friend”. He’d earned it, that was for sure.

It was still crazy to you, what you’d just done, even if it was only minutes ago. Something about it all stuck in your head. The rush you got from just talking—okay, maybe even flirting a little—with Rafe was more than you had felt with Topper in weeks. And the great escape added on? You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that exhilarated.

“You just gonna stare at me the rest of the drive?” Rafe teased, eyeing you in his peripheral.

Your cheeks felt warm as you looked away, focusing back out the window instead.

“Where are we even going?” you wondered, ignoring his comment.

“Good point,” Rafe said. “I actually don’t know.”

You weren’t expecting him to pull the truck off to the side of the road. There was nothing around you except for trees and distant street lights on either side. He parked in a gap between houses, making sure to not be in front of anyone’s property. People were weird about that, especially the older ones. Although you guessed a decent amount of them would be at Midsummers anyway.

“Why’d you stop?”

Rafe shrugged in response, eyes taking you in. “Just wanted to be able to look at you. Kinda hard when I’m driving.” He was purposefully trying to make you feel flustered, and it was working. “Figure out where you wanna go and I’ll take you.”

Your first thought was home, but something in the back of your mind urged you to not end the night so soon. You were having fun with Rafe, something you didn’t anticipate. The impulsiveness was still making your heart race.

It only took you a moment to realize it wasn’t just that. Rafe was watching you, and you were watching him. Your lips parted as you took a shallow breath, the air in the truck somehow becoming thicker. His eyes flicked to your lips as you did so, and it wasn’t subtle by any means.

Your own hushed words rang back in your mind.

Consequences be damned.

You weren’t sure who lunged forward first, but in a matter of seconds your lips were attached to Rafe’s.

You weren’t sure of the exact how or why, either, but you wanted to. That was enough for the moment.

Rafe’s hand gripped the back of your neck, holding you to him as he dominated the kiss. All the air seemed to leave your lungs. Your eyes slid shut as you moaned into the kiss.

If someone would have told you even minutes ago that you’d be making out with Rafe Cameron, you wouldn't have believed them.

Now you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Your mind began to make the comparison to Topper, noting Rafe’s neediness for you and the passion of it all, but the other boy faded completely from your mind.

Rafe kissed you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to do and had to make it count. You’d never felt so desirable, and it sent a rush of electricity through your body. When he bit your lip it added an extra jolt.

It was the opposite of graceful, a fumble of limbs and tangled fabric and trying to not part from one another, but you eventually ended up in the backseat.

Rafe was on top of you now, curious hands sliding down your body as he devoured your lips. You made no attempt to stop him. You didn’t want him too. The rush was too strong.

You gasped against his lips when Rafe pushed your dress up around your hips, hands gripping your waist, savoring the feel of your bare skin beneath his palms.

Rafe knelt between your legs, fingers dipping in the waistband of your underwear. They moved further until he was running a finger through your folds. Your face grew warm knowing he could feel how wet you already were.

A low groan rumbled from deep in Rafe’s chest and you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. You were too consumed by lust.

Rafe slid one finger in, stroking it inside slowly before adding another one. You shivered as he thrust and curled his fingers. You lost track of the minutes before he added another one, and you were gasping by the time he pulled them away entirely.

Before you could beg for more he was already abliging you. He gripped the edges of your underwear and ripped the material from you with sheer force, then discarded the remains on the floor of his truck. He could’ve just taken them off, and you both knew that. Maybe he was showing off his strength to fluster you or he really just couldn’t contain himself, but it didn’t matter.

His hands went for his belt next, whipping it off like he was going for speed. Your eyes fell, watching as he unbuttoned his pants.

Your gaze immediately flicked away when he shoved them down.

Were you really gonna do this? Hook up with Rafe Cameron?

You felt Rafe’s eyes on you as he gripped his cock, stroking himself, watching you.

It only took one look back at him to decide yeah, you were.

The smirk that crossed his face was one of pure lust, it was like he could read your mind.

Still, when he situated himself between your legs, lining himself up with your entrance, he asked, “This what you want?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, your body already overheated. “I want it.”

That was all it took for him to push into you. The slow stretch of him took the air from your lungs.

You finally took a breath when he was fully seated inside you. He watched you with hungry eyes, hands running along your thighs, attempting to sooth you and control himself.

Words failed you, but when you adjusted, you gave him a nod.

The first thrust was experimental, testing the waters. When your body reacted, quivering with anticipation, Rafe moved again.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him close. He had no choice but to hover on top of you, placing his forearm near your head, but neither of you were exactly mad about it.

The space in the back seat was entirely too cramped. You were completely consumed by his presence. It was perfect.

You moaned into his mouth when he captured your lips for a kiss, the roughness matching the slam of his hips as he found a pace he liked. You were already a mess beneath him, body shivering with each thrust.

“Rafe,” you whispered his name over and over. It was the only thing that you could manage to say.

His lips trailed to your neck and your hand rose to tangle in his hair. His teeth pressed to your skin, threatening to bite. Before he could, you pulled him back. He groaned into your collarbone instead, hips slamming into your ass, cock filling you entirely.

The sound of skin against skin paired with noises of desperation from both of you filled the small space. You wanted nothing else to exist outside of the backseat.

Rafe found your sweet spot in little time and elicited moans from you with every thrust. Your hands went to his back, fingers clutching the fabric of his blazer as your toes curled.

You took everything he gave you, even when the heat and overwhelming pleasure began to smother you.

Rafe could tell when you were getting close and refused to let up, wanting to not only feel but watch you experience bliss all because of him.

You felt exposed beneath his hungry gaze, but in the best way. Like you were the thing of his dreams that finally, finally came true.

Your whole body tensed, nails digging in and cunt clenching down as your orgasm crashed over you. The wave was so intense you thought you might drown in it, but Rafe was there, muttering sweet nothing in your ear, dragging you back to shore.

Before you could come down from your high, Rafe was tipping over the edge. He gave a few more sharp thrusts of his hips before his cock twitched inside you. With a deep moan of your name that made your cunt throb, Rafe let go, filling you.

Your legs tightened around him, holding him there as the two of you heaved for air, riding out the pleasure together.

Finally, Rafe pressed a long kiss to your swollen lips before straightening back up.

You needed a few extra seconds to recover, so you instead watched as he tucked himself back into his pants and redid his belt. He ran his hands through his hair and for the most part he was good as new. Aside from your lipstick staining his lips, that is.

You, on the other hand, knew you probably looked like a mess.

Rafe helped you sit up. He straightened out your dress and hummed.

“I know I said it before, but you’re so fucking beautiful,” Rafe praised, eyes drinking you in, and his words left little room for you to doubt him. “You don’t get what you do to me.”

“I think I have some idea,” you mused, cracking a small smile.

Rafe smirked, because how could he argue?

Getting back into the front seat was a little more awkward than falling together into the back in a fit of passion.

You were aware of what was dripping between your legs, and tried to not further the mess. You’d already have to wash your dress, might as well spare his car seats.

“You wanna come back to my place?” Rafe offered as he started the car again.

You could hear in his voice that he hoped you’d say yes, but you didn’t think you could pass by Sarah and pretend you weren’t there for her brother.

Oh god… Sarah.

As you looked to Rafe, you were forced to remember that he was your best friend’s brother. And if that combination wasn’t bad enough, someone else crept into your head—your boyfriend, who you’d totally just cheated on. There wasn’t a nicer way to put it.

Your mouth felt dry as you swallowed. The carefree, relieved attitude you held faded.

“I need to get home,” you decided, voice weaker than it had been before.

Rafe was quiet for a moment before agreeing.

You felt silly, not knowing what to say to him now after all that, but you couldn’t get out of your own head, wondering if you were a terrible person.

Well, more accurately, you couldn’t stop thinking about the answer. You were certain you knew it.

When Rafe stopped outside of your house and put the truck in park, he looked at you with a gaze so intense you were held in place.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N,” Rafe professed, tone steady. He believed it. “I know you know that.”

You almost opened your mouth to argue, but the words died in your throat.

“Goodnight, Rafe,” you said instead, climbing out of the truck.

As you crossed across the front, you heard the light buzz of his window rolling down.

“I’ll see you soon, alright?” Rafe called, prolonging the goodbye. “I had fun,” he added, and your footsteps faltered. “And I don’t regret a thing.”

Rafe stayed until you got to your front door, found the key under the mat, and slipped inside.

Only when the door shut did the truck pull away. You may or may not have watched out the window, his parting words replaying in your mind.

As guilty as you felt, you didn’t either, and that might’ve been the worst part.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Read II

England Lionesses x Child!Reader

Mary Earps x Child!Reader

Summary: There's a reason you don't have sugar

You hold reading lessons every day at camp because you want the rest of the England team to not be knuckleheads anymore and to prove Mikey from school wrong.

It's not easy to learn how to read so you know you need to come back to make sure everyone has been keeping up with their learning because that's what Mummy and Daddy do to you.

They started teaching you how to read very early so you were fairly advanced when you went to school.

You think Mikey's just jealous because you're a good reader and he's a bad one but, still, you want to make sure to prove him wrong.

Mary always says the best revenge is proving haters wrong. You don't know if Mikey's a hater but you'll assume he is because better safe than sorry.

You've done a good job at teaching everyone though because Maya, Millie T and Tooney all give you some sherbet sweets. They make your mouth go a little tingly when you try them but you like that feeling so the three of them keep feeding you more.

They're responsible for you while Mary's getting the last bit of treatment before you all get on the coach to go to the stadium. Usually, someone else is responsible for you but you did a quick reading lesson for Maya and Millie with Tooney as your assistant so they're supervising you before the journey.

You decide that you really like the sherbet straws they give you and Maya dares you to see how many you can finish before you have to go.

You don't count but it's definitely a lot.

Enough for you to feel super hyped when you're finally reunited with Mary. She's picked out a set of four seats with a table and she's already got your rucksack full of books open for you to pick from.

You're very advanced in your reading for such a young kid but even you struggle a little bit. Now that you've taught Mary to read, she can read very well from the books that are a bit too complicated for you right now so she's in charge of reading them to you as you drive to the pitch.

"Er..." You say as you look at the selection," That one."

"Alright," Mary says, cracking open the book and clearing her throat. She gets about halfway through before she notices how wiggly you're being. "Hey, rugrat, do you need the toilet?"

You frown. "No. Keep reading, Mary."

"Are you sure? I can take you."

"No, Mary. My book, please."

"Alright." Mary keeps reading but she's acutely aware of the way you keep wiggling in your seat.

You seem to think you're fine though. Or, at least, you don't think you need the toilet which is Mary's main worry.

"Okay," She says finally," Go and find someone to hang out with. I need to talk to Tooney."

You seem all too happy to scamper off, practically throwing yourself at Beth across the aisle.

"Tooney!" Mary snaps, interrupting the conversation she and Alessia are having.

"Jesus, Mary! You scared me there!"

"What did you give my sister?" Mary demands," She's never been like this before."

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

Mary points over to where you've decided it's a funny idea to crowd surf over the girls at the front, who are bouncing you a bit as they pass you off to the girls sitting behind them.

"She doesn't do that! She's also not wiggly on the bus! What did you give her?"

Tooney winces. "I gave her nothing!"

Mary narrows her eyes. "What did you let Millie and Maya give her?"

Tooney's eyes dart to them quickly before she clears her throat. "I've got the right to remain silent! Anything I say or do can be used against me in a court of-"

Mary's already moved off before Tooney can finish and she crosses the coach to confront the other two. "I'm not interested in excuses. Tell me what you've given my sister."

Her gaze is clearly intimidating because Maya and Millie fold instantly and Mary's on her way back to her seat, easily plucking you from someone's arms to set you back down next to her.

It seems most of the sugar rush has disappeared now but then another problem makes itself known.

The bus goes over a series of bumps and you make a little aborted movement forward.

Mary recognises the action and whips out a plastic bag. "Here, rugrat," She says," Let it out. Let it all out."

She rubs your back as you throw up. It takes a lot longer than usual to hurl up your guts and Mary narrows her eyes over the top of her seat to look at Millie and Maya.

This is all their fault, Mary knows it.

It's because of all of the sugar you've consumed that you've thrown up so bad and, as she ties the bag shut, Mary briefly contemplates throwing it at Millie and Maya.

"Juice, please," You say and Mary hands it to you," Sorry, Mary."

"It's okay," She says," It's not your fault. Do you want to continue your book?"

You nod, leaning against your sister, energy drained. "Yes, please."

[pretty-little-mind33]

chaser!James Potter x chaser!fem!reader

Summary: James is threatened by how good you are at Quidditch which means he hates you. And what emotion is closer to hate than love?

Genre: Angsty Fluff, 'rivals' to lovers <3

Warnings: James is seriously a dick in the beginning, teasing, slight bullying, swearing, fighting, social class differences, reader is an only child, didn't really understand how Quidditch Captains are appointed but bare with me <3

~ finally finished this! loved this ask anon! thank you, my lovely! ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

James Potter is sprawled across the large, maroon, couch in the center of the Gryffindor Common room, his arms draped over the cushions as his legs lay across Sirius Black's lap.

Sirius, who would probably mind more if he wasn't as drunk as his best friend. 

"I mean, fuck me, she wasn't even that good and McGonagall saw her and still looked at her like she'd just hung the moon in the sky!" James exclaims, his ears burning as he recalls Quidditch tryouts that morning. 

He's pissed. 

"You're just annoyed that she just started and now has a chance at Captain because Mini liked her so much," Sirius points out, which earns him a harsh swat on the top of his head.

James's face sours and he restrains himself from whining like a petulant child. Sirius was right, he was mad because you gave him a run for his money and no one has done that until now. 

This was supposed to be his year. McGonagall loved him (mostly)! The Captain position was basically promised to him since his second year and now you've come around and ruined this for him! 

"She's seriously not even that good, it's infuriating," James lies and looks around the small gathering they're having. He knows everyone can hear him but he doesn't care. "And she's so fucking annoying," he sounds bitter, "she's always talking everyone's ears off— and have you seen her stupid hair? She wore those fucking space buns just to make herself look cute, I swear!" He lifts himself off the couch for a moment, his arms raising in exasperation, and then lets out a sigh. 

"That is usually the reason girls do their hair, James, yes," Remus interrupts from the floor where he's reading his book, his back leaning against the couch. 

"Shut up," James grumbles and slumps back down. "I don't want her on the team. She's a nuisance already." 

"Speaking of," Peter adds, his voice smaller as he glances towards the stairs to the girls' dorms. James whips his head around and his eyes narrow. You're walking towards the small gathering with some friends. 

You're dressed in a Quidditch sweater that is only slightly oversized as the sleeves cover your hands. You're blissfully unaware of how much James Potter hates you so when you see him staring, you assume he wants to talk to you. You liked his company during tryouts. He was funny.

You'd always found him funny. 

So, you walk over with a smile and James struggles to sit up. He's very obviously sloshed. 

"Hello, Potter," you say and your smile widens. "This is Jane and that's Gabrielle," you introduce your friends. "I enjoyed try-outs, you were amazing. If I'm honest, I've always admired you during games. You're so talented," you feel yourself rambling but you're smiling too much to stop yourself, "I'm so happy we're gonna be on the same team now! I think we should–" 

James cuts you off, a mean smirk on his lips as he looks at his friends and the students around you, "What did I say? A little chatterbox this one is," he quips, not completely unaware of how harsh his words are even in his drunken state. 

Your hands fall at your sides, and the wind feels like it's been knocked from your lungs at his words when you realize he's making fun of you. You look at your friends and they stare at James with pronounced frowns.

"Oh," you whisper, but then you add, "That's not very nice, Potter." 

A little surprised you'd had the guts to stand up to him, James retorts instantly. "Yeah? Is it now, Y/l/n?" He sounds mocking again and you don't understand why. 

Your friends pull on your sleeve. "C'mon, Y/n, he's a prick," they turn you around, feeling how hurt you are as they walk away from James and his friends. 

"Classy, James, real classy," Remus mutters under his breath. 

And as awful as sober James might admit it is, he feels like he'd won something against you. 

* * *

You can't understand why James seems to hate you as much as he does. 

You've never been mean to him or done anything to harm him— on the contrary, you've only ever spoken highly of him and you know you've made a point of showing him that you trust him as a player when you're practicing. You want him to trust you too. 

And still, James hates you and he makes that very clear. 

He turns anything into a competition when it comes to you and it's obvious he takes pleasure in making you feel like shit.

As the days turn into weeks, you feel hopeless and even now you find yourself sitting alone on the grass during breaks, adjusting your uniform so you look busy as you hold in your tears. 

You can hear James's cruel whispers about you to your teammates, purposefully creating rifts between you and them so you'll feel even more alone.

"She's so desperate," James's mockery causes another ache in your stomach and you chew on your lip so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood. You try not to listen to him as the whistle blows and the practice game starts again. 

You're not on James's team this time–which means he either ignores you completely or targets you over anyone. As he hovers near you, you realize this morning it's the latter. 

Maria Baker throws you the Quaffle and just as she does, you can sense James coming. You avoid his shoulder just in time and, with a huff, you score into the nearest hoop.

This just infuriates James even more and ups his game—which means the next time you have the Quaffle, he flies up to your shoulder again and pushes you hard to the side. He jabs his elbow into your ribs, purposefully playing dirty. 

You wince. "O-ow, James, that hurts," you hiss, focusing on staying in the air as James rough-houses with you.

Your anger builds now and you shove him back, almost slipping from your broom as you try and defend yourself.

The Quaffle falls from your arms as James hits your shoulder with his again and you gasp. You expect him to rush to the ball and continue the game but he's furious from you shoving him so he grabs one of your braids and pulls. 

You feel yourself fall from your broom as you cry in pain and you turn your body, clutching the end of James's uniform and, with a grunt from him, you're suddenly both plummeting to the ground. 

You roll onto your stomach, falling onto James's chest as his arms automatically wrap around your back and he groans, looking up at you as you practically straddle his lap. Your head is throbbing from where he'd pulled your hair, your left braid messier than your right, and pure fury flashes in your eyes. 

You lean over James, grabbing a handful of his curls and you pull. "What the bloody hell is your problem? How do you like it, hm?! You insufferable jerk!" 

James doesn't take too kindly to this and he grabs your wrists, flipping you over so you're the one under him. His mum had told him never to hit a girl but oh does he want to hit you right now. You're staring up at him with that look he hates—the one that makes him feel all fluttery in his stomach.

You're struggling against his grip, grass in your hair. James's cheeks must be just as covered in dirt as yours are and his shoulder aches from the way he'd fallen. 

"Potter! Y/l/n!" The whistle blows and the current Captain, Ines Clarke, runs up with McGonagall behind her. She'd seen the commotion from inside and seemed more than furious as she rushed over.

Some of your teammates follow, including Sirius Black who grips James's collar and pulls him off you. You hear Sirius hiss, "Prongs!! What in Godric's name is wrong with you?!" and then McGonagall pulls your attention to her. 

Ines helps you up, looking concerned but then turns her attention to James. McGonagall walks over and when she sees the mess James has made of you, she frowns. "Are you alright, Miss Y/l/n?"

You nod, your lips pressed tightly as you see a bunch of your teammates have gathered around James as he rolls his shoulder. You look at your broom, which lies broken on the grass, and your eyes water. McGonagall senses your distress and she glances at James. 

"James Potter!" She suddenly snaps her dainty fingers and James is next to her in seconds, both hands gripping his only slightly damaged broom. 

It had been better quality than yours anyway. 

His nervous eyes dart from McGonagall to you as he takes you in. You stare at him, unable to look away from how messy you've made his naturally tousled hair and you wonder if grass and dirt stick to your cheeks just as they do to James'. 

"This," McGonagall points in between you both, "isn't how we do things here—you know this better than anyone, Mr. Potter. Your behavior is unacceptable." she reprimands him sternly and then looks at you, "and Miss Y/l/n, no matter how other teammates provoke you, you don't have the right to lay your hands on them either."

"But–" 

"No. No more buts." McGonagall ignores both your protests as she looks down at your broom. "You need to learn how to behave like a team."

She thinks for a moment. "Tomorrow morning, you'll travel to Hogsmeade so Miss Y/l/n can replace her broom. Mr. Potter, you'll help her without any complaints, and neither of you better step foot on the pitch again until you've worked out whatever this feud is." 

Your eyes widen. You want to tell McGonagall you cannot buy a new broom right now, but she clearly doesn't have anyexcuses about her new team bonding exercise. This means, much to your dismay, you end up waiting for James early the next morning, hugging your arms around you as you pick at the wool on your sweater. 

James is ten minutes late. You want to kill him. 

"Oi," his voice calls from behind you, irritatingly nonchalant. You turn and see he's also wearing his Quidditch sweater—which means you're now unintentionally matching—and a pair of casual trousers. James sends you a lopsided smirk, pushing his hands into his pockets as he sways on his feet almost awkwardly. "Why so gloomy, newb?" he mocks, the nickname rolling cruelly from his tongue.

You scrunch up your nose and spin around, walking in front of him as you clutch your purse. You don't want to give him a reaction and have him mock you the entire way into town. Instead, you both walk in silence, taking in the morning air and the sound of the birds.

Occasionally your purse will hit James's hip and he'll frown, opening to say another snarky comment until he sees a keychain; the one you have of Olive Gnats, a famous chaser from the Montrose Magpies.

"Oh, Gnats, I like her too—" he finds himself admitting before he can remind himself he hates you. 

You startle and clutch your keychain, wanting to hide it from him but then you look down and then back up at James. "O-oh, yeah, she's my favorite player. Her technique is incomparable."

"Seen her match last year?"

"'Course," you say, your tone less on edge now that you're talking about something you clearly love, and the rambling you do so much kicks in, "I would watch her every game ever since I was six years old. Have around ten posters in my room at home, some are old now but—I- I studied her moves when I would play around with my mum and dad—they also played in school—that's how they met—" You cut yourself off, James's earlier taunts ringing in your head. 

Your rambling is ignored as curiously overpowers him and James asks, "You have no siblings to play with?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Only child."

James's hazel eyes soften and he feels a funny feeling in his chest. "Oh, m-me too. Has its perks and its downfalls, y'know?" he whispers as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His heart pounds.

The sun hits your skin just perfectly and your hair smells like cinnamon shampoo. James feels drawn to you again—just like he had in the beginning—and he wants to stop himself but when you laugh at his comment, he feels like an arrow has just shot his heart. 

"Oh yeah, it certainly does," you sound guarded again and James can't even be upset.

It's his fault you're like this around him.

He opens the door for you when you enter Quality Quidditch Supplies and the little bell rings. Instantly, you're drawn to the newest broom—displayed with polished wood and improved flying qualities—but you turn your head, knowing instantly you can't pay for a broom like that—

"Hey, look at this one," James's excitement tugs at your heart and you walk over, standing beside him as you can't help but admire the broom up close. "It feels amazing," James says as he runs his hand over the smooth wood. He's grinning. "This is the one, isn't it?"

You bite your cheek. You want it to be.

"I don't know, I–haven't seen the others," you whisper, avoiding James's eyes.

"What? What are you talking about? This one is the best by far, you aren't gonna find a better broom."

"I want to look around," you whisper, looking at the price of this broom, and your heart sinks.

"Y/n, this is ridiculous—"

"James, stop," you snap, very clearly annoyed. You can't tell if he means well by being persistent since he's only just now started to show you any form of kindness and this still feels like some cruel joke he's playing on you.

"I can't pay for this one—and the truth is I can't pay for any of these so—I- I think—" you pause, clutching at your purse desperately as you hold in tears of embarrassment. "I should tell McGonagall I couldn't find a broom I liked and I'll borrow an older one from my parents—

—plus, if I buy this one you'll just have another reason to hate me," you finish. 

Your words hit James hard as he takes in what you mean. Shame sneaks up on him instantly as he knows exactly why you would think that. It suddenly hits him just how threatened he's been and as silly as it sounds the only image in James's head is the disappointed look of his mother if she knew he had taken out his own insecurities on you. 

If Euphemia Potter knew how much of a dick he's been to you, she'd be horrified.

He looks at you closely, taking in how embarrassed you look. During tense moments with his friends, Remus had sometimes told him he was a spoiled rich boy—unaware of real struggles — and he'd always brushed him off.

Only this time, he can't unhear Remus's jab as he realizes how foolish he had been to assume anything about you.

"Oh," he whispers.

You look away at the other brooms. "I- I honestly didn't realize how expensive new brooms are. My mum and dad had gotten the other one for my eleventh birthday—I should have been more careful—" You sound sad and James's heart sinks. 

"Hey, listen, it's my fault your broom is broken. I- shouldn't have been so rough on you like I was. I'm sorry," he speaks up, sounding sincere and you look up at him, expecting a better explanation than that. 

"It's no excuse but, the truth is, I was incredibly threatened by you. You're so good, better than me even, and I really want Captain so—"

"I don't want Captain," you say instantly. "I just wanted to be on the team—"

At that point, James remembers what you'd said that night when he was piss-drunk in the Common Room. 'I've always admired you during games.' It dawns on him that you just wanted him to like you and, instead, he'd gone and seen you as an enemy. His chest hurts. 

He has never felt more like an ass than now. 

"Okay, well, um," he whispers, rubbing his nape, "Let me make it up to you then. I'll buy you the broom." James means well, he truly does, but it only makes you feel more embarrassed and you shake your head. 

"No. I don't need your pity," you say instantly as you stare at him, eyes narrowed. 

"I'm not pitying you! I'm fixing my mistake," he exclaims, his voice strained.

You open your mouth to protest when he adds, "Please."

James looks determined as he rummages through his robes for any spare change he can use and then he curses. "Shit, I didn't bring enough money," he mumbles and lifts his head, looking up at you with his puppy-like brown eyes. "I promise I'll buy it for you, Y/n. Okay? I'll make this right," he adds again and your expression softens. 

"Sure, James," you whisper, not entirely sure if you believe him. 

* * *

He did buy you the broom.

James had it wrapped neatly with a small letter signed J.P accompanied with the words, "I'm sorry," scribbled onto the parchment. 

Since that morning, he didn't ignore you anymore, he included you with the other teammates, and he played fair with you—even complimenting you sometimes. McGonagall had seen the change in dynamic and so had Ines, which she'd praised you both for.

"Good job, Y/l/n," Ines grins as she packs up her bags, "you and Potter seem to be getting on much better now." She winks and her comment passes over you as you focus on untying your ponytail, rubbing your scalp. 

The rest of the team has fallen in front of you, laughing and chatting as they walk back to the dorm. You're lost in the moment, struggling with holding your bag as you run your hand in your hair, the tightness of the ponytail was causing you a headache. 

Suddenly, you suddenly squeal when you almost trip over James—who had bent down to tie his shoes and had been separated from the group. 

He grunts and stands up, turning around and catching your arm as he steadies you. 

"Oh hey, Y/n," he grins, and then he glances at your poor bag hanging from your arm. Swiftly, he takes your bag and holds it over his other shoulder, not even commenting on the gesture. 

"Want some company walking back to the Common Room?" he asks casually.

You blow some strands away from your eyes as you look up at him, grateful for the momentary relief from your bag as the pain in your scalp subsides.

"Sure," you say, reaching for your bag but James holds it up and away from you. 

"Let me be a gentleman here," he teases.

You roll your eyes with no malice. "Hero complex much, Potter?"

He chuckles as you walk inside the school, side by side. James winks at you. "On the contrary, Y/l/n, I am the hero. Don't need a complex when you are one, y'know?"

You laugh, hearing the joking infliction in his voice as your heart feels lighter. Much to your better judgment, you've actually been enjoying James's company these last weeks, and talking to him alone like this has been even more fun. "I think you think much too highly of yourself, James." you tease him back. 

"I am wounded, Y/n." He fakes hurt as he puts a hand over his heart. 

"It's true is it not?" you say with a smirk and James narrows his eyes as you turn a corner, getting closer to the Common Room. You shrug, catching yourself. "Nothing wrong with some confidence." 

James grins, his eyes sparkling playfully as he gently nudges your side with his elbow. "You could learn a few things from me, eh?"

You frown. "Are you saying I'm not confident?"

James hums, smirking, "'M just giving you some advice, love. You have the skills now, you gotta trust yourself." You both approach the entrance and you mutter the secret word to the Fat Lady Painting and the door cracks open. You push it further with your palm. 

"Since when are you giving me Quidditch advice to make me better?" 

James turns around once he's inside and hands you your bag. "Since I realized if you can't beat them, join them," he jokes with a smile, "We're a team now, Y/n. I know I was a real dick in the beginning, but I look out for my teammates. You're my teammate, so now I look after you."

Your shoulders relax and a small smile tugs your lips. "Thanks, James," you say honestly and rest your bag higher on your shoulder, tucking some hair behind your ear as you smooth the knots a little. "I really appreciate that."

"Anytime," James whispers as you walk up the stairs to the girl's dorm. Sirius whistles from where he's sitting on one of the couches, his head leaning against the armrest as he watches you and James. Once you disappear from view, James spins around, his eyes narrowing at his best friend. 

Sirius winks and looks at James's sneakers. "This is the third time this week you've used that stupid shoelace excuse, Prongs. At this point, just stay back and ask her to walk with you, you chicken."

James's cheeks turn crimson and he walks over to shove Sirius, "Shut up." 

Sirius just laughs loudly. 

* * *

You've never felt so nervous in your life as you clutch the wood of your new, expensive, broom. The wind has picked up and everyone can tell the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor seekers are having a hard time finding the snitch. You're breathing heavily as you look around, seeing Maria—the third chaser—throw James the Quaffle. 

James easily catches the Quaffle, avoiding the Ravenclaws on his right as he swoops lower. Your adrenaline is pumping and you think you know what he's doing. You hope. You fly closer and higher to the hoops, letting James know you're open.

Your memory flashes to the beginning when he wouldn't pass you the Quaffle under any circumstances, even if it cost the team the point. He can be so headstrong and your body is buzzing as you watch him closely.

What if he doesn't throw it to you? You have the perfect shot. 

James looks at you from the corner of his eye, shoving a Ravenclaw with his shoulder to disorient them.

He could want the score for himself—but he's surrounded, he could miss.

The sound of the crowd is drowned out when you see his arm raise and he's communicating with his eyes. You nod, jumping into action as you fly closer and avoid the Ravenclaws as you catch the Quaffle and throw your arm back, throwing the Quaffle directly into the middle hoop. 

Just as you score, Oliver—Ravenclaw's seeker—catches the snitch and the whistle blows. Gryffindor was leading already and you glance at the board. It didn't matter that Oliver caught the snitch, your goal had helped secure Gryffindor the win. Cheers erupt around you and you find yourself in a trance as your feet hit the ground and you clutch your broom.

"Y/n!" Someone calls your name as the ringing in your ears dies and you feel hands wrap around your waist, hoisting you up in the air as you twirl around. A gasp escapes your lips as you clutch onto the culprit's shoulder, the cheers continuing to echo around the pitch.  

"You did so amazingly," James's excitement shines as he slowly lowers you back onto the ground, your chest brushing against his as your hands find themselves wrapped around his neck. You stare into his eyes, feeling his proximity and you suddenly feel warm and dizzy.

Has he always been this handsome?

"James." His name is the only thing your brain can think to say as he refuses to let you go. He also looks breathless and his cheeks have turned a faint shade of pink as his eyes roam over your features. 

You want to tell him a thousand things. How good he was, how you're so happy the team won, how honored you are he trusted you enough to throw you the Quaffle to make the score. You want to ask if you were more confident this time and if he's noticed your effort—but instead, any attempt at words is drowned by his lips meeting yours. 

You don't kiss him back for a moment, your hand faltering behind his neck as your fingers find the baby hairs on his nape. He feels so close and your lips part a little, kissing him back carefully as your eyes shut. 

James's hands squeeze your waist and for a moment the crowd and the team are completely forgotten until James pulls away, and the sound of cheering returns as the realization of what happened dawns on you both. 

"I'm sorry," James mutters, stepping away but he keeps a hand on you. 

"You're sorry?" you ask, your voice small. 

James hesitates, looking at you seriously and then he shakes his head. "No. I'm not sorry."

Your lips curl upwards and, still ignoring everyone around you, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss his lips again. James grins against your mouth, his heart thumps in his chest as all he can think about is you.

"Oi, no PDA on the pitch, you pervs!" Sirius's teasing voice suddenly shouts out from somewhere beside you but you're almost positive no one else is worried about you and James considering everyone's celebrating on their own.

James must feel the same because he throws up a middle finger with the hand that leaves your waist and you laugh into his mouth, reaching for his arm to stop him.

"Prick," James mutters to Sirius, "You're annoying," he adds with some playful bite. 

He turns to you and his gaze softens. "But you're lovely," he whispers, earning him the prettiest smile he's ever seen and he's never been more proud.

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese

[steddieas-shegoes]

scared to want you

for @steddie-week prompt 'exes to lovers'

rated m | 1021 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: post breakup, getting back together, idiots in love, platonic stobin

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

“Are you gonna stop staring at him anytime soon?” Robin’s voice asked loudly in his ear.

“Probably not,” Steve admitted. “He’s wearing my sweater.”

He saw Robin’s head whip around to look back at Eddie. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

It’s surprising to see Eddie here at all, let alone in Steve’s sweater. Eddie had moved back in with Wayne three months ago after an argument with Steve that led whatever they were to destruction.

Steve wanted more, Eddie had been afraid. Steve said he loved him, Eddie said he needed to leave.

Steve spent the last three months hurting. Eddie was wearing his sweater in public.

Everything was a little confusing right now.

“We should go, Steve.” Robin sounded angry now, and Steve loved her for it. She’d been the one to show up at his door a few hours after Eddie was gone and held him while he cried. She’d been there for weeks while he avoided everyone’s questions, went through the motions of being an adult while barely getting by. She had blocked Eddie on all of his social media and her own out of spite. “It doesn’t do you any good to sit here and pine after someone who hurt you.”

She was right, of course, but he couldn’t leave.

Eddie was wearing his sweater.

Eddie looked good in his sweater.

“Steve.”

Steve turned to Robin, who was smiling sadly back at him.

“I don’t think I can go without talking to him.”

Robin nodded once, always so understanding of Steve, supportive even when he didn’t always deserve it. She was the best, and he was about to piss her off.

“I’ll text you when I leave,” he said as he gave her a quick hug. She wouldn’t want to stick around to see what happens with this. “I’ll be fine.”

He wouldn’t, and she knew that, but she squeezed his hand in hers and left anyway.

Eddie hadn’t noticed him yet, or at least wasn’t acting like he had. He was standing at the bar talking to the bartender and a woman who walked in only a few minutes ago. Whatever he was talking about seemed serious, none of them smiling.

Steve walked up to the bar slowly, but with the sole purpose of talking to Eddie.

The bartender turned to him and smiled. “Hey, hon. You need another Sunrise, Sunset?”

Steve shook his head, but smiled at her. “No thanks, Kim. Just here to say hi to someone.”

When he turned towards Eddie, he was already looking back at him, biting his lip nervously.

“Hey, Eds.”

“Hey, Stevie.”

“Been a bit,” Steve swallowed. He didn’t actually know what he was trying to accomplish here. All he knew was there had to be a reason he was wearing Steve’s sweater. It wasn’t exactly his usual style. “Doing alright?”

The other woman seemed to catch onto what was going on, turning away and talking to the bartender instead.

“Um, yeah I guess.” Eddie was lying. Steve could always tell when he was lying. “You?”

“Been better,” Steve replied. “A little surprised to see you here. In that.”

Eddie looked down at what he was wearing and then up at Steve, cheeks red with embarrassment. “Laundry day.”

“Sure.” Steve sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. He just had to say something. Maybe closure would be good. “Can we talk somewhere else?”

Eddie nodded and started to walk to the back of the bar where the office and bathrooms were. Steve followed, assuming they’d go into the bathroom and hope no one came in. When Eddie led him into the office, Steve frowned.

“I don’t think we have permission to be in here.”

“I work here part time. Kim lets me take my breaks in here,” Eddie explained, closing the door behind them. “I didn’t know you liked this bar.”

“We’ve only been a few times,” Steve explained.

“Oh, you’ve um. You and your date?” Eddie was leaning against the desk, eyes cast down to his feet.

“No. Me and Robin.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath. “Right, good, yeah.”

“Eddie, look at me.” Steve stepped closer, could almost feel the heat coming off of Eddie’s body. Eddie looked up at him, eyes watery and bottom lip bitten red. “Why are you wearing my sweater?”

“I needed you.” Eddie’s broken voice was all Steve needed to close what little distance remained between them, pulling Eddie against him and holding him as tightly as he possibly could.

“I didn’t think you needed me anymore,” Steve said against his neck, trying not to get his hopes up despite Eddie’s tears now soaking his shirt. “You didn’t want me anymore.”

Eddie’s hands tightened in Steve’s shirt and Steve felt him shake his head. “I wanted you too much. I was scared how much I wanted you.”

“Are you still scared now?”

“Only that I don’t have you.”

Steve’s lips found Eddie’s, hopeful and desperate.

Eddie took control within seconds, turning them around so Steve was sitting on the corner of the desk, legs spread so Eddie could fit between them. Where he belonged.

As Eddie’s hands pushed Steve’s shirt up and Steve’s legs pulled him in impossibly closer, the thought that they were still in a public place occurred to Steve.

He ignored it as Eddie’s thumb brushed against his nipple and his teeth bit his bottom lip.

“Want you now,” Eddie groaned against Steve’s neck. “Want you forever.”

“Lock the door.” Steve ordered.

Eddie locked the door.

****

When they left the office, hair disheveled and suspicious stains on their shirts, they were met with a knowing look from Kim.

Eddie rolled his eyes and pushed Steve out the door by the small of his back.

“Still living with Wayne?” Steve asked.

“Yeah. Could we go to yours?” Eddie asked hesitantly.

“Only if it can be ours.”

Eddie stopped him on the sidewalk, eyes blinking furiously. “You would want that? After I left?”

Steve smiled. “Are you gonna leave again or are you gonna let me love you?”

“You can still love me?”

“I couldn’t not love you.”

“Then let’s go to ours.”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉…𝓈𝒽ℴ𝒸𝓀ℯ𝒹

req: Rafe X r. She has only had one boyfriend and that’s the only person she has been intimate with. Because of her more sweet introverted shy nature, he assumes that she has never done anal so Rafes jokes about “at least getting to claim her first somewhere else” but then gets so shocked when she confesses.

a/n: i thought of season one Rafe for this for some reason. Also im trying new formats lol my older ones sucked and im trying to figure out better ones. send some inspo maybe??

warnings: smut, fem!reader, possessive rafe, anal, a lil titty sucking (I’m not sorry) porn w plot, praise kink hehehe, names (baby, my girl)

MASTERLIST

divider below by @/plutism

“Hey,” Rafe rasped out from behind you, you jumping and turning to him. His hands went to your shoulders, eyes looking you up and down in your dress.

You thought that he was still in his room, you were clearly wrong. You had stayed the night at Tannyhill for Midsummers, and Ward insisted on you staying in the guest bedroom.

This was your first time seeing Rafe in this suit, and God, it was hot on him.

“Jesus, don’t scare me.” You pouted and gently shoved his chest, a playful smirk on his face. “But, hi.”

“You look good.” He told you, a smile also forming on your face at his compliment.

“You do too.” You replied shyly, cheeks burning at his compliment. You knew that look in his eyes all too well. That look of lust, of need, his eyes glossed over and turned a darker shade. He leaned in to kiss you, his hands traveling down your back, and to the curve of your ass.

You let out a little moan when he squeezed the flesh through your dress. When he pulled away, you shook your head. He pouted at you.

“C’mon. Just like… one round.” He tried, already trying to get you on the guest bed that you slept in for the night

“After.” You murmured against his lips, Rafe pulled away when he heard a knock on the door.

“Y/n, Rafe, c’mon! You’re gonna make us all late.” Ward spoke, you sighing. Rafe opened the door for you.

“Oh, you two look adorable.” Rose told you, a crooked smile on her face when you both walked out together.

You gave her a shy smile, Rafe turned to you, whispering something in your ear.

“Hey, we’re gonna spend the night at Top’s.” He told his dad. Ward just nodded and said goodbye, not thinking anything of it.

You giggled as he pulled you away from the crowd, and you both walked hand in hand down the street.

“Why are we staying at a hotel again?” You asked him, turning to look at the boy.

“Well, there’s only one reason, right?” He said with a smile on his face, turning to look at you.

“What’s that reason?”

“You don’t know the reason?” He teased. You shook your head.

“Just tell me!”

“Well, I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you. And then we are gonna go get drunk. As drunk as we possibly can.” He said shamelessly with a shrug, your cheeks burned up and you shook your head at his word choice, just glad that the buzzing cars and the sound of loud music blared through so no passerby’s could hear.

You both got the best room that money could buy, Rafe opening the door for you and leading you inside, smirk on his face.

He pushed you down on the bed, hovering on top of you, his lips traveled down your body.

“God, all fuckin’ mine, huh?” He murmured, more to himself. His hands went to your back, you arched your back and helped him shove the dress off of your body.

“At least I can claim you first somewhere else, right?” He murmured, smirk on his face as his eyes raked down your body, his hands working at his belt and pants.

“What does that mean?” You asked him with a quirked eyebrow.

“You lost your virginity to that other douche, right?”

“Yeah…” you trailed off, still very confused.

“He hasn’t fucked that ass, though.”

Your eyes widened, looking around the room. His hands were now tugging off his boxers before you started stuttering, holding a hand out.

“What? You don’t wanna?” He asked you, stopping and looking down at you, slightly afraid he scared you and did something wrong.

Usually you were up for everything, and you both had brought up the topic before and you said you wouldn’t mind it.

“No- no, I do, but- I…” you shut your eyes as you mumbled the words out, confessing to him. “He did.”

“What?” His eyes widened, movements stopping for a moment.

“He has before.”

“Shit.” He laughed out, running a hand through his hair. That was not what he expected.

“Are you mad?” You asked him quietly, opening your eyes now, looking up at him.

“Course not, baby.” He scoffed. “Just… shocked.“

“I’m sorry.” You murmured.

“Nah. That’s alright. Because it’s all fucking mine now, ain’t it?” He asked, lips back on your skin, leaning down to kiss your cheeks and your neck, you letting out a moan and nodding against him.

“Fuck. All mine.” He muttered against your collarbone, his lips moving against your boobs, he looked up at you as he swirled his tongue around your nipple, taking one in your mouth, making you let out a cry of his name and look back down at him.

He released it with a ‘pop’, going back down to your holes. He spit on his hand, before bringing it down to his cock, jerking it a few times with grunts and groans before lining it up with your tight hole.

Your hands went to his shoulders, letting out a gasp and a sob as he stretched your hole out.

“Shhh, shhh, shh..” he told you, groans escaping his mouth as he felt your walls clench onto him. “You’re a’ight.” He murmured, going to kiss you again, licking away your salty tears.

He sighed when he bottomed out, waiting for you to get adjusted to his size. After a while, you nodded against him. “You can move.” You whispered out, causing him to slowly start moving, a hand going to your clit, rubbing circles on the button, you letting out soft and quiet moans that were like music to his ears.

“God, you feel so good.” He told you, feeling you clench down harder on his length at his praise, a small smirk on his face. “My girl. Fuck,”

“Rafe!” You cried out, nails clawing at his bare back, sure to leave marks. “I’m gonna-“

“I know, I know.” He grunted out, feeling himself also come close, his fingers working faster on your clit, pressing down on it. That was all you needed to come undone, crying out his name and holding him closer, as he came in your ass with groans and grunts.

You both panted, foreheads put together as he started to laugh. You furrowed your eyebrow and looked at him, confused.

“We need to do that more often.”

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Pac-Man

Debut: a box

We all know Pac-Man in the game. You know Pac-Man in the game. I do not need to explain what he looks like to you, and I am so confident in your knowledge that I simply will not. You know that guy.

Now let's instead look at and talk about Hiro Kimura's interpretation of him as depicted on the Atari 400/800 box art! Let's make this our default vision of the character!

This is Pac-Man. Pac-Man is a striking yellow humanoid with a massive, spherical head, no nose, and a set of rodent-like upper incisors. He's wearing a tank top with his in-game design on it, sneakers with high socks, and, best of all, jorts!

This design DOES register enough as a Pac-Man to me, but aside from how goofy he already is, I can't help but think of him as a Stanley S. SquarePants-style cousin to the original Pac-Man. It's almost uncanny how similar the duos are!

Now, an issue I have with many Ms. Pac-Man designs is that, unlike her husband, she is often given a tiny mouth, not a mouth befitting a woman who eats for a living. How is this Pac-fella's mouth? A bit small, but not as small as the bites he's taking out of those floating plastic discs! I guess it's as much as he can get with that narrow set of teeth.

But geez, reaching for another when he's barely made any progress in the first? I hope he doesn't choke! Since this is a still image, I will give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he is able to chew through these discs like a woodchipper, and we just happen to see the frozen moment where only the first bite was taken. He can turn these macroplastics into microplastics like nobody's business!

And I guess he's in some kind of castle labyrinth, and the ghosts are trying to eat him, specifically. They think he looks Yummy, and I will have to take their word for it. I would not eat this guy, OR his plastic discs! However, there is a reason I am glossing over these ghosts. They're nothing in comparison to... the others.

Yowza in the howza! My word, and then my entire sentence! The ghosts on the unused Atari 2600 cover art (also by Hiro Kimura) are certainly the most viscerally frightening things any Pac has ever had to contend with. It's quite impressive, really! I can see why this art would be replaced, since it is frankly not an accurate representation of the game itself, but dang am I happy just to look at it. The Pacmeister here is very similar to the previous one, but this time, clad in perfect, stainless chrome, for some reason! I'd want to eat this version even less than the previous one.

What I WOULD like to eat, though, are those rectangular prisms he's munching. To me, those are delectable baked lemon bars. I'm also realizing that there's a frog hopping away from the chaos in the bottom right! Strange... perhaps a cheeky Frogger reference? Like, get outta here, Frogger, Pac-Man is better, and it's illegal to like multiple things at once? Well I like BOTH of these wacky box arts! If Capcom can use Bad Box Art Mega Man in a game, perhaps I can hope for Pac-Stanley to return in an amazing digital fashion...?

[often-daydreaming]

Road Trip

It was... It was always just a fight but the last one between Jason and Bruce had been one of their worst and things only escalated after he accused Jason of having something to do with the Joker's disappearance.

It was another thing to hold against him. Another excuse to keep the Red Hood at arms length but Barbara knows Jason wasn't anywhere near Gotham when the clown went missing. Bruce checked. Tim double checked, but she knows because it wasn't like Jason was even trying to hide from any of them.

He was just traveling.

At first it was with the rest of the Outlaws for a bit and on and off after for a while afterwards with the rest of his team joining up at different points along his trip across the country.

He'd spent weeks spent on the road from New York to Pennsylvania before anyone even noticed the Joker was gone, then took a detour down to Atlanta and through Kentucky. The weekend after that was spent traveling between Michigan and Toronto and a surprising sighting in Kansas which was one of the only stops she still didn't understand since he'd have to be traveling all night just to get to that small town he'd been spotted in and Jason didn't seem to be in any hurry.

A part of her had been tempted to call Kara and see if she'd look into the matter for her but cases kept piling up and they got busy. If it wasn't the usual villain of the day causing trouble then it was the power vacuum left behind by the still missing Joker or one the guys getting into trouble. So she left it alone.

Jason didn't seem like he was in any trouble. He'd come back sooner or later. He always came back. Except he didn't. Weeks turned into months, then a full year passed them by as sightings of the Red Hood grew less and less frequent and it was only a preemptive notification she sat up so long ago that reminded her of Jason's absence as she stares down at the computer monitor playing a few seconds of footage displaying a small crowd of people, the Outlaws, some of Young Justice and the Titans along with a few other people who were cheering him on as he slipped a ring on some red haired woman's finger. The context was clear enough but she didn't find out more about the what and why until later that night when Roy sent out an update to the rest of the Titans claiming dibs on being the best man.

The above is just something that I cobbled together after reading a few Jason leaves Gotham fics and the thought of Jazz killing the Joker for (insert reasons) so my mind kind of jumped to Jason living out his best Cinderella moment, chasing after, flirting (along with getting threatened by a pair of overprotective parents) and road tripping with his team while trying to find the woman who lost her bloody baseball bat. After they meet he's just doubling down on everything with the intent of marrying her, Jazz getting her own little road trip, telling Jason where they're going next or even making a game out of if he can find her at the next stop on the Fenton family supernatural hunting/cataloging road trip cause I know they love talking about ghost but the image of Jack and Maddie fighting Bigfoot is amazing.

And the Fentons are happy for the two of them. At least he wasn't another Johnny. They had Tucker check just to be sure while everyone else just kind of assumes the rest of the bat family already knew when it was actually a mix of (we're super busy right now) and (maybe things will be a little peaceful if we give Jason some space) leaving Bruce trying to play catch up and depending on if he's reformed having to outdo Vlad who is already paying for everything.

[jenscx]

[46] DAYLIGHT — comic con dupe

“yena, are you sure this is the correct place?” you ask, eyeing the run down building skeptically. the land surrounding it was almost barren and you would have assumed it to be abandoned if not for the steady stream of people entering.

the girl merely brushes you off and pulls you through the doors, minju and sakura following closely behind. after being checked by security, the doors slide open, and the room is filled with chatter and conversation. your eyes wander past the various booths, set up with merchandise and games alike. at the centre of it all, there was an elaborate stage set up.

“woah,” minju stares in awe, “i thought this was a youtuber event?”

you snap your head backwards, frowning, “youtuber? this is an event for youtubers?”

yena winces but she barely manages to hide it behind the gleeful smile on her face. whipping out her camera, she pushes it into sakura’s hands, who has become well-accustomed as yena’s cameraman.

“hi chat! this is kind of impromptu and i’ve kept it a secret since i want to surprise everyone. currently we are at a convention for youtubers and i’m here with y/n, kkura unnie and minju!” she waves at the camera as viewers start to pile in. you can only groan, knowing that yena had set you up. a convention for youtubers? why did they bring you here? for fun? or did they want you to meet someone?

the smirks plastered across your friends’ faces only prove your hypothesis correct. yet, they didn’t know you were already planning on talking to jimin. the thought of seeing her again made your heart hammer against your chest out of anxiety. there was zero reason for her to keep trying to win you over, especially when you could tell she was fed up. lost in your thoughts, yena

“y/n,” she nudges you, “say something to chat!”

you reluctantly wave while minju puts two thumbs up.

“anyway! we’ll be walking around now,” yena grins, looping her arm through yours so that you couldn’t escape. you can’t believe that somehow, your friends with a combined iq of a hundred, managed to trick you so easily.

as minju and sakura fawn over the merch, you pince yena’s waist. “if i see hyewon, i’m getting the fuck out of here.”

the girl, understandably, stiffens before nodding fervently, “yes ma’am.”

little did you know, jimin was currently fawning over the pokemon merch booth, posing with the plushies while chaewon takes photos for her.

“do you think they’ll let fans in?” yunjin asks nervously, glancing at the crowd outside.

“jimin! don’t do that to charmander!” chaewon shrieks as the influencer opens her mouth to engulf the pokemon in a faux bite. minjeong can only stare wistfully, thinking about the impending demise of jimin when she finally sees you again.

yena had instructed her to bring jimin to the stage, forcing her to conduct an interview, which minjeong could do. she just didn’t know how to pull the older girl away without yunjin or chaewon becoming suspicious. eyeing the nearby booths, minjeong spots a long queue for corndogs.

“hey, can you guys go get us some?” she points at the stall. just as jimin is about to offer to go, minjeong tugs at her sleeve, pouting and putting on her best puppy eyes.

“uhm, girl. let me go?”

“unnie, i need you to stay here with me.”

jimin tilts her head, confused but at minjeong’s insistence, sends yunjin and chaewon off. the moment that they’re alone, minjeong loses her facade and looks around frantically. there’s a few people she recognises, but none of them look eerily similar to her girlfriend. except for a rather prominent black haired figure, currently headed towards her.

“jimin, let’s go over there!” minjeong yanks the older girl away with a yelp.

“wha—”

“hey guys!” she calls out loudly, attracting the attention of the girls. jimin gasps just as the group turns around. minjeong already expects a scolding when they go home but right now, all she can think about is minju’s praise. minjeong grins, pushing jimin slightly to you.

your throat clenches up at the sight of the influencer so close in your proximity. yena’s wide smile only serves as a distinct hint that she was the cause of all this. you try to hide your surprise, already regretting accepting their invitation to come to this convention in the first place. the moment minju suggested the idea, you should have shut it down immediately. not to mention she said minjeong was asking! holy shit. you scowl as jimin reluctantly introduces herself to your friends.

“what are you doing here?” you hiss when minjeong greets everyone. jimin rolls her eyes, a smug smile on her face, “before you say anything, i didn’t know you were coming either. guess it was fate.”

“girl, shut up.”

“where’s your other friends?” yena asks, winking. you groan, feeling stupid to have fallen for such an obvious trap. minjeong points to the approaching duo, arguing about something.

“uhm, since when did y’all get here?” yunjin asks. sakura turns the camera, “say hi to yena’s chat.”

“oh. hi?”

you can already imagine the chat going crazy. this would definitely be on your timeline tomorrow.

“anyway, you guys don’t have to know how we met,” yena loops her arm through yunjin’s with familiarity, despite having met her for the first time. you envy the girl’s confidence as she drags the tallest away, prancing around. you can sense some tension between minju and chaewon that disperses quickly with minjeong’s help. while sakura follows yena closely, you’re left alone with jimin, who frankly speaking, looks too proud.

“so our friends planned this?” she breaks the silence.

you nod, “i guess. i’m gonna beat yena up.”

“aw, why?” jimin pouts. fighting the urge to smack her, you distract yourself by focusing on the charmander plush in her hands, “where’d you get that?”

jimin raises it boastfully, “this is my son. i adopted him five minutes ago.”

eyeing the girl weirdly, you choose to remain silent.

“he can be your son too—”

“oh my god, shut the fuck up.”

“our son is listening! watch your language!” you can’t stop the bewildered laugh from escaping your lips at jimin’s words. her eyes light up with amusement as she holds her stupid orange lizard.

in the midst of your laughter, you fail to notice someone approaching you from behind. footsteps thud against the convention’s floor and jimin tenses up, her grip tightening against the plush.

“y/n? park y/n?”

no way. that voice…

your head whirls just as jimin moves forward, nearly shielding your entire vision with her hair. tensing up, you move back, instinctively hiding behind jimin’s taller figure. you catch a glimpse of the brunette, vlog camera in hand. of course she was still recording content.

“don’t talk to her,” jimin states firmly. you would have laughed for how ridiculous she looked; shooting glares while hugging a silly charmander plushie in her arms.

“it-it’s okay,” you shove jimin’s arm away to reveal the girl that you’ve avoided ever since the breakup.

hyewon frowns, crossing her arms, “can i talk to you privately?”

you don’t know if she’s unaware of jimin’s stance, or she merely chose to ignore the other girl’s presence. surprise overtakes you as jimin nearly lunges at hyewon, sneering, “she’s not going to talk to you. ever.”

“jimin—”

“are you her mother? she can make her own decisions.”

you hate how they’re speaking as if you aren’t in the conversation at all. a poor choice of yours for liking older women, you think. maybe now wasn’t the time to reflect on your love life. you still had two women glaring at each other, almost killing each other with their stares.

“jimin, just wait here, okay? i’ll talk to hyewon unnie.”

jimin’s gaze narrows into slits as she turns her head back, “you call her unnie? you don’t even call me unnie.”

huffing, you shove at her shoulder to walk away with hyewon. dealing with one ex was enough, you didn’t have time or energy to deal with another. not that she was fully considered an ex.

you can hear hyewon’s footsteps slowly following behind. after walking a few metres, you reach a secluded corner, away from any windows with peering fans. you couldn’t risk the chance of someone potentially eavesdropping on your conversation with kang hyewon out of all people.

her sudden appearance had nearly thrown you back into a whirlwind of the past. you hadn’t expected hyewon to be here, but maybe with your recent experiences, you should have anticpated the worst to come.

“why are you here?” you start asking. simple and easy. there wasn’t a need to get into the past.

hyewon sighs sheepishly, “filming for my channel.”

you resist scoffing. of course it was for her channel. what else? you should have seen it coming.

“are you dating karina now?” she asks.

“i don’t think it’s any of your business,” you reply back coolly. hyewon smiles weakly, “she seemed a little defensive back there. she’s still glaring at me now. i’m just curious.”

you can feel jimin’s gaze burning into the back of your head.

“she’s a… friend.”

“i see,” she hums, “how have you been?” you wince at the awkwardness, already dreading such a conversation starter, “i’m fine.”

“yeah? that’s good. especially after…” the words go unsaid. hyewon’s smile fades, “ahem. anyway, do you think we can get coffee later?”

“sorry. i’m already getting coffee with jimin,” you easily answer. never have you been more grateful for the influencer than now. hyewon’s face falls before she nods, “okay.”

you gesture back at jimin, who’s still waiting at the same spot like a kid, “it was nice catching up with you. i have to go now.”

hyewon’s hand reaches out to stop you, “have you moved on?” your eyes flit to her grip, breath hitching as you take in her question.

“have you moved on from me?” she repeats.

your head flicks up in surprise, “why are you asking?”

she shakes her head, “i just wanted to know how you’re feeling now. despite spending so long with you, i can’t tell what you’re thinking but i hope you’re happy now. happier than you were with me.”

you remain mum, allowing hyewon to continue, “i know i hurt you. i’m sorry for how i ended things. it wasn’t right for me to betray you like that. i don’t think you’ll forgive me but i just want you to know that i still care for you, so don’t hesitate to text me. my number hasn’t changed.”

some hidden part of you, stowed away in the furthest corner of your heart, longs for hyewon’s acknowledgement and attention. the young girl who would do anything to have her back. you can’t deny the feeling of liberation that comes rushing in.

“i want to forgive you, but there’s nothing to forgive anymore.” even if you did forgive her, there was nothing left of your relationship. just a distant memory that you held close to your heart.

“i cared for you. i really did but you threw it all away. i’m not upset anymore but i don’t think we should ever meet again.”

hyewon reluctantly nods.

“see you around,” she says with a tone of finality before walking off. your heart stutters in your chest despite the weight being lifted off your shoulders. resounding footsteps reach your ears as jimin scurries up behind you, “what did she say?! did she say something mean?”

you don’t bother turning around.

“she asked if i’m over her,” you reply, somewhat awestruck.

“are— are you?” jimin asks hesitantly.

you can’t believe jimin’s asking such a silly question.

“let’s go now,” you order. you need to talk to her.

masterlist | next

TAGLIST ! @wallfl9wer @seullovesme @twicesserafim @klvarchives @rinapomu @pandafuriosa60 @jisooftme @cwpiqwon @yoontoonwhs @xen248 @r4cjh @dni-unavailable @yukianism @i3lia @ryujinsdimple @httpisaoki @haerinsloverr @masuowo @multiliker @edenzeepy @yeetaberry127 @saysirhc @somedaydream @sixflame438 @drvirgus

[afictionaladventure16]

Safe & Sound (Tim Bradford x Adopted!Teen!Reader)

The Rookie Masterlist

Summary: While Tim and Lucy are on their first date, Y/N and Tamara face some challenges that ends with the realization that Y/N's past has come back to her new life.

Author's Note: I know Tamara technically doesn't find out that Tim and Lucy are dating until later on but uhhh this is fiction so yee. All requests are open!

Warnings: Mentions of fights and stabbing

Word Count: 4,630

You watched from the distance as your dad tried on different dress shirts in his bedroom. You had seen your father go on many first dates… maybe ‘many’ is an exaggeration, but that was beside the point, the point was that you had never seen him this nervous. He looked like a girl trying to find the right dress for the school dance, you couldn’t help but smile. He was in love. 

You pulled out your phone, sending a quick text to Tamara

 He’s a mess, you sent. 

A few seconds later your phone buzzed in your hands, 

So is she lol. 

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, “What’s so funny?” Your dad asked as he gave you a quick glance. 

You shook your head, “you guys have no idea how nervous you both are.” 

He sighed, “Should I call her?” You gave him a nod. Tim gave you a smile, “First, what do you think?” he raised up a dark grey shirt next to a light gray one. 

You rolled your eyes, “Does it even matter?” 

“What if it clashes with her outfit?” He asked. After the two years you had lived with the man, this was the first time you had heard him say that phrase. 

“I think all that matters is that you both are enjoying the date,” you suggested. 

Tim looked at you with a smile on his face. After Isobel, he felt so lost within himself and somehow he found himself becoming a foster father to a young ten-year-old. It was only a year later that he began the adoption process. It was a long one, especially with the history with Isobel, he had waited a year and a half until the adoption was finalized. It was the best day of his life and he knows that there will be other days in his future that will try to complete, but he will always hold that day close to his heart. It was the day he learned how to be himself again, the day he learned that family didn’t always have to be by blood. 

Now you were fourteen, looking forward to your fifteenth birthday coming up soon. A day that Angela was so busy preparing for because she knew as a Latina that you had to have a quinceanera, and Tim always tried his best to help you grow within your culture. It was one of the main reasons why he learned Spanish. 

He let out a sigh as he reached for his phone, “do you-” 

“If you don’t call her right now, I will call her myself, but I will video call her so she can see-” 

“Alright, alright!” Tim chuckled as he dialed Lucy’s number. 

You walked out of the room, sending Tamara another text. 

I’m assuming you’re coming over with pizza? You sent. 

You know me too well. 

Ever since you met Tamara, she has been like an older sister. Maybe it was because the two of you were in the system and bonded over the traumatic shit both went through. Or because you both lived with cops that took you in and, although Chen is technically just her roommate, they were now your family. 

Tim walked out of his room minutes later, “Alright, I am just a phone call away. Don’t forget to let Kojo out and please tell Tamara I said hi. Um- Am I forgetting anything?” He asked as he began patting his pants pockets. 

“Keys and they’re in the key bowl by the door,” you stated as you scrolled through Netflix, Tim walked over to the key bowl, rolling his eyes as he grabbed his keys, “Bold of you to assume Tamara is coming over.” 

“Is she not?” He asked. 

“No, she is,” you smiled. 

“That’s what I thought,” he sighed, “Don’t open the door for anyone but Tamara. You know the drill, make sure it’s her before you even op-” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Can you go already so we can get this whole Lucy and Tim being continuously nervous over with?” 

Tim took in a small breath, he couldn’t help but catch that you had called him by his first name. It had been two years already and you were still calling him Tim. Of course, he didn’t know how to tell you that calling him dad was okay with him and he didn’t want you to feel pressured to do so; but just hearing it would mean everything to him. 

He gave you a small nod, “Call me if anything, alright? And make sure to turn on the alarm when I leave.” 

“Yes, sir,” you watched as he walked out of the house, you waited for the sound of the lock before turning back around to continue your scrolling. 

Twenty minutes later, you heard the doorbell ring, which was then followed by a phone call. 

You quickly answered, “I assume you’re outside,” you said as you got up from the couch. 

“Your assumptions are correct,” Tamara said. You opened the door to let Tamara in. She had been carrying a bag, of what you assumed is junk food, along with a box of pizza. “Alright, so I found this new candy that you just have to try!” 

You locked the door behind Tamara, “Alright, but first I need a slice of pizza because I am starving!” You followed Tamara as she walked into the kitchen to put down the box of pizza. You instantly opened it and grabbed a slice, “I can’t believe I watched Tim go through every single nice shirt in his closet like he didn’t even do that on his first date with Asley!” 

“Oh, you think that’s bad? Lucy’s whole closet is now on her bed,” Tamara commented as she unpacked the bag of junk food. “Do you guys have sodas?” 

“Yeah, in the fridge,” you gestured towards the fridge. Tamara helped herself, as she always does when she comes over, and she came over quite a bit. “Why do you call your dad by your first name?” Tamara blurted out. 

You shrugged, “I dunno, I guess… I guess I just feel like I am not allowed to call him dad.” 

“But he adopted you” 

“Yeah, but… I don’t know. I’ve wanted to, I just feel like I lost the moment to do so since it’s been two years since the adoption.” Tamara opened the box for a slice of pizza, “Has he talked to you about it? Or Lucy?” 

Tamara looked down, “I know Lucy’s mentioned it. Something about he feels like he’s doing something wrong.” 

You sighed, “What do you think?” 

“I’m the last person you want to ask that.” You gave her a pleading look, and she let out a sigh, “Look, if it were me, the timing wouldn’t matter. He gave you a family, a home, he made you feel loved after everything you had been through in life… in a way, he gave you a second chance that not a lot of us get.” 

She was right and you knew that. It had meant a lot coming from Tamara since she never got the opportunity to get this chance. She would argue that she did when Lucy took her in, but in a way it was different. 

“Should I just do it randomly? Like just ‘Good morning, dad,’ just nonchalant about it?” You asked. 

“Something like that,” Tamara smiled, “You’ll know how to do it when you feel ready and I think you know that you are.” 

The two of you ate pizza and watched Game of Thrones for the next hour. At some point, you had gotten up and let Kojo out to the backyard, he had been whining by the door for a while.  Tamara had taken that opportunity to get up to grab some snacks when all the lights went out, you looked over at Tamara. 

“Whoa,” She exclaimed.

“This is fine,” you stated as you got up from the couch. “Tim usually keeps a flashlight in a drawer in the kitchen,” you walked over to the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers. It didn’t take you long to find the flashlight. You shined it at Tamara who had her phone flashlight on.

Tamara sighed as she walked over to the window, “That’s weird.” 

“What?” you walked over to her. You were quick to notice that the houses across the street still had power. 

“Looks like the neighbors next door also have power,” Tamara pointed out. You looked over at the neighbors to your left, she was right, “Did Tim forget to pay something?” 

You scoffed, “No, he’s pretty good at paying the bills on time.” 

The sound of the floorboard creaking caused the two of you to quickly turn your heads, “I didn’t move,” Tamara whispered. 

“Neither did I,” you whispered back. You felt your heart leap into your throat, “Maybe I should call Tim,” you whispered as you took your phone out of your pocket. As soon as you had unlocked it you noticed the no bar signal on the top right corner. “Fuck,” you whispered. Kojo was scratching at the door, whining to get back in. 

“What?” 

You showed her your phone, “I have no signal.” 

“W-what? How?” 

You looked around for something to use as a weapon, “I’ve heard Tim mentioned this before. Some people use jammers in order to block a phone’s signal.” 

“You think someone is-” You held up your finger, Tamara stopped talking. The two of you fell silent, listening to the floorboards creaking increasingly. 

“We need to get out of here,” you whispered. You glanced over at the door, “I’m gonna grab kojo-” 

“No, if Tim were here he’d want you out, Kojo can fend for himself,” Tamara stated. Tamara quietly walked over to the kitchen grabbing a pan that was on the stove. You slowly walked through the living room, you knew Tim had a bat lying around somewhere for emergencies. 

What happened next was a blur. One second you were looking over at Tamara as she inched closer to the front door and the next you were on the ground and you heard yelling. You fought back as the person who was attacking you pulled out a knife. You were trying your best to use the techniques Tim had shown you, but this man was tougher than you had ever imagined. You knew that it wasn’t an excuse, that even if he was tougher and bigger than you, you had to find a way to defend yourself. 

“I got the other one,” you heard another voice yell out. You hadn’t realized there were two of them. 

You looked over at where Tamara was, “Tamara, run!” You yelled out. You could see the hesitation in her, “Go!” 

Tamara felt like running would be the biggest mistake, but she knew there was no way of getting help by staying here. The second man inched closer to her, she swung the pan that she had in her hands, hitting the man in the head, it was enough to stun him so she could get a running start. She ran out of the house and into the neighbor's front yard, running up to the door; she began banging on it, “Help!” 

You, on the other hand, were trying to get out of the man's grip. You sucked in a breath knowing that you had to do something you never wanted to do. You opened your mouth and bit the man's arm as hard as you could, he let out a loud yell and let go of you. 

“You bitch!” he yelled out as he lunged towards you with his knife. 

You lunged away from him, trying to dodge the knife, but he was bigger than you and still quicker than you. You felt a sharp pain in your side, “What the fuck did you do, Rick?!” The other guy asked as he came back inside. “Do you have any idea what he’ll do to us if we bring her in like this?” You reached down to where you felt the pain coming from, feeling something sticky. The more you touched it, the more pain you felt. Your knees buckled and you fell to the ground. 

“Fuck,” the man named Rick, looked at the knife and then at you. “I-I can fix this.” 

“No! Forget it! It’s been compromised! We have to go, the other girl ratted us out!” The man began to make his way to the back door. “Let’s go!” he yelled out again. You lay on the ground, watching as the blurry image of them ran out of the house. 

~~

Tim couldn’t help but look towards the door every other second. Was part of him worried someone from the station would see him? Yes. But also, he had a habit of looking at the door every time someone walked in, especially when he was nervous. 

“Are you worried someone from the station is gonna walk in?” Lucy asked. 

“What?” 

“You are,” Lucy said in disbelief. 

“No, I-” 

“Wow.” 

“What are the odds?” 

Lucy rolled her eyes, “It’s likely.” She cleared her throat, she didn’t want to have this discussion right now. “So, Y/N’s quince is coming up, how is that coming?” 

“Good, good. I um probably going to be in debt for the next year so you can expect a nice Christmas card from us rather than nothing but emptiness inside.” 

Lucy chuckled, “Angela is running you dry with this quince.” 

“That she is. Anything Y/N wants, she gets. I swear she spoils her like she's her own kid.” 

Lucy smiled, “I’ve noticed.” Lucy’s phone began to ring, she took it out, letting out a small chuckle at the sight of the name. “It’s Tamara, the girls are probably trying to check in on us,” she rolled her eyes. “Should I let it go to voicemail?” 

Tim wanted to say yes let it go to voicemail, but there was a voice in the back of his head telling him not to. “Answer it,” he smiled, “Two can play this game,” he teased. 

Lucy placed the phone on speaker, “Before you even ask, yes we are still at the restaurant and no I am not bringing you leftovers, I know you guys had pizza,” Lucy said with a hint of laughter behind her voice. 

“Lucy,” Tamara cried out. 

Lucy and Tim’s facial expressions changed, “Tamara, what’s wrong?” Tim spoke up. 

“It all happened so quickly,” Tamara began. 

“Just take a deep breath, Tamara,” Lucy began, “What happened?” 

Tamara let out a soft sob, “Someone broke in the house. They cut the power and we had no way to call anyone. I-I ran to the neighbors for help, but Y/N was still inside, I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t get to her.” 

Tim felt his chest tightened, suddenly this world no longer felt safe. In all his years working as an officer, he never imagined this to happen. Yes, he was prepared for it, or so he thought he was, but now, this world was more of a menacing place than he had realized. 

Tim wanted to tell Tamara that it was okay, but he couldn’t, because to him, nothing was okay at the moment. He had failed the one promise he had kept to himself the day he took you in and that was to keep you safe. Now the one day he decided to be vulnerable and comfortable, it all came crashing down. 

Tim got up from his seat, “Where are you?” Lucy asked. 

“St. Vincents,” He heard Tamara say as he left a few bills on the table and began walking away. Lucy told Tamara that they’d be there in a few before catching up with Tim. 

“Tim,” Lucy began, you could hear the pain within her voice. “Tim,” Lucy pleaded. Tim quickly turned around as they got outside. “I’m driving,” Lucy stated as the exited the restaurant. 

“No-” 

“No,” Lucy exclaimed as she got in front of Tim, “you’re not in the right mindset to be driving right now.” Tim opened his mouth to argue with her, “I’m driving.” 

Tim closed his mouth and gave her a nod. They got into Lucy’s car and drove off to the hospital. Lucy broke a few laws that day, but Tim probably would’ve broken a hundred just to get there sooner. Tim didn’t wait for the car to be fully parked to hop out, he was already inside the emergency room making his way to the receptionist when Lucy made her way into the hospital. 

“My daughter was just brought in, her name is-” 

“Tim,” Lucy choked out, her eyes had landed on a horrific sight in front of her. 

“Lucy!” Tamara called out, Tim turned around just in time to see Tamara running over to Lucy. He looked around for you, hoping to see you running up to him, but his heart sank deeper every second that passed. He walked over to the girls, his eyes landed on what Lucy was focusing on. 

“Oh God,” he let out a shaky breath, as he watched nurses surrounding work on your wounds. He ran up to you, one hand grabbing yours and the other brushing the hair out of your face. “Y/N, sweetie, it’s me,” Tim began, “I'm here, okay?” he brought your hand up to his lips and placed a small kiss on them. He felt the tears begin to stream down his cheeks. “Is she going to be okay?” 

One of the nurses let out a deep sigh, “The stab wound barely missed one of her aorta’s by an inch, it did knick her one of her lungs causing her to loose a significant amount of blood.” one of the other nurses began to lift the handles on the side. 

“We’ll be needing to take her up to surgery now, to repair the damages,” another nurse said. 

Tim couldn’t find the strength to let go, but he knew he had to. “Tim,” Lucy began, “they need to take her.” She placed a loving hand on his shoulder. 

Tim felt tears begin to well up in his eyes, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, “We’ll get through this okay? You can’t leave me.” 

Lucy felt like the villain as she pulled Tim away from you, but she knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it on his own. 

Tim looked over at Tamara, “What happened?” 

Tamara let out a small sob, “I-I don’t know. One second we were watching Game of Thrones and the next the power goes off.” She took in a deep breath, “We decided it was safer to be outside of the house once we realized we had no signal, she wanted to get Kojo but I told her to just leave him outside and that’s when they attacked her. I should’ve stayed with her,” she looked at Tim with remorseful eyes, “I’m so sorry, she told me to run, but I should’ve stayed.” 

Tim shook his head, “No, you got help, if it weren’t for you, you both would’ve probably been worse off.” 

“Tim,” Lucy called as she spotted Sgt. Grey walks towards them. 

“Sir,” Tim began. 

 “I came as fast as I could, How is she?” he asked. 

Tim sighed, shaking his head, “She’s in surgery, the stab wound hit one of her lungs.” 

Sgt. Grey shook his head, before turning to Tamara, “We’re going to need your statement if you’re up to it, if not we can always wait for tomorrow.” 

“I think after all they’ve been through, I think it’s best if we wait for tomorrow,” Lucy chimed in. 

Tamara gave him a nod, “Tomorrow it is.” Sgt. Grey stated. He looked over at Tim, he noticed he hadn’t said much. His eyes were focused on the double doors where they had just wheeled you through. He walked closer to Tim as Lucy and Tamara walked over to some nearby chairs to sit down. “How are you holding up?” Sgt. Grey asked. 

Tim shook his head, “I wasn’t there.” 

“And you won’t always be there,” Sgt. Grey confirmed. “You can’t always be there, it’s one of the things we have to get used to when being a parent. We have to hope we raise them with enough knowledge so they know what to do in situations like this.” He let out a sigh, “trust me, it isn’t easy.” 

Tim nodded, “I’ve noticed.” 

“You let me know if you need anything,” Sgt. Grey gave Tim a soft smile before walking over to the nurse's station. Tim walked over to Lucy, sitting down beside her. No words were exchanged and somehow he preferred it this way. Lucy held his hand, squeezing it every once in a while as if she were checking in on him and he would squeeze back. 

Tim felt like he had been waiting for days when in reality it had only been an hour. His eyes never left the double doors that were ahead of them, his body would jump every time someone would walk through them. 

Eventually, a man in scrubs walked through them, his eyes scanning the lobby of people waiting to be seen or waiting for a patient. “Family of Y/N Bradford?” He called out. 

Tim quickly got up from his seat, “I’m her father,” he quickly stated as he walked up to the man. “How is she?” 

“Hello, I’m Dr. Avery, I was the lead surgeon. I am happy to say that the surgery was a success,” Tim let out a relieved sigh. “We’ll need to keep her for a few days for observation of course, but she’ll be good to go home after.” 

Tim smiled at the man, “Thank you, when can I see her?” 

“She’s in recovery right now, I can only allow one visitor,” The doctor stated. 

Tim looked at Lucy, “Go, we’ll come back in the morning,” Lucy said. 

“Do you mind stopping by my place and picking up Kojo? I think Y/N would kill me if she knew he stayed the night outside.” 

Lucy let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, we’ll pick him up.” 

“I’ll have you follow me,” the doctor gestured for Tim to follow him. 

Tim followed Dr. Avery to the recovery room, he knew this hospital too well to know where he was going, but he never thought he would have to be here for a reason like this and he never wanted to be in this hospital again unless it was for work. Once he got to the room, the doctor left to finish up some paperwork. 

Tim sat beside the bed, he gently held your hand. You looked so fragile to him as if you were a newborn, he was scared that one wrong move would hurt you. He waited by your bedside throughout the night. The morning sunlight began to peak through the windows, causing him to wake up. He gave you a small glance, sighing once he realized you were still asleep.  

He leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes once again, hoping to get some extra sleep. 

You began to stir, you could feel the pain in your abdomen and you heard beeping. Slowly opening your eyes, beginning to realize that you were now in the hospital, the last thing you remember was watching the two men run out of the house. “Dad?” you called out with panic in your voice. 

Tim’s eyes darted open, “Hey,” he said as he sat up in his chair. He grabbed your hand, he was overjoyed that you were awake, but also overjoyed of the fact that you had just called him dad for the first time. Although he was trying to hide his excitement because he didn’t know how to react to it, he had been waiting for this moment for so long and now it was here but the situation was overshadowing it. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked. 

“Like shit,” you stated. 

You winced as you tried to sit up, “Let’s try not to do that for now, alright? I know you’re uncomfortable, but I can get the nurses in-” 

You waved your hand to stop him, “No, I’m fine.” 

“You want to talk about what happened?” He asked. 

You shrugged, “It all happened so quickly. The lights went out and Tamara noticed that the neighbors had electricity and that’s when we tried to call you, but our phones had no signal.” 

“Looks like they used a jammer,” Tim speculated. 

“That’s what I thought, we decided to leave but I wanted to get Kojo-” 

“Kojo can take care of himself,” he stated. 

“Tamara said you would say that, but someone attacked me as I got into the living room. Tamra was already at the door and she hit the other guy with a pan before running to the neighbors. I used all the techniques you taught me,” you felt tears well up in your eyes, “I tried-” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You fought back and you’re alive. That’s what matters right now,” Tim placed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I remember one more thing,” you began. “When the guy that attacked me stabbed me, the other guy got mad. He said ‘Do you have any idea what he’ll do to us if we bring her in like this?’ in those exact words.” 

Tim felt the panic rush through his body, if his gut was right, he knew what these men were talking about. “Do you think they were planning on taking me?” You asked. 

Tim didn’t want you panicking, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t be safe because someone was looking for you. “I don’t think so,” he began, “But Angela is on the case, you’ll tell her what you told me and we’ll get this straightened out.” You nodded, “Now, how about we talk about the elephant in the room.” 

You looked at him with a confused expression “What elephant?” 

“You called me dad,” he smiled. 

You rolled your eyes, “I can go back to calling you Tim.” 

He chuckled, “No, no, it’s about time you called me dad. I was starting to worry you weren’t going to.” 

“I felt like I lost my chance to do so,” you confessed. 

“Honestly, if you had waited twenty years to call me dad, I would probably be sad that you waited twenty years but, overjoyed that you did,” he smiled.

“Be honest with me,” You began. “There isn’t anyone from my past that’s looking for me right?” You hadn’t spoken about your past in a few years, it was something you wanted to leave behind. “The last thing I need is these fantasmas (ghosts) coming back,” you added. 

Tim sighed, “I don’t know, but you have me there and I can promise that from here on out–” 

You shook your head, “You can promise to keep me safe but let’s face it, you’re not there with me when I’m at school or when you’re at work.” 

“You’re right, I’m not. But I’m a cop. I have my ways and I know you too well.” 

You smiled, “Yeah, I think you do.” 

“Plus, if anyone does kidnap you, they’ll return you in two minutes.” 

Your face turned into shock, “Wh-what?” 

“Trust me, I don’t think they’ll be able to stand the twenty questions they’ll be getting from you or even the karaoke. I give them two minutes before they return you,” you let out a small laugh before you winced in pain. Tim sighed, he knew no matter what that he was going to protect you, and if he failed to do so, he was going to do everything he possibly could do, to get you back. 

[thatnonameuser]

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 6.

So this is strange.

Last time you came here, Alice recognised you and the card soldiers didn't. And now, someone barely mentioned in your childhood storybooks was standing her before you.

Instead of the tiny animated King that the Queen of Hearts could crush underneath her foot should he ever raise his voice, an actual person was cowering and shivering in fear and anxiety, at the thought of his over-controlling wife finding out about you.

This world just kept getting more and more strange....

<Y-you need to l-leave. I-If she loses h-her temper, you'll lose- > He stammers, trying and failing to push you back into the mirror. The glass remains hard, will it be like that till you wake up? Probably.

"I'll lose my head, I get the jist." Why did he notice you? He wasn't mentioned in the original story until the Queen of Hearts was introduced, so why was he here? "I want to leave but......where exactly is here? And please don't tell me some riddle..."

<You're in the Queen's Rose Garden....b-but how did you even get in here? T-The guards sh-should have stopped y-you> You watch him nervously twist his hold on the cape, and if holds it any tighter it might rip in his grip.

"Probably the same way Alice got here-"

His face blanches, turning so white that it rivals the white petals of the roses. <Who....Who's Alice?>

"She's a girl lost in here, she's supposed to be painting the roses with some of the guards, I haven't seen her since-Mmph!" The Red King slaps a palm over your mouth mid sentence, his eyes widening with terror. You can't hear anything, but you can feel the hand over your mouth start to shake violently.

<Th-the girl....I need to get her out before she finds her!> He takes off running into the depths of the rose garden. Well, the dream brought you here for some reason, maybe he is.

"Hey! Wait up!" You chase after him, because what other choice do you have? Whatever the mirror wanted to show you, what you'd seen already clearly wasn't it.

The Red King disappears around a corner, which you follow only to skid to a stop. You arrived at the original rose garden from your first dream, and it's now filled with dozens of card soldiers. You take a few steps back until you're somewhat hidden by the bushes. Maybe it's best to heed the King's warning, especially with who's in it right now.

Wielding a massive rosebush of red and half painted roses, over her head in anger, with the roots of the bush still clinging to some of the dirt it had been planted in, is the Queen of Hearts.

<For painting my roses red, someone will lose his head!> She looks exactly like the statue in the main street, and her colors have been drained to match the greyscale environment around you. The only color, still a deep red, makes up her dress. She reminds you of the tiny animated King of Hearts.

And she's infuriated.

A paint covered Alice is at her feet with the card soldiers from earlier, who cower fearfully.

<Y-Your Majesty, if anyone's to blame, it's him!> <Have mercy, Your Grace. It was the Ace!> <Gah, no, it was the TWO!> <It was the Three, I say!> The card soldiers are quick to turn on each other, desperate to escape the Queen's wrath.

<Enough of this. Off with ALL their HEADS!> The Queen's voice booms with rage, and a part of you thinks she's going to save herself time with a beheading, and just beat them to death with her rose bushes.

The Red King runs in between with the Queen and her future victims, trying to shield them from his angry 'wife', though captor might be more appropriate. <D-Dear please, they were just trying to correct their mistake!> He tries to reason with her, but as you watch her grip tighten around the rose bushes, it's safe to assume he's doing the opposite.

<Winston, are you disobeying me?> The Queen's voice is deathly low, as if threatening the King, or Winston, to choose his next words carefully.

You watch Winston's face morph into one of abject terror. <No! NO! Of course not! I-I would nev- >

The Queen's hand shoots out and grips his ruffled collar pulling him close, but like a movie you can still hear what she says despite it being a quiet hiss of a threat. <Then, I suggest you hold your tongue before you lose it along with your HEAD!> She yells that last part, just terrifies the person she's supposed to call her 'one true love' more.

Winston looks like he's going to pass out from fear, and even from this far away, you can see him trembling and hear his shakey reply, <Y-Yes, dear. I-I'm sorry.>

The Queen smiles, triumphant, pressing a soft peck to the still terrified and trembling Winston's cheek, either ignoring the evident fear on his face or not caring, before her rage comes forth full strength. <NOW OFF WITH ALL THEIR HEADS>

<Ooooooh! Yaaaaay!>The surrounding card soldiers cheer at the death sentence. The Red Queen smiles in glee at the reception to her verdict, while her husband's eyes meet yours.

Terrified. He's terrified. Why is this considered love, this is just abuse.

<Hee hee hee.> The Queen's even laughing, for shit's sake!! How in the hell was this romanticized! In any way!

The cards start to sing, and it's a chilling tune.

<A fitting end. Color, you can't mend.>

<Everyone knows the roses should be red.>

The world starts to fade around you. Are you waking up? But you still don't know what's going on here. Why was the mirror showing you this anyway? 

Was it trying to convince you this world was even worse than it was?! Because it worked.

You open your eyes to your bedroom ceiling. The sunshine from outside tells you it's dawn. "It was just roses. Why didn't anyone try to help Winston? Why didn't anyone else try to stop the Queen?" You mutter.

You sit up and stare at the window, now normal. Not glowing, no ripples. Slipping Grim from your arms, you slip out of the blankets and approach the mirror. Setting your palm on the glass, it doesn't do anything. It doesn't faze through or pull you into another world.

"So......was it all just a dream?" You don't even have an answer to that, and you're just as confused as you were before. Why do you keep dreaming things like this? What was the point of seeing the life that poor Winston lived?

Is.....Is there someone watching? Is there someone watching you and sending you these? As a warning or to help?

But the contents of your dream, minus what Winston was going through, felt similar to reality. Riddle had kicked out Ace for a petty reason. Sure, it was theft, but it wasn't something worth taking someone's magic over. And if your experience from lunch yesterday held any water, then the card soldiers of Heartslabyul were just complicit. Willing to stand aside if it meant keeping their heads, or in this case, their magic.

But since today's the unbirthday party, let's hope your reality doesn't mimic your dream.

You're still lost in thought about your dream as you push through your morning routine. You're no expert on bad omens, but this feels like a bad omen. Like a really bad omen.

To be honest, you didn't have very high hopes for today. Not because you thought Ace was going to supremely fuck it up, but because having high hopes shot you in the foot yesterday and that was a really long and grueling day. And a little because you thought someone was going to fuck things up.

Mornings are hard enough when you know that you have a long day ahead of you. It's even harder when that long day might involve a lost head.

So when Ace finally pulled himself out of bed, or rather off your couch, while Deuce was using your bathroom, you weren't expecting much.

You also weren't expecting him to take you by surprise while you made breakfast.

He also probably wasn't the punishment of having a rubber spatula slapped across his face.

"What the hell, Ace!" You scream, your once clean uniform now covered in pancake batter from when you jumped in surprise. "Don't scare me like that!"

You're just glad you are making pancakes when he sets his hands on your shoulders instead of taking the pan out because that pan would have probably made a permanent indent in his skull.

“Jumpy much, Prefect?” He laughs, massaging the reddening bruise forming on his face. 

You groan, “And to think I bothered to make you breakfast….”

Ace’s eyes brighten at the mention of food. “Well, don’t mind if I-” 

You snatch the plate out of reach and let a teasing smile cross your face, “Well, I guess you can wait till the party to eat then. Since you’re fine with scaring the person feeding you…”

“Fine, fine, I’m sorry ______.” He puts on his most apologetic looking face as he ‘apologizes’, and it’s so melodramatic that it makes you laugh,  “Food, please.”

You hand them over with a laugh, “Just don’t finish them, the Great Grim will be very hangry if he doesn’t get his tower of pancakes in the morning.”

Ace stuffs one into his mouth, before his eyes widen, “D’l’shush.” He says with his mouth full, and swallows before continuing, “Can you cook for me everyday, Prefect?”

You wipe the stray batter from your vest, there goes your last clean shirt. “Will it stop you from stealing your dorm leader’s tarts?”

“You aren’t letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.” You say with a teasing smile on your face, before turning back to breakfast making. A peaceful start to the morning is nice. It’s probably going to get hectic later on, so you’ll enjoy it while it lasts. 

“Hey, uh, Prefect, can I ask you something?” Ace pauses mid-sentence for some reason, “Something important.”

There it is, “Sure, what’s up?” 

“Do you remember what we talked about last night?” You stop to think for a second. You remember Ace and Deuce talking last night but not what it was about. You occasionally dragged into it, but you responded with one word answers. Now you wish you hadn’t. But you were so tired last night.

“N-Not really.” You curse yourself mentally for the stutter, but you feel the peaceful feeling leech away from your body. You don’t like where this is going.

“We talked about you a lot last night. You didn’t seem to notice.” And now you really didn’t like where this was going. “Juice told me about what happened on Main Street after you went to bed.”

You can feel Ace’s stare through your back. Please don’t go down this street. Please. “Y-Yeah about the delinquents….”

“Yeah, we talked about that but I’m talking about what you told him.” Dammit Deuce, you knew that Ace and Deuce are slowly growing into their friendship, but if Deuce was obsessed with you, why the hell was he telling Ace about your private conversations. 

But Deuce is a yandere that doesn’t know about how to be a yandere. Because his mother, seven bless her, had tried to shield him from the influence that probably made her own life hell for a time. And Ace is a yandere who does know about this stuff. 

Who better to ask than your knowledgeable roommate.

“About what?” You can feel your heart speed up. 

“About your home world.” The grate of a chair on the floor tells you that he stood up, followed by footsteps tell you that he is so much closer. “You’re burning the pancakes Prefect.”

“Shit!” You snap out of your stupor, tossing the burnt pan into the nearby sink. Great, this is going splendidly. “W-What about my homeworld?”

You can feel Ace’s breath by your ear, he’s that close. You can feel a hand on your shoulder, and you tense. “About how your world sees darlings and stuff. Do they really punish what we do?” 

He’s suspicious. Fuck, he’s suspicious. You should have asked Deuce to keep it a secret. But that could have made you suspicious to him. Talk about a Catch 22.

“Yeah….it’s,” You turn to face him. Your face is so close to his. It’s that stupid collar that grants you some distance. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, it probably is, is that why you freaked out in class? Because what’s allowed in our world isn’t in your world ____?”

Um…”Yes?”

“But why were you scared?” Okay, you are taking back all of your ‘Ace is an idiot’ comments. He’s actually very perceptive. And to you, that’s a bad thing.

Ace studies you as you reply “I-I thought murder was going a little far..?” 

Ace smiles at that and a sigh of relief bubbles into your throat. “Yeah, I get that,  my dad told me he’d be pissed if I killed someone on campus.” Phew.

“After all, it’s not like you’re hiding something Prefect. I mean you have this charm to you that pulls people to you, it would be terrible if someone thought you were a darling." Do you agree? Why does it feel like this is a trick? You hold your face as calm as possible, given your pulsating heart beat. If this is a test, you are not failing it.

“Yeah, it would be. But it’s not.” You cross your arms in an attempt to exude dominance but like the last time you still feel a little small.

“But if you were, It’s not like I’d do anything to ya, Prefect.” He pulls you in closer in a ‘hug’, which it would be if his collar wasn’t in the way. “We’re friends, aren’t we?” Not really, you trust him as far as you can throw him, which isn’t even possible.

“If Prefect was what?” Deuce pokes his head in the kitchen, Grim is a bubbling mix of hangry in his arms.

“It’s nothing, Juice.” he pulls away from you and you can still feel chills. “Just if Prefect was a darling, we wouldn’t hurt her, right?” You hate how he gives you one of his friendly smirks when he finishes that statement. 

“Oh, yeah we wouldn’t.” Deuce smiles at you. But it doesn’t soothe you. In fact, it makes the underlying terror even worse. “Ow! Grim!” 

Grim frees himself from Deuce’s arms with a well placed bite to his forearm. In his morning grumpiness and anger, he exclaims, “Henchman! You left me!"

You force a smile. "To make you breakfast boss. Eat." You hold out a plate full of food that Grim happily snatches, devouring it with usual gusto. You, on the other hand, have lost your appetite. You’ll just eat at the party, where there’s an audience to whatever happens to you. 

Plus, after what just happened, it’s for the best that Grim keeps full today. The last thing everyone needs is Grim to eat one of the sacred tarts before Riddle does.

But right now, all you want to do is leave. Leave the horrible oppressing air beating down on you to smother you in fear. And you have an excuse to leave,  drying pancake batter on your shirt. Quickly, you shove another plate full into Deuce’s arms. "Help yourself, Deuce. We have a long day ahead of us. I’m gonna go and change my shirt.” The sooner you’re out of here, the calmer you’ll be. 

Deuce gives you an appreciative smile but he looks concerned. “T-Thanks but…Are you okay Prefect?” 

You calmly, not really but you really did try to act calm, shake your head. “Yeah, fine. Just…..” You’re too scared to be alone with them right now, “Don’t want to be late to the unbirthday party. Be right back!” 

As you get a good distance away from the kitchen, you press yourself to the wall. It’s a great thing that the walls are thin. 

“What did you tell her Ace?!” Deuce’s whispering sounds outraged. So he was putting up a front for you.

“Hey, I just asked her whether she was a darling or not, plain and simple. Besides, we both know we wouldn’t hurt her.”

“I don’t think she thinks that…” 

“It’s not like we're going to. Take it from me Juice. First rule of dealing with darlings, don’t make them feel afraid.”

“If she is a darling…” Deuce doesn’t believe it. Thank the seven, he doesn’t believe it. 

“You don’t think she is?”

“No..Not really.”

“It doesn’t matter either way. If she’s not a darling then, we’ll figure something out.” What does that mean? What does figuring something out entail? 

There’s silence for a bit, as if Deuce is thinking about something, “But we’re scaring her…”

“Well, after the unbirthday party we’ll make her feel better. Spend time with her, make her trust us again. Don’t worry about it, Deuce.”

Silence, followed by an, “Alright.” The sound of something heavy hitting your cabinets and the noise resounds through the house. “But if you’re wrong about this and we end up hurting her, you’ll be sent home in pieces–if there’s even enough of you left to send out.”

“Got it. You gotta trust me more on this Juice, y’know since I’m the only one that knows about this stuff.” 

“Fine. But you better not be wrong.” Shit. So they’re both suspicious of you and even worse, they’re working together. At least somewhat. 

But there is some hope. Deuce, above all else, doesn’t want you to be hurt. If you use that against him, then maybe you can use this to your advantage. As a figurative bodyguard, to protect you from harm.

Another bombing knock on the door nearly makes you jump out of their skin. “Helllooo!?” It’s Cater, not the best person to pop up, but beggars cannot choose. 

“I-I’m coming!” You call out as Ace’s and Deuce’s voices hush at the sound of your voice. But you already doubt that you would get any more information. 

As expected Cater has a very bright smile greets you as soon as you open the door, "Good mooorning! Did you enjoy your sleepover? Did you bond over pillow fights and card games?”

“N-Not really, I was really tired. Could barely stay awake.” Cater’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t vocalize whatever he realized. “W-Why are you here so early?”

Cater pushes past you into the foyer, and envelopes you into a hug. “Do I need a reason to see my favorite underclassmen?” 

You squirm in his hold, “No, but-” 

“Oh, it’s you Cater.” Ace, Deuce and Grim all poke their heads out of the kitchen in confusion.

“Hiiii, did you have fun?” 

“Yeah, but-”

Cater interrupts them, “Well, you should get one of the tarts we made yesterday and go apologize to Riddle.” Cater hesitates for a moment and his expression drops into a frown, “And you should probably hurry, because after the trouble yesterday, we’re a little short handed.” Is something wrong because he’s never this serious.

“What does that mean?” “Don’t worry. I’ve totes got it under control. Anyway, off to the party we go!”

“Wait, I haven’t changed-” Whatever you were about to say is cut short by Cater dragging you by your arm all the way to Heartslabyul, with Ace, Deuce and Grim not far behind. So after this shitshow of a morning you’ll be attending an important tea party with a super strict dictator with dried pancake mix on your shirt. Thanks Ace.

Heartslabyul looks as neat as ever, with the rose bushes perfectly trimmed, et cetera, et cetera. 

Ace, massive chestnut tart in hand, is prepared to march inside and spare you the additional migraine. “All right, so I’ll hand over the tart and say I’m sorry, then-”

But no, no that’s not happening.

Because Cater popped out of the rose maze. The same Cater that was still holding your arm at the mirror entrance, a good ten feet away. And y’know what. You might want to consider visiting Sam for some extra-strength headache medicine. 

Cater B waves at Cater A, “Hey, it’s about time I got back! Good to see me!”

Cater A, not bothering to explain his sudden perfect copy, waves back at him. “And me! Looking good as always, me!”

Well at least you could now explain how he gave that flower to you in the rose garden yesterday. Wait if he can clone himself, doesn’t that mean he can send a clone out to follow you around?

“Bwuh?” 

“Th-There’s two Caters?!” 

“Are you guys identical twins?!”

You don’t share your friends’ noise of confusion, it’s already 7 AM and you’re exhausted for the day. 

“Nope. Don’t have any siblings.” The explanation is one you were expecting, it’s his unique magic ‘Split Card’ that allows him to clone himself. Cool. That's just cool. Deuce puts two and two together about their loss yesterday, but once again, you’re already exhausted. 

And more headaches come jumping out of the bushes.

“Welcome home, daaarlings.”

“Good to see you, ____”

You yelp as more appear from nowhere. Just how many of these can he make at once. He could be his own card soldier army if he wanted, for seven’s sake!

“J-S-Y-K, I’m actually the real Cater.” No,we are not playing this game of who’s the real Cater, you’re here to give Riddle this stupid tart and then you’re eating too much of Trey’s desserts. Not this game of human bullshit. 

“Making these duplicates is suuuper exhausting, so I can’t maintain them for long.” Well, that’s a little relief. But Riddle’s left Ace’s collar on for a good day now, is there not a time limit for magic or something? Has Riddle not slept to make sure the collars stay on or something? “Anyway , if we’re late, heads will roll. And since we’re several people short, we’ll need your help.”

“But-” You start but Cater interrupts you. 

“When this is over, I promise I’ll take you straight to Riddle.” Well, there goes head straight to Riddle, this better not bite you in the ass.

Wait. Oh, not the roses again. 

“What, MORE roses?”

“And here we go again!”

You sigh, let’s get this over with already.

And now, red paint now joined the creme-colored mess on your vest and shirt. Today was becoming as big a mess as your shirt. Yay….

But on the brightside, Deuce and Grim managed to get the hang of painting the roses with magic.

On the dark side, painting the roses took so long that it was time for the unbirthday party to start.

So now you were in the extravagantly decorated tea garden still stuck with that stupidly big tart that should have been given to Riddle an hour ago, thanks Cater.  

By now, all the Heartslabyul students had gathered in the garden, and, at least to you,  it’s not very festive for a party. Everyone, decked out in a pretty cool uniform, looks as stiff as a soldier on the battlefield. As if waiting for a bomb to go off.

Some students buried in the crowd have collars just like Ace’s around their necks, the rule breakers collared like dogs with a cone of shame. It’s just barbaric. 

The sound of trumpets make the few slouching stand at attention in utter silence and terror, as one of the students play announcer, a something of Spades. 

“All Hail our Leader, the Red Sovereign Himself….Dorm Leader Riddle!” You instinctively cringe at the title. Who would willingly want to call someone that, and isn’t clearly joking?

The man of the hour walks in with all the nonchalance of someone who definitely didn’t hear what you just did, but the card soldiers do exactly as the ones in your dream did, and forgive the pun, followed suit. 

“We salute you, Dorm Leader Riddle!” Are they not going to introduce Trey? He’s right next to Riddle and the Vice Dorm Leader. But for some reason, they don't. Is this why Trey seems so insecure?

Riddle inspects every nook and cranny of the tea garden as if looking for the tiniest error or mistake, from the table cloths to the flamingo enclosure for what you hope isn’t an actual croquet game with live animals. You watch each of the other dorm students tense in fear as he makes his rounds. 

After too many minutes of silence, Riddle finally makes his judgment, “Hm. The garden roses are red, the tablecloths are white…This seems a proper unbirthday indeed.”

The surrounding dorm students all sag in visible relief. How much of a traditionalist and a perfectionist is this guy?! 

“Is there a dormouse asleep in the teapot,” There’s a what in the what?!, “as there should be?” Just as you make a mental note to not drink the tea, you watch the formerly relaxed card soldier tense up like someone lit a fire under their ass. 

Though they sag again when Trey tells Riddle that they’ve prepared everything to the Queen of Hearts, and Riddle’s expectations. 

Just how much fear has Riddle instilled in the hearts of his fellow dorm mates?

Grim seems less concerned with the terror on the faces of nearly everyone here and is more concerned with their outfits. “Myah! Those are some fancy duds!”

You have to agree they are pretty nice, but they are bigger things to focus on here right now, like how the soldiers seem like they're about to have a stroke with all the stress they’re under.

“These are the Heartslabyul dorm clothes.” Cater explains, “Aren’t they fierce? At the forefront of fashion, and they look great in Magicam.”

“Yeah, but-” There’s a flash of light to your left, and Cater’s in his dorm uniform.

“One of the Queen’s rules mandates formal dress on party days.” Once again cool, but you want to know about- “As a show of kindness from a beloved mentor, I’ll help coordinate your outfits.”

Another light flashes, and you feel the dirty clothes you’re wearing ripple around your body, reforming and changing. 

In place of the messy version of your Ramshackle, is a version of the Heartslabyul uniform fit precisely to your style of dress (masc version/fem version). 

It’s nice, not bad but nice. As long as you get those clothes back, you don’t really have clothes to spare. 

Ace and Deuce are in uniforms that match the rest of the card soldiers, and even Grim’s bow matches the Heartslabyul colors.

“Whoa!”

“Lookin’ sharp!”

“Myah! So cool! Henchman, do I look cool!”

“Yes, you do. You look very cool, Grim.” Grim smiles in your arms, and you might as well complement the other two who call you friend, “You both look fantastic too!”

The two’s faces brighten as they smile at you. “T-Thanks!”

“So do you, Prefect!”

“Now, let’s tear this party up! And don’t forget to give Riddle the tart.”

“Yes! Let’s not delay this anymore! Give him the tart.” You’re about to push Ace in the direction of the tyrannical and not your damn problem dorm leader. When the sound of teacup being hit by a teaspoon rings out. “Oh, c’mon!”

“Before we begin the croquet tournament, let us make a toast. Does everyone have their teacup?” You pick one of the teacups up as politely as possible to keep the dorm leader’s eyes off you. But if you grip it any harder, you’re going to break the china.

“On this most significantly unauspicious of days, I bid all in attendance….a very merry unbirthday!” That tart that got Ace kicked out better be good for all you had to go through. 

The whole garden repeats the same cheer, minus you because you’re going to lose it the longer you stay. 

“Ace, this is your chance!” Cater whispers. 

“Yes, finally. Ace, let’s go.” You practically drag Ace by his arm all the way up to Riddle, careful to prevent that tart from falling to the ground because if something happens to that damn tart you’re going to lose your mind. “Now apologize, like you mean it. Even if you don’t.” 

“Right…Uh, dorm leader, sir…”

“Ah, it’s you. The tart thief. Oh, and _____, I see you’ve been keeping out of trouble.” Ace gives you a confused look.

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later,” you whisper, before turning your attention back to the tyrant, “Yes, I have,” You laugh nervously. “I wanted to make sure that Ace apologized….correctly.”

“Do you, now?” Riddle crosses his arms, awaiting that apology. Don’t screw it up Ace.

“Yeah, so I wanted to apologize for eating that tart. We made you a new tart to replace it.”

“Hmm? And what kind of tart is it?” So far so good. Now just tell him what is before they cut that nice looking cake over there. You’re really hungry now.

“I’m so glad you asked! It’s a chestnut tart, and I swear, we weren’t stingy with the chestnuts.” Okay, no snark, nothing that can be taken out of context, we’re almost through the woods.

Riddle reacts like he’s just been struck. “A CHESTNUT tart?!” Shit. 

“What?!”

“Is…is something wrong?”

Riddle’s eye twitches in anger, “The Queen of Heart’s rule 562: One must never bring a chestnut tart to an unbirthday tea party.” FUCK. 

Riddle looks like he’s going to blow a gasket. “This is an utterly flagrant rule violation! Do you not understand what you’ve done?!” Oh no….” You’ve ruined an otherwise perfect unbirthday!”

“Rule 562..?!” How many fucking rules are there!?

“How many of these rules are there?!”

“There are 810 rules in all,” What the FUCK, “And as dorm leader I can of course recite each and every one of them.” What the hell….

Shit, you need to damage control, “W-Wait, we didn’t know that! And besides, we weren't planning on bringing it to the unbirthday party.”

Riddle, like an asshole, ignores you, “As dorm leader of a dorm established to honor the Queen of Hearts’ rigor, I cannot ignore this. Destroy the offending tart immediately! Then throw these rulebreakers out of the dorm!”

Fuck this place.

[reyrapidsbutgayer]

Ranking All Shadow of the Erdtree Bosses and NPC's by Fuckability.

It's finally time. The sequel to the 2nd worst post I've ever made.

I 100%-ed the DLC and it was fantastic. Time to find out which new characters are the most fuckable.

In this hypothetical all of the bosses can be reasonably communicated with (if possible) and are not actively trying to kill you (Unless killing you makes it sexier).

Repeat bosses not included, duo bosses counted seperate. Bosses that already appeared in the Base game are not counted.

It should also be assumed that all of these bosses have access to their magic/items/resources to benefit them in bed.

Explanation of Grading system:

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

These characters are not sentient enough to communicate consent, or are physically incapable of sex.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Character sucks so badly that they do not deserve to experience pleasure in any shape or form.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

These character are fully capable of sex but would never participate in sex due to lack of interest or overabundance of moral convictions.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

I mean, you COULD have sex with these characters but why would you?

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

These characters are average in bed, nothing crazy or noticeable. Some might end up in this category because they ARE good at sex, but the entire process would be inconvenient or uncomfortable to initiate.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

These characters are good at sex, give or take a few points depending on their mood or situation.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

These characters excel in giving pleasure and would be well worth the time and effort involved.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

These characters would be so good at sex that all other factors are irrelevant. They are serving and we are here for it.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

These are characters that should fall lower in the rankings, but their sexual prowess supersedes their inherent awfulness to a noteworthy degree.

Full list below the read more. Obviously it's not going to be sfw.

Ineligible: (Cannot give consent)

Ralva the Great Red Bear:

Animal

Rugalea the Great Red Bear:

Animal

Ghostflame Dragon:

Undead, probably not capable of sex.

Golden Hippopotamus:

Animal

Swordhand of Night Anna:

She is a hot goth knight, but is a mind controlled puppet.

Unfuckable: (Can give consent, but does not DESERVE sex)

Promised Consort Radahn + Radahn Consort of Miquella:

Radahn is just a mind-controlled corpse, and Miquella is a little bitch, so they are both ineligible. Honestly who tries to become a god but also ditches their inner goth girl? St. Trina deserved better.

Scadutree Avatar:

Theoretically capable of sex, but is made of pure anger and thorns.

Fire Knight Salza:

War criminal, even by Elden Ring terms so you KNOW it's bad.

Jori, Elder Inquisitor:

Creepy torturer and hypocrite, thinks sex is a sin and I plan for him to die sinless.

Uninterested: (Can give consent, does not WANT sex)

Curseblade Labirith:

Too devoted to being a monk to care.

Midra Lord of Frenzied Flame:

He's going through a LOT right now. He just got dumped AND he is being tortured for eternity while also containing a god of madness in his body, just leave the poor man alone.

Blackgaol Knight:

In another life he'd fuck like semi truck, but as of right now he's taken a vow to be a wet blanket alone in a mausoleum.

Not worth it: (Can give consent, is terrible in bed)

Chief Bloodfiend:

Too goopy and covered in diseased blood, but is still up for it if you are.

Putrescent Knight:

On one hand it's melting skeleton made up of thousands of merged souls... but on the other hand if you managed to get the consent and each and every soul I bet you could PROBABLY do something.

Lamenter:

Throw him one pity fuck and then run, he's clingy and a whiner.

Death Knight:

Is mostly just a skeleton, and whatever flesh is still there is probably rotting... but he does have some rizz and cool wings... goth guys can still get it.

Acceptable: (Can give consent, would be fine in bed)

Black Knight Garrew:

A highly trained knight, probably has good stamina but is also a fanatic to a creepy cult.

Black Knight Edredd:

Is also a highly trained knight, probably has good stamina but is also a fanatic to a creepy cult... but he does know crucible incantations... he might have some weird animal stuff you can get him to use in bed.

Rakshasa:

She's covered in blood and is overflowing with bloodlust... but lust and bloodlust are in the same neighborhood if you know what to do.

Divine Beast Dancing Lion:

If those two guys in there aren't rotting corpses... Fucking two guys inside a scary lion costume is an above average Tuesday night.

Good Time: (Can give consent, would be great in bed)

Logur, the Beast Claw:

A nude man covered in blood is running at you on all fours... you are either about to die or have a WILD night.

Ancient Dragon Senessax:

A very average dragon, but all dragons have a baseline fuckability so she's up here.

Jagged Peak Drake:

Drakes are slightly less fuckable than dragons, but if you don't think I'd willing be double teamed by two dragons while Igon watches, you clearly don't know me.

Ancient Dragon-Man:

All the perks of dragon sex but in a much more portable package.

Demi-Human Swordmaster Onze:

Normally Demi-humans are more cute than sexy, but this guy dedicated his life to the blade, you should be helping him make up for lost time.

Count Ymir, Mother of Fingers:

He's a delusional asshole... but he smacks of gender™ in a very submissive and breedable manner. A man who wants to be a mother and has giant fleshy fingers growing out of his body? It will be uncomfortable and deeply personal... but you GOTTA try it at least once, the LGBTQ community is depending on you.

Knock your socks off: (Can give consent, would be amazing in bed)

Red Bear:

All the raw sex appeal of Logur but with 25% more daddy energy.

Moonrithyll, Carian Knight:

Listen we have all been sleeping on Moonrithyll when we should be sleeping WITH her. She is the chamberlain to Rellana (as in head bedroom attendant) which means she is an actual #girlboss and there must be insane wizard lesbian sex behind closed doors. Not only that but she is beloved by the trolls and can fight on equal terms with the carian troll knights, who are no doubt getting sucked and fucked by her nightly. She's just a normal human but she is blowing out the backs of demigods and giants alike. She is struggling to keep her head above water and that water is pussy.

Commander Gaius:

Ok so here me out: He is an asshole, and violent, and a fanatic who serves the very order that discriminates against him... but all you have to do is mention that Radahn is better in bed than him. With this one simple trick he will have you bent over the back of his boar making sure he won't be the only one who can't use their legs after. He is pure rage and he will not stop until he has make you cum more times than Radahn ever has. Trust me, this happened to me, video games are real.

Dancer of Ranah:

Infinite stamina, enough said.

Sex God: (Can give consent, would be the best in bed)

Rellana Twin Moon Knight:

I want you to imagine Rennala, a normal woman who was able to satisfy Radagon/Marika, the sluttiest possible duo in the entire history of the lands between. Now imagine Rennala at full power, no depression, no hanging out in her basement mourning her failed marriage... now imagine Rennala 18% more goth and holding two magic swords. She will fuck you into space and then fuck you back to planet earth. Now imagine being bisexual.

Messmer the Impaler + Base Serpent Messmer:

I have slowly grown to love this sad bishounen anime boy more and more as I learn about his pathetic little life. He seems all mean and firey, but he is a bottom. (and his snakes are not) I wanna make him squeal and then get him therapy and then for good measure make him squel again.

Romina, Saint of the Bud:

A sleeper hit, but she is a mean insect lady with a giant prehensile centipede tail. She is like a xenomorph queen but a pink pastel goth rather than a vampire goth. She will wrap you up in that giant tail of hers and get straight to the egg laying. If you haven't considered it before, then you will now.

Evil Sex God: (Can give consent, is a terrible person but you’d make an exception.)

Metyr, Mother of Fingers:

Look... you WILL die after doing this, but she has a giant stomach full of squirming wet fingers and she is basically a big pile of dicks. Get naked, jump into her gaping stomach and die happy. That's an order from your commanding officer, now do your duty and serve your country.

Bayle the Dread:

I hate this dragon, he is responsible for the steady decline in dragon sex appeal, he hurt my Igon, and I can't explain why but I feel like he is sexist somehow. BUT... a dragon is a dragon. If Igon asks me to double team this guy I legally can't say no.

BONUS: Ranking the new NPC's from worst to best in terms of fuckability:

#13: Fire Knight Queenlign:

Somehow, his haircut is more of a turn-off than the war crimes he committed in the name of a god who doesn't even know he exists, which is not a good sign.

#12: Hornsent Grandam:

Normally I would give GILFs a pass to live their life and fuck as little or as much as they want. But she is the type to slut shame other women and as a feminist I cannot stand idly by.

#11: Hornsent

In another life he'd be a decent lay. He had a wife and a child so he has had sex at least once. In a pinch I can forgive the blind self destructive quest for vengeance, but I draw the line as soiled loincloths. You're an adult Hornsent, so act like it.

#10: Moore

My sweet little pot boy... If it came to sex I'd like to imagine that he is attentive and gentle, with his armor clattering around the whole time because he is too scared to take it off entirely. But he is too sweet and you honestly don't deserve him. He needs to be romanced, swept off his feet by a loyal and supportive partner and let's face it, you aren't at a place in your life where you can be all that he needs.

#9: Thoiller

The pillow princess to end all pillow princesses. He is a simp, he's submissive, he's breedable, he's a sopping wet pathetic little meow meow. Tumblr, THIS is the man you keep saying you want, now get in there and impregnate this man as the prophecies foretold.

#8: St. Trina

She's a plant at this point and probably isn't up for sex. (And a disembodied essence of love from a corrupted demigod) But I KNOW for a fact you kept imbibing her nectar more than you needed to. She just likes to watch as you and Thoiller get high and flop around in the putrescences. Lore says St. Trina was a fully grown woman at some point, and not just a weird little plant person, so in her prime she probably had a weird sleepy plant orgy with her followers.

#7: Redmane Freyja:

On paper she is the tragic butch sword lesbian we need but don't deserve. A prisoner who earned her freedom and rank through brutal gladiatorial combat, a loyal knight to a fallen demigod, and a big buff lady who can step on you. But in practice she still sides with Leda after breaking free of the mind control, and lets Miquella control her lords body like a toy. Come on Freyja, where is your fire? Your rage? Suplex Leda and fuck your way across the lands between as did your forefathers.

#6: Swordhand of Night Jolan:

She's a mean goth girl with a tragic past and a desperate need to be loved. I could fix her.

#5: Sir Ansbach

He easily earned his place in the top 5. He's running from a tragic past, he is trying to be a better person, he has all the sex appeal of Varre' but actually bathes, and he is a GILF. In practice he probably isn't the BEST in bed, but he is rather romancable. He can still get it, since he was a highly trained warrior in the past, but I see myself cuddling him as he somberly adjusts his glasses and stares out the window. Don't get me wrong there is still a LOT of sweaty blood sex but he knows what he is doing and understands what soap is.

#4: Igon

He's a screamer. Broken legs, dirty armor, doesn't matter. The warriors code demands that we look into each other's eyes as we both cum. That is the only honorable way.

#3: Needle Knight Leda

She sucks. She willingly follows a loser wannabe god, and it's not even the mind control, she is just like that™ already. She is so bad at socializing with rational people who are already on her side that she jumps to murder without hesitation. She even killed all the first Needle Knights just cuz of her own paranoia. She should be at the bottom of this list... but a yandere is a yandere. It would be creepy, uncomfortable and she'd be very demanding and probably bite you in a very non-sexy way. But it would still be some of the best sex you'll ever have. You'd regret it just as much as you'd enjoy it, and you'd regret it for the rest of your life.

#2: Dragon Communion Priestess Florissax:

Lovelorn dragon lady who wants me to eat other dragons in a very sensual manner. I am not immune and neither are you.

#1: Dryleaf Dane

After that brush, he is distant. His training is cold and impersonal, he throws himself into his prayers, dedicating every waking moment to meditation. He sought to turn his flesh to iron, so why is the flesh so weak around you?

Hear me out. He's religious, he is dedicated to his cause, he tries to kill you, and he doesn't even say a word to you.

BUT.

Imagine what happens when you finally get him to break.

He is your master, teaching you in the dryleaf arts, the two of you sparring atop a waterfall and bruising your knuckles more and more with each strike. The two of you meditate together, seeking inner peace to further your warriors spirit. He is stoic, his heart closed off to you and his mind focused on his holy mission.

But he is temped, you can see it in his eyes, in the way he watches over you when you are hurt, the soft way his fist unclench after a battle, and the thick layer of sweat you share after sparring. Together you are hardening your bodies to become living weapons, but bodies are not only used for violence, and the two of you cannot ignore the tension that grows with each day, your bodies intertwining during a particularly heated duel, grappling turning slowly to wanton exploration. He comes to his senses right before it crosses the line and you see the fear in his eyes as he pulls away from you. But you wouldn't have stopped him and he knows it from the pleased expression on your face as you lie on your back, defeated.

When it finally happens, you are sparring, leaving nothing behind. You shed your armor to let the movements flow without hindrance and so does he, conflict apparent upon his face. You trade blow after blow, your bodies raw and sore but still you don't let up. The sun is setting and neither of you will relent, sweat coating every inch and the roar of the waterfall drowning out every thought that isn't dedicated to this battle.

He is getting sloppy, his eyes transfixed not on your fists but your face. A poorly placed sweep to your legs leaves him wide open and you go for the maneuver neither of you have attempted since the close encounter that frightened him so.

He struggles, pushing your arms and legs away fruitlessly as his exhaustion drains away his years of practice. Soon you are pinning him to the wet ground on the riverbed, his hair wild and his hat flung far out of arms reach. He looks like a cornered animal in your grasp, eyes bulging and his breathing haggard. You can only look down upon your former master with a gleeful hunger, his body already more familiar to you than your own.

In a moment of understanding you see the hesitation drain from eyes. He knows what he wants, and he is done denying it. You grab his face roughly and kiss him more violently than any punch you have thrown. He returns in kind and all the exhaustion seems to leave his body as he sits up and wraps both arms around you firmly, desperate to make up for lost time, his holy mission only to worship your body and the unbreakable bond you have forged in sweat and blood.

And then you bone.

We have all imagined that exact scenario, haven't we? I have yet to meet a Fromsoft fan who hasn't described that fantasy to me word for word without hesitation. I am just saying what we were all thinking.

(Pictured: a man I would fuck until he renounces his god.)

[yuri-is-online]

no cause the way you have filled my brain with sho brainrot,,,

baby acting like a mf guard dog for his favourite senpai, constantly wanting their attention 😭

LISTEN

I am so glad I waited to answer this for a teeny bit because I thought I was exaggerating at first because like. It was one voiceline right? WRONG. When you level him up he says "thank you senpai" and when I got his SR and slapped him onto my homescreen he does in fact try to get your attention and ask for help from his senpai. He's supposed to be this brash delinquent but he's shockingly respectful of one very specific senior even if he's just a bit sarcastic about it ugh.

Sho feels like he needs an excuse. He can't just ask to hang out with you because then it looks like you're friends, but if he's asking for a favor then you won't have a reason to say no. The Professors all want you to help out the ghouls so he can say just about anything and you'll jump at it, right? Yeah no that's not the real reason. He wants to have you to himself and if he words it like he needs help he can make excuses as to why you two need to be left alone.

Absolutely uses the fact that he can cook to his advantage. I think one of the main reasons Sho started liking the MC so much was because you supported his cooking. He seemed like he expected to be judged for it so when MC was just hungry and said his food was good? The only person he really seems to have cooked for up to this point is Leo (and Bonnie but she's special) so he wants that praise. And to hear you say he could charge money for it? Oh he was riding that high for ages. I feel like he already wanted to open some sort of cafe but really appreciated the support.

And it gives him the excuse to get you to stay around him longer when he asks for your help. Well he's going to cook anyway and you're hungry, so just stick around. He'll make something and pretend to complain about it but he likes feeding you. Well assuming you don't douse his food in hot sauce, though that won't stop him from making you stuff.

I really like the idea of him competing with the Frostheim ghouls idk why. I think MC should get to be good friends with Kaito and Luca and Sho should get to be a brat about it. Vagastrom and Frostheim already don't get along and he never got his fight with Lucas so yeah. He's super intense about how he's way better at protecting MC than they are, especially with Lucas. Part of it is because he feels guilty for going along with Leo's plan and almost getting you killed, he feels like he needs to prove that he's strong enough to not let that happen again.

Speaking of Leo... I sort of get the sense that Sho hides how much he hangs out with the MC from him. In book 3 Leo makes a bet that would see him getting Sho's food truck if he wins it so I sort of feel like if Leo knew Sho liked the MC he'd be insufferable about it. Honor Roll is stealing his best friend (¬､¬) how lame ugh. And he would try to sabotage it because he would find it funny, or even worse try to make Sho's friendship with you the cost of a bet. I could see Sho having nightmares about that.

Book 3. When Towa and MC go missing. I just know in my heart Sho was loosing his goddamn mind. Again I think he feels sort of guilty for almost getting you killed, and now that you aren't with his dorm you just go missing? Unacceptable where are you? How did Jabberwock fuck this up so badly holy shit. I wanna see him admit that he was worried about MC. I wanna know if he got into any arguments with the Frostheim ghouls while the professors forced them to stay behind.

... i kind of want him to argue with Jin. Like specifically Jin. For no reason other than it would be funny to me personally and like... Jin is the one who interrupted his fight with Luca so I just think it would be funny if they had beef.

I need to level his affinity more. I need to see more chats game please ;-; I love him shomuch.

[sjywrites]

༊*·˚ Prada & Versace (dropped)

: ̗̀➛ 𝓢ugar 𝓓addy!𝓛ee 𝓗eeseung x 𝓕!reader. 𝓖enre smut, fluff, age gap, s2l. 𝓢ypnosis where reader is a broke and single college student celebrating her best friends birthday, and at said party she meets someone who might solve more than just one of her problems. 𝓦𝓒 estimated 5-10k. 𝓒𝓦 age gap, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), pet names (good girl, baby, slut in an affectionate way!), mentions of alcohol, both hee and reader smokes, reader is a bit intoxicated but still fully aware of what she’s doing.

𝓝ote this is a sneak-peak of the actual story, this is the first story I’ve ever posted on tumblr so if you see anything that I can improve, please let me know. I want the first story I post to be good enough for me to be motivated to keep writing!

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

Edit: this fic will be dropped, I've lost full motivation for it and it doesn't really fit what I want to write in the future. Sorry.

Flashing lights, loud music and the smell of sweaty bodies. That’s what most clubs look like, and this one was no different.

It was Ryujins 19th birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it with just her closest friends and her girlfriend. That’s why Y/N agreed to it in the first place. She’s not used to social settings and spends most of her time stressing over finals, so being forced into a social setting wasn't making her any less stressed. Her and Ryujin are the complete opposite of each other and she can’t really remember how they became best friends, but somehow they did. And that’s why she’s in this position right now, pressed between strangers in a club that reeked of alcohol, dressed in a skimpy black dress that barely covered her up.

“Hey Y/N, get me another drink will ya’!” Ryujin shouted and laughed, fully intoxicated. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea Ryu” I said, a little worried about her condition “you’ve had a lot already” I tell her, hoping she would just give up “It’s fineee, I’m fineee, trust!” She laughed and grabbed another beer. I tried to stop her but she was too fast. I just gave up and sighed, trying to reason with her when she’s drunk is like trying to argue with a wall “You’re gonna throw up later I’ll tell you that.” I grabbed my lighter and walked outside for a smoke, leaving her to Yeji, her girlfriend. I love Ryujin, but sometimes she can be a handful to look after.

I walk out on the balcony, leaning against the rack and admire the glowing night sky, letting the cold wind run over my body. It’s a relaxing moment until I hear someone approaching and I assume it’s either Ryujin or Yeji, until they lean against the rack beside me. Build too big to be either of them, I look over in their direction. A tall, hot guy with glasses stands there. He lights a cigarette and looks over to me. I forgot how to breathe for a moment, embarrassed, I looked away slightly. When I look back to see if he’s still there, we make eye contact. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat roaming around him. And I can't tell if it’s the embarrassment or the close contact with the man that makes my cheeks heat up, but I’d rather not find out.

I take a look at the man in front of me, scanning him up and down. Dressed in a suit too fine to be worn at a basic club, hair styled in a way that makes it look almost untouched, and his eyes, his eyes were so easy to get lost in. I snap out of it when I realize I’d been staring for a while, a slight smirk on the man's lips as he leans down to my level.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”

✩ ♬ ₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N please let me know if you want me to finish it! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated ♡ (Also someone please teach me how to make my posts aesthetic I've never posted on Tumblr before so I don't know how it works 😔)

[kourabiedes]

I'm not here to grind a political or social axe. I'm just here to tell a short story, about a normal person trying to navigate the American medical establishment. Here is some evidence. You may draw your own conclusions.

So I've had a migraine for a month.

That's not hyperbole, mind. It has been a month since this started. A month of the entire side of my head pulsing with pain, worse whenever I look at light which is always because I do digital art and all that.

Now, I've had migraines all my damn life. I know the drill. I have a preventative medicine that keeps me from having more than one a month or so, and I have a "rescue" medicine meant to stop the ones that do start. I have a nice dark room to rest in when it starts, I have blindfolds, I have ice packs -- I know how to handle these, is the point. So, for about the first two weeks, I did just that. I hit this sucker with everything that worked before and did my best to wait it out. Yes, I delayed getting care, because it was a problem I was already familiar with and assumed was normal for me.

Then, a week ago, it stopped responding to my rescue medication. Entirely stopped. Alarmed, I went to the ER. They hit me with a fairly standard migraine cocktail (so they said anyway -- don't ask me what it was because I honestly do not remember). Killed the pain almost right away and they give me some advice about what to do next and sent me home.

It was back in sixteen hours.

ER again. Same cocktail, same result. I'm freaked out now, so I call my PCP and schedule an appointment. She fits me into her schedule because she's alarmed too. She gives me a shot of Toradol and that helps, but she notices my blood pressure is reading a little elevated for me and we decide to try a blood pressure medication. Okay, cool, I'm down, high blood pressure runs in the family and it can definitely give you migraines if untreated. We start this medicine and she prescribes me a new rescue medication, giving me one pill to try while waiting for insurance to okay the prescription. This rescue medicine works, putting me back in control of the pain. Cool, thinks I, I just have to get through a couple weeks while the blood pressure medicine settles in, and if we're right, the migraine will finally let go.

Today, I discover that insurance would only okay ten pills of this medicine, because I have had the other rescue medication refilled recently for... obvious reasons. Ten pills, and if I want more, I have to wait like forty days or something.

Do you know how many of these pills I have to take a day to keep the migraine at bay? Two.

I have five days of relief -- four, now -- before I go right back to the same ER level pain, unless I am exceedingly lucky with this blood pressure medicine.

The ER did no imaging. I'm not sure if they even could. My PCP put in an order for an MRI when I saw her, which was a week ago, and that request has not yet left the insurance company.

A migraine is not just a headache, like you get after overindulging or staying up too late. A migraine alters your mental state. It can come with physical symptoms beyond head pain -- mine likes to manifest itself with dark spots in my vision, for example, which can ruin a day real fast -- and sometimes they even come with nasty mental symptoms.

So... what part of all that upsets you the most? Because, for me, it's knowing I have about four days before I go right back to screaming misery.

Oh, and I have to note, I am considered fairly lucky because the state covers my ass when Medicare won't. Yet here we are all the same.