#and then things get good & they promise to get help & then they don’t & then things get bad

[st7rnioioss]

omgggg can you please do bestfriend chris guiding inexperienced reader on how to ride for the first time

BSF!CHRIS GUIDING INEXPERIENCED!READER HOW TO RIDE

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, p in v, unprotected sex (nuh uh!!), kissing, mentions of hickeys, lowkey hate this💔

“shh- hey. it’s okay, you’re doing so, so good..” chris mumbled, his hands stuck on your hips while his thumbs traced mindless circles over your soft skin, admiring your pretty form on top of him.

your face was contorted with pleasure, eyebrows knit together and eyes pinched shut while trying to adjust to his size. you were sucking him in, his tip already kissing your cervix as you sat on top of him, your walls fluttering around his thick stretch.

“mhh- chris.. i- i can’t-“ your voice cut through the constant praise and sweet murmurs from chris, your nails digging crescent-shaped moons into his shoulders.

he let a soft groan fall from his lips, running one of his hands up your back in a comforting manner, attempting to soothe your nerves and pain just a little. your pussy was already drooling around him, and all it took was a couple right words and a pair of fingers.

“yes you can, sweetheart.. fuck, such a pretty sight. can you believe i haven’t made you do this earlier, huh?” his question was mostly rhetorically asked, not really expecting an answer from you because of the already fucked out expression plastered on your face. gosh, you haven’t even started yet.

“um.. n-no..?” you shook your head weakly, your eyes batting back open to look down at him, his head thrown back against the headboard of his bed, your response earning a chuckle from him.

“i- i think i’m ready..” your words were mumbled, but chris nodded, clearing his throat as he tightened his grip on your hips.

“i’ll help you, okay? then you’ll try.” you nodded in response, his hands slowly guiding your body to move in a back and forth motion, his eyes flickering to your face to see your reaction, if it made you feel good.

still clawing at his shoulders, your jaw fell slack, letting strings of moans fall from your parted lips. chris was nearly about to cum from just the sight, almost not believing a second of what he was seeing—his best friend since forever, riding him like that.. well, grinding.

“yeah? y’like that?” he chuckled dryly, looking up at you through his lashes from his halfway-shut eyes, nearly leaving marks from his tight grip.

whines fell from your lips as you ground on him, your clit brushing perfectly over his pelvis. chris’s grip on your hips became tighter, gently attempting to lift you, helping you ride him properly this time.

“o-oh.. oh my god-“ you moan, pinching your eyes shut at his tip kissed at your cervix over and over again. “f-feels good..”

chris could tell you were close already from how you basically squeezed around him, your cheeks flushed and lips parted into a perfect o-shape.

“so beautiful.. can’t believe i’m the only one who gets to see you like this,” he smirked up at you, deciding to loosen his grip on you, causing your movements to still. your eyes flutter back open in confusion, his fingers making their way to your waist instead.

“w-what are you doing?” you whined, your hands running down across his chest, eyes glued to his.

“come on. keep going baby, you can do it,” he lightly ran a thumb over your bottom lip that was stuck in a pout, dragging it down just enough to part your lips.

but you couldn’t. at least that’s what you had convinced yourself. “chris.. i can’t, please! it hurts..” you whined and pleaded, but chris just shook his head in return.

“oh, poor thing.. don’t be whiny, just do what i did, yeah? i promise it’ll feel better in a second,” he cooed, his hand cupping your face to lean in, pressing a kiss to your lips while his hand snaked to the back of your head, keeping the kiss simple but firm.

pulling away with a faint smile, you nodded. with your hands still on his chest, you tried moving your hips until you found a somewhat nice pace and motion. pretty moans slipped from your lips that echoed with the lewd squelches from your leaky cunt, eliciting a groan from chris.

“juuust like that.. that’s good-“ he murmured with a strain to his voice, his fingers gripping your waist almost leaving red marks, complimenting the ones he left earlier down your neck and collarbone.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head before batting them shut, eyebrows knitted up in pleasure as you desperately tried your best to keep going, to keep up your face.

but it was getting hard, your thighs aching from the unfamiliar stretch, from both the uncomfortable position and how snug chris was stuffed inside of you.

“chris! g’nna… c-cum..” you babbled between whimpers, letting go of his chest to hold onto his shoulders again, your movements turning sloppy and haphazard.

“g-go ahead.. y’look so adorable, doing just what i’m telling you to,” a choked moan fell from his lips, before taking the plush and swollen lip between his teeth.

when the waves crashed over you, letting loud and careless noises slip from between your lips, he helped you ride out your high, before you both stilled your movements. chris wrapped his arms around you, letting you collapse onto his chest.

“so pretty.. y’think you can keep going for me, angel?” he whispered while playing with strands of your hair, his lips grazing your ear before his hands sneaked back down to your hips.

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: that fucking cheetah print jacket you fucking hottie!!! anyway- not over the fact my fic was in an edit.. im literally sobbinggg its so funny to me. love you freaks!:33

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[fushiguho]

✰ finally domming toji & he’s a brat about it… at first!

cw fem! reader, dom! reader, light bondage, premature orgasm, a little cum feeding :/

“you’re a mean little thing.” toji grouses between little pants of incredulity as you push him in his chest, forcing his bare back against the silken sheets. “c’monnn, this isn’t you. what happened to my sweet girl?”

“jesus, do you ever stop talking?” you bite, throwing a leg over his burly hips, straddling him. “should’ve gagged you.”

he sucks his teeth, scoffing. “doll, i don’t think that’s necessary.”

you huff an agitated breath. “then shut up. you promised to let me have this.”

tonight, your boyfriend has finally, finally given you the chance to call the shots… or try to, rather. however, he’s having a hard time letting go, relinquishing his inborn desire to assume power. it’s rare to see him like this, beneath you. still, he’s grasping at straws, hanging on to any fleeting shred of power that he can muster as you begin to tie his wrists.

nervously, you fumble with the thick piece of rope that you hold in your hands. a sleazy little grin kisses his beautifully scarred lips. toji almost can’t help but to laugh as you attempt to bind his wrists to the wooden headboard. something between a wince of pain and a groan of pleasure leaves him as you pull through the final loop, finishing your double column tie.

he groans. “a little tighter, yeah?” it’s hardly a joke, but he pulls at his restraints roughly, wrists aching.

you pout, dropping your head to the right in feigned concern and you can hear the breath that catches in his throat. toji, far too stubborn to admit, loves you like this, bad. it took a lot to get here—days of begging, bribery, orgasms. he’d only be kidding himself if he said this isn’t turning him into such a… whore. after all, how could he say no to his pretty girl?

something warm and dangerous twitches against your inner thigh. the sweet tune you hum as you trail an idle finger down, down, down his heaving chest makes his hips rut beneath you, a fruitless attempt at finding release. a guttural sound is parting his lips when you take one of his hardening nipples between your thumb and index.

“you know, i could get out if i wanted.” it’s breathless, a wicked grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “you did a good job…” he pauses, gaze flickering up to observe his bounded wrists before tugging at his restraints, “but this won’t hold me, pretty girl.”

you scoot down a bit, revealing the pretty, achy bulge that rests so angrily between his strapping thighs. briefly, his eyes meet yours, the subtle furrow in his brows making your core tighten with need. a slow, teasing finger skims the stubble beneath his waistband. his stomach caves, sinking in his ever growing arousal.

“you know, maybe i should gag you.” you finally reply after some thought. the notion lingers on your conscious as you drop your head, kissing him through his underwear. “you’re insufferable when you’re not in charge.”

toji can’t help the near feral buck of his hips, an ensuing growl dragging from his mouth. he can feel himself losing his fucking mind as you drag a warm palm over his clothed cock. a violent shudder rattles his body, an unintentional gasp pulling his jaw slack.

“baby, it h-hurts… c’mon now, you’re being mean.”

“take your cock out then.” you challenge, backing away slightly to watch as he struggles. “show me you what it is you want.”

scoffing, he rolls his eyes, looking like the grumpiest of bears as he ruts his hips helplessly, desperately attempting to wriggle out of his underwear with his hands tied above his head. you smile, a pretty little giggle leaving your lips. watching toji struggle to find relief makes a warm, electrifying heat pool between your thighs. how the fuck could he ever deny you of this?

“fuuuck! i can’t!” it’s merely a high-pitched whine as he huffs frustrated little breaths through his flaring nostrils. “help me! you tied me t-too tight, i can’t do it.” he’s whimpering now, chest heaving in time with the mindless jerk of his hips. “baby, i need you to take it out for me. p-please okay?”

never. you have never seen him like this and you’re not sure how there was a time that existed before. a raw moan of relief is belting from his lungs when you finally slip a hand down his tightening briefs. your fingers brush over the twitching length of his erection, collecting the syrupy precum that adorns the head of his weeping cock.

with your other hand, you’re tugging his underwear down and his head is deliriously nodding back to rest against his pillow. your fist wraps around the base of his cock, squeeeezing. the messy tip drools, rivulets of pretty, pearlescent arousal drip, drip, dripping down his throbbing shaft.

“god, j-just put it in your mouth. don’t be like that… why are you being liked this, huh?” instinctively he tugs at his bindings, attempting to reach out for you but finds that he can’t.

he is so fucking desperate for it, yet he can hardly stomach the thought that it’s him begging like a slut to feel your tongue on the head of his cock. god and he’s just pitifully unaware of how he’s fully whining—the usual bass of his tone lost in the pathetic quaver of his crackling voice, reaching an octave so high that it shocks even you.

still, you shake your head, a bewitching smile gracing your lips. instead, you’re shifting lower, lolling out your tongue as you peer at him through batting lashes. toji’s breath hitches as you drool down the length of his cock. a longggg string of saliva tethers your bottom lip to his cock head as you start to stroke him from the base.

toji’s mouth gapes, yet nothing of coherence is uttered. he babbles mindlessly, those dark, drunken eyes stupidly following the hand that works at his cock, utterly enthralled by the subtle twist of your wrist as you near the weeping head. he curses to himself, needy hips still attempting to buck underneath your weight.

with your legs on either side of his body, you keep him grounded as you pump up and down his angry shaft. your warm, wet lips are trailing along his tightening abdomen. the poor boy writhes beneath your touch, his body reacting in a way you didn’t know was possible—his spine bows, hips bucking almost carnally as his stomach caves, arousal swirling deeep in his core.

“please.” it’s merely a breath as you nip the soft skin behind the shell his ear, soothingly dragging your tongue along the forming bruise. “will you kiss me at least?”

you peck the corner of his gaped mouth once, pulling away before he can even register your fleeting lips. toji turns his head, chasing your teasing lips and you smile, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock which pulls the filthiest little groan from him.

he pouts, thick brows furrowing slightly. “you’re being mean.”

“oh, you poor babyyy.” his cock jerks against the palm of your hand at your sweet, condescending tone. “maybe i should keep you like this forever, hm? actually think prefer this.”

“mmh—why? you like torturin’ me?”

you nod, bringing a hand up to his pretty, contorting face. he can hardly help the subconscious part of his mouth as you tap your fingers against his bottom lip. like an obedient boy, he’s swallowing around the digits with a satisfactory gurgle of unwitting pleasure. curiously, your fingers creep farther down his throat, the tips brushing the very back of his wet tongue.

saliva drips from the corners of his mouth and he gags once, his sable, lust-ridden eyes welling with thick tears. the smile that mars your face is sick, but it’s pulling a loud moan from the depths of his chest. another helpless sound leaves him when your hand tightens around his weeping cock.

“god, i’m so close.” toji gasps around the digits in his mouth, peering down at his furious cock and your jerking hand. his jaw is falling slack, head dizzily slumping to one side. “f… fuck, it feels so good—your hand feels s’gooood. g-gonna cum, can’t h-help myself. you are just sooo pretty like this, baby.”

“yeah? you gonna cum for me already?” the coy tilt of your head makes his stomach sink. a victorious smile cracks along your face. “hardly touched you.”

toji nods dumbly, breath hitching. his hips stutter pathetically, rocking against the agonizing jerk of your fist. the most beautiful sound leaves him, something like a whimpering gasp, his heaving breaths shuddered and choked. it’s loud and shameless and like nothing you’ve ever heard. several, long ropes of pearly white cum follows, coating the expanse of his chest and abdomen like it was meant to.

it’s perfect. everything about this image is perfect. toji looks so pretty drenched and heaving in his own arousal. you watch as his warm, sticky seed trickles down his perspiring skin. you almost can’t help the curious fingers that are dragging along his pectorals, collecting the mess.

“don’t.” is all he mutters as you creep the cum-soaked digits toward his lips.

you smile sweetly. “open.”

and with a dramatic roll of his eyes, he does. he takes your fingers into his warm mouth with a deep, guttural groan, sucking on them until nothing remains. a triumphant smile graces your lips as you push them further, forcing a proper gag from the depths of his throat.

“okay! okay, you’re doing too much, doll… untie me now.” he grouses, drool pooling against his tongue.

you hum in contemplation, tracing mindless shapes against his skin. “and if i don’t?”

“if you don’t and i get out on my own,” he pauses, lifting his head slightly to take in this beautiful image of you before smiling something sinister. “you’re gonna fucking regret it.”

it’s a threat and you know it is, so why does it make your core tighten with a need you’ve never known? why does it make your mind race at the possibility of punishment? discipline? it’s merely a warning, yet your cunt aches at the thought of him escaping, it makes your body burn with a fire the begs to be doused and it’s toji who must do it, so you challenge him.

“then why don’t you get out and make me regret it.”

[i-like-forcefem]

It’s okay to be scared cutie,

something that helps me deal with it is assume that they feel the same way about me as I do them,

I have an unique perspective running a semi-big blog, and I know that I read every interaction it gets, I won’t respond to everything but I do appreciate everything! A simple hi is already so fun! (And imaging receiving that attention on some smaller blogs? Sounds so so cool!!!)

And I don’t remember ever feeling insulted by getting invites to things I’m not interested in, I always appreciate it!

And I never think less of anyone I accidentally don’t respond to for a bit, either I opened it and forgot to respond or I was simply not in the mood right now

And when I say I appreciate, and love my friends I mean it

And then the least I can do is apply the same standard to them (but that’s really really hard)

But I mean, I’ve spent so so long without any good friends, all because I didn’t start anything! I assumed that if the other person doesn’t take the first step, they don’t want me

And that’s silly and wrong!

Because I want to do stuff with them!!!!

And I’m not doing anything to make it happen!!!!!

It’s hard, it’s terrifying, but it’s worth it to do it scared

Learn to be the person to start things (conversations, meetings, roleplay sessions, anything!), and I promise you you won’t regret it

Goodluck cutie (hugs you)

Can you do something for me cutie?

I know making and maintaining friends is hard

I know you’ve been alone so long it’s started to feel natural

But it’d mean the world to me if you did one little thing

Find someone you like, a blog that looks cool, an artist you’ve followed for ages, a girl that left a funny comment on your post

And start a chat with her! A simple “hi!” Or a question about their interests can be enough!

I know it can be hard, but I promise you, nobody I’ve met dislikes a chat when it arrives!

And if she responds, and if you both enjoyed talking here comes the important step:

Send another message, preferably soon, like the next day

When she responds you two can have another nice chat!

Then start another conversation the next day!

And the next!

And the next!!!

Don’t stop!

Stick with her!

As long as she responds, as long as you two enjoy talking, keep talking!

I can’t express this enough! Keep a diary if you have to! If stress about whether she enjoys talking gets in the way then ask her point blank!

But whatever you do! Don’t stop talking!

Keep sending the first message, ask to watch a movie together! To play that game she mentioned!!!

it’s easy to forget, we’re all busy and tired and scared, but just keep setting that small step each day! Get to know her!

And half a year from now you’ll find yourself with the best friend you’ve ever made!!!

[dearissei]

Despite, despite, despite

Karasu Tabito x Fem!Reader • Word Count: 1.3k

content warnings: idk this is cheesy as hell man i’m gonna be so real, no smut (crazy how i went from writing him + **** to this LMFAO)

Your first meeting with Karasu is something you don’t even remember. A party hosted by a friend of a friend (of a friend, of a friend). While you do remember briefly making eye contact once across the room; you never speak. It’s not until a week later when the man messages you on Instagram with a cheesy pickup line that you truly meet him.

The DMs soon turn into texts which turn into late night calls and FaceTimes over lunch. He’s brash and he’s sweet and a little (a lot) dorky; but you find yourself falling despite.

It’s a bit embarrassing how quickly you find yourself falling into this thing with him. He texts you good morning and good night every day (and bombards you with his every thought throughout). Despite the familiarity, you don’t get to truly meet up in person. Schedules never align quite right, or the other has to cancel for a last minute work meeting (or a late practice in his case). Now that you’ve both finally found days to align after weeks of texting… you can’t help the nerves that claw from deep within your belly.

-> Good morning, beautiful

You smile at the text before opening your phone to respond as you finish getting ready, scolding yourself internally for the way you sway and cheese and giggle at his texts.

<- good morning, karasu

-> We’re still on for today, yeah?

<- unless you’re having second thoughts?

-> Absolutely not, I spent all morning prepping the food

-> So don’t cancel on me (I say begging on my hands and knees)

<- hmm i do love my men submissive

<- i GUESS i’ll still come

-> Kinky 😏

-> Can’t wait to see ur pretty face

<- cheesy…

-> Mean! It’s from the heart 😣

<- you like when i’m mean

-> No comment

-> Rule of the day: don’t bully me

<- no promises

<- i have my own rule: no kissing on the first date

-> Booooooooo

-> Jokes, I understand. Unless you change your mind because I’m so charming and handsome and you beg for it 😏

<- i lied, date canceled

-> Beautiful queen noooo pleaseeeee

<- you’re an idiot. i’ll see you soon <3

You try your absolute best to be nonchalant when there’s a knock at your door. Normally you wouldn’t ever give a first date your address… but between the hour long calls between you, is it truly a first date? You still remembered the way you muted your phone to scream into your pillow when you’d fallen asleep with each other over video chat for the first time. When his deep morning voice greeted you as a sleepy smile crossed his face when he’d seen you still hadn’t ended the call despite the fact that you were already up for the day, toothbrush in hand as you got ready for work.

-> I’m so nervous rn

You laugh at the text, checking the mirror one last time before going to the door.

<- not sure you meant to send that to me lol

-> No, I did. I’m hoping my vulnerability swoons you and makes me desirable

You roll your eyes before opening the door, smiling shyly up at him.

“Hi,” you greet, before your eyes fall to what’s resting in his arms, “what the fuck is that?”

“You look beautiful,” Karasu grins, before holding up what’s in his arms, “it’s our food for today! It’s a picnic, remember?”

You laugh at his words, stepping out of your home before closing the door shut behind you.

“Oh, I remember, but I’m confused as to why it’s in a… laundry basket?”

Karasu smiles shyly, moving the basket to his hip as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Ah well… I wasn’t sure what all you’d want,” he explains, “first I made bentos and then I was like ‘well what if she’s not super hungry’ so I packed smaller things, and then I remembered you saying you wanted to try those snacks you were talking about the other day, so I got them. And then—

You cut him off with a hand over his mouth, smiling brightly up at him.

“You’re ridiculous. But it’s sweet, I appreciate the thought put into it, really.”

Karasu grins at your words, holding his elbow out to you with a dramatic, “My lady,” before he begins his trek to a nearby park.

You don’t understand why you were so nervous before, falling into conversation comes easy with Karasu. He jokes and he tells you cheesy pick up lines, making sure to ask the proper questions; compliments you when you smile. It’s not long until you find yourself setting up your food, laughing again at the ridiculousness of the size of the basket.

“For you,” he says with a smile, handing you a small arrangement of your favorite flowers he had tucked away under the blanket.

He arranges a majority of the food as best he can, claiming proudly he made it all.

“Did you make this price tag, too?” You ask with a cheeky grin, holding up the sandwich he’d given you.

“I can explain!”

“I’m listening.”

He sighs exaggeratedly, throwing his head back.

“Okay I really WAS going to make everything but then I thought ‘what if she gets food poisoning?’ so I decided buying everything was safer.”

You don’t have it in your heart to argue with the flawed logic, so you find yourself thanking him instead.

You talk until the sun starts to go down, food long since ate (and the leftovers packed away nicely back in his basket). You’re almost… sad when he starts to walk you back home. You know he’ll text you when he gets home, probably insist to call you as well like he does most nights but—

“I don’t want today to end,” he sighs sadly.

You laugh at his bluntness, swinging your entwined hands as you walk down the sidewalk.

“I’m serious! I had a lot of fun today.”

You come to a stop when you eventually reach your front door, smiling up at him shyly.

“I had a lot of fun today too, Karasu.”

“Tabito.”

“What?”

“You can call me Tabito.”

Your cheeks hurt from how much smiling you’ve done, even more so when he doesn’t let go of your hand as he sets the basket down on the porch.

“I had a lot of fun today, Tabito,” you grin, “thank you for everything.”

He tucks loose strand of hair behind your ear, thumb brushing over your cheek. You know it’s coming before it even happens, (why do boys make that face before they kiss you) and you laugh when he frowns at the finger you’ve pressed to his lips.

“I don’t kiss on the first date,” you remind him, smiling despite the frown on his.

(You find yourself saying that many times over with him, despite, despite, despite).

“You’re killing me here, baby,” he groans, pressing a kiss to the heel of your palm, moving it to rest at the nape of his neck.

It’s mean, you know (you did promise no bullying, but you figure if you’re going to break your own rule, you can break his too).

Karasu squeezes your hands where they’re still entwined, his nose ghosting yours as you lean closer.

“What about the second date?” He asks, lips brushing yours.

“I guess you’ll just have to find out,” you respond weakly, hands fisting his hair before you press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Text me when you get home safe!” You call behind you as you scamper away, leaving him dazed on the sidewalk as your door closes behind you.

There’s a knock shortly after, and you’re giddy as you open it.

“Yes?”

“I was thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Hush, I was thinking… you wanna go get ice cream?”

You smile cheekily up at him, foot already out the door before he even finishes his question.

“You know, this isn’t a second date. It’s technically only an extension of—

You’re cut off by his lips pressing against yours, big hands grabbing your hips to pull you close. Despite yourself, you find your own wrapped around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry I shouldn’t have—

It’s your turn to cut him off this time.

“Don’t be sorry,” you smile, before pressing your lips to his again.

[bueckersstuff]

REMEMBER

Click here for chapter: 1 & 2

Chapter 3: Forgotten Faces, Remembered Pain

Paige's POV

I grew up here in Minnesota, living what seemed like a perfect life until I left for college in Connecticut three years ago. Good family, solid school, a career I was proud of, the best friends anyone could ask for. I had everything I could have dreamed of. Or at least, I thought I did. But then, a certain someone walked back into my life, and now I realized—time doesn’t heal anything. You just get used to carrying the weight of what hurts for a lot longer than you should.

It all started when I was twelve, discovering my love for basketball. My dad used to bring me to this basketball court just down the street to practice, sometimes for hours. We’d always end up at the local convenience store, grabbing snacks—he’d stock up on chips while I picked out ice cream. I still remember that day. I grabbed my usual chocolate ice cream, lined up to pay, and that’s when I heard it.

"No! What you gave me is a dollar short! I can count!" A girl’s voice, sharp with frustration, cutting through the air. I turned, half expecting some kind of mistake, but she was standing there, arguing with the cashier, insisting on the right change.

I couldn’t help it—my eyes met hers, and she shoved the receipt into my face, her little face demanding validation.

"You know math? Tell me I’m right, and she’s wrong."

I had to laugh. I looked at the cashier, then back at her. "Yeah, you’re right." Though I was laughing, I actually glanced at the receipt and she was, indeed, right.

She flashed that cocky grin of hers, so smug. "See? Told you I’m right."

That was just the beginning.

She started following me around, asking questions, poking into my life, telling me she had no friends, she was bored all the time. I didn’t even know why I let her in, but I did. So, I told her, "If you want to waste time, you can come watch me practice. You live around here, right?" She had mentioned earlier that she lives nearby.

"Yeah, that works," she replied, smirking. "I can waste time and practice my math by counting your scores. That is, if you can score."

That was her way of challenging me.

Five years. Five years we spent inseparable, like we couldn’t exist without each other. And then, the world broke apart.

One day, she came to practice with bloodshot eyes, her face red and blotchy from crying. Before I could even ask, she blurted out, her voice cracking:

"I’m leaving Minnesota. Mom says it’s for work, and we’ll be back sooner than I think."

She started sobbing uncontrollably. "I don’t want to leave. I can’t leave you here alone."

I was speechless. My world was spinning, and I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t wrap my mind around it.

"If that’s what the adults want, there’s nothing we can do about it, right?" I muttered, trying to ease the tension. "We can still talk on video calls, and you’ll be back before you know it."

But what about what I wanted?

"No!" she screamed. "If I leave, you’ll forget about me. You’ll find new friends!"

I could hear the panic in her voice, and it drove a sharp pain into my chest. "I won’t. I promise. It’s just us two, forever and ever."

And then she was gone.

For two years, we kept in touch, but as soon as I moved to Connecticut for college, things started to unravel. The calls grew less frequent, the arguments more intense. Silence followed, suffocating silence. No texts, no calls. Just emptiness.

I thought she was living her best life—at least, that’s what her social media told me. She seemed happy, thriving. But where did that leave me? Did "forever and ever" mean nothing? Was I just another part of her past, fading away?

I moved on, or so I told myself. I threw myself into my studies, my career. But still, there were nights when I found myself searching for her name, staring at her photos, wondering what had happened. Longing. Disappointment. Anger. Then confusion. Why was I still so obsessed? She left me all alone, even when I needed her the most. When I suffered an injury while playing my sport, I thought she’d be there for me, but I was wrong. I admit, I reached out to her, sending messages here and there—but maybe that was just my vulnerability talking. In the end, it didn’t matter. The lowest point of my life wasn’t even worth her time.

And then, there she was. Standing in front of me. But she was... different. Not in a good way. Something about her seemed so out of place. Her whole aura had changed. What happened to her?

It’s been a week since that first encounter, and I’m running errands for Drew. I roll my eyes—he’s got the audacity to ask me to get ice cream for him. As I’m perusing the different flavors, out of the corner of my eye, I see him.

Steve.

The shock is immediate, but the look on his face is worse. He’s more stunned than I am. But why is that? Am I not supposed to see him anymore?

"Paige? Long time no see! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Connecticut?"

My heart skips a beat. He keeps tabs on me?

"I’m on a break. Gonna head back tomorrow though, classes start soon. It’s good to see you again, Steve." I try to sound calm, but it’s hard when my mind is still reeling. "How’s Emma?"

His face contorts, and I see a flicker of pain—something I haven’t seen before, and it sends a sharp pang through me.

"Emma’s gone. Just three months ago."

The words crash into me like a wrecking ball. What? Emma’s dead?

I don’t know what to say. My mouth goes dry. "Oh my god. I’m so sorry. How are you holding up?"

"We’re fine now, I guess. But the last three months have been hell. Losing Emma... and then having my daughter almost..." He trails off, his voice cracking. "I’m just thankful my daughter got lucky."

My stomach drops. "What do you mean?"

"I came here with my daughter. You haven’t seen her yet?" he asks, and the words send a shiver through me.

Oh, I've seen her, but then she disappears again for the rest of the week.

"But maybe even if you did, she won’t remember you," he adds, his voice tinged with sadness.

I freeze. What?

"She’s suffering from a temporary memory loss from the accident, Paige."

She forgot me? She forgot about us?

The ice cream Steve is holding shakes slightly in his hands, and I suddenly realize I’m staring at it. "Is that for her? That’s her favorite."

"Yeah. I’m hoping it’ll help her remember, you know?" Steve’s voice breaks, and it feels like the weight of everything is pressing in on me.

I don’t know why I say it, but it spills out before I can stop myself.

"I want to help. Make her remember."

I must be crazy.

He looks at me, surprised but grateful. "You would? That means a lot to me, Paige."

He pauses for a moment, his eyes a little distant, before continuing. "I’ve been thinking about it for a while now—about sending her back to school. The doctors think getting back into a routine could help her. They said it might spark something, help her remember what she loved." He exhales, his voice wavering slightly. "I’ve been struggling with whether or not it's the right time, but... I think it might be the only way."

I barely hear him as my mind races. "She can attend to mine. Transfer her. She can join the swimming team. She still swims, right?"

Or maybe I'm just out of my fucking mind.

"Yes!" Steve’s face lights up. "That’s actually a great idea. I’ll start processing her papers next week."

She needs to remember. Because when she finally looks me in the eye and says sorry, it won’t be some empty apology. It’ll be real.

She’ll remember me. She has to.

Chapter 4 setting's gonna be at Uconn. More interactions and stuff!! <3

Taglist: @authentic-girl03 @unadulteratedcyclepaper @0phantom0 @sjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjj

[aquamarixx]

breaking point

faking an injury to escape the burn out, Hiori Yo meets you at the brink of his breaking point and discovers what’s he’s missing; the courage to breathe, to rest, and to finally choose himself for once.

⁺₊ ❆ TURNING POINT 2025 ENTRY ❆ ₊⁺ pairing hiori yo x reader word count 2.3k words tags post timeskip, aged up, hurt/comfort, good ending, hiori just tired of the endless grind navigation

Hiori Yo is exhausted.

Ever since getting out of Blue Lock and being drafted into Bastard München, football has consumed his entire life. The intense matches, relentless training, and constant scrutiny have left him drained, with no time to breathe or process the pressure he feels both on and off the field. 

Every move on the field feels like walking a tightrope, with countless eyes ready to tear him apart the moment he stumbles. His teammates are laser-focused on victory, their intensity leaving no room for camaraderie. And then there are his parents.

His parents, teetering on the brink of divorce,who continue to see him as their last hope to fix their fractured relationship. But Hiori knows better.

No amount of football glory will solve their problems.

He would rather have them get divorced than let their dissatisfaction and resentment towards each other fester any further. Because at this point, there’s nothing to save.

No one’s winning. Not his mom, not his dad, and especially not him. 

So when a nasty collision with Barou during an exhibition match against Italy Ubers results into a mild sprain, Hiori takes advantage of it. He pretends his injuries are worse than they are, hoping to escape the constant grind of football and take a much-needed break. 

The league assigns him to you, a young physical therapist with a promising reputation.

When he first meets you, the first thing he notices are your eyes. Your eyes—so bright and full of life—are a stark contrast to his own, dulled by burnout.They’re so full of life. 

Even your handshake catches him off guard, firm and enthusiastic, as if you genuinely care about this moment. You shake his hands, a little too eager, a little too tighter than he expected.

Aah. Must be nice, Hiori thinks, to have that kind of passion and not feel like you're being crushed by it.

“It’s a Grade 2 sprain,” you explain during your first consultation. “No broken bones or torn tissues, just mild swelling. With proper care, you’ll be back on the field in three to six weeks.” You pause, glancing at your clipboard. “I do recommend physical therapy to ensure everything heals correctly, and your team manager requested it as well.”

Three to six weeks. It’s isn’t bad. But if he plays his cards right, maybe he can stretch it to ten or even twelve weeks. Anything to keep himself off the field a little longer.

At first, Hiori half-heartedly goes through the motions. But as the weeks pass, you notice how quickly he’s recovering. By the third week, it’s clear he could be back to full strength in another three.

That’s when Hiori ups his game.

“I’m still feeling some pain,” he tells you during a session, wincing for effect as he tests his ankle.

Alarmed, you immediately run additional tests. The results come back clear—no abnormalities, no lingering issues. But Hiori insists the pain is real, suggesting he just needs more rest at home (and by “rest,” he means gaming marathons on his PC).

Your concern deepens, not wanting to risk it, especially since Hiori isn’t just any athlete. “Skipping therapy isn’t an option,” you warn, your tone firm but not unkind. “If you don’t stick to the regimen, I’ll have to notify your team.”

Hiori stiffens. His plan to buy more time is starting to backfire. Begrudgingly, he agrees to continue.

As the weeks go by, Hiori does find himself looking forward to your sessions. You’re different from the cold, mechanical efficiency he’s used to in his professional life. You’re kind and thoughtful, and he notices how your eyes light up when you’re helping others.

Even when you’re clearly exhausted, you go out of your way to cheer up the kids waiting in the clinic, slipping them candy when no one’s watching. Sometimes, the older patients would strike up conversations, and though you’d apologize to him afterward for the delay, he never really minded.

There’s something appealing about your openness, your passion, the way you seem to pour your whole heart into every detail of your work. He envies it. It’s the same kind of fire he used to have for football, the fire that now feels like a dying ember.

And as he continues to enjoy his sessions with you, the guilt starts to pile up. He sees the extra hours you put in, combing through his test results, double-checking your notes. One night, he overhears you fretting aloud about the possibility of ruining someone’s career or being seen as incompetent.

“What if I’m wrong?” you whisper but it can’t hide the fear in your voice. “What if I’m missing something and it ruins his career?”

He recognizes the weight of your anxiety—the same kind of crushing pressure he feels from his parents’ expectations. For the first time, he sees her not just as an obstacle to his rest, but as someone who understands his struggles.

It eats him, seeing someone who’s only trying to help him be that affected by his lies. 

During a particularly long session, you’re clearly worn down. You arrived later than usual, in a disheveled state. Your hair is a mess, a couple of strands escaping your low bun. Bags grow darker under your eyes and there’s sluggishness in your movements. You skim through your notes quickly, your voice faltering under the weight of your own exhaustion.

“So, Hiori, it’s possible this could be an occult fracture or stress fractures,” you say, speaking faster than usual for someone who’s tired. “These can happen because of repetitive injuries or even normal stress on weakened bones. Normally, the body can repair these fractures with time, but without rest, they can worsen, potentially leading to larger fractures.”

Normally, the bone is able to repair these small fractures. But that needs time. When the activity continues or happens again before the repairs are complete, these small fractures can add up to form a stress fracture. In extreme cases, ongoing activities can cause sudden larger fractures.” You were talking a bit faster, skimming through your notes. The guilt begins to seep in. 

You pause, rubbing your temples. “I’ve never handled a case like this before, so I’ve been consulting with other colleagues and rechecking everything. Your team manager agreed to extend your therapy for another four weeks—just to be safe.”

“I haven’t had a case like this before. So it might take a couple of more weeks for us to address the issue. I hope you didn’t mind that I took the liberty of talking to your team manager to extend your sessions for at least 4 more weeks.”

Four more weeks. He should be thrilled, but all he sees is the strain in your posture and the doubt clouding your voice. He can’t take it anymore.

“I’ve been lying,” he blurts out, the words sharp and trembling as if they’ve been clawing their way out for weeks.

You pause mid-note, your pen hovering over the paper. Slowly, you lift your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“I… I exaggerated my injury,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “I needed an excuse—a way out. From football, my parents, everything.”

Your gaze remains steady, unreadable, as his words hang in the air. Then, you blink, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. “You… lied?”

He looks down, shame written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“You lied?” you repeat, the weight of his confession beginning to sink in. Your voice is calm, but there’s a quiet tremor beneath it, a raw edge he doesn’t miss. “Hiori, do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Do you have any idea?” you interrupt, your tone still measured, though cracks of exhaustion begin to show. “I’ve been losing sleep over your case. Nights spent second-guessing every test, wondering if I missed something crucial. I’ve gone over your file more times than I can count because I thought I was failing you.”

He flinches, guilt carving deep lines into his face. “I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” you say, the weight of your words pressing down on him. Your voice isn’t loud, but it’s tired, worn thin by the toll of his deception. “You didn’t think about how this would affect me. About the stress, the doubt, the hours I’ve poured into trying to help you.”

“I know,” he murmurs, his voice cracking. “I know I messed up. But I didn’t do it to hurt you. I just… I couldn’t breathe anymore.” Now, it’s his turn to break. 

And you notice it. How tense he is, as if there’s so much he’s been carrying on his back. Your shoulders slump slightly, the anger ebbing into something more fragile. But you don’t respond, letting the silence stretch until he speaks again.

“My parents… They’ve always been fighting, ever since I can remember. And I’m stuck in the middle, trying to hold everything together. Football used to be my escape, but now it’s just another thing they argue about. Another way for them to push me. I didn’t know how to tell anyone.”

The room grows heavy with his confession. You glance at him, and for the first time, his usual calm exterior has shattered, revealing a young man who’s barely holding himself together.

Taking a deep breath, you place your notes down and fold your hands. “Hiori,” you say softly, though there’s still an edge of weariness in your tone. “Running from your problems doesn’t make them go away. And pulling other people into your escape… it’s not fair. To me, or to yourself.”

He nods, his eyes downcast. You hesitate for a moment before continuing.

“And you can’t just admire passion from afar, Hiori. You have to fight for it. Even when it feels like the world is against you.”

His eyes meet yours, wide and glassy. “I know,” he whispers. “I just didn’t know what else to do. But… meeting you, seeing how much you care—about your work, about your patients—it’s made me realize something.”

You raise an eyebrow, but stay silent, letting him continue.

“You don’t just care because it’s your job,” he says, his voice steadying. “You care because it’s who you are. And seeing that… it made me realize how far I’ve drifted from what I used to love. From who I want to be.”

His words catch you off guard, striking a chord you didn’t expect. You look at him for a long moment, your exhaustion giving way to something softer. Your expression softens as his words sink in. 

“I want to try. Not just for football, but for myself. For everything I’ve been running from.” He nods, his expression resolute. 

For the first time since his confession, a faint smile tugs at your lips. “Good. Because the only way out of this is through it.”

“Also… You know I should report this, right?” you say, half-joking, as Hiori stays quiet, his expression flickering with surprise at the sudden shift in tone.

“But I won’t,” you add, your grin softening. “Doctor-patient confidentiality and all.”

You laugh, and after a beat, he laughs too—a sound lighter than anything you’ve heard from him before.

In that moment, something shifts. The air feels lighter, the tension unraveling into something resembling hope. He came here for a way to heal his body, but what he found was a way to start healing his soul.

And you, despite your exhaustion, can’t help but feel a flicker of pride—because maybe, just maybe, you’ve helped him take the first step toward being whole again.

From that day on, Hiori approaches therapy differently. The façade he had built around himself starts to crack, allowing glimpses of the person he truly is. He stops faking symptoms and begins putting in genuine effort, not just for his body but for his mind. Each session becomes more than just a routine of stretches and exercises—it’s a space where he starts to confront the feelings he’s buried for so long.

When the two of you are alone, you talk about things outside football, like good old friends. He talks about the pressure he’s been under, the weight of expectations from everyone around him, and the way football, once his passion, had turned into a source of dread. You listen, guiding him where you can, but mostly letting him navigate his own thoughts. 

It’s a strange dynamic, but somehow, it feels natural. It feels right.

Outside of therapy, Hiori begins to address the chaos at home. For the first time, he sits his parents down and tells them how their arguments have affected him, how he’s been caught in the crossfire of their unhappiness. It’s not easy, and there are setbacks, but he’s no longer running from the conversations that once felt impossible. 

By the time his final session arrives, he’s changed a bit. He’s still Hiori—the same sharp-witted, slightly mischievous person you met weeks ago—but there’s a newfound lightness in him. 

As the session wraps up, he lingers by the door, his usual confidence replaced by something a little more hesitant. Finally, he turns to you, his hands shoved into his pockets. “I know this is probably the worst time, but… would you maybe want to grab coffee sometime?

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. 

“You’re the first person I’ve felt like I could really talk to in… forever.” He confesses. And you see it—the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability he’s no longer afraid to show. It’s not the charm of an athlete used to getting his way; it’s the genuine request of someone who’s found a lifeline and wants to hold onto it, if only for a little while longer.

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Okay,” you say finally, a smile breaking through the fatigue. “But only if you promise to stop faking injuries.”

Hiori laughs—a real, unburdened laugh that seems to echo in the room, filling the space with warmth. “Deal,” he says, his grin wide and boyish.

amari's notes: this went on a bit longer than i wanted. this has been a longtime headcanon. i think he'll try to get out of playing football for a while to rest and rot in his bedroom to play games. anyway, I’d love to hear your thoughts, so feel free to leave a reply or drop an ask or even a request! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

taglist: @inu1gf

[lolitastories]

Blue Eyes

Rafe Cameron

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Read alone or consider it as Part 4.

“Are you sure we can’t just skip town and settle in- I don’t know, Canada sounds fun!” I woke up early in the morning to head back home hoping Rafe would stay in his house with our daughter while I dealt with my family. But Rafe being Rafe convinced me it was better to deal with it together, so now I am cleaning my house while he plays with the baby on the couch not listening to my pleas. “She can learn how to ice skate, maybe hockey?” I scream from the kitchen. “I heard healthcare is amazing-”

“Breathe.” I turn around setting the rag on the counter. I look up and see Rafe on the kitchen doorway with our daughter in his arms. I pat my hands dry on my pants as I walk closer to them.

“Japan?” He grins, shaking his head. I groan as I place my head against his chest. “This is going to be unbearable.” Rafe moves his fingers under my chin and lifts it.

“Maybe it won’t be,” I raise my brow, he couldn’t even believe in his own words. “As long as they don’t make any rude remarks, we will be fine, civilized.” He comes down and places a kiss on my forehead.

“If It hadn’t been for a moment of weakness, I wouldn’t have been dealing with this.” I grab Rafe's hand and pull him towards the couch. “I just had to visit my grandmother,” I hear Rafe laugh as he sits down and places our girl in between us.

“By the stories, what else did you expect from a mother-in-law who deep down never liked her son’s wife?” My father was her first born and definitely her favorite.

“Maybe respect her granddaughter's wish of wanting to wait before I tell the rest of the family.” I look over to find Rafe just grinning. “That grin won’t last long,” I stood up and moved to take a spot on his lap. One arm around his shoulder while the other caresses his face. “I can handle them if things go south. I don’t want to put you in a difficult situation.” I look down, chuckling as I watch our daughter grab a fist full of my pants as she tries to crawl between us. “I know your temper and I want you to promise you won’t let them get the best of you,” I look back at him, who is staring blankly back. “Please?”

“Okay” He helps our daughter stand on his lap and her small arm waves around to get a hold of Rafe. We laugh seeing her almost hit me.

“She has to learn how to share,” It's like she understood. Her small head turns over to look at me. I placed my face in the crook of Rafe's neck but soon after she was back to hitting me. “He was mine first” I playfully joke which she smiles at. Our moment is cut short when we hear a knock on the door.  I took a deep breath before opening the door which revealed my parents, grandmother and sister. “Hey”

“Hi honey, how are you?” My grandmother passes by without even looking at me. “There she is!” I hear her excitement.

“Let us have a good reunion, okay?” I move aside a bit more and stay quiet due to my mother's words. My father only nods his head and walks in close behind my mother.

“Ready?” I look up and shake my head. “Too bad.” I know my sister was trying to lighten up my mood, but these nerves can’t be knocked out until they are out of here. I walk to stand beside Rafe who was already being stared down by my parents.

“Mom, dad, grandma, this is Rafe” My grandmother looks up and smiles before going back to babbling at my daughter.

“Nice to meet you” Rafe goes to shake their hand, but they don’t even give him that. I roll my eyes and turn towards my sister.

“This is my sister.” I point over and she smiles, coming forward to shake his hand.

“Nice to meet my sister's first boyfriend,” I give her a stare, but she doesn’t take the hint. “She wasn’t much for dating so imagine us more than surprised when we heard she had a kid with someone.” She was the only one laughing.

“Yeah, imagine us surprised.” My mother coldly said. “We never interfere with her choices because she has always been our responsible one but not even letting us be part of such an important part of her life well, we didn’t expect that.”

“What made you think that was a good decision?” My father finally looked straight into my eyes. “Wasn’t he the reason you came home for those weeks? Now you have a child with him?”

“No. My reasons for coming home were about me, I needed time to breathe, and I thought going home would clear things up.”

“Doesn’t seem like it cleared up anything in you. You must have come home because you told him you were pregnant, and he didn’t want anything to do with you or your child.” He knocked the wind right out of me. “Then you moved back, and he probably didn’t even help you through your pregnancy and only shows up once a week” His tone got higher as he spits out his words.

“I am not going to argue about what he did or didn’t do because you don’t deserve or have the right to that part of my life. I have a child with this man, and he will keep on being part of my child's life because he wants that too.” My hands felt numb.

“What will happen when he decides to leave huh? How would you take care of your child alone as a single mother? You’re tough my girl, but you fall down so easily.” My jaw stiffens as I watch my mother agree with my father's words.

“Well, that is part of life, isn’t it?” I look directly at my mother. “You know more about fighting for your kids as a single mother than I will, but I can assure you I will not find a man of convenience. I can handle that, you two on the other hand have no right to give me advice on that topic.” My mothers' eyes look down before taking her stance again. I remember the day I was hiding in the living room. She was talking on the phone, and she was talking about not loving my father. She married him because he had the means to take care of her and her children she brought into the marriage. That is when my view of them together forever changed, he wasn’t my real father, but I loved him, and she didn’t love him. “Now another part of my life I don’t need advice on is you being a part of her life,” I pointed over towards my daughter who was getting fussy in my grandmother's arms. “I know you aren’t here for me so if you want to get to know her, I will accept it as long as you know your place.” I feel Rafe's hand entwined with mine.

“You think-”

“Dad.” My sister walks forward. I could see the anger in his eyes. The way his hands are fisted shut. My head turns when I hear a cry from my girl. I walk over and take her from my grandmother's arms. I didn't hear what my sister was telling them, but they were quiet when I walked over to Rafe.

“We need time.” My mother finally speaks. She picks up her purse and starts heading towards the door with the rest. “We will let you know when we are available to visit.” My grandmother kindly hugs me before she walks out along with my sister.

“Mom?” I stand in the doorway watching as she steps down the stairs following my father towards the car. “My life will continue with or without you and so will hers. I will not go out of my way to please you anymore; I have more important things in my life now.” Her cold stare and demeanor don’t change. She walks off taking another quick glance back at me as she gets into the car. I shut the door and hear in the background how the tires drive off in the gravel. My mind was interrupted when I felt two hands grip my face and pull me in. Rafe places multiple kisses on my lips, then my cheek until he stops and stares at me. I didn’t notice until a laugh came out of my mouth, but I had a huge smile on my face.

“I am so proud of you” He wraps his arms around my waist making sure not to squish our daughter. “Are you okay?” He says lovingly. I nod my head letting my shoulder fall from all the tension.

“Yeah.” It felt like forever with them here but now that is it all over, I feel so relieved like it never happened. “We need to make this a happy day again.” Rafe raises his eyebrow questioning me. “Let's go out!” I pull apart with him and start getting the diaper bag ready.

“How about the aquarium?” I pause thinking back to the last time I visited one. “You love it, and it will be nice to share that with her since she is becoming obsessed with that otter” I laugh putting that exact otter in her bag.

“You don’t want to go thrifting?” I tease handing him the bag.

“No.” He instantly responds. “I will follow you through hell, but I don’t think I can do another antique store or thrift store for another month.” I roll my eyes.

“You are exaggerating,” I hand over our daughter so I can put on my shoes. “But I guess I will just have to find me another man who doesn’t mind”

“You do that, and he won’t last long breathing.” I ignore his comment and stand up to take the diaper bag from his hand.

“Whatever macho man. Let's go because we have enough time to get back before her nap.” I rush over to the door and see him slowly walking. “I thought we would repeat our prior activity while she naps but it's fine-” I hold back a laugh when I see him speed run past the door.

“You should have started with that!” I shake my head as I lock the front door and rush down to the stairs towards his truck. “Don’t you dare touch that door!” My hands weren't even raised I thought in my head. I hear the gravel move under his feet as he comes around the truck. I go to turn around, but his hand meets my hip and pushes me against the truck gently. His other hand moves to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“I know this feels too normal to go back to where we used to be, but We know that we can’t go back to the way we were before.” He moves his body closer. “I want to be the man you need not just because you are the mother of my child but because you deserve someone who treats you right.” My body shivers to see his eyes full of such devotion. “We will go slow when it comes to us because this is forever. I will take my time for the sake of us.” I wasn’t the one to cry but Rafe's always brought it out of me.

“I love you” I say in a shaky voice. A smile appears on his face, and he moves forward to place a simple kiss on my lips.

“I love you too” I didn’t meet Rafe in his crazy teen years, but I have heard stories about how unhinged he was back then. I wonder how many people would be shocked to see him now. A devoted father who will do anything for his little girl, and a man who looks so lovingly at me. So sappy, I smiled to myself. Then again why did I care? This was the Rafe I knew and loved, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

[spikeface]

Theo & der Soldat

Still thinking about the fact that Theo instantly recognizes Douglas, despite the fact that der Soldat looked very different when he was in a tube of magical goo. 

Even stranger, Douglas immediately recognizes Theo.

When the two of them finally have a moment alone together, they speak, in my humble opinion, like they’ve spoken before (6x07):

THEO: Have you been here the whole time?

DOUGLAS: How could I stay away?

THEO: Maybe you should tell them who you really are... Hauptmann.

So when did they talk?

I like to think that at some point, years before Theo comes back to Beacon Hills, the Doctors decide that der Soldat might be more useful in a different way. They get him out of the tube, make sure he can’t go anywhere, and then proceed with their experiments.

Which leaves a let’s-say-12-year-old Theo to babysit a furious Nazi German alpha werelion from the 1940s. 

It’s a mess at first. Theo’s used to strangers in the lab, but it’s usually kids, and they’re always easy to quiet. The stranger is loud. Theo has no idea what he’s saying. He yells and yells until Theo breaks out the kanima venom, the same way the Doctors used to do with him. That finally shuts the stranger up.

Eventually, the stranger starts to ask about things. Slowly, he learns English, while Theo learns German.

“Hauptmann,” says the man, when Theo tells him his own name. Theo learns enough German to know that’s not a name, but whatever. He doesn’t care about this guy’s fancy titles. The real power is the ability to leave the labs, which only Theo has. 

The soldier calls him boy, but Theo doesn’t mind that either, after the way the Doctors only call him Theo Raeken, like he’s one of their Latin ingredients.

Once the man learns to speak English, he talks a lot.

It’s nice. He’s probably the safest things in the lab: always tied up, regularly monitored by the Doctors, and clearly aware of the fact that anything he wants has to come through Theo. He’s funny, sometimes. Sarcastic. He learns things quickly. He lets Theo teach him what the modern world is like. They watch cartoons together on Theo’s fancy new iPhone, Hauptmann eating Apple Jacks, Theo’s favorite cereal. Hauptmann says it’s disgusting but he always finishes his bowl. He laughs at the cartoons.

Hauptmann teaches Theo what he knows: mainly how to kill people, and also a little bit of 1940s physics.

He’s not a bad teacher. Theo tells him so.

“Before the war, I teached children,” says Hauptmann, the first thing he’s mentioned about his personal life.

"Taught,” Theo corrects, pleased with himself.

“Taught,” Hauptmann agrees.

Eventually, he confesses that his goal is still to run away. Theo scoffs. The Doctors can find anyone, anywhere. They don’t like loose ends and there’s no way to sense them coming. It’s no use. 

“You need more ambition,” Hauptmann chides. “There are forces in this world more powerful than them.”

“Like what?”

Hauptmann explains about the Wild Hunt. “It comes, it goes. There’s no stopping it. And I have a personal connection to the Ghost Riders.”

“What’s stopping you from calling them, then?”

“This place.” Hauptmann gestures to the labs. “It’s protected from electricity. The Doctors are afraid.”

Theo likes the sound of that. He’s never seen the Doctors afraid of anything. 

He does more research. The Ghost Riders can’t be controlled, he learns, but it’s possible to become one.

It’s not ideal. They look sort of gross, nothing like the perfect pack he was promised when he joined the Doctors. But it’s been years of nothing, with them. Theo can settle.

“I’ll help you get out of here,” he proposes warily, the next time the Doctors are gone, “and then you call the Wild Hunt.”

It’s risky, but Theo’s minimized the risk: all Hauptmann has to do is what he wants to do anyway, and Theo benefits. It’s a good plan. 

And him and Hauptmann are friends, sort of. Theo’s been nice to him. Apple Jacks and everything. That has to count for something.

Hauptmann agrees. 

Theo undoes his chains.

Hauptmann’s hands are instantly around his neck. Red eyes glare down at him viciously. Even a real beta probably couldn’t fight him off. Theo’s got no chance.

He’s going to die here.

Until suddenly, Hauptmann’s being hauled back by the Pathologist, while the Geneticist injects him with something. The Surgeon supervises as they drag him back to the vat.

Theo stands, coughing painfully, and watches Hauptmann kick and scream. Fuck him.

He turns more nervously to the Surgeon. The guy’s not gonna be happy about this. Things could get really bad.

But it’s useless to run.

Except, all that happens is that the Surgeon stares down at him with that clinical eye and rasps, “Failure is its own punishment.”

Then he turns away.

Theo is left with a slowly healing throat, a discomfiting gratitude for the Doctors, and a newfound commitment to getting the perfect pack--on his own, if the Doctors won’t help. Fuck settling.

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

write more aaron warner you're amazing 🫶

took me long enough but omgggg I got this req done!! thank you so much for you compliment and your request!! I hope you enjoy 🤍🤍 and in all seriousness i am really grateful for your patience with these requests, I realise that it’s taken me far too long to get around to doing them!!

title: you’re not him

pairing: aaron warner x reader

synopsis: something’s off with aaron but he won’t tell you what…

warnings:

a/n: thank you so much for reading 🤍🤍

taglist: @wish-i-were-heather @midiosaamor @fleuriosa @maybxlle @whatsamongus @elysianwayy77 @lovethornes @emelia07 @inmyheaddd @sweetreveriee @azysmate @anintellectualintellectual @off-to-the-r4ces @hermesenthusiast

By the time I’d gotten out of the shower, Aaron still wasn’t out of his office. He’d been there for hours, hunched over the same piece of paper. A little worried, I go to check on him, walking in to find him sitting there, so upright it look like a type of victorian punishment, pen down, staring out into the distance. My footsteps echo down the walkway but he doesn’t move an inch.

“Aaron, love,” I murmur gently, my voice a tender, steady hum over the soft silence.

He doesn’t respond and just stares forwards, lost in a hypnosis of his own thoughts. I’ve seen him like this before and I know it’s not a good thing.

“Aaron,” I say again, a little louder and slightly more urgent.

“Hmmm,” he hums in response not even meeting my eye.

The worry in the pit of my stomach only blossoms like a cherry tree in the springtime, with coiling, twisting branches of anxiety, flowering the most delicate petals of panic.

I chew the inside on my cheek, “what’s wrong?” I dare to ask.

“Nothing,” he replies, his voice distant like he wasn’t quite in the room with me.

“Aaron,” I whisper, sliding my hands up his back slowly with the gentlest fingers, only to stop at his shoulders to massage the tension knots out.

“Yes love,” he says to me, avoiding my gaze even though I know he can feel it burning a hole in the back of his skull.

“Talk to me,” I urge him in barely a whisper.

He shakes away my touch and my hands fall slack to my sides, weighted with rejection.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he sighs, standing up, his back to me.

I inhale deeply. I don’t want to get emotional because usually I’m not, but something about this cold, distant manor struck something in my chest.

“Aaron please,” I say, stepping in front of him, placing one hand on his chest. There’s a rawness to my voice that makes my throat ache, “you have to stop shutting me out, I thought we got past this.”

“You should go and rest,” he murmurs finally meeting my eyes, as he puts his hands on my rounded belly.

I understand now why he refused to look at me for so long. His eyes speak words he has no control over. Deep in the green lies all his pain. Whatever is going through his mind isn’t pleasant.

Still, my specification to address the matter is still being turned down. He’s completely avoiding the subject matter, as if the words never left my lips. He used to be like this all the time, closing me off, locking himself away, drowning in his own issues, refusing to even touch the lifeline bobbing on the surface for him to hold onto.

Aaron had always been stubborn, he didn’t want help. He’d rather stay silent and carry his own burden, rather torment himself into an unhealthy state than ask. Good damage, he used to call it. But once, it got too much and he finally let me in and he made a promise. He promised he wouldn’t go back to way he was. Not with me.

I fold my arms and pin my eyes to his, “I won’t rest until you tell me what’s wrong.”

An ultimatum. I need his attention.

“I promise, love, I’m perfectly happy,” he lies, with a forged smile, “I have you and our beautiful, beautiful child that you’re carrying, what more could I want?”

It’s not the lie that hurts, it’s not even how easily he managed it. It’s the fact he feels he has to lie to me, to hide from me.

“I can feel it when you’re not right you know,” I whisper, touching my heart, “in here.”

He looks at me, his emerald eyes burn. For a moment his expression softens, he breathes a little. He’s less chief commander and more the Aaron I know. The kind man, with soft eyes, gentle hands and sweet lips. The man who would burn the world for me or stand by my side as I burnt it. My Aaron. Then something shifts, a bitter frost comes in and sends an icy sheet all over.

“I need to shower,” he says quickly, “get some sleep, love, you look tired.”

I could’ve stayed there and argued. I wanted to, but he turned away too fast predicting my next move. I run my fingertips over my bump and sigh. He’s right, I am tired. I just hate it when he wasn’t okay, in fact I can’t bear it. It’s as if someone iswas torturing me, burning me alive, scraping my skin off a centimetre at a time, plucking my eyeballs out.

I walk to our bedroom slowly, pushing down my annoyance in the helplessness I feel. If he doesn’t talk, I can’t read his mind, I can’t know his problem, I can’t help. I get into bed, slipping under the covers but not laying down quite yet.

I listen for the shower running but don’t hear a sound, only the soft sloshing of bath water. Aaron bathes when he is stressed, so this only confirmed further that something was playing on his mind.

I try to wrack my fogged mind for what it could be. His work in rebuilding our government had been extensive and stressful but he had never caved under that sort of pressure before. He usually thrived under it. This was something else, I am almost sure of it. But what else? Is it something I’ve done? As far as couples go, I’d always thought we’d handled problems well but maybe he did have a problem with me, maybe I’d done something wrong…

I’m suddenly aware of the bathroom door opening, interrupting my train of thought, as its light shines into the bedroom. Aaron walks in and I can tell he’s caught off guard with the fact that I’m awake. Something between alarm and shock splashes through his eyes for a fraction of a second as he approaches. His eyebrows slowly draw inwards, pinching together in concern.

“You’re still awake, love?” he asks me.

I hum in reply.

“Why do you feel guilty?” Aaron says suddenly, going very still.

I sometimes forget he can feel what I feel, “have I done something?” I reply, “is that why you’re acting off?”

His face breaks into a sad sort of smile, “no, not you, never you.”

I rest my head back on the headboard, fighting with droopy eyelids to keep myself awake. I don’t push him any further, as long as it wasn’t my doing, I would wait for him to be ready to tell me.

He slips into the bed beside me and holds my cheek in one hand, his thumb gently brushing just under my eyes. I melt into his touch, the exhaustion getting stronger and stronger by the second.

“Oh love,” he murmurs, his voice so tender it makes my hearts ache.

I smile tiredly letting the weight of my head fall into his palm.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his eyes pinned to me roaming over my every feature as if it were the most mesmerising sight he’d ever seen, “so so beautiful.”

“Hold me,” I mumble into his warm skin, craving his touch, to be in his arms.

“Of course,” he says, enveloping his arms around me and tucking me into his chest, hiding me away from the rest of the world.

I breathe him in, the warmth of his skin on mine, our hearts thumping to the same beat. I nuzzle into the crook of his neck, my face buried in his skin. I feel myself grow heavier, less alert as I match my breathing to his.

“Do you want to lay down?” he whispers, probably noticing how my limbs growing heavy.

I hesitate for a moment.

“I won’t let go,” he says, reading my mind, “I promise, I only suggested it because it might make it easier for you to sleep that way.”

I don’t want to sleep, not really. There’s still a part of me that wants to know what’s wrong but my body can only fight the exhaustion for so long. Still, I am committed to stay awake just a little longer.

We lay down together, his arms still around me. I’m cocooned in his body. His hand meet at the bottom of my swollen belly, holding my bump with the utmost care, as if it were the most delicate thing on this universe. His chest is pressed firmly against my back, warm and protective as his legs intertwine themselves with mine. I can feel his slow and steady breathing on the back of my neck, tickling me slightly. The silence between us is heavy and makes my ears ache for sound but I couldn’t think of the right thing to say.

“I’m sorry,” he says, a little strained, in a low voice as if the noise was coming from the back of his throat.

Confusions washes a tidal wave over me, “what are you apologising for?”

I don’t get a response for a long while. I almost think he’s fallen asleep, after his breathing slows. His heart beat a little faster than usual against my back, my only indication that he’s working himself up to admit something. Something that makes him nervous to say out loud. I wait, giving him the time to form the words and the courage to say them.

“I find it hard to talk,” he begins slowly. I can hear each syllable is a struggle for him to say.

“I know,” I murmur, bringing his hands to my lips. I kiss them both gently to silently tell him that I am here to listen when he is ready. He doesn’t have to tell me tonight, or tomorrow night, or even the night after. However long he needed, I would wait for. He understands what I’m saying without me having to even say the words. And still he chooses to whisper seven words into my ear.

“I don’t want to let you down.”

It takes me by surprise. Aaron Warner is not a man to doubt himself, least of all doubt himself and blatantly admit it.

“Aaron what are you talking about?” I ask, rolling over so our noses touch, “you could never let me down.”

“No,” he murmurs shakily, something between pain and fear clouding over his emerald eyes, “listen love, I don’t want to mess things up.”

“Mess what up?” I say softly, my brows pinched with a gentle confusion, “tell me, explain to me.”

“I…” he falters, “…can’t.”

I take my palms to his face and hold him.

“I have seen every part of you,” I tell him, “your worst and your very best, I’m no stranger to the bad parts, so let me help you, let me in, please Aaron.”

Silence hangs in the empty space, never tiring of the wait, never growing impatient.

“I’m scared, love,” he responds finally, his voice so small I barely register it when he speaks, “I’m so so scared.”

“Scared?”

The question slips my lips before my brain has a chance to suppress it. I hadn’t meant to be so blunt. Aaron had never once, in our whole relationship, before and after marriage admitted that sentence aloud. Even when he’d looked the most petrified, physically shaking, a deathly pale, he didn’t say it.

So why now?

“I’m not going to do this right,” he continues, his words sharp and frantic, “I’m not going to be a good enough father, I’m going to ruin this child like my father ruined me, I wasn’t taught how to be a good father, I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m going to mess everything up.”

My heart shatters on the spot. It splits into a million tiny shards that hit the inner walls of my chest like shrapnel.

“Oh Aaron,” I melt, “you don’t need to be taught anything, you’re already the best man I’ve ever met, you’re not ruined at all. And you will be a good father no matter who your father was.”

“What if I become him?” he asks me, his eyes wild with panic, “worse than him?”

I wish in that moment that I’d been the one to kill his father. I would’ve made it the most excruciating experience on this planet. He would’ve been sorry before he went six feet under because no man deserves this torture, especially not Aaron. How dare the monster that called himself a father haunt his soul from the grave. It’s not right. It’s not fair.

“You won’t,” I tell him, “I know it.”

“You can’t be sure of something like that,” he replies, shaking his head, doubting all he is, all he’s accomplished, all his goodness.

I only wish he could see himself the way I see him. Maybe then he might understand.

“But I am,” I say, my voice more raw, more passionate. I know he can feel my emotions, I know he can feel the strong belief I have in him, the love that overpowers my senses. “Look at me Aaron, I know you and you are the furthest thing from the person that man was. You are going to be amazing at this and this baby is going to be so lucky and so so loved.”

He stares at me.

“I’ve never been more in love with you than I am right now,” he murmurs into my lips, kissing me slowly, passionately, longingly.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you than I am right now,” I reply as he draws soft circles with him thumb on my stomach.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “thank you. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t thank me for telling you the truth,” I reply, “and for the record you deserve every inch of me.”

“Sleep, love,” Aaron tells me gently, holding me tenderly in his arms, with a small smile on his lips, “and I’ll be here when you wake up, always.”

So I stop fighting my tired eyes and finally gave in, letting the night take me as her child, as I fall asleep in Aaron’s arms.

sorry for the lack of fics 😭😭 school has literally taken it out of me this week anywayysss thanks for reading!!

shatter me masterlist

[clangenrising]

Month 20 - Leaffall

Prev | First | Next

“I want to come,” Floodstrike said firmly, walking sharply in step with Goldenstar as she went about the final preparations for her meeting with the city cats. She stopped, gave a pained sigh, and looked her apprentice over. His jaw was tightly set, his forepaws sheathing and unsheathing their claws in the grass with excess energy. At least, she noticed, his eyes weren’t raw and red anymore. 

“Floodstrike,” she began carefully. 

“I know,” he interrupted, “this is important and you don’t want me to mess it up but, I promise, I won’t do anything stupid. I just want to be there in case things go wrong.” 

Goldenstar couldn’t help but let out a sympathetic breath through her nose. “I understand,” she said, “I really do, but this meeting took weeks to arrange. I’m only bringing warriors who I can trust to stay cool headed.” 

“You can trust me, Goldenstar,” he begged, leaning in. “Please. I need to be there.” 

Goldenstar took a slow, deep breath, closed her eyes, and then let it out with a huff. “Fine. I’m trusting you.” Opening her eyes, she searched his face for his reaction.

“Thank you!” he deflated slightly with relief. “I promise you won’t regret it.” 

“Go eat a meal and tell Oddstripe to make you a portion of traveling herbs,” she said with a twitch of her ear. Floodstrike nodded dutifully and bounded off towards the healer’s den. Goldenstar sighed again. 

After a beat to collect herself, Goldenstar resumed her preparations. She stopped Russetfrond and made sure that there wasn’t anything they hadn’t already discussed that needed her attention before she left. This time he didn’t seem resistant to staying home which was a relief. She honestly couldn’t blame him. If something happened to Bluekit and Yellowkit while he was away, she knew he would never forgive himself. 

Next, she went to check on Aldertail and found her with Oddstripe making the bundles of herbs for the journey. She went over the emergency protocol with Aldertail again, making sure that she knew exactly who to go to if another attack was launched while they were away. Aldertail nodded, seeming reassured by the repetition of the plan, which had been Goldenstar’s intention.

Before she left, Oddstripe asked, “Is it true you agreed to let Floodstrike go along?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded, belly clenching nervously. 

“Okay,” Oddstripe nodded and looked down. “Just make sure he comes home safe, alright?” 

“Of course,” said Goldenstar with genuine fervor. “I won’t take a single risk I don’t have to.” 

“Oh, thank you,” the healer sniffled and smiled up at her and she felt her chest tighten. She hoped she would be able to keep her promise. 

When she stepped outside, Scorchplume fell into step beside her and said, “SkyClan is here. Orangestar should be waiting for us at the thunderpath.” 

“Good,” she nodded. “Let's get everyone together and get ready to go.”

“Alright,” Scorch said without looking at her, the picture of a regal advisor. “I’ll fetch Songdust. Why don’t you grab Coyotechaser?” 

“And Floodstrike,” Goldenstar said, bracing herself. 

“What?” Scorch’s regality dissipated like someone smacking a dandelion puff. Keeping her voice low but her tone sharp, she whispered, “No. No way! Goldenstar, we talked about this, we can’t afford any rash behavior!”

“I know, I know, but he swore he would be on his best behavior,” tried Goldenstar.

“So did Fogpaw,” huffed Scorch, “that doesn’t mean she gets to tag along!” 

“We could use the extra muscle,” she argued. 

“At what cost?” Scorchplume lashed her tail, took a deep breath and said, “Look. I love you, Goldie,” (and Goldenstar puffed up with affection, much to Scorch’s annoyance) “but your judgment is impaired here! You’re too soft on him. It isn’t fun but he’s just going to have to suck it up and stay home and you’re going to have to suck it up and tell him so.” It took a good deal of effort for Goldenstar not to squirm under Scorch’s piercing scowl.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” she said firmly, “but the choice has already been made. It’s gonna look bad if I undo my decision because you told me to.” Scorchplume looked askance, ears swiveling backward. Quickly, Goldenstar added, “Besides, I’m trusting Floodstrike and I’m asking you to trust me. I don’t want to make you feel like I cornered you into going along with this or anything.” She gently laid her tail over Scorch’s, hoping that she hadn’t just accidentally threatened her kind-of-sort-of-partner.

Scorch was still for a moment, likely processing something behind her mask. Then she said, “It’s fine, you couldn’t corner me if you tried.” Goldenstar chuckled a little and wrapped her tail more tightly around Scorch’s. 

“That’s good. I promise that if he does anything out of line I’ll send him home.”

“You’d better,” Scorch said, looking up at her. “We probably won’t get a second chance at this.” 

“I know,” Goldenstar said with the appropriate solemnity. “I won’t let this opportunity slip through our claws.” 

Scorch sighed, nodded, and bumped her head against Goldenstar’s forehead. “Alright.” 

“Goldenstar!” Coyotechaser called over from where she was standing with Greyvoice and Couragecry who were scheduled to join a border patrol. “Are we ready to go?” 

“Just about!” she called back, “We’ll grab our traveling herbs and head out.” 

~~~

After meeting up with Orangestar, the group - Goldenstar, Scorchplume, Songdust, Floodstrike, and Coyotechaser - crossed the thunderpath and headed for the city. The afternoon stretched into evening and as they approached, Goldenstar watched in wonder as the city lights came to life one by one. 

“Remember,” Scorchplume told them as they walked, “When we get to the meeting, I’ll do the speaking for all of us. If you have something you want said, let me know and I’ll phrase it in a way that the city cats will respond favorably to.” 

“Right,” Coyotechaser said cautiously. 

“Also,” Goldenstar said, “As far as the city cats know, I’m the leader of all the Clans. At this point, we think it's best to leave it that way. The less they actually know about us, the better. While we’re in the city, you and Orangestar are my advisors, just like Scorchplume.” 

“I can see the reason in that,” admitted the SkyClan deputy. 

“In that case,” said Orangestar, “it might be good to avoid calling me Orangestar, just in case.” 

“That’s smart,” said Goldenstar, smiling fondly at her friend. “Guess you’ll be Orangeleaf again for a while.”

“Guess so,” laughed Orangestar bashfully. 

They padded along for a while longer before they reached the large gravel path that led into the city. Goldenstar led them along the edge of it, trying to steady her nerves. This was where things got dangerous. The plan relied on them drawing as little attention to themselves as possible and the closer they got, the more likely it was that they would be seen and possibly attacked. 

Her fears were realized when they spotted a small cluster of cats loitering across the gravel from them, just little ginger and white and grey smudges in the fading light. Coyotechaser growled a low warning to the others, tail bristling, and Goldenstar held her tail out behind her to try and settle the group.

“Easy,” she said. 

The group of cat shapes up ahead stood and started loping back to the city and Floodstrike lunged after them before Goldenstar had a chance to say anything. Quickly, Songdust hooked a paw out in front of him, tumbling him forward. He caught himself before hitting the gravel and turned back to glare at her. 

“Floodstrike!” Goldenstar hissed so that the city cats wouldn’t be able to hear. “What are you doing?” 

“They’re going to get reinforcements!” he cried indignantly. 

“Or,” Scorchplume cut in sharply, “they’re with Rudy and attacking them would have ruined the entire meeting!” Orangestar glanced from Scorch to Goldenstar with worry and Coyotechaser squinted inscrutably at Floodstrike. Songdust just looked pitying. Under all these gazes, Floodstrike’s big ears wilted behind him and he pressed his mouth into a thin line. 

“I’m sorry, Goldenstar,” he said, “I- I thought I was helping.” 

“I know,” she sighed, avoiding the pointed look that Scorch was giving her. “Let’s keep going. We don’t have time to waste out in the open.” She ducked her head and started going, knowing that a number of unpleasant conversations were going to be had eventually.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to Luna’s garden. The little lilac kittypet was waiting for them on top of the fence and smiled in greeting, ushering them over the fence with her tail. 

“Welcome! Welcome!” she purred, blushing when she made eye contact with Floodstrike. “Schmidt should be here soon, you can wait under the bench by the hydrangeas.” 

“Thank you,” Goldenstar thanked her and hopped the fence with a quick bound. 

When her paws hit the ground, Scorchplume was right behind her, saying softly, “I told you not to bring him.” 

“I know,” Goldenstar whispered back. “I’ll handle it.” 

“Good,” huffed Scorch. She led the way to the bench, which was good since Goldenstar had no idea what a bench was in the first place, and the other cats followed, clustering underneath the odd wooden structure with their backs against the wilting hydrangea blossoms. 

“You trust this Schmidt cat?” Coyotechaser asked.

“I do,” Goldenstar nodded. 

“He kept me safe while I was in the city,” said Songdust. “He’s a good cat, if a bit idealistic.” 

“That’s good,” mewed Orangestar. 

Goldenstar glanced past her to where Floodstrike was sitting, tail curled around his paws and she swallowed in shame when he met her gaze a second later. He could tell he was in trouble and they were both miserable about it. She quickly averted her gaze and tried to go over the meeting points in her mind. 

A short time later, two cats crested the fence and followed Luna over to the bench. The first cat was Schmidt, a kind smile on his face as he approached, and the second was a cat who looked exactly like him but with a slightly brighter tint to his ginger fur, much like Orangestar. The second cat followed closely behind Schmidt. His eyes wandered the yard for any sign of danger but his face bore a politely empty expression rather than a threatening or anxious one. Goldenstar stepped out from under the bench to meet them and the others followed suit.

“Evenin’, Goldenstar,” said Schimdt with a well mannered dip of the head. “This is my brother, Westen. He insisted on comin’ to watch my back.” At his introduction, Westen dipped his head in kind and briefly flashed a smile. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Westen,” Goldenstar said.

“Please, ma’am, call me Wes,” said Wes with a twang and a humble smile. Goldenstar couldn’t help but smile herself. 

“Of course,” she said. Then, back to Schimdt, “Is everything ready for the meeting?” 

“As ready as it’ll ever be,” Schimdt said with a nervous huff. “We’ll be meetin’ on a friend’s balcony at sundown. We prolly ought to head over there now though. Don’t wanna get caught like a squirrel in a bottle.” Goldenstar nodded instead of asking what a bottle or a balcony was. 

“Right, let’s get going then,” she said. 

Scorchplume cleared her throat, looking strained. 

Goldenstar frowned. “Right. Floodstrike, I’m going to need you to stay here.” 

“Goldenstar, please!” Floodstrike protested. “It was one mistake, I promise it won’t happen again.”

“You already promised me and you broke your promise,” Goldenstar said. “I’m sorry. Stay here with Luna. If something goes wrong we’ll have someone send you for help.” 

Floodstrike opened his mouth to protest then closed it with a soft clack. Looking down, he sighed, “Alright.” Goldenstar smiled, bittersweet. She was proud, at least, that he hadn’t tried to keep arguing.

“Alright, let’s go,” she said, and Schmidt nodded and turned to lead the way. 

On the edge of her hearing, Goldenstar caught Wes whispering to Luna, “Miss Luna, will you be alright on your own with this fella?” 

“Oh, don’t worry, Wes,” Luna purred, “We get on peachy.” Then she laughed like she’d told a joke. 

This seemed enough to put Wes at ease and he said simply, “Alright then. Don’t forget to fetch your Folk if you need anythin',” before slinking back into place behind Schmidt’s right shoulder. Goldenstar chuckled a bit and hung back to speak with Floodstrike. 

“Hey,” she said softly and he looked up with big, guilty eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up so bad you forget to enjoy yourself, ‘kay?” 

“W-” Floodstrike frowned then glanced past her to Luna before blushing with understanding. “Oh. That’s- I’m not-”

“It’s alright,” Goldenstar laughed a little. “Whatever happens, it’ll be alright as long as you feel comfortable. Don’t forget to stand up for yourself.” 

“Alright,” he swallowed dryly. 

With that, Goldenstar bounded to catch up before anyone could call for her and the group hopped the fence and darted across the thunderpath towards the meeting place.

[justkitkatthings]

This but reader had been put on a different team…https://www.tumblr.com/justkitkatthings/768357089618903040/i-know-this-isnt-possible-but-just-hear-me-out-a

have a great day or night! 💋

I have several thoughts…

Thank you for being my first anon and ilysm

You’re a genius

I’m so so so so very sorry I took so long to answer this! I really wanted to get this done sooner but I’ve had serious writers block (or laziness idk) and just a bunch of personal shit going on, so getting this done is like a belated Christmas/new year’s/birthday present to myself

I can’t promise this’ll be as good as this was, I feel like I used all my good writing abilities up on that haha

Have a great day or night to you too 🩷

———

After losing your leg, you never thought you’d work for anything military affiliated again. Okay, well, maybe as a civilian admin person, but never in the field. But, with a LOT of physical therapy… and mental therapy… and retail therapy… it was like you were as good as new!

So, when Laswell called, you answered. There was an opening in a new Task Force, and they wanted you. You haven’t felt this way since… well, since John, Kyle, and Johnny. But now, they dint have to consume your every living thought. You can begin again.

It wasn’t long before you were on a new base, in a new country, with a new team.

They were all extremely welcoming, albeit different. You had to get used to the change in personalities and strategies, but it was refreshing to get new perspectives on things.

Months of training and bonding with your new team go by, and less contact with the 141. You’ve by no means forgot about them, but you don’t think about them as much anymore. You’re happy, and they need to respect that.

But when have those boys ever been good at leaving you alone? Never. Which is how you end up here, staring them down as your new Captain greets John, the Captain of the team you’ll be working alongside for the next however long.

You can’t stand this. Why couldn’t they just let you have one thing for yourself for ONCE?

The best way to handle this, you decided, was to not. Avoiding them was simple and easy, so you did it.

On the occasions you couldn’t avoid them, like missions, all your interactions were short and professional. There was no hint of the connection you had all shared.

The lieutenant who replaced you was big and stoic, but his was also a dumbass. Sure, it was an improvement in physical strength (which you were definitely NOT jealous of), but it was a loss in stealth and just common fucking sense.

Like, how can this man look you in the eyes and not realize you were his predecessor that the team still talked about? You hate him and his big muscles. Those very same muscles that eventually saved you from losing your other leg.

At first, you were pissed when he pinned you. But then the explosion happened.

There was a loud, obnoxious ringing in your ears, but at least you weren’t passed out, unlike the big oaf on top of you.

John helped pull him off of you and waited with you both until medevac came. Every protest from you was countered by your old Captain. He just wants you to be alright, luvie, relax.

Reluctantly, you did, enough to fall asleep. The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was the blinding white lights of the hospital. When that faded, you saw John and your new Captain whispering to each other in the corner of the room, sending worried glances… past you? You weakly turned your head to look, and it was Simon, covered in bandages.

[pandajaye]

🧸 Changbin as a Father 🧸

✨ Headcanons ✨ (Part 1)

A/N: I'm writing this bcs I was getting baby fever and then I got cuteness aggression from thinking about Changbin as a father sooo here we are now hehe yippee I hope you like it pls enjoy :)

🩷 Reacting to the news 🩷

- Eyes wide and blinking excessively in disbelief with a weak “What?”

- You confirm the news and a smile is creeping up so he does his upside down smile trying to control it

- “I’m gonna be a… I’M GONNA BE A DAD?! FOR REAL?! ME?! HAHAHA!” he’s SO excited 😭

- He was sitting on the bed with you but he gets up and does a little happy dance because he’s ecstatic, but then he sits back down and gives you a hug

- “Thank you so much. I love you so much. This is so important to me.” he just wants to hold you and love on you, he didn’t know when he’d become a dad or even if he’d become one but he was always interested in the concept

- He pulls back away from you and looks at your stomach that is only soft from the satisfying brunch date from earlier in the day

- “I promise to stick to my principles and be genuine to you. I will love you and teach you how to be a good person. Because you are our baby.” he gets quiet… saying ‘our baby’ got to him, his eyes start to fill with tears

- You give him a hug and let him know that everything is going to be okay and that you’ll get through this together, he hugs you again and says “Yes. We will. I promise.”

- He kisses your cheek and side hugs you while holding a hand against your lower belly, he’ll start to call those ‘family hugs’

⭐️ 5 weeks ⭐️

- You’ve already started going to doctor appointments, coming home to flowers and your favorite snacks that he prepared beforehand, turning on your favorite television show to help you relax and ease your mind

- You held his hand as you two spoke to the managers and leaders at JYPE about what’s going to happen in the near future, things regarding his schedules and contracts and discretion

- The members were so excited to find out and were immediately supportive, calling you two after the meeting to see how things went

- “Everything will work out, you two. Don’t worry about anything.” says Skz's amazing leader Bang Chan, and it does make the two of you, especially Changbin, feel better, he tells his hyung thank you for the comforting words

🐽 8 weeks 🐽

- The past three weeks have been a little… textured, you’re starting to feel the emotions everyone warns about with pregnancy which aren’t terrible but you are a more emotional person, Changbin understands this and makes an effort to sit and listen to you as much as he can

- He tells you to text him while he’s at the studio or dance practice and he’ll call you when he has a long enough break to speak with you

- Physically, there’s a small difference in your body that he notices easily since you’ve been together for some years now

- He gives you lots of body massages when you’re tired and researches healthy recipes that you’ll need to start eating, most of the time he just calls his mother and asks her what you may need which leads to her coming over to bring you some lunch or bring you back to her house (if he's working), you’ve been close with his family forever and marriage only made that bond stronger, their house is basically like a second home already

- Both of you had a wonderful time at your ultrasound appointment, he quickly went from chatting it up with you to quietly staring at the screen where the doctor pointed to your baby, he couldn’t believe it despite staring right at the images, that’s your guys' baby!

- This pregnancy was really sinking in for him, well, every day, but it was especially sinking in at this very moment, when the doctor left the room to let you get ready to go home, Changbin gave you a passionate kiss and restated his promise to you that you two would get through this together

- Together you showed the printed copies of the ultrasound images to his family and yours, when you showed the members they were excited and almost couldn’t look away, it was definitely setting in for them as well

🐰 12 weeks 🐰

- Pregnancy is hitting you like a truck, sure life is beautiful or whatever but you're really only good at making things look good when you're in front of others

- Changbin's mom noticed you were trying to hold back how you were really feeling and she tells you to be honest and let it out, you both end up crying, just a little emotional, but she tells you that everything is okay, that you're okay, that they love you, and that Bin loves you, too

- She tells you to take a nap while she makes some lunch that will be healthy but also serve as some nice comfort food to help you feel better

- When you wake up, you can indulge not only in how the smell of the food isn't nauseating, Changbin's there, he was able to leave the studio early and wanted to come see his special lady and his special baby (and his mom of course)

- Unfortunately, you sometimes get sick at home when he's wearing too much of his colognes, you tell him you'll power through it but he insists that he'll either spray them outside of the entire apartment or he'll hold off on wearing them for a while, you're appreciative but it makes you feel a little bit like a bully, you're grateful for him being so understanding

- When the two of you go shopping, he just HAS to go to the baby section and look at all the tiny clothes, did he almost lose his mind when he saw a pink hoodie onesie with a bunny on the front? yes, yes he did, he's trying to be patient but it's hard, you're practically forced to drag him out of the store and rub his back to comfort him, you want to enjoy these next few months while you're still a just duo

🌸🌸🌸 ~ End of Part 1 ~ 🌸🌸🌸

A/N: Was this good? I went by a whole week by week guide from the national health organization to give me some idea of what I was writing here, I hope this seems accurate and is somewhat if not definitely enjoyable bcs I definitely enjoyed writing! part 2 will come out.. at some point, hopefully not too long from now, especiall if this does well! anyways thanks for reading, have a great day!!

Edit: If you’d like to be tagged in the next part, drop your @ in the comments and I’ll start a taglist!!!!

[gerec]

Hello! Your fic recs have brought me so much joy and they were one of the things that made me really into cherik! Like I'm crazy about them now.

And I don't know if you're accepting request if not I'm sorry for disturbing please disregard this part of the message or this entire ask

But I wanted to ask what fics do you read whenever you need a pick-me-up or when you need a laugh.

Because I just watched this YouTube video about this horror novel penpal by dathan auerbach and it was really sad and disturbing but mostly tragically sad and I really wanted to read something sweet or funny as a pick-me-up.

Sorry for the long ask (I can't help but yap) and if its incoherent (English isn't my first language 😅). And thank you so much for your contribution to the x-men Fandom. Both your fic recs and fics brought me so much joy and made it really exciting for me when I was just starting to get into x-men and cherik ❤️💖

Hi Anon,

I'm sorry for the wait, but here's a (very long!) list of fics I go back to over and over whenever I need a laugh or I want to feel the warm fuzzies :D I hope this serves you as well it has served me all these years!!!

Protect, Serve, Troll by keire_ke

Erik’s fire department has a special relationship with the local university. They visit often. Sometimes, there even is a fire.

Erik Lehnsherr’s Guide to Parenting by keire_ke (series)

Alex disapproves of school car washes, despite the abundance of wet bikinis on pretty girls. Erik doesn’t approve of his son shirking money-making duties.

Humane Society by smilebackwards

Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he’s Charles’ cat and not his boyfriend.

Other Life Challenges by professor (series)

“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Wednesday by Red

Getting confined to a nursing facility for a six-week course of iv antibiotics would have been dreadfully dull, had Charles not found a way to “occupy his time.”

In which Erik Lehnsherr, retired nazi hunter, becomes the latest victim of Charles Xavier’s charms.

drastic measures by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

Erik glowers.

“I can’t believe we’re back to this,” Charles says, like he wants to throw his hands in the air. He’s pouting a little bit. “Years of progress, and we’ve returned to you brooding. Don’t tell me I have to break out the terrible flirting again.”

Erik glowers a little less. “Flirting,” he repeats, bland but also maybe just very, very, very slightly, faintly, vaguely hopeful.

“Oh, yes,” Charles says absently, until something seems to strike him. “Don’t tell me you don’t…” He raises his left hand and brandishes the ring. “We promised ourselves to each other last week.”

–

Alternatively: Erik’s memory is swiped clean of his and Charles’s relationship.

One Hundred One Night Stands. by Sophia_Bee

Charles has a rule. Never fuck the same guy twice. When he refuses to see Erik again after a one night stand, Erik goes about trying to get Charles to violate that rule using accents and disguises.

Suddenly There’ll Be a Blizzard (Let It Snow Remix) by kianspo

Charles was never at his best while jetlagged, but locking himself out in a snowstorm while barely dressed might be a new low. The last thing he expected was to be rescued by his high school nemesis, the man he hadn’t seen in over ten years, who might have broken his heart for good once upon a time.

All We Are We Are by kianspo 

Charles’s boyfriend breaks up with him days before the holidays. Not willing to ruin anyone else’s festive mood, Charles hides this fact from his sister and his friends, and retreats into the family mansion, letting the world move on without him. He’s flirting with depression when a one-time ex and a long-term friend surprises him. Long-kept secrets are revealed, and it turns out, Charles hasn’t been paying attention to the right things.

Your Heart Just Couldn't Wait by Pookaseraph

Charles and his BFF Tony Stark have the life - they're co-valedictorians at the most prestigious high school in the city, they have their own condo in Manhattan, and they get to go to all the awesome parties. Charles just wished he understood relationships and sex as well as Tony does. His theoretical bisexuality starts to feel a lot less theoretical when he and Tony end up in Professor Lehnsherr's Physics III course at Columbia University, but Charles' decision to take their relationship further leaves both student and professor with more than they bargained for.

this is only now (where do we go from here) by thebodyeclectic From this prompt on the 1stclass_kink meme: Modern AU, where an older Alex (in his mid twenties?) somehow figures out/recieves the news that, no, his younger brother didn't die in the crash like he'd been told, and then sets out to find him. The catch is, Scott's been adopted and adores his 'dad', who is incidentally the adorkable Hank McCoy.

Not So Much the Teacup by thehoyden

“Charles is basically the bride whisperer. It’s like he can read their minds.” (wedding planner AU)

Math Reasons by pearl_o, pocky_slash (series)

"Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

On a Beach, With You (The Tel Aviv Remix) by niniblack

Charles Xavier meets Erik Lehnsherr on a beach in Israel.

Growing Up Lehnsherr by DeerstalkerDeathFrisbee (series)

For someone who hates feelings, Erik gets dragged into an alarming number of conversations about them. In which there are confessions, declarations, awkward first meetings, accidents, explanations, endings and beginnings.

Otherwise know as Five Conversations Erik Didn't Want to Have and One That He Did.

Got You Locked Down Like Police by brawlingdiscontent

Mob AU. Logan’s straightforward ‘retrieval’ job gets complicated. 

One big family by ximeria

There is a house in New York (no, only Charles calls it a house, and his perception of such is a little warped, so let's try that again)...

... There's a building in New York, owned by XavierMedCorp that caters to mutant tenants, their families and a handful of humans. You need to know someone who knows someone who knows someone to get an apartment there. Or maybe just be very lucky. Or have a mutant son who has the tenacity of a pit bull. Anyway, Edie Lehnsherr has moved in and she is slowly getting to know the other tenants, the superintendent and the owner.

Making perfect by aesc

As is the case with most trials in Erik's life, this one starts with Charles gazing beseechingly at him and asking him for a favor. Not that their going-on-three years relationship is a trial, even though it started with Charles giving Erik the full benefit of sad blue eyes and asking him if he wouldn't mind opening his car door since he'd locked his keys inside, but still.

love like toy trucks crashing by midrashic

Charles Xavier may be young, but he knows what it means to love.

Love Runs Out by ikeracity

Hammer Bay, one of the most mutant-friendly apartment buildings in all of Manhattan and affectionately nicknamed the Hub by its residents, is home to an eclectic mix of families, broke college students, scientists, artists, and high school dropouts. Charles Xavier, new arrival to apartment 3K, catches the attention of everyone on the third floor but he only has eyes for one: cranky author Erik Lehnsherr who lives directly across the hall in 3B.

A Nice Boy (The Family Matters Edition) by pocky_slash

Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

soul of my soul by ikeracity 

You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland by TurtleTotem 

Charles hasn't seen Erik since their devastating breakup ten years ago. He's certainly the last person he expects to run into at a Christmas lights display.

[kittenfangirl20]

Sera: You are doing wonderfully, soon you will be able to walk on your own.

Adam: Thank you for helping me.

Sera: I always felt it was wrong to make you fall along with Lucifer, this is my way to make it up to you. I wish I could have gone to Heaven.

Adam: Thank you, but I am happy with Luci. I love him and our children so much.

Sera: I understand, there is something else we want to try. It is to give you a blood transfusion of angel blood, it should make you stronger.

Adam: Really?

Sera: We think this came about because you don’t have angel blood or sweet unable to become a Sinner. But this will have to be done after you give birth.

Adam: You will make sure that Luci is here when the babies are born.

Sera: Of course, I promised that he would be here for the birth if the you had to be here to give birth.

Adam: Thank you.

In Hell Charlie went to see Vaggie.

Charlie: Vaggie, I know that you are looking for a way to find something to get rid of the hotel, but I hope that you can see that the hotel is a good thing.

Vaggie: I agree, but there is another reason why I don’t want to no longer work for Lilith.

Charlie: What reason is that.

Vaggie then kissed Charlie.

Vaggie: It is because I have fallen in love with you.

Charlie: I love you too.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

The Fall Au

The earth shook with the sheer impact of the fall that it created a massive crater. Lucifer groaned as he held his love tight to him, he didn't want Adam getting hurt and it was very painful.

Lucifer: Dove? Adam?

Adam looked up at him and coughed, dust coming out of his lungs. He felt so weak and dizzy.

Adam: Luci?

Lucifer: Addie, are you okay?

Adam teared up: I-I-I don't feel good.

He started coughing and shaking, he was freezing. Adam screamed as he felt pain in his head.

Lucifer ripped off the lower half of his robe and wrapped it around Adams along with his wings.

This isn't good.

Adam: It hurts so much.

Lucifer: Don’t worry, I will help you, we just need shelter.

Adam cried as Lucifer used his magic to create a palace. It was a gothic style version of the palace in Heaven. Lucifer carried Adam into the palace holding him close to him.

Lucifer: I have you my dove.

Adam: I trust you Luci.

Once in the room Adam was placed in the bed as Lucifer held him. Adam screamed as he felt his body change. It was trying to make it so his body was suited to the atmosphere of Hell. But since he didn’t die, his body could only do so much. Adam cried more as Lucifer held him close.

Lucifer: I’m not leaving you my love. We will be together forever.

Adam gave a sad smile, his beautiful teeth had become shark like fangs.

Adam: I love you and I am so sorry, but I didn’t want to leave you.

Lucifer: You don’t need to apologize. I love you too and I don’t want to leave you.

Adam fell asleep and Lucifer looked over the changes Adam went through.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[lacydollette]

SUNRISE .ᐟ sam winchester

warnings sam winchester x fem!reader, fallen angel!reader, established relationship, this shit is just fluffy asf, and ik that angels don’t need to sleep in spn but just pretend okay?!

“What are you planning, Samuel?” You teased softly, though your voice full of warmth while you were all cuddled up into one of Sam’s oversized flannels. “You’ll see,” he repeated with a sly grin, glancing at you briefly before turning back to the road, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

The morning had started with Sam gently shaking you awake, his voice low and soft as he told you to get dressed cause he had a surprise for you. You had groaned, burying your face deeper into the pillow. You really weren’t an early bird, but once you saw the spark in his eyes and the boyish grin on his face, you were convinced.

Now, as you sat beside him, your curiosity growing with every passing mile, you couldn't help but feel grateful for whatever it was he'd planned. Sam had a way of making you feel grounded, even when everything else seemed overwhelming, making your first time on earth more memorable than you had ever expected.

You didn’t get much peace these days—adjusting to earth was overwhelming for you sometimes—but you were handling it better than anyone Sam had ever met before.

You weren’t just anyone; you were a fallen angel, still learning your way around the human world. You approached everything with childlike innocence—your excitement over simple things like the hum of a washing machine or the sweet taste of maple syrup often left Sam grinning from ear to ear. But one thing you haven’t experienced yet was a sunrise over the ocean. When you first told him that, Sam had promised himself to make it happen. And now was the time.

When he pulled up to the beach, your breath got caught in your throat. The ocean stretched endlessly before you, the horizon glowing in the light of dawn. You stepped out of the car, the cool breeze brushing against your skin, and just stood there for a moment, staring.

“Sam,” you whispered, not really registering the sight infront of you. Sam came around to your side, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together. “I remembered you said you’d never seen a sunrise at the beach. Thought we should change that.”

Your chest ached, but in the best way. You looked at him, eyes glassy. How could someone be so thoughtful, so good? You didn’t deserve him—at least, that’s what you often thought—but he made you feel like you did. “Thank you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

He led you down to the sand, where he spread out a blanket for the both of you. You quickly kicked off your shoes, laughing softly as your toes sank into the cool sand. Sam just watched you, his heart doing that annoying little flip it always did when you smiled like that.

As you settled in, the first rays of sunlight broke over the water, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. Your eyes were wide, full with wonder as you watched. You had never seen something this magical.

“It’s more beautiful than I ever imagined,” you said, voice trembling with awe. Sam leaned closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Not as beautiful as you.” You laughed, a quiet, disbelieving sound, but you didn’t argue. Instead, you turned to face him, pressing your forehead against his. “You do too much for me,” you mumbled softly. “Not even close,” he replied.

The sunrise wasn’t the only thing you experienced for the first time this morning. Sam brought out a side of you that you didn’t know even existed—the carefree, playful side. When the sun was fully up, you both ran along the shore like little kids, laughing as you splashed in the waves.

“Catch me if you can!” You called, your laughter echoing as you darted away from him. “Alright, im coming for you!” Sam shouted back, sprinting after you. You felt so free running around the sand, the slight ocean breeze hugging your body.

When he finally caught you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around, both of you laughing so hard you could barely breathe. You clung to him, your cheeks flushed, heart so full that it could burst.

Being with Sam felt like home.

tags @beausling @sammyluvr @nuemanfilms @rubyvhs @chevroletdean @figthoughts @gibson-g1rl @mxltifxnd0m @angelicjackles @deansbeer

[deus-ex-mona]

my five surviving braincells when something remotely good happens: